to fall as far as ancient spell
where darkness lurks
deep within the minds deepest well
of ghouls and wickedness
this is the lot of those chosen ways
of pleasure for pleasures sake
and to seek for nothing else
lost in the mire of false prophet
and the incantations of witchcraft.

What was it that caused physicality to become out of endless void and inky blackness and are we merely a bi-product of its residual harmonic vibration's resilience or do we embody the nature of its kinetic supremacy?  Is intellectual sentience actually the catalyst for the evolution of God or are we merely ephemeral splendor?

Oh yes, I nearly forgot to mention.
I do enjoy many orgiastic revelries
in my solitude, well, at least during
those certain moments of me
beyond myself.

If you'd like to join in
please forward a note of interest.
Included should be instructions
on how to best help you
transform your pain into wisdom,
how best to get you
to mingle your pleasure
with anonymity,
what we should tell your loved ones
if you happen to wander away
angry, saintly, or full of prophecy,
and a detailed description
of your vision of the beast's fiery mane.
You remember- that time when the god inclined
and presented itself, god to human.

the clouds shake out their
sheets, muse like a poem,

tremble in the hollows
of the dark. the rain

cries on the roof-tops,
cool as a moon beam,

beautiful in its heavy
dew, while the sky wears

its eyeliner like an egyptian
queen, its hieroglyphs a lost
world.

Momma was born a hip hop head
She'd whisper beats and rhymes in my ear right before bed
We played dress up every day
she'd do my hair up real nice
when daddy had the good dough
mamma partied dripping in ice.
and even when the jackets were too heavy
and my braided head too tight
as long as I made mamma look good,
I was doin' alright.
How can I blame her
I only know pieces to her story
there were whole other lives
a long time before me
and to this, I owe her credit
not every day was a dog day
even when I didn't know what to say
I mean she gave me my words when I was four
it made life a little easier when raising the children she bore
And for as long as I could remember
or at least since the 24th of September
She spited dad
promised me she'd always give me all that she had
Wasn't long until she broke it
2 years since we've spoken
but we manage
Momma checked out
left me and my siblings behind
left me alone to make sense of the world with half of her mind
And so here I am now
ripped from my bed
An old beat drew me to write about the love that's dead
12:39 am