If you should call yourself a student,
a truth-seeker or breadwinner,
live this life to learn--be prudent,
and absorb the evils of the litter.

Falter you mustn't
for this path you've chosen,
among others christen'd,
to be whipped and woven.

For when even life is beat, it is
sweetened with enough strife
as to never yawn or sleep, that is
but to see a cause to strike.

On the road like the beats;
Do light the fire of Yeats:

For what's a student got to eat
but a diet of dry pasta and black beans?
For who's a student got to be
but a-filling the mold and breaking the seams?

For how much a student's got to have
but a-cashing the last eight dollars in coin?
For what's a student go to know
but abashing knowledge for generations to join?

For where's a student got to go
but when a-coming home given the snare?
For what's a student got for hope
but a waterboarding victim gasping for air?

For how's a student got to live
but in living separate selves into one?
For how's a student got to cope
but to drown the fear with instant 'fun'?

For how's a student got to set an example
but being stigmatized for education?
For what's a student got to show
but to hide existential distention?

For what's a student going to do then
but to turn a-back from all with clout?
For who's a student now?
but, now, I considered dropping out.

And for what's a student got to Bear
     but to no fault overhear:
"The Universities are a day care"?

So, hear this, I bring thee to light
It would mean our honest delight
For all to know our dire plight
But as we sing our "Fight, fight, fight!"

and I want to write about love
but today I don’t have enough
my pockets are empty
my mind is full
but only with silent sufferings and yearnings
all my abashing confessions
not so silently rage consumes me
fueled by fear sleeping deep inside me
and I want to write about love
but today I don’t have enough
matter isn’t singing
visions mere hallucinations
lacking the soul of the world
once again invisible to me
but I promise you
that something still lingers in the light that touches your fingers
and I’m sorry if today
my eyes don’t light up honoring the day
just tell me about the light that holds dust
dripping it softly to the carpet

Arab spring
Still abashing
Dic tators and their fake thrones
Hitting them with wee stones
Liberty or death

Hold on your breath
Freedom and democracy
The end of supremacy
We are the world
We are the law
Stop your fake show
All together
Let's say
We are here
To bury
Your ***** play.

What's another day
If you are still faraway.
What's a new night
If I don't feel alright.
Days become meaningless
Nights are ruthless.
Their good morning is an affront.
Your good night makes me potent.
A wee word
From your mouth
Could make my day
Stop abashing me
She or never
You  get it now?
If you are really clever.
Don't ask me who and how.

A fight between the day and the night
A war between the sun and the light
I am the light
You are the day
I make your day
Why don't you say?
The moon laughed and coughed
Stop abashing me
Can't you see?
Your world is lit
From head to feet
The sun screamed
Stop lying
I see you are dying
A heavy storm
In an enraged form
Filled the sky
The sun left without saying goodbye
The  moon vanished
Behind the sky
The storm shouted
Your war is nothing but a lie.

Hope is a little ******* with feathers
That consumes the soul,
And sings unrealistic dreams--without reason,
And never stops (no matter how hard you try),

And it’s sweetest song is croaked;
the drunk storm clouding my mind
abashing and yet warm to that little bird
That kept so many blind.

I've heard it on the coldest nights,
And in the most desperate pleas;
Yet, always, in extremity,
It comes surging back into me