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.


A Gentle Lingering

A Gentle Lingering

Your gentle words make me cry,
But there’s no-one here to dry these eyes,

Your gentle hands type their byes,
But aren’t here to quieten my sighs.

Your gentle words make me cry,
But your not here to dry my eyes.

You didn’t have to be a mess,
I didn’t have to keep applying such stress,

You could’ve helped us suffer less,
I didn’t have to resort to states of undress.

You didn’t have to make this mess,
I share a greater blame, I must I confess.

I still see you opening the door,
I think we long to enjoy it some more,
But are stuck being chained bores,
Stuck in winning only at repetitive plays of score.

We didn’t have to fuck this up,
I shouldn’t have told you why it all sucked,
Roasting our burns and opening our scars,
Allowing our love to be burn and cooked.

Why didn’t your words come out?
Why didn’t your rail and shout?
Why is passion and rage a hidden simmering sight?
Why could you not have put up a fight?

Your gentleness lingers and makes me weep,
My worded passions will forever run deep,

Your emotions play half bright at best,
I hope that God allows me to pass this test.

Your gentle words make me cry.

But you won’t return to dry these eyes;
kiss my lips;
lay in unwedded bliss;

help us move on,
together as one,
forever at home,
within each other’s arms,

forgetting all of this shit.


Type, type type,

type, type, type,

down here I sit,

down here I write.

I wonder if I’ll get to talk to you tonight?

I’m getting better, I’m fighting fitter,

as I sit to re-paint our shared grey-green picture.

The blue-sky still eludes me,

For I can’t get out of my duvet,

acceptance has entered my heartbeats,

but the memories of you run too deep,

my blood hungers for your heat,

thoughts of us are seldom weak.

I say I will pay them not an ounce of my time,

Was going our separate ways a crime?

When will every tendril of affection die?



Implosion of Love

My love for you rages with the strength
of a thousand burning suns.

But all suns are acutely aware of
their own mortality, life span +
The destruction that will ensue
in it’s wake.

Once the universal light switch is flicked off.

I always see you in profile
many half-faces
so many expressions, emotions +
An ever-changing constant.

Though we’ve expanded,
deeper as universal seekers.
Shining deep voyager rays
under the very fabric of our beings.
into the micro-molecule of each other’s emotives.

Though our Cartesian civilisation has evolved,
Our interests and intellects pursuing opposite walls,
Atlantan in our hopes and feats,
Toiling to keep our house in top-peak.
We’ve gotten cultured,
your face fuller, your M higher,
my brooding breasts and belly broader,
Has mono-culture watered our heat?
Have we risked our getting closer?
Must our hearts burn now, as strangers?