Fresh looseleaf to which is bequeathed any breadth of information for later observation by any designated of whom the cerebric pliation is required. And did I mention that all of this syllabic commotion is solely directed upon that which is the topic of conversation, being what is the possible duration of any information and its proper alleviation, on paper. For what becomes of a new leaf is solely up to the writer, and their linguistic ability to confide in, a single piece of paper, with whatever tool they favor, their hopes and dreams and wishes. Perhaps a note to pull the strings of cardiac cords so music can ring on two hands entwined or, maybe a telling tale of how someone failed but miracles never ceased and found within or from a friend that they now have what they need to succeed, or perhaps it shall be that the paper will see the ages of time dash past, while keeping within what it means to sin and how to be a friend, so when finally found as a treasure i mound, a grateful people will take the greatest of care and ensure that there is nowhere, that such invaluable information isn't heard in every nation, throughout the world, or perhaps it will be made to sit and wait for this poet to make up his mind and decide to write down this poem. Because to a poet and pencil a new piece of paper is unlimited potential and should be treated as such as precious metal, for the value of a sheet of paper, that has weathered times river and avoided the shredder, is priceless when you consider that the information is never going to be less than what it was when written. So in conclusion I leave you with this note - if paper has the potential to change the world by being itself, what's stopping you?
Time spent, time stacked...Alone!
Drip drip, pit pat...Alone!
Idle thoughts roam free
What was, what use to be, chit chat...Alone!
A passing breeze and I wonder why
No lights in my sky, a look back.....Alone!
Hope and dreams but what song sings
Different tracks, same laps...Alone!
So is this what it is or is this just me
But Zae there is an the end to the tunnel, just don't believe that...Alone!
My style is different, called a lecture by a few,
but I do this when conveying a message,
that I would like to leave with you.
A mental tattoo to keep with you,
usually outlined by a few words so you don't forget the message,
because my mission here is to help a few,
I just only do so in passing.
So let my voice be the needle to my colorful words,
and the canvas for the ink is your mind,
So as I travel through this world,
a colorful mindscape in my wake,
is what I will leave behind.
I am a luftmensch progeny, with riches no mortal can steal from me. Contemplation of existence has declassified reality, and nimble thoughts enable avoidance of gravity, that crushes others into lives of square conformity, while my mind climbs through the corydali realms of eternity. Home to Angels, Demons, Spirits and a choir singing "Holy Holy". Where the currency is wisdom and the closest thing to poverty is the student whose mind has yet to wrap itself into infinity, see, the contrast against our material infirmity is crushing when the baseline is Gucci, bling, sub-prime mortgages, and mini-bars raided during extramarital flings, versus universal direction and lessons so pure they are beyond chlorhexidine clean. That’s why so much effort is put into making us pay attention to, anything that will distract us from what is true, that being the real you that's buried under layers of grief, greed, and an identity built to fit in with those you value. All of it temporary, most of it sedentary, but with an open mind it all becomes elementary, and avenues of higher learning can get us out of the torturing. We just have to get up when our alarms start ringing. Hard to do though when the bed we made is so warm and comforting, but when you finally get tired of sleeping through suffering, and want to know why everything amounts to nothing, just get up and answer the door that's been knocking, to join the rest of the class, because on you they are waiting.
THERE'S A BRACELET IN THE MEDICAL FIELD, THAT IF YOU DIE, THE MEDICAL STAFF WILL ALLOW YOU TO PASS WITHOUT DISTURBING YOUR TRANSITION BY TRYING TO REVIVE YOU. ON THE BACK OF THE BRACELET IS THESE LETTERS D.N.R (DO NOT RESUSCITATE)
THIS GUY WAS A CANCER,HE HAD A GET RICH OR DIE TRYING ATTITUDE TOWARD EVERYTHING AND EVERYBODY IT'S ALL ABOUT ME WAS HIS ONLY ANSWER, HE HAD DEVILISH GOOD LOOKS NO HOMO HE WAS HANDSOME, AND THE WOMEN WHO FELL FOR HIM WAS LIKE KIDNAPPED PAYING THEIR OWN RANSOM, HE. CROSSED HIS HOME BOYS JUMPED ON THEM SET THEM UP TO BE ROBBED PLAYED THEM SO CRAZY THEY COULDN'T UNDERSTAND HIM, YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW HE'S ON HIS DEATHBED WITH HOURS TO LIVE DYING FROM CANCER. D.N.R
KINGS KILLING KINGS WE'RE THE NEW KKK,YOU CAN'T STAND YOUR OWN PEOPLE BUT YOU BELIEVE WHATEVER WHITE FOLKS SAY. THE SAME PEOPLE THAT ENSLAVED YOU,YOU BELIEVE WILL SAVE YOU, YOU'VE BEEN HOODWINKED PLAYBOY THEY PLAYED YOU. YOU HATE EVERYTHING BLACK BUT YOU'RE BLACK, THEY'VE CONVINCED YOU THAT YOU'RE NOT ONE OF US BECAUSE YOU DON'T ACT LIKE THAT, BUT AS SOON AS THEY GET MAD AT YOU YOU'RE GOING TO BE THAT NEGATIVE "N"WORD AND THAT'S A FACT, AN SINCE YOU CROSSED THAT TRACK YOU'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO COME BACK. FROM THE NECK UP YOU NEED A CHECKUP DAMN STRAIGHT! AND YOU'RE BRAIN DEAD MY BROTHER. (DO NOT RESUSCITATE)
SHE ADMITTED GUILT, SOMETHING ABOUT VOICES IN HER HEAD IS WHAT LED TO HER THREE LITTLE CHILDREN BEING KILLED. SHE ALWAYS WANTED TO BE SOMETHING, BUT A COUPLE OF BAD RELATIONSHIPS ALONG WITH HER POOR DECISION MAKING LED TO HER DEPRESSION WANTING TO DIE AND FEELING LIKE NOTHING.IT STARTED WITH ABUSE, FIRST A WELT MARK SCRATCH AND MAYBE A BRUISE OR TWO. TWO BOYS AND ONE GIRL, INNOCENT LITTLE CHILDREN A BEACON OF LIGHT TO THE WORLD. ONE WAS FIVE THE OTHER WAS FOUR AND THE BABY GIRL WAS TWO,THEY LOVED THEIR MOTHER TO DEATH LIKE ANY CHILD THAT AGE DO. ONE DAY SHE FILLED THE WATER UP IN THE TUB, PUT ALL HER BABIES INSIDE AND EXPRESSED HER LOVE. SHE HELD THEIR HEADS UNDER UNTIL THE TUB BECAME THEIR UNDERWATER TOMB, THEY WENT TO GOD AS THREE LITTLE ANGELS AS THEIR SOULS LEFT THE BATHROOM.
When you look at somethin
Do you see what it is
Or what it can be
A lil critiquing fine tuning to bring out its tru beauty
So I ask her
When you look in the mirror
Do you see what the world see
Are you trying to get the world to see what you see
and as you recognize they lies and get hip to yo fate that you great
Are you surprised that these simple people hate
Some have an eye for the end results
Because of they faults they try to keep the world in the dark
That stankin thankin say I ain't gone accept dem to be better then me
That's why snitchin at an all time high
And the whole worlds gone be blind because they still believe its an eye for an eye
I was never good at goin from A-Z
I got a hard enough time goin from A-B
Without combining the letters for Bae & Be
But that just me goin beyond what others can not see
They closed minded thinkin and impossibilities
I believe pink ain't nothin but Baby Red
And that Baby can only grow based off of what that Baby get fed
Mind, Body, Soul
It all start wit dat Baby head
And if she ever gone be Queen its gone begin wit da princesses in dat Baby bed!
As a result of reckless spendin endin in a collection of material
Worldly value but its sentimental is zero
I worked hard to obtain the means to acquire my desires
Win, Lose or Draw!
Tryin to win I was unconscious of how much I really lost
A false definition only defined by position
Only to find my acquisition was a song they would watch and never listen
But I still love to show i'm livin
Now that's just me
A closed mouth don't get fed
But instead action can tell a story subliminally
And I can remember when it was just the opposite
When it was so hard to stay positive that every chance I had I dodged it
Now my head didn't understand unless it included a profit
In the world 1+1 is 2 so if you subtractin from my hand that's goin against my plan and to me that's simple logic
Sponsored by those with goals of they own self worth
Now with hurts that don't disperse over knowledge of my own self worth
And dreams that seem to sparkle with the essence of possessions
Like things in the dark come to light
My darkest confessions
Accompanied by reflections of lessons and how I was disrespectin blessins mainly from a lack of discretions
Simply put by bad decisions or other words a lack of discipline
I see you, vibrant, beneath all your layers, there, clear
All you are, buried by the shroud you hide behind, scared, clear
Where is the relief, no way out, save a breath, the journey is long
The climb out seems pointless, nothing but water everywhere, clear
Her, not the one who held my corpse as they died a little together
Screaming silently beneath a smile, in a pitch she couldn't hear, clear
Lost in the dark, crying for you, Ruler, clad in kingdom, misery's consort
Waiting to be returned to a state clad by the sky, free of here, clear
love is love god is love but love is pain and pain is love but pain is also weakness leaving the body my brothers my sisters take of this meat for it will sustain you this is my flesh, also drink of this wine for it is my blood and there's something about the blood that will make you whole. I got loyalty and royalty inside my DNA i got kings i got queens inside my DNA. past atrocities would make you think we were peasants it's just that our ether is unbalanced to the point we're the new KKK dam! Kings Killing Kings. I ask you how much do a pound of wind cost or tell the teller to bag me up three cloves of sunshine make sure to layer my cart with clouds because I don't want to break momma's smile. POETIC!
Generations of pain; a systematic, monster, manipulative sinister of RAGE!!
Tricked and deceived into believing that "peace" is my blanket for comforting my soul's turmoil & grief, Only 2-b left with degrading memories from a past that even I am 2 young 2 remember.
Look into these eyez.
Can u see my pain? a pain that is yours all the same.
Sorrow swells my heart that overflows with compassion, 2 much passiveness and enough tears 2create my own rain.
Look into these eyez.
Do you feel my emptiness? Can you hear my ancestors cries still flowing with the winds from way back when blacks were being whipped on a plantation while the "MAYFLOWER" was mistaken 4 a sensitive flower instead of a slaves transportation that sadly brought a "GENERATION" of innocence 2 an unknown destination that is now a new "GENERATION" of our babies destinies filled with new!! hopes, dreams and aspirations, but ending up in the very same tragedies.
Look into my eyez.
"AND" clearly see that "WE" only wish 4 LOVE, PEACE, HAPPINESS and CHANGE!! For every teardrop that falls from these eyez represents the lost tears from "MILLIONS" of forgotten, unspoken souls that "STILL" have voices too. Only theirs are still having a hard time "RISING" from beneath the bottom of the sea!! "SO I" , cry 4 them as I cry 4 every lost soul as a result of HATE!! May it R.I.P. within GOD'S magnificent skies...
Look into these eyez, "PLEASE"
" LOOK INTO THESE EYEZ "......