My kind of exile

My kind of exile is
my kind of existence,
Neither here nor there,
Neither real nor unreal.
Like a ghost I am hovering between
Life and death,
Justice and injustice
while the blood ripples in the skull cap
that I am holding
And I blow a thigh bone trumpet to
Provoke a rampage,
The crowd surges
Toward FREEDOM.


Rest of poem available now on
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Jasmine-Revolution-other-poems-ebook/dp/B007WFHUZ4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1335173063&sr=1-1