You never have the time,
to do anything of arts,
you speak it,
you wrote it,
you spoke it,
you mailed it,
though cannot,
take the time to art it…
You never have the time,
to do business,
which is our economy,
a thriving one in the midst,
yet you have the time,
to reconstruct the past,
remodel the present,
predict plays of the future,
may i ask you why are you,
so much of an artist,
without your own business,
or self-employed maybe with another,
maybe as the opposite,
to create better cohesion,
though not a publicity stunt,
nor fore the fame,
fore a culture of good pride,
a self-confident soul without shame,
you are who you are alone,
never share one moment of our time,
and you wonder why this cage bird,
unlocked his door from within,
to finally fly free rather than die,
cause you never cared about my cries,
did not shed one tear so in return,
while hovering in the winds talons tucked,
peeking through the nights eyes like golden dust,
while sounding off my alarm on the yard solo,
as no hens exist knowing i got all the food to myself,
still i have to watch my back called self-defense,
i have my soul now and do for my own culture,
from within without no name of color,
but all symbolism not understanding no female,
called my sister nor brother called the male,
i have understood them long enough,
to know there is truly no love among us,
as equals as that only exist within fantasies called,
lovey dovey tales around the corner celebrated once a year,
more during blind nights,
even more during high egotistical noons,
across the horizon here comes sunset,
a moment of meditation as silence,
captures anybody life which is air as breath,
i willed soul out of me mine innermind outer i crept,
and i came up once again as fresh caress beating out my chest,
treasured is me heart called rose sow can you hear that?
Or you unable to reap the fact that i am alive?
Tonight we will see as all lies die,
while i remain spirited in and of soul,
better than my last times miles high,
and deeper depths beyond an earthquake’s sigh.