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1 Corinthians 11:5
"But every woman that prays or prophesies with
her head uncovered dishonors her head: for that
is one and the same as if she were shaven."

As she prays her head's in praise
She meditates and her alignment is what has them prey
Her hair is worn in algorithms
So you see a circuit board or mother board  of a new age black unknowing
Algorithms aligning her soul with the spirit's accord - they will try to abort
So they make her wear hair of trimmings like when  lands split
So soon she'd forget the fist of her Alkebulan print
Her hat covers the map to the heavens where she'd captain, from braids to the afro we find terraces of the cosmos...
 I see the keys of the piano and then I know that music is the language in which the verses union the Source wrote

Woo a man with womb and bring man's seed forth to expand the clan
Conscentise the concave mind to open eye to the cosmic kind
Patterns of pathways a patent, paintings on hide of dinoaours latent
But her hair is worn high and that's not esteem, instead it's a yellow thigh
Stereo paging on the cell telephone to tell her she's a foe to sink all your woes and curb them with her ******* and wrap you in her steatopygia.
But in her hair her head they would embed things the black gods would dread and then a set for the silicon concept, a new tribe is bred
  And to be fair is the paler hue rather than the iridescent swarthy tune
And we're globed in a speherical rationale where a flat earth is irrational but the self as a governing god the logical equation
So then we're in a situation
Her hair cannot be antennae because they tan her and fan her to the popular grammar, sentenced to the prison cell of a hashtag. Her real hair is rags and her significance is concealed by an iPhone and a bag.
How can you be my friend if you envy me?
How can you be my friend if you have a heart not free?
How can you say you love me when love you've yet to see?
How can you tell me you support me when half the time yourself you cannot be?

And memories there are
chuckles and deep thoughts shared
Now situation delivers pain and tears are shed
A friend you'd still be when nothing's said
But insecurity has to intervene
oblivious of the fact that you do not love thee
However it may seem you have issues that are real
However it may seem I have scars and wounds that are deep

Given into negative emotion, our friendship would be over and seem like a dream
over like a dream for your self is all that matters, how are we a team?
You talk behind my back about my flaws
all the things that you secretely abhor
Out you go then, there's the door.

How can you be my friend if you use me?
How can you be my friend if you fear to lose me? Rather than cherish to have me
How can you be my friend if you continually bruise me?
How can you be my friend if you find it hard to fuse with me?

I am my own friend in my head
Hence have I the heart to find comfort in giving
Often reluctant to be on the end of receiving
Tolerant of impositions perilous and demeaning
I am the strange guy whom to most has no meaning
Who is a diamond once I start winning
I have been searching for fungi repellent
To avoid parasites that feed on a heart excellent
Our friends can be enemies, that's rebellion
If you cannot treat me as friend, like I would, goodbye then.
Broken and wounded, I am a wreck
I am the shadows of dust
the sands of lost worlds
The pauses in rhythms constant
the gaps in words spoken

I believe in change
I see evolution with a revolution
only just with trust invested and not confusion
Poetry is my refuge when facing mind pollution

I slow the chaos and feel constriction
I Spiral in a twirling wave, repitition my addiction
I am mopping the dirt of my own flaws
I am a slave to this dictation

I believe in breaking free, like a tender worn leaf
I whisper to nature and speak to trees
The sweetness conveyed sends me bees
I fly to the ocean skies and wish a cloud bright were mine
I break a hundred times, this then of success a thousand times - a sign

I am a wreck looking to work
I believe in chance and romance
I remember honour before fear and cowardice
some believe in Jesus
some believe in Science, calculations and estimations
some believe in Satan, accepting that he is a victim in this whole situation

some believe that you shouldn't believe, but that is a belief outside of the common belief logical complex
I am a wreck searching for repair
a broken lover looking for a heart none can compare
I swallow the smoke wild in the air
I am a beast of Samson's hair...
The star running on ground when cheerleaders cheer
I am a wreck looking to share, a breath of vitality with those who may dare.
I
hold a thought and lose it like I have Alzheimer's
I see as different I like I have Parkinson's

Broken and sent to the trenches in and out of the face of it
Been made to ride kinds that were unkind to me
Seen friendly enemies and changing friends as if treatment has analogies

In the function of this gumption
I am found stumbling in a swing that relays me to all I can be and all I
really am
Showing me all things that are and abilities for all that I can


Been relying on society and its complex definitions ofwhat it takes to
be a man
Poetry shows an epicenter of the balance between male and female
Having nostalgic thoughts of a former fossil me that still remains
Swerving in the beat of my heart dispelling emotions that are hard to
contain
Stripped in wires for like of espionage, wrapped in coinstrains all I
can rely on is my restraint

Taken trips to Heart-so-raw and the cats scratch and wound like
Jaguar-Paw
Had a love once before and that was before the timeless heartbreaks
where I ended up shutting doors
... And the exes have hexed, coaxed the perplex complex of the poular
axe illium crest of thoughts mislead-ium chest __ Oh how raw, Earth's
crust of fix-fuss no less than confuse thus us so we don't trust, we are
waiting for our rests on the Cosmic tree tugs if not space lugs.
How deep does dysfunction spread in the Universe? verses in unison == the break up of a duality make-up== so its parts seeking for a glued shape-up; Integration.
Njunju boo I adore you I do
Was it all written that you'd have me smitten
The ugly beautiful shows me the lies and deciet
The beautiful ugly shows me naked pictures of your body covered in sheets
How can my hands touch the hologram of you?
Is your heart a see-through?
Can I walk in and fill the room?
Shower you with warm aura and clean off lust odour
Busk in the moment of being in the ocean of love
Swim in the constellations, we'll be the stars
Our souls singing, music coming from our hearts
Journey into the far away, never see the end of day
Make love in eternal sunset
And sleep well in the colours of romance
Carried by the muse that keeps us in tune
I, me and you.
It was a quick setup, couldn't have been a huge mess up
When I start to speak to you, an evolution of fusion is at bay
And when you talk back the right way, good feelings are given way
And then you begin to open up to me and I to you

I have a responsibility to reflect the best version of myself
I have an uncontrollable inclination to divulge the worst version of myself
When the script was changed so were the norms
The royals did not know what it meant to live in the shadows anymore
Too good to believe in divinity
Too proud and glamorous to believe in a Divine Source

Then man and woman soon forgets what it means to earn one's keep
Quickly there would be thieves as the gap widens
So position will determine what you get and don't get, away with ethics

Imagine we all have roles to portray in this big stage we call the world
Then you forget about your significance, just for the role
You forget about your social class, just for the role
You forget about your achievements or failures, all for the role

Then you develop synergy
Then a male lover will have a female lover because the feeling is reciprocated
Nothing is forced or rigidly implanted
The heart is free to dance and the mind is surrendering to rhyme and reason

Then I begin to weigh the value of each word in every sentence
I develop a composition, an attunement
I awaken the music of the soul
And how I associate will reflect in my dialogue
The moving picture is dying
There are more emoticons and stills because people are not grounded to the immortal strands of creation
So they struggle with locomotion
It stretches into the mind and you see this as brain cells oscillate slower and slower
And the race becomes more and more robotic - static
Bye bye to the angels in adamic bodies

What I am saying is how can I impart parts of myself if you do not compliment my make up
Not because I am superior but because you have been indoctrinated to yield to an inferiority complex that has channeled you to believe that you are good for nothing
And this has garnered a fortress hollow inviting false gods and a negative attitude,
A laziness to believe in yourself and honour your ambition

... And worst of all you are not compelled to go on a journey of self discovery because you are waiting for someone else  to tell you to do so
Rustically I would be a hunter and you a gatherer, but you cannot contain my collections if you have no pots and if you're not ready for me to shelter your soul
So how do we conversate
More than a postulate I conclude you just have to expand your emotional vocabulary
Or I just have to get used to being quiet
And that's fine with me... Food for my peace of mind
But humbly deary, don't say I wasn't kind to rewind
How and what I did impart at the start of the box.
I'm sorry that I am inadequate
I am sorry that I am absolutely confident
I'm sorry that I'm happy
I'm sorry that you're miserable more than half the time
I'm sorry that you only start loving me once you've broken my heart and I have left

I am sorry that I am not rich or possess glamorous material
I am sorry that these are the type of people that you would settle for
I am sorry that where I come from there is no ego, smallness or bigotry
or watch dogs to keep stars in check so they're humble for there is no extreme self-ansorbtion
I'm am sorry that you cannot feel and I am not there to heal once your conscience starts to breathe
I am sorry that I have failures and dysfunctions
I am sorry that you feel small and inadequate when I achieve
I am sorry that when you are angry; everyone around you must be just as angry
I am sorry for the weakness in you to hurt others because you are constantly hurting and cannot contain it

I am sorry that I am not perfect and may not be everything you have ever dreamed
I am sorry that I have to be crucified for the mistakes and faults of previous lovers
I am sorry that I don't have a *** appetite when I am feeling down and low
I am sorry for being direct and sincere
I am sorry that there are certain things that I do not feel anymore, pains that just cut the broken pieces of my heart
I am sorry that wars have turned me into a recluse and gave me no choice but to grow
I am sorry that I resonate to vibrations that radiate positive energy
I am sorry that I found solace in solitude and understanding myself

I am sorry that womankind has been scarred by men who had failed to understand the feminine energy within themselves
I am sorry that I am to blame for your emotional instabilities
I am sorry that you cannot run as fast as the best athlete
I am sorry that I cannot drive as fast as the best Nascar driver for I do not have a car
I apologize for low tolerance for *******, lies and fakeness
I am sorry for my emotional scars
I am sorry for  intelligence when it cannot reach you
I am sorry that you cannot understand how wounded I am, if you did you'd stop trying to hurt me for you'd only be hurting yourself
And lastly I apologize that you lack self esteem to realize the magnanimous potential within you
but see it is self-esteem, work that you do on yourself with the support of those who serve goodness and your best interests

I am sorry that the world is filled with the filth of hell
but what the heck I cannot be sorry for searching for heaven in the circumstance.... So I'm not sorry for divinity.
Here's we are again, penning thoughts and emotions
Like soaking off the excess out our underarms where skin quaffs on the sweat and odour till the air sets in

EMOTIONS HAVE PASSED and EMOTIONS HAVE BEEN SAVORED, Quite an anthology. We keep each other alive and inspired as poets
Whether we are trending or sharing and adding to Collections; there is certainly a consciousness in there

What subject matter would make for this object's subjugation to sense and reason.
The object being the writing here present to play plaintiff against ignorance and iniquity
Idle-minds to their defence are short-sighted as they have whims whisked by the moment
So who can really blame the ignorant and uneducated for they long for the rush and excitement... raw passion like kissing bosoms for the first time and unfurling a woman's body as the clothes surrender into your hands and collapse on the floor

So the unintelligent are merely maniacs in their own right
So we leave this verdict to the jury
The neutral minds that neither vote for poetry nor prose
Never vouching for friend or foe
Dissecting potential among amateur and pros

A little diction to feed off an addiction of anecdotal fiction
In it Again, poised to put words to phrased tapestries

And I will resuscitate and alleviate as I heal from poetry hypochondria
Where I constantly play tricks on myself
After I read the product, the synthesis is simply: I've done it, I'm in it again.
Flora Rose, the new garden hope
In seasons we are tested how much we can hold onto the truth
In reasons we are tested if we can be loyal to the Vedic tooth
It's been a testament how you could be sentimental to be fun to my mental and spend a night on my chest
Because you understand the scribe, others will ask why
Because you write your emotions on pages and care not what others might think
Because your heart is wise and you know how to say hello and follow and disregard your ego

You might wonder why I'm so far even though in spirit you can be next to me
I had to clear my karmatic cycles
Right and clear my wrongs
Refurbish my mistakes
I found the waters that ocean when I had finally paid the final penalty of being a scholar of life
I was held in perdition because I was eager to see another fall into trouble while I laugh
I paid the price and dove in those waters and was always under close investigation
An inhumane error here and there and I would be quickly whipped
Anything that opposed the conscience I was quickly persecuted

By the by I learned to honour and respect life
By the by I learned to honour and respect time
By the by I learned to honour and respect opportunities
By the by I learned that humility transcends pride and breeds higher learning and that's how I ended up being a defender of Cosmic Wisdom at some library of Golden Wisdom

This is how I got to temple 8
Now you probably ask me, since the previous flowers failed dismally because of giving into the material world and lascivious temptation, "how do I succeed?"
Well let me begin by imagining a future son or daughter
You know what has held light workers, care-givers and channelers back for so long?
They have been carrying the wages of their parents for too long a time and it became hereditary
A grandmother would do so much wrong in the world and instead of using the time she has left on Earth to fix her wrongs and clear her karmatic cycles so that the children of tomorrow don't bear the same wages ~ she inversely relaxes and relies on birthing a child who is destined to fix the errors that they should be fixing themselves
So the child is born into spiritual slavery, never mind what the FATHER of Creation had intended for that child's destiny and cause,
No they break Universal Laws and oppose the Cosmic Blueprint
So they get stuck in the Waiting Room until they can reincarnate to expand and stretch in dimensionality so that their soul can sphere at a more heightened divine level
But somebody has to open for them in order for them to incarnate and then you have generational spiritual debt

You know Flora Rose I wait for the day when the children tell the elders and forefathers; "***** you, this is my life, I have to secure and my own future, I am done being a slave to flaws and wages that you should be fixing yourself"
Because see FroRo we never reach the future if we're always waiting for someone to clean up after us
We stay jailed in the darkness of time
Time and time again we will repeat the same mistakes and keep on reincarnating until we get it right
But you can only have so many rewrites
When will you vow to become an eternal entirety?

Now to answer you:
When the man or male paramour is in the shadows she remians his branch
When the man or male paramour is in darkness she remains his hope of kindling light
When the male lover is the **** of the Earth she is the fancy shelter just by giving goodness and housing delight
When he is weak, she reminds him of his strength
When he is quiet she amuses him with conversational muse which if played right is sealed with a kiss of appreciation

She keeps the leaves of the yard at bay
She bathes in the waters he has ministered
She does not invite other men who have a craving for her to the house
She does not steal the wealth and hard works of her man, instead she defends them because it is a conquest and evidence of struggled victory
For this she is not an energy vampire but a coffer of endless treasure
Crystaling love, inviting the man into the love dance
She does not hesitate to follow the inclination that tells her to give him a call, or start a talk or respond to his messages
Because she is a soul Flora Rose
That's the emotion we've been moving and it will continue to pass unless someone grabs it
If you keep on missing this love, this yielding grace - then you will always count what could have been and should have been
And shoulda coulda will not suffice in heaven
It is about the now, are you ready to drive love now and see it through to the bitter end?

Well I ask you
  Many women are drawn to the crown of a Queen but they don't understand the responsibilty that comes with being a Queen
So for this they fail to move conversation, they don't know what to say so tell me how will they know what to do
I guess we're just then playing fool
  And it's the glow that's the rule and not the kindness to heart that is flow
They're all about the glow, just like Willie Hutch said
If they aspired to the duties of a princess or Queen beyond
Then they'd be ready for the sacrifices and leaps...
Until ego dies
They will always wonder how beautiful life can fly so young.
In seasons she doesn't betray her soul because she has already gone on a journey of self-disfovery and she has it love, in its divine state, she has it truth and loyalty and honour because she has soldiered, she has it all to give and she knows that to and for love's sake it matters, whether or not her lover or paramour sees that. Because she truly loved and never apoligised for standing by it, she is a better person. And their relationship can stand the test of time because it is not something borrowed. For this testimony and by it, she knows what it means to live and can indeed be the new evening to breathe sound life into the morning.
Was it luck as I was awe-struck?
It is said that these gleaming falling stars are UFOs
It is also said that at times when UFOs land they then become IFOs... They come to fetch a king as the king dies
Sending him home to distant skies

OR was it merely a sign that the Pleiadians have landed?
Or other races beyond, from Lyra to Procyon
not to mention the bellicose Orions
we wouldn't see this of course
as all that would be would be what isn't and what isn't would be what it truly is
Living in Alice and her wonderland
We see politics and earthly government
but the point is to hide exo-politics, Councils and Houses

We would be asleep when the unseen god is an emperor of just one constellation
We would be asleep as the centre of the Universe serenades Gaia
We wouldn't see as Nihahua engages Sol
We wouldn't see as Tiamat rises to the fourth dimension for we would think we are asleep

We would think of raptures holy as they are protocol to transport souls to other planets
Yes advanced some are as they are 4D others even 5D
and a means of exchange not being money
so that makes our planet a child you see
These things you wouldn't know as they are cleared by the MIB's
These things you wouldn't know when mediums or channelers form religions
These things you wouldn't as hybrids and starseeds form religions
These things would seem ridiculous for you are programmed
You wouldn't know what to believe for restricted are tools to examine
You wouldn't know what to concoct when access to information is limited
It said some serve the upliftment of humanity
I'm talking about the Andromeda Council and Christos Council

From Babylon to Rome
Or was it from Atlantis to Mu then Ur? Before the Annunaki went to Sumer
From Rome to the whole world
Was it Nibiru which heaven was?
Are we really living in Star Wars?
Are we ruled by Star Lords?

Are we humans trying not to be aliens?
Or are we aliens trying to be human?
The strongest angel ever created, the weakest
a sad day in heaven
the angel of light then brought darkness
Not a mystery why light is sought after and its essence

I saw a falling star
Some are abducted, sexually indulged and barred
They are ridiculed in society as they are told that's how insanity starts
There are people who go missing in caverns, not knowing that they would be genetically manipulated and brainwashed
There are communicators of divine knowledge
They are called lunatics who feed ludicrous knowledge
We wouldn't know the difference for we are trapped in matter
We wouldn't care for the physical is all that would matter
From the Els to the Yahweh consciousness
From the Serpent gods to Sorcerer kings and Priest kings
Do we know where it all started?

Religion would be coded astronomy
The movement of stars, astrology
if we knew the galactic anthropology
We wouldn't think we are alone
Science fiction would present technology
Linear time would be no more
Wormholes the doors
The Ark of The Covenant a device used as a good weapon
We would know all and more of this if we saw more falling stars
We would know more of this if we weren't kept busy by the masters
We would know more of this if we stopped thinking we are free
Then we'd know who we are and where we are going
to that place of all knowing.
Listen to Niribu by TaMarah #np on #SoundCloud
https://soundcloud.com/tamarah-taesee/niribu
I tried to say Hi on Hellopoetry
so fellow poets could flow with me
But Hi was too short for greeting relevance
So I hope a read makes for meeting's succulence
and subjugates ignorance's absence
At the end of this sentence I pay my sentence.
:Hello Poetry, Hello Poets
Respect to the writers on Hellopoetry
I went to the garden of love
I found a juicy fruit
as I indulged it oozed syrups of bliss
as I tried to talk, my words sounded like music from a flute
I looked into her eyes
I saw the tainted mind due to lies
and her body, with romance was written
She remained pure even after being bitten
she left my hands sticky and as I licked the excess
I felt my soul swimming in honey
This was her dew, broad was her view
She knew about erotica but I was something new
I then blew her away with blown kisses
I showered her with comfort and poems and she'd listen
She was very inviting, as I entered her essence would glisten
We would take walks in far distant lands and realise we had been dreaming
Many envied and found this love demeaning
This is the juicy fruit many search for so life can give them meaning.
Inspired by MTUME's Juicy Fruit
The burning wick picks the bright pink flowery foliage
And I know that our love has lived and ended
The breaths I exhale whisper a cold relief
And how I would return to my loneliness wraps me in disbelief

Of what the moments were, memories remain
All of the colour and the horrifying pain
Right to the flavour of emotional highs that left a stain
A romantic ballad which is fit to be a fairy’s fairy-tale fame

How twisted the events have been
but there is no winner in this game
Only players and the order is sung by the horn-blower
As the world that matters would have it --- poetic deposits make returns slower
The keeper of a love is the money-spender and whistle-blower

And we soldiers of love return to the
only thing we know to be real, our refuge of solitude…
I played, I played a tune,
it was melodious but the flower prohibited to bloom kept the rhythm blue…
I will remember you, so long lover and letting go is letting go

Goodbye will do us no good as we go on by
May you be true to your heart and overcome your fears
May you find solace in a loving friend for all your tears
It has been an education loving you but Letting go is letting go, so on I go.
30 days in. Now, after, out to the market theatre.

People idling, few wondering who pulls the strings
few investigate who paints the streets
who constructs the buildings
it is a show if you slow your vision you will know

You go to a shop, you pick, you pay and go your way
Calculated activity
Prolonged elasticity
And money extends and circulates the sensitivity
the physical defying relativity
Schedules and plans, maps and structures of time
a defined life as I write

You go to church
the congregation settles, the pastor preaches
the congregation responds, "halleluyah" "amen"
songs are sung
tithes paid and progress of church displayed
soon the bell rings and away to our cottages
Cook sunday lunch and a day blessed by God
and sunday after sunday after sunday

You go to school
there's a teacher and students in the classroom
the teacher teaches, questions are asked and notes are taken
Again and again the routine iterates
until tests and assignment dates
how hypnotic this academic tale
promising a better future, a positive fate

And a mall is a town in a cubicle
a church is a social uprising theatrical
a school is a place of worship for the tamable
...and the World a jungle for those who oppose
a haven for the ignorant, a pacific abyss for the survivors of evil. All in all a theatrical play which is a story telling itself in rewind...
Wounded in the process her development…
It is said that the FATHER – The utmost Divine – Is the True Light,
Within the original Creation Family
Now on this Earth, we have a shortage of that light
It is evident in dysfunctional families
How would you stand as a man for your family; without the FATHER’s Light?
Or commonly, how can you stand without God?

Before you were a father, you were a hunter
Hounding pretty girls in nice dresses
And then you were a lover, you had a partner, or several partners for that matter
Then came the coalescence of souls, *** in physicality as it were
She swallowed your seed and a child you did breed
You were two, now you are three
  Consequences of a rush of blood and intimacy

BUT… This all happened before the both of you could completely develop, heal all your emotional scars from childhood
And your descendant carries in her
    The streams of these emotional scars
    In a letter she wrote:

~~… Father, mother, why do you bring me onto this Earth,
The boys are cruel and I do not know how to belong
I search for love and whenever I think
I have found it, my heart gets broken
My ******* get taken as a token
I am no longer a ******, my emotions have awoken

Promises were made but never kept
I feel a huge void in my self-esteem
So I have convinced myself that being promiscuous will make me feel awesome…
At least I get taken to nice places,
Some of the guys aren't rough,
I get shoes, bags and nice clothes…
Some of them are sweet you know, they buy me cosmetics and don’t really
Rush to have  ***
Now *** I can’t get over, what is this sickness that makes me wanna
Undress, spread my legs and *** constantly?
Why do I feel the urge to taste everything my hormones respond to?

Why am I so afraid? Searching for security in material things and my glamorous reputation,
Not to mention my huge nonsensical ego
I know I am beautiful and by this I can get a lot I want from men…
But every time I am dropped off, all alone in my room, staring at the wall; I am scared and lonely
Crying is not enough
And dreaming is not enough
I want to be loved, I need to be loved
I want to be treated like a queen
I want to know that I am everything to someone
I wish that I will be someone’s breath and he my air

I want a car, a big house, trips overseas
I want kids, a strong man and a loving father.
Parents of mine, who am I?
Why am I afraid? Why was I born to see so many storms?
In truth I am just a little girl who yearns for warmth, I am just
A little girl searching for the FATHER’s Light so I can feel at home. I cannot wait to grow…~~
the first
the fists
the twists
In the misses of the mist
landing of the gists
how innocent the lips
and forming ****

A poet getting on her lists
was a mission getting her digits
So many awesome fits
With absence and being a delinquent
but thanx to lit
I would deliver an eloquent writ
her splendour had her brightly lit
Shaded by shades of the soldiers' sit
it was more than swagger, more than wit

to have her fall to bits

You'd need a magician's tricks
To score a perfect fix
If lucky to clinch an ***** kiss
to have many diss and jealousy spit
so mystery had to be involved to keep it cryptic
in and out of time vibes did tick
romance in chaos did chance flick
Left the dark ill jadedly sick
But where the wall to make the picture stick?

*** how much fun
I had been a  bun
Had to make a run
To leave the gun
And free from triggering confining puns
solve unsolvable sums
Read unwritten psalms
Savour mystic and golden palms

the first
the fists
the twists
misses in the mist
Missing on the list
shining glit
a player's kit
To keep a number hit
Save her from darker smits
and all you wanted was to love and transform her like a smith.
It began with a question
the question was in the holy bible:
"Let us make them in our image"
the question became the answer
who are they and what are we?
And whose image is it?

And to the stars I went and back into the oceans
all the while I was losing people
close family and friends
they were dying while I was flying

How life can be unfair, when we lose people and death cheers
These images of us transcending
The image itself Reminiscing about the beginning, the nostalgic tears flowing
Remembering the dysfunctional Creation family
Where brothers fought, a mother caught - in between - the father sad
and evil born thereby polarities - negative and positive
Worlds fell And an Empire rose, of deformed and malevolent souls
In death do we find home?
Or do we gravitate where we focus our consciousness?

ooh-wee! How can we trust then
with a world not promising of peace-men
The beloved being the scornful
wishing you evil and failure
the one you'd die for behind the trigger

how far does it stretch then?
Do we forgive ourselves when we die? Can we inform the living of the world's lies?
Do we get swomped in occupations; possessing mediums and manipulating situations

But here have we the living, live, funny how live is an anagram for evil
so alive would then be "for evil"
trapped in space, time, matter, religion, bodies and uniforms of the system

How can we know that the dead have gone to a better place
Death a strange thing, if you're alive and you're conscious - it's the same thing
the borders of trust wear thin
as you get betrayed by your loved one
you lose the dead and the living
you learn to appreciate those who love you
you learn to see beyond and psychic you become
you see the traces of one's soul
you acknowledge those you can trust... And you stop losing people as your loved ones become everyone.
You find divinity in tranquility, oh the little things - how gigantic they become
You learn that we are a construct of prisms, multiple selves with compartments that we call bodies
You learn that we are a branch in the atom
the closer to the core
the clearer the mirror of who we are and more
... The little things, the root, the essence, how prose and poetry clap hands___
music dancing and karma chanting
oceans ululating
> Joining the Divine
looking with Thee from a window, a view of Thee like that of a boy looking outside of a basement-room window at sunset...
like that of an old man looking down on a garden, sitting in his study
this the construct of the worlds as the tree of life would have it.

Do we truly ever die?
No present, past or future, only the moment
only fusion, no this time is not time only a continuum of here and now
This love glowing and growing
It is real?! No it cannot be confusion
This bliss that makes me hiss cannot be an illusion
For too long my feelings have been hidden, secluded
It's time I let you know, it's time I let the feeling go
Enchant me and sweep me away
Grab me and let us sway
Hello serenity and erotica, bye-bye pain
Lost in a world we do not know
Not minding how far we'll go
Touching each other's parts
Stimulating each other's heart
Tell me that you are here in the present-the future-the past... Tell me we will never part.

I shut my eyes and let my soul rise
I feel the waves of the sea, I can feel us glide
There is no captain in this love boat
Only the motion of the ocean making us float
Lost in it, however deep we may go.
In retrospect I'd inspect elements that led me to neglect
and I'd tell you you're the best and I'm not perfect
memories I collect of brief moments in secret
Never for the fore, am I cheap or is it my stature you abhor?
I was second in the first place, it left me sore
Sour I grew but I always needed more...

More of you, more of your presence
Searching for myself in you, unfurning your essence
How I enjoyed taking whiffs at your scent
How rich I felt with a few cents
Just near you and your calm excellence
Just to talk to you and say nothing at all
Just that it is you I adore

But I fail to succeed to make you mine
My wits were shy, I should've known it would always be that other guy
I kiss your absence and embrace the thoughts of you... I die. It kills me that even as time flies you cannot rhyme with I
...in this; when I say "I" you should sigh and say: "I am You"
But The demands I cannot provide and so I dive into the sea of opportunity
I calculate the odds of love, I go as an integer hoping for duality
And I find that everybody belongs to everybody but me .. I die.

And live again.
The body for fool's folly or the emotions embodied

what love is it when she breaks your spirit?
how can it be hate if she uplifts your vision and clears your intuition
what love is it when she sleeps with your friends?
how can it be infatuation if she wants to be a lover and a friend?

The gift of the presence or the present material fiscal absence

what love is it when she spends more time counting her wish list rather than counting on both of your dreams to come true?
how can it not be love when hours spent with you frees her from her insecurity bars and stares in your eyes sees nothing but stars
What love is it when all she sees herself as is an accessory and a money vacuum?
how can it not be love when all she births is a carefree environment for creativity and harmony?
can she tolerate broke spells or is she constantly thinking bells?

Altar for the ascent of stars or the attire for escape from insecurity and dive into unreal fallacy

Does she live what she says she does before she says 'I do'?
Is it the beginning of a voyage for two souls on a cosmic multi vibrationional eacapade fusing as one to experience the Divine Creator?
Does she swear to take a bullet for you or will she be the first to stab your heart from the back?
Are these two souls ready for love in a metaphorical and astrological sense?
Before the slippery wonder of incense, candles, chocolate and wine
all memories for nostalgic rewind
Is it just the wedding and not the marriage, the thorns of the rose after the dessert flower?

beyond these worldly doctrines may doctors and scientists iron
Dig and seep through to find the wisdom iron
the true meaning of love beyond what the gods of culture and age-old beliefs have wired
so we don't worry and struggle to find our spiritual ties that keep us aware and alive time and time again.
And when the sands are dry
and I am drained of all the waters that enliven
when I am limping, trembling and bleeding,
thirsty and hungry and weak
I will believe that love won't die

when I am in a hoard of immortal dark ghosts
when I am walking all alone
when the sun burns the most until it grows out of me
and when I'm falling from heights in the sky
I will know that my soul lives and love won't die

and when there is no sound from the portals of time
I will know that music lives
and when I am on hard ground I will believe that birds still fly
and when I cannot sleep, I will believe that I can swim in oceans deep
and when death smiles at me, I will know that love will not die.

And when I am dead and my body rots, I will know that it's all a ride
and when I've transcended, I will know the horizons beyond the sun
and when I've ascended, I will advance to higher frequences of knowledge
and when all evil comes after me, I will live a thousand times for love lives eternally.
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
You comfort me, my cover my blanket
Shocking how our electric bodies met
Interesting how I took you travelling
Overwhelming how you became a sheath of warmth
an epitome of hope

It is a mystery how people combine
Whether it is a case of conflicting individuals
Or the mere phenomenon of how souls pair
I need you before I meet you
I miss you and yet I forget you
Once with you I know I have what I've been looking for

My portal to higher worlds
My partner in creating new energies
It is in making love with me
How the physical eyes close and the ethereal open
Your etheric body glistening as mine charges yours
Joining the divine in creation, where those watching - entertained -
whisper words of motivation
In this centered point of fusion, lust is an illusion
Our vibration high and muse sinking as voice does sigh
Some advanced life-forms jealous and aroused
attempting to possess your body to have a piece of me
The low beings trying to possess me to evil bring

Drenched in sweat but not too wet you bring me closer our bodies frisson set
We dive into wormholes and white holes
The doors of the universe if not windows
Playing hide and seek, hearing vortex points beep
We make fire and plasma lights up
The liquids surrender to heat and speed
a connective energy created
and ******* juices exerted

This would be the end but the physical must be converted
We take a breath and sparks fly passing through the foggy smoke in the air
love is in the air and our chakras dance to rhythm adore
trust then flows and insecurity -jealous- abhors

We then talk about the nothings to avoid this wonderful something
Learning about each other we do not wish to lose one another
The Venusian Tesla would be proud of how we've done electricity justice
This science, this drug, this philosophy, this state
Time has nothing on us we cannot be late
In our future we were dreaming of our past to remember the present
so to figure out how time went

These tongues and curls I speak have me bent
Admiring the cosmic accents
Acknowleding the galactic language
Now I know what the words, "I Love You" mean
for it isn't only a noun or common thing
But a lifestyle in astral streams
A pronoun when brought to the matter world
A verb lived like a movie
A story I will never forget.
Inspire me. ****** me. Serenade me.
Send to me ******* rhythms and let
the ****** hymns play... And then the songs play as we lay.
Frank Sinatra has us on the road, Irma
Thomas telling us to be ourselves...
Love me like Aretha has never loved a
man, move me like Nina Simone, just
you and I alone. Dinah Washington says I should teach you, Etta James
warning me not to tear your clothes.
Let's play some Sarah Vaughn and
Fontella Bass. Ease me with some Diana
Krall and Dianne Reeves, swing motion
with Chris Boti. Tell me you love me Inside Out as does Shara Nelson. Let's
fall in love to Cassandra Wilson. Let us go the jungle and listen to the
bears sing, the legends of love lore...
Sing and groan; Some Isaac Hayes,
Barry White, Teddy Pendergrass,
Marvin Gaye, James Ingram, Gary
Taylor... Let them play, let them sing. And some love bees; some Betty
Wright, Angela Winbush, Regina Belle,
Sade, Marsha Ambrosius... Tone it
down on a spunky blue with some
Meshell Ndegeocello, Janet Jackson,
Laurnea, a bit of Floetry, some Incognito and Karyn White. Max it up with some Maxwell, Rahsaan,
Ralph Tresvant, Glenn Jones and Tevin
Campelle. Let's jazz it up with some Fourplay,
Brian Culbertson, Quincy Jones, Euge
Groove and Marion Meadows... Lounge
and spice it up with some Prince Alec,
Hed Kandi and Kalliope. Funk it up with some Rick James, Ten
City, Brothers Johnson and Billie
Ocean... Let us ****** and swim in the
love ocean. Making love in a Time Machine,
fading through timeless scenes
listening to stimulating music
searching for a combine that is our
fusion
Biting on some dust and swallowing colour
lush are the strips that are dripping
from the trees of chemistry
dancing to music lively, singing to
blues puzzling
beating to jazz dubbing, responding to ethereal loungy sound
music and our souls will be one
in a time machine, learning
combinations orchestrated through the
ages
We will evolve and be sages Until time linear is more sincere and
eternity for us is here. Let the music play, my bed will be a
time machine, shut never your ears
listen to the music that does play and
wipe them tears
all the drama you've been through all
these years in a second we'll be naked and
climbing stairs
we'll be invited to the kingdom of
Romance and Serindipity
You can be the Queen, I'll be King
Poetry painting neverending pictures surreal
in a world ethereal and the real will dull
feel
and forever you and I will be, if we
journey in the musical time machine.
I imagine the depth of your labour
My soul is wounded when you shed a tear
Where you would never leave us in despair
Mother no love can compare
I am at the pit of grace because of the love you share
Your love is the thread that saves us from ruin
Let it unfold and form a tapestry
That is the fashion of all things good and true
I am thankful for your love and the union
The support and conviction that you have given me
You are proof that God exists
You are the fountain that heaven does miss
And in your arms I can reminisce
Thinking about the time before I came to Earth
I remember when we bonded in your womb
I remember the kisses before I went to school
You have been a giant
They say that 'woman' is a place for weeping
I say your heart is a jewel worth keeping
Home is in you where I go when the world is unkind
You are fair and open so that we do not go about blind
How can I express the worth of you
I dare not lest I go into a trance and get lost in fantasy land
You wake me up and tell me to stand
You teach me that being a man is reflected in the work of one's hands
In your comfort and presence I am free from any prison
If I am a slave I am naive for I have your promise
The promise that dreams are true
The declaration that prosperity starts on a day brand new
MAMA I LOVE YOU.
Dear a miss who longs for a boy
Longing for my heart and not to make my ***** a toy
  I suggest our minds have to be in sync
Like you'd blink as I wink and we'd clear our kinks...

So I watch you in your daily habits, longing to look better
The truth is at the turn of the age I became a fretter
If you can climb the cosmic ladder then you can find me

So a wish I send
Bathe in melting pearls
Let my love twirl your hair like ******* curls
And you grow to love your body more
Eat well and clear the baggage in your surroundings
So a portrait or two will do so you don't feel alone

I work far away from the world so past Peace avenue I am home
That's where I'll be looking at that tree and know I am free
But I am alone so maybe a worthy lover is comforting thee
Unless you've found the green field in which case you'll know that making love is not making love unless it's with me

So be an angel then loving yourself so a reciprocal counterpoint can magnetise with you, and in that Beautiful World maybe that's where we'll meet.

*Your joy is a marvel, not the fraud superhero characters but the warrior princesses who gladiate that the world does not hear about, to gain my credit has been a bout so there's a lot of nonsense I can live without, talk soon, trust and don't doubt
It is late in the night,
you gravitate to this place without a fright
you become my midnight lover
are you a being of light, elemental, witch or vampire?

As you come, a thin whirl curls and hugs the air
your essence whispers to my soul and I know you're here
We go to galaxies and beyond
I remember the time we got mischievous and watched a Big Bang
Such a moving and disturbing sight, a blockbuster vision...
Would it be a block at all if it wasn't a molecule stored... Deep within the prism of the mirror of creation
glistening and transforming taking different forms as it becomes matter.

After the cosmology comes the fusion:
Your waves hooked on love strike my mind energy field like a lightning bolt
The smoke clears and we're in a new world again
We make love and do it justice
Stimulating Beings in Varying Dimensions
Soon after, with the vision comes conception of new worlds;
our paradise
We spend eternities gracing the beauty of light
Moving through past, present and future

Forever is ours... But for the hour, linear is my time, oh so sour
the night has to end
and soon the sun will rise again
and then you will disappear, and I will be lonely for crystal won't be my tears
I will remember you even if you were a dream, However it may seem. Oh Midnight Lover.
My Strongest, My Weakest
My strength where it be my weakness
My weakness, it seems to be my strength
Alone on a bench of thoughts
Pulling out memories as straws
******* out the moments so I don't feel numb again

Waiting for the sun to shine
At night I look for the brighest star
At home I wait for the hour of glory
I write futuristic promising romantic stories
Searching and digging into the pit of opportunity
Grinding and drilling so I can find what the world has for me
Is the rock a diamond uncovered?
Is the diamond a rock long discovered?
What good am I in a hopeless world?
How strong am I to be still standing?

I have been blinded by pride and reputation
The chances flew right past me
This was my weakness
An illusion which seemed to appear as my power
Only to allude me and send me to the depths of hunger
How do I survive in this incessant famine
My strongest, my weakest
Is my prowess both a strength and a weakness
Is my power a fist that concentrates my potential,
filters all doubts and confusion,
then send me back to a writer's rhythm?

For the muscle of me, what is love?
For the scars on my back, do tears set a heart free?
On my back are scars which smymbolize the pain
The pain caused by those who have turned their backs on me
The muscle of me a solidified lump of heated chemistry
Chemistry broke for the vision was divided
For one side a poetic love affair
Another a fling of **** and ego boost
Lies lie hidden in a black book of truce
The tears shower and the pain overshadows,
and the lies fly out and the book burns
Nothing left but hurt, resentment, hunger and thirst
A chance of love comes again and again I am underrated
Shots that succeed lack poise and weight
I levitate onto the pillars of loneliness
The trial gives me cold but also clarity
A fool never unless my heart learns to jump again and I,
I will set it free.
Is this a mere cry due to weakness?
Is it a last strike so I can find my strength again?
All is revealed and I slip into a stream
I am on the prowl once more and I will never be the same.

But soon I will find, the lines that divide
Strength and Weakness
And the balance therein
I am in it and I search for the limit... The limit within the dimensions of existence's summit.
All that was lost opens opprtun
All that was lost opens opportunities for us to find ourselves; if at least for the first time ever
All that has been destroyed begs us to question why we came here
The grotesque nature we have allowed ourselves to fall in creates an endless state of amnesia so we forget about the time when we were once divine
The more we throw stones at each other the farther we are from marble halls
The more our women give into envy and jealousy, the more they are hindered to be the treasures of gold, diamonds and pearls - exuding ethereal beauty

The more we focus on material significance, the more our souls are left begging
The more we make rash decisions with an open mind, the more we are forced to live with those consequences
The choices you are making, the choices you have made, can you live with them for ten years to come or the rest of your life?
How rich are you to afford such a hefty debt?
But this is the rhyme, the rhythm that the kingdoms have sent
down to the material world...
A hefty heifer hole and a pole for prowl; oh goal
But what about our own goals
Are we cyborgs or are we souls?
Are we going to let the insecurities of one or a few compromise our own happiness?
Why are we so uneasy, we know only attacking the centredness of another
We are enemies of peace because we are not friends of love and yet we are quick to demand mercy

Such irresponsibility!
Not taking account for the things we've done
We are afraid of mirrors because we cannot face the demons we've gowned ourselves to inhabit
And yet we can proudly call ourselves princes and princesses
Or Kings and Queens
Leaders and representatives of State


But our objectives are the complete opposite
Our deeds are the complete opposite
Our thoughts and emotions tell a complete dark story

But if you can confess to yourself the things you've done wrong then you can confide them in another
If you can confess the things you aspire to be then you are ready to break out of your shell
Once again a pure chance for us to find ourselves; if at least for the first time ever
All that has been destroyed begs us to question why we came here
The grotesque nature we have allowed ourselves to fall in creates an endless state of amnesia so we forget about the time when we were once divine
The more we throw stones at each other the farther we are from marble halls
The more our women give into envy and jealousy the more they are hindered to be the treasures of gold, diamonds and pearls - exuding ethereal beauty

The more we focus on material significance, the more our souls are left begging
The more we make rash decisions with an ooen mind, the more we are forced to live with those consequences
The choices you are making, the choices you have made, can you live with them for ten years to come or the rest of your life?
How rich are you to afford such a hefty debt
But this is the rhyme, the rhythm that the kingdoms have sent
down to the material world...
A hefty heifer hole and a pole for prowl; oh goal
But what about our own goals
Are we cyborgs or are we souls?
Are we going to let the insecurities of or a few compromise our own happiness?
Why are we so uneasy, we know only attacking the centredness of another
We are enemies of peace beacuse we are not friends of love and yet we are wuick to run after mercy

Such irresponsibility
Not taking account of the things we've done
We are afraid of mirrors because we cannot face the demons we've gowned ourselves to inhabit
And yet we can proudly call ourselves princes and princesses
Or Kings and Queens
Leaders and representatives of state


But our objectives are the complete opposite
Our deeds are the complete opposite
Our thoughts and emotions tell a complete dark story

But if you can confess to yourself the things you've done wrong then you can confide them in another
If you can confess the things you aspire to be then you are ready to break out of your shell
Once again a pure soul.
Until you've accepted all you've lost you won't be able to have the wherewithal to dig deep within yourself to create a new world and a new you. Moving on allows new avenues to open up.

THE SONG TP THE POEM Titled: "GRATEFUL DOR AFRICA" _

Listen to 01 Grateful For Africa by MOMEANT on #SoundCloud
https://soundcloud.com/omentplays/grateful-for-africa/s-3WGgn?ref=clipboard&p=a&c=1
The problem is not with the problem,
It’s that you don’t listen.
The issue is with the wound I carry
It is the neglect and egotistical dissipation
The ignorance and obscure character disposition
It is in your complacency and self-righteousness
I AM YOU INNER CHILD, CAN YOU HEAR ME?
Or have you grown too macho to surrender to your sensitivity
How many times I’ve cried, waiting for your attention
How many times you have been of disservice,
I have evolved into a numb and heartless rock
I no longer have the frivolity and freewill to levitate
It is I who chokes your rhythm when you hesitate
It is me taking a cold shower when you are embarrassed
The breath of you takes away my reasons to live
I AM YOUR INNER CHILD, CAN YOU HEAR ME?
No? But I have so much to say
I have been wearing this forlorn contusion  
Even when I talk it is not a discussion
You have marred me to become bitter and resentful
Gone is your passion, you are submerged in your job
Gone are your dreams, you have focused on that promotion
Love has been jaded by your promiscuity
What happened to loving one person in a million ways?
You are a servant of the social mirror and its constraining chains
Dancing to the dictatorial piano that plays and plays
Where models are defined you are a written face
The beats come together picturesque but grotesque
For you are more about maintaining the picture on display
What is in your heart has bowed to despair

I AM YOUR INNER CHILD, CAN YOU NOT HEAR ME?
I am drenched by the sweat of your incessant grind for material
Can you not understand that this has left me hysterical?
Surrealism suggests that as partners we should yearn for the ethereal
Free me from child abuse
Free me from bad news
Free me that I can choose
Free me that we can fuse
Free me to sign a treatise of truce
So I can be the inner child you love and don’t confuse
So that we can be free to try new things
So that we can rise above dogma and play strings
So that we can ride the giant phoenix, on its soft merriment wings  
…. And I will be the child in whom you confide and pay mind and find signs of truth in our stride, we won’t hide for we won’t be blind but kind in humility like we never lied and be free from the twigs that had us tied to a tree of no-open-mind and one we’ll be in time… I the child in whom you confide to find the prize of life.
I remember *** like a past life time
I remember love like a fresh knife wound
I have sensations in these pages
Scribes of feelings and dumb poetry

Loneliness is a privilege
Here I get to feel terrible and awesome at the same time
Listen to the passing moments of continuum
Reminisce about the times of delirium

Sinking deep into the uncaring
the wan zombie-state
are corpses wrong to often blink?
I go to the bar where dead men drink

here the waiters (waiting to pass on) influence the living
manipulating their lives
confusing their consciousness
I thought there were no psychos in heaven
but I stepped into a brothel of dead men

The wicked sell *** for reincarnation
The non-malicious offer *** to those willing to gravitate in altered heights of vibration
.... I could be just numb, listening to the lowly succubi whispering dark tales
I see no fairies, it cannot be a fairy tale, this could just be a personal astral conversation.
Such ****** and passion,
intricate pictures we cannot imagine
Devoid of self, utter surrender
plunge into the streams of your soul
Finding the hot wires,
forming strings so we can find home
Not having a memory of what it means to be alone
Ode, to you, Love I say

It is not so much the words posted, but the context condensed
How you unwrap the figures textual 'til they make sense
It is not so much the touching and cuddling
but the invisible electricty of extrasensory connecting
It is not so much the breath on my neck as you reach in to kiss me
But the etheric messages of wind telling me you miss me
We have had a try to attempt to twist this style
To find the spiraling curls in prose
To dissect the detailed aerial strips of the scent of a rose
Ode, to you, Love I say

Poetry is forever
pottery forms artifacts of clay but do they stay?
This sweet ode paints a picture that will remain
in the drawers of eternity...
I cannot lie, it has been something of a frailty
my pursuits of love have quieted my frivolity
I have since been calm, playing an instrument imaginary
Waiting for a tone that will help me find my tune
You are that song that ends too soon
Ode, to you, Love I say

Just echoes and epiphanies
voices and mellow claps singing into me:
Ode, to you, Love I say
on this day a heart will not break
but will be strong and find its way.
By chance comes this luscious bliss, has sadness finally hit the twist? Are you mine for the while? Am I a fool passing by?...
You believe in love and magic, you fear the reality tragic, You are open to things new, catch you a drifter where winds blew, you sing me a song brand new... You are a shining daisy, only hoping to be treated like a lady... By chance comes this bliss, has sadness finally hit the twist?
Are you mine for the while?
Am I a fool passing by? Do you believe in the glaring heavens? Do you know of blazing trees? With you I wish to share memories, Here is our song sing it to me.
Ink boiling, pure thought toiling
Vibrational frequency high taking us to the place of all knowing
Would shadows and dust leave us pale when we do not trust the rhythms lush?
Best we trust this echo speaking volumes of rough diamonds and crystals
Poet's Society, a kingdom of advanced beings, trusted messengers of Light beings
Spreading the truth to the world beyond what the eye sees

Arousing godesses, yes deities, over eighteen
Caressing the vapour of waterfalls
shaking the tips of mountain peaks
massaging the waves of lakes and leaves -
all in thought.

Poet's Society, a pilgrimage of enlightening
Recepients of complex thought forms from sacred future stations
The poets, stars, prisms and mediums - the tether between the seed of Creation and young races elevating
Evolving, their hunger deep, their sense (dull) of belonging
Voyagers they are taking you to the moon, the sun, stars - galaxies high above  
The Keepers of Ancient Timeless Wisdom
The Monks who are always on song in a world out of tune
Omniscient beings seeing the seed and creed of all being
Searching for the fruits of life in gardens where the darkness has taken over
The time-travellers, the creators, the aid of knowledge seekers
The poets who live in Poet's Society
In Temples of sacred Wisdom
in multiple bodies carrying out missions
The poet's eye is the vision, the picture of television; division
Feel it within intuition for it is a call to the see Light for which many are wishing... And it is poets who are on the mission.
Speak the truth and the lies burn out of your life, termites and dust mites shout screaming out because of the fumed existence and pandemonium of the right accord of good things coming into your life

From the time the Creator Parents disobeyed the Law of One, The Father of the Universe has set out to create an Army or Allegiance to help Him polarize back to other Creator Parents, His Brothers, so to return to the Sound and True Light of  FATHER, to be embraced in the arms of Mother, HAROON, to trade tricks with the Priest Son, RAJ.   Many efforts have been made throughout the aeons to achieve this.

This Army then, some might call the Justice League, The Thunder Tribe, The Eliminators, The Time-Travelling Angels, and so on, have been going out to galaxies incarnating as the most common life-form there. On Earth, the conditions have been symbolic with many imbalances, lies, evils, greed and corruption.

Now because these beings or soldiers had given up their own will, what is called freewill, to serve a Higher Purpose; their assignments or missions on the planets they incarnate make for a refined and rapid understnading of life and thus at most, they die very young. They return to a more spiritual state than when they had first incarnated.
There is a story about such an angel who was a reverand who incarnated into a rich human family that owned trucks. So as he grew up he had lessons learned from his home planet ringing at the back of his head, he taught humans humanistic values, to turn the other cheek which means enduring circumstances really, being selfless, earning an honest living, reaching out to higher levels of vibration through doing good deeds one day at a time and treating the body as a temple.

Now because not all humans are the same or at the same dimension and process of spiritual evolution, some students who had been respecting these teachings that stem from the Law of One were progressing in spirituality and were basically living their dreams, it was then up to them to warn about disregarding those laws. Because humans have flaws, some members of this Higher Learning were growing jealous and some dropped out and stopped attending, resorting to having money to salvage their insecurities, having lustful engagements with multiple women to avoid loneliness and the worship of materials to absolve their incompleteness.  

Others were unfair such that they suggested that learners who had earned their colours or accolades be stripped off or not duly compensated and recognized and instead work for them so they can complete their own missions with which they were struggling. See it is important to stress that while these angels were selfless and generous they did not come to wipe the buttocks of impatient, foolish, selfish, irresponsible and greedy men. Those who were done, it was good for them they moved closer to the heavens and experienced the paradise the best parts of their hearts had always dreamt.

It was not a competition of sorts but for like of understanding, it can be seen as a race, drivers, runners or combatants on a track to reach the eternal lap where they live their destinies and eat from the fruits of immortality in the secret garden of heaven. In a prospect it can be seen as an attempt to find Eden. Because it is not a competition, merely a progress taking place at different paces, places, phases and environments. Those who had done well and were competent to ride at the next wave and dimension simply went there to continue in their learning, a cascading journey of life, on Earth or in the Afterlife, once they were done they became immortal and lived outside of time which meant they then waited for those who were still coming.  Oracles have it that this angel-soldier, Julo, chose a truck family because this family had an influence to change the way cars would drive, ~cars being the wings of angels in reality~, not only that but roads would be preserved so the riders would see clearly where they were going and how much length or path and time they had left; the awareness of this creates an urgency to learn about important principles and values in life, so then creating gates to divinity and pathways for the life-forms of that realm to live out their purpose and find refuge which is the home in heaven.

With this understanding it was acknowledged that when lovers become parents, the children weren't obliged to be the replay of their parents' lives, in other words props for their parents to act out a story until they could find perfection. It was a wave or energy field that would allow humans to experience divinity throughout all 14 dimensions, transforming into angelic beings once they reach 15, this was a re-Genesis of Heaven. To finally find the Resort and learn the mistakes that occured when Cosmic Mother, Callia was preganant with Artola. It was about the Ark of the Covenant, The Challice, The Holy Grail... Divinity, Beauty, Love. Liberty of Lifelihood
The Order of Life.

Musical Inspiration: _ Patrick 'O Hearn - Beyond This Moment
The hands that stretch, the feet that glide. The ability to see, the strength to withhold vision. 

I was stuck in shades of dark and filth. I was burning in the passion of the sun. I heard a truth that spoke life. I heard an angel say dive. I took a chance hoping I would fly. I jumped thinking I would bounce. The fall was humanity and life announced. 

I fell into an ocean of truce. I found creatures bad and good. It was a war, a fight for power. They were corrupt lifelings looking to be kings. They felt like gods eluded by the ring. The ring that controls all things. The orchestrators of lies that ****. **** the freedom of the mind. The orchestrators of a world that enriches so-called kings. Blasphemy is the order of this world. Pain this world brings. A world of treacherous kings but all nothing without the power. 

What was the power? 
A spoken idea 
a woman 
a lump of gold? 

It was the fear! The fear instilled in souls so to inhibit freewill and limit conduct. The power that tarnishes the human soul. The power that bars the mind and hides the truth that one must face. The truth is his identity, the success of his identity is serving his purpose. The realisation of his purpose is dependant upon his surroundings. Surroundings are walls that limit his will and remind him that all he can be is nothing. The fallacy that man is the illusion and the kings are the truth. 

Scaling walls, browsing I saw that they were fighting. Protecting an order. Fighting for a world of lust, confusion and weakness. Where the kings are gods and the weak slaves. 

I spoke once and said that I am the vision and the truth I speak to the weak that need healing. I have body armour but no weapons. I have a reason to fight but no weapons. I have weapons but no army. I have an army but the soldiers have tainted minds, no feet and only one arm. An arm that remains stationary, ***** and held together. It was the fist that represented the power to stand. The fist that represents immortality. I found hope, I found belief in the little weaponry that lay in my hands. The invisible truth I protect is the heart of my soul. Embracing I know I am what is real, Embracing I acknowledge the dangers of reel, Embracing the truth I know that I am the power and the power is me. 

I opened my eyes and saw the world as the waking of the day when the sun rises. I found relief in knowing that I am no longer hiding for this power is for fighting. Fighting for the will, fighting for man to be free. 

I leave the place that was confining, I leave the dust where souls burnt hide in, I scale these walls and glide, I use this power of liberation to display the truth that so many saints have protected. I allow the showers of the night to heal these wounds that leave me infected. I stand in refuge, I am a ghost, I am a soul, I am man, I am the power.
Of the 100 Series
The stars I cannot reach, they're as far as the pastor on the pulpit as he'd preach. They're as vague as mother's speech when she'd teach
Prison walls concealing me. High walls confining me
Caged in a cubicle, I'm a boisterous being
I'm at a den
I'm the lion and the prey
Words slap me back as I pray
It's a wrestling match between myself and my demons

Where if higher I'd have  undeniable intellect and reason
I am a slave of hope and a sorry case for dreams
When will I leave this place where they took my life away
Was it so horrible that crime that with my life I had to pay?

Prison bars I draw the energy and strength of the steels as I hold
I am getting out of this place wise and bold
Sunrise reminds me of regret, how I let them take my life away,
How I had to be militant,
unyielding and fight on the day
Prison bars fade so I can see the way
Rain or shine I have only pain and sorrow to claim as mine

It's a dark place in which cries echo and songs of weeping are sung
There was a number of men singing songs of sore souls and I heard the heartbeat of a woman

Moments still live and I levitate, my heart cascades and the memory remains firm and thorough,
the memory of love, the unity of family, the memory of amiability and brotherhood
The memory of the forgotten wars and the terror of crippled minds
What weapons have I to save a dying legacy?

Prison bars acknowledge the vocal emotion that is within me and free me
Yield as you realise they can't take my soul
Yield as you notice that a home could heal
Surrender for I have a worldly good in store
Shake and dither as the beating of my heart makes you uneasy
Break down as I refuse to stay down
Melt as I cry out tears as hot as lava
Give me a chance to find a lover
Prison bars give me chance to create another

I hear the wings of a bird flapping and I remember the breath of life
The song that faith inspires lives again
I sound deafening noises that eradicate the constriction
I hold it firmly til it comes crumbling down
It is an army of a new generation
Soldiers who have souls
Prison bars fall down to the floor
It is a tale it is folklore
There's more to life than death; I die no more
In a confinement concentration the first time you see somebody stabbed, *****, guards attacking the captives, blood sports: you lose yourself
The fifth time, seventeenth time you see it you just spit
Over time certain tortures and inflictions of pain
Violent acts that you witness  make you lose emotional response
You feel so much pain that many things don't hurt anymore
You become numb

They make you a monster and then they blame you for revolting
They take you through  malevolent thought-forms that they orchestrate consciously and blame you for becoming a monster
Who is the real monster?
The wise will tell you; the boys in the kitchen-the chemists
Rehabilitation centres? More like dehumanization camps for creating mind-controlled slaves and social vegetables
Jail desensitizes.
Your glistening eyes surprised by
fear's demise... You're ready to engage
your body, I must lay you and enter but
not yet... First I make you wet, kissing
you from lip to belly. Your ******* get
hard and your heart starts beating heavy.

You are getting hot, I am stroking you
around your ilium crest, the juices start
gushing and alive is the zest, I pin my
finger on your venus. Move it in and
out, in and out. You breathe tenderly,
musical rhythms... And finally I enter and our bodies are one dither.
This poem was actually a chat.
Before I went digital, it was the pencil to paper lyrical

Before I went digital, it was the pencil that led through the led to find sense in the sentence

Before I went digital, my fingers went hysterical, it was an algorithm analogous to stay primitively liberal

Before I went digital, putting anything on screen was criminal - so the lens of my iris was the only visual

Before I went digital, the rush crucified the wood of my pencil like they would lynch blacks on trees for being cynical

Before I went digital, everything was a drawing of the critical - like mining coal my product had fruit and multiplied like the Adam and Eve spirituals

Before I went digital, I had literacy that took my literature to the actual cultural and literal.

Raw days were the utmost poetrical, all this before I went digital.
The night is young, most lights are out. You're a sad one if at the end of the night you are without. You fail to flash flair if you dare have doubt. It's the nightlife and there are multiple exchanges. It's wild, the young are free and they don't fear the dangers.

The saaz hop pops and the syrups drop. Jack is swallowed, Daniel follows and sons feel like paps. The captain is shot down and Johnnie leads the way so even in the morning they'd keep walking. It's a feminine thing at the Red Square when joy and tears are shared. All feeling bubbly they smoke on hubbly. They reach their destination when the Three Ships land at the breeze of the Southern Comfort. The boys walking down the streets reeling say hi time and time again - but it sounds like Heineken. It is a thriller, she Miller, when she sinks and the body turns into an ocean.

These syrups, energizer potions, inspire wilderness. They get loud and walk proud as friend and he have fine girls for the night found. Scream "uhm-I'm still" for it is the beverage that tells - it is Amstel. High and drunk, in loose mode, the thought reeling in mind is "take off clothes" - play with pole. Sleep with the girl that he has stole. Stories of old, not for folks (only amongst peers are told). It is he weak a man, he who chokes. He who can't make it to the morning.

Drunk emotions are starting, it's time to head for the bed. And all the while, the thought reeling through their minds as they move side to side, is that it was no fantasy and conclusion that reel is real
*One from the 100 collection. If you're into making poetry with alcohol and the nightlife, you might enjoy this.*
To write and communicate a message is a privilege
I have been recently learning about the true meaning of music
and you know much like in books, it is a communication process
or a conversation, if you will.




The writer's pen is on a marathon to catch the chariots of fire
Ascending and transcending; documenting, I feel the passion of the ART
I breathe in the good and exhale vowels and consonants
Showered with uncommon common sense, I feel the love bleed
I am taken on these heavenly steeds and I observe galactic creeds

A Harmony of colonies surrounds me, and I know that Divinity lives
There are Pirates and all sorts of thieves, who wear cloaks and carry knives
But not the steel cutting kind but the soul-piercing blinds
In a place of truth and clarity, The Angels will souls find
and Heaven is a place next door
Above the skies we will soar
They will choke and abhor those who do not conform with God's Norm
But The Divine Creator loves us all, so they too will heal and come into their rightful form

With these goals crested in bars of gold, I remember poetry
Though the posts may seem blurry at first but I remember poetry
I may die some day if not today but I will carry the floetry
I may decay and my contempt or bad reputation may dissipate but I flow with Poetry
In the shadows of dust and darkness where forlorn hope may be the only globe, I shine with the Els and its forebears, the Titans of old

Never arrogant but always present and grateful, I remember poetry
Shackled and wrestled, beaten and butchered, I remember poetry
The meanings channeled on a carousel, I decipher and thank poetry
With the last word a sword to bore nonsensical  spores where imbalance tore, I REMEMBER THAT POETRY IS MY HOPE. And God Knows, if not I'll show and worthy of anything; that which is due will be bestowed. I REMEMBER POETRY.
"Although

many of us consider black to be a color, black is actually
defined as the absence of color, hence, Darkness is a place which is the
absence of the FATHER's Light." - Peter R Farley - Where Were You
Before The Tree Of Life - The True History of The Darkness and The Light



It is close to being headless, to be without a father

and how and where do we investigate who or what the responsible force
is?...

It is simply a recurring method, divide and rule

Here in the matrix you have black, brown, white and yellow races

in some places not made famous you have orange and red and blue races

So what is colour? The texture of light perhaps

So then, what is black?



Nothing, void. So then how does one refer to a whole race as nothing?

it's really simple, where there is nothing there has to be something

so the something is revered and valued as significant

and what about the nothing? Well the nothing will be made to serve the
something
But was is not from the void that worlds were created? From thought, now
thought an important factor for the nothing would be denigrated to such
an extent as to not be able to think
so from this comes an inferior race and a supercilious race
Not to blame the supercilious race for it too was manipulated into
having high esteem -
so where are the parents?

You find a black and a white wrestling unconcious of the fact that they
could consciously be cousins
In simple terms, if we are all Light then we stem from the same tree
however with polarization or dualty find we lower degree
and this state imprisons us to hate one another for one reason or the
other

And it is within memory that black and white races have been fighting
for millenia
With this, both races would boast a pride and a willingness to defend
one's culture at all costs
But then as children when do we grow and gather the gods in one room to
hear their views and differences?
When will we rise above demographics to save the human race?
and beyond other races being exploited throughout the galaxies
What would we learn if these members of Councils and Houses were
gathered in one room?
Would we learn that this universe is not perfect?
But then what is perfection?
Hyperthetically, an idea of supremacy and completeness which sets the
standards that all things and people should conform to... That is, as
far as the powers  define

It is a responsibility to search within our hearts for what is true and eternal
It is a choice we make to be continually affected by the sicknesses of society
It is a voluntary action to uplift the houses that govern however sincere and well-meaning they may appear
however promises are never kept and human beings taken for granted
It is a soul's obligation to yearn for its liberty such that we too, as Ascended Masters, can graduate and become Renaissance Man.
Wall build me breadth
Spiritual soldiers save mine breath
Trials strengthen me to solid stance
Positive energies lead me to Light trance

Floors carry me that I fly on these ruins for ground
Beautiful and lovely leaves send me a breeze sound
I hope the emotion created will condense in my soul
Comfort me that warmth may be my own
So I can quickly forget what it means to be alone
Healing me that I may know home
We can do mathematics. I'll simplify
your reasons to kiss me, subtract
doubt, add charm, multiply seduction,
root hope and equate your ****** with
mine.
It is a duty I serve
to control my self
and conceal my character,
to muster the wisdom and
be a master of my own world...
To gather knowledge of experience (hindsight)
and the intuitive knowledge (foresight)
- amass the synergy of it all
which is the memory I embrace (insight).

So I become wise
and don't think twice
about choices that may lead to my demise;
compelling me to revise
efforts that revolve around the negating dice.
And I'll fight
lest I pay the price
of not respecting my living right!
And what is the purpose of a writer if not to enliven?
and colour the languid abyss with purity and essence,
one would wonder where these crazies called writers get their conviction and composure
Perhaps writers are the excrement of The Divine's Ears peeling off and Its Voice choking...

From this, probably, we are able to identify the humanity within another
drawing from a celestial innate sensitivity to be the scribe
a scribe for those who have lost the sense of feeling
oh feeling, if writers would be able to overcome neurosis themselves.

And again there's a connective intimacy about reading,
you shake hands with someone you've never met
Like taking a train to Neverland
and you learn just how small the world is
And in Writing, as a writer, you are reaching out and talking to people you may never meet
but the poetic artistry is that we rejoice in an unsung hymn: a hymn of harmony
and unity.


Some inspirational Minds:
Stephen R. Covey
Richard Branson
Mike Lipkin

Recent Literary Influences:
Anton Chekov
Franz Kafka
Richard Wright
Carson McCullers
  
Here's to the fusion of Literature, the furtive time-and-space travel phenomenon.
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.
She whispers sweet I love you's without me having to be loud about 'attend me, I am here'
She sings softly that she misses me
She reaches out fearlessly and her ego or significance has nothing to do with it
It is just about how we can both coalesce in this soul consceince where hearts cohere to beat at one rhythm sincere

She evens because there are no silent replies, she understands the scribe because there are no hidden agenda's
It is not about what I have or what she has but what we both can make
Her third eye awakes and her halo crystallises; a new christening has been fated
She has flown into the rays of Haroon and shone pure light for Maroon so in marrying our creation objectives; the law of one is not forgotten too soon

We find each other through miles and kilomatters of distance
But in this instance we start a conversation and it's not that so the others can look at her as supercilious but because she exemplifies that the romantic bubble surreal is us
Orbs in an age of pages where the world reads again
For this she is a day anew in the evening
For this she shines the night sky with her longing for sensuality overshadowing lustful and baseless sexuality
In the morning she is the snow warm and golden
Her scent is my token and for this Fathers of yesteryear are awoken
  The fear to love is broken
   Sheaken by the *******, the dark is curled and the Doa has a do now
It feels right we go with it, seal it with a kiss
  Heavenly clouds, her ****** might just be the new symbol of how you clothe bliss
   For a time this emotion that has been poeted has found its moment that has awoken memories of a time when women loved
  A new shell beautufied, CalliaTee new you are a dove.
Song to track Transcendence: 'Blank and Jones - I Love You'
It's been an age and a day
Only to hear you say:
"I eve you long time to love me in my prime
my prevoius hurts a crime"
A dime to my cosmic mine you shine
So fine as I dreamt; your body laid supine after lime lives in lemon and spirit waters spring in your senses
Emotions awakened and futures are embraced
Your embrace is such grace and your face such a view to the pre of love I come uncove as I kiss this dove
Oh my What a time.

A moment has been paused
Memories of divinity spin in a dance
All that was frozen melts in a new day, we gaze at each other in a new way
We debut as a duet and Romeo finally finds his spine to Due Juliet her flower's bloom
Crimson and clover only feel pure when sober
Ebony and ivory a golden tapestry in the view of the hour glass
But you know this if you go to class and find the hidden rainbow in the jazzed spirals razzmatazz
So respecting time we glide after we gladiate into the new guide and it's a gig find after gregarious grind
So I'm bound to give thanks to the chance

How did I know that the moment would be a spinning memory in the akashic  spheres of time
Archiving beautiful rhyme and justly destined rhythm to flow the Conscious and Integrating Cause from the Source of Creation
Having been fully loved and having fully loved after incessant love wars
Masses did they the guy fighting for the law of one abhor
Now the old blunt saw is a see-saw as we can watch who we have been through the picture of love
And dear soldier of love I would like to say
You now stand as a Sol-Soul dioded through notes of justice and truth
Let your positioning be the start of great things to come
All things being a progress, life is in our hands
Learn to respect life and all souls... And you will be a happy person.
Eileening a new age, you are now gowned anew after the timeless chariot race of slave no•61
_She stands, so womanhood will no longer be the hub of the mess as an outlet amass
As you now know, show them how to dress.
Inviting the true to be good and the future.
the truth falls on deaf ears
atrocities make mutes
the illusion blinds the faint hearted
putting your nose knee deep into reality might make you lose your mind
never forget who plays a hand in the steps you take so always hit rewind
remember every breath you take is a chance to touch a soul consciously
awake to the sleep that has many hypnotised
lies are told to keep the truth in the dark so open the book of secrets and be bright.
slegde home the edge of reason
I am living in the live elements vivified
calling on psalms a bang a ****
play a song by the resuscitations of Ong
Overwhelmed  by the awe of past life sores so
stupified

I will die one day but days will still be days
I speak truth and I'm crucified but the truth is still the truth
I will martyr my wisdom to call back ancestors from the Orbs of the Seven Sisters homes
Harbor my dreams to sail onto the pilgrimage of distant seas

Darkness is consistent in a world that doesn't calm and listen
Confused and conflicted the world is blinded by lies so masses pick pistols
Serving not ego, reputation or title
but living in the truth in forbidden scriptures of the Law-of-One Bible
Sages page the mystery concaves of Andro-Adam slaves
but human  we be  at the false matter image we see
but for truths ethereal we seek for in Light as souls we gleam
Transcending the send-in of the soldier that is, more than publicly king
So gods of old purge with indignation as the clarity you've seen

In quiet and peace of mind seas you swim
So much you'd dream and life begins
birthing a generation of free - thinkers and artistic beings
Colour in darker shades where you'd save the ink on paper to post the message
So many travels you're willing to envisage
pictures or stars, sculptures or music bars
taking our souls that far.  

I slip a stream
curl the dark into a bright dream
So many scenes of souls out of the love and mercy sea.
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