shoving the poor into the ghettos of our contrition
might trigger a long lost compassion, warming the breast
like a bright orange ball, full of sun
shivering in the coolness of our embrace

is this the peace we're aching for
savoring the crumbs, the poor of the world?



awaiting liberation

who'd say it
who'd spit that word "liar" out
clenched behind false teeth

biting themselves to avoid release

for it is a lie
spoken with such grace and deliberation
that the detractors fool by the trembling in their throats

what assurance!

i am betrayed
and sulk like soaked peas waiting to the thrown into the pot
a pris'ner of incompetent words and thoughts

a diagram of dismembered smarts

words were said
their stiletto-style stuck to subjects without verbs
incomparable sounds against truth

but it's truth i desire

that longs for freedom now
bound in the  throats of liars
diverting it to the killing fields

where the lovers of death yet dwell

zombies fixed on harm and  shame
and the burden of gross falsification
while here i lay

a bound body

sweating beneath the heat of breath
filled with untruths that slay with skill
awaiting the liberation that truth would bring

even though in prison i die