Warning: Tiger

Listen to that roar of stripes -
Black soot-mouthed
And out
For the blood of the traumatized
Lured into the safety
Of trigger-trapped places
Without warning.

Untamed

Be free, be wild, be pure -
Go wear out your genes:
There is no cure for this life.

Climb to the topmost leaves
Of the sweetest trees;
Come breathe your wishes on the wind.

Imagine your creations singing
In chocolate clouds. They echo
In infinite murmurs of imagination.

Be free, be wild, be pure -
Go live your dreams:
There is no one cure for this paradise.

Race to Erase Me

To the parlour we slink
With skin as thin as silk,
To become as dark as mink fur:
Gone out like an oil spill at midnight.

Tat me asian like a lemon going sour.
Tat me african like a raisin going sweet.
Tat me caucasian like good milk gone bad.
Tat me until blood runs deep with smudges.

From the pain parlour we stagger,
Skin riddled bloody and jagged,
We’re scarred illustrations, with a swagger:
Embracing kin, to be men without skin.

Soft canvas surfaces, colorful scabs,
Rush as one to throw light on our blindness.

My Privilege Lands

My right to life is a privileged one,
By law, I live a watched life,
From my white wrist up -
My state protects me from myself.
I suspect me of nothing: willingly,
I am in my own custody -
A flight risk no more.

Treat me inhuman, treat me unkind,
I degrade myself from my higher peace of mind.
I force myself to labor for me,
Unprotected downward, as any slave
Should spiral spreadeagled to be.

I convict me of crimes I only think
I didn’t do. I imprison my
Liberty in its rightful lofty place,
Then punish it until proven guilty.

Confession time: will I marry me and raise
My family of one as I have razed me
To the ground (in private
like I promised myself)?

I freely think so.
I practise the same.
I believe in my downfall.
I do not protest the gravity
Of my privilege and express myself
As I wish to express myself -
Equally, as is my right.

I treat me unfairly: I use examples
Of my gender, my race, my sexuality, my religion, my age.
I am my property: well-educated in self-denial,
As I jump from privilege to ground zero
My leather bomber jacket keeps me together:
I’m a karma crazy hero.

Curse

I've cursed my hand
With a cursive wand:
Seated, I make my angled stand -

All quick kung fu swirls;
The balancing of tai chi curls -
I even praise the elegance of girls.

I am in deepest love with curvy letters:
A slave chained to my slinkier betters;
I join each tattered letter with inky fetters -

My loopy words hold hardened hands;
Odd tourists lined up in strange lands,
They mock the local who misunderstands.

I tease more pleasure from your white pages.
Listen to your birds fly up out of broken cages.

Anchored

Unmoor me from this fleshy room

Built on bones
Held heavy by gravity

The strongest of pulls
Is always down through my knees

My hands palm each other in prayer
This mask of muscle is at peace

I leave the pinch of corners
Raise the ceiling and see you

I am unmoored

Written With a Mouth

I, too, resemble a worm in my words:
Segmenting my meaning into the green,
Digesting the page as I write my bites.

I am a larva with dreams of wings:
A thirst for nectar,
A hunger for a host of fresh pages.

I am a poet, here on these leaves:
I dare to publish my existence -
I am not the only articulate caterpillar.

I eat, consequently, I write.
From the edges hear my crunching roars:
I am mighty! I stand true! I believe!

I sculpted my holey poetry from behind:
You will find me gone, but not quietly.