Transcending the rage

You always perpetuate - the same old shitty clichés

Like a mindless fool for the mob

Never a thought you can call of good

Nor that you can call of your own

Never nature nor art nor peace be your reason

Never gentle nor loving nor grace be your mode

Never truth never soul never just you expose

And personal liberty - is completely out of the question

Always calculated and cunning and strategic of progression

Always controlling and confusing and aggressing the weak

Always striving to dominate - for fear of losing it all

And what is it all?

It’s nothing.

It doesn’t exist.

It isn’t real.

It’s what drives you to wake up in the morning and what eases you from stress to sleep in the night

But it doesn’t exist.

What a shame - a shame of a life

Your purpose does not warrant your existence

I am sorry for you, for the monster that you’ve become

You can’t feel like I can

You can’t feel the ecstatic peaks of my love grip

You can’t feel the particular vibrations resonating in your temple

You can’t feel the Whitmans and the Allens and the Dylans massaging your soul

Yes you could once, but you chose to throw it all away, in single pursuit of your filthy vice

I protest your masculine cause from my living room

With eyes glazed and strings in my hands

My hair is long and rich and it covers my eyes so that I don’t have to look on at your chaos

My protest is passive and maternal,

I simply refuse to play your game

But even though I do not interfere with your precious machine,

For you that still just won’t do

You try and force me to grip the wheel as it rolls,

Try to place my feet on the rungs

But upon my refusal, to fury you turn

And you threaten me with the full force of your institutions

But still I refuse, so you turn to me square,

A promise of hatred and cruelty in your stare

You kick me in the face with boots heavy and rancid,

But I do not cry in pain

I do not flinch, I do not flex,

I lift not a finger to oppose your cause

Rather I fix my gaze upon yours, with a chard of knowing in my eyes

And you recognise this stance, from somewhere deep and distant in your past, long since forgotten by so many of your kind

You stress and perplex and search desperately for the correct response, grasping frantically all the way through your experiences so limited

My face bloodied and broken, I laugh to your confusion

To which you respond , the only way you know how

By raising your cane high in the night, desperately clenched by your knuckles so white

It will sail through the air, and come down through the room, and strike me with malice once more!

“Why don’t you fight?? – Why don’t you resist??”

You scream in confusion and rage

Still silent I lay, and my smile it transcends as you collapse in a heap on the floor

*

And after making you wait, for the right moment’s grace

And to let my words heavy on like a stone

I open my mouth and calmly I utter

I

Love

You