Fly for Your Freedom

Out of nowhere it has fallen
On this broken bridge I called my haven
For your freedom, fly, little bird
I, ne'er know when, will cross it and go forward
Ne'ermind it's so absurd: you fell while I long to fly;
Fly, fly for your freedom
Let your song be my anthem

All along I have been chained to this bridge
You do know how it rhymes with bondage
It is; see I cannot preach freedom for you
My aim is to get out of this bridge so blue.

Image by Mutua Bahadur, Illustrated Manuscripts of Manipur Source:
For more images and text, check Mutua Bahadur's Art Collection on Epao 

Puff, Powder, Power, People, Puke

Atop the mountains of marijuana
The military plays hide and seek with the guerrilla
In the hills of heroin, the poppy fields bloom
Like Mao's a thousand flowers but in gloom;

A thousand of marijuana joints march
A million of skin the heroin shots parch
Atop the mountains and the hills' circus
The theatre curtain is so obvious

As the blood-stained curtain spreads slowly in the valley,
So clearly too, does each on their own. The absurdity.



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