Monday, 23 December 2019
Tuesday, 4 June 2019
Black Moon
The black moon's out there All alone in the bright sky,
The tall buildings stand here With the silence on every tier,
The dark stars come out of the hide Walking straight into the streets,
Their esteem will have no audience but will be genesis
And the brightness is lost to shine of the pyre of materials.
In the sky up there painted with the black moon
My father will stop work in the mines
And my brother will start his real life My mother,
will no longer work for the houses
And my sister will be back with no marks of knife.
The mines will go dry of men And the whites go blind of slaves.
The arts will look up to my brother's hymn.
And the lust will not find my sisters.
So the days have come Of what we dreamt together.
While resting under the parked wagons
Of the road companies that sold litter
Now all of them are gone
The Rockefeller left all the world all alone With all his greed wasted as wine
That never saw the light and the dine
And this is our land Remember we shall build our mansions
On the bones of our fathers
Remember we shall farm our crops
On the soil soaked with blood of our brothers
Lets be the children of God
And share the love to them
The love they didn't give us
Lets be the fathers of good
And bring the end to this mayhem
For its carries no use and sense
Look at the sky
And black moon
Every night you pray
To the Gods of some reason.
Saturday, 17 November 2018
The Offer of Love
When I had this step after step
Walking across some streets in middle of this earth
Staining my shoes with blood and flesh
Of some men, women and children
The walk took me to the other side of walls
Full of sunshine and sea
Full of fresh air and sands
The waters liked me like a brother
And the sky took me into its arms like a mother
I wish I were alive to tell the story of this war
To my children and tell them how greed we were
For faiths that’s foolish and for oils that’s nothing
I wish I were with them playing on the marsh of Keywest and Louisiana
I wish I were a family back
Never being patriotic to hell and ruthless to pain
Never being apathetic to a son crying at his father dying
In my hands, in my eyes.
Now this sea and sunshine
And this air and sands
Took me where I belong
A memory of love and lost.
-Aroon Che