Conceived in the middle of falling rockets!
I came to this world as the manifestation of my mother’s conspiracy to play god!
To summon hope in a hopeless world!
The aberration!
White haired and heavy!
Cut out of her, leaving a mark for ever!
The bastard son!
Made of gold and dirt.
Destined to shine!
With a single rose petal,
beating desperately in my chest!
My veins pumping feathers!
And a butterfly flapping its wings
in the glass jar of my stomach!
The source of shame!
Disdained and bitter!
I tore off my wings…
Fury in my eyes!
I took an ember
from their holy fire
and jumped the clouds!
I watched as the tip crushed onto the line…
a screech!
Denying them,
their eternal!
“the line ends here! now what?”
And I walked away!
Becoming the one without roots!
without a place
without a name
without a face!
Crouching next to all the lost animals,
in the corner of this human forest.
as florescent lights
leak through the plastic leaves
onto the asphalt floor!
cold and impersonal, blind,
wielding its branches like swords
and if you get caught in their path, its just bad luck, sister!
but here we are…
tore off our leashes,
devoid of divine demands,
or expectations to excel,
all free… to die unnoticed!
“now what?”
Every night we gather around our small fire,
of all the stolen embers…
Every night we listen to the ruffle of feathers in our veins…
Every night we sob and embrace!
No!
No, I know you wouldn’t…
You feed the monsters…
Walking your streets with thousand rabid eyes.
“But they keep it orderly” you say
to the sound of their boots on the ground.
They take one of us here and there…
but you wouldn’t… I mean, why would you?
The beautiful crow friend on my shoulder looks at me with her worried eyes…
We hold on to each other as we sit in the dark, in a circle with all the other wild beings you have forgotten about,
wrapping my knees in my arms, rocking my back to the beat of my fears -fears old as weather-,
You keep your head down
You smile at their grinding teeth
You keep quiet!
And a heavy wind blows through my hair
Bad omen!
With their dark uniforms and stern looks…
They walk among you
In your shopping mall.
A modern exhibition.
The title; “suffering of the others!”
They pass right by you, With all those dangling things
Shiny and bright
Now! machine guns hanging on their chests!
And you still wouldn’t…
I comfort the scared butterflies in my pockets with my trembling hands,
Watching the clouds gather in the red sky…
Bringing smell of blood!
But you keep feeding the monsters
Thinking its for your safety
From my kind that is
From my savage eyes
From my tribal ways
From my unenlightened heart
From my confrontational mouth!
You won’t admit it… but you know what they are for…
Oh, I wish you would at least say it!
To say it with their sirens’ light on your soft skin…
To say it when you pay others to paint the hills with my people’s blood, half way around the world!
To say it in your museums’ halls, marveling bloodstained artifacts! Taken by force! Kept behind glass
To say it when you ski on stolen land!
To just fucking say it!
But here is what you don’t know
In one if these shopping malls, filled with shit that no one needs, but everyone wants;
One day,
a brown kid would look at them weird,
when they twist their arm behind their back
One day,
a black kid would flinch
when they push their face onto the shiny floor!
Someone will scream…
Someone will throw something…
Something will shatter!
it’s just a matter of time… trust me! I’m mystic!
I breath in the scent of future, those floating threads of pain…
And on that day, let me tell you! it will rain…
it will rain metal!
And your blue sheepish eyes wouldn’t save you…
You feed the monsters…
As we howl in the night…
You feed the monsters…
As we beg of you to stop!
Tap, tap, tap…
My fingers dance on my knee…
Listening to your lips move…
As the sunset’s silent cries pour over the horizon, through the haze and toxic clouds…
As my brother crawls under the ruble…
As my sister… shrieks…
in the dirt… As my child…
silently dies…
And you?
Floating in this fever-dream…
This twisted idea of peace you have sold yourself…
Where we all get to live for ever…
Unmarked by our sins…
I sit in the dirt next to their bodies…
My crow friend on my shoulder,
whispering in my ear…
As the night falls on my bare ankles…
As my torn cloths swirl in the wind…
As my fingers blindly search in the dirt…
I chant all her names…
I chant…
As my eyes melt in their sockets…
I chant…
As my skin turns into dust…
I chant…
As the sound of her wings guide me through the dark labyrinth of time…
As I become one with the earth beneath me…
My veins will grow on your wals…
Diging into the cracks…
Blood drips over leaves…
Crack, crack, crack…
And I’ll make you free…
Malmö 2024