I pawn my prayers for a handful of hunger and the clerk calls it salvation.
One's halo's on hire purchase cracked chrome still sticking on the devil's desk.
I trade mercy by the minute marked down,moth eaten!,mislabeled as hope.
My heartbeat haggles with hell drumming debt into my desperate dawns.
My tears come with interest,each drop a receipt stamped *Final Hell.*
The Spirit goes AWOL on paydays,replaced by plastic faith and payday psalms.
Heaven's door has a coin slot but my pockets cough only dust.
I'm a ghost on consignment groaning in gospel tones for one more breath of grace.
Angels appraise my agony and cry,"too used,too human,too late."
I sing in chains proud and penniless,a prophet of pawned redemption, my soul on layaway.
Politics
used to have
borders
Within which
the battles
were found
But now
those conflicts
spread far and wide
Running
friendships
and families aground
The baby
thrown out
with the bathwater
Noses
cut off
to spite every face
Civility
gone
fraternity pawned
With zero sum
outcomes
— in place
(Dreamsleep: November, 2025)
Verse 1.
A Closed Mouth Catches No Flies
Silence is a strong shield we must learn
Some fights are not worth any bruise
to the soul
You learn this lesson much too late
After all the words explode
Cut like sharp glass so deep
Tongue is set on fire
Mouth shut tight
Wisdom
Bleeds
Verse 2
All That Glitters Ain't Gold
She wears her fake joy like golden wedding
rings
Smiles for the camera, poses for the whole
world
But when all the spotlights fail
Her shine is all on loan,you see
Truth pawned for social likes
Empty and sparkling
Diamond tears fall
Broken
Gone.
Blood is Thicker Than Wi-Fi
The family chat group full of ghosts now
Missed calls unread are just unseen hearts
They say they love you online, bruh
Real hugs require the air
And airtime is quite cheap
Love is data free
No network
If it's
Real
They gather beneath flickering neon,
in narrow alleys where the pavement remembers rain,
where glasses clink like distant thunder
and the air smells of sweat, stale tobacco, and old promises.
A woman’s laughter, cracked and sharp,
spills into the room like broken shards;
a man leans on the bar—his elbow’d sorrow
ordering another round, trading hours for oblivion.
The jukebox—wounded, nostalgic—
grinds out a song of ghosts and faded dreams.
Bartender’s hands shake between bottles
as shadows press against the windows, watchers wanting in.
Walls scribbled with names never spoken—
with hearts shattered, hopes pawned.
Outside, the city coughs, writhes in sleepless neon;
inside, time stands still, drunk and defiant.
We are all believers here—
in the altar of amber liquor,
the hymn of poured whiskey,
in the communion of husbands and strangers.
Midnight cracks open like a broken mirror—
edges sharp, reflection distorted.
Beer calls; gin beckons;
the bouncer counts bodies, not sins.
And when the music fades,
when the lights cut low—
they linger, some to forget, others to feel everything
in the hollow between heartbeats.
Hunger walks barefoot through the streets,
while ministers gorge on stolen meats.
Children suck silence instead of bread,
their futures pawned, their dreams half-dead.
The unemployed queue in endless chains,
their sweat dismissed, their labour drained.
Degrees rot in forgotten drawers,
while power laughs behind locked doors.
Corruption fattens on every deal,
their pockets swelling, ours to steal.
Contracts vanish, truth is sold,
justice buried beneath their gold.
They dine in palaces, sip red wine,
while bodies starve in broken lines.
The country bleeds, yet they parade,
in suits stitched tight from what we paid.
And still they preach of brighter days,
while tearing hope in clever ways.
We see their lies, we hear their song
but hungry voices will rise strong.
We shall rise to fight for our future,
and shadows sharpen into light.
The feast of the few will come undone—
the starving many will be one.
One country for all - equal rights!
Leaders will become servant while followers walk with prestige and honour flying my country flag.
How she loved diamonds, her birthstone.
Literally diamonds were her best friends.
She worked very hard and each piece
of jewelry she bought made her happy.
Cluster of diamonds or solitaires, emeralds
and sapphires with diamonds set in precious
metals of gold or platinum, earrings, bracelets,
necklaces in gold and Rolex gem-set watches.
The most precious ones were the four carat diamond
solitaire ring, the twelve carat graduated
Riviere necklace bought at auctions and the Rolex
watch with diamond-set bezel and dial.
She collected her precious jewels for decades.
Those precious jewels were her pride and joy.
Her eyes sparked when she showed them, and
her excitement filled the room with joy.
She died ten years ago, and her eldest daughter
kept them without sharing any with her sister.
Where are the precious jewels now?
Sold, pawned, or given away?
Not so much
a lie
with little
truth to tell
Not so much
goodbye
with greetings
gone to hell
Not so much
romance
with feelings
dead or pawned
Not so much
to dream
with sleep
— bereft and gone
(Bryn Mawr College: May, 2025)
Maybe it’s time I spoke my mind.
Tell me, what’s the punchline?
The world is upside down.
So my smile becomes a frown.
Spending these dark nights
Alone, under these streetlights
With a plate of alfredo.
I sleep without you.
My friend is gone to Pennsylvania,
The rest drifted away.
I’m in love. It’s mania.
Wish it would stay this way.
Too late, you're a creep.
Pawned, manipulated by one.
You drove away the rest.
You gave everything but the best.
Everything is falling out of scheme.
Lines
Are breaking out of place.
Shattered.
Interactions flew by today.
The world is grey.
Day by day,
“Let’s play the funny guy.”
Let’s look at the upside.
Will you be my guide?
I’ve run out of ash and string,
And I’ve burned everything.
Exchanging my memories for value,
Last week, I visited a pawn shop and pawned my memories.
With each piece, I attempt to disregard the memories.
The most significant item was the wedding ring.
His face appeared before me as we stood
before the judge, exchanging vows that were not upheld.
She attempted to remove the baby ring that no longer fit her.
During her teething period,
I observed her without her expressing any emotions.
I handed the ring over to the cashier, pawning memories I said to him
A gold necklace, the details of its history are unclear, but it is made of gold.
After signing the paperwork, I felt a sense of relief, lightness, and detachment
Although my silver bracelets did not hold significant monetary value, they were of immense sentimental importance to me.
To exchange my memories for value,
It was not as difficult as I had anticipated,
They were simply resting in the jewelry box, awaiting discovery.
Goodbye, my shiny piece of happiness.
This latest theft, stole more than just my money,
It took my soul and left nothing to spare.
With little remains to even fight back with now,
My defeat is final; the white flag is in the air.
Any strength once known has been exhausted;
Chains of despair are left hanging to drag aside.
My new companion is known only as poverty,
Rarely sharing much to diminish the pride.
Looking inward, I seek to learn any lessons,
That could prevent this from happening again.
Although my next thought dwells on any value,
Since my recovery is so unlikely to even begin.
Could this be a lasting piece to the puzzle,
Where survival rests upon those who steal and take?
As if this culling would thin out those weakened,
Leaving those strong enough who want to stay awake.
This may be the greatest hardship that's unseen,
When those can steal what they don't even see in the heist.
So while this theft isn't pawned or even brokered,
The damage is often beyond what is normally priced.
Twilight in a silver dream,
the tide hour with gentle breeze
Grassy paths trod many times
as pawned my footsteps in dust
Remember summer's sweet fruit
with music in the hammock
In a solemn hour for thoughts
- with young eyes another world
An old ring, she lost
Found it in pawnshop, one day
Pawned, hungry belly.
They, the invisible manipulators
that speak for us all,
they called us 'the people'.
Some went seeking Big Foot,
we needed a sasquatch, a mentor.
Some tried hallucinogens,
others called it a day too soon.
Snicker bars were getting smaller,
there was much unfocused discontent.
The dead were accused of letting us down
far too gently.
The people waited
for an artificial Intelligence,
a drug to lead them
to make better decisions.
People lost faith in people,
buskers pawned their guitars and flutes,
violins were sold for guns.
It was the best of the worst,
and it did not get any better
just suspiciously easier.
I have conversed with the common man
in warm and well-worn pubs.
I have been a ribald, and a leery lout,
a seducer of barmaids.
I have been common,
the way a city pidgin is common,
its scabbed claws a common sight,
slipping in and out of poorly lit doors.
Poets are born poor, poorly treated,
and poorly thought of.
The wealthy used to be poets,
but their intelligence
was pawned and loaned to them
by the winking, wicked streets.
They made daffodils out of dog,
many swooned,
but the common people,
we spat out their perfumed souls
for they were distasteful,
much more so
than the knowing fools I talk to
in the most common of pubs.
She pawned her ring
went into hock
Sold her long hair
went into shock
Took to the streets
with naught to eat
Just a smidgen of dope
and a cup of hope
Tried to beg
took in a few bucks
Injured her leg
cried, 'This really sucks'
Do you know this poor soul
She's rather pretty, not very old
A decent gal, she fell through the cracks
of a godless world, where the 'haves' talk smack
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