earthslang

Circusymmetry April 8, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 4:12 pm
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Walking with you at the circus.

Holding your hand cause

I’m afraid you’ll wander and

Get sat on by the giant elephant

Or tricked by the mean clown.

Holding your hand cause

The two headed snake makes me shiver

And the bearded lady’s mournful gaze

Is a little too much like mine.

The fire breathing tiger compels you

To lean in and touch it’s life-force.

Good thing I’m holding your hand cause

I yank you away in time

Reprobation.

What would I do with

A one armed, tiger-burned you?

You say you’re going for a pony ride;

You won’t be back for a while.

And I say fine, go.

I let go your hand and

Imagine the worst

Because the circus is the place

Where imbecilic imagination breeds.

I wander the circus for weeks

Sick of cotton candy sweet,

Sick of collision of glitter and manure,

Sick of sleeping cold alone under the bleachers.

And then you’re back,

Thoroughly inside yourself.

That show pony took you to the saddest funeral and

You need the tiger’s energy now.

So I pull you to the cage but

You no longer want to seize the fire.

I turn back to persuade you,

Tug at your hand.

Where is your hand?

I’m holding the lock to the cage

And I hear the crowd gasp.

I look up and see a demigod in gold

Leaping from tightrope to pinhead,

Confident flight,

Resolute balance.

The crowd gasps

And I in unison,

Lift my hands to the bright flying jumper

And I feel the torrid breath on my neck.

I’m burning here,

Locked in this tiger cage without

My imaginary friend.

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Ode to self deception March 28, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 11:20 am
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Did you know about the take and give

The give and take,

The forget and forgive,

The live and let live?

Cause I’m living and you’re letting die.

 

Now I’m trying so hard to work it

And working so hard to try

To find the hole you intentionally tripped into

While I was running heedless ahead

Flying our thousand-colored kite.

 

And I refuse to seek attention

So now I’m attention seeking

But your attention is time limited,

Space limited

Goal limited

To a goal that wasn’t me

In a time of confusion and

A space reserved for solitude.

For interrelational reservation.

 

Too bad so sad that

I don’t endure iron clad oblivious.

Self deception has pickable locks and

I have hidden picks in my pockets;

I have a new question.

Why did I think I was a goal of yours?

Your ego is your goal

And I can’t judge that.

But if carniverous vampire bats are altruistic enough

To vomit up warm blood for the unlucky hunters,

Can’t you vomit up a little empathy

For someone who needs a few minutes of help?

 

A Mental Obstruction of Sorts February 27, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 10:10 pm
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Your mind’s maze intrigues me.

You’re a scientific mystery

Composed of dark matter, relational chemistry, and personal polarity.

Your thinking undefined is in fact a well aligned

Universe, expanding while the rest of us are closing our minds

And blindly falling farther behind.

Since no one’s mind could know what you know

Or catch your frequent overflow,

You’re threatened by a death tableau.

Your mind feels the footfalls of desperate intent

That rarely relent enough to prevent

Your mind from being homeless while it still pays the rent.

Your mind-block lets me hypothesize

But science-like tools can’t rationalize

And I’ll never see through your inner eyes.

 

Your commemoration to Reggie the lifer February 19, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 9:33 pm
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You stutter and your story starts:

 

“He shave his head cause once you hear his story you need to look at him in a diffrent way.┬áNow I shave my head too.”

You learned to be a man in the projects

Where noone and nothing gets or gives respects

The pushers piss in the hallways

And only disrespecting and protecting pays.

And the little Asian man who planted flowers

Got shot down one night after hours

Cuz he tried to protect the little bit of green

That represented the disillusioned dream

Of disintegrating brotherhood.

In a degenerating neighborhood

 

“He told me bout a lil bird in Africa that turn its head all the way round so it looks behind at the past ‘fore it head for the future.”

 

Your head must not turn very far

Cuz you kept on dealing after your first scar

Turned into 5 scars and a gunshot wound

And then you still weren’t attuned

To societal hurdles holding you back

Or the fact it was you who was under attack.

Turn your head around little bird.

Read through the phony, perjured words

Attend to the ancestral purview

That the war on drugs was a war on you.

 

“When he leave there they gonna send him out in a bag.”

 

Projects, gang, penthouse, prison

Were all your homes of ostracism.

You met your mentor in the hardest home

A lifer with no eyes on the prize and a lost life poem.

He gave you a smoke, a smile, and a good word

And prevented your rape when you got transferred.

Taught you to stay up late and stay on guard

When to pull your trump card and how to die hard.

Taught you in prison to trust in a brother

Cuz you’re coming from one war into another.

 

“I left some good people in there that never comin out.”

 

What February 7, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 4:33 pm
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What utensils in your cell could possibly prepare you to adapt to the change

You’ll inevitably face.

God knows your aptitude for adaptation will be challenged by life’s alterations:

Mundane changes that you stubbornly resist but then begrudgingly accept.
Your own changes that abet a better tomorrow today or that extinguish hope from the undertaking.
And then there will be the inconsequential changes that you’ll apprehend are momentous when it’s almost too late to
retract your disregard, contract for deferment, and exact the difference that’s left.

And a change will come,

More underhanded and invidious than

Your failed shanghaied suicide.

Your body beat and left for dead in Cabrini Green when you thought you’d be leaving in a limousine.

You left behind in the projects with a toddler when your dreams didn’t annex

To reality that you lost your son next

To child protection during a slumlord inspection.

But maybe that was change for introspection

Cause your inner fighting schism when they sent you to prison

Soured to fervent fatalism.

Leaving you impervious

–or so you claim–

To change.

 

Treetop February 6, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 10:09 pm
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The city truck came to my yard

And cut off the top of my tree.

I discern a subtle change;

The branches with leaves are more and less free.

 

It was cut off when I wasn’t home.

I was out buying birdhouses and a tire swing

To enhance my extrinsic existence.

My relationship with myself was a fling.

 

Can something new grow from the top?

Because my growth has been stuck in a rut.

They say the powerline is safe now.

But my line to the power of the sky is cut.

 

Your Predilection

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 9:54 pm
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You somehow misplaced the predilection for the band.

Maybe it’s at the church lost and found in the same box as the passion and the joy, the camaraderie and the fellowship of convivial worship.

I’m no Christian but

After 18 years of joining in fervent Sunday songs

And affirming the constant dawning light in your eyes and the invariable hope in your intonation,

I know a little about the assembled musical spirit,

yearning for validation from a more extensive entity.

The jubilation of private and public praise,

The intimacy of shared melody and collective beliefs

Even and especially when the collective precipitates an expulsion from the singing ranks.

Don’t break up the band Yoko.

But do break away from the fallible humans who elicit the spite and resentment that are trying to consume the hope you sing for.