GENESIS 9:6 INVERSED
All poets are bombs
And we must explode now
For our lovers is the sun
And we have chosen to die in the heavens
What is more holier than to be dead by God?
Poets explode the stars of God
Inspired by: N/A, poem was from own unpublished work.
Beyond black breakers
beneath dancing stars
on white ocean's crest
I ride the turbulence....
a universal melting pot of emotion
where foreign feelings defuse
in this the final breeding ground
we are all alike for that one moment....
then wash away....or float forever...
thrown to the tide
with the slipshot hesitancy
of a young boy skipping rocks
across the water for the first time....
on the shore....I am alone again
images of my second grade
shovel and pail lay at my feet
(still dusty from castle construction)
I am half blanketed
in the shadow of my fortress
the comfort of its strength
soothes me with bedtime morals
that will always hold out
against the blows
of the big bad wolf
Orange cars are on their way
Pavement slabs are sinking
Water streams in disarray
Rather I’d be drinking
But today I have no wine
And I’m short on beer
Come to share my tea with thyme
Time to take a veer
In the autumnal decay
Feeling very sober
For today’s a special day
The fifth of October
Here’s the best news of the world
Back in times of peace
Zep came out with their third
Genesis released
Selling England, Elton John
Said goodbye to his
Yellow road he walked upon
Quite a date this is.
The crescent settled
behind you, wrapped in silk night,
wearing jasmin orange behind her ears.
I wondered: if she overheard
our brewing midnight; could she tell?
From the gleaming stars in my eyes
that I’m nothing if not a sailor
lost in azure, in awe
of treasures shimmering silver.
In the heat of silence, could she hear?
The pounding, quickened steps of
spring, sprinting across time—
Frogs break free from their winter hide,
I hear blushed wings hum
impromptu tunes of perfection, and kisses
that felt like summer grass’s touch.
Sealed, in the envelope
addressed to spring when she catches up.
Rough Draft
[Hook]
Despite all these doubts he shouts at the demons
From now on You cant talk me out of believing
He realized this the right time to get even
Cause he knows there is no sequel
Rough verse
feeling so helpless
So doubtful of my financial welfare
who the hell cares but I do
there is a need to grind hard 9 to 9
to find some dime
for my family
In the midst of all, there comes my dream again
the desire to make money from what I love
it's the music i use to fuse it with my brutal thoughts and suffering
but how? someone like me too far from america
go toe to toe with these juggernauts
Eminem, Kendrick Lamar, Cole, Nas, abel and Bruno mars
but you know what sometimes I feel confident
other days I feel like I'll not fit in mind playin games with me rock, papers but not scissors
coz I cant cut off these dark thoughts outta my vessel
I feel so restless
constant battle inside the oblongata and the grey matter
If I should take one step ahead and risk my life
or should I stay where I am stare my struggle
I don't know where to begin
unbearable it is
When the land was smooth, life brand-new
In Eden, there lived one, then two
Since the Earth's dawn, man walked as youth
Life brand-new, when the land was smooth
In the garden were two sweet blooms
Under the care of watchful grooms
Viscous phrases made ears harden
Two sweet blooms were in the garden
Between grapevines, our foe hid
Still in great ruling halls amid
Presents his wrath like mocking wines
Our foe hid between grapevines
Broken cisterns marking his path
Like mocking wines presents his wrath
The cast of youth weakly discerns
Marking his path, broken cisterns
over 2 years have past now.
i serve my time everyday,
not knowing my offence.
i work everyday to meet your needs.
how long lord, how long….
my beautiful Rachel.
i am not Jacob in this story,
i stand the place of Esau,
what was mine taken by Jacob.
still i will suffer for Rachel,
for the love that once burned hot in winter.
it has not yet been 7 years.
so is there still a slight possibility?
not only i be with you in dreams,
a life of fulfilled desires,
for it has only been a few days.
we were only children,
playing in the frosty air.
now we are young adults,
separated in this life that is unfair.
cherry blossoms
b l o o m
amongst bleak
midnight
winter ~
resurgence
of h o p e
i remember now
the sucking whoosh and rattle
of my life
as I was uprooted
still squirming - caught now
in the slalom clutch
of a blood smeared latex glove
a world as cold as a morgue
coagulated around senseless perceptions
a fluent reality that dripped slowly
into clotted forms
for a moment I wallowed
in that instinctual mud
that is both a sacrifice
and a subterfuge
a lamb born not to suckle
but to swallow all before it
if i was aware of anything
other than
my newly crushed heart
it was just the fading echo
of an erstwhile progenitor
either weeping
or laughing
For the blessed fruits of the blessed tree of life’s being,
Persecution and crucifixion have their time in life’s seasons;
Their demise coming with seasons of resurrection and ascension:-
Seasoning of life from Genesis to Revelations, has its time;
Let us ever be mindful that we’re fruits of God’s balboa tree of life,
With a quartet of years to sow and cultivate our seeds of justice:-
Thus, it’s time to get plowing and uprooting unjust seeds
Sown in the God given riverside just soil of His trees;
Indeed, as faithful garden balboa trees of God given life,
May we be in the blooming of ripe fruits His coming justice:-
May our plow sheds be ever fully stocked with tools of courage
And faithful determination, cultivating us with God sent liberation:-
And while trials and tribulations may endure for grueling nights,
Let us be bearers of fruitful mornings;
Indeed, let us be as the fruiting sun in joyous dawning liberation,
And let bigotry be as a waning moon:-
All dreams are unreal and yet they appear,
wherein ego assumes a specific role,
so knowing this, no object to us is dear,
save God’s boundless love and light, which we extol.
In deep sleep each night, we return to our home,
a singularity, where throbs the gong Om
but on waking up in this domain dual,
delusion grips us, unless love’s our fuel.
music of the spheres
imbibed by resonation ~
heart lotus opens
ripples in the void convey
the sound of one hand clapping
Noah commissioned a wee dove as his ocean scout.
It ventured out three times seeking sprigs of life.
On the third try, it brought back hope to all mankind.
I would have chosen an albatross for the task.
It's more suited for gliding over open ocean.
With its keen, salty eyes and great wingspan.
It could have done the deed in half the time.
Perhaps the dove was more efficient and intelligent.
Maybe the albatross lacked focus and discipline.
Been tempted by the sirens of fog and froth.
Did it feel disrespected for not being commissioned?
Chronically depressed, deep in the ribs of Noah's Genesis ship.
do you really see beauty in my rotting mind
are there rain clouds in my eyes
that the mirror cannot show me
can you really see the life in my veins
that hides itself from me
the strength that waits to be awakened
hibernating in my tired body
underneath layers of withered skin
would you really be willing to help peel back
the surface, to let my new flesh breathe
though it reeks of ancient sadness
and mold; a skepticism of growth
i’ve drowned the seed inside with blood
sweat and tears, yet you speak of its potential
slowly watering it with patient tenderness
softening its hard outer shell
do you still think i have a green thumb
though i have not yet unlocked it
do you really see delicacy amidst the dead
the soul camouflaged in putrescence
God's creations
Is love mission
In every eyes.
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