Two Thousand Years Before - Two Thousand Years After

Dragging a long red robe 

Angelo Madrid

drowning in days of blood.

Ages ago she died.

A prisoner of time
revelled in distant stars.

Falling back
through my arms.

Travelling time
Cycles of death, rising.

Thousands screamed the message.

Plagues of rats
crawled across the landscape.

Be warned, there was no faith.

Blue light tortures
the dead.

Temptations promised
like soft necks.

Drums, tapping
signalling to the suffering.

Death marches closer.

Promised, imprisoned
in the sunlight.

The single living soul
suicides.

There are bodies
there is disease
that drinks the soul.

Two thousand years before
she died

In a river that flowed
of heart break.

Two thousand years after
time and whispers
tempt the mortal.

Still, she waits to be touched.


Rob Kennedy

The Street of Tears

Sao Paulo’s streets drip with tears. 

Drugs are blood, money is a god

with heroin and sex for sale.

 

I am the face of humanity

everyone denies

I'm seventeen.

 

There is no pain. Everything hurts.

Individual abuse means nothing.

 

Crime, contamination, cruelty

chemicals, castration, churches

catholics, christ, christianity

crucification.

 

In the favelas, brothers and sisters die

one every six hours.

 

The fucking dogs bite at my flesh

when I sleep.

They lap up the blood of the dying

and the dead.

 

Corruption, the cops lick it up

then suck it in

as though they

were never young.

 

I’d hang from this cell window

if I could. The only escape,

from the street of tears.


Poem Rob Kennedy, art Angelo Madrid

Space Fried Blue Jeans

Your hair hit me. Ben Folds lost his T shirt again. Go on catch me. A pillow burst, feathers in the wine.   Sitting on you, the only way. Stop biting me! Wine's spilling. You’re no brick. That's the phone,  Ha got you, fell for it Now my pillows split.   Racing for the door, breathing in Switching off the mobile No not the cake, I’m hungry/ Here eat it/yuk.…..   I love you/Prove it/how? Be my slave/I already am. Not good enough. Show me/ See your blood in my veins.   Not enough, Sing me. Well what/ My Woman From Tokyo? You Seventies nerd/kiss my jocks/Drop em/pay me/I love you too.   Yeah show me/this body is yours/ I’ve seen bodies before/whose? My dad's/that’s it, it’s war/stop licking me. Now I have to shower/me too/I’m first/no, together.   Pass the soap/why? I’ve got to wash you off me Don’t, don’t ever, here hold me like this, Yeah/ We’ll drown/yes please, as long as its with you/ The waters getting cold/kiss me, kiss me.   OK where are they/ where's what? you know! Oh, in the wash/no they're not! Where are they? I gave them away/I know you didn’t! You love me in them/Well only a lot/so? Third drawer. Ah, my space fried blue jeans. Lets not go, open the red? Rob Kennedy

Tanya Rossi

The Hill of the Creeping Shadow

I lay down on the cracks in the ground beside the hill of the creeping shadow.   This vast red wasteland is empty        of all connections.   The barren dead, dried up earth crumbles under my feet.   Did life once bloom here?   The wind whips up the dust into my lungs.   Dirt turns to mud it sticks to every hair.   The sun burns down on the living on the dead past.   An echo claps its sound across the sky.   Out here is where I'll die.   I lay down on the cracks in the ground beside the hill of the creeping shadow. Rob Kennedy	Tanya Rossi

Road Zero

Through the swamp 

Angelo Madrid

layer upon layer

The fine hairs of men

meshed with the blood and bone.

Pounded, down, the ground

graves sweat out history.

Flowers form a bridge

grown on human remains.

Night's echo the loss

sounding out, screamed and condemned.

Marched, punished men,

created road zero.

A prison cell twelve feet wide
three-thousand live long.

Through the interior of pain

blistered hands reach out.

Tortured tired souls

exhaust their final breath.

As road zero goes on

metering death.

Rob Kennedy

Paid in Full
In night time dreams, throughout a crimson mist, she dances before me.

A Sitar and Tabla, melt through my mind

Crotales chime to the kissing of her lips.

Her fragrant body falls before me

sliding, creeping slowly, seducing me.

Veils of pleasure fall away, she consumes my spirit with the touch of her hand.

Like cashmere she unfolds before me

a sound she whispers in my ear.

Fifty dollars more mister?

P.I.F.

I lay her breasts on my eyes.

Rob Kennedy

    Tanya Rossi 

 

            

The Kissing Mirror

I kissed myself in the mirror I wanted it to last  Cast upon the laminated glass was the stain of your lipstick Your hands reached out from within crushing my breath I shattered the glass, fracturing my face cracked pieces of reflection stared back Blood dripped between the serrated sections, over the stain of your lipstick Rob Kennedy	Angelo Madrid