Sometimes we don’t
Even realize it but we die
A million times over and over,
Reincarnation, we keep trying
To do it right, they keep getting
It wrong: walking through the
Exit to the left, and enter
Through the right:
And there you are trap again,
Inside the body of a ****:
Begging for your life:
You want to turn around
And take another door with
The golden logo: you must
Never knock, just open that
Door and walk in with
Confident:  what happened?
Next, depend on the first face
You encounter, never look directly
into the eyes of any one, never smile
Let the new subjects called
Your name, did your name
Sound like a boy name or
A girl name:  was it easy to
Remember: it’s a new beginning
Impurities from the old you:
Born again: it time to latch on


**Pray to God with tears in your eyes whenever you want illumination or find yourself faced with any doubt or difficulty.

We must never **** the spiders
While, they wove their words into the likeness of thunder
You only watch the news to find out
Where the con artist stands,
He opens his mouth and nonsense comes out
He twitters like a bird and the sound of a dog bark echo,
Lowlife, unhinged, bigoted, racists, misogynist,
How do one goes from eating at his table:
To coming in through the back entrance,

And whether it matter to us or not;
We got to see what division can do to us
Some might even say, salacious and ridiculous
I think it’s a game change, with the wars of words
Bishop and knight checkmate!!
your move my dear..
and by the way :
You are fired!!

You must never **** the spiders,
While, they are woven their poems into the likeness of thunder?
Kidnapped the poets, instead of the poems
Therefore, I asked of you to stop all useless riots
On poetry, read them, embrace them, and
Learn from them: poetry is disciplined
And disciplined is the most misunderstanding word
In the dictionary: but somehow it is said that

riots is the language of the unheard:
we must never embrace racial riots,
or racial profiling: reach out to racial equity
stop allowing the messages of hate to go viral
plants row of trees, in the name of love,
I recently came across, ants yes, I said ants

When army ants need to cross a large gap, they simply build a bridge - with their own bodies. Linking together, the ants can move their living bridge from its original point, allowing them to cross gaps and create shortcuts across rainforests in Central and South America.

I recently saw human fighting each other, I recently read somewhere
Where children were locked away in cages
,
McALLEN, Texas (AP) — inside an old warehouse in South Texas, hundreds of immigrant children wait in a series of cages created by metal fencing. One cage had 20 children inside. Scattered about are bottles of water, bags of chips and large foil sheets intended to serve as blankets.

We must never **** the spiders,
While, there are woven their poems into the likeness of thunder..

Narrative Reportage for 8/2/2018

Home is the word we love to hear:
The dreams are never over,
They are always a break through: after the tears:
An x is lodge in our heads was it the,
rock, a tree, or the hidden board,
Time welt serve: time to cash in
Time uproot the rocks
that tree and those loose boards
would this be a happy ending?

You had choose the life of crime
The crime didn’t nail itself
Every day a black man
Under the age of twenty
Pulls the trigger, they turned off the light
He longs to return to his mother womb:
I see the love of their mothers
While she holds their hands at age three
at age twenty three I see the replacement :
the chrome bracelets: the resentment
Neflex the new society wants us to believe that orange is the new black:
“Our ancestors have invented, we can at least innovate.”
― Amit Kalantri

**“Oh Child
Look within
Find your ForeMothers
Find them
Find them”
― Malebo Sephodi

Every time I open my mouth to
Response to idiotic people my language change
It was so early in the morning,
And believe me, I wasn’t in the mood

For female nonsenses: one drops on her knee
And raise her hand to the ceiling, open her mouth
And let out a bunch of nonsense. The other whispered
“God protect me from these evil people,

I look at my co-worker, and he looked at me
Such juvenile malarkey, so early in the morning:
“He said” with a loud Sigh!!!!

I lost another one, it gone, it no longer moves,
What, whom and where, and why!  The baby!
My eyes drop to her knees with such unspoken grief,

I was told that’s where they go for safety:
It had to be some conspiracy:  five small angels
In five years, how does she control those tears?

At the moment, I need a glass of water and two aspirins;
She looks so emotionless and calm: the same exact composer
Like my friend had after the death of her son:

I on the other hand saw myself standing on the edge
Looking down into the darkness of a bottomless pit

Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

** If you gave someone your heart and they died,
did they take it with them?
Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?”
― Jodi Picoult,

I want to write a poem that politically minded would read more:
My political allegiance: my contribution to the art:
those Snakes in the grass would adhere too: without obligation;

The hidden agenda of the world leaders
Would suddenly, take the Sephora masks off
just in time to reveal what we thought of them all along;
Those voices of the babbling brooks: some louder than the other:

the poem must expose secret of the ocean mystery /myth
Without apprehending the beauty
of the dolphins and the whales legal rights;
While its uninvited guests are caught up in their lies
we the people must say to them
"you all can’t plead the fifth" because


They are still a lot of trivia question for us to answer.
And it’s still difficult task for some of us to find
where's waldo amongst the leaders:

Cow itch circle the hills
Picking up speed, what a nuisance:
My body became numb: the torturous seeds
The native never seem move: by the “muckleheads”.
The itch and the sand flies: a duel team

I was the victim: The vice was on my back
Under house arrest, a meltdown I was so trap
It was time to leave all of the seedpods behind
Fever, malaise, drenching sweats and chills:

I remember once I told a fan, about my kind of therapy
My morning’s session, of cleansing the mind
A blast of my past: the uneven dots on my temple walls
Am I making a break through, nope I never had closure,

The groom wore red, on his special day.
I was the one that wore velvety black,
but I celebrated their reunion with a tall glass of
Ca’ del Bosco Cuvée Prestige Brut, Franciacorta DOCG.
Wine:

I’m far too clever to be taken likely:
So, I  let  my poetry writing do its own disciplined

**"If you can’t be a poet, be the poem. – David Carradine"