The Last Priest
smiled his blessings
indiscriminately
bridging
seeding
building
a new priesthood

beyond borders
across tribes
ignoring gender
discounting class
blind to race
snubbing rank
denying privilege

and preferring
a new holy nationality
for refugees
for stateless souls
like mine
- like ours

Broad eyebrows,
porcelain foundation,
pursed lips,
distain flying from painted digits,
resenting the imposed ****** proximity.

Then her eyes met her twin's
and both faces cracked wide in smiles and laughter,
her pose was momentarily forgotten,
as she was reunited once more with her tribe.

Sometimes I sit around and talk to myself
Then I choose to write it down
I’m trying to figure out if I’ve gone crazy
Because I’m addicted to the sound

The music wont stop
Because when the beat drops
Its what makes the culture come around
It doesn’t matter if they think you’re lazy
They’ll be crazy about your sound

When you see the whole is much greater than the sum
We are all breed of many colours as one
Tribe

Bless this mess
There’s too many confessions to make
The last mistake I made
Was to underestimate

That there’s a limit to the past though
It stops with what we choose
To put our clever mind on
So if you’re living in the past dear
I suggest you come along

When you see the whole is much greater than the sum
We are all breed of many colours as one
Tribe

Sometimes I sit around and talk to myself
And when I say it all out loud
It starts to feel more like that I’m awakening
Its the awakening of the sound
Yes there is no mistaking
Its the awakening of the sound

‘I belong to this
And you belong to that
Here is a line in the grass
That you may not pass

You stay on that side
I stay on this
Here is a laminated card
Without it life is hard

You talk in that way
I talk in this
Those similar I hold dear
But you cannot come here

I have this symbol
You have your own
Three colours on a rag
You have an uglier flag

I am one type of person
You are a different kind
Our kind cannot be mixed
For our categories are fixed.’

Nations – what a load of old *******.

"I'm not committed"!!!
Easy in saying... Deep in impact it leaves!
As a "Tribe" we raise... As a "Tribe" we Heal and Grow!
I don't belong anymore to "Tribe"!
Where do I belong then!
Where my soul will be straying around!
Where will be my home!
That is the quest!
Peace be upon you all!

A Brother…
A Friend…
A Reliable Corner in your life to reach whenever you ran for peace…
Above all, he is a light soul with that smile and soothing voice…
The space around him, let you close your eyes and let those Mantra spill over to cure…
Your Moments with him keep  you in the sacred circle of purity…
Although his tears are hard to fall, still you feel the warmth of his heart surrounding you with harmony…
He is presence in his silence….
He is the manifestation of truth…
He is one of the Tribe!!!!

I am not my mother’s tribe I am her pride.