I'm random, I know
But random is something that I appreciate being... and that's why I grow
As I maximise my verbal flow
Without thinking, much more powerful than speaking
This written stuff never fails to show
That I can go... to lengths
No poet has ever gone before
More for the sake of being real to myself, than for show
Different is how I go about it
Hard to concieve just how I would ever be able to flow without it
This 'random'
This thing that I do
As I put forward my thoughts to you
Always true, never overdone
I would emphasize on two true points, before I ever trip over one
Infact, I would never trip over one
Because I don't lack this... thing they call skill
Product of a combination of practice... and ill will
Crazy is what some may call it
Phase me?... No, none may foil it
My plan
Still remains greater than
The majority... words dripping with controversy and personality
On another level, who's talking equality?
I don't overthink
And still express it to the brink
My idea
With no fear
Get it clear
It's real poetry going on right here.

Uhuru Kenyatta... entertaining, eloquent... and we all know he smokes ****... did not vote for him, but I congratulate him and I'm excited about the idea of having him as my president for the next five years.

Cheers Uheezy...

This man stood in the dark* *(He stood in the light)
This man had no idea what to do with the light (He had made it through the night)
For so much time had gone by since dusk (He was free... a seed, ready to grow, that has shed its outer husk)
He had spent one too many hours in ‘fright’ (Not to be confused with being ‘about to flee’… he was ‘about to soar’, ready to take flight)
Too much time had gone by since he’d gotten lost in the night (And it all came naturally, everything just sort of… felt right)
He’d taken the same wrong path he swore he would avoid (He’d avoided a path that he knew so well, one that was… of all serenity, devoid)
That same mistake over and over again, he was frustrated… annoyed (Some would call it a ‘near miss’, he calls it a ‘near crash’… because he nearly crashed and missed, he was overjoyed)

**The previous man… a broken record, a repetitive mistake, an irritating stutter
Just for the record, the previous emotional clutter… seems much less appealing than the organized latter
And the obvious better option for me... for you
Is to work extra hard at being guy number two.

I stand aside sometimes
And await my punishment
Await my flogging
The consequences of my actions
I know I've been bad
I've lied to myself so, I have been had... by me
But that false reality, for a second, filled me with so much satisfaction
I stand aside, stand out of my own way... so I can see
The ability to be in denial to myself is one that I lack, that character is hardly me
And so, I stand aside sometimes, turn my gaze inward, and look inside at times
Correct my wrongs
The rhythm somehow kind of went off key
Re-write these songs
These bad ideas come in crowds... in throngs
These crazy things that we conjure up
That flow freely
**** this tap
Will never stop giving
When will it dry up?

I read an ad recently
‘Get your Valentine’s day hampers while they last, order in advance lest you be disappointed’
But what I really read was…
'Get your Valentine’s day humpers while they last, order in advance lest you be disappointed’
Because I’m a clown like that
I make light of this day ‘Valentine’s’
The fourteenth day of the second month of every year
That makes everyone realize how attached or alone they are… really, I find that the most stupid fear...
Is the fear of not being paired up… yet
I say ‘yet’ because it’s going to happen sooner or later, more than once
Like it has happened before
But oh, you want to sulk and sob in your depressingly darkish room… behind the self made prison that is your closed door
Because you just want to wallow in self pity… because you're so low
Forever alone
Call me a *****
And a realistic one at that I like to think
But I find this entire obligation to have someone on this day quite unnecessary… which makes me kind of curious
As to who is really authentically ‘in’ love
And who is apparently “in love” for convenience reasons
These self made prisons
I joke through this day… with female friends, my true Valentines
No charades, no pretentious antics
Just funny nonsense with the coolest, realest fun chicks
To all those that have their better halves… well "power to you"
Way to go, we’re happy for you
You probably enjoy the most out of this day ‘Valentine’
I didn't mean to sound conceited… for we are all allowed to court
To be arrested by passion, maybe I’ll get past these ‘flings’ and also have my day in court…
Yeah, maybe someday I will have mine
Again.

Feel the urge
The need
To stealthily glide through the night
To 'feed'
Allow my instinct, to gracefully move me
I'm the main character in my own vampire movie
A potential threat to society
Like a psycopathic sixteen year old just released from juvie
The difference is
My charm pulls you in, attracts you
Before the predator in me violently attacks you
I'm a hunter, masculine not feminine
It's my night
I stalk prey, so I can't afford to sparkle
This isn't "Twilight"
I'm the deadliest fantastic legend
Or so they think
But what if I was real?
I'd  be "Blade"
Edward Cullen is gayer than "Pink".

I used to be passionate about my music
So passionate
I fear I’m waning now
I’m still as good, still practice… and can still do it better than the average emcee
But I fear I’m waning now
The rush I would get when I stepped into the booth… or into a rap battle
I don’t feel it so much these days
I fear it is becoming mechanical… becoming just something I can do… and less something I itch to do
I fear I’m losing interest
‘I fear’ this because I cannot afford to lose interest
This is my life
How does one go on without his identity?
I lift my hands in the air and pray to He that is the supreme entity
I cannot be this good and not enjoy every second of it
I live, breathe… I am hip hop
I simply love it
But I fear I'm waning
Even though I'm still recording
Been at this for so long my heart is getting cold
The ***** is frosting
How much longer can I keep this up?
This is getting exhausting
I need a break… I need to break free
This gift is beginning to feel like a curse
The frustration might just break me
The progress, if any, is so slow
I’m afraid I might be hitting the wall… I just don't know no more.

‘The world around me
All this random stuff getting hurled around me
People getting burned around me
Life seems pretty hard… around me
I’m the observer, that fly on the wall
The observer, still on the wall watching everything around me crumble
Watching everyone fall
The one that’s unnoticeable, like the extra in a movie
A constant extra though, immovable… as much as these events really move me
I watch and wait…
And wait for what?
A change, I think
I think I’ll change…
Tact
And do something about it
But will it really make a difference?
My Input that is
Or, will it make no difference?
Would everything remain the same, with or without it?
I still sit still on the wall, if flies can do that, ‘sit’ on a wall
Considering moving over to the windowsill and watching this downfall
Of society, of the world around me
Financial downfall as well as social, not to mention moral
On second thought, maybe I’ll just hang back... and do nothing at all
For if I have learned anything from our leaders, it is that
Any input is…
Optional
Seasonal
Not to mention conditional
For to do anything about this without any profit or benefit in sight…
Well, that would just be plain impractical.’

"Fatma Hemed Hanzwan"
Yep... yep... Hemed, that's one
Way to refer to yourself
By name
But then again, there aren't  any particular rules
To this game... called 'life'
Society elevates you to a level of 'cool', by bestowing upon you a nickname
What's your's?
I wonder...
Then you may adopt a man's last name, when you become his wife
There aren't any particular rules to this game called 'life'
"Why do I say that?" you may ask
See, life can be a pleasure... or a task
Depending on whether you sway with the crowd every 'all of a sudden'
Or decide to independently walk down the path less trodden
Upon
Tough one?
My point is...
You need not be defined by that which you answer to
Define your own self and identity...
Assert 'you'
Once you've thought freely, you've let go and such
Fatma Hemed Hanzwan
Few names I've come across sound as beautiful as that.

A cold warmth
A warm cold
A comforting embrace from the Almighty
A reassuring gesture that shouldn't be taken lightly
When God talks, He needs no words
Even on long walks, the journey becomes less hard
When He takes your hand, and walks you through
As long as you stay real, sincere and true
He drops you hints, a subtle clue
And watches... when you winced, He knew
A warm cold
A cold warmth
The wind around speaks of blessings bound
To come
Inspires you to meditate... to hum
And fear, it shrinks up like washed up cotton
Your destiny is so on point, you're "spot on"
As much as the last few steps to the peak may seem hard
Remember... when God speaks to you, He needs no words.

I think poets are aliens… from another planet
I mean, we must be
You have to be off your rocker to get it, to understand it…
I mean, is it just me…
That sees it?
The way we took grammar, complicated as they made it...
And blew the rules to the wind, we decided to ‘breeze’ it
We made up our own… and as a sensible man...
I can say, they don’t even need to make sense
Because they are what they are… poetic and intense
I really think we are not human though… I'm being serious about this
We go around seeing through a third eye
I know because I am about this
And we are crazy I tell you
We see the art in everything
We probably came up with the phrase ‘an about kiss’…
Or an 'almost kiss'… whatever
‘It’s either a kiss or it’s not, it’s as simple as that’...
The rest of society thinks… oh, but the poet would have none of that
We are weird I tell you
Us artistic types
We open our minds to anything and everything
We even befriend the mystic types
We would take it there… or allow our curiosity to take our minds anywhere
We would experiment to a point where we’re tripping out
We would… and you know it, just as long as it’s something to write about
This creativity thing is like a super power… **** it!
I rest my case… arrest me and take me back to my mother planet.

We are a dangerous lot
We play a dangerous game
We know this…. But keep at it all the same

We are wild, not tame
We roam this vast, wild, sometimes friendly… sometimes unfriendly… plain
This sun scorched wilderness, this rough terrain

We get to carry a burden, such a heavy load
To work our way up the food chain
Life is a ragged road

To stand up and face a predator
While still preying on vulnerable prey
This is how it is, the law of the jungle

This line doesn’t belong here right? Still... I should probably end it with something that rhymes, like ‘pray’

The law of the strong
The jaw that can snap a neck bone
The claw of the jungle

The dominant ones have their way… it’s quite clear
The lesser ones will cower in fear
And those that spectate watch from a distance, and do not interfere

Let nature take its course
I have said enough, I await your feedback, for  this poem was metaphorical and not literal… of course
And so, kindly, if you will... engage me, the author, in profound discourse.

***!
Way to fleece…
A taxpayer
They’ve got us singing the blues
And we’re not down for all that jazz*… leave that to the Sax player
We remain mind boggled by these selfish ‘leaders’
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… ‘Dude! Way to bleed us!’
We’re already scraping the floor for crumbs… are they trying to run our finances into the ground?
“You work for us you pompous ******-bags, it’s not the other way around...”
Midnight meetings in secretive silence
We preferred it when their nonsense made a sound
We’re ashamed and infuriated
But what makes it worse is that we’re not surprised
It’s like they strive to be truly hated… and yes, they've  gotten themselves despised
More and more by the day
As each day goes by
We would throw them all out if we could
And our actions would be understood
Unfortunately we can’t do this for they are skilled at defiance
Masters of political science
And at it they are that good
Liars
Cheats
The campaigning politician...
Seducing us with deceit when he comes out on the street
To make his energetic speech
And then...
The elected Member of Parliament...
Only campaigns for his financial gain
Once he’s assured that for a whole term his position is permanent
That’s where they've slipped up, and I thought they were a smart lot
Schemious at least
Such a wrong move in an election year
Do they not fear… getting dropped by the voter?
Two hundred and twenty four MP’s… dead weight in deep water
And can’t swim
Should they have asked for my advice prior, I would have told them to simply cease and desist
“Do not dive in…”.

Today I want to write about thinking about what it is I want to write about
Letting these ideas converge in my mind and fight it out
May the best one win
Today I want to type the first thing that pops up in my head
Today I want to square dance with a Martian… and rename the colour purple ‘red’
Today I want to break so far away from the ordinary man’s norm
Today I want to do something absolutely, totally random
Today I want to take a break from being amazingly ****… to be superbly awesome
My mind is racing… full of excitement, like a ****** about to engage in a *******
Oh yes I said that!
Or typed it… whichever
Whatever idea I go with will definitely be the most rich… ever
But it’s tough to be at par... with poetry’s greats
When it is we that set the bar
Today I go for broke
Today I thought… I wrote… and my words spoke.

I banged the door against my ‘little’
And felt the pain through to my index…
Finger
I felt the pain surge through, felt it throb… felt it linger
Felt it ache
Felt my whole body quake, way past my pain threshold
**** this finger

I stubbed my little…
Toe
Against the leg of my coffee table, you know the one… that well varnished little devil
That stands just before the door
It felt like liquid fire
I looked down at my toe and asked it, “You mean to tell me that you didn’t bleed?... you LIAR!”
And then turned to the table and whispered, “You little *****.”

I don’t know how it happened, but...
You made me sob my heart out paper-cut
It isn't nice how you just up and slice
I’m a manly man, I declare… I boast
You can tell by my manly strut
But really, that ain’t cool… play nice, for pain is my least favourite vice
It’s the little cuts that hurt the most.

It is written
That there shall come a time when all the great poets shall be heard
It is written... by me

It is written
That there shall come a time when all the greats shall achieve their destinies
It is written... by me

It is also written
That their messages shall reach all... by air, by land
And by sea

Patience young poet, it is worth the wait
Have some faith
Think of that which you have put on paper throughout the years
Think back and appreciate your unique and creative ability to express yourself
And be proud of you
Be proud of that which you do
Young poet
You are a legend
And you know it
Ambitous young poet
It is your world
You own it
Let no one tell you otherwise
One word separates you from the others... 'wise'
This, young poet you need to realize
Work on your art
Don't compromise
Let the words express the passion they see in your eyes
Young poet
I understand and can relate with you
Young poet
Know that it is genius because you wrote it
You are a lion, not a kitten
Stand up and roar, and if they ask you why you are doing it
Tell them 'it is written'.