1963…+53

1963…+53
MEANWHILE
The sure fingered rods that never miss
this long and shining flank of metal is,
Ricochet….. Gentle hiss
But they still pray” forgive us our sins”
Beggars and pedestrians clear throats and spit….chocked… Fumes..
Can’t tell the genuine from the humbugs,
There’s hell in the villages and our good old cities,
” shoot off their legs” command is given,
Peace!?
Would there be peace for us anymore,
Terrorists burn, rape and cut off people’s head ,
Norm!
You sleep in fear and dread of what might creep out of the night, those machines in their hands spurting flame, leaping and roaring…

Patience and calm define borders and boundaries, attention, they stand up straight… Button their collar,
Men in blue !!
We living in history ,in black and white,
The hot night stinks of scorching flesh,
It’s 53 years ago,the people say, and the dead to the desert we give and the glory to God in our song,
To the vile dust,from whence the sprung, unwept ,unhonoured and unsung,
Innocent citizens…!

You,yes you in power..
For you the flag is flung,for you bouquets and ribboned wreaths.. Crowding shores..
We are now turned into an object ..an antagonism, a specific antagonism through chilly space..
Ring out the grief that saps the mind…
Ring in redress to all MANKIND!!

Naakia!

TRIGGER

She wants things to slow down now,
All because of the situation she is caught up in now,
They call  it getting stuck between a rock and a hard place,
How things went from sweet to bitter real quick she cant contemplate,
All she knows is he changed..but she doesn’t know how.

She was promised the galaxy,
But he just gave her the hour glass..haha
She slips gasps of regret laughter in between her sobs,
The pangs of pain she feels in her heart,
Greater than the great contractions her kind go through in labour.

Now she is on her knees begging for her life,
Praying for her soul
Her course…lost
The cause..her better half-her hearts’ host,
Its hard to believe how the people who the people who you could take a bullet for,
Are the ones behind the trigger-load ,cock,LETS GO

Click! came the sound in the chambers
Spiraling over and over like the empty echoes in her heart,
He’d promised her forever,
maybe this where forever starts and the end begins,

Maybe this is where the love ends and realisation hits,
Realisation that the host of her heart,
is the man behind the trigger,
The man behind the echoes in her ear,
The pain in her heart,
The regret in her thoughts,
The…the reality that he was not her knight.

Now,he smelled of sin and tasted like melancholy, hatred is the dress she wears,
He moaned her poems,beautiful imagery,
His touches and whispers,he never deserved her divinity      Did he even know the places he took her?
The moonlight was a witness to the sweet glorious magic of them,

He aimed for the heart with words as his gun ,
He was the Bliss she wanted to get lost in…haha or so she did.       How does she stop the crippling pain in her soul ,
All she wants for Christmas is an ambulance and a mental hospital,

Crawling into the prison of her mind ,in time she desired to end the eternal nothingness in her ,
This theatre of pain leaves her speechless,nothing is truly “deep”…or so she thought,
Sometimes infinity is never enough,
Said she liked it rough …but not her heart,
Busy planning her next reincarnation but poison is her salvation ,
The piercing screams of her silent mouth,
Unconscious makes her conscious because nothing else washes away hurt like NEW PAIN……

BY BROOKS,NAAKIA&SIMBA

.©JOBRANA