Justice's War Teachings - Bavino Bachana

JUSTICE’s WAR teachings… intellectualise action actualise theory, amilcar cabralise history is a posterity quotation communicate existence, the resilience of experience express & visualise where we are a colour twist the brightness of mines meaning in image the AIR who we are moving in the direction of LIFE beauty from gloom the walls symbolise…all else is an irrelevance now the left-looking line is deft fitting the Grand Imperial Design: prostitution’s subjection to extortion global system reaction Bad Moon on the wane strikes the persian depths & it morphs in volcanic coughs * the causes mount,,,bush’s cretin eyes dance self-celebration blankness says ‘see things in a happy light it sings to the appetite. the war-cry a righteous call sacrilege innocence’s fall in beans & bullets bombs & food parcels the causes mount keep the loss-count flame-flowers burst open orgasmic come-down hearts of sand to deserts of man death is a transparent dustbin explosive see-thru to the otherside trans-portent at detonation point. of beans & bullets bombs & food parcels snatch-action-search among the finds of ‘no doubt in minds’ plunder the trampled under the powerful satisfied this hour’s rule the self-sanctified Avenging Angel the stars spangled the toxic soul-wounds walking amidst talking scars mangled in beans & bullets bombs & food parcels the DEBT no DEATH cancels * no crime slavery lumumba’s death becomes middle-aged, stirs festered memories in gangrened minds & there’s mirth at scavengers’ feasts. superiority in a colonial (adventure) mission gloats: “what count the Black Holocaust when genocide runs relative to pigment? Chief Black the granny-denture-peddler/merchant was the coprotunist- Ace of Spades sold off the rest of the pack for poo in a miniskirt… that brown nose stuck it in for the chocolate squirt” oooh bite the pill in destitute pride now is the faded prostitute’s last ride young minds get bung off behinds (&MOVE) in the last lap of the crapitalist i hear sense & sound swirl & the shampire tremble in the groundswell * i’m CANNIBAL-OX-tailed to where metal-shards & rocks wailed human missiled where the skies farted flame…in a war-game i’m pawned… ‘bomb them desert-rats out their kafiyaed holes’ oxTRUMENTALed MESSENGER BROTHERS…nowadays they don’t shoot you down THEY lick to kill you with praise until dick’s the only thing you raise. blue-chip-eyes & all defences down the poet is a clown & he’s not crying. the skin is off teeth wrapped around-back of the head gone green politics correct ‘cos evil come clean mean biting machine with souls at the stock market to collect. who’s lying who’s dying? no matter. the fighting is in the kitchen said cohen. who’s eating whom’s the question of survival. it’s cannibal on the self-preservation mission ones life’s departure another’s arrival. to make sure the south will rise again democratise put all corpses of the past on ice ‘cos none of the eastern men was wise. christ there are ships & whips in the sea of your second coming.

Photograph From The Artist 
Justice's War Teachings