Saul Williams 8 ,Said the Shotgun to the Head

May 10, 2011 -- Saul Williams was born on February 29, 1972 in Newburgh, New York. He received a Bachelor's from Morehouse University and received a Master's from NYU.

, Said the Shotgun to the Head (8)

6000 feet
above
sea level

3300 bodies
disassembled

the bone's
connected
to the cock pit

knee jerk
ass backwards

dancing slaves
in a mosh pit

punk rock
of gibraltar
roll out
nothing's new

mo' blood dyes
the mo hawk
only this time
it's you

and you
never loved her
for what she
possessed

you powdered
her face
and came
on her
head-dress

oil slicked feathers, putrid stenched water-bed
"mother nature's a whore," said the shotgun to the head.

and it smelled like teen spirit
angst driven insecure
a country in puberty
a country at war
we dreams
cotton mouth
blood thirsty
oily hair
fast cars
movie stars
earn 20 mill...
to instill fear

she and i never spoke. we were in relationships we shouldn't have
been in. we were sorcerers who had stored their charms in unmarked
boxes because they had made our partners uncomfortable. every day,
we reported to work early in order to rest our waking eyes on last
nights dream. i had resorted to sleeping with my back to my partner.
the ball i slept in curled in became the question mark i now placed
within all prior commitments. this was no teenage crush. it was an
adulthood rite. she was what love had grown up to be: unspoken, yet
shared between us.

on that glorious day, i stood before my cubicle shuffling papers like a
card reader with an oversized deck. the one on top read, "invoice",
as something within me told me to turn around. she walked the aisle
towards me perhaps on the same undisclosed mission that now leads me towards her, only neither of us was confident enough to slow our
pace as we approached the other. we brushed shoulders moments
before the first explosion. we, both, stopped, turned back and stared
at each other as if shocked that the outside world might bring to life
our inner workings.

here is our first touch
and here is this trembling building
hold the two in your hands
and tell me what you come up with

everyone running to windows to see what has happened, as smiles
slowly rise on our faces like the time between 6:24 and 6:39 over
the skyline. we are not panicked, only awed at how a fluttering
stomach can predict the short life span of a social butterfly. love has
become a fiery place. but we are living in an old testament where
there is a faith that does not burn, that turns kings into believers.

I believe that those were my exact thoughts before extending my
hand, just as she did hers. and as we walked into the grasp of the
other, a second explosion. we smiled, knowingly, like scientists
witnessing the primordial origins of chemistry. and down that burning
aisle where glass had been strewn like rice we decided to jump the
broom, walking off into the will of the divine wind { jap. equiv. to
kami=divine + kaze=wind} .

she held my hand
leaving three fingers
in my grasp

like gripping a symbol
from the i ching
which i'm not sure
i've ever grasped


Copy written materials are not mine and copy rights are retained by their respective owner(s). Actual lines of verse are reproduced here for educational, not-for-profit purposes.

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