THE FLEA MARKET

Brew in an African pot of ignorance, my best feigned reaction is intolerance. In a matrix filled with imitators and sins judged by duplicators I tire at the feet of originators. Words of a preaching wanderer are lost in the actions of a believing conqueror. For my dreams require a skill to ascend this hill but sorrow and ill prescribe the pill while my might and will foot the bill. Of tunes strung from my heart consumed and abandoned flat of dead eyes proclaiming a story, an existence devoid of glory Of such and such And very much more of much

I dream a dream in which I dream of peace and happiness, chatter and laughter. Of a time of joy where greetings are hugs and smiles are our currency. Where strangers are friends and friends family. But I awake to the echo of silence and memories of grandeur. I say AKWAABA Welcome I say Welcome to my jungle where pain is your pay and happiness a dream, where teeth are ground to soothe the ill and screams abound like the air we breath. Where night is day and day a mirage, tears quench the thirst and sleep tames hunger Welcome to my jungle Welcome to my home Welcome to Africa.

as I wait for my curses to be broken, I feast with my demons and watch my egos seethe with envy my fall from grace is halted as the ghouls within me battle for supremacy and scar the fields, draining them of the need for deeds. at the climax, I twist and turn hoping to escape my end, to establish symmetry in this skewed reality and console the witches weeping at my feet giving each a reason to hate and yet a need to love

marching through the rain my persuasions are the only shelter from the pain exertions of a tormented soul a life sacrificed,hung on a pole time spent lecturing a specter i become invisible to the coming inspector guilty as charged i do detest those in charge matching looks and character the balance of power I do fracture a willing Isaac to the cause though littered with flaws my opinions might demand a pause a detour to a lost paradise forty days to our promised land a corrupted mirage of Nirvana to days wasted on a flickering tube to fingers fitter than ourselves to dreams aborted on a couch and aroused discussions of failures to incepted protests and choreographed illusions of peace to order born of chaos

laying siege to the mental fortress i realize my role in this travesty a conscript for hire, a believer in ice and fire, i rally for spiritual diffusion yet invoke cultural infusion. these symbols are symptoms to our illness a foreboding of our emotional frailness the dying illumination in the murky waters. no indoctrination can question my theology for the abbacy rules with no apology - Deuteronomy prodded with fear, we comply like animals - zoology minds turned to mush, dreams are silenced with a shush bullied by an eternal enigma we find solace in delta, phi and zigma and betray our trust in the picture but beware my friends for the freedom we seek only frees doom.