Friday, November 23, 2007

COMMON SENSE

Sweet.
Tart.
Vibrant.
It’s the state of my mind in the state of my world

I can’t keep at peace because somewhere
where some void in logic was beneath us
Common made Sense
And Sense made hast
and left.
Out and over there.
East and West
Leaving me in the middle where all eyes are suppose to see. (mind)

God use to talk to me
As clear as a Sunday sermon
But in Sense’s hast
Sunday sermons became Monday through Friday
Village voices
Trains, planes and automobile sounds
Information overload (hearing)
That became the organized noise of political ignorance
Static that kicked me down to the ground
Feeding upon sugar frosted spoonfuls of dirt and grim
Filling me into a diabetic delirium
So high
The pressure behind my eyes push folds that cover my eyes
That Common helped to secure. (sight)

But since Common defied Sense
Taking half my soul
Half my life
On knees with hands stretched out
blind.
Folded over,
that dark moving mist
touched the Earth softly like hot ice in summer.
Harden Black skin evolved to embrace the light
Until it felt warmth no more. (touch)

But this was no special effect

Hands begin to cover my wide and big nose,
Erasing another sense
Preventing me from smelling acid rain drenched shrubs and Bush
Tied down by blond headed girls calling my restraints their little Chainy
Held cold by that Nine Eleven winds that blew North uptown.
Three made two down to one. (smell)
The exact numbers of strikes without the proper tools to play hardball.
Sense.

In my blindness my mind’s eye work
And I know GOD, I am surrounded by Angels of servitude.
Angel’s without Will or Want
Because that was what they were created to do,
all they can ever do.
And with out Sense
Like GOD I can use them to answer, serve and deliver
Abuse and amuse those whom know they have no power
Those whom have no knowledge to control Angels.

And like that dark mist that moved
like the Nine Eleven winds
a modern tablet of commandments wrote across my mind
Hard and complete.

Control what people think and control what people do.”

The beginning of a new Doctrine
ending with stone words

And Angels whispered to me,
Age and Treachery will always out do Youth and Skill”.
Unto Man
Create minions
ending with stone words

and 1 stayed 1
deaf dumb and blind.
For living thus my crime.
Thus the state of my mind in the state of my world
I have become.

But I can still taste the
Sweet.
Tart.
Vibrant.
A balance.
A thought.
The life experience of Common plus Sense
And my Faith.

Common Sense by Shazza Nakim
Copyright © by Peace of Mind Publishings and with permission by Shazza Nakim

1 comment:

Punani Poet said...

{Bravo}
When I read your prose it brought back to mind this piece I had done awhile ago...


NO! No. no…

my human soul is not breaking

even if they’re telling us to walk straight and never deviate

even if they’re cracking bones and telling us it’s fate

even if they’re paving out the road

with the schools sold

and saying the weddings don’t mean much

and the jobs mean even less like education and such

and they keep us marching no matter the cost

so we can’t look for the love poems we’ve lost.

Because

if they take away the schools and the career paths

our non-stop expressway through

joysocializationninetofivemarriagekidsretirementdeath you do the math

WE become the third world,

struggling blood diamond fields swaying in the winds of war,

seducing strangers with words and lies that soar

just to see how far our virginity will score

they’ve raped Africa and Asia almost like porn

their children on our corners and their wares at our feet

fifteen cents for every child letting our Dictators have their way

in a factory for Barbie dolls that opens 5 AM each day

innocence is dying in the sweatshops of our greed

I’m wondering how none before had made America bleed.

I know some of us are angels with the sunlight on our backs

But some of America has hung our freedoms on the rack.

Where’s the call for revolution for the rights we thought we had?

Where’s the fight for speaking freely when this country gets me mad?

Where’s America of schoolrooms where the lesson are like songs?

Where’s America the beautiful, what the fuck is going on?

I dream of reading to a crowd that’s lined up out the door

just like Sonia and Nikki did on their cross-country tours.

I dream of sitting in cafés with the moonlight peaking in

seeing art and music as it shimmers on the skin,

talking about living

and of love and sighs and sin,

giving into freedom and giving into whims,

seeing all the world around me and loving its worth

the song of people…the beauty of the earth.

I dream of riding out to the sunset with Martin and his Queen

seeing all he really meant when he said I Have A Dream

let me reach out to my brothers and pull them back to me

let them spill that anger on me so that I can make them see

that none of them are failures, and none of them are lost

they’re just told to walk a straight line

at ALL or any cost

But

OUR human soul is curved

the proof is in our lining

we are not like the rest

OUR souls are intertwining