Tim Caffery

Freshman - 671 Points (02/09/1978 / San Fernando Valley, Los Angeles, CA)

Broken Magic - Poem by Tim Caffery

No floating eye or brazen head
Can bare to hear what must be said
No struggling mother, no desperate father
No terrified son or battered daughter
No god nor devil can yield this tongue
It hunts them like a black man hung
Slit the womb with a sacred wound
Celebrate the victory of the plopping sound
Global Apartheid is the air we breathe
Why do you think so many of us wheeze
Why do you think we're taught to fall to our knees
To stop our reaction & beg a male please
Broken Magic didn't compose these flames that grab hold the Phoenix & bind like chains
It engulfs the way it holds an Iraqi baby
Slight chance theymay live; likely die; even mutant maybe
It smells like Somalian kids
As they watch The Vulture pick their ribs
When you enter behind the tain
Broken Magic fills that plain
Like water fills air & ocean
Like energy fills space & motion
No one questions our world is imploding
The energy of emotion & action are corroding
Broken Magic is Hari Kari's last friend
That guy willing to kill you right at the end
It's MLK's 'sick white brothers'
It's the way apes are actually mothers
Pride comes before it all
Broken Magic is a sacred call
No swastika has ever meant anything more
Than the womb being turned into an open sore
A wound, a curse, proof of character
Like Africans to the Black Church in their homeland, America
We made it past their flagrant famine
Their continental massacres & unending invasion
They burned you at the stake
You were the slave the master raped
They stoned you for proving them wrong
They even rape you still in Sunday's children's songs
They branded you just for the scar
And looky here, here you are
From a billion Black Holes you skipped about
On your quest to figure this out
Broken Magic isn't even real
Anymore than what a human wants to feel


Topic(s) of this poem: women

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Poem Edited: Tuesday, June 10, 2014

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