RIVER X

X marks the spot

of poor planning

That only rivers

can unearth

These tied steels

of concreted

deals of state loot

and dirt

Steals of deals

in dollars

Grand Villas

Gardens of Eden

and Heavens on Earth

With fountains of

Youth-like excuses

To rob cradles

And make concrete jungles

While Nurseries hurt

X marks the spot

Where houses stay woke

Like owls

Hooting and

Hoping for human company,

That can’t afford any

Friends

nor developments

Of fraudulent documents

Of occupancy

It is X...

It is X!
It is X,

which ratifies policy!

And X will mark that spot

When rivers cross courses

come 2020

Copyright©2018 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

MOTIONS OF UTTERED GRAFFITI

UNSEEN WOUNDS

Unseen wounds

left unattended

fester into

nightmarish realities

of lost limbs

in bloody trenches

and to the present

lifeless refugees

the strong

awake the nights

of existence

to seek  justification

for the fight

to desire limbs

they no longer carry

and to  detest  medals

with metal value only

and stories

of haunting heroics

and taunting

sacrificial rhetoric

and pledges made

and families dismayed

and  salaries that

are no longer paid

images and hopes

possibilities and tears

these mental survival woes

these great battles of  fears

unearth

the shallow tombs

of comrades

lost

to  unseen wounds

of human hearts

which when left

unattended

start real combats
Copyright©2018 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

VOICES OF WAR: OPEN CATEGORY

FIG AND SALT

What more you want child?

We have fig and salt

To last a lifetime

You could even squeeze

Ah lil lime

For flavor

But don’t take no favours

From the neighbors

We could bear this grind

Copyright©2018 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

MOTIONS OF UTTERED GRAFFITI

SWEAT ME A FLOOD

Cry me a river

Sweat me a flood

Lend me a dinghy,

please

To escape this mud

That flows through

my Big Blood

And covers Greenvilles

of Bamboo

in Caroni, Cumuto

and Kelly too

Where are 

those lifeguards?

Where are the floats?

Where are the heroes

To throw me a rope

Or paddle a boat

Through these murky waters

Which contaminate

My aspirations 

to navigate

This situation

and  escape

This cesspool 

of hate or pride

In this nation

Which voids empathy

Refuses charity and denies

And   debates my need

For necessities

Copyright©2018 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

MOTIONS OF UTTERED GRAFFITI