Tools of violence

Identity violence

Symbolic violence

Communication violence

Historic violence

Revisionist violence

Repetitive violence

Infantilising violence

Nostalgic violence

Communication violence

Prejudiced violence

Tiring violence

Destructive violence

Sexual violence

Gendered violence

Religious violence

Spiritual violence

Class violence

Linguistic violence

Colourist violence

Male violence

White male violence

Co-opting violence

Toxic violence

Co-opted toxic violence

Ideological violence

Paternalistic violence

Patriarchal violence

Symbolically patriarchal violence

Promotional violence

Just violence

Violence violence

Tiring violence

Too tired coz I’m broken and it’s the result of all the above and more violence

Mental violence

Inferred violence

Implicit violence

Bright-eyed violence

Broken souls violence

The once you had bright eyes but then you got co-opted and are stuck but still need peeps and I get it but don’t you get that I get it, so why you gotta erase the stuff we excavate and stop us entering and flinging open the doors-no revision check, not open the doors break all these fracking symbolic capitalistic colonial walls – so that we can all evolve together and your tired eyes can weep and rejoice in celebration with us all, bold beautiful and brave and bound to the forward March of completing our shared ancestors abolitionist principles and journeys to create a new fair fresh deprogrammed society so we keep being we and us, and you and me, happy and free together… urgh! Gah! For f***! *sigh* but you can’t and that’s violent, violence.

So instead here we stand. Ina pyramid and I keep trying to educate and create and collate and collaborate while we survive and you thrive but I don’t even cry coz I’m proud inside that at least someone who got one part of our ancestral spirit souls good side to the table where it’s all about whose there to dine, and whose outside… not about our fellow people who die and are also pushed towards pipelines to die. Whether quickly or slowly, that’s for us all to see with our eyes.

I’m too tired to speak, so I’ll leave it to that… and sleeps for the night.

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An ode to a lost love

I cannot seem to escape thee

Your majesty compels me

My root fixated in being with you,

Fibre-optic news of your being blowing upon every breeze,

I remain forever frozen unsure of what to do,

Head down, fangs snarled, head pumping,

running for eternal coverings,

picky as I sit confused in quagmires, unwilling to accept willingly shared offerings,

Undaring to dream of countless substitute hauntings,

Uncaring as I spend unknown hours inflicting slow suffering,

Undoing the work of these past months faring,

As my head turns and yearns in a direction I lost,

I’m broken and alone,

With no chance of igniting you to bring me home,

You’ve moved on like a bejewelled whore,

Words and sweet love were never your goal,

I am cast ashore,

Head bursting from this great fall,

I await patiently my next opened door,

Crippled with unproductive, unusable hope,

awaiting to be turned onto passion-filled lifetimes,

Heady lifelines,

anxiously enticing my spent imagination,

As I wonder who you go a-courting,

My love surrounded by owners of a thousand shirt-tails.

#NaBloPoMo #18: An awakening of sorts

Sometimes I regret this youth’s rude awakening.

I am lost to an unknown world,
banished to roam it alone,
unknowable cannot relate this viewpoint I have,
straddling converging, conflicting thoughts and hopes,
constantly muted by each and every world,
all corners that conflate only in the instances to tell me I am wrong,
perverse, without a worthy soul or worth.
Rejected I lie,
wondering why I was ever,
ever once held in many loving arms?
Why my sensitivity and empathy was nurtured?
so that all I am left with is these deep feels.

I allowed myself to be moved for other’s good,
Hurt, poisoned, burdened and fettered to help other’s progress,
Now I keep trudging this narrow valley filled with darkened shards,
Constantly cut and ripped up,
The dull, whitehot, eternally searing pains feel so light,
Ever present soothed only by blindingly volcanic tears.

This woman is left safe in the knowledge that this soul will forever remain untouched.
Though my life, identity, body and eyes will no doubt keep being dirtied.

I’m in Love with a Liar and a Coward.

I’m in love with a liar & a coward
Who is a perpetual man-baby
carting around a new love-sick puppy

A faker of the highest degree
Pledging innocent ignorance
as he flees
Into their shared lair
with all their cultural cool flair

Her only appeal, to your
incessant search for youthful zeal
is her proximity to the context
in which there’s no precedence
for our fair sex.

She is much sought
though she pledges she knows nought.
You all show far too much knowledge
to feign to play,
fully virginal, unwilling sacristans,
of your electric fonts.

She yearns for you and gives you
the sign that she approves
of your innocent interest
And your eyes alight on that
contest of which she is the only conquest.

You wish to win that unholy war
In a world where its all about score

All I am now is a holy whore
Devoid of any further value
Sat withered and alone,
with weathered skin and bones,
many hollowed holes,
a quietened tongue attached to an eternally fired mind.

(written August 20th/21st 2015 – My re-birth of poetic soul. I think.)