So often, we are
barricaded by numbers
figures, with no form

I wondered at these
Simple constraints on my words
and my thinking too

Though simple (they are)
so too, simple, is a knife
and oh, how it cuts

Like a knife, are bars
Never moving but always
Holding us somewhere

Being held, unloved,
In Arbitrary places
Static freezes tears


Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight
Tears and sympathy: prizes
for the losing side

Break bars, dull knives, fight
Be the unseen stone inside
The prisoner's gut

You'll like it more if
You only learn to relent
Fighting makes sorrow

Fighting makes sorrow
sorrow leads to misery
Can't we just make tea?

A warm cup of tea
Let it soothe you, heart and soul
and dull your senses

No, no, no, no, no
Stay sharp, stay strong: like bars and knives
Cut the soothing voice

Panacea. Death.
Calm, Contentment and stillness
No more violence


Just five and seven
Give the children simple toys
They will never stop

Never stop playing
Playing is a harmless game
Games cannot hurt them

Let them see you play
With just your five and seven
They will not suspect

You can break iron
Now shatter their well made swords
Upon your simple stone

Hidden in our gut
The mighty stone unchecked, weighs
Just five and seven