SOUL SCRIBBLES

Yes...I hear your screams scribbling paper
yes,silently loud screams scribbling...
Screams that vocal chords do not embrace
yes,silently loud screams scribbling...
tattooed- screams,piercing cries,
yes silently loud screams,scribbling...
like a ganster
tattooed tear drops below my eyes
Boast of my pain
Lost souls ...
my soul silently loud screams scribbling
For attention that ignores,for love that implores
silently loud screams,scribbling...
for retribution, hope on a rope
for restoration,
silently loud screams scribbling...
For forgiveness,acceptance and healing,
silently loud screams,scribbling
Imprisoned by scars,
incapacitated by social barriers
but liberated
by silently loud screams scribbling
To social distance from Carrera,
to cross over Golden Groove,
to leave Raymond Yard,
forever,
YES,silently loud souls scribbling!

Copyright©2020 by Camille Caliscia Patrick and Abioye Munashe

THE CROWN

The Crown

has succeeded
to steal freedom ,again
with shackles and  whips
and the same
old masks
and tricks


Confined
to dwellings
awaiting orders
and press briefings
worried about food
there is
no sleeping


To the noise
of funeral hums
to the thought  of
unmarked graves
at burial grounds
and fresh laid slaves

Of the Crown


From continent
to continent
she takes captives
some survive,her voyage
but some do not live
and some
do not enjoy
this life
She gives


As they retreat
inside
In fear
to hide
From the fury
and pride
of

the Crown


Copyright©2020 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

REACH

She is on her toes
Feeling the blisters
From the ground
beneath
Her eyes long
Her arms extend
Her mind wishes
To no avail

She can't reach

In this age
Of fifth generation
radioactivity
And human sacrifice
Connection is key
But communication
Has a price
Not just a rate

She can't reach


To stretch words
To fill them up
with meaning
To move uphill
Against gravity
Negative and positive
Poles
repel
Telepathy

She can't reach


Beyond resolves
Beyond enclosures
Beyond synchronicity
Beyond isolation
Beyond foreign
interference
Beyond  these
copper lines

She can't reach

To bridge this
generation gap
of connectivity
To stay in touch
with reality
When data expires
Two birdies
She now desires


To soar beyond the
Park of Oxford
Where deer
populates the street
that


She can't reach


Copyright©2020 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

DRIBBLE

When mad men dribble
Something is wrong

Everything else they do
Seems so intentionally strong

From dustbin
To stool
To sidewalk naps

From parliamentary speeches
In the parks
To begging scraps

From dancing in the rain
To playing in the drain


But that dribble

Is a mad man's cry
for help

again
Copyright©2020 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

SHE SCREAMS

She screams
when the radio is loud

She screams
At images in her head

She screams
When she can't
see her nakedness

She screams
at the voice
of the dead

She screams
when past
memories visit

She screams
at suspected fears

She screams at dreams
Now diminished

She soaks herself daily
with tears

All  her emotions
Are bundled
Into
loud streaking cries

Which like fingers point
And puts all blame

On unsuspecting stimuli

This she internalizes
with more screaming

And moans
down deep in her soul

Her own frequency
clouds perception

And her deranged cries
take toll

She screams
And screams

Oh how she screams!
Copyright©2020 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

IF YOU MUST

If you must believe in people
Just believe that they exist
And anything else
you choose to believe
Do so at your own risk

If you must trust in someone
Trust,that trust is circumstantial
And in trusting trust,trust
that you will encounter
sure betrayal

If you must love
someone
Love someone
who knows
how to love

Copyright©2020 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

SOLITARY

Sometimes
she dances
with shadows
until the midday light
takes them away

Then
she makes faces
to the mirror
until the dark night
Takes that away

Night
Light
Both define
her plight

And ensure
that she sojourns
alone

from day to day

Copyright©2020 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

THE ANSWER

Sometimes we feel
So full of ourselves
And every answer is
Within tongues reach
We understand
And hypothesize
and problem solve
We surround ourselves
with things
We void ourselves of love
We arm ourselves
Against each other
We wrestle daily
with our brother

Sometimes we feel
 so tall,so gigantic
That the small earth
prostrates at our feet
And  the rich dirt
No longer seems
 to meet
the criteria
for our body
We own the very breath
we breathe
And despise our Father
Who breathed in us
Life
Forever


We create reasons
For everything
We ignore reasons
for everything
And  chance
And consequence
Do not beg
explanations
From Big brains
nor Big Bangs
Which overlook
The purest solutions
When knees bend
And hearts ascend
To commune
With the Creator

The answer
to it all

FLAMING FRICTION

When the stones spark

Don't jump, as if startled
Don't yell, in surprise
Don't dilate your pupils
Let the light hit your eyes

When the stones spark

When the stones spark

Don't drop them and run
Don't cower in fear
Shake you heads
in agreement
Do not sit, and stare

When the stones spark

When the stones spark

Do not trample on them
Do not wish for rain
Do not  stomp and kick them
Into the big drain

When stones spark

In the friction of silence
tolerance
or  apathy untamed

I dare you
I dare you

To put out the flame
Without getting burnt

When the stones spark

Copyright©2020 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

WINDS

An odd familiarity
fills the air

strange winds
blow out here
Just like they blew
there
and the winds came
and the lies flamed
and the truth tamed
and the change came

The dried leaves
still look the same
though rearranged

SURVEY THIS

When values clash
the most valued
becomes the victim

the less valued
absorbs blame

and value
devalues
and shames
in values' name


When values clash
most valued
friends
strengthen
the sentence

Less valued
is
reduced
to  phrase

And
ignorance discards
just measurements


Whilst
arrogance
makes boastful
claims

When values clash
victims and villains
Become one

Tripod
to perception

To survey
beyond
the trauma

that leaves behind
the triumph
of two valued victims
not one


Copyright©2020 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

EXCLUSIVE ME

We spend years on the outside of self
Disconnected from  identities
Polluted by realities
distracted by who we hope to be
Confounded over destinies
Estranged from families

And only in alone  time
We see

the blindfolds
Of our worlds
The learnt words
Of our minds
The owner of our time
The system of me

and  all of the mimes

We are on the outside of self'

And nature calls us
To look inside
To unmask the secrets that are there
To face and overcome the fear
Of greatness which resides
In that place to which we hold
the Master key

And only in alone time
We see
That we can't occupy the earth
exclusively
And if we never
look inside
And turn the key
Or isolate to contemplate
this journey
We will die on the outside
of self

Copyright©2020 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

BOOK ME

Who is reading your book now
The one you thought I took
Is she at the introduction
Or the middle of your book
Has she  skipped
the mystery chapter
Or do you hold her
in suspense
To internalize your body
And awe her with pretense
Does she turn your pages carefully
Does she understand your plot
Has she met all of your characters
And your setting and what not
In this library of experience
Your book's a sure check out
But I have not finished reading it
So I'm sitting here in doubt
Books can't be judged
by cover,introduction
nor the author
And though all have much appeal
Only the end,your truth reveals
So,I would love to sit and read more
In the reserved section
At the door

When next your book is free

Copyright©2020 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

THIS OLD HOUSE

Since I've been visiting
this old house
It has been shaky
Though old and picturesque
A  mansion on 4 or 5 pillars
Is pretty quaky

Shaky and quaky

With doors that are screechy
And don't  require a key
That means just about
anyone can enter
this  relic
Not just me

From the outside
It looks like a palace
With warmth and love
Polished interiors
Strong floors
And stained glass window
panes

But from the inside
The windows are
All smeared with paint
Not stained
From some foreign artist
Gosh,
what's her name?


Hmnnnn...
I really like this house

And my babies would too
If they could only see
The beauty
That first captivated me
A foundation, without
the pillars
maybe?

Look!
There is enough room
for hide and seek
But that rocking chair
Right there,
really
Gives me the creeps!

Aaaaaaaaaa!

I like this old house!

Steups!
But it's pure instability 
There is a spider inside
And webs so thick
They can entangle me!
Can white oak 
Really chase these gins away?

Should I insist 
on renovation?
Should I just stay
Or build a new house 
elsewhere
and hang up my cross
there?

Copyright©2020 by Camille Caliscia Patrick