Friday, September 13, 2013


The breasts that fed you warm milk
Grow hard and cold
Every time you fall
Every time you kill
Every time you taste blood
Yours or your enemy’s.

The lips that once sucked soft nipples
Now bite bullets
Hold cigarettes
And caress wounds.

Soft hands are now calloused
From sending death messages
Through bullet mail
To the guys
On the other side of the fence.

Every time the juicy meat gets torn
And blood gushes out like a last prayer
Fast, in a hurry
You rejoice.
But somewhere
A mother’s heart grows cold
The leftover milk
Dries up along with her blood.

If you keep playing with red
It will take away from you
The blue and the greens.

Bygone are the days
When you were a child of god.
You are feral now
But with a leash.

You are stupid
Trading your mother’s milk
For oil and religion.
But is it so surprising
When we have divided even nature.

Bygone are the days
When fearlessness meant saving lives.
Bygone are the days
When we were just men

And not wannabe gods.


  1. oh! Just too awesome man! I always had the same thought! But never could express it! Simply Brilliant!