Coming out on vinyl, tears in the wax
show scars of growth, deny all and it
throws about loud shadows my sullen silence chokes
on to voice, we poise our poses to
play without threat modes both above and below
the flow grace, with its gripping unspoken undertow,
wants known, going forth from this froth requires
you never to ignore any message only because
you dislike the content, to accept what more
often than not is a warning sent without

a signal perceptible to its intended recipient, seems
everyone else gets it before it hits last
and hardest of all the one awaiting liberation,
prisoner in a poisoned pen, fragrant as this
condition is until ignorance gets bettered by loss
in a mist of incense mixing sex and
sandalwood with hints of angelica root, healing
turns
out when freedom is needed most, sometimes with
a shout, sometimes in print, others in both,
since a broken record never returns an echo’s

call before distorting for others its original form,
if ever you feel its pull be sure
not to resist the urge, but go forth,
be forward, be subversive, take heart and make
heard what no one can reverse, true power
is no longer playing a part you were
forced to rehearse, but performing your Self, its
own reward because to be causes to be
cured those less fortunate than us who settle
for being ignored, the voice carried on your

breath perfumes their world with courage, enough to
admit things need to be better than this,
that inner peace does indeed exist, is in
fact a state of mind even those with
the loudest lives visit, so resist the lies
every enemy stranger envious of your light will
try to convince you to accept, that in
the pitiless misery of their darkness they could
possibly offer better company than me, writing you
as any friend does, without judgment, only empathy.