My mind is tribal, I hunt in the mud and slurry,
I track the stars in a wooden chariot
made from the ribs of a blood-clan crib.
My thoughts are armored, yet as articulated
as any youthful flesh, they cannot be washed,
or manipulated, I have an ax for every hand
against them, a caress for those
who choose to fight on the battlefield
of inspiring ideas,
a painted arrow and shield to defend
the commandments of ever-mutating gods.
A green tree within a high mountain
is my mind, a solar flare of endless creation
are my barbaric prayers,
the same orisons that now civilize the corrupt
and morally spent.
I am the heart of existence, my tribal markings
cannot be scrubbed away, by smooth-skulled
manikins or the slick prattle
of any grandiose legion.
The freckles that dapple my face
are more than beauty spots,
marks of where barbaric sun
has kissed me
and left a small dot.
When the hours of darkness arrive,
I look up at the freckled sky
and fall in love with the universe.
I wonder what if all the freckles
living on my body
were actually stars,
stars that are muddy imprints of galaxies
that our eyes refuse to focus on!
There were days
when I was young
and they used to loathe the stars on my cheeks,
resembling the night sky
in July.
I would smile and answer back,"when I was born
the gods painted my face with a map of constellations,
and who doesn’t love
looking at the starry sky?”
Now that I’m all grown up, all I know is
a face without freckles is like
a night sky without stars!
A-ilment's
N-asty
G-rime
E-mploys
L-ethal
L-ink
U-sing
B-arbaric
R-isk
I-n
N-otoriety
Topic: Birthday of Angel F. Lubrin (May 09)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
B-rutal
E-pidemic's
V-irus
E-mploys
R-abid
L-ink's
Y-ucky
C-orona
A-s
B-arbaric
A-ttack
L-ets
L-ungs
E-xperience
R-isky
O-utbreak
Topic: Birthday of Beverly J. Caballero (May 07)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
F-ight
L-ethal
E-pidemic
R-epulsing
Y-ucky
R-aunch
O-nce
B-arbaric
L-ink
E-mploys
D-eadly
O-utbreak
Topic: Birthday of Flery Robledo (April 19)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Though in motion
Just like them
I am just a potion
To be mixed with a stem
To be concocted into some lotion
To cure their poverty problem
I am an albino
A PERSON with albinism
I am not a stray rhino
I have a HUMAN mechanism
I am NOT evil
Neither a charm for Satanism
Now my soul is a refugee
In my own insecure body
My government is like a bribed referee
Who enjoys the parts of my body
Being chopped off like a worthless tree
For greedy reporters to have a story
God of resurrection,
How will I resurrect?
When my head is in Liwonde
My two eyes are in Chiponde
And my remains that were buried in Lilongwe
Are being wolfed down in Mitole?
Since my death is not a serious case
God, was my birth a curse?
Why didn't you let me die in the hands of the nurse?
Now that my world has completely turned worse,
When my innocent life gets snatched from me like a purse
Would you kindly open your heavens widely for my soul to rest?
!
As winter's last barbaric breath
Resounds upon the Stirling hills
New season brings in sun and warmth
Makes a widow of winter's chill.
In winter's fist that held me tight
It's hold seemed to be perpetual
But day always follows the night
And hope springs from Him eternal.
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