The Neverthere

You invoke ghosts so casually.

Terrible soul eating creatures:

from the very centre of your imagination.

Creatures carved from every thing I never was.

Be careful, before they drag you away,

to even places I can't reach.

A place where you'd go to live,

made entirely of imagination.

Where there isn't even a smidge of space,

for someone who disappointed you,

by committing the crime of existing,

outside of your expectations.

-o0o-

Poison

You drink it willingly,
because it tastes so good.
This is bigotry.
You drink it,
and everyone is poisoned.
You keep saying how good it is,
how others just don't understand.
But they're dead.
You've killed them.

To Heal with Hate

You that peddle flesh as freight!

Filleted, sliced, and stuffed with hate!

Will corpses rise and live again?

Bewitched by bigotry and "amen"?

Are wounds healed and bones unbroken,

by skin that's white or polished token?

Are children saved from evil here,

by invoking evil there?

-shanked off the rotisserie spear

to be otherwise laid bare?

You can't invoke your children's blood,
to justify your acts of hate.
You can't use their ashes to justify,
your white supremacist state.
You are the violent hand that cuts,
the whips that beat, the clubs that break.
You can't invoke your violence here,
and say it was for your children's sake.
You drove the wheel that brought us here.
You fanned the flames that stoke a war.
What battle could you possibly wage,
to raise such "peace" that you fight for?

-o0o-

CW: Rape of children, Racism

This was inspired by this hateful blog written by some racist moron using the bodies of raped children to justify her racism:

and my response:

To Summon the Demon

Oh, it's simple.

The incantation to bring the creature,

immune to prayer, crucifix, or preacher,

...or fire.

That spirit of desire encased in flesh:

fat, juicy, hungry for more.

Is that what you're looking for?

Or after years of beatings,

years of being shamed,

shaped by you, you found that

the thing could not be tamed?

And you named it Anathema,

all because you couldn't handle,

kicked it out with bell, book, and candle,

but it's such a pity that it should snap at you

how cruel that thing should be to bite,

at the hand that feeds the dog's spite.

And you with careless words,

haphazard bigotry, casual hate,

for the next eight hours straight,

find yourself in the shadow,

as it watches you sleep,

your bedside to keep.

And if perchance you should not wake,

this animal comes, your soul to take.

In all things I wish you this one certainty:

know this, cretin, in all you do,

when you spend hatred like currency,

I see you.
I see you.

-o0o-

Cochineal

we've tried 

for so long

to scrub the queer from us

like trying to scrub dye from a cloth

only to rub it in 

deeper

so much 

that our hands bleed

that our nails are impregnated

dye seeping into our cuticles

running into the creases of our knuckles

and the folds of our hands

so much 

that even the fake fortune teller

can see that queer runs deep 

into our future

through our veins

so whether we paint it on

or wash it off

we are queer

no cure to absolve us

no gods to forgive us

no laws to ban us

we've run into the veins of society

reminding it

that we are like Cochineal

crush us

and we'll just make more colour

we're a part of the cloth now

we are the clothes you wear

the curtains you drape

the bed sheets you fuck on

the upholstery of your car

we're not adjacent

we're intrinsic

and no bigot can undo that

spill our blood

and you will only be reminded of your own

-o0o-

Insisting Existence

you had better stomp your feet hard

and shout

don't forget to shout

clap your hands

shake your clothes

so the zipper clatters

and the coins in your pocket jingle

made a noise

and let them know

"I exist"

insist

and when they ignore you, persist

you will feel like a fool

and they will bank on that

you will feel hurt

and they will blame you

you will cry out

and they will cry blue murder back at you

never let them tell you

that you don't matter

that you don't exist

never let them tell you

that you have no value

when they bask in the sun

visible and accepted

validated by televisions

while we remain hidden

walled up behind their bigotry

never give up

never give in

don't let them stop you

don't let them win

they'll hurt you, bend you,

break you, make you twist

shatter your ankle

your neck and your wrist

but never stop shouting

"I am here! I exist!"

-o0o-

Three Poems (Unseen Hurt, Tools Of The Trade, New Year's Hope)

Recorded more audio which you can listen to HERE. I'm hoping to do more of these soon. Keep an eye and ear out.

Have a wonderful day.

Charl

-o0o-

Weathered

scratch the itch

gouge it out

hammer, file

rub and rout

wear and wipe

tear and break

bite and bend

until bones ache

weather down

the bigot block

till nothing's left

but grit and rock

-o0o-

I See You

to the bigot behind veiled words

I see you

with your clandestine claptrappery

working your hatred like finery
woven words to misdirect
a fine thread

behind the curtains

behind smart words

behind semantic bullshit
tugging at my skin
like stitches coming undone
you think it's a small pull
but I feel it burning

I see you
I see you

I see you

I know you for what you are

-o0o-

Unseen Hurt

but that's the point

when they hit you

they make sure it's unseen

so their hands are clean

so they can tell themselves

they're not bad people

all church and steeple

and they can smile into their gods' faces

and walk on holy places

and pretend

turning a blind eye

because what you did

or what your friends did

happened in dark allies

or behind oblivious privilege

where you can claim

you did nothing

faux civility that makes

for plausible deniability

of course you can't see

it's natural that you'd miss it

and how can't I blame you

when you're so complicit

-o0o-

Biscuit's Got a Blade

Listen biscuit,

don't stab me and cry,

and tell me how non-violent you are.

Let those tears dry.

Wearing them like innocence.

Don't turn around now,

screaming at me,

as if I've done you wrong,

or limited your rights,

with your eyes drooped long,

like a veil to your own funeral,

as if I'm limiting your rights.

Don't pretend that I don't see you,

clearly,

for what you are,

with your knife covered in my blood.

And don't accuse me of robbery,

when I try to take your knife away,

You're not the victim here.

In the same way,

you don't get to say,

when you hop on your privilege,

and tell me it's okay,

when you use bigotry and hatred,

and turn around and say,

"But I'm not a bigot!"

It doesn't work that way.

-o0o-

Abelief

no gods or devils here, ma'am

no spells or powers, sir

just this

small-town reality's kiss

spilled blood and coffee

pain and tears

both

crystal on my eyes

no justice but what we make

no meaning but what we take

no purpose but that we break

we made this world in our image

cruel and hateful

like the gods we dreamt up

I cannot tell you what I believe

because I don't believe in anything

but I can tell you what I don't believe

and much of it comes from there

that place

the pit of human hatred

that teaches us that

men over women

white people over people of colour

breeders over queers

cis over trans

and funny how all your books

all your gods

all your dogma starts there too

cruel and vindictive

dogs requiring the collars of modernity

no wonder god and dog are the same words

rabid monsters untamed and wild

ripping the throats out of the innocent

or puppies trained to piss outdoors

where we don't have to worry about it

and for what it's worth

I love my dogs more than your gods

they've actually given me love

they were there for me when I bled

they were there for me when I was beaten

they were there for me when I cried

and your gods supplied the blows and cuts

fortified the hands of the men who hurt me

with scripture and pulpit

so, no

I don't believe

no gods or devils here, ma'am

we're all sold out

-o0o-

I'm not your fucking sychopant

I'm not your fucking sychopant

I don't owe you my smile

a clock tuned to your dial

when you fuck up

I don't owe you a polite wink

and affirm everything you think

I don't owe you my silence

this isn't anything new

when you fuck up

don't expect me to praise you

when you hurt people

don't expect me to assuage your guilt

as if I'm a cog to the ego you built

when you're an arsehole

I don't owe you my approval

But fuck with me

and you'll earn your instant removal

you've known this all along

but you act as if I've surprised you

as if everything I've said 

is something wholly new

#BeBetter

-o0o-

#BeBetter is the summer time motto of a friend of mine, Dr. T.J. Tallie. I take great joy in pilfering his hashtag.

hatred tonight

you could snap the air in two, that fragile film tonight
like water frozen, on every heart, thin as ice
as hatred was poured into the very world
the bigots infesting everything like mice
you could try to stand up and fight
but you'd have to think twice
knowing what it might cost you
taking on that same ignorant vice
it pours from hateful mouths
it bites stone cold, sharp jaws
that comes from the fool and bigot
flexing proud with its fisted claws
with hard hearted hounds hunting
to crush us under heavy paws
and sigh away our freedoms
with cruel and hateful laws
the lithesome, sleek 'splainers
come to set the stage
circling like vultures
to feed of our rage
a cold insult to us
weight to our age
another screw
another page
damage done
blood let
heart broken
bones set
carry on
still, yet
i will not die
a costly bet

-o0o-