ARRESTING WEATHER
Nature controlling;
Putting us under arrest:
Jailing us inside:-
They want to lock up Officer Crespo for 27 years
But is the case as it appears?
I got a letter from the Center for Police Defense.
They claim the accusation makes no sense.
Crespo was called for backup, drug dealers were speeding at night
They pulled over and pointed a gun, wouldn't that give you a fright?
He wanted to make it back to his four kids and wife
He managed to shoot first, killed but saved his life.
The court did not tell the jury about the drug dealer's crime spree.
Reading what he did that night, that doesn't seem fair to me
The guy had just beat up his girlfriend and he was high on a drug.
The car was stolen, the gun illegal, not the type to give a hug.
The letter made another claim: that the D.A. dislikes police
If the letter is correct, this witch-hunt must cease.
Cops don't start a day wishing to kill a man
Life in jail for manslaughter is not part of their plan.
If you get rid of good cops, someone else will fill in
You won't like the new enforcers; results will be grim.
I'm not a blind believer, we should follow every clue
But it's easy to make judgements when the gun doesn't point at you.
I tried to fly without white wings
I cried inside with soul dying
Broken spirit broken dreams
Can you hear it my black heart screams
I was asleep and yet awake
Nightmares so deep they escape
The well in me the hell in me
Tormented spirits keep jailing me
I hide my heart in my shoe
Like it is money or gold’s fool
I walk around limping in pain
For I hate sun and love the rain
For sun makes clear all shadows
I’d disappear like a haunted ghost
Ever so near to holy hope
Depression is weird like me you know
Glassy eyes from teal tears fried
My heart broken my insides tied
Into burnt knots of mahogany
Lost in thought my glassy wings
We have taken up arms
Against what has been rejected
Inoculated ideology
To prevent perfection from being infected
All energies focused on creating
A world promised, yet not attained
Hiding sins and transgressions
By jailing the saints
Cycle after cycle set to repeat
Medal adhered, firmly, to the feet
Ride on, brother and sister
....ride on
But try to make it count
Reason every season
Walk the talk
To reveal what LIFE is all about
Outside, in depth
Everywhere you go
Exposing or hiding
Someone will always know
....secrets
It is the fear of what will be
That holds the power of what we see
...as true
Perception of self, destroyed
Identity, armed and deployed
...as worthless
So tired of the fight
Just wanting to be known, in life
Fully embraced and accepted
Judgment pulls the lure
Invites and adjures
To idealize the perfected
....idol
Written by Trudy Schrader on 03-04-2023
could not sleep at night
thrilled to wake and play around
in and out of rooms
as though gems hidden and found
nights merriment resurrected
smiles laughs howls screams shouts and yells
star gaze in summer
recounting and accounting
quilt nights of winter
licking fresh dew drops of spring
butterfly watching catching
picnics to stations
filled with hills and mountain range
playing on meadows
plucking all barred flowers strange
when caught hid behind mother
gathering sea shells
banking them as though gold coins
counting them daily
adding them into bead-joins
wearing like a clown
playing police-thief
arresting little culprits
acting like jailing
taking them to hill summits
to shoot them there from
cries to go to school
coming back happy and thrilled
hating to read books
running out to play joy-filled
coming back ready to sleep
countless memories
how much I could go on with?
I should now cut short
I express only herewith
longing to re-live them all
18 August 2022
Childhood Nostalgia Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: JCB Brul
Destined to repeat
yet another jailing to the hot rail
trip to an off-sale
on one last hunt for the grail
Booze from the gallery
drowning in a desperate plea
unchanged as Mr. Derange
stitches up a web for thee
South Africa
The rainbow paled in South Africa
the end of apartheid has ended, freedom for all.
Not quite, the poor in Soweto are getting poorer.
The difference it now consists of white poor as well.
The new leadership behave like the old one corruption
and shade dealings.
South Africa is practically a democratic one-party state.
Or was democracy and equality brought on too early?
It takes time.
What is there to say when people riot and burn down
the places where they buy their daily bread and have to walk for miles
to buy milk for their children, other than an act of despair.
Big business is doing well, thank you.
But nothing has been done to alleviate the suffering of the poor.
The rainbow state has lost its lustre.
If you wonder why the poor ran amok was the jailing of Jacob Zuma
Despite his failings, he has an African heart, which the new elite, dipped in white culture,
failed to see.
He is the chieftain dethroned and Africa bleeds.
Her wings are sublime, fluttering about,
From blue to an indigo plum,
Filling her world with a delicate shade,
Filling the void with her hum,
Then she lands on her perch, her small wooden perch,
She sits with an unblinking gaze,
And looks to the world that she could’ve loved,
To the forests and beaches and waves,
But her mirror tells the story to her every day,
Her mirror shows the maid she became,
With the cage in her head jailing this bird,
Imprisoning her will and her name,
And nobody knows she’s a beautiful bird,
Locked up for the rest of her life,
To everyone she’s the tame predictable one,
The mother, the maid, she’s the wife.
Written for Silent Ones contest "One last tear". Written and published on 4th February 2019.
Ranked 2nd
son of man
oh you got power
you rule with
great authorities
you are in charge
of a lot innocent
minds
no wonder you
don't listen
not even to God
no wonder you see
yourself equal to God
no wonder your hands
are wash in blood
oh son of man
change your ways
son of man
corruption
brutality
destruction
killing
starving
jailing
inflation
hardship
tears of pains
you keep on and on
is this all you worth
is this all you value
is this all you know
oh son of man
change your ways
your ways are our
nightmare
son of man
our days are dark
our prayers are withhold
is like we worth nothing
cos the son of man
is no more human
he sit in his worlds
of lies
where he alter commands
of destruction
he got friends
but that don't help him better
nothing
oh son of man
how much wrong
will make you change
oh son of man
change your ways
for soon you will
start to run
but truly I
wonder where will you
run to oh
son of man
A trademark of fascism - hating democracies!
Fewer that vote then the safer they feel.
If political leaders build roadblocks to vote,
Are they fascists attacking us? Is this real deal?
Redistricting's tool to all fascist-like terrorists.
Stripping your vote is what they have in mind!
And to be a dictator their ultimate goal
Hope to cut out your tongue and then render you blind!
A stupid electorate's better than orgasms,
Jailing opponents a power like God,
So immersed in themselves that no 'other' exists.
So no one is their brother, now isn't that odd?
I'd pray for your soul, but I fear it's utopian
If you're a fascist, I'll see you in Hell,
Unless God in His Mercy shows Grace to us both,
When I dream of your death seems I judge you as well.
Long Tooth
June 13, 2018
Writing with a blue pen
Want to write
but I don't know
What words to use
In describing brutality
I bleed with a deep pain
From a seen of wickedness
How can they
beat up my sister like dat
For no reason
They claim to be soldier
Of cos soldier of shame
Treating a mother
like a slave
I swear not to hate
But not with this
I glow in anger
As I write
Who is you that have a right
To dear touch a woman
Coward oh fool
Just becos you wear a kaki jacket
Makes you feel, superior
And above all other people
Oh fool of no sence
I wish I can beat you till coma
I wish you were never born
You do what ever evil that suite you
to the people
Blowing, kicking, flogging,
Above all jailing for no reason
I know the day
you where born
Was curse
And if you fail to change
You will die so curse
Here you see
is better you where not born.
Note
I saw my sister brutally beaten up, by soldier for nothing,
The brutality of police and army soldier in Africa got to stop.
That is the motive of this writing.
As if someone put a lock on my brain
jailing my thoughts and words
caught by the guards trying to escape
prolonging their stay
Stuck behind bars of mental scars
confined to their cell
taunted by numbers and equations
being feed letters and punctuation
through open slots in metal doors
Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka The
Brown Philosopher aka The Green Poet
aka Red Seven
Enemies of the peace
Are not consecrating the life
Tampering with the nature
Crucifying the childhood
On the sidewalks
Burying the chastity
In the brothels
Killing the light
Before coming the dark
Enemies of the peace
Adoring the wars
Kissing the poverty
Dreaming with the famines
Clapping for catastrophes
Destroying everything
Schools
Hospitals
Synagogues
Churches
Mosques
Temples
Enemies of the peace
They want to uproot feelings
To extinguish the flaming longing
In the hearts
And burn the growing yearning
In depths of humans
Enemies of the peace
Robbing the dreams
Jailing the tears
Deforming the colors
Crushing the flowers
Turning off the hope
Enemies of the peace
Not knowing the love
Not appreciating the values
Not believing in the peace .....................
Voluntary blind
I can tell you why, if you want to know
I can show you how, if you are willing to try
I can teach you easily, If you decide to become responsible
It is not easy, but anyone can try
I see them, but feel nothing
Touching them, but have no call
Watching them moving, but I am like sleeping
If you ask me why, my kids’ future is in my mind
They are prettier than mine, but don't have my attention
Better educated and have to offer, they force me to act
But my heart is far away and my feeling is jailing
I am a voluntary blind to save my marriage
I want to save it for my kids’ future
I am engaging with God to be there for them
As he was killed to save my soul
I am voluntary handcuffed
To not using my hands because they can put me in trouble
I keep my eyes, voice, hand, knowledge, and body freezing
To save my promise to the one that I love
I am a voluntary blind to manly live not use
Where is that tune
that keeps on playing
in my mind
it keeps on saying.
My passion is here
with guitar
singing with clout
Yet feeling afar.
I must free it from in
and let it run out.
Let the words touch the paper
so then I may shout.
What seems to jailing me
hidden inside
Stopping me from getting it
My passion likes to hide.
My mask I carry publicly then
let down when I'm alone
Maybe I should lighten up
Regain confident zones.
Love yourself for who you are
Bigger than life, a shooting star
Believe what's made you come this far
Believe in connections, not the scars.
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