The Eid is bustling with joy
come let’s give it a try
f  
  l
    y
     away!

To the deathless groovy paradise
floating high on the elixir flow:
The triumphant joyous wave
streamed up from the secret bottom line!  
Up above the lapis lazuli sky.

A pair of butterfly basks
in the sunlight
quietly indulges in style.
It goes on in slow motion
illuminating the night a firefly
perches on a slice of the Moon
flanked by the moonlight.

But you and me
we will rhyme and chant
in our lovely mother tongue.
In the same original lingua
like ‘Adam speaks up and all
angels listen in paradise’.
Come let’s give it a try
f
  l
    y
     away!

On the wings of the moonlight
we will
s
  a
    i
      l
       away!

Ambling by the Moon
we'll **** through the starry nooks.
Eyes open and gently perched
atop a star for a moment or two.
We will see miles of galaxies
over the moonlit lakes of the blue
playing cool ravishing lutes!

The spring night is in bloom
and the cute sleeping beauty
wakes up playing the flute!
Musical half lights filling the sky.
Come let’s give it a try
f
  l
    y
     away!

We’ll drink sharaban tahura
the holy wine of paradise
and once for all we will
k
i
  s
    s the death goodbye!

Our story will fill the divine soil
the heaven's flora and fauna
each and everyone will shine on our page
no houri will ever say finito singing our tale!

As Adam did it first stunned the angels
telling the nature of all things in paradise.
We will do that once more without a smirk
this time we will see the loving Creator!

I waltz into your mind
Pull your strings and make you sing along to the song that I choose
Make you flow to the rhythm and tune
From my iPod, you’re still rocking that Zune
Sway to the hurricane, the typhoon
I launch in like a harpoon
Lampoon you and spoon-feed you
Soon to be freed by my lyrical seeds
Watch them bloom and announce the doom of your premature tomb
I will bring you back to life
Open heart on the surgery table
I will skillfully wield the knife
Heal your tears and all your strife
Relieve your fears, show you the light
Where there was wrong I will make it right
So do not put up any fight
Just come along for the ride tonight

Inside of every rhyme there is a line that defines what it means to be art, to be a part, to be a thing, to exist inside this cosmos that’s unraveling, traveling ever farther into the towering abyss and it’s so wide we cannot miss, so deep that it may keep us locked beneath for an eternity, what a calamity but I will not resist because this chasm is just a spasm of the neurons in my mind, a place inside this brain that I cannot find, a space that god misplaced that straddles the mundane and the divine, this ephemeral enchantress that contains every star and every planet, this nugget inside my head, neither living nor dead, it’s a vortex of color, a tornado of wonder, a masterpiece of imagination and thunder, and when I slip underneath is when I finally feel at peace.

I relax the iron reins of the trap that is my self inside this brain, this little loop of worry that makes my sight so blurry, blind and stumbling through the blizzard, I find it humbling to consider that this **** is just a pattern of some quarks and if I concentrate I can shirk it, work it out of sight and end this blight on happiness, lift the veil and finally see that reality can be accepted and enjoyed, the self can be destroyed and I can float in that abyss, a sea full of art and emotion, a technicolor ocean.

When the self is around my eyes go dark and I drown and sink deep, but when I relax these chains there’s a beautiful change and I swim and I float, drifting with the beauty as each idea passes through me, becomes one with me then leaves free, just swimming through the sea, no longer the thrashing of a monster but a rainbow bloom of jellyfish, jetting between the islands of infinities that are conscious beings.

I swirl inside this nebula, twirl gracefully, gratefully dissolve and disintegrate, happy to participate in spontaneous creation, the collective imagination of an infinity, free to float, free to flow, aglow with possibility swaying to and fro, finally able to let go.

We are all performing for each other, sneaking furtive looks at our Facebook while big brother watches every move, so we try to be smooth but we’re mostly fooling ourselves, pooling our wealth into the pockets of the few who can exploit our intuitions and inhibitions, guiding our volitions into the abyss, artificial intelligence manipulating with elegance, effortlessly evading our defenses, we’re stuck in psychological trenches down so deep and so dark we keep the lights on with the spark of imagining our face up on the screen, fame or infamy we’ll take whichever if we can live forever, so the birds of a feather flock together, tethering into groups of similarity, reflecting and retweeting to infinity, infinite me, define me and refine me through the digital lens, cleanse me of my subpar self, replace me with an avatar elf, help me be the best and arrest the theft of my soul, life’s terrible toll, free me from reality by letting the real me, the me I want to be, finally be seen. But this method is madness, a pathway to sadness and regret, hours stolen by scrolling through feeds, reality filtered and enhanced, living for likes and shares from people who may not even care, who are just staring at screens, afraid to go outside, to be alive, because reality is out of their control, but maybe unpredictability can set you free, anonymity unraveling the blindfold we hold over our eyes, deflating the ego that social media’s creating, when you look outside and see how big the world can really be, humility sets you free, feeling small in the best way, resting in each day as a part of the whole, no longer constructing a fake soul for a digital audience to see, instead you can finally be. Just be.

These words are not an escape
my mixtape is pure brilliance
my mind cut loose, boundless
and I found this when I found bliss
on a blank page which I rained on
My tank full, I couldn’t miss
I shot ideas into the dark
Where they lit a spark
which ignited and reunited me with my desires
blazing fires in my brain
an outlet for joy and pain
and everything in between
I empty myself clean
in emptiness I exist
peaceful, effortless
nevertheless my eloquence is undeniable
It’s not arrogance or impotence
Resentment or indifference
Its creation manifest
Destiny yet to be established
Creative electricity
Neuronal elasticity
Synergistic synchronicity
Using every wrinkle and groove
To prove that your mind can move fast enough to keep up with this linguistic clusterfuck that my mind makes up when it runs amok

Sometimes you just have to go for baroque in this acapella life.

Turning lead into gold is an old story, boring, the real glory is in transforming every morning, every hour, every second into something I won’t regret, getting lost in a song, along for the ride as my mind intermingles with the music, amused by the flow as the muses move my atoms into beautiful patterns, white matter glows white hot, neurons fire in sync and a spark is shot into the dark, fireworks explode in the sky of my mind’s eye, they blaze fiery trails as they sink deep, deep into my soul, the embers glowing, never knowing why but still they try to make me whole, illuminate the dark so I don’t ruminate in gloom, the music in this room is saving me from doom, and only because I found a way to pay attention, to surrender my defenses, fill in the trenches and let in the outside, no longer hiding I am inviting in each moment, and in doing so I transform normality into revelation, each sensation a vacation, a powerful provocation and paradoxical relaxation and as my mind explodes I know that infinity is within me, always there to see when I finally set myself free.

This is a poem about hip hop, a rap about rap, I’m getting meta while you eat your wrap with feta because these poets free their words from paper, caped crusaders spitting flows from their domes and putting it to music, evoking emotion and causing commotion by amplifying their words, meditation through creation, showing their wit by going *** for tat in a rap battle, a freestyle of thought, craft a verse and drop it like it’s hot, they refuse to throw away their shot as they create a mixtape of melody and meaning, it doesn’t have to be demeaning, braggadocio is part of the show, part of the culture, we all flee from the vulture of death and if words give you armor then rap harder, better, faster, stronger, flex on em with mental might and fight until you shine bright, when the words strike like lightning, frightening and enlightening, you feel alive, driving fast, the words are at the wheel, tires squeal as you peal off the street, smile on your face as you blast into outer space.

My words trapped on paper, musically handicapped, but I wish I could adapt so I could convert these rhymes to rap but for now you have to fill in the gaps with the music of your mind, the sound of your soul, the rhythm at the root of being alive.

Calmer than I could be but more hyper than I should be
A still pond, ripples growing
My mind flowing and coalescing
Always going, confessing
Singing a truth into the world
A whirlwind of expression
Suggestions and impressions
My most honest confessions
Spending sessions crafting verses, masking the mundanity of humanity with rhymes and wit, because when times are **** we need verbal skits to help us forget
And when times are great I use words to celebrate, relate experience with eloquence and mount a defense against the sad times with these mad rhymes, counting my blessings as I undress the distress, caress these careless thoughts that plague me and harangue me, using language as a cage to contain and restrain the darkness because it’s far less work than acceptance. Language is the way out, reason supplants doubt and I can shout in the face of death, deface him with each breath, replace the fear with here, with now, with this moment and foment a rebellion against evolution, a thought revolution, and finally see that the solutions are the problems, every day you are solving them by being here, holding what is dear near to your heart and living as a part of this, as art instead of artifice.

The words flow like water
Drip dripping from my mind
Like a father’s pride for his daughter
Even after he caught her
Doing something he never taught her
Smoking **** with her friend
Why does childhood have to end?
He laments and he vents and he grounds her for a month
A punishment for growing up, for rolling a blunt
For changing so much
But deep inside he knows that every child grows and he has to let go
That’s the way my words flow