Thirteen Takes

When caught mid-flight End to bloat against gravity Thanks, rejection is not of the earth My eyes are welling I won’t hold back with shame Even warriors often times loosen, weeping A good mother’s breast thrust Not in for the oldest trade Gives the child, from infant, the best trust The sexton is a pagan Lushness of the hashish field Makes his story from Canaan Morals pillar nobility But nature spares by – Insofar as the choice is moderacy Over me they seek to keep They can shape me, me too a shaper Just that I start a peep A quest to solve the world Challenged to fix my head Get me defined – no word Launch talks for luck One screen sets parts Grace, lone-stands, earns buck Formless strife made me worry An envoy made as of succubus Made me awoke being sorry He who sounded the gong Has done it wrong And rhythm’s lost in our song The earth, about the Sun, rotates Science, my house remains on its plot Lies make the pupils dilate Africa! Here some questions Khartoum, Mogadishu, Malaria, HIV, Genocides . . . ? Orients through Occident find me solutions Muses – a kind that’s potent Might make me hit the laureate’s podium And be free of amateurish latent!