cuz no one else has yet been able to

this was inspired by some painfully genuine and coming from the soul questions of a very special friend to me... and it surely reflects the metaphysics i'm struggling thru presently and for some time now. it's very much in line with the path of rejuvenation, purification, and self-discovery that i currently walk... well, just judge for yourselves

{my personal metaphysics from some broken moment in the past:}

painstakingly i'm witnessing my intermittent tired struggle to liberate my atrophied creativity
that has compulsively been shrunk, abused, reduced, and almost murdered
by my own vicious, self-destructive hand. repeatedly. put in captivity
that has been trapped and lost amidst the darkest folds of my tormented mind,
the self-induced and uselessly contrived turmoil
of my unreal, quasi-martyr, quasi-warrior, yet stray, spirit.

and day in / night out i fall, i rise, i strive to clear it…
to resurrect, maintain, retain my creativity
so it could serve as my intra-curricular spiritual activity;
so it could save my soul;
so that the soul, in turn, could save the body

so i, in turn, could save the world…
so i could love and make some people happy…
or two…
or one at very least--
-- myself, that is.
cuz no one else has yet been able to

global war on the people of color

there can never be enough mourning
for the innocent souls swept away by parasitic colonialist greed and cruelty;
there can never be enough sorrow
for the ones who, by force, died
without ever wanting to fight

there never seems to be enough money
to fill up the pockets and swiss bank accounts of the ruling masters;
there never seems to be enough blood
spilled in preventable proxy wars and man-made “natural disasters”

there can never be enough rage
to express that we are fed up, that this is not right;
there can never be enough poems
about the deranging pain and bleeding in our heart
when we see the injustices and feel that we’re losing the fight

there can never be enough remembrance and tribute
paid to those who gave their lives
so we could live

there can never be enough hope
that people will awaken and start kissing and dancing,
instead of wanting, hating, consuming and fabricating,
there is no more hope in me—there. is. no. hope!

there doesn’t seem to be enough solidarity
that we can garner to resist this dehumanizing barbarity;
there doesn’t seem to be any limit
to the humanity’s endless inhumanity

let’s see… how many souls will have to die today
to fuel your SUV? To let you have your little yearly vacation,
so you could go and rob, co-opt and objectify another culture
in a third-world nation?


[can we realize and remember that there's only one kind of terrorism we should be at war with: that of white supremacy and insatiable imperialism?!]

no, i ain't cryin'

i've been there for you
with so much love for you, and care,
that would suffice for the whole world
to share...

and what you chose to do with me?
to take, manipulate, to push and pull,
to bounce around, to use, abuse,
to wrap around your finger,
to shit on, spit on, discount, neglect and accuse

to make me a nervous wreck,
to make me feel like a paranoid fool,
to ridicule my hurt feelings and insecurities
arising from your same old,
same old devious lies and chicken-shit immaturities

to cheat, deceive and terrorize my soul,
to stump on, wipe your feet on, and move on

to play me like a cheap toy:
take my heart apart like a meccano set,
scatter the pieces around,
and throw away, just like a spoiled boy

a naïve silly sensitive femme
with poppy eyes ever adoring you,
my love and admiration you found not enough for you
being honest and respecting my dignity you found beneath you

my nurturing ancestors' spirits must have gotten pretty damn tired
of giving me hints,
of trying to get me to see
that i'm nothing to you but a public trophy and entertainment,
that i deserve a better arrangement,
that i should be in a genuine relationship,
wherein the beauty of my heart and soul would be recognized and cherished,
wherein i would receive as much passion as i give and merit,
and wherein words mean actions and actions mean LOVE

but bewildered by my dumbest love for you
i refused to acknowledge this ugly-ass pink elephant,
choosing to see what I wanted to see,
believing your fairy-tales just to avoid the pain of losing YOU,
this heavenly and flawless creature,
which i created in my imagination
thinking that it was your true self,
of which you really ARE the opposite.
and all your nonsensical excuses
made more than perfect sense to me
because I loved you

I did.

until now, when i've had too much
when the cords of my spiritual choir
became all too sonorous for me to tune out,
when i have no more love to give
no more trust to thrust
no more energy to explain my pain
no more desire to wait for you to change
no more patience to stretch
no more ears to hear your pathetic lies
no more low self-esteem telling me,
"for you, this is good enough"
no more time or ripeness or wetness for you
to keep me laying in the bed alone
untouched, undesired, rejected yet wanted to be kept by you...
just in case, i guess. just in case.

no, i ain't gonna take it no more
your "pretty" smile isn't worth it,
you're not worth it,
you don't deserve ME

i'll do the right thing this time
which is to let go, to forget,
to borrow some insouciance and walk away, lighting a cigarette.
you may be a lustrous prize
but one i don't want to be mine,
cuz the pain that comes with it
isn't worth all that superficial shine

i just hope i can still find
all the pieces of my heart that's been shattered too small,
and scattered too wide

and i hope a pure and honest soul
will help me put them back together
into a beautiful and love-ful muscle
that's made to love and not to suffer,
and let it heal,
this broken heart...
so it could fall in love again
and put this shit behind.

no, i ain't cryin'
it's just that a huge chunk of truth
that can no longer be ignored
stuck in my eyes,
and opened them so wide
that i'm getting blinded by the light
seeing how things are, as if for the first time...
that's what's making my eyes tear and my fingers rhyme

my act of living IS my activism

[visual art by favianna at favianna.com]

i am a walking mini-revolution
not willing to submit to your zombifying psychological contusion.
i breathe activism
i live activism
actively a colored woman
proactively lesbian
retroactively muslim and uigur
have been, and always will be unamerican.
with every gasp of air
exhaling my of-color womanism,
notwithstanding your baseless criticism.

my act of living is a revolution.
no, i don’t flaunt my queer identity in your face
nor do i sport rainbow-ful décor in my house or my attire
but i’ll be damn sure to correct your closed-minded
heteronormative assumptions of who i must be,

and i’ll be damn sure to call you out on your xenophobic shit
that you won’t even try to hide when,
as the first word of imperfect english
comes out of my immigrant, stranger-to-the-pledge-of-allegiance, mouth,
you will already have formed your opinion about who i must be,

and i’ll be damn sure to detect the rapid change
in your tone and attitude
as soon as i say my family is muslim,

and i’ll be damn sure to tell you to go
and learn an indigenous tongue as soon as you demand
that i speak nothing less than impeccable american english
cuz “i’m on the american land now”.

and i’ll be much too quick to detect the passive-aggressive
racism in your obsessive-compulsive complimenting
to my exotic look, black eyebrows and ambiguous, “non-ugly” accent,
that you just can’t seem to be able to contain
behind a shut, foul mouth.

yes, because i’m much too quick to sense
when you’re about to offend me, or any of my people,
even before you can change your mind,
or unsay it.

but I AM a mini-revolution
and i ain’t gonna tolerate your
intentional “i didn’t mean to say that!” faked confusion
because i no longer internalize your oppression
that you want me to make my own,
and be a slave of.

i am a tiny, but bomb-ass, mini-revolution
because i recognize your shit and your sneaky ways
of carrying on with your sadistic dehumanization
for the purposes of further domination;
because i don’t believe that
you are “saving” me by adopting my children,
because i don’t think that you are “enlightening” me
by studying and telling me my history,
and how i wouldn’t have survived without you.

because i say it’s bullshit when you tell me
that i can’t have children with my wife because she is also a woman
since neither of us has THE irreplaceable penis;
and that i am morally degraded for calling her a wife
since god "himself" must have told you that
the marriage is only between one man and one woman.

i am a speciously submissive, self-detonating mini-revolution
because i choose not to self-oppress,
because i don’t want my people to self-oppress and digress
to your greatest pleasure and benefit…
no! i see, i hear, i know, i share,
and i rebel against your shit.

no, i don’t walk around with “save the dogs in korea” posters,
don’t wear hipster t-shirts with bush’s head in the toilet
my justice and activism are within me,
and with my heart i will bring the change that’s needed.

i demand my presumption of innocence
until i am found guilty.
but you see, you can’t really find me guilty
because your justice IS NOT my justice
and, therefore, is. not. the. universal. justice.

"God Bless America"

[the following piece is an example of the artistic expression that i find necessary in order to vocalize and share my pain and aggravation caused by the injustices and oppressions of the world, and to find ways to heal and keep goin', knowing that i'm not alone and that i have a tremendous support of my community]

"God Bless America"
[or 'Fuck The Rest Of The World']

i dreamt i was a skyscraper
playing tag with birds and clouds
standing tall and invincible in my serenity and determination
looking down with sorrow on this ant civilization
drowning in its pitiful self-imposed damnation

i stood beyond your human lust and passion
beyond your greed, your infatuation with high fashion
i knew the answers to your sufferings and self-inflicted frustrations
but, alas, with no way of their communication
and no hope for human reconciliation

i stood beyond religions and sexual orientations
beyond your artificial borders and oil-motivated "liberations""
i stood tall, pensive and beautiful..
condemning misogyny, patriarchy, and the terrorist rule of the Aryan Nation

but my heart started aching from human failure of peaceful coexistence
fatigued and disappointed by the futility of superficial talks of resistance
wounded by your blindness, apathy and selfish capitalization
raped by your ignorance, insatiability and compulsive appropriation

in vain, i strove to achieve a state of deep meditation
in vain, i strove to free myself from my internalized oppression

even in my dream i was numb in anticipation
to be stricken by planes hijacked by the american theocracy
elaborately masked under the pretext of spreading "secular democracy"

making a mockery of the notion of my equality
in the land founded on the principles of murder, exploitation, and frivolity
where the promise of my freedom is a legalized hypocrisy
but i guess that's what you get in a tyrannical "democracy"

where witnessing human life devaluation is entertainment
where only diamonds and red carpets bring people contentment
where my human rights are turned into tools for political battles
where whether i'm starving or dying does not really matter

even in my dream i was waiting to be shattered
by the imminent, barbaric, unjustified crusades of aggression
against me, against my sisters and brothers in the un-christian,
un-capitalist, un-imperialist, un-First-World nations

waiting to be reminded of my identity
that is not christian
not male
not straight
not a native english-speaking entity
not white...
therefore, whatever i do - i'l never do right

even my dreams can no longer serve as means of capitulation
even my dreams leave me no solace or consolation
i wished to prevent this nightmare
and recapture that feeling of serenity and determination
that i had
when i just started looking down on this ant civilization

i wished not to be partaking in its atrocious self-mutilation
i wished not to think about the commonplace human-on-human violence
i wished to regain that naïve patience and benevolence
that i had
when i just started looking down on this ant civilization

but vicious awakening brought me back to our sinister daily degradation...

i see that my only solution is a radical revolution
to free myself and my people from this
-dehumanizing
-desensitizing
-objectifying
-prejudiced
-heart-wrenching
-life-taking
-capital-worshipping
irreversible MORAL POLLUTION...

i say i need me a revolution!

here's another medium of self-expression that i subconsciously use to liberate myself from a lot of internalized '-sms' and '-phobias' [homophobia especially], to express my love for women, and to deal with the prejudice around me... [well, that's how i interpret my desire to draw women]

and fuck those who tell me that adoring and loving women and their beautiful bodies in a sexual way is sinful of me!

--you can click on images to see them in full size--

albeit without you

what? you didn't think i have a voice?
you thought you'd always make MY choice?

yes, i can rhyme! and i can speak!
my life no longer seems so bleak

albeit without you...

--------------------------------------------------------

these shattered dreams,
these broken promises...
fuck it -
no more are we subject to each other's analyses

--------------------------------------------------------

submissiveness vs. domination
what a desctructive abomination

you are the same sex as me... AND I LOVE YOU

i love laying sweaty and naked
in our metal, S&M-inspired and -inspiring
humongous-ass lesbian bed with you
my wife
my dykie lover, my life
my partner, one and only
my rough and sexy butch
my magical and gentle woman
supporter, spouse, my closest friend
my soul-mate, my companion in the end

nothing could feel better, believe me
on this lazy saturday morning
or day
or evening...

i'm absorbing your love that’s permeating through your pores
and landing on my skin to guard and hold me till i die
you were sent to me by angels i am sure
babe, sometimes i can't believe my own happiness - i cry

we lay for hours and talk, still never get enough
and talk about our babies and what we’ll do when we will win the lotto
we talk about opening free schools for poor kids (like us)
and share our inspirations and our visions of successful struggles

YOU showed me what love is: you stormed into my life
and all my past - my “crushes”, my “affairs” – disappeared
you took me by the hand and we have levitated since
i am biased, so i say it’s only possible when queer

YOU make me disappear in your loving arms
i melt under your kisses, they're so fresh; your eyes, so bright
how can they say that this is wrong, unnatural and farce?
how dare they label this "abnormal", when it feels so right!!!

this sexual frustration
is creating unnecessary deprivation
resulting in negative self-esteemation
and our brutal mutual mind-mutilation

when did we take an oath of abstinence and purification?
where the hell is your praised "sexual liberation"?