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letra de origami observance - allone (usa)

{joli}
i paper maché, my world, carefully crafted it like the pages of your memoir left to sit in the armoire of someone with the same beliefs. my heart is made of paper, so fold it how ever you please, go on and leave your crease, crinkle me till i’m worn, i’ll just start anew once you’re done but don’t judge a book by its binding, don’t turn away from the most ragged- those are the ones who have the best story- their pages have seen maximum hardship and minimum glory. shoved in the back pocket of someone hanging on to its every last word, p-ssed from person to person. and there are notes in the margin- origamied words written to try to break the curse of repeating history. history’s repeating just more twisted and perverse, you can see it in the euphemism of obituaries, creating stick figures out of lives while telling lies and calling it enough

{allone}
i made paper doll chains out of obituaries then suited all my rafters and my visitors call it beautiful
i evoked the image of a rainbow from hostile oil spill pollution mold the pot of gold was the twinkle in my eye since i was enthused and pulled
out of the earth wormhole of guilty puppy dog eyes that no one tennis-elbow-greased to fetch a cure for its bawling
my head is ringing, a result reaped from reaching out to telepathic-phonic callings
teaching others to read into laughter, no matter the chapter, hawking happiness in all things as a busy signal to combat pathetic monotone-deaf tele-marksman-slaughter breeze shooting balk rings

{joli}
and my phone sings off key every time the devil tries to arrange another meeting; mocking true beauty, trying to steal the best of me for a dollar and someone else’s dream, when is say no, you might say thank you jesus or allah or krishna or buddha but i’d like to thank the ones on the ground for stopping the slaughter, and saving lives. those gods may forgive but life is hard to stand up to when those who share the land on which you stand cannot find it in themselves to acquit you for the societal sins we all pick apart and knit to create our own safety blanket. but one by one we are hanged with a rope made of upper crust moral criteria rather than internal. eternally scored for race, gender, s-xuality, creed. well if you ask me that’s nothing more than ethical greed. ethnocentrism at it’s best and i think it’s time we all take a rest

{allone}
i propose a toasty warm countenance to all the snowman and women
who could use thawing out of their ice-cubicle prison
i raise my half-full gl-ss to grow-up-and-atom-bomb-shelter for anti-hostile post predatory hostel precision positive postulation positions
when their nuclearly negative bombs drop and mushroom-service arisen
the table of contentment is cleared of silver spoons grand
so we grow up personable eating out of the palms of each other’s hands
with the circle of life wrapped around our ring fingers reading “life is a gift so live in the present” on heartfelt paper maché strands
when mismatch-makers thermally threaten, remember metamorphoto-shop-uplifters like obituary to decorative plans

i swear i’m not preaching
i’m just breathing out with persistence my active reason now
i swear i’m not preaching
i’m just easing out what existence has lead me to believing now
because gods may have made my smile
but one has yet to make me smile
so you may think me a daunting simple heathen
but i praise those who caused my dimples breaching
i don’t thank an ent-ty in the heavens
but the sanct-ty of my brethren
this isn’t here for beings as impressive prayer
for an omnipresent in the air
but heirs for being there and implementing their
love, friendship and care

- allone usa

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