Infected
Monumental silence, razors in my soul
Open wounds ooze and offer release
Sometimes it feels like an embrace
Crushing all the cuts and crust
Of the ancient agonies I carry
Through filthy corridors of colonial construction.
Thunderers
Make way! Hear our heartbeats bound
Over the earth like drum sounds
Sometimes softly. Sometimes like sacred screams.
Culture of peace, power, and righteousness
Older than the silencers of settlers,
Thunders through our blood and being.
Stone Song
Mostly I stayed soft and silent.
Open mouths make for scorn and shame.
Sins. Screams. Straps. Parades of pain.
Church. Home. School. Those patriarchal fools
Only taught me one thing. Fear.
Today I'm stone. Today I sing.
