The cultural filters are all in place
And truth, some say, is past its sell-by date
Weak hymns embalmed by hippies, and lost in space
Where time is always 1968

A poison-green tattoo on a fleshy back
No incense, but the Purell’s pretty strong
A ten-year-old gobbles his comfort snack
During Communion and a three-chord song

Our bishops quack and honk in flocks and herds -
We need a starets
                                           but all we get are words:


Intensify the Dallas Charter accountability focus accountability exclusively accountability collegial collective accountability responsibility address theme encounter dialectic collegiality variety universality unity flock dealing topic difficult reasons unexplored differences crisis difficult for bishops enable abusers gravely irreparably failures governance responsibility question engage conversation point brother problematic behavior cultivate culture correctio fraterna enables offending other recognize criticism opportunity to tasks related willingness personally mistakes to each other feeling maintain fraternal relationship cases we damaging weakness anecdotal parenthesis to his speech encounters course ministry recollection forgive counseling for healing discussing matter rationally headway realized psyche of the person measure semblance justice inability forgive his  apparently perplexing consternating remarked noting changed personality of person realize humility mistakes learn mistakes better question unanswered unaddressed mistakes allowed consequences mishandling cases gathering conferences participants and journalists effective concrete measures combat scourge scandal technical theological sense term list reflection points adjunct secretary special portfolio combatting meeting chief architects roadmap for our discussion very, very concrete understatement seriously utter understatement things discussed follow-up meeting continued model of reform the so-called intensify the Dallas Charter metropolitan model metropolitan investigating disciplining wayward ecclesiastical provinces briefing responded you have to read the footnote disgrace investigations systemic coverup dismissed briefing expressed hope report position power prominence leadership structure report findings influence broader jurisdictions Accountability focus accountability exclusively accountability collegial collective accountability responsibility address theme encounter dialectic collegiality variety universality unity flock dealing topic difficult reasons unexplored differences crisis difficult for bishops enable abusers gravely irreparably failures governance responsibility question engage conversation point brother problematic behavior cultivate culture correctio fraterna enables offending other recognize criticism opportunity to tasks related willingness personally mistakes to each other feeling maintain fraternal relationship cases we damaging weakness anecdotal parenthesis to his speech encounters course ministry recollection forgive counseling for healing discussing matter rationally headway realized psyche of the person measure semblance justice inability forgive his  apparently perplexing consternating remarked noting changed personality of person realize humility mistakes learn mistakes better question unanswered unaddressed mistakes allowed consequences mishandling cases gathering conferences participants and journalists effective concrete measures combat scourge scandal technical theological sense term list reflection points adjunct secretary special portfolio combatting meeting chief architects roadmap for our discussion very, very concrete understatement seriously utter understatement things discussed follow-up meeting continued model of reform the so-called Metropolitan model metropolitan investigating disciplining wayward ecclesiastical provinces briefing responded you have to read the footnote disgrace investigations systemic coverup dismissed briefing expressed hope report position power prominence leadership structure report findings influence broader jurisdictions accountable faithful promises episodes  accountability supportive talking collegiality obligation misbehavior failures circumstances reputation representative discreet inquiries interview expression concern geographically confronted reported matter subject investigating disciplining malfeasance proposal wrongdoing explained carefully considered matter alternatives remarks paragraph  rehearsed alternatives footnote 6 of text speeches delivered sessions briefing spoke involvement laity lay involvement transparency transparent offending other recognize criticism opportunity to tasks related willingness personally mistakes to each other feeling maintain fraternal relationship cases we damaging weakness anecdotal parenthesis to his speech encounters course ministry recollection forgive counseling for healing discussing matter rationally headway realized psyche of the person measure semblance justice inability forgive his  apparently perplexing consternating remarked noting changed personality of person realize humility mistakes learn mistakes better question unanswered unaddressed mistakes allowed consequences mishandling cases gathering conferences participants and journalists effective concrete measures combat scourge scandal technical theological sense term list reflection points adjunct secretary special portfolio combatting meeting chief architects roadmap for our discussion very, very concrete understatement seriously utter understatement things discussed follow-up meeting continued model of reform the so-called Metropolitan model metropolitan investigating disciplining wayward ecclesiastical provinces briefing responded you have to read the footnote disgrace investigations systemic coverup dismissed briefing expressed hope report position power prominence leadership structure report findings influence broader jurisdictions accountable faithful promises episodes  accountability supportive talking collegiality obligation misbehavior failures circumstances reputation representative discreet inquiries interview expression concern geographically confronted reported matter subject investigating disciplining malfeasance proposal wrongdoing explained carefully considered matter alternatives remarks paragraph  rehearsed alternatives footnote 6 of text speeches delivered sessions briefing spoke involvement laity lay involvement transparency transparent intensify the Dallas Charter…

A moonlit dance beneathe constellations
      not Taurus or Gemini, Delphinus or Orion
                 but stars we named together
                   linking lines from star to star
       hands pointing in air so cold
a tear falls and
                           another
  leaving a roadmap on my cheeks
            that you
                            chase
                           ­            chase
                                                  chase
   ­         lifting the palm of your hand
                 so cold to the touch I shiver
            feeling the beauty of my tears
         that glisten like Venus in the midnight sky
             of this cold Parisian night
  you smile in jest and
     I misplace the space
  between you and I and that sky
  whispering "do you love me?"
    how could I resist the beauty of
                 our second to last kiss.

© Sia Jane

this is a poem about how you sleep,
how your body grew cold like a corpse in a mortuary.
how it felt wrong to reach out and touch you.
did you know that you turned away from me
every time i tried to face you?
did you do it on purpose?
maybe you were afraid i would be able to see
you were dreaming of her,
that i would read it on your face.
lines by your mouth like obituary,
like roadmap, her bedroom,
the destination, mine, a pitstop.
loving you was like attending a funeral service for myself
and sitting in the front row. no.
loving you was like watching you pick out a casket
and call it practice. ****.
i know how sensitive you are about death.
i know it still hurts.
i know how everything hurts.
i am sorry for just being another thing that hurts.
i think i'm afraid to let you forget that you used to want me.
like if i can somehow dig deep enough,
wound you into remembering me.
i keep weapons-grade nostalgia in my back pocket
for the days i can feel myself slipping from your consciousness.  
i was born with scar tissue where skin should've been.
but this isn't about me.
this is about the way you sleep
like you're waiting for someone to close the lid,
cover you in dirt, and read a psalm.
this is about the way i tried to sing your pieces back together,
and the way my voice gives out
when i read the things you write for anyone other than me.
lover, friend, stranger,
i just wanted to show you how to love your darker parts.
i never meant to become one.
i am so ******* selfish.
but i swear i am trying to unlearn the steps.
and you used to think my two left feet were charming.
i am out of time in more ways than one.
i keep stepping on your toes.
i can't seem to stop tripping you up,
hoping that you'll fall back into whatever this was.

- m.f.

She followed my veins like a roadmap,
said I was the trip of her lifetime.
My arms began the journey
and the others
she said
were just paydirt,
her sweet dessert,
the beginning to the end
of her roadtrip.

The ice I wear is silence.
As for diamonds, I don't own them.
I save ruby for my lips.
I save swagger for my hips.
I save crystal for my gin.
And the only thing I age is grace.
As for me I grow divinity-
The sin in me,
is confidently rising as I walk into the room.
If I make you feel I'm naked
when your burden down with fur-
"What does he see in her?"
If I make you feel uneasy,
and hold him just so tighter
because my steps are lighter
although my thighs are trunks
like mighty oaks they hold me high
so I can match Tiffany eyes
to the Tiffany colored skies.
Wear your silver, wear your gold.
And I'll wear nothing loud and bold.
How dare I not adorn.
Not care about your scorn?
I am the bracelet that wraps the wrist,
I am the earrings lazy laying.
Designers drape me in goddess garb
while your childish glitter is fraying.
I wear years like men wear watches-
Proud and vainly count the notches.
Watch me slither, watch me wander.
Helpless but to become fonder.

She tattoos scars
Down her arms
And up her legs
A roadmap to the bleeding heart
You'll never see
To actualize the pain
To make it seem real
She takes a blade to her wrist
And finally feels
An exhalation of sorrow
Of hopelessness and doubt
Perhaps only for a moment
But a permanent route
A roadmap of scars
Tattooed on her skin
Hieroglyphic memoirs
Of the story within

Your eyes smoulder with an imagination that is even bolder than I could have dreamed and colder than this toxic air we've been forced to breathe.

You write poetry across your face to form a Gas mask of rythym, blocking out the hate yet sealing in ideas that might frustrate you.

You hear the birds in the trees and you read the articles in every magazine, you take in information like the bees to the Queen.

Your thoughts radiate an aura surrounding your entire body, you bleed history and pop culture facts, you need the written word like an addict needs their cigarette packs.

You're empathetic to your core, you feel what everyone else does so you hide yourself in your mind until you can categorize the emotions from the lies.

I know you can feel the love in your heart even through all the cracks, like a weathered and torn apart roadmap but you're taped together perfectly and even with a few wrong turns you always find your way back to me.

Flora and fauna hides the maze,
In the concrete jungle of corporate race.
Disarrayed and frazzled thou shall not,
For thou shall seek a roadmap of top notch.

On my wrist
You trace a roadmap
Of your heart.

There are winds
And turns
And potholes

Where past loves
Have been
Here,

The road is
Cordoned off
And forward,

Endless sunsets
Over mountain peaks
And the sun

Rising over sea
And shore.
Your story

Comes in whispers
And sighs
The occasional

Gasping intensity
Of eyes
Meeting eyes.

Your hand
Strays from my wrist
To wisps of hair

That have broken
Free
To dance in the breeze

Of your breath
That hangs
Ever close to my neck.

Return to the ancient path,
the roadmap of greatness,
the elders call must be obeyed,
thoughts of the ancestors is enough,
everything is hidden within it.
It is the beginning of healing
for all of us and our land.
With your ears to the ground,
listen to the secrets offered.
The lone voice heard has a
message for you.
To obey the call means life.
Oh! you children that heard it,
carry it like a fire within you.
Let it burn into your bones.
For your strength lies in it
and can't be taken away.
Your destiny is already shaped
by your culture mixed with their sweat.
The blood of your forefathers
was shed to earn you a place thus far.
Put your ears on the ground to listen
to what they have to say.
Tilt your head and look up for
the sky bear witness to this truth.
The air still sings their music,
even the waters also whispers their songs
for they drank from the same well as you.
The ancient trees in the arena
where they lean their back
stained by their sweats still stands.
The flute and the talking drums
are still calling out their names in
the dark under the moonlight amidst
the people with the elders,
the elements and the stars bearing witness.
My people return to the ancient path  
and save yourselves from thunderstorms.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.

There's no straight lines from A to B

No compass does it show

It shows my life as it has been

It doesn't show me where to go

As time goes by the pages fade

Just memories of past times

At times the present's blurry too

There's just so many criss crossed lines

No pages show my future

Just blank, unfilled, unset

You can not have a road map

To things that have not happened yet

Some roads it shows are darker

Roads you'll want to use once more

And on other pages, blankness

You don't know what they were for

The map is everchanging

It's not always the same

You can blame the old mapmaker

It's your mind that is to blame

You trigger things with songs and sounds

And others you might lose

It's a map that should show where you've been

But it's no good without clues

A compass in the corner

Doesn't point which way to go

It's your life, there is no answers

You get to choose which row you ***.

It's not an easy map to follow

Hills and valleys all around

But, somewhere there's a spot that

Is where your best can be found

A page that now sits empty

Tomorrow, will be mapped and show the way

But, it won't show you where you're off to

It'll show where you were today

So, enjoy the roads you've travelled

And the experience so far

For this is not a map you'll ever

Find inside of any car

As I said, it changes daily

There's only so much room for stuff to stay

So, remember just what's important

And make the bad stuff go away

It's not a map that can be folded

It doesn't show you where to start

But when you go and look back at it

You'll see your life was full of heart.
.

Scuzzy film on a scalding riptide,
Bare sinew woven like scaffolding,
Catcalling as warm-and-fuzzies
Mince by like so many exposed marble legs
Passing construction sites.
Crimped by a polaroid viewfinder,
I sit alone and click-click-click
With folded memories in my pocket.

Let me just set the record straight:
I’m still in love with our contrails,
But you can go **** yourself.
We were helter-skeltering kids
Rivulets of caustic devotion
Sweltering down our skeletons,
Fly away with me again, please
I’m seeing synonyms for you
In every ally-cat hymnal
This gutter throat can sputter out
Seeing scarecrows bound by wicker muscles
Shivering in a windfarm
Powered by all those doors you slammed
Snapping together like worn
Rubber bands warm summer hands --
Dance with me, you were
The most perfectly human
I've ever felt.

Is that Listerine rolling out of your mouth
In waves of empty bottles once meant for me?
Off of your shoulders like a cape,
A swindler, eyeing you
Like you’re trying to sell me cutlery.
Exchange glances that are
Trailmix crumbling between couch cushions,
Rubbing shoulders with waspy relief,
Tendrils of comfort had me gripped by the biceps
Spread eagle like a petrified starfish
Till I lashed out at you with bullwhip arms
Because my own back had been too hard to reach lately,  

Mirrored
Ad Infinitum.
Your tongue looks like a mirror,
Stick it out at me,
We always did look more than alright together
People stared on the subway,
Called us starry-eyed without a trace of irony.
Back in the day when you made me happier
Than something I don’t even have a metaphor for,
Just happy. Happy needs no metaphors.

I still check my reflection every once in a while
Never know if we’ll collide again anyway,
Best to be prepared but instead I
Drift aimfully towards a catacomb of eyelash wishes
And equally corny ******* I never believed in,
Still don’t,

It was getting at us, though,

Rubbing sandy fists down to the core
Instead of holding hands
Crunchy apple shell
Skin friction,
Bite the seed,
1,000 angry pomegranate teeth,
Chapped lips like crustacean shells,
Aligned like eye-freckles
Me looking like an unused punching bag,
You somewhere off in the distance,
A fading marble of plasticine light
On my wavering horizon.

Because yeah, you broke my ******* heart
You were novacane cruel and selfish
And so immature it stunned me
But you also taped it back into my chest
On the day we met so I guess we’re even.

It’s funny, already I can’t quite remember your voice,
the shape of my name in your mouth,
how you laughed,
but every word  you ever said
is still carved onto the back of my hand
like a roadmap towards all the ways
you showed me how to love myself.

Still rubbing them away with your scalding riptide,
All those words you said about forever,
Now just shackles,
So gladly did I submit to yours,
I still hate those ornery devices
Even now when,
They’re curled at my feet
Like broken wings.