The bleeding has no bias
From the Congo to Dallas
The days of waiting, the Fever-soar
The African corpses were out
Of view, from the World’s eyes
If a sneeze can defile
Ebola can ride airplanes
Traverse Seas, all through
Your plastic gloves, your pores
Contagious still with death
Your fear may taste the curse
A thousand dead more, a common ache
The bleeding has no bias
Jesus will not bring you back from the Dead
We have to walk through Hell alone
They say, I have no more words
The bleeding has no bias
No funding, or protocol that works
The virus rages on, splitting old scars
Of what it means to be from the
Old continent, of what it means to be black
And the coughing up of more blood
Where paranoia and fear are conditions
As common as kindness and hospitality here
The panic of believing a silent enemy
Can catch you without you knowing
These are the days of waiting
These are when the numbers soar.
Ebola then turns the insides of its host into jelly: you begin to vomit black junk which is basically your dissolved liver and internal organs.”
― Andrew Cormier
Fear too is an epidemic, it stretches out like
An incubation period for a kind of doom
Population control, whispered a silent elite
Who engineer our wallets, our GMO food, our futures
Ebola was a convenient way, of making us fear
Who we once were again, black as a Nigerian
We died alone in deathbeds, isolated plastic containers
For who we once were, our organs giving out
Infection was a spider hand, MSM gave us
False positives, but could the main-stream-media
Be trusted any longer? Wasn’t this just a matter
Of time, an algorithm set loose upon the billions?
Fear is that place, where people go in adversity
It’s hypnotic like an audience at a concert
It’s contagious how the will for self-preservation can spread
Fight of flee, but where to run, out of the cities?
The new normal is a kind of paranoia
While we watch the situation very closely
Every hour there is underground news about
Another case in another country, Ebola isn’t
Your grandmother that only likes good climates
She’s an engineered hypothesis of how mobility
Causes any true pandemic to become a flamboyant outbreak
The comet that signals black plagues has been seen
Fear too is a weapon, when you can’t stop the world
Because it’s too costly to do so, and you can’t
Tell the world not to fly because we’re too free
We left Africa a long time ago, but who among us
Would stand 20 meters from their open graves?
1.Guinea
2.Liberia
3.Sierra Leone
4.Nigeria
5.Benin
6. (Even as I wrote this) Senegal and Ghana likely have cases too now.
August 10th:
People are being tested in the following places. [not confirmed cases]
1. Bucharest (Romania)
2. Hong Kong(Hong Kong)
3. Chennai (India)
4. Brampton (Canada) patient was Negative for Ebola.
5. Hamburg (Germany)
Embrace your darkness, for there
Is always something to learn
Look deep within your own heart
We are the most brilliant teachers
Of ourselves, and what kind of pupils?
We are two personalities then
One lives and the other watches
We are both male and female
Like two chemical substances
If both are bonded & react, how do they transform?
Let the light in and accept the darkness
Love thy defects until they are virtues
Sharpen thy virtues until they dissolve
Your own recipe for living just needs
Some seasoning, so create yourself anew
Liberate the hypothesis on which you base your life
Until you find a freedom to die and be born again
The pendulum of pain teaches of a secret order
I am not what happened to me
I am therefore, what I choose to become;
You are what you do, not what you say you’ll do.
As a result of being confirmed
As unable to breathe or think
Confined in the dark, my friends
That is how I know I am dead –
Only occasionally is my heart now moved
By the plight of mortals and
The weight, of their mischievous mortality
They can’t reconcile themselves
To their condition, since their
lives are so full of change
They raise their heads clumsily
Like infants, only to live with a limp
Fearing the inevitable, I was once
Like light, adjusting myself
In the crypt of empty space
As a result of being, after the symphony
As unable to hear the empty music
Confined in the light, my friends
That is how I know I am yet alive –
I will take every occasion thus
To let my heart be moved
By the awkward wonders here,
And the stems of silence like levels
Of the hotel of flesh, where the carpet
Of my biology is somehow too soft.
I bring three things for an impossible meeting
To the workshop of your mind
Reproduced like old art books
On the coffee table never opened
Strength, skill and beauty
Above all, the reminder of human spirit
The easy gait of a lifetime of learning
I bring to you the philosophy of self-expression
The movement of harmony
In lost words, triumphant until the end of the world
Ready-made like language, and alien
As the moment of the surprise of enchantment
I bring three things for an impossible meeting
The shimmering of deftness in the brain
Reproduced like ancient books
In the library in an age where we no long read
Strength, skill and beauty, above all strength
The will to create a new world at every meeting
With the previous construct of reality.
In Night travel I go back to verse
The poesy behind sleep
at the root of subconscious origins
the purest motion of evolution
some constancy of sharing
That beats in my chest
when I was just a fish –
In Night travel I go back to the word
The poesy behind rapture
at the root of superconscient bliss
with starry questions as a single key
To sunlight infinity, there I will beg
The one voice to spread through
all creatures until I feel her eyes
staring back at me from all sides
that sleep might answer, all the sky’s
lovely shadows and queries:
By Night I travel back to the dawn.
If your eyes were not the
color of lightning, of a day full
of loving hope, this world of
faces, work, play, politics
If you were not the chief grace
of my little years, amber weeks
golden months, clogged with
moments of clasping anticipation
I would have gone mad long ago –
If, my dearest, you had not come
into my life like sand, trees, rain
everything is so alive that is to
live with you, eat with you, move with you
if our arms, legs, noses did not touch
each night in our beloved sleep
your life and my life would not
be so good, so happy, and now
I can see everything that lives
and loves in you, so easily, held-in
as the water that shatters the
restless rock; the breeze that caresses
the most ancient fires, you were there
and we drop into the future in
blue salt, falling in sea-circles of
another world, of permanent tenderness.
Good night, because we must
Say how to elude strife is to sleep
Father! They won’t tell me
What the light knows
That I shall never know –
Good night, I fumble at my spirit
As players at the chords & keys
Before they drop full of music
Before the end of poetry
Good night, prepare your possessions
You will not need them beyond here
Father! They won’t tell me
Why your breath is so timid today
What the light knows
That we shall never know –
Good night, we are dealing
With Imperial thunderbolts
With a fate that scalps my naked soul
The stars above my head
And my feet pointed to the sea
Good night, because we must
Not know what to do next
Father! In our hour of doom
All evenings steal our purple flight
Reasons profound and Daffodils
Good night – merit and fear qualifies
Humanity, to my beloved need
That never met a more sufficient proof
Than saying good night,
With but itself to rest upon.
Who is the pictured form, the body that lasts
That repeats its masks, its lusts
Biology, like scattered threads of clay
That breeds and seeks to win
Across the veils of ecstasy
Who is behind the sense, across immortality
The youth derived from evolution’s soul –
That fetches the wine from the beyond
Who is the pictured form,
The female that lures, the male that pushes on –
That tie the skin of opposites
With head and loin, heart and care
The songs of the organics, the original ancestors.
You are not your mind
You do not belong to your body
Move in freedom and do that
Which brings you total freedom
Each moment give in to the new
Drop the past, the anxiety
That accumulate with restriction
Unlearn the past, so that you may
Learn to die in living a bit further
You are not your mind
You do not belong to your body
You are a soul totally alive
Throbbing, pulsating, streaming
A quantum intelligence beyond
The brain, society, species, of your experience
You are a spiritual organ in a network
Let your ambitions and attachments go
For power, prestige, desire, money
Will not lead you to the pure freedom
Meditation exists when you listen to silence.
I am a living acre without design
an apparent order of action in anonymity
this wind and sun are my neighbors here
i yet attain a shadow or of a squirrel
a silent truce with general nature
and the idea of a plan, severely retarded further
by the poignant excess of luxuries to the few –
I am a living care of temporary possession
an apparent cause of love in union
this landscape and tree are my playmates here
i yet attain a shadow or an art of flower
a silent truce with universal chance
it might be famine all around, but we still
live from smile to smile, by happiness
and small wonders fed, the years
i have been without a home.
Oh do not leave, for I shall hate
All women so, when thou art gone
That I have celebrated women
(In the best & worst of times)
For the world’s soul signs its name
In my heart with the breath of devotion
To human and diviner things
Oh love is a strange fever in organics
That burns with a knowledge of possession
Giving the fire of meaning in attachment
Though I have sought to flee attachments
I have found that a good mate is
A kind of death to the world, and all other women
Such being the case, I am enslaved by
A world full of women, and their care
With only cause to essay to please them
That is the true fever from which I suffer
Gladly or nobly, I do not know
So shall burn this world, and none have wit
That such roles as man and woman
Were given to us, for breeding and other cares.
The blog is dedicated to the people which care about their goals, dreams , actions including the ones that have paused , slow down or even stopped moving forward.
Wuji Seshat 