The mute heard a melody that the deaf man sung
The blind man hummed it into harmony and that's how the first band begun.

So the mute wrote lyrics for new songs and the deaf man sang them and the blind man played the piano while harmonising and the first anthology of psalms came to be.

They recorded their first song when a crippled man with one eye heard them, who happened to own a recording studio.

They called themselves The Natal Trio.
The band broke up when the blind man tried to play along -- the mute heard their song but the deaf man couldn't -- as their song played on the radio.

I wanted to head to the African Union to speak my mind
So I wrote a letter so they could respect my kind
Then I thought maybe if I go to the paper they'd hear me out
Seeing as the newspaper is the bastion of the spectacle
But I got hysterical, as they told me I should come back later
So I voiced my thoughts and pulled out a hailer

Here's the story, the revolution is in labour
Africa is a child who needs hospice, he needs to go to theatre
But many would turn a blind eye so maybe this is a show that should play out in theatre
But maybe that wouldn't be enough so a black story should be told on a white sheet called the cinematic theatre
African child get your 3D glasses and take a moment for some introspection
This is a dedication which needs intrinsic meditation
So instead of fainting, here's a painting
Do you still treasure your body like the gods said you should?
Do you remember the time when the San were working on wood?
Sailing the seas and they would later be called the Grimaldi
They could sail the seas don't believe the whitewashed folly

African Child do you remember your clesetial roots?
Or have you been embossed in the culture of Timberland boots?
Do you still grow your hair for your follicles are receptors like an antenna
Or has the weave been weaved into your scalp so much that you only see white tapestries
Your afro was your beauty and now all you have in your head are glued and knitted seams
Martin Luther had a dream but the only colour that succeeds seems to be the one that gleams

Are we to remain a colonised progeny and have amnesia when it comes to our galactic ancestry
Yet we're quick to receive European ideologies
Soon after that we earnestly accepted American anthologies
And yet we know little of our African anthropology
Have the forgotten ancestors ever received an apology?
For accepting foreign religions and capitalist industry

But no they have all been reduced to slaves, what of our chiefs and sages?
No a millennium African would be quick to skip those pages
Instead we find wisdom when we're in cages
Our ancestors we've put in a box and that's not our original coffin
Through the coffers of the soul you see them in your past lives and they have been trapped in an X-box
Yes they are animated and we are left mentally incarcerated in the television plasma box
You would remember that many who still held the truth were given small pox

So I say on this day, make things of clay
And stage your play of our beginnings - breathing in sun rays
Hold onto to your dread locks for some dread that that so many uneven black threads can lock
Made to believe that whiteness is intelligence and blackness pestilence
Well spell out your excellence in trance states and let them call it deliverance
African child, wake up, the planet needs you
You have been the seed Alkebulan
Way before Scipio Africanus canned us
Rid yourself of these heinous cancers
Hear them the Martian chanters
They are ululating calling out all ascended masters
We feel the sacrifices of the yajamantas
We are one with nature and we bleed with the sun
Rise and grow to unite the world for beyond complexion we are one.

I'm not hard, my pen-is
Erecting ideas hands free
Fluctuating thoughts up and down
Sweating emotions like my heart is on a marathon
Curving negativity directing it to positivity spots
Ideas crying out of my soul
So writing gives them holes
I point in metaphors
They pore out through my pores birthing hairy sentences
I brush them into verse
They grow teeming up like a curse
I act fulfilled but the fool of me feels empty, parched so I queench my thirst
Drinking my own excretions

Hoping for someone to take me to an ****
So I can shave some and that's the sum of how I can save the paper I write on
It told me stories of its native habitation
Beautiful barked tapestries called a tree
But I have to put it out of its misery with a fruitful full stop. So writers do like Adam and bite this

Exuding the beauty that can make Mona Lisa blink
Listening to my heart I'm thriving on instincts
My writing is so ill my ink stinks
got sleight of hand to make disease think...
So read and let it all sink.

See evey broken heart has a ** phase
So I sit back and watch as it all plays
And no I don't hang and blaze
Because I don't believe in anything that's not baked
And that doesn't mean I'm into *******
I would do space cookies and watch the world in a haze

Don't get me wrong I am a lover in my own right
I just need a companion who will will be bare and forthright
Acknowledge what I feel for her and never lose sight
Make love with me and caress me with all her might
Kiss me like we're playing tonsil hockey and let me lip-bite

My affections are a selection of my art dedications
Devoted to the truth and all his friends, that's my collection
If she is carefree then she can link with me, we might have a connection
Sparks do fly like a dust speck so let them not turn into thorns set ablaze to electrocute my fusion
My fusion being my feelings for you so its not an illusion let there be no confusion

I am a guy who likes to be behind the scenes, never causing a scene, just kneading tapestries and watch them meander your heart like streams
If you are feeling the seams then this could be what it seems
I just wanna get lost in your eyes as they gleam, retrace your face in my memory so it teems
I will open up my pores and they will be a fortress
We can think of the horizon and have you lie supine on my mattress

Exchanging fluids and fumes, take whiffs at your perfume
And remember always that you are my muse
Sing in the language of the ancients as you ******
Feel my heart skip a beat, that's a vibrational chasm
Your legs are locking me on my waist
Our lips are locked like we're creating paste
I love how my psyche you amaze
If I was psychic I would look into your soul and tell your forefathers that you haven't been a waste
 
In my heart you'll shine forever
This has been one hell of of an endeavour
I'm seeing multiple heavens and it's perfect cloudy azure weather
Love you like a dove, you are the bird of my feather
I see you through the eyes of my soul and you are whole
Igniting fire is what I want to do where you feel you have holes
I scored the jackpot with you, keeping rank with your emotions is my goal
Take my hand, you are my hope so let's do like voyagers and elope.

Universal Director: What is that you want?

Me: A life I can die enjoying knowing that I've lived in my existence

Universal Director: How does one achieve their dreams if they keep sleeping in the day and living their dreams in the night?

Me: I try to stay conscious of all that I have dreamt while my body slept so I can carry it through the day. But I am unsure of what is real and what is fantasy.

Universal Director: Life is but a dream, a dream you have to seize while the tick of time does sneeze. For with every breath you take it is an awakening moment

Me: So I have to grab the pendulum of chance and hope its o'clock for my time so I can be the poem of my life?

Universal Director: You have to keep an open mind and a vehement heart, that is when you catch the train of manifestation thoughts.

Me: So I have been loafing, thinking that the more pressure I put on myself just dreaming so I can attract my dreams into reality... Has all been a fallacious fantasy?

Universal Director: Understand that you have the hands to hand the future into your grasp if only you keep fists where you fight, leap where you might then in rumination at the palms of your rest station you will gain foresight. No longer hiding behind the hiding of hindsight. Only then will you be riding the steeds of success, to be quite forthright.

Me: In retrospection I make an inspection that I have neglected an election of eloquent selection to move forward in my perfection. Only an illusion in its protrusion would cause confusion to a longing soul trying to avoid societal pollution. So grabbing the moment at its most potent is the remedy for excellence?

Universal Director: You are quite right with a left mind of calculation. I can only admonish you to polish the parts that are left unattended so unnecessary mistakes do not have to be mended.

Me: Such evils have signs portended, I can rely on my wisdom to avoid my woes being extended. I should apologise to all those I have offended lest I be unfairly contended. Should I achieve my dreams will then I be most contented.

Universal Director: You are ambitious, your ideas are nascent but your soul is ancient. There are many obstacles so you have to be patient. One cannot be without knowing the self, the self cannot come into being without knowledge of the universe from whence it came and within which it resides. Just like an address cannot exist without a house stand and street name, and to which town or city would it claim its fame? So ride on in the ethereal and art thoughts surreal to actualize deeds every soul can feel.

Me: I do so agree with what you decree, how can I argue with thee? I have vision but you open my third eye so I can see. And you sharpen my cognition so I can conceive. Light and sensors from the ligaments of the Universe should I receive. I have been unkind to think I am a god in a world of giants who rule the world by being thieves. Wisdom begins in the heart and is discerned by the mind to be sustained by deeds that the future self is oft proud of.

Universal Director: Hah! Now only do you see that the heart has vision in a dark body that receives its fuel as blood. Let that be ink then to write you into existence so your immune system can fight off pestilence. From this scripture of live-and-defend ascend into tattooed immortality in the stones of time and be a rhyme like a spell of magic. Live on to be the truth of your entirety and cry out for eternity in your mortality.

Me: Like an art-er I should martyr my purpose to my very being. Quite a deal but better than to have  my soul loose for any to steal.

Universal Director: To you the truth I bring. Fly with wings for your weight lives not in your ego but in the mass that keeps you grounded. So fly at the speed of thought and hover over beautiful things to cover them with your wings so the covert can be overt and the dumb will think, the blind will blink, the deaf will listen and the mute blow the whistle. The Universe is ready for you

Me: I am humbled, my apathy has turned into symphony. All the melancholy have been composed into symphony. All my  maladies have played themselves out to be melodies. A picture now do I see of what movie life can be... If we find the right seat, a perfect view does yield. If we can learn to write the suitable script, better fates can we wield. And our friends can help us in production as crew, casting our multiple selves. If we're lucky we get a blockbuster and knock on the doors of life once more.

Universal Director:
If you should find the secret window of the preview, afterlife is yours to receive as due.

These things I've seen
 
A lover be unfaithful, allowing another man to boisterously indulge her...
The love of a 25 year life imprisonment sentence fall to pieces like the shackles at the end of slavery...
The characters of the bible being whitewashed and leaving the blacks in the dark, a black book with red sides and edging, resembling the sword that drips of blood --- Blood of the tribes fighting for their brown and green land but by way of religion fell into the enemy's hands...
Crimes of passion that claim to be unending and relentless symbolism of love and affection however psychotic...

These things I've seen

Drakes protecting the hidden treasures in the garden where the first temple was built --- I guess Adam had cousins but had no aunts or uncles...
Shapeshifting humans during intense low-level vibrational frequency ****** ******* - all ritualistic...
{In my dreams} Shapeshifting humans as they turn into star dust and crystal as they make love at high-level vibrational frequency - all electric...
Flying saucers that blip orange and red lights hovering about in circles...
Driving into the Neverland in the dark where the compass tilts clockwise then anti-clockwise...

These things I've seen

Tall Long haired pale ones looking down from a cliff in front of the greenest of trees through a mirror that connects the Universe...
A falling star descending as if it were directed or aimed with a cosmic bow and arrow...
Light elementals showing themselves through a register of time called the calendar...
Innocence fall as the heavens had color or people called the blacks such as the advanced humanoid-apes that fly spaceships...
Lion King being a true story of a faraway lost home called Avyon, where Cat People or the Felin live amongst the Bird People or the Carians...

These things I've seen

Starving children swell up and their heads being left huge on  slim a body signifying the aliens called the greys...
Aids killing brothers and sisters like they were not meant to have form, purpose and meaning...
Chemtrails arting toxic infections that cloud the nervous system with diseases...
Beggars begging for a penny and hobos pushing hope and home on a trolley...
Visions subliminal being told on tell-a-vision only to have the masses document orchestrated thought forms on social platforms...

These things I've seen, as I speak I hear them sing. As I listen I feel them breathe, as I gasp I smell their feet... and I am just below their toe nail. These things are real and the more I try to put on hope-headphones I realise there is a giant Zeitgeist being plotted against you and me, can't you see?

The rock knocks and the waters embrace it with splashes
The ocean rushes to the shore like it's about to give the sand lashes
The sun sets as if to hide away from the azure clouds
It is a misty blue that is left in the atmosphere, this is a dream that could work

The clouds usher in the crescent moon,
it pierces through the sky as if the only element in the heavens
It shines ablaze and invites the stars
No electricity babe only the stars will light
No television, only the cosmic picture to ignite
No walls will house us, we'll camp in the wild with but a blanket

The crickets start making music and the mosquitoes start battle formations
The wind flicks the trees and the leaves dance at a rhythm
Now we can follow suit and collapse into ******
Kisses bellow and hands scale each other's body
The clothes are scattered and we're tightly close together
 I'm tumescent, I oblige you and align like an obelisk to a distant star


The oscilations tilt us into orgasmia
The swings invite a sing of cries and grunts and gasps
Toes curl and fingers twirl
Pores are open and the juices gush closing in
I look up and see you're supine eyes gazing wide open as if you're about to weep
I kiss you slowly and we disappear in time into countless "I love you's"

A night has been climaxed with ******* under the belly of nature