Halo Benders by Jay Morris


We were always so musical in the way we did things
Listening to the sound of each other's heartbeats
And trying to play it back to each other in the way that felt 
     most biomechanically natural
Blowing wind through our wrists like harmonicas
Bowing our tendons like violin strings
Making music from marrow
Song from sinew
Every so often the notes would drop and fade (pianissimo)
and it was ok because the crescendo would pick it back up 
    altogether (fortissimo)
But even the best laid plans of pianos come undone
The last time the chord struck sour over the telephone pole
I knew you were tired
And I was tired too
Trying to drop life
Into suicide eyes
It all just wanted to die
Hang it self from the chain of memory
Crack its neck on the headboard
Land in a bed of mushrooms
Hoping their fungal fingers would break apart
this abomination into something useful
The mercy of mycelia
Looking for redemption in the soil
No longer in angels' wings
No longer trying to jump through halos
Because we kept bending them into prison bars
To keep each other prisoner
When the flood came we bent them into dams
Because we feared the inundation
We didn't want our banks to overflow
And spill out the eyes of the Earth
I don't want to be your Ark okay?
I don't want to be your Noah.
All I can manage is the whale that will swallow you whole.
But you are far from Jonah.
You are not divinely called, just going in the direction of 
     what feels right.
It hurt so good sometimes.
Just to know we weren't numb.
To know that you feel me.
And I feel you.
And we feel each other trying to bend our halos back into 
     compasses.
Pointing in the direction of stars.
They miss us you know?
The way we laid star crossed on the clouds keeping each other 
     warm
In their radioactive furnaces
They just hang there in the dark waiting for us to wish for 
     things to get better.
But we are so resigned so instead
they hang in the sky.
Waiting for someone's hope to turn them into a shooting star.
We aren't that different.
You, Me, the stars, and prophecies.
When it comes down to what we need most deeply.
Is our wish to be fulfilled.

Lion's Den / Kage the Poet

Prowling in the darkness
N the concrete jungle
Human prey abounds
the bait is plentiful
2 say the least
Locks hang as a mane
so they branded it a beast

There's no denying the
animalistic pride of
the Urban pride
It pisses oxi marking 
its jurisdiction of
the Ghetto brush

The spoils of the night
is unlimited cash flow
Felionesses
& blow 2 go 4 sale
4 the Alpha male

Stalking the Asphalt tundra
with a def dap
cool as a breeze