Me like a likkle of what ya got

'Cause I a zero not got a lot

I talks to me pastor

im a serious Judah rasta.

But me lives alone in this zone

I got to find I a way back home.

Me know me got life a wee bit wrong

And me never listen to da Masters song.

But now I got I a brand new deal

Me praise Jah 'cause im is real.

I gwan to church and say me tings

Jah he answer......me telephone rings.

Hello who im dat? and im say it is I de righteous cat

Den I fall down and me tears dey come

But im say rise up man you is my son.

Den me knows dat dis is da time

Me knows me faith is bang on da line.

Jah Jah im see me right

Yea even thru de dark of de night

Im me saviour me know dat now

Im smooth da lines off from my brow.

Jah Jah rule.

Jah is cool.

Me like a likkle of what ya got

'Cause I a zero not got a lot

I talks to me pastor

'im a serious Judah rasta.

But me lives alone in this zone

I got to find I a way back home.

Me know me got life a wee bit wrong

And me never listen to da Masters song.

But now I got I a brand new deal

Me praise Jah 'cause 'im is real.

I gwan to church and say me tings

Jah he answer......me telephone rings.

Hello who' im dat? and 'im say it is I de righteous cat

Den I fall down and me tears dey come

But 'im say rise up man you is my son.

Den me knows dat dis is da time

Me knows me faith is bang on da line.

Jah Jah 'im see me right

Yea even thru de dark of de night

'im me saviour me know dat now

'im smooth da lines off from my brow.

Jah Jah rule.

Jah is cool.

Jah speak to me
From time to time
I try to listen good
But Jah is gone
As fast He come

Jah told me once
"Hold on young soldier,
Love will soon find you"
But death comes too soon
Shattered heart leaves pain

Yet I keep faith in Jah words
For I know He knows all
He sees what I cannot
So I follow Jah path
Until I reach my resting place
Within your heart

As you look upon the alabaster statue of the beauty in the garden of Edom, the softness looks so real, can you feel her?  She is crying out the tears of blood, the crimson fluid of love.  She can’t hold that frozen space much longer.

The beauty is a piece of the dream, our clay that holds water. The one you wish to hold.  Her water is drying up and it won’t flow any longer. As purity changes from her solid stance, the wind blows and she fails to dance.  The clay becomes as the dry bones of the desert. How long must she wait?  Will you understand that she will blow away into the sand?

You are the salvation.  For joy and happiness is found in her man.  His day crosses many lands she is very rare. To her he is the Jeanie in the lamp. She cries into the darkness to hold his hand as he begs her to dance.  His heart is cracking into pieces for the long lost desires of the eternal twin’s secrets.  He stands in time and tenderly kisses her cheek as the tears of blood drops into his hand leaving rubies from a far off land.

The lion’s roar into the sand is sending the quake through all the land.  His love has left man leaving death and destruction with suffering just four years at hand for the final divinity  of man.  His love safely guarded by cherubim under the tree of life, waiting for her husband’s salutations.  The lion will return to the family of man to live as it was truly planned with in MT. Zion.

Jah beams as his wife arrives shinning and all knowing for his love to return. A prophecy to fill a life worth living was only a dream in my lion’s eye

He was such a strong and dedicated king in his day. Jah I say “let him walk in your way.”  His love would save my heart from destruction and depression. Jah say “wife of mine it was me you adored so how could he see you weren’t meant for him. A gift I will give to him to come close to heal all the nations’ afflictions!  His love must grow for years.  I stroke your cheek to change those tears to precious gifts so man will continue to love.  You gave a life for them one and all.  You heard my call to come home daughter I welcomed you into the garden full of beauty glowing within the golden dreams of life that sustains a husband and a wife.  Love never dies it changes faces and places for us to never ask why.

Jah’s army to warrior against the dead was to win at life and for his warriors to deliver his petition to his wife.  For peace and hope to prevail we must press onward and give to all to believe in equal measure to receive their universal treasure?

My queen I have let you live, love, and return unto to me under the tree of life where I ask you shekhinah to be my wife. I ask for you to birth man, to grow universes and comfort all their pain and strife.  I did give largely to let man truly live my love, for the earth was my son’s special birth.

me lungs aint pure wit out ganga
me mind aint pure wit out rasta
who be in my basement?
da rasta mon who stole me bank statement.
why he steal me bank statement
only jah will know.
me tird leg ain pure wit out soap
me arm peets aint pure wit out soap
soap is da purest
jah supply us wit soap
tank u jah
we like da soap u supply
we do not deny
here id de reggae household
jah.
J
A
H

Blessed Love My Lord and Empress

Praise be to Haile Selassie I
Raise me from Earth's ashes
Sacrament to Jah, my soul sings
Your son I praise him, Haile Selassie I

Garvey come and spread word, glorious words
Freedom of a people, Zion land, it waits with love
Praise be to Talaqu Meri, let his lands grow green
His Imperial Majesty, walk with me

Empires dazzle eyes, black Empress at the steps
Her robe draped with tender caress, love, Jah
Prophet man sing, rasta man sing, we all love Jah
In death Haile Selassie I looks over I and I, love Jah
Over Babylon the skies rain freedom on Jah people

. she was 19, i was 21, and i guess i was the first boy who treated her decently, allowed her to slap me in the face and stood like a copper statue before her... she wouldn't have made it at university among all the English yuppies, being pregnant... turns out, she might have opted for the Juno (the movie) route... all i know is that she graduated with a masters in anthropology... she was up in Edinburgh, i was back in London, roofing with my father doing the Scottish Widows HQ and then some other project, trying to weave myself into a managerial position in some roofing company... but then? the psychosis spiral... oddly enough - no hammers, no hearing voices wielding a hammer running down the street naked... contained... walked into a church near King's Cross st., lay on beside a the side altar, pulled the cloth from the altar, and wrapped myself in it... then heard singing, had my iPod with me... turned it off... turned it on again, turned it off... the singing still echoed the church... got up, put the cloth back onto the altar and started running around the church aisles... then a great wind dispersed the singing... what kept my sanity? well... given that i was smoking marijuana and fasting? one word... sátān... the whole 40 days in the desert? cut short... in a concrete desert... i phoned my then ex-girlfriend to meet me at this spot outside the church - right across from a royal mail HQ - and i remember the words: can you bring me bread, and water? nothing... on my own then... no... that sort of experience is no cause for jubilation, there is no ******* euphoria: you're talking about ******* it - in my case? thankfully that's only metaphorical... and i'm not buying the psychiatric *******, the easy way out answer: ooh... but youz ver in a church... what?! what the **** are these people talking about? sober people are allowed to have these experiences? well, really?! so why so many of them are negating or doubting intellectuals?! negation is the new doubt... somehow i managed to fend off the atypical munchies routine while smoking marijuana while walking in public... never bothered me... i was a reggae ***** at the time... notably Israel Vibration, Stephen Marley, Damian & Culture... & ***** and the Maytals... cliche, i know... but **** and rap?! seriously? gangster whatever the hell that means... i've just read an article about cultural appropriation... so what has the Jamaican Rastafarian culture have to do with Old Testament prophets?! JAH... they're always singing about JAH... it's a ******* yak! yah! a german YA! cultural appropriation my ***! it's Jamie Oliver's **** sauce! ****'s sake! yeah, right, Bambi on Jamaica smoking a silly one doing the reinvention of king David's psalms... no cultural appropriation there... nope... none... nothing... nothing wrong with Alpha Blondy singing about Yerushalem... nope... no cultural appropriation.... nope... none... nothing! i mentioned these bands to my Jamaican **** seller... big on the Illuminati conspiracy theories, i liked to listen to him ramble... hardly a Charlie Temple paranoid... loved his ox tail broth, his grandma made it for him... and a pretty daughter, but no mother... eh? his Thai ****? i'd prefer the shorter span of a tobacco high... where? near my old high school, Canon Palmer R.C. - now a ******* academy! whoop! whoop! sound the klaxon! you don't experience what i've experienced and start a cult with *** ****** in mind... like **** if you think you do... you... lay low... you puncture the existentialist exodus from Cartesian doubt - namely outright negation - and you wait for the revitalization of doubt, namely the pop culture variant of belief... doubt is, oddly enough, a variant of belief... and belief? be a leaf... just remember you were once attached to a branch of a tree.

yeah...

        a catholic school isn't
exactly a Jesuit school...

but being asked questions
about abortion
and euthanasia

   aged 15 or 16?

in real life?
  you short-circuit, glitch,
become ronin -

    the personal life, details?
too messy...
   she tells you she's taking
contraceptives,
   she's ends up self-harming...
she says she was abducted
and held for ransom,
she's a russian citizen,
her ex-boyfriend is still
hanging around,
  a son of some Russian oligarch...
you've only dated for a
bunch of months that do not
even make it half a year...
you don't mind condoms,
because... hell...
you'd love to see her wearing
latex...

     you know, the usual bits & bobs...

voodoo...
    for some strange reason i woke
up, and the ring finger blister
on my left hand, made by burning
out a cigarette on it
started bleeding:
  close to the bone -
and look! you get a slot motion
of your body recovering!
  no disclaimer concerning
the pros to what sharp objects
women do, by cutting...

but you know...
      asking a 15 / 16 year old
about his opinion
  about either abortion
or euthanasia?
  bad ******* move...
           at this point i'm thinking:
thank ****...

what does it even mean,
when a woman says it,
she's not exactly point-break
on Cartesian logic...

'matt, i think i'm pregnant'
'well, you know what you should
do, get an abortion.'

mind you... i am a citizen of a country
where abortion is legal...
hell, it might have worked,
*** was good, she could
reciprocate that sentiment...

oh, but if there is a kid at the end
of the tunnel?
i **** sure hope he doesn't
contact me, like a kid from
a ***** donor clinic...
      there's something malicious
waiting for him for me
to add about his mamma -

   aligned?
oh you know... *****, Henny,
  Diana and the Egyptian...
   go Charlie go!

                  please please keep
your name... we need a Charles trinity!

so yeah... Roman Catholic school...
****! oh right, outer east end of London...
Paddy central...
               i wonder...
                  but i'll never know...
the Polish Catholics are leaving...
               good on 'em...
          (yadda yadda, yeah yeah, for them)...

i'll never know...
   am i angry?
               i listen to Byzantine and Templar
chants and drink to a well earned
excess...
               sometimes the odd Bulgarian
******* to hug...
    
oh right... that one last time?
i didn't forget my genitals...
   i did an uncourteous lax of etiquette...
****!
           now it makes sense!
i forgot to trim my ***** hair!
(mumbling out) ******* eureka.