Let Them Be Heard

25 years two shadowed giants have warred,
25 years armies have left the heart of the
     motherland scarred.
And all this time we stand oblivious,
to small black bodies who can't call to u.s.

Stealing away at night from a monster named Kony.
This Joseph doesn't dress in a coat of colors,
but hides behind a robe of raging intimidation.
Cloaking a nation in a darkness no government,
     or church
          or baby's laughter
can stop.

His Holy Spirit fuels a resistance,
but who's holy morals cross a distance.
Becoming the serpent not using temptation,
but burning Eden after Eden,
and dragging with him,
the Youngest creations.

Young ones drafted with mounds of dread,
and their general never ceases,
he is a disease thats spread.
For 25 years, across Africa like a weed.
From Uganda, to Congo and Sudan his hatred
     naught but a seed.

Carlos Andreas Gomez asked 'whats genocide?'
Just ask 16 year old Nabirye(1),
face slashed for not sleeping with a soldier.
Ask Dembe(2), 12, who watched his own mother beaten
as he was dragged to the ranks.
Or 8 year old Namazzi(3),
shot at, set on fire,
burnt,
and burnt.
and still ran with her life.

So open your eyes and see Uganda.
Open your eyes and see the Children.
Open your eyes, and let them be heard.

1-meaning mother of twins
2-meaning peace
3-meaning water

Heaven's Birth

When existence writhes and kicks in growing pains
As its limbs expand and extend
And its roots rip from the earth
There will be no law
Mathematical equations and concrete numbers
    will stretch into thin abstractions and be
    replaced by theories and art and myths
Textbooks and bibles will become one and the sky
    will be our teachers and we will breathe
    living words and bleed fairy tales
Until everything is truth

Knights

He told me to put on my invisible goggles
So I could see the dragon
Then with our tobacco stick swords
    and harmonizing battle cries we
    charged across the front yard
We slashed and stabbed the thin rusty
    fence until he decided the monster
    was dead
Then we sat around the fire and celebrated
    our victory with smores

My Women

My women create generations:
My brothers, sisters, cousins,
all of God's creation.
Vagina's that could birth a nation.
Through every light and darkness and rust and gold
life, crosses those lips.
Lost ones, disobeying, but some raised right,
for some whip, some spoil,
and seeds fail to keep it tight.
But my women stay prayed,
and their love and lessons stay
to the light.
Why suffer at the hands of children's hearts so coarse?
drug dealers, cash stealer's,
and ones too young already off course?

My women are resilient.
soldiers against every illness hell sent.
muscle loss can't stop,
cancer might make weight drop,
and though every joint is replaced,
a massive heart beats on top.
Aunt's lost her mind a gyre,
left a sister at a child's conniving,
left her to perspire.
none keep the health,
but none ever lose the fire.

Me?

I hope I'm blessed to be able to keep adding to this.

Why me God?
Why me to be called who I am?
Why me to be the son of a teacher-
      and an humble factory worker?
Why me to want to be better then that?
Why me to be born a in 1993-
     and not '33?
Why me to pass a stereotypes-
     and live in suburbs?
Why me to make a living dancing-
     and not dealing?
Why me to lust-
     and love?
Why me to be dark-
     and light-
     and of the redman?
Why me to be intelligent?
Why me to be oblivious?
Why me to read and write-
     sing and dance?
Why me to walk out of heaven,
     and see my age in hell?
Why me to drive off in a car,
     and them to be led inside wearing shackles?
But, Why me to be in your image
hideous,        beautiful,
     hateful,            loving,
          chained,            free?
Thank you-
     for me.

a Dos Moi

Woman from a distant land,
why a gaze so cold?
Beautiful Blonde, never bland,
but i still at every advance-
     shoot back hatred so cold

Woman from a distant land,
Something I'll never know:
your kiss was sweet when i once
     held your hand.
I skirt away yes-
but why, yes, why,
Is your heart as your lands snow?

War

Patriot
"Come on, Gabe. This is what you've been training for."
I try not to talk to myself but in some situations, you can't stop it.
The mind needs some persuasion from the mouth to force the body to walk towards death.
Trotting along the road of sand and bullet casings,
I tried to remember "home"
Anything to help drag my feet forward
Mom's cooking filling every Sunday with mouth-watering smells and satisfied silence
Dad laying back in his bulky maroon chair reading new books that all looked the same
Elisha's smooth lips brushing against my own
PKIH! PKIH!
Gunshots to my left interrupted my thoughts
Trembling, I walked forward, determined to do anything necessary for the freedom of my family and country
And muttered a soft prayer
"God, forgive me."

Enemy
"Come on, Jibrīl. This is what you're here for."
I tried to stay calm to avoid a panic attack, but I could feel my hands shaking around the gun they held
To remind myself of why I was there, I tried to think about home
Which was only a few yards behind me, curtains shut and doors locked
Umm's cooking filling each day with mouth-watering smells and content discussion
Ab laying back in his small wooden chair reading religious texts every evening
Alyasa's soft lips brushing against my own
PKIH! PKIH!
Gunshots to my right interrupted my thoughts
Trembling, I walked forward, determined to do anything necessary for the freedom of my family and country
And muttered a soft prayer
"Allah, sameehnee."