One job
For me
To do
Meet flesh
Go through

Sean Hunt  June 13 2016

Wrapped in the fireplace
of your arms. Warmed by
the trust in your smile.
The night and our love

Are acquainted. You cuddle close
and feel my heart. I brush your
hair away from your face.
The window and the rain

Are old friends. Soft candlelight
washes over our skin,
soft music over our repose.
The ambiance and timing

Couldn't be better. I look
down at you, you're falling asleep.
I kiss your forehead
and whisper, Sleep well.

With eyes closed, you sigh
and reply, Then don't go.

Digeridoos are back in stock
Said the notice in the bric-a-brac shop
Are the West of Scotland Numpties
On their own Dreamtime quest?
Are they contemplating their navels
Through the holes in their stringvest?
Could they realize their chip-papers
Hold the answer to their havers
And the Buckfast in the Hand gripped
Tight is causing calluses in the brain.
Corks dangling from their hats
Swinging like disorientated bats
In ryhthm to the dance of delirious tremor
The adrenaline is pumping.
Mossies no, but midgies, aye,
A stark contrast to the Kappa motifs;
Are the natives going walkabout,
In the local run-down mall?
Calling everyone mate,
In an accent you love to hate
Walkabout, lost in the wilderness
Wandering through the bush.
Outback here there ain’t no
Crocodiles, only quilted, padded cells.
Hand to wall a red imprint,
Not paint, my boy, but blood.
This lot would embarrass any Aborigine
Because they havnae got
An original thought.

Smiling.

It’s easy enough,
a simple twitch at
the corners of my
mouth

but my mouth still tastes
of you, your rough hands
holding me still

we folded in on ourselves,
a house of cards threatened
by the slam of a fist

on a table, where we
shot daggers at each
other's souls

you knew the right words to say
and my defences were low,
no glass case to protect
my body from

their sting

but my organs rest inside
my ribcage, my lungs are save
from the fire of your tongue

and my heart beats against
their bars, pulsing, pulsing,
pulsing away from

you

they say what the ****
im smokin' about
im.still tryna hold up the clout
malcolm and martin left out
but the pieces are scattered
we like vultures to our own ****
cant built **** cuz we stuck on stupid
youth is far mislead
followin' this fake rappers
and everything read on the front of a newspapers head
line **** how could we get this far out of line
im seeing judahs from tokin' buddha
my consciousness
kept in covert harness
are you peepin' this?
ashes drop on enemies
believe me we all humans
and we gone die one day
just pray
that i dont use the ak
and slaughter another brother
**** i thiught we was cools but not everyone is cool
my peeps turn the other cheek
the strong or the weak?
who got it goin' on?
i wonder why i gotta christen the ****
and another sad song
is played at a funeral
my lyrics subliminal
turn maxis to minimals
yea im a problem child no smiles
straight serious
im lookin' to **** the ghetto birds
hoverin' the skies
fake *** ties led by the medias lies
wake up understand the plan
new world order os really old
the games been the same
things aint changed
blacks still slaves mexicans still slave
and somehow we still pave.
a way to happiness
my mind is bliss when i let the guns kiss
the temples the white house
leave em like celulite dimples
this is an anthem in a vintage phantom
throws ya guns up
and let the bullets reign
as hail mary sangs!!!

mass mayhem maker
political scheme taker
thoughts conjured in the
darkest nights
consider myself a black knights
flash lights of past memories
stay one up on my enemies
kick more *** than Michael Jai
keep the blunts rotatin
to open my third eye
brains never fried a spirit can never die
only transform into a mud atom
bones and flesh put to rest
i resend back up with the Most High
sky high dappin up with my homies
drinkin' ***** n Hawaiian Punch
in thugs mansion
ya cant even get drunk
**** satan i leave demons hesitant
automatic annihilation
no time for procrastination
i got kids to feed
empires to build
more to breed
block out wickedness
with my mental shield
professor x'in it mystic
with my hits
fill up caskets like a necropolis
hook up for a qp in Minneapolis
back to my fantasy which is my reality
my second OG told me
to **** out the phonies
move like Confucius
deadly war general smooth criminal
**** these playa haters
Why yall mad at me
Why dont ya **** some ****
With me
Then ill blast yo ***
Back to space
Closed casket
Dont turn me into a *******

243

I’ve known a Heaven, like a Tent—
To wrap its shining Yards—
Pluck up its stakes, and disappear—
Without the sound of Boards
Or Rip of Nail—Or Carpenter—
But just the miles of Stare—
That signalize a Show’s Retreat—
In North America—

No Trace—no Figment of the Thing
That dazzled, Yesterday,
No Ring—no Marvel—
Men, and Feats—
Dissolved as utterly—
As Bird’s far Navigation
Discloses just a Hue—
A plash of Oars, a Gaiety—
Then swallowed up, of View.