You can always say no

You don’t have to swallow that last bite.
You don’t need to look up her skirt.
You don’t got to buy that Lexus
or tell that girl you love her.

Romeo loved Juliet.
But he coulda said no
but he didn’t
‘nd where did that get him.

You can always say no.

You don’t have to run, swallow or take it up the
You don’t need to go, follow or give it a go
You don’t go to follow that well trod path
or say you’re doing well.

You can always say no.

Just turn around.
Just turn it off.
Just look away or
dive on in.

But whatever you do
don’t do it to squire, to nod, to acquiese.
Do it to confirm – who you be
Do it to get you where you are meant to be
Do it to make them ashamed
the ones who ask you to do it.

You don’t have to do it.

“I do not find a way to reach the hearts of men.”
– suicide note, Stefan Lux

It was over so quick.
One bang!
Forgotten so quick
just another event
in the League of Nations,
the next day
after the blood had been
mopped away …..
they went on amending
stupending, pretending
to be building
a better world
mindless of the message
you hurled
among their well-fed midst.

Stefan. Let me say
that at least I
a bastard Jew
so far away
in time and place
still see that bright light
shining.
There was no waste.
The torch of those who care
burns on
though the pigs at the trough
plod on
this alone matters —
to see what is coming
and to scream
though the whole world believes
the wolf has no teeth
to yell with the desire of David
crazed at the indifference
of middle class
who now can only hate
those who look just enough
like them.

Stefan. Know I
will too one day burn
like that bush
those eyes of Moses ….
burn to warn – seeing
as I do the swarm
the glint here in all
their eyes – I a spy
trodding the beastly heart
of man, governed man
knowing well
their refining ways
as they build a better world
sugared just right to swallow,
a better world, meaning
a better way to do away
with
the Other
those who look just enough like them.

 

Will you be my Yoko Ono

feeding me tangerine slices and cups of tea

staying in bed, laughing with me

while I write absurdities

that might light up this

too dark world?

 

Will you be my Yoko Ono

grow your hair long

wear printed summer dresses

and draw love in the sand

that is our time here together

while I dance and cuss

this world not enough?

 

Will you be my Yoko Ono

there when the gun goes off

proud and true

to something larger than us

lifting your skirt

in memory

while I sing somewhere else on?