Staple Gunned Sanity

*Explosion*


She crawled out
From underneath, 
And began 
picking up the remaining 
Shreds of what remained.

She now
began to staple 
gun all the 
Tiny pieces together,
She had really blown it 

this time,

She had definitely 
Irrevocably lost countless pieces...  

But this she 
Thought need not have mattered...


Before her stood two prospects,
Neither of which were destined
For her,
For hers was a far less favorable
Fortune.


Have you ever lived a life of false hope?
She had,


Have you ever believed that being good would be enough?
She had,


Have you ever thought life was a test, and patience will improve matters?
She had,


Have you ever been called so many names, cursed so many times, that you still thought there was hope for you?
She had,


Have you ever felt suicide was for the weak minded?
She did... 


And so instead,
She ripped open the already tender
Area of her chest,
Pulling the source of all pain out.

From where 
hope fluttered
positive thoughts radiated
feelings flickered
melancholy melodied..


She then 
Plucked a TNT 
Dynamite from her new friend Coyote
And jammed it into the organ,

*Explosion*


The deformed,
Stapled with
Thousands of staples
Was placed back in,
And continued the only
Purpose 
it could now fathom
carrying out.

Meanwhile,
She had performed surgery on herself
And survives to hide the tale!

Go on, try to define me baybee

X marks this spot baybeee,  
I ain't what u had in mind
Unlikened to that protagonist mind of urs,
Dead set on attributing me with stray concepts
Which have spun
Those precious pseudo ideas into a
Precious lil parcel of preconceptions,
Predicated on limited stereotypes!

It's the 21st century baybeee,
So how about u pull that ignorant flag
Out of ur @%$
And pick up ur iPad
And educate urself

Or let me give u the lesson...

I never aksed to be born,
Never aksed to be this color,
To be part of that tribe
Or that one,
I never aksed my great grandfather
Why he was a farmer,
Not literate,
I never aksed my grandfather
Why he didn't love my father enough,
Preferring to drown his sorrow
In merridom triggered by belonging
To a minority

I never had the opportunity to
Question my father
About what exactly it was that led him
to abandon his family,
Never aksed to be the only coloured
Bredrin in my school
To be thought I belonged,
If I imitated dem majorities!

And then I educated myself,
Looked at my history,
Identified the factors that led
to my being in this nation
of pale faces...

My nation was raped...
By dem past, old, wastemen,
dem capitalist ignoramuses
Dead set on determining a hierarchy
By any means necessary…

Preying on our mothers and sisters,
Exploiting our fathers and brothers,
No wonder my ancestry
Indicates a wretched suppression
Of colour,
We hated ourselves for it,
For what it meant for us,
And these past experiences
Are repressed so deep down that
The next generation hear 
Not even a murmur
Of the crimes committed against us.

After all,
God forbid there is a reversion:
Segregation,
Apartheid,
KKK,
Lynching…
And so
Our parents and grandparents
Feed us fables of belonging,
Pointing to our Birth Certificate
The Racial Discrimination laws
To the American President
But I say to them "Save it…"

I embrace this looming X 
Lingering over my head
As a result of my displacement
In history,
It’s not my fault
It’s not your fault
Shall we dig up the blameworthy corpses
And hold them accountable?
Nah...

Knowledge
U see,
Has taught me
It was key,
And I will define me as I please,
So don’t see my colour
And identify me as black,
white, brown, yellow...
See this X
And engage me in banter,
I will educate you
About who I am

I will be the storyteller
And tell you the tale of how...
Submission to a religion,
Undetermined by status,
Uncoloured by colour,
Untainted by ignorance, has
Enabled me to envision my
Past, present and
Future to a most realised of realizations…
To acceptance!
I belong to a majority baybee ;)

Yeah that's right,
I'm an ethnic majority
Put that section
In ur applications,
And while your at it, add this:

La illah ha illalah Muhammad ur rusulalala  [X]

Washing Line of Fancies

For my friend who does not understand my ramblings, try understanding this!

Today I hung

A bag full of my

Long left laundry

Of likes…

As they hung on the washing line,

For closer examination

With my gigantic magnifying glass

That facilitated the circumference

Of my beady eyes,
I noticed

A sequence had been created,

A fusion of fancies,

Organised by time and relevance

To the grander scheme of things.

My pupils inspected the once

Delightful damsels,

And I could not help wondering these wonderings…

For instance,

My teenage laundry was plentiful,

A combination of socks and gloves

That had made the prospect of institutional

Education amusing –

Ergo

A history A-Level lesson,

Laundry equivalent: a sock

(For confidentiality reasons we will refer to him as B)

Having watched A Walk to Remember,

The sentiments for a character was projected onto B.
Mr tardy was instructed to join my group,

And as he sat on the one vacant seat, beside me…

I began to quiver,

Subtlety was clearly yet to be mastered.

B feigned being interested in the argument

We were assigned to debate,

And the following week dropped the subject.

Completely unrelated to my spag-like reaction,

At least here’s hoping.

Forward >>

Seems I dabbled backwards,

Relapsing into falling into fancy with an imaginary…

I began indulging in the literary delight of a

Mr Potter’s uncle,

A exceedingly bad ass Sirius Black,

But then even he croaked.

Forward >>

Bad-ass became a prerequisite,

And thereafter an undetectable theme to

My laundry,

As I fell into obsessive fancy with a

Unattainable café owner’s son,

But the twist here...

I managed to somehow achieve

A proposition from the café owner instead,

And that's enough 
Divulgence about that.

Fast forward >>

As we left hurriedly for our flight,

We managed to suffer from food poisoning,

And very classily exited the aeroplane

On a throne – a stretcher ;)

Which led me to my next fancy.


It was round about this time 
I began to notice a different trend,
Though younger retarded days of
Losing body movements was
Now most curiously replaced...
Instead,
My heart began to beat to its own melody,
Pum-pum-pum-pum-pum-pum-purrumb


Pum-pum-pum-pum-pum-pum-purrumb 

As a male nurse entered,

In brown scrubs.

His beautiful hands made hidden veins

Appear not so hidden,

And there it was a new fancy,

Which became mutual

But of no real consequence,

Communication/ tribal problems.

So in my twenties,

There was a new pattern emerging

Clearly evident in my laundry,

As they now had become

More substantial in material…

A t-shirt,

A trouser,

A shirt,

A taubh,

Though there were fewer,

They were no longer

One-sided sentiments.

As I stood staring at each one,

I realised the ridiculousness

In these long paused lamentations.

And so deciding to embrace

My self-destructive nature...

I took advantage of the blazing hot sun,

And directed the magnifying glass

At the washing line of fancies…

As night drew in to snuggle up to the stars,
Once fancied ashes were all that remained
Upon the green snoozing grass,

And when a conveniently directed gust of wind appeared,

These too were gone.

No eulogy was required on this occasion,
For this execution 
Of frivolous fancies, 
Forced favourable
Maturity of oneself.

A bare washing line of no fancies hung,

And since night time had approached,
Concealing all those that hid in it,

She sneaked out of bed, 
And hung a cream ribbed hat.

Side Reel Negatives

Flash, flash, flash

Moments completely unhappy and filled

With sadness and loneliness

Are now judged

For their beauty,

And now the analysation commences…

The self evaluation

Of progress,

Or digression,

(Based on a moment captured in one specific frame)

I have become immersed

In this repertoire

These binary opposites

Make my current existence numb,

And so my past monochrome existence

Bleeds in to my present,

And this excruciating pain epitomizes,

Leaving my undetermined future appear of no real excitement

A bleak prospect,

Leading me to consider

Maybe that was as good as it got?

No this can’t be,

I remember that frame,

That time,

It does not represent my state of mind,

I couldn’t function independently,

And now I can,

Isn’t this improvement?

Acceptance of one’s dependence on oneself

And no other creation…

Isn’t this a refined realisation?

Not according to my Mother,

Who took this frame and passed it to my aunt,

Determined to ensure

A more socially approved future frame.