Bricks

weird , fast paced

I hold liberating chains that encapsulate

water rushing at the mouth of a river, flowing

in my lack of knowledge I take a walk and meditate,

there is perniciousness in not knowing.

A bucket overflows with the dung of a household,

one that holds, the pain of a generation

a child, bruised, beaten, raised and sold,

suffering the neglect of a generation.

These bricks bring back memories:

a cub lost and mothered by anarchy

innate rage, crippling sadness and anxiety

I wish I could lock it up and throw away the key

I long for relief, I am Atlas with my stone,

shoulders bleeding, legs weak and head down,

I just want a COOKIE and wish I could be stoned

or go to town

look around and

turn my frown

upside down 

These walls remind me of when I was shook with rage

shook with rage

shook.

The fear of speaking aloud made me put down the book

a spoon stirring the pot of volatility

that I cooked

stream of thoughts, being totally fucked

I locked stamped and BOOKED 

and sat in my seat on the wrong journey

I said please don't 

please don't 

please don't

burn me.

The path skews, bends and winds.

Rewind, to the rape victim at the scene of the crime 

longing for an escape and release in bliss

once they get away they will find the time

 to be fine 

Life seems to abate into a constant stream of flowing piss

crashing, circling in a yellow puddle

no, not subtle, but thats how it goes

it sinks down the hole and out of your nose.

Don't fret, think about the swaying of the boat that's secure in the water

concentrate on the blowing wind against the rocky sea shore, 

focus the man's hands sculpting clay and mortar

hold on tight , stay true and be sure .