ジェイミー・キングのインスタグラム(jaime_king) - 3月22日 17時38分

A Belated National Poetry Day Poem || Titled - 'Let's Call It - I'm Not Gonna Lie To You' Everything I touched
Carries the weight of saddle creeks
The rivers bent
And it puzzles one
Rivers bent
Broken
Sticks and stones
Break these petit bird bones
Under the pillows you pull
A fight for covers
A fight for lovers
A brigade amongst stone
There have been bombings
You heard
Fresh blood
Not of cow
For what it's worth
They've been shackled shot, hung
Say I cannot relate to many of sums
They been plowing and heated
Now the whole worlds retreating
Angry, yes, mad, defeated
Cuz he say he my dad
Fuck these rhymes let's get back
to the spine of what I do best
The crunching of leaves Miss Simone
Jazz mixed with classical of the lone wolf gone rogue to Lybia
Her daughter was tossed within the movement of blackened seas
Boat sick, I feel it you know, I know
Somehow
The distant swinging the wind of the whites
The unjust powdered lily flowers
A herd of the lily flowers
Laughing in herds
No the sheep are not the animals pale and soft to the eye
The chains of the Africana
The chains of the balsamic love
The chains of our destitution
The chains of our justice system failed
The chains of the music notes old as that railroad buried
The chains of his tellings me with what to do
When, how, with what and with whom
Anyone but you and you and you
The chains of my vagina clamped to the men of my youth
Raped plundered pillaged
Yeah, they got me good
Got me all minor in age and key
Till my true loves got nothing left of me but a body's flesh covered bones
I didn't tell you
Didn't warn
How my nipple had nearly been bitten off from his gap toothed mouth hailing from Naples and Nazareth
Mine eyes are a prisoner of war held inside the God Almighty Hasselblad. || Written by Jaime B. King 3/8/16 || Photo by @neilkrug

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