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Sahir M. Warlock
Richard Spiegel Barbara Fisher co-directors Thomas Perry administrative assistant Ronald G. King Teacher
A Waterways Project Publication
Richard Organisciak Superintendent Alternative, Adult and Continuing Education Schools & Programs ©1998 Ten Penny Players with funding support from the NY State Council on the Arts
Rikers Island Educational Facility Sharon Jones Principal
To all readers, I hope you find all my poems tasteful and enjoyable, but they’re written to teach and project important messages, but in order to find them you must be able to break down and understand parables. In other words, read in between the lines. Warlock, who is me, is always writing to beat the devil. So to find the meaning you seek you must dig with a shovel. Oh! To all those who don’t know - Sahir and Warlock are two different people who share the same living embodiment. For example, you’re reading Sahir’s work now, but when Warlock, the poetic side of me, takes over, there’s unlimited boundaries; and believe - he’ll cross them all!
If to live is to breathe, than to breathe is to die. So why are we born into thinking that there’s life?
Once we’re here we have no say, but why breathe when another holds sway over when it stops and how long we stay? The thought alone kills me and you every day ‘cause we live in fear even when we’re gay. So when we die why say we lived when in reality we’ve been A life lived in played! fear is a life
What is pain? I believe we take pain in vain, because it’s something that should never effect your inner domain. It’s only bought with but a thought, but once in your brain pain will always remain. It’s like spitting red wine on a white silk terrain, once it’s there it will stain. It’ll take the toughest man and break him to grain. That’s why in warlock’s domain there’s no existence of pain.
The heavens shall run red in blood, but when it crashes the turf it will flood all the earth, leaving us with no chance whatsoever of any rebirth. All that stood behind were left to be cursed. So many will be slain. It’ll be irrelevant to say who’s first, but there’s time to be saved. Please don’t stall. All you need to do is kneel down and call, ‘cause at one point or another believe it or not, we all shall fall. Everyone who lives dies, but not everyone who died has ever lived!
We All Shall Fall
Death is good and death is sweet. She holds sway over all that breathe. She delivers us from a world we all know reeks. So why are we scared of a supreme being so unique. She holds a sickle sharp enough to split a nickel. But with one quick slash she’ll split your soul in half.
Death is radiant and this I know, for me and she have stood toe to toe. She gave me another chance. Just before she let go of my hands we stood under the pale moonlight and we danced. Don’t fear what you do not understand. 6
I am a sleepwalker and for me there is no sleep. I live off the night and things that creep. Look straight into my eyes and see an emptiness so deep because a soul I don’t have nor could I ever seek. My heart is cold. My heart is numb. Something that never beat. I know I belong to the night by the cold sweats in my hands and feet. Creatures of the day and light will always stand beneath. I played a game and I lost my debt was my soul for keeps. So what can I do but adapt to my nature and walk forever as I sleep? You learn and see more with your eyes closed, but never sleep!
DNA: Deoxyribonuclaicacid is all that remains; and me, a supreme being whose intellect stands on a higher plain with an omniscience unmatched in any domain able to create energy waves so powerful no mass can ever maintain breaking down any structured molecule and rebuilding it to the will of my brain if wanted I could take all the stars from the universe and capture them in a frame for I am the beginning and the end! Nothing living can argue not I am Warlock the apocalypse and the equinox. There was a beginning so believe there will be an end...to all existence.
Ever wonder why we cry? or when we lie can’t stare another in the eye even wish the worst on others like to die just close your eyes and you’ll learn why for everyone’s mind is filled with red skies because at one point in our lives we’ve all been despised, even caught up in our personal ties and no one can deny that they’ve been mocked about and heard it in they’re lives, but these are the small things that put red in our skies, but one must be careful, a build-up could cost a life. But for me it’s confined me to a pencil for twenty five to life! The mind is the worlds most powerful weapon, but only when properly used!
Light and dark, love and hate with me are always a debate. Good and bad, God and man always lie within each hand. Order and chaos, sanity and madness always collide with happiness and sadness. All dualities I can oppose, but never do they stay. They just come and go ‘cause battles are fought within me and my reach; but never can I touch so in silence I must speak. It’s been my curse since my birth. I will always stand on the boarder. Realize I’m in my teens and by all means I’m still in between opposing realities. It’s something that I know will continue for all eternity. Everything has an opposite but stand on one side being in the middle of two can kill one’s mind. 10
Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week I think to myself. I wonder and ponder on my future wealth. All of this thinking is stealing my mental health. Stress and past problems are creeping through my head. Sometimes I think if I would be better off dead, but I remember my mother and she always said, “No matter what, you need to excel and get ahead.” But it’s hard ‘cause I’m on lock-down and confined to my bed. So once again dread thoughts are flashing through my head. I think of past problems. I think of future uncertainties. I think of future plans. I think I think too much because I have a lot of time on my hands. 11
Time On My Hands
My name was Sahir M. I lost my life to a glock. Now I wander a realm where I’m known as Warlock, a savage beast whose feelings and emotions have ceased. But, when I picture my old block I appear right on the same spot where Sahir’s life was put to a stop and for some reason here I find peace to tame the savage beast. But, it’s only for a matter of time ‘til twelve strikes the clock then I’m re-shackled to a pencil to write nonstop for my own darkside demon Warlock. Oh Lord, please save me from this living paradox.
Poetry to me is one of the world’s finer things. I perceive poetry as poetry perceives me.
What Is Poetry?
I am poetry and poetry is me. It helps me escape invisible boundaries that the naked eye can’t see.
If poetry were to die, then so would I. It helps me relieve stress, or at least tries. Poetry has become a friend. This I can’t deny; and I hope the day I rest in peace where ever I may lie, that the world uses me as an example and perceives poetry as I did through my eyes. I love poetry!
Is it possible to leave a trace in space without an object filling it? Is space multiplied by distance equal to time? The only assurance we have about space is that there’s billions and trillions of stars and planets in it. But, it’s always empty because space is as infinite as time itself.
Space really is nothingness, but tears and holes can be made in it. You could go through space and reach no end. Oh sh**, I’m talking about my heart and feelings again. I lost my mother who took half my universe with her. Nothing can fill my empty space, but a trace. 14
Jan. 1, 1977, at eleven fifty nine p.m. an immense cloud covers my world. Then a single light shines upon me as bright as a pearl. I’m temporarily blinded but can hear the voice of a girl. My heart drops as she whispers my name, “Warlock.” Immediately I turn pale and ask one simple question, “Am I in Hell?” She answers, “Should’ve been, but I caught you as you fell. I need you for a favor, so as an immortal you shall dwell and until my command is complete I have your soul which I hold within me. You will be my soul snatcher. The future will be made according to you, but you need not worry. Your body’s been made impassable. You shall hunger for souls by the swarms and the last thing I leave you with is a head of maelstrom.” Now the eidolon disappears without a trace. 15
The Night Earth Cried
All that can be seen is distress on my face. Why? Why? Why” Why must it be I? Now in my presence this night the Earth will all cry. And I’m doing it impenitently ‘cause I’m forced. I wish every mortal I take will go to heaven, but what makes it worse is that they’re not and I have a hunger for their souls like a raven.
Warrior of the pencil and paper. Always poetically making your mind travel. Raging against all with superior intellects. Loving what I do. Overthrowing nations with verbal speech. Continually getting smarter to the point where Knowledge becomes omnipotent of all.
In Search of a Song #575 A Waterways Project Publication
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