Beewol - The Talkative Rocker
Smoking guns

We made rings with our smoke
and held the joint between two fingers
like the experts we were,
took deep breaths and sighed
this s**t is good!
We reasoned with reason
started and won arguments
shook our fists high in their faces
we would not be silenced!
Our rights were our ammunition
the swords in our mouths
thirsty for blood
Declarations of allegiance were made
blood from fresh cuts we mixed
in a blood brother seal
we were one!
The nightmares we had, the same
falling in the freedom we fight for in our wake
trapped in endless liberation circles
stumbling in darkness
looking for the next badge to wear
hearing our names where they were not called
That whispering voice we ignored
for His message offends us
“all this shall pass”?
we can’t be fighting for nothing
we can’t be on sinking sand
“just receive”?
we cannot give up ourselves to another
But night after night
our fear gains on us
abysmal depth despair haunts us
hopelessness stares back at us in the mirror
dark eyes piercing souls, agonised
“is this it?”
But once again we come together
put meaning to words
and dare ourselves to speak them
safe in the white air forming the muscle of our union
“this is enlightenment”
we try to convince ourselves
blowing smoke
and sipping drinks with finesse
as the experts we are.
Gloria Nanfuka
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