Madam Zingara

Madam Gypsy knows

How it be,

To be fabled of human:

Abominable

Wild

Dunce

Madam Gypsy sings

Maybe weeps about it

Then gets back

On her rocky way.

Today, like ever before

Nothing like
The token of pale,
The badge of right,

The colour of white.

The curse

Lining the pavement
Like the unfertilized eggs
Of a menstrual bleed
The black man
Seeks work
With the same routine
That opportunity
Denies him

Month after month
New hope but no ticket
With every new batch
That gradually accumulates
Out comes another, expired
Like the densest and darkest
dregs of the cycle.

Man...

Live free of vengeance
Live free of vice

And if you must act on them
Think hard and think twice.

savoury dreams

A lack of toil

Stubborns the soil,

Fills the gut with air

Sates you with
Lethargy

while making 

the mealtimes rare

A moment of modesty

Time, by man

Is squandered.

Enjoyed.

Taken for granted.

Cherished,

Then ultimately rendered void:

a positively passive process.

Maybe because 

Time,
by man

is not owned.

tickle

everyday i wonder what will become of me
while daily I become it

even after twenty thousand days
I will not have caught up

it has occured to me
(for now)
that destiny and choice
are only pitstops
in a loop
called life.

Autonomy

Right now I am

Independent of 

Your influence

Which I never resent

Though one must once

Or twice or more

Go off unaided

Unaccompanied

Unwatched

And shake some life

Into limbs that are dead

From the consistence

Of habit

Of comfort 

Of love.

zeitgest

When the roses wilt,
as florid as they once bled

When the dust mounts,
as subtle as it once did settle

And the old stinks
though new as it once smelled

 Modernity unexpectedly arrives...
and gives the whole place
an overhaul!

A joyful culmination

emptying moon

filling shore

shedding hair and nails

till one such dawn

(sooner  it ought to come)

where we'll take no notice

of time passing

cause we'll be 

making our passage

with it. 

universe

Commands rite
Yields mystery
Vessels ills
Entertains!
Tints truth
Frightens light
Bellows silence

Black,

Contrasts everything.

Many things, one

whey powder white,

Thatchroof brown,

Labia minora pink,

Vaccuum seal blue.

Tiger

imperial regalia

I see it everyday

But i always look twice

Your naked body to me

Is still finery

Us

We found each other

Without search 

without warrant

While we didnt know

We were looking.

And though, again

Time beckons a break

We go seperate ways

Knowing without question

That once more soon

We'll unite

And embrace

Like the old

And eternal friends

We have grown

to become

worth

As i robe to get to work
i like to shout at the mirror
"I'm an artist"
not a corporate cow
grazing on the fake green grass
of the background image
on the desktop of the PC screen


i swear that today,
i shall keep my head
where my buckles are
but too soon
my mouth is open wide
spreading the good news
of the fact that "I'm an artist!"
not some office oaf
picking my nose between
microsoft windows 7
outlook calender post updates

So one of these good days
I'll resign
after months of
standardisation.
So that I wake and accept,
joyfully oblige
and need not convince myself
that "I'm an artist!"
instead of some fucking fashionista
with a plastic toy camera
that i can pose with in pictures
instead of taking them.