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Image for the poem .:Hueman - The Last Days of People:.

.:Hueman - The Last Days of People:.

 

picture beyond what’s black & white
a picture purposely more meaningful
vivid yet in its purpose a bit less lovable, should I stop?
maybe not; the question…was or is there a plot?
can you imagine having an off again-on again affair
everywhere this fear; this insecure despair
this increased dwindling of family & tribe ::bad vibe
the dwindling of numbers, a pondering of who’ll survive
the creeping creepiness of stillness; the chilliness
occulting across colors being one of the last few

in fact, if this were true; what would you do?

you being one of the last of your post modern crew
the last with a purely, albeit tainted Eurocentric view
hog tied to an era biologically pale; the precipice of fail
your whole geopolitical concept unable to bail
methodically not going any further
all claims being plunged into The Whatever
now found cohabitating  ::closely  ::mostly
asking yourself ::who the Host be?

cradled, then cratered alongside so called minority groups
huddled on massively inefficient porches & stoops
sitting, awaiting, plotting entry. again this was suppose to be your century
thinking your way of thinking was the best way of leading
hoping to control “others” rapid and increased breeding
condition revision; imagine being

Hueman?

but now finding yourself, melted and potted; your rule rotted
wondering “again” if this is how the blood gets clotted
wondering, surmising is this how the devil, how the bad jinn plotted
worldwide, in and around outside right before your very own eyes
gone totally into the right of what’s left
right into whatever it was prior to your ancestors first breath
before they came here or…went there
theirs is a history of winding up & wandering everywhere
all or partly together; their traveling by land and sea
sometimes by air; the landings upon “new” front-tears
each affair put into place to divide up
taking advantage of what wasn’t theirs to
rip, run and terror up

now what’s up?

perhaps now “positioned”
sharing an illusion with those “looking & acting” white
those of non-Caucasian decent
now finding yourself amongst them all in One Big Tent
the “sharing of power” with those
so called minorities

those shape shifting anomalies; contra-fied amigos

some who’ve become & will become presidents
they’ve set precedents now carrying on and forever changing hue
like the change artists you’ve schooled them to be
who amongst you does not see?
the anointed superstars...major & minor
so suave in their suits designer
embedded in neo-colonial notoriety
driving some to revisit their white supremacist ideology
while still conflicted with each & every faux deity
riding an amphetamine induced sobriety
or does it just come to you au natural
like the paranoia that attacks you
searching for your long lost kin
looking for your origin
where even in Europe when you tour it
one can see population changes
where Caucasians are occasionally mystified


exclaiming: “my, my, my, look around us dear…we no longer actually run things here”


now tell me how can you stand it? where the time appears to demand it
made to look au natural; this the biological
a disappearing act wherein your extinction is near fact
or perhaps our mutual tribes will morph into something else
something new where we’ll agreeably allocate resources
allowing fairness to run its courses
the sharing in all of humanities wealth
where an alliance is best for our mutual health
and for the good of all good & caring people
where justice is a thing prescribed as equal

this is an ideology that could take control
based on the forthright…a hue  Main Soul
because at this very moment the devils & jinn,
they are still working together
devising a tipping point of destructive behavior
yes for sure that’s their endeavor
and for a very long time that's been the reality
where the tribes have fallen into a

super-artificiality

day
by
each
diversified day

now tell me; on whose side will you venture to play
and who will lead the escape across a bridge to ::somewhere
from a “planned-net” that leads from ::nowhere

or is this really not your affair
while on the stoop, on the porch without
an inkling to care

.
.








...
photo: miguel cuenca


Written by kriticool
Published
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