philosophical phunk

the mind collapses violently the carnival of lies that entertained the young impressionable life suffered

a tear in it’s now rotted penetrable fabric cross stitches erupted with the weight of

boiling hot sin and the anger of the soul possessed by ignorance in the ultimate

court we will know who are the innocent Dante and i sipped old world rye

while we waited for the master of ceremony G Scott Heron to update us on

the state of the revolution and how the forests are ablaze and man stuck in

a maze of filters and face lifts and corporate octopussed armed megalomaniacs are worshipped for

curing babies to work the mines lest you forget not even you can nourish your

carcass on diamonds so we sit while the crowd let’s out

Ixchel’s children

bury me standing feet
rooted nowhere sleep eludes
me walking forever before
Cain’s sin gave rise
to grief that flows
my blood in history
am i not a
star child too nomad
in the mystery of
God like child in
birth to surf the
skies where serpents lay
in slumber this universe
was made for multiple
stars to shine at
smiles so bright that
return the favor blindly

4th

gold line passes through there

four tribes meet and they have been for longer than i can ever know

one Meso one Afro one Europe one Orient peoples beautiful all

same hearts one dream different strokes same same same

the bridge is there she lays on her mighty back we cross not just concrete slabs but worlds too

colors flavors scents labor dignity and the human ego of course

united by segregation of their color segregated from each other by being throw an occasional bone starving of their soul

but upon closer honest sober observation on days of rainbows i can see where the tears are stitched to form the Nation where i stand

we are Los Angeles

riots marches torn down houses strikes children centers Lakers unity churches merchants Mexican chop suey Columbian Korean fusion Woody’s ribs Lupe’s tacos Italian house Red Hot Chili Peppers surfers boarders models ballers

the four directions on the 4th street bridge and what it’s come to be and what we’ve become by it is the rainbow children of our Lady

so before the Hall keepers House gablers blues reds and judge and juries request your seats mind and remember

Porciuncula and her kids do lead and ever will this vast kaleidoscope table

sitting this one out

magic castles border the alley way please lie down and snort the day and the she night will fall upon us yellows oranges whites and grays we see it going to school every day no amount of hatred or political correctness can help the souls astray talk at me tell me what my people did wrong correct me embrace my essence in your doctrine of the truth do you think i bowed to baal when the spirit lifted us higher inclusiveness is nothing new other than the pillar of what to stand for the new language proposal falls like lead into the lakes of empty hearts we know what forked tongues look like my mothers’ shed blood and spirit for the words embedded in my throat and the thoughts of freedom incubated in my mind in the name of equality for all translated into only yours i will not yield my inheritance blindly

apostasia

i love to see Your sunflowers against the purple skyline

Dodger Stadium is to the north and we can hear the tender laughter

then i think of what can happen if You ever got tired of us

the baby cries with hunger and the kings collect their gold

children toil in fields of garbage and the kings collect their gold

women die a thousand deaths of spirit and the soul and yet the kings the

kings collect their gold

the man full of life at dusk while en route to the dawn the poisons of the snakes have found him

i against i

                 i against Your image which is mine

You watch me eternally as i fight against i

the more i do the more i die the more they’re good the more they cry out for mercy

i’d love to see You in the smile of a baby in the streets of Babylon or at the wedding of a girl truly in love

can You smile at the old woman while the sound of the shot aiming at her

blows out

how about in the fevered cancered mind of the split livered alcoholic at the bottom of Bunker Hill

is there mercy in me knowing all the reasons that You hide

or do my resentments keep growing in my belly like a child

why do i have comfort and others do not