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.


What did Eve-Hawaa feel..

They look for signs where there are not,
Fate in the fateless,
I would rather spend a day in supposed sin,
Then allow an eternity in which we all
Explained our misdeed.
What can you not see?
This is me not creating a “wrong” destiny.

There is some pattern here emerging,
This is life washed anew – clean,
Strange because it’s yet to be seen.

Why, of why are you and I still searching?
The magnitude of life has arrived.
Why must we let it escape us?
Why let it break us?
Why allow it to submit us to a lifetime of woeful cries?

I had travelled a broken path.
Unsure, a bore, devoid of hope,
My faith flickering, it’s breath becoming short.

*A quick flash report*
Heaven’s call?
An evening’s meeting – soulmates greeting.
A goodlier soul I had never saw.
My opposite and my composite,
And I his…

Our lifetimes unfolded before us,
Our hands clasped,
Our love righteously sanctioned,
We stumbled fresh-eyed, forward, frolicking in good fun…

I saw us enter the frame,
Shots I had ceased long ago to entertain.
My discipline caused shock and mistrust,
I was forever, it seemed, unsure of us, – of you.
Or does that by extension include me too?

Believe me darling,
trust the faith that I aim to keep sacred,
our lies to ourselves were destructive,
but worse still was the inability to confess and seek absolution,
as we did in those halcyon days,
idyllic students of life, philosophy and faith,
seeking to love and be loved,
with rules and formalities being only worldly capitalist constructs,
that cause schisms and competitions that have us comparing,
ourselves and each other to those younger and more fruitful.
For we only have apples.

But love those apples again,
love that we had them in abundance.
They can be soft and supple or strong and versatile,
Like them our skills and application knows no bounds.
So please would you remain strong and stop looking at the ground!

Why must I always soothe? Why can you not see this is the truth?
I would rather build the world with you, then compare us to someone else’s version of the truth.
I would rather strive to understand the life we had and could create,
Than think about what is at stake for imagined futures that only God can dictate.

But if you wish to leave me.
If what I did was so devastating.
Even though you partook in the severance.
Take these parting truths;

For me you’re always the brightest of hues
My words remain strong in defence of your soul.. our soul.
Even now that we are not whole.
I feel somehow lost and devoid of mine hope…
I wonder mili-second-ly, do you now feel equally cast-out of heaven’s call?
Are you to begin a dynasty, without me?
That then renders me inessential;
Both of use yet obsolete.
To be known only by the terms that you dictate?

My part in this silly, emotional, unclean.
My curiosity and seeking a boon,
This quick mind empathising with that hurt that you seem to cater inside,
Feelings of being discarded, left short, emasculated…
Oh but I should stop here.
For your ears can only but hear,
Your hurt causes you to stop your feelings,
short of understanding and communicating.
I will live out my days here now,
binding the air and our lives in misdeeds.

Out of love taking the hurt and wrong,
until the day you take me back where I belong.


Let’s keep playing..

Longing and regrets,
intermingled with love and trust,
that Hope, that Touch,
just you, just me,
playing at Us,
Why do games end?
On whose score do we depend?
Fickleness is staying to speed,
Allowing the screen to freeze,
Afraid of testing our frailties,
Surely bravery is in accomplishing all feats.
Learning to trust instinct,
Not only that which is seen,
Honing quick reflexes,
as we play through each scene,
Challenging the better in our corresponding sexes.
Honouring the commitment we make,
To our combining hearts, souls and play.

A Morning Vow; Affirming renewal, pondering depths

Virginal and pure I was,
Your mirror in an eternal smoke and fog.
God I thought has led me there fair,
to salvation as best that It could.

I married my soul to you since,
yearly, monthly, daily I preach,
to yours I became.
Following persistent, impatient, self-shame.

Your steadfast quiet fealty scared me,
I could not comprehend,
that Inaction was an Act of itself.


My need to be shown,
To be guided and known,
To see, believe and preach clearly,
of the love that engulfed in between.

Became abhorrant I’m sure,
or perhaps these are still vestiges,
of the internal eternal whore?

Was I a dark deviant run amok?
Did our hallowed strength run short?
Where is my mirrored soul now?
Why can you not echo my shout?

As we did clear and strong,
on the day that we first met,
How could such purity turn out so wrong?


Also written on Tues 27th on that morning bus. I couldn’t help but think of us. 

Unholy War. Float Away. Reconsider. Realise. Goodbye.

Some unholy war lyrics in my head

It all floats away like blossom in water

Like blossom in spring
It all floats away

Like the eyes of field mice
Your stares cut me to ice

[Yours glitter like snow crystals
Full of the same filled promises
that lay unfilled
in my sink
of dirty dishes]

Yours irises dilate
her cheeks flush and blush
smiles dance
new loves romance

those eyes that loved me
that saw me
but a blissful moment ago
have turned and found it’s opposite desire

Like the eyes of magpies
She stares, you stare;
I’m reminded of your lies

My brain turns to fire
my voice cracks higher.

My opposites eyes dance
likewise mine
at this silent tennis match

Your repartees extend in time
find yet obscurer lines
shutting us out
as you seek a new supple mouth.

I reach out I speak.
I know I don’t have the reach.

I ask you (re)consider.
I pledge my liver.
Mama always said I was “too-much-of-a-giver”.

Don’t lie.
Please don’t fight.
I can’t take your dishonesty.
I can’t take yet more frugality, I don’t care for false fealty.

Just be fair, just stand,
Take this unconditional help
Build thyself
Embrace that inner man
With whose dreams you allowed my life to entwine

  just love. just stay.

Don’t make haste.

I don’t need you to be brave.

I want to support, love, honour and obey.
To Help You when You Sway.

As you do so now
Do you really have to let me drown?

Stop, think, consider.
Will anyone ever love you (or us) any dearer?

or else give me back my lungs,
and all the odes of you and us they sung
return my thoughts,
for they have gotten hoarse
help me build my forsaken boats
don’t sail away with flattered eyes
leaving mine in gangrened moats

give back my heart,
take back your feeble darts
Dost thou still have my soul?
Does it stay corked and gray?
While you and she yearn to maul?
when I am gone – that blissful day.

give back my eyes
you cannot quench these eternal cries

and finally my liver
so that I may live cleaner.


I hope when you realise all this,
Of the betrayal you committed
so painfully slow
i hope it was worth it

for every morning, noon and night
that you all conversed on Skype
for every moment I spent looking over
for every coarse word I uttered and apologised for forever
for all this hurt and betrayal you allowed me to commit against myself

i hope that when you are both in bed
metaphorical and literal
that it’s worth it 

That those eyes that you give her
those smiles
those shiny nuggets of you, your life
those attentive beautiful ears

those large comforting hands
that bat me away to whatever land

that you both have that life you deserve

build on my suggestive care and hope,
the future I keep alive for us both
I hope you enjoy it all as you make me travel back

as you cut me off. 

while I go to save pennies and make myself a success
as I keep to The Plan
like always. Ain’t that the mark of a true Man?

I stick to the regiment that you drilled out
attentively listened and yielding to your sound judgment

but you run from anything i utter
in any which way it is given.
yet you cannot fully cut yourself off
for deep down you know this is that one-in-a-lifetime love.

So give her that Hug, that Smile, that Kiss, that Mr Nice.
Let them all see that image that the World half-believes.
The one that I looked beyond but still allowed to cut into My Heart with a cleave.

 (Written 19th/20th August 2015)