Monday, September 26, 2005


is it so hard for people to see
the person inside that is really me
i realize i may seem unworthy of sympathy
i ask not that of you
but maybe some
friendship that won’t make me sick
with the bullshit infallacies it commits
false commitments
being here
and being there
when really
you aren’t anywhere but
with yourself

self-help that reflects the feelings felt
of involvement and preoccupation
with the one and only
it must be just me
that is not satisfied
with the idea of
at the hands of selfish time

fuck that
fuck this
i’m done with the bullshit
that encrypts my brain
leaves it
sharp pains sharp pains
damaged by the worry of other people’s plans and
of other people’s well-beings
more often than not
it is only them they are seeing
bleeding bleeding bleeding
objects in the mirror are closer than they appear
i fear that
the world will soon collapse in itself
you and i
can’t find the time
to extend help to others who have felt
the pain that we feel
the stress that we have
i’m so glad
that there is someplace beyond this

all of these
human misfits
cause me to rip shit
i lay awake at night
hoping and praying
wishing and gazing
in the sky
for a flicker of light
that will give me more direction
on civilization’s plight

how trite
to think
that all there is is what meets the eye
i spy more
than you’ve ever bothered to figure
it was quicker
to assume the best
instead of realizing
that the demeanor of you friend
is not as clean as you would have liked in the end

nauseous nights
leave room for thinking
how long until i can be swept from this polluted ship sinking
heavy with
egos and agendas
please put an end to
my journey on the titanic of troubled tricks
i am told
i think too much
i worry more than i should
but when i am no longer here
to think and worry
i wonder if that will do anyone any good

it’s easier said than done
before you judge
think before you speak
you may never know what you are dealing with at the other end
blank, bleak eyes
waiting for a positive surprise
may be also eagerly seeking a speedy demise
comprised of
fast-paced, no delay, sways away
from the bustle of this place
waiting, “will someone just get rid of me?”
can’t everyone just exhibit a little more sensitivity?

Wednesday, September 7, 2005

empty jargon

everything that you say to me is taken with a grain
of salt i walk this earth wondering often if it's my fault
that so many see me and treat me the way they want to treat
assuming "oh it's sakai. she'll always be there for me."
that's not fair
nor is it right
and i'm getting too old to pick fights
this shit is trite
especially given all of the new orleans plight
people can say so many things about me
but the one thing
that cannot be said
is that i am self-centered wholly
see, i try to think outside the box
get dirty with issues
take off my socks
walk a mile in someone else's shoes before i'm rude
you never know
what someone else may have going on
even when you think
their whole world is sweet
just like your favorite r&b song
you may be wrong
and then
save the explanations
your energy is what you're wasting
because your talk is empty
and i'm not chasing
your time
your friendship
it's up to you if you commit
i love you
and care for you
action is up to you
because, for right now,
i quit.

Saturday, September 3, 2005

bourbon blisters

high winds and thunderstorms warn
of the impending doom of the people of the bourbon city
with empty promises of a bustling metropolis renewed
people scorn babies torn from all that they have known
levees fall
these citizens of the states united of a. stand tall
needing resources and hopeful courses to lead the way out
reused excuses and statements hatched in the white house basement
bush's only engagement with the new orleans enragement
arises out of a propensity to be preoccupied with the security
of petroleum gas fuel for the noveau underrepresented slaveship
that we call rescue
explain how so few military crew have come to the relief of the sad and mad
presupposed to be less that that currently roaming the streets of baghdad
convoys of 'our boys' with their military machine toys
govern over the weak and the restless
with teflon in their vests
bearing heavy hearts to get off of their chests
knowing that the federal powers that be
that have sent them to 'govern and protect'
are not truly doing their best
guns blazing over hurricane victims like savage animals in cages
i'm still not sure why it amazes me
you see
here in the melting pot of dilapidated democracy
we cannot seem to come to the aid of minorities as rapidly as we do overseas
people on their knees on rooftops
children missing moms and pops
guns cocked and wonder why they hear shots
and frustrated
inundated with hopelessness and fatigue
as outsiders
can any of us really empathize with those of the southern city of new orleans?
politicians with small ambition of our beloved country stall on pivotal decisions on the hill
while more and more evacuees in astrodomes and convention centers and highways get ill
these bastards won't pass the referendums to get the mission filled
a historical city under water with little to no order
now earnestly has some blues to share stemming from the unraveled seams of its very own french quarter
i dare condolezza rice or colin powell to pack a towel and travel there for one night to sleep on one cot
in fear of getting raped or shot
these people pillage because they have not
no man can claim to understand what it feels like to be in this wasteland
with every impending day
a growing sense that you are a forgotten prisoner of war
on your own land.