CONSiDER YOURSELF iNVOLVED
2008

Darfur

heartbreak
is the back of the hand.
We know it well—
to understand the void aimed,
cocked back and loaded to hunt down
devils and demons, forgetting where 
strange wood of melancholy grows 
further than within ourselves.
Branches grow from out our ears with 
little irritating ants carrying poisons
wrapping the mind in lemon weaves 
convincing fingernails are
only in need of trimming.
Eyes disappear behind thickets and
forests drenched in glutton moons
worried of how they will fill themselves
with lost loves, not enough of nothing—
a security balanced on the tits of Jezebel?
malfunctioning mouths cease to move 
with roots deteriorating vocabulary 
re-teaching The People with toxic weapons
and phrases like, “ain’t my problem”,
“the world is a sad place”, “deal with it”,
“no comment”, “traditionally,
we do not respond”
—and shots are heard until language
is lost between womb-shaped heart—
Africa.
i hear you crying again!
tied up in the ghost of Idi Amin;
red dragons riding horseback 
have risen carrying cold plates of blood
filtering black skin with black skin into
the sands of Sudan and on the hairlines
of Chad, riding teeth of survival,
beckoning bones to escape bodies with 
thoughts of being better off with malnourished
scorpions, diseased camels, 
flanked into arms of brutality ragging 
against impoverished children.
500,000 dead!
500,000 hearts sewn back into the soil of
our Mother!
500,000 times the majority of souls
have died and resurrected unaware of 
the stars falling.
The stars are falling! Burning out over the 
hills of Al Fashir, Nyala, Juba, and Khartoum.
Janja march, flying in diagonal
patterns wielding riffles claiming the name 
of Omar Ali Bashir written on rice paper
clinging to the tip of lying barrels.
The Women!
The Women are sewing themselves shut!
The women are sewing themselves shut 
resisting the crowing cocks calling,
tightening eyes over smiles for 
promises of precious newborn cries.
Hear Me! i am man with no time to 
burry my Mother, my Father, my Daughter
my Wife!
Sons dream of fire shattering skulls
in spastic lightning bolts, hanging sisters 
with barbed wire emptying a Red
Nile of the Atbarah from their mouths.
It is happening again
It is happening again
It is happening again in Shamal, Janup, 
Gharb, Al Buhayrat, Warab,
Bahr al-Ghazal, and Kalma.
Peaceful skeletons travel, walking 
from homes with babes in hand and 
clothes stained with murder done by 
dead green forests calling themselves just
stomping through towns with the eyes of 
Lakwena shoved in their faces muttering 
For The Nation, for the nation.
It is happening again!
The People are walking with water in 
their pockets and taking refuge beneath 
beating trees!
It is happening again!
Mao Ze-Dong, Josef Stalin, Hideko Tojo,
Saddam Hussein, Hiroshima, Rwanda, 
Karabakh, The Holocaust, Herero, Uganda,
Haiti, Gaza, Congo, Myanmar,
Abraham’s America!
Ugandan’s lost children carry stones
to doorsteps of neighbors gunshot with 
the blood of new children, pleading,
screaming for it all to stop!
These trees have been trimmed—
they can be seen holding banners for 
protection and water.
Mothers beating their heads can be heard
for protection and water.
Who will lend it?
Who will give it?

Free Palestine | Power to the People | Where There Are People Together There Is Power & Liberty/ Protection & Water / May 23rd 2024

Pass Covington’s Ceasefire Resolution Now in Support of a Permanent and Lasting Ceasefire in an Unoccupied Palestinian State of Gaza

All The Way Covington,
Samuel T. Phillips