WHEN THE FLOWERS START KNEELING
Poem By: Billy Alsbrooks
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Echoing the jester, the last man seeks my throat
For my eyelids have dreamed a radical dream
A dream that the whole world must bow before
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Liberating the creative will
Demanding total mastery
My pages give birth to a new truth
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From between the legs of a burning mind
Ascending upon the stairway of heaven
My pages give birth to a new truth
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I am the light, darkness has no place in me
I am the light, darkness has no place in me
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Ripe for distribution
I climb out of the filthy waters
Filled with a spirit capable of asking dangerous questions
My prose whispers the unthinkable
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Warring with the tainted
Smashing the untenable
Violently I denounce the ways of ordinary
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With my book of knives,
I aim to awaken
Awaken those ignorant of themselves
Those blind to their identity
Those who’ve become slaves of their own world
Who dare claim their liberation?
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I make the repudiation of all forms of dependency
For my words offer freedom
Although a threat of their own
My words offer freedom
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The secrets you keep, are a kind worth killing
The secrets you keep, are a kind worth killing
Yet who can swallow?
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Only the stranger
Only the stranger can love me
But the greatness is eternal
One day we’ll breathe again
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In the solitude, we shall marry the silence
In the hidden woods, we shall find oneness
And there,
There the cotton candy shall once again teach us to fly
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For when the flowers start kneeling,
There’s no going back
For when the flowers start kneeling,
There’s no going back…
