Awaiting Her Transformation

Worn out from the
Remnants of natives,
Here I lie atop the
Graves of ancient civilisations,
Cultivating my heart for
A well-choreographed dance,
A birdsong making its way
Towards the doors of heaven,
And there I meet her, an
Exotic figurine, my stellar angel.
Passing through the realms of
Humanity day and night,
Beams of halo surrounding
The inner core of humanity,
To relieve the slaves from their
Eminent fate of bottomless pits,
And to revive the smiles of a forlorn
Youth deemed to be among the forgotten,
So, here I delve into her inner cave
Protected from the creeping eyes of others,
And I see, and I hear, and I touch,
As I explore her caged emotions,
So please, let them out, O stellar angel,
And let me absorb your enraging tears,
For as long as the heart beats and the lungs breathe,
I will protect you as you await your transformation.

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Change the System Not the Climate

Now, you just need to write
It down like you did before,
Something you are angry about,
Something about this world, or
Something you are passionate about,
Something that you want to protect –
No matter what,
Something you want to forever erase –
No matter what,
Write about the voiceless justice,
Or about the cries of rotten rats
That swarm the news headlines,
Billionaires owning what we hear,
What we see, and what we read,
The one percent guiding us,
The ninety-nine, into believing
The benefits of their mastery over
Our voluntary enslavement,
A charitable movement from us,
The ninety-nine, towards them,
The one percent, and indeed,
We allowed our men into war,
Maggots feeding on the sizzling
Dish to be served on golden
Plates and royal cutlery that
Become tomorrow’s headlines,
And we believe in their heroism,
We cheer for their deaths,
And we cheer for their return,
Returning wounded and voiceless,
And if any exposes the buried
Atrocities, then we accept
The system that puts them
On the menu for Today’s Special,
And we vote for the one percent,
For their beautifully carved thrones,
A burden that we choose to carry,
In our name they decree airstrikes
On hospitals, schools, and places
Of worship with cover stories to
Allude us into dancing our feet
Off the ground until we believe
Our transformation into celestial
Creatures; angels that protect
The world from corruption,
From demons in their own lands,
The lands of the ninety-nine,
Resources sucked out dry
As their thrones continue to
Expand in our sacred name,
And as we smoke our air
Into smithereens because
The system is meant to be
Treated that way, we await
A dance ritual from the one
Percent to alleviate our
Suffering, and what we,
The ninety-nine, see are them
False banners about the attempt
For climate change in the next
Few decades, a hopeful bait like
A carrot to a donkey’s journey,
And one day the carrot will
Burn and the donkey will
Run in reverse failing to
Notice the enclosing floods,
And indeed, in our sacred
Name the planet will survive,
The one percent in their jets
Will survive, but never us,
The ninety-nine of us
Will continue to roll a die
Into the inevitable homelessness,
An acceptable collateral damage
Discussed in their board meetings,
So, no need to find a solution
Since there is no problem
In this profit-driven system,
Devised by the one percent;
Meanwhile, we applaud their
Beautifully carved thrones as
They dust us out of history.

O Human

Read, speak, or write,
But never be silent
O human
Weep aloud today for
Tomorrow’s smile,
Or shout silently –
An inner earthquake,
Or an outer volcano,
Whatever you do,
I do, we do,
Try to survive a
Hopeful peace,
Feel, O human, feel –
Feel anger mixed with
Boiling hearts,
Feel sadness crushed
Into your chest,
And fight,
And stand,
As one human,
O human,
O fragile being,
O emotional treasure,
O beautiful creature,
The prey of monsters,
The free soul of a
Whispering nature,
Raise your hands
And pray,
For yourself,
For others,
For me,
Stand and sing
For those who left,
Sing and stand
For those who stayed,
O human, live,
Live, O human,
Live.