We float on unkown oceans
In boats more made for land.
The sails have ceased to function,
And our boots are laced with sand.
The rudder is unresponsive,
The first mate seems quiet too.
The ship has started leaking,
Weakend wood and stale stew.

The course was never charted,
This was known among the crew.
A passage for the faint of heart,
The bard and the jester too.
These denizens of darkness
Embark with the morning dew.
Depart with mist horizons
To find the start of something new.

For months we sailed
Through winter times,
On waters cold yet still serene.
The memories of warmer climes
Seem like nothing but a dream.
Cannons fire, deckhands scream,
Ship splintered by the sea.
Driftwood caught in ocean's sway
Swept up then cast away.

while I sit in the room alone in the dark

I give nothing but time to these awful thoughts

Eating away at my decaying brain

the weak is weakend by the constant pain



I'm doing all that I can you see,

giving you every single piece of me

yet here we are with paper and pen,

you can take my blank page and fill it in



because how I hear it, correct me if i'm wrong,

is that this is just your unwritten song

So you take my heart and string it along

is it your arms that I still belong?



like a little girl I sit and wait

make a wish and count on fate

this is the mess that you have made

took the book and destroyed the page.



and on the shelf I go again

lost in space with a few more friends

collecting dust and making amends

waiting on that other hand he lends



Take a step back, make sure you're certain

I feel like you are writing your own version

my chapter said this and yours said that

so here we are with half an act



So tell me what is on my mind,

read my book before father time

take my heart and spill it out

read each line slowly without any doubt



You think you know this book,

better then anyone here

I think you misunderstood the point,

you've read only one chapter....fear'



Theres a few more chapters you need to read

the easy ones, like friends, and family

cause those are the chapters that i've written before,

something I know about a little more



The chapters missing are far to advanced

the ones I can't write because I don't understand

like love, and loss, and breaking hearts

I hide from the truth alone in the dark



Alone in the dark on that shelf I sit

just an over read book that no longer fits

as time goes on I ponder a bit

flip through old chapters before I finally quit



The future is bright, or so they say

the unwritten words are ours today

so take the book off the shelf,

take me down sense you've offered help



grab my pen and bring me paper,

this book of mine we will write together

you will talk and I will listen

reading off the pages that have yet to be written.

Yea I deleted my old posts,
got used to deleting my history,
trying to wash myself clean,
but the soap is hopeless,
every Jim cares to see the mask off,
I should probably take my hat off,
I'm leaving incognito.

Bruce Lee tapompele,
the almighty was one of us,
truly like a stranger on the bus,
I'd be the first to free Barabbas,
more in common with a criminal,
Israel in 4BC had no mass communication,
but the problem has always been about the broken communion,
2000 years later many in China are yet to hear good news,
can we break passed the great walls,
you can tell from a distance that I watched a lot of television,
spent little time in rosy parks.
recently I became aware of my ignorance of the past,
tried to to undo my evils like samurai Jack,
this is a long poem so don't expect a haiku.

See I'm one of those trees who'd take in things passively like phloem,
it riled me up when I discovered things like who Huey represented in the boondocks,
feeling like a Tom dubious making a Ruckus.

I realized I was a slave to many things,
so I'm on the pursuit of being a free man,
started to think about what it meant to say wakanda forever,
it made me wonder if maybe Zion is better.

I was wrong to complain about the land that I was born in.
I just want the Potter to hurry up,
my clay is dry I can feel it cracking,
the blackness is Syrias,
M just turned 16 but some boys his age  have seen more than M16s,
makes me wonder which direction I should pray this Easter.

No shots fired maybe I need some gun control,
Your pen is your pistol,
mind is a missle,
mouth is a canon,
don't trade it for a nickle,
no matter what burdens you carey,
I hope you get the picture,
be sure you know your artillery.

Most of my moves were fear driven,
If only you could feel the sound of my mind,
conspiracies and half-truths ain't kind,
like a big fat liar,
scared of the big bad wolf,
how could reading about four horses
make me so unstable,
walking with a cane wondering if I am able.

I knew my solids, liquids and gases,
but couldn't really tell what matters,
playing fifa but deaf to the blatters.

I started filling the gram with heavy sounding poems like this,
thinking yeah this will show them,
I'm part of the fam,
I too, a proud African,
I'm in the loop, I understand,
even if I didn't really need a tissue when Mr ***** mouth ******* on us.

When I looked at my kin,
I never saw black gold that could fuel the world,
I was too busy being a black sheep, trying to invite everyone one to my pity party,
''the world would be so much better if everybody was more like me."
If I was a king they would call me apathy.
although he took my penalty I took his gift so casually like a chip.

They marched on in procession,
I forgot my profession,
Got used to my chains,
losing direction,
it would be weird to take them off like a wristwatch,
tick tock.

I have to get back to simply city,
Trust in His foolish wisdom,
leaf behind so I can branch on,
learn to take off my specs every time that I log in.

Change my locus,
media makes it hard to focus,
forget the locusts and use the remainder,
see all the division disturbed mine,
family and friends I left behind,
I expected the watchmen to bark at the sight of the poacher,
desiring to **** agape,
forgetting love as quickly as harambe.
things get shaggy when velma can't see the clues.

I guess I was a dead dog,
****** doomed,
let the leaven grow on my trunk,
you could see it when the fungus grew and leeched on my nutrients,
slowly but surely my heart began to rot,
fearing that this gentile man had been branched off after playing with the moss.

I know I can be extra and do the most and can make faith look look complicated which it isn't,
I've had seasons of confusion which certainly weren't from the King,
he tries to steer me away from the flames that will grill me,
but I lose courage and act like a chicken from nandos,
he's not like the hungry lion,
always prowling at my week's mess,
to truly be strong one needs to be weakend,
we couldn't read the daily mail if it wasn't for the red posts.

He's debonair and gentle so now I'll take his orders,
I hope he can deliver me,
I'm encouraged by the romans,
sometimes it's just hard to express
how much Jesus changed the way I sea things,
even when storms are tough,
I don't want to lose my seasoning.

They're many silly lies that become stumbling blocks when He's supposed to be the only one,
misinformation like the titanic,
that mislead the sheep,
listening to the assassins creed,
busy brooding in their sleeper cells.

If I was a woman I'd be the one at the well,
a random Jane doe never seeing my blindspots,
hoeing around like a rabbit,
digging a broken cistern that can't hold water,
cause God came to make things pretty,
after I made them ugly.

When I sin I think about Sinai,
got all these ankle weights strengthening my golden calves,
maybe it would be better to ponder Golgotha,
maybe my bones will live if I take the flesh off,
He came to help me but I scoffed him,
he came to heal me but I licked the wounds of my old wineskin.

Despite all the unnecessary complexity and errors of my ways,
all I have left is to trust that the blood of the lamb doesn't clot,
even when I act like a goat,
even when I let my heart turn to stone,
when I can't see past the thicket,
he'll ram past the chest of my fears,
crush the treasures of my heart,
so I can be free to blow the horn of salvation for all men,
that we may never be extinct,
whether sudan or 'abyad,
to receive the free invitation,
to be reconciled with the God of creation,
a call to enjoy true liberation.

Dreams of love, reflecting life.
Imaginary lies of a blackened mirror,
Promising fairy tales and forever
For the stricken fools heart.

Anger and disappointment,
Casting the looking glass.
Upon the floor perfect dreams
Scatter to the wind, thousands of shards.

Painful, broken memories
Piercing an angels feet.
Fallacies and wishes draining the life,
A broken dream at a time.

"If only", and "what if" mock the night.
Her happiness, not from love's spell.
As the tears drown the blood.
And the blood reminds the heart.

The enchanted heart dreams of its mate.
As its mate longs for another's lies.
Walking to and fro upon the bed of glass,
Self made lies adorn the mornings glimmer.

As the remaining love and final prayer leave.
The weakend soul dies one last time.
A final farewell, and kiss my ***
As the lights fades one final time.

I am here
I am here
To live and to share

This seed died into what felt like 8 inches of black dirt  

Black dirt, a scent i love to smell
you know a scent that makes you smile that makes you think that today is much brighter than yesterday, a sunnier day you haven’t felt for quite a while

One drip of bitter water is what made that seed grow left and right but not up,
up to the sky where it believed it thought it was with the stars that gazed at it and it gazed back with admiration wishing it be beautiful as them

It was lavished with clear fresh water everyday but at night, at night those nights of your bitter water that at times it felt it was all It lived for

I need it, I need it, I want it, I want it…..I think I want it

Till its realization its coat had been planted, soaked, planted soaked planted soaked planted soaked planted soaked planted and soaked and weakend into dirt

And no not that fresh black scented dirt that made it smile that made it feel like a brand new day

It was the kind of dried dirt that leaves your mouth dry as if a sand storm had hit it that now choked it

The belief of air was just inconceivable to it. When left alone for too long it needed its water for no one else noticed it, needed it,
Or so it thought

This night it thought it wanted one drip it made it nervous knowing that that bitter taste was not right its first does was fun for it was touched all around its shell cool and smooth

It thought it thought it thought is what woke it up to realize it wasn’t what it thought it wanted

Its last does change it all
8 silent months it was left alone with no sound thought everyone else made it while they passed and laughed

Roouunnd and surrounded it yelled for the sacred water of life

There it is there it is a pair of eyes a pair of hands and one heart
You are worth more than this dried up dirt that’s compressed your coat that’s tainted your soul even with you own words
To something. You are not
They don’t love me they don’t love me they don’t love me shouting believing that whatever touched it that whatever tried to provide nutrition nobody loved it

Lable the one I can't be
Something grand
Ampersand
Ladle the rest that can't see the real me
Lazily into a bowl
Of
Fickle faithless friendemies
Set up a stand
Free please
I've got too many of these
And I'm weakend
Lacerated by shattered mirrors infused with vanity
Begining to believe
I'm naive I bleed
In reflection
I bleed  
I take these silvery pieces from my flesh
Make an effigy
Of me
Red stained mosaic
Mirroring the twisted  picture my mind's eye sees  
Thinkin the world still  seeing the  me
I used to be
Mangled with fears
Of what the future brings

Macerated over years
In secret tears


Regrets slowly set down bitter roots
Their poison setting in

Introspect

Has got the best of me


I  view it

Bitterly