freedom in nothing

Everything is broken
nothing here is right
there really is no certainty
but we sleep at night
awake without eyes open
pockets empty too
I’m not sure what I’m doing
but at least one thing is true
that everything is broken,
poor and rusted through
I’ve torn my heart right open
and found a home with you.

American Benefits

I don’t have a drug problem
I don’t have a baby
what I have are bills to pay
with no assistance to save me.
I pay into benefits
they don’t offer me anyway.
I am not a junkie or a single mom
if I were today most my problems would be gone
if I came illegally or was a refugee
the government would provide me
money to get onto my feet
but I have lived a good life
I’ve been responsible
I gave my life to social work
but could be without a home
I have worked my whole to make it comfortable
I have given up my mind
and now I’m on my own.
Never thought my country
would turn out not to be my home
a place where all my labor
turns out to be on loan
for someone very different
to make it all their own.
No, I have lived a good life
but now I’m on my knees
there is nothing left in a country
filled with thieves
we protect all others
leaving good citizens to bleed.

Ants vs Wasps

We are not equal
not one in the same
you see the difference
is not as innate
as in skin color, or
the way that you pray
the difference is in
how you get paid
you’ve got the bling bling
I’ve got the pain.
We are not equal
not one in the same
you can afford the lies
on display
you don’t know the difference
living day to day
you don’t know the meaning
of living just for pay
you don’t know the meaning
of working poor or debt
you don’t know the truth
behind your politics.

He’s already dead, he’s already dead…

Walk out
turn around
cry
those goddamn tears
right now.
Never let a word
in edge wise
just keep repeating
the verse-those big lies.
Rip the paper
turn the flavor
change your name
or lose the favor.
Everybody taste the same
when you bleed
the thinking brain
change the world
by inbreeding
we lost soul
and
critical meaning.

Not your whore

Fetishise the poor
take what isn’t yours
gild the slums and whores
then say you want it more.
Fetishise poverty
make a smut film outta me
wear that Versace while
you drink that bubbly
then sing about the struggle
’bout smoking Marlboros
and over coming obstacles
like…
you were born a rich kid
now you a gangsters bitch and
yet you think you with it
man, you ain’t know shit ’bout that.
Fetishise the poor
turn the rich into something more
pretend they’re humans but adorned
better than that ghetto spawn
but they still have that safety net
there is no righteousness within
the upper class descends
into perverted embarrassment.

Pennies

Don’t have much
but I’ve got faith
broker than I’ve ever been
but more than safe
God gave me answers
in the form of love
God has kept this ship
from the bottom
of the mud.

My San Bernardino

I’m from a land
of blood and violence
a desert
that thirst for a reprieve
from this silence
a barren wasteland
where nobody hides it-
America has failed
to acknowledge our plight and
our children are met
with eyes rolled and slight yet
every American says with a sigh
just another day in San Bernardino, right?
I come from a land forgotten
for convenience
we don’t fit your narrative
so you don’t even see us.
I gave my life
to serve the vulnerable
only to discover
I’m worth as much as my home.

Classism

Let them eat cake!
Let them be safe!
Let them donate!
Let them all pay!
Here we are again,
nobody’s your friend.
We shall end up dead
forgetting the rich have fed
on our skins and bones-
can’t you hear the moans?
Not reaping what you’re owed
but living life on loan-
all this stress for soul
this cost is all you know.
Pay until you sow
never to be let go
you belong right here-
sustained by ignorance and fear.

That’s Entertainment: the Winehouse syndrome

With all these heros you’d think we’d be saved
all their money paving the way
words they keep saying-playing the game.
Wolves in sheep’s clothing-
keep getting paid.
Every album sold is another ‘we’
but when the rent comes
no royalties.
Bills keep building, you need a new job-
one that doesn’t interfere with the one you’ve already got.
It’s just not enough
even with cutting back;
skip meal, no new slacks-
hope these pants will last,
no lunch-need gas
work through break
under paid
still gotta work too afraid
what if I lose my dignity?
Can’t be unemployed in poverty-
gotta keep working for the pride
to get paid
just to afford to come in again.
Keep draggin’, draggin’, draggin’
’til death do you part
leaving a corpse as beautiful
as modern art-penniless and forgot.
With all these heros you’d think we’d be saved
but the one percent keeps us as slaves
no middle class
the poor who won’t act-
leading us back to black.