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On Democracy


More than ever,
they are killing people in Libya;
Long after the West uprooted Brother Muammar
And 'gifted' his people democracy.

Long after they hanged Saddam to dry,
They are killing more than the tyrant ever did,
But the West, they says it was worth the try,
Democracy...

Long after the CIA
Like Magi from the West
Gifted Ghana democracy,
Removing Nkrumah at Greed's behest,
Neocolonialism is today's democracy.

The damage is called acceptable,
blood, the currency with which we purchase our misery,
But it's democracy,
The West, they know what we need best.

Neocolonialism,
Imperialism,
Tyranny,
Blood...

My math is bad,
But last I checked,
They added up to Democracy.

*****September 9, 2015*****


I wrote this is a string of tweets while my mind was fuzzy from battling insomnia. I had no idea what I was doing. I checked them out this morning and they made a decent poem so enjoy and let me know your thoughts.

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Bedtime Epiphany of a Pining Heart

Tonight,
I contemplated
On things that were and were not,
On why
Light retracts different, in your eyes,
Like rainbows randomly ricocheting
Off my intangible thoughts,
Spellbinding...

On why,
Words sound different, on your lips,
How you laugh,
How the sounds take a path,
Across infinite dreams,
Into all my incarnations,
Into all my iterations,
Into all...

Tonight,
I concluded
You are a figment
of my imagination,
You must be...

For
God is not so cruel
That he made a Heaven like you
Then condemned me
To the Hell of perpetual longing
Wanting, and never belonging...

*****September 14, 2016*****


God is My Barber

The sickness that made the Vulture bald
would have killed the Crow.

It is because
the gods are petty
and would not be questioned
about who they show favor to,
That Crows live to,
Squawk hysterically
At Vultures' misfortune.

We have come to understand, that,
when a petty god is your barber,
Crows, who can't afford a razor,
with their benevolent destinies,
will punctuate our precious peace
with their shameless snickering.

but
the Vulture
neither
pays any mind
nor
wages a war of words
with mockers and scoffers;
for the cure for baldness
is not found in the laughter of Crows...

*****April 4, 2017*****

http://morganes-photographe.deviantart.com/
My Second poem about Vultures. I really need to stop this...😂😂😂

The Vulture

In times of famine,
The Vulture does not eat grass.
When Leopards are lean
because antelopes nowhere to be seen
The Vulture sits and watches,
Waiting...

Those who mocked his baldness
Will do well to remember
None has seen the Vulture's corpse
And he is secure in the knowledge that none will.

So,
when it rains
And they mock him
For having no nest still,
He holds his peace,
Watching...
For the Vulture, he's a patient animal.

The Vulture is not vindictive,
Those who mocked will die,
Those who didn't will die,
It matters not.
For when carcasses lay ripe
The Vulture does not ask
If his feast was once friend or foe

*****February 1, 2016*****