Just an equation,
A Simple theorem.
A little misbehaviour,
Outside the decorum.
.
I add and provide,
Hoping we never divide.
At the geometry, I stare
Just a mindfuck of a square.
.
A slight cross multiplication,
To bond upon this attraction.
To help develop the postulates.
Of your mere subtraction.
.
I integrate & derive,
It's the formulae I'm deprived
Of. The questions always lead to me and you.
I always end up in my four sided cube.
- Aks, in math classes.

I wanted to be there for Parsnips but time and  money availability have precluded it from happening. I cannot make it down for the funeral.

I f you would please pass on the following few words for me.

Parsnips was my mate, He was the epitome of a man from a different age.
He was wild and intense, dark of mood  and definite of opinion.

He was poetry in motion astride a good jumping mare, many a time I have seen him clear a seven wire fence with a good foot of daylight to spare.
His understanding of equine mentality approached that of witchcraft. He was capable of anticipating the  lashing hoof before the horse had formulated the thought, much less put it into action. He had NO patience with intemperate horseflesh. Many a frisky animal had second thoughts of misbehaviour after they had worn the thick end of a coarse rasp at close quarters.
Parsnip’s work was artistry, he was truly... one of the GREAT farriers.

The end of the working day would see Parsnips drown his sorrows in the demon ***.
This was the emergence of the dark soul who cast about for answers to impossible questions, who wallowed in the unhappiness of his failed horizons and the bitterness of his life’s disappointments. My mate Parsnips was not the easiest man to know in his dark moments. But a mate is a mate... you take the good with the bad.

And there were a lot of really good times... when a happy Parsnips had laughter in his eyes and a flash of excitement in his demeanour. I recall one such time when, on a wild rafting trip on a rampaging, flooded Mohaka river, The raft was marooned on a jammed stump in the midst of violent huge killer white water. Parsnips hung off a rope and with a look of wild joy on his face announced to his flabbergasted mates...”And I can’t even ****** swim a stroke!... fantastic. Needless to say he survived the trip and loved every moment of it.

I called to spend the afternoon with him a short time ago at the Rest Home. This was a shadow of the Parsnips I had once known. He was completely disillusioned with the hand fate had dealt him. He saw no future to speak of... He wanted out.
So I must say that I am not entirely surprised with the way things have materialised.
Parsnips usually arranged the system to get things the way he wanted them.

I grieve for the loss of my wild, intense mate, God knows there are few enough of them left.
Real people who live life in the black and white way.
Definite personalities who, for the good or for the bad, never ever leave you in any doubt as to where they stand in the way of things.

Fare well my old friend, I leave you with these words.

The Winds of Life
by Marshal Gebbie

The wind careers across the years
Gathering leaves and dust,
Sweeping lives before it
In cartwheels of redness and rust.
Epiphanous moments of magnitude
Through special occasions employ
The will o the wisp of everyday stuff
From sadness to anger to joy.

The billowing tumble of living
Through vaulting halls of trees
In the dappled light of sunshine
And green corridors of breeze.
The exquisiteness of living
When senses soar in the air
When the colours of being are rampant
And we savour each moment with care.

For the living time goes quickly
It flares and fades with speed,
‘Tis best enjoyed boisterously
With passion, love and need;
‘Tis best when tasted piquantly
Like a claret on the tongue
When you cloak the days with good things
And you hope your dreams die young.

Marshalg
@ the Gate
Mangere Bridge
29th January 2009

Skipping ropes tied to lamp posts
hopscotch was another for girls
I'd try to work out the rules
but dare not ask, nor yet even
be seen to be showing interest
sometimes I'd be invited
to join in girls play
I could hold the rope
while others skipped
but had not the grace
or the agility to skip
at all well myself
there were role play games
of families with dolls
proudly displayed
tenderly nursed
and I would be offered
the role of 'daddy'
though I had no clue
of how to do that
having no father myself
so I would be told
to arrive home from work
to sit in my chair
to put on my slippers
to smoke my pipe
to hear tales of misbehaviour
by the children
and I would be amused
but would be told firmly
that I must be stern with them
then when that was done
to eat my tea and afterwards
to sit watching the telly
distracted from the game
that continued around me
or to go out to the pub
and I thought that
fathers must be
the most boring of people


The rough and tumble
was not for me
why would some boy think
he could throw me down
straddle me, pummeling
overpower and hold me there
trapped, despite my struggles
I learned early that
scratching, biting,
flailing, kicking
were not permitted
nor were tears
yet I shed them still
and screamed and scratched
and bit and flailed
if I could not avail
myself of natural defences
generally expected of girls
then why should my attacker
receive no more than
mild admonishment, if that
while I'd be advised
to "toughen up"
and the goading
carried on relentlessly
"you run like a girl"
"you throw like a girl"
"you kick the ball like a girl"
"you fight like a girl"
as though doing those things
like a girl were demeaning

Cynthia Pauline Jones 30/10/13

Sometimes, I don't know what is the problem of my so called colleagues... There are so many issues worth tackling in the movie industry where as a movie maker u invest so much finance, time and energy and get back very little or nothing... Yet, what concerns our youths is celebrations, parties, function attendance and all... The so called movie ambassadors came up at the period of political campaign... Will this gathering still stand after they are bn used for political campaigns... That's a question that I'm sure can't b answered... D crazy aspect, s dt every name now goes first with Ambassador lagbaja or Ambassador tamedu... So crazy.... Rebranding starts from our selves... No group whatsoever, has d power to influence a corrupt, mis-managed, malfunctioning industry that needs urgent attention... I'm surprised to even find respected movie makers sleeping and putting heads in same direction... If we want to speak in one voice, I believe... There's an existing body, when d music sector got its branding and uplifted its current face to d very level its today, D's were not d measures and procedures takn.... Even in Hollywood, I have nvr heard of Ambassador Nicolas Cage, Ambassador Angelina Jolie etc... Neither in bollyhood have I heard of Ambassador Shakiru Khan or Ambassador John Abraham. What a pity..., even the newly experienced movie makers that doesn't even know what D's game is all about bear Ambassadors... I hear, there's fine for misbehaviour at events and all... Hmmmmmm, those that have sumfn upstairs, let them start thinking... Don't b used for sumfn that u will end up not benefitting and later b d glory of sum people that knows where this is going and the aim behind it.... However, if the motive is truly for d upliftment of D's great job that we all do with great passion... God help us all.... Tokunbo Awoga

I was talking to my therapist
About how much the two sides of my brain hate each other
About how scared and alone one side is
And how bitter the other one is that she had to be the one to do the growing up
And she told me that every time I hate myself
Every time I think how stupid I am for crying over dropping my hairbrush on the floor
Or over the death of a loved one
How ridiculous it is that I miss my boyfriend after talking to him ten minutes before
Any time I think anything negative about myself
It's like giving my father a high five
It's like telling him he did a great job when he set out to **** my head up so badly
That even years later I can't even think his name without feeling my entire being freeze up in terror
My father is like a snake and his words
His words are like venom that creeps through my veins paralyzing everything I might like about myself
For every time I think '**** I look good today'
There are a thousand other days where I heard his voice in the back of my head
Shouting all the things that have ever been wrong with me

But I'm done high fiving my father for making me hate myself
I'm replacing the shouts he left reverberating in my brain like an echo chamber
With the things my boyfriend whispers to me in the morning when we wake up
Because he thinks I'm beautiful before I brush my teeth, or do my hair, or drink my coffee
And I will replace them with the way he says my name when we have ***
Like I am a gift unto this world
Instead of a misbehaviour

The murmur began at the slow invasion of night
into a restless household, waiting for the sun to pull
the cloak of darkness over their depressions. The sky
pulled in tight and covered the suburbs with yellowing
memories of bygone days when streetlights lived
in small pale pools of circles under a twilight
of energy. Bellies full and bursting with new harvest wine
cuts of roasted pork and dark baked potatoes
there was no need to switch on the misery of political
misbehaviour. Contentment was written on cherub faces
and swollen bellies even as the noises from the street
amplified and grew bigger with every extra child added.

Then it happened. This disgraceful division between beliefs
that tore the street into pock marked holes of pain
Brother fought  brother and all of the Holy Books
were burned and everyone got out their pointing fingers
and looked across the street to lay waste to blame.

The first sms reached out beyond the barricades
and poles and farm implements were sharpened
for the hunting season. Anger drove people into strange
exorcisms and each side ran to the other to ferret out those
little children, huddling in frightened corners and mothers
breaking blood to lose the unborn brutality that followed.

Scattered amongst the ruins lay the dreams of happiness
and plentiful. The walls of economy imploded and the suited
smiling faces of politicians smeared across the highways were torn
down and used as fuel for bonfires. Everyone who dared died
within a week as the rubber bullets, water canons and plastic
armour plates ran out of production. Funeral pyres lit up the nightsky
and the wailing and weeping mingled with the river of rushing
humanity. The mountain paths were strewn with bones
and even the animals hesitated to eat the hungry.

The division of beliefs tore everyone into shreds of arguments.
Those in the front seat blamed the back benchers but those
in the left over seats were out on the street fomenting hate.
The world watched as the numbers climbed and all of the giant
pyramids and majestic pharaohs and ornaments could not stop
the need for power.

The lone child picking paper on an impoverished street
cried quietly and turned every stone looking for
mama.
Author Notes

A few years ago this happened, exactly as depicted. The land had plenty. Power was cornered at the top. Money and mystery flowed. Then one brave man sent a text message asking for change. The population exploded into belief/disbelief and chaos.

Even today the street battles rage and the pyres burn. The end is not in sight.
The Revolution will continue on.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.

So Are You A... Risk TAKER... ?
Or One Who Plays... SAFER... ?

Than Those Whose Flavour …
Prefers … MISBEHAVIOUR... !!?!!
The Reason I Ask Is Because It's QUITE A Task...
To Make Your Mark If Your Thing Is... ART... !!!

One Day In Conversation An Artist Got To STATING...

That.....

"For your art to hit hard and top the charts,
that you've got to take risks, to be a big thing !"

Which I Guess Is True But Think It Through...
Is Risk INTRINSIC... To Being ARTISTIC... ???

I Guess It Is …
When SO MANY USE Gimmicks...
And MANUFACTURED Lyrics …
To Make It In The Bizness'... !!!

The Business of CREATING...
Art That's... Entertaining...

I Guess That's What He's Saying... ?

Art That's … INNOVATING...
May Well INDULGE Risk Taking... ?

But Art That's REAL...
Seems To Be... "Concealed"...

So The Risk To Me Would Seem To Be...
Being An Artist Whose Art Is... FREE... !!!

From Poetry To Comedy …
It's A Risk To Concede To Artistically...
Be A Breed Whose Speech And Artistry …
FITS In Boxes or … “ TV's “...

... Know What I Mean... ?!?

It's An INDUSTRY Where Art COMPETES...
For WHAT... Trophies And BIG MONEY... ?

..... Well That's Just NOT ME..... !!!

But it is RISKY …
To PIN Your Hopes On Artistic Dreams... !!!

Like It Is To BELIEVE …
That SELLING DOPE Ups Periscopes... !!!

... I DON'T THINK SO... !!!

You May Just Sink And Take A HIT...
That ROCKS Your Boat Like CRACK Or Coc'... !!!!!

It's A Risk To TAKE HARD DRUGS You Know... !!!!!
I Mean CLASS A Cos' Most CAN'T Cope...
When It Comes To ADDICTIONS...
That Lead To... "MENTAL PRISONS"... !!!

Apparitions And Prescriptions …
That LIMIT Bigger Visions...
Because of Preconditions …
Positioned Next to VILLAINS.... !!!!!

So... Talking of POSITIONS...
What About These Women... ?!?
With Heads That BOB Like Chickens... !?!?!
They AREN'T ALL... " Finger Lickin' "... !!!!!

In FACT These Days I'm Thinking........
That Condoms Should Be... THICKENED... !!!!!!

Cos' ***** Holes Be STINKIN'... !!!!!!!
of RISKS That Have *****... SHRInkin'... !!!!!!!

It's A Risk To Link With THESE HOT Chicks...
Who Now FRY GUYS Who Think They're Wise...

UNTIL What Rests …
BETWEEN Their Thighs Brings TEARS To Eyes... !!!

Because of *** With A Hole That RIDES...
MORE Than Bikers... RIDE Their Bikes... !!!!!!

But Ladies It's A RISK For You... !!!
To MESS With Dudes Whose Vibe Is Cool...
Has Got NICE SUITS And Money TOO... !!!!!!

.......... DON'T Be Fooled.........
ALL That GLITTERS DIGS OUT Holes...
Just Like THOSE Who DIG For Gold... !!!!!

Ya' See RISKS Are HERE...
And RISKS Are... THERE... !!!!!

So Are You Prepared To RISK Truth or Dare... ?!?
I'd Rather RISK TRUTH Than LIE To PROVE...
I Can Walk Amongst SNAKES To Make My Way... !?!

The Game Nowadays Is...
FAR FROM............................... ............ Fair...... !!!!!
And RISKS DON'T CARE Like Medusas... STARE... !!!!

RISKS Are... " Stone Cold "...
With NO BREWSKIS Yo... !!!!!!!

It's A RISK To Drink And Drink TOO MUCH... !!!
Like It Is To Do Stuff That'll Get You CUFFED... !!!

Because Cops SPILL BLOOD...
And LIKE To PULL GUNS...

So... WATCH YOURSELF Son... !!!!!!!!!

DON'T PLAY That You're TOUGH …
… UNLESS You ARE... !!!!
Cos' Police MARK Cars …
Like Dealers DO CARDS... !!!!

It's A Risk To Gamble...
If You CAN'T HANDLE That BIG LOSS... !!!

Because Like James said...

"You have to pay the cost, to be the boss !"...

And On That Note...

I'll RISK One LAST Quote... !!!
It's A RISK To VOTE For POLITICAL Folks... !!!!!

As It Is To... EVOKE...
That Risks Are THE WAY For A Person To GO... !?!

When It Comes To Lyrics And Scripts I FLIP...
I STICK To THIS NO Gimmicks or TRICKS...
Or... Trying To Be SLICK... !!!!!

My CREATIVE Vibes And Dealings In Life...
DON'T Deal In Cosmetics …
Because They're AUTHENTIC... !!!

Which LIMITS THIS...
A NEED To STICK To Doing Things...

That Make Me INDULGE In TAKING...

........ " RISKS "........

I don't want to spin out a rhyme
each time I feel happy,
I want to laugh and drink beer
in a cooling shed,
with the bleak disruptions
of cue ***** and pockets.
I don't want to
search for the future,
I don't want to
pester in squalor,
I want misbehaviour
and my head in a bucket.
To rise again,
with the faint smell of liquor,
inhaling the youth
that never came to deliver,
bring me back to the hope of a soul's holiday,
to the hope this struggle will allude
to days without discord,
that play to my tune.

I ride on my bike to the farmhouse
with Milka's brothers
after Saturday morning work

we dismount
and I wait with my bike
while they go in

there is a dull sun
and a wind coming across
the fields

won't you come in?
Milka's mother asks
gesturing to me
from the doorway

sure I will
I say
and walk to the house
and go into the warm kitchen

cup of tea and toast?
she asks me
the boys have gone upstairs
to change

yes that'd be nice
I say

I look about the kitchen
at the pots and pans
and shelves and cups
and the large oven range
and the table and chairs
in the corner  

sit down Benny
she says

I sit down
and she is busy
with cups and toast

I listen out to hear
if Milka is about
I watch her mother
fuss about with things
to one side

Milka about?
I ask

if she knows you're here
she'll be up
and dressed in seconds
the mother says
not turning around

I hear voices upstairs
laughter
shouts
and then Milka
come down
and into the kitchen

they said you were here
and I didn't believe them
as they are always
teasing me about you
she says

where have you been?
her mother asks

tidying my room
like you have asked me too
Milka says

about time too
never seen such a mess hole
when I was a young girl
we had to keep
our rooms tidy
the mother says

Milka pulls a face
behind her mother's back
it's done now
she moves towards me
and kisses me quickly
on the cheek

I hold her hand
and squeeze

I suppose you
want breakfast now?

yes please
Milka replies

her mother says
what do you want?

I'll get it
Milka says

she goes off to the larder
and I watch her move
her blue skirt
and white top
the buttons open
at the neck too low
(her mother would say)
the legs
the way she sways
her hips
as she walks

here you are Benny
the mother says
and hands me
a plate of buttered toast
and a cup of tea

thank you
I say

and she moves off
to the other room
and I hear her move about

Milka says
didn't know
you were coming here today?

thought you might
like to see the new Elvis film
I say

she smiles
sure if Mum'll let me
she says

she goes off
to see her mother
in the other room

I eat the toast
and sip the tea
and listen

there are hushed voices
and few sighs
then more voices

it'll be my treat
I say
I’ll treat her

Milka and her mother
come into the kitchen

it's not that
the mother says
it's just that
she's been grounded
the weekend
for misbehaviour

I look at Milka
who pouts her lips
and looks at me

I see
I say

and look at the mother
she gazes at me
and her eyes
are soft and brown

and she says
but I don't see why
you should be deprived
of her company
because of her naughtiness
she will not be allowed out
next Saturday though
she says

Milka beams
and her face lights up

and I say
thank you
I’ll have her back
in good time

the mother stares
at her daughter
and I mean about next week
she says

I know
Milka says

her mother goes off
to the other room
we kiss
and she goes off
upstairs to get ready

I finish my toast
and tea
thinking to myself
lucky me.

I walk down the misty streets
Trying to find me something,
Sometimes I feel like a hit and miss
I go back home
I seat near the lit fireplace
It’s near midnight
It’s getting late
My bones are crumbling
The only sound I hear is the fire crackling.

It’s near 2 o’clock
I want to eat
However, my legs are weak and I cannot get up
Turn on the television
News roundup
The type of stuff I never pick up
“The crime was a setup”
Oh god, where has humanity ended up?

It’s near 3 o’clock
My patience is out of stock
Now that I started this…
I'm locked down
Trying to resist
Not everything can be resolved with fists
I could try to make myself a list
Nevertheless, there is a twist
I cannot coexist
With me.

It’s 4 o’clock
Should I get a drink?
There is some near the sink
I drag my sleepless body to the kitchen
Oh god this place stinks
Stinks of cheapness, shoddy
I could drink it all in a blink
I embody the alcoholic.

It’s 5 o’clock
I am neurotic,
Psychotic,
Idiotic...
I always hated this behaviour
Quite so hypnotic
I have been told I was a failure
Now I taste the flavour
Of misbehaviour
Of which I savour
I am no saviour.

It’s morning
I have work
I have this quirk
And I don’t know why now I smirk
I guess I avoid it
But the thought still lurks
Now I sit here destroyed
Maybe now,
Unemployed.

I've got no inspiration, 'cause you've taken it all
Can't put pen to paper, 'cause I've written it all
And my misbehaviour, has caused me too fall

Deeper down the hole you left,
When I put you on the shelf.

This is for my mother I couldn't ask for no other
Sorry for the hate I threw know your skin like rubber
Look now it only took, wow, I look down, eight years
If only I'd ate fears there wouldn't be so much hate here
You should know I smoke cigs but hate beer
No alcoholic know I'll frolic if it's a great year
I know you hate dad with ingrained fear
He really ain't bad now it's been about 8 years
Off pharmaceuticals with **** free of seizures
I know that won't please ears but ma please hear
He hates the man he was, for that I love him plus
When we met there was no fuss all love and just
A heart of regret mixed with an attitude of gratitude
former for nearly killing you and I when he battered you
The latter because without him I took right after you
A dapper dude with a knack or two for facts and truth

I already have His forgiveness so now I'm asking you

I know you didn't want me but shouldered the burden
See God had some plans if only you had heard Him
But maybe you did that's why My name so glorious
On the straight plain the bearer of Christ is victorious
That's Kyle Kristopher Moffatt translated in reverse
Yiddish-German-Scottish man slated notorious
An old soul of bold gold to the core he is
Forged by Holy fire one of Yah's Warriors

I've been an adult for twice more than four years
Going on 24 16's when I left you in your tears
I didn't mean no harm ma just wanted life without fear
Of you beating me for thinking me mighty queer
Between slit wrists, hanging, and electrocution
God had already stayed about 14 of my executions
Jew stewed in antisemitism so sought retribution
On the peers that used belt sander to give abuse
That's why I wore war paint to make boars faint
Because they misbehaviour ain't kosher or quaint
They thought me a push over so I sought to push over
The pain that they painted me with into bush corner
Suddenly vision swarms and it's burning warmer
Reconciled the paradox that I was born of
******* dealer and Archaeologist student
Who for my good switched to defence law prudent

I know you didn't want me but shouldered the burden
See God had some plans if only you had heard Him
But maybe you did that's why My name so glorious
On the straight plain the bearer of Christ is victorious
That's Kyle Kristopher Moffatt translated in reverse
Yiddish-German-Scottish man slated notorious
An old soul of bold gold to the core he is
Forged by Holy fire one of Yah's Warriors

I know you told me to never contact you again
But I can't help it if you find this and you listen
Not a single diss in this just love and confirmation
That you put work in this kid by higher conversation
Taught me of a universal world unfurled in university
Expanded my mind left behind thought of you hurting me
See I don't mind I just hope you find peace in these
A reminder you always have a heart's piece in me
If I don't stop I might start weeping feel it seeping
But I got a bit more to say before fleet feet leaving
Central Banking has me thinking society's sinking
War, Poverty, Greed and Drugs are all to be thanking
If you want to know who brings'em; government does
It is the oil in the machine and we are the irrelevant cogs
Numbers and debt slaves they get to behave like dogs
Some kind of commodity to be sold like we bathed logs

They call me Kristopher though I prefer Phiwrit or K-Moff
That Phiwrit bit might not catch on it just came off
The dome top, too many talents know I won't stop
I still intend to repay you even though we don't talk
Too many talents Joanna know I can't and won't stop
I still intend to repay even though we don't talk
Just know for you I won't stop until His Kingdom Come
From where I Am from

Misbehaviour
Is
That
Moment
When
You
Push
Someone
Back
While
Speaking
And
Run
Away!

We have not got a lot of memories that are fond
Do not share the norms of a family bond
Lacking shared memories seen as fond Of times that  we were happy for once
Tied by blood shared a home so differently raised You unnoticed and my misbehaviour praised
Discarded me as a wayward child
From how you’ve reacted with what ive compiled
Compiled a basis to resent you
You’ve never been there from all I've been through
You’ve had a way of always making me feel guilty
From adolescence to adulthood its now hit me
Cause all that ive done you couldn't do
Never would you or could you
My previous affection has gone and retracted
A true callous nature is what you’ve contracted
You couldn't even begin to empathise
The loss I felt when mum met her demise You only focused on monetary gain
Not showing any sadness did you Lorraine?
I was in severe shock losing mum so quick
The wrong time to pressurise me that you’d pick Live and let live so they do say
But your attitude has caused me such dismay
I can not forgive and forget so **** easy
No contact is something that will Please me
Even the last time we spoke Sparked  more  anger you’d provoke
Unable to recall is it two years or three That mum had been gone, disrespect really
The cold hard truth you wouldn't be able to bear
So I will leave you to do what you do best, not to care.

My Teacher, My tea, The preacher
My teacher the mother she was
To many kids i knew or even saw
She taught me to read which i did better than many of her own.

I played to wounds as she  nursed them with love
And when i lost a tooth, she replaced it with a penny and so i learned to earn
Saveless the spending
See my empty bottle and tummy all full to her mercy
Meals in full with no bill to clear

My misbehaviour attracted her tender slaps
To which i cried and smiled to the latter
In ink and paper i see your presence
So i remember not to forget you
Each of my smiles is a written letter of thanks to you.

It's raining
With all its power
The world is crying over our sins
What have we done
What have we done
It's bleeding
Our world in blood
Burning in fires
Eating the air which feeds our lungs
Land s drowning in blame and disease
In waters of waste and fuel filled
The Gods went mad
About our misbehaviour
No respect or care
What have we done

Wake-up
Wake up
There may be still hope
For once lost
To bring back
Make life for our children
Wake up

My tank is empty
I am running on low
Mary Jane, please fix me up
Breathe in some fresh air
in my lungs

Mary Jane,
I want to play your game
Darling, you put a spell on me
I need your magic touch
Hit me up with your punch
Let’s fly, together on cloud nine

Mary Jane, you are so *****
Filthy, outrageous, smoking hot
You’re so bad but so good
Honey I love, every inch of you

It’s simple, you are the one
When you come I come
My Sweet Miss Misbehaviour
Give me just one more blow
Baby kiss me until we’re done

Do you remember, father?
You told me that we would be taught to become Proper Humans.
But, are we learning that or are we being taught that ?
Inhumans have surrounded my planet of dreams, father.
Where can I find the blank lovely space?
Can it be done in this planet?
Can it be, father?
Do you remember, father?
You told me that we would be learning grammar and having a war of words.
Which war are we being taught to fight?
We thought they would teach us the war of our life but here we are being taught to fight war with our friends.
Do you remember, father?
You told me that we live in a peaceful world,
But, are we still living in that world or is it the fault of the world that is making us live?
Talking about the world makes a life speechless.
Do you remember, father?
You told me that, in the second standard, we would be learning about conservation of our mother Earth.
Are we considering it as our mother and if we are, why are we dusting her clothes?
People say their mothers help them with their first steps.
But, aren't we fading those footsteps of the road she prepared for us?
Aren't we disturbing her breath making it polluted?
Do you remember, father?
You told me that everybody is a genius whether by their talent, creativity or by their fast mind?
But, now, what I see is different, father.
We are just told to be hidden and they tuck us inside a rack and tell us about success and future?

They think success comes from failure,
But, are they letting us give a try?
They say touch the sky,
But, being locked down in a cage,
Will they let us fly, father?
Will they?
They say, spread colours around this beautiful land we live in,
But, if they give us artificial colors,
Won't we be spreading hatred all around?
They can fly in the air
But, I assure, father, their wings will be torn down soon.
The world has broken down, father.
Lives are endangered,
I wish it would have been a barren planet.
It would be better, father.
If it happened, the trees were always safe in their land of dreams.
The animals never could have thought of such misbehaviour with them.
The humans never could have got the chance of becoming such mightier people forgetting their heights.
Aren't they wrong, father?
Is this world a mistake or am I or are you or this nature that leads us to be like this ?

Childhood chants for childish ways
Misbehaviour, misdemeanor
Nothing permanent no new stains
Visible to the naked eye, anyway

Minds play tricks, what a treat
Mistrusting, misunderstanding
Brain's concoctions can't imagine
Attention isn't worth these pains

What goes up must come down
Misremember, misbegotten
Lies, pretense, silly fancies
Self doubt sees the stalwart slain

- Questioning my insanity, a double-edged gaslight burns me at both ends but I no longer feel the flame

Father forgive me and pour quickly another 16 bars
To show the gifts of grace laced betwixt these scars

I had to figure out what I wanted to be sayin'
And how to say it, without a stutter or sprayin
Just in case I end up with that ***** ace hit
Lace it like a base hit, going back to basics
20/20 so I got no need for contact or lasik
No congac or bourbon wasted, on Jack-by-the-case ****
On the rocks, with coke to nose, for those who know
Made it on my own, no bone thrown, no debt be owed
Nor load to be towed, blazing p's of o on the low
tell by the glow, and how the kid's suit's sewn
The Sheen's shown in each pebble this Jew flows
My women be sinning, while I be grinning "OhhH"
Right there, in the night air, no polite fare
Though it's hot, we might get a cold-bite stare
Finish quick, flick of the wrist, hold tight hair
Pulled her rack, walked this to mine, height of player

Burned chinatown down, so blow no low mein
Learned the kinda talent to make our own lane
Come slow for dames, lames can't handle me
Some try though they can't hold a candle to me

These the freestyles they pump in Amsterdam
Never see me running wheels, like these lil hamsters, ****
Watch out eager beavers, feel I'm 'bout to blast your dam
Release the Lord's Waters, drown as I flood your land
Got your blood on my hand, I mix it with the sand
I bury you in, no coffin in which to be crammed
My mission, to quiet the rioting inside of thee
From society's ingrained condition of anxiety
thus cleanse you of the omission, and bias ye seek
Quit the escaping in Paramount & heights of peaks
or the pair of mountains you grip close to chest
After you paint her Pollack, you smoke a few sesh
then laugh and frollick until you choke and need rest
Wallow in disappointment even when you've had the best
So much for a Soma Coma to bring you home again
Most just relapse in the vein, trust, all effort's in vain

Burned chinatown down, so blow no low mein
Learned the kinda talent to make our own lane
Come slow for dames, lames can't handle me
Some try though they can't hold a candle to me

I done came into my God's strength
That's why I am keepin' y'all at arms length
My **** is about as long as the arm of the Lord
Mighty strong comparison to a cudgel or a sword
but there ain't no comparing when I'm ******* on ******
This that early Onset Alzheimer's Rap
Yes cat's, early enough for an old timer's nap
Burly enough to handle burlap sacks
filled with stacks of trapper keepers
They all go much deeper than that, it's ether
I can easily be leaping tall stories flat
in single bounds, out of bounds, in ALL CAPS
Mm... Food they say when I enter the room
Mom's Forced DOOM when I'd exit the womb
Hand shaped obsidian the composition of tomb
Hands of Fate tektite (tech tight) when comes to position the loom

Burned chinatown down, so blow no low mein
Learned the kinda talent to make our own lane
Come slow for dames, lames can't handle me
Some try though they can't hold a candle to me

My gold links cold cut this hot slice. suffice
to say, the universe Sway to the smoke from my pipes,
The vine ripe I know, divine right, the signs I write
It’s simple how Him pull symbols by lines I light
with the pen in right hand. Invite my insight
even in flight I will pull in quietly, quite
quaintly quilled answers to your problems I solve’em
Got a pocket full of monsters time to evolve them
The Triage that we brought, heal the **** by salve son
The never-fail-her tailor, repeal at cash, hide all yours
We here to burn’em, earn our term, learn to turn
lead to gold, with wisdom scrolls on ancient fern
You are the Jewel, you are the Philosopher’s stone
just the world imprinted plants, your throne overgrown
with misbehaviour, know that Yah’s Son is here to save ya
Yehoshua HaMashiach My Lord, Master, and Saviour

He gives His toughest battles to His strongest Warriors
Before I throw the towel in I'm a show you what His Glory Is.

HELP HEAL

Because of our misbehaviour, we, animals did indiscriminately ****

Everywhere pollution created, chopped  off trees n plastics did  spill

Destroyed Nature mountains n in seas, oil plenty did spill.

Many species we eliminated and ruthlessly their fate did seal .

Abide we did not with Nature's laws n its time-wheel;

Destructing things left right due to greed, ego, power n zeal.

Ahura, all  the  Ameshaspands please help Armaiti heal.

Armin Dutia Motashaw