Racism is just another reason to be a bully… and it needs to stop. A true story written by Byron Hamel THE ROOK by Byron Hamel Did I ever tell you about the time I protected two black children from a Neo-Nazi skinhead who was crazy angry and getting violent because their mother was white?…
Sometimes the road parts And there is nothing there for you One takes you up the other down And neither one leads to happy Nothing but trouble and worry So do you stay? Do you stand still? Keep what you have and wait? Or do you head off road… off map Find that happy you…
He stood silent Staring at hands Full of broken dreams The beating was soft Barely just an echo A life fading And it was him Who cried for it The small heart Made for only one
The moment was magic Erasing every little doubt Like a lighthouse beaming Peering deep into the dark The ghosts stopped haunting And the devils stood in awe For there was no other alive Not ever To silence her darkness With one little smile
I’m going under And the pain is cold And the rushing grabs hold And won’t let me go Hopeless moments bleed Into the sinking ground And I can’t move I can’t reach out And I’m swallowed As the world sings Stay beneath You aren’t good enough To walk among us
My spirit flies Through golden veins That speak with Treasure tongues Hands full of stones Crush my heart Into gravely dust Until I find my way Back to human again
What was the purpose When it all feels useless What if she just called Life’s perverse bluff The universe lied The greatest distraction The boldest cruelty The sunsets, the dawn The rain showers The ocean waves The destruction of life Held by them all Quietly waiting For us to understand There’s nothing But pain in…
Survival means Breathing dust made of glass Heartache like stickpins Racing through veins It means sucking up lava And spitting out shards of ice It’s walking on rusty nails And bleeding out your disease It’s burdening cancerous boils Of sadness and despair As love works it’s magic Making all the hard stuff Worth the surviving
In that moment I am alone Sometimes the love stays Wraps me up Like a warm blanket does Consoles my soul Like your strong arms can But sometimes I can feel the ice form Before you’ve taken a step Before you can turn away Before you say goodbye And it freezes everything I can barely…
The flip was switched Or the switch flipped Either way Or some way The deed was done The dirty deed Was done cheap But not cheaply Because we are all Professionals here Pausing at green lights Running through reds Our attention switched Spans too quick Intelligence waning We are all disguised In filters and memes…
The heat rises Evaporating thoughts Borrowing hate From past lives Disturbing bones Long ago buried Naked emotions Stripped of dignity And laid prone To beliefs held
The turbulence is there Even in the quiet Inside the gentle rocking The to and fro of life It’s always, always there Like a crouching cat Just waiting To release its fury Because at its core Turbulence is furious And before you know it Before you can hold on With great sweeping tides And deep…
Experience falls upon us Settling in layered beds Muddy rust, shiny silver Crystals of every color Debris and rotted roots Every single one of us A unique mix of sediment With treasures not easily seen But always worth digging for
There it was just lying there Purpose holding tight to hope Clinging so hard to the dwindling Dominance of a careless faith That the ground began to rise As if dark itself was being born
Like glitter falling from a broken sky Jagged little pieces of atmosphere Cut through these hands of mine There are no silver horizons and Only shards to illustrate the moon Who will fall out of these reflections Once the ground collects their souls
