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I have grown

16 Jun

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I have become my shelter from this storm, my legs have become strong, I can stand on my own.

My horizons no longer hold smoke and ruins, broken things and deflated dreams and bricked up ego, in it’s place are green grass and open space in which to build and develop the little boy that never got off of his knees.

No more waiting for hand outs and allowance, gone is the surrender of power to the undeserving, the belittling of self in accordance to ankle deep social criterion was last night.

Gone is never knowing when to laugh or cry, grey skies now threaten inclement weather and not deep holes from in which to climb out.

Weakness is no longer a character flaw, but a select moment in time when strength is not needed.

I am more than collection of body parts acting as one, I am a son, a cousin, a nephew, a friend, a mate, a thinker. I am a visionary with hopes of leaving this place for the next, I am the wind.

Though battle worn I be war ready, my weapons are thought and passion, my defense is knowing I have looked at death and it no longer controls.

The love of life is something I have never known and still not fully realized, but I still continue to get up and carry on and in that, I have grown.

Barbed Wire Rapist

7 Jun

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Our grandmothers screams can still be

heard through trees and swamps and back roads,

screams that signify a fire has started.

I can still feel white hands around Black

throats, still hear white breath in Black ears,

whispering devil thoughts in demonic tongues,

useless crying in half way nights fall on

nonexistent ears.

Barbed wire rapist with razor blade fingers,

leaving genetic scars on Black wombs and Black seed,

stubborn intrusions polluting Black blood with insanity

and double cross, injuring Black minds with delay and self doubt.

Healing still not coming to our grandmothers while,

rancid, pus filled wounds are left to fester and

infect, as you stand tall as if superior to Black

people, on your infertile land, which left

infertile by your dead crops and manipulations.

You felt deviant ecstasy as you entered

Mother’s land, with swollen, pale, hate filled bayonet,

stabbing generation pon generation of Black genius and

resource, with exact precision and intent, you wanted

nothing but to inflect devastation that carry the balance forward.

Barbed wire rapist shooed husband and father

from uneasy comfort, so bringer of bondage could

continue to defile and lay waste to Black

pearls and little girls.

Full of shame and self detached, her eyes

would never meet her man’s eyes again,

while Barbed wire rapist grinned and wait for

half way night, as doors can’t lock and cowardice hates light.

Land of the %$#@, Home of the Slaves

4 Jun

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As the world turns you walk together, steps locked

A mindless mass of catch phases and hooks

The blue flashes of news, nonsense and noise coming from dens, living rooms and places of rest.

Weak minds and absents spines

Religious fools and government tools


Enjoy your cheap plastic toys

Made by Chinese slaves who’s only break comes from jumping off buildings

I’m guilty as well

Only the drummer I march to is in my own head

Good Morning

1 Jun

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Morning greeted me next to her.

As sunlight strikes my love I am consumed by the emotions that accompany the realization that she is indeed mine.

I have succumbed to this goddess that lay’s next to me and my will is not my own. For if she wanted the world at her front door I am powerless to disagree.

I allow my hands to follow the contours of this perfect being’s curves, as the morning has not yet greeted her.

The warmth of her body wraps me in a cocoon of silky womanhood, if not careful my mind will be lost in this oasis that is she.

I watch as she is captured in angelic sleep, oblivious to my examination of her beautiful self, the temptation to touch her soft lips is too much, and I touch her.

She inhales life and exhales love, I try to collect as much as I can before claimed by spirits in need of a fix.

If she knew how much I loved her at this very moment, sleep would lose it’s grip, and I would be rewarded with her smile.

Many mornings have come and gone with me watching her and wanting her and feeling her and loving her. She is my heart-shaped box full of no more loneliness.

The outline of her body is faint under sheet, but have left a deep impression on my masculine essence.

I fill the air with my love for her, so when her sleep is concluded she is draped in an honest and emotional shelter.

I focus on this flower of mine as her eyes begin to open, and she is drenched by all the love I have for her.

She smiles and whispers to me…………………….good morning.

My heart stopped beating today

31 May

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My heart stopped beating today

Clouds passed over to pay their respects

Even the trees slumped in remembrance of me

My eyes fixed and crusted by exposure

My mouth is dry and my tongue is swelling

I was so tired of breathing air meant for someone else

If this life is mine why can’t I give it away

My heart stopped beating years ago anger was the only thing that kept me from laying down

I hated to see sun come up

My gut was filled with empty heads and staring eyes the quick and the dead

I was locked in endless daydream and blinding ignorance

The only way out was in through bolted doors and booby trapped self help

All I recognized were partners in misery

My heart stopped beating today and I feel no better

The grass has already started to grow under me

This world does not stop to mourn

The animals will come in search of a meal

Ashes to ashes and all

My lungs worked as life support for a empty husk

My legs carried me from one disappointment to the next

My hands failed me this should have happened sooner

My mouth was a tool of destruction to innocents

Down trodden and heavy laden was my lullaby

My heart stopped beating today but my pain hasn’t


old soul *experimental*

29 May

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i look new at this, as i dust off my old consciousness.

i’ve been doing this for six evolutions.

the suit ain’t comfortable this time around.

the sleeves are kinda tight and the pants are to short, it’s really big around the heart area as well and this hair.

i’ve seen quasars and pulsars, i’ve even seen collapsed stars turn into black holes, but nothing like this uncomfortable suit I have now and this hair.

i’ve been at this for six evolutions, i’ve created machines that can only be described as magic, but this suit is unlike anything i know. it has an unfamiliar purpose.

i have the ability to think on three levels, seen, unseen and what’s to come.

i have studied with and worked for all the masters from all six evolutions and have even soul traveled with a few to and from this earth. i’ve seen planets that have no life and even planets that are all water, never have i come across a suit such as this or even considered it.

i do remember in the first evolution, their was talk of a great people who wore this suit, but it was only talk and some even mentioned that those were not suits. my mind has spanned this entire universe and others, how could they not be suits?

this hair has got to be the most uncomfortable for me, it’s kinetic and potential energy at once, is that possible?

i’ve watched luna being formed and i even saw her as she cooled, but nothing like this.

i have seen mountain ranges come and go, oceans rise and fall, but this suit has power beyond all the forces of nature. this has got be to what god felt like when he created the heavens.

when this suit is illuminated just right, it glows with a power that i don’t know and the color must be the color of god and his offspring. the earth be this color also. i have been to the center of this galaxy by thought and that is not this, this is new.

though uncomfortable to me, i feel i’ll never get full use of this suit and this hair. this incarnation has made all the rest pale.

i’ve now grown, i have reached the upper room and rest is close, on bent knees, rest is close.

we never knew, thought ourselves life, but we never knew, how many times must a soul come back to learn a lesson as simple as this? we never knew and my rest is close.

after reasoning with myself and knowledge of worlds gone, i’ve come to realize that it’s not the suit that’s uncomfortable, it’s me. my mind is not  wise and wide as i thought, i still need to grow.

this suit is my beginning, after six evolutions i’m just beginning, my rest is not close, as I polish my new consciousness.


25 May

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She sets me on fire with the sway of her hips.

The way her dress flows is like satin against rocks.

Her movements were choreographed by heavenly being to delicate to be deliberate.

She smells like fresh baked life on the first day of forever.

Her hair is that of down from newly hatched love birds.

Her skin draws me in as if deep as an ocean and smooth as a summer breeze with honeysuckle hints.

She sounds like velvet harps, struck by wooden hammers and strings plucked by children.

She is the color of my dreams with drops of honey and a pinch of would you be mine.

Her creation was meant for men who long for women who are pure women, with smiles and soft existence.

She reminds me of days when sunlight washes through trees, to find my face and brush it with a golden kiss.

She is forever on my mind where she has taken up permanent residences.

She is as gentle as waking up on your own with nothing to do.

If tears ever fell from her eyes and hit the ground, forever that spot belongs to me.

I want to hold her hand and walk with her, then I can leave this place, I have truly done it all.