blessings // buttons y'all ~ here is where you can push the buttons of meaning and poetic interpretations of angel & angle windows of insight. peek around, there's a lot to see. (you may discover a key) For me? To sew is bestow! (buttons are like seeds) my aim is to frame THAT name : my sight is to ignite and thus write N2 PARADISE CLARITY. (for what is understanding if not for the s3arch & struggle to get there?)
Wait (Weigh) The Minute! TyPo Or FaiTh (Fate)? IS OUT NOW FOR YOUR LISTENING PLEASURE!
This Audio book is the first of which i’ve ever done and the LONGEST project I created , running in at 2 hours and 12 minutes and 40 seconds! it makes sense it would be about the length of a feature film! this is also a project i’ve been working on for the last 5 years. My first book (Paradise Clarity) is a poetry opus of 460 pages conceptualizing the framework behind my writing since 2013.
Whereas, this book is a recorded notion of my past, present, and future. It speaks to the awareness that comes with being balanced about the things that happen to us on in our journey through life.
This book has 3 narrations : First of which is narrated by Balaam’s Don_Key found the scripture in Numbers Chapter 22 wherein Balaam is stopped in his tracks after his donkey ‘BRINGS HIM TO HIS ATTENTION ON WHERE HE IS GOING. ESSENTIALLY, HIS DONKEY MADE A TYPO* OF HIS USUAL FATE. Secondly, it loosely follows the life of Tomson who grew up in a Pentecostal Holiness Church of God in Christ. Much of which is my personal story (alongside with many who’ve had similar experience with the church.) Lastly, this is an audio search, which attempts to explain the reactions of such dispositions of both the Angle and Angel!
May you enjoy and listen in your own time!
Click The Video For Time Stamps!
TABLE CONTENTS (LIST OF CHAPTERS)
INTRODUCTIONS: ANGLES, ANGELS, & THE DON_KEY
ASLEEP // ALARM
(CHAPTER 1: OVER HERE? AIN’T OVER THERE!)
(CHAPTER 2: DIFFERENT LENS, DIFFERENT PENS)
(CHAPTER 3: WORLDS WITHIN THE WORLD)
(CHAPTER 4: TELL HIM YES!)
(CHAPTER 5: TRANSITION OF TRADITION)
(CHAPTER 6: CONGREGATIONAL SONG? ALL TOGETHER NOW!)
in part 10 of this series, i sew a one hole button that fell off from one of my favorite jackets! it’s all good when you got embroidery thread secured with a tightly held knot !
i’ve been burned by the age of sincerity treatment glanced in kindness but cast soon n2 a fomented vulgarity not all plants bloom in prosperity despite our will to train both hands with balanced dexterity going with your most familiar hand, is guided by a cyclical plan. “don’t act sh😮cked”
credit to: @mainlymannie
if you did not see it coming, one could ask : if you bothered to look. or read the book? instead you decided to axe! quite literally choping between reasonable and assumed recognition of suspicion! or in other words – littering in the street as opposed of putting that said ‘thing’ in it’s designed place which ever is the case – designation is imperative. this is the marquee narrative : “some things should be thrown away because it’s simply trash. all the while remembering: anything & anyone that is life sustaining, can be made to splash and re-hash! whatever may fall, whoever will call and however you ball : depends on which side your ladder is planted against the wall! when we close our eyes – chapters reveal themselves in silent formation. without hesitation we become the warning of the morning! one that repeats an ongoing conversation, full of sensation! our will bows down to the reaction of prostrated tendencies… with ‘friends’ like those in the past, who needs enemies? LITERALLY LiTeRrEd was the consequence of forgotten and careless action – ain’t it about time that we take our part in fraction, without any delaying distraction?
This may welcome us to the GLITTER OF AN ANSWER (Throwback n2 July 2016):
what happens when your mountains climb against broader & deeper watered fountains?
what’s inside? ‘configurations that can’t hide.”
checking in & following up to the upcoming notions. rising oceans request that while come what may – but, umm…NOT TODAY!
in the eye of the star, the distance recommends a bridge that’s seemingly far, but it is closer in dimension than the opened and limited tension.
whatever this may mean, the search for this poem is to engage the new year added, but yet held in place and continuously padded.
nervousness servicing as a reminder; that messages can be received as destiny proves as a navigable pathfinder.
if one decides to take the pill, they either will or keep still.
there’s a lot caught in between, this dream and the ongoing scheme.
numbers are thrilled to incite more or less, depending on which equation configures best.
there’s always a daily test engaged to inflict you with reasonable arrest, struggle to figure it out so that you ain’t pressed!
for, the pull of the finger is due to many ‘o’ allures, which endorphins may – deny as unsolicited brochures.
when in fact the message that was RED only SAID : WE ARE ALREADY IN THE BELLY OF THE BEAST, MANY MORE ARE BEING AFFECTED – HERE IS HOW YOU CAN BE CONNECTED TO OTHERS IN THE DIASPORA!
we thought, we already told ya – you can’t be a menace and a fool! you must be guided by a humanist and thus a socialist rule!
Look around at the already had and made degradation seen clear by the visible functions to keep the poor, out the door of anything resembling ‘more’.
all of your interactions and moments are foreknown by thought and what ought to be brought to nought.
there’s enough to share with the collective Masses, but first we must seize power!
At this hour and the next: this shouldn’t be perceived as too complex – it’s written on the half of what has already been told.
Silver and gold, forever sold as reachable outcomes when they’re only extended sums of crumbs.
As the signs make clear, our dearest fear is a mirror proxy, steered by what we revere.
DO people mean more than money, or are we left to wither outside where its never sunny?
The options are already made and as its been said : LOVE ain’t no diamond ring, but it should be the call of action in which we sing.
If by digging into the head of the last, we might see what is intending to come to pass.
like a drinkable chalice framed in glass, when broken – bad luck is superstitions’ fuel and gas.
positioned by far too many ends, where friends meet around the bend like Huckle Berry captions.
The idea is not in action, but damned & cursed by a circumference ridden hoop,encoded in a loop.
It was captured and swiftly swooped by a mission enforced by a carefully planned coupe.
This kind of subversion is meant to distract upon a random excursion into territories charting conversion.
Before you know it, the whole subject was changed and made into a inverted AI invention.
if thoughts gathered and sorted themselves out at a convention, who would stay and what would be cause for suspension?
These are some of the questions that need to be on the table, as horses remind us to keep stable.
We can be understanding and able, in fact even when the cable is not charged, a wire can be set ablaze.
The maze belonging to this fire, can’t ever be put out when the attire is this striking hot!
the threads are contained in one unified knot, sustainability regenerative with a forward ever burning watt!
as in yellow, the color of the SuN that is not yet done!
while the fun rolls over into a green pastured 3 leaf cLoVeR.
“HAY!” as in – the grass that’s been freshly cut.
HeY as in – the meandering strut.
“heyyy” as in what’s up?
“eye see what you got going ON, & it stirs a desire for me to yield fields of cultivation n2 your garden lawn.”
(at the break of dawn)
“hey, hey” as in – checking on the “when” of the spin.
“hEy.” as in – it’s the morning and you ain’t trying to be charming on what it all means?
“HEY!!!” as in – you gotta rip in your jeans!
“hey!” as in – what you got to say?“HEYYYY!” as in – the 14th of MaY!which is tOdAy & ToNiGhT – ain’t that RIGHT ?!
Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there! this is also dedicated to my grandmother Gammie! she would always say “hey is for horses” – if anyone introduced themselves in that manner : she wouldn’t mind you saying “hi” or “hello” but HAY? was always reserved for horses! 🐴🐎🎠
for those who rather listen and watch 🙂 here you go!
the present is new! i thought you knew? there isn’t anything like: doing the creation as it manifests itself right now. why frown? well, if you are looking into the past? you’ll surely be cast lambast, very fast! not that, a critical view is always promised to undo. but, tongues of another time, requires proper rhyme of mind! the setting of growth is materially based! a framework unseen, is a straight drink with no chase! ain’t it better to soften your head to something smooth instead? this isn’t to suggest that you don’t need a spike! but a walk and jog shouldn’t be a steep hike! you can climb without fostering blisters in your heels! for a meal on wheels, nurture the stomach as well as emotional reels! someone has to be willing, to carry the goods from here & near: and way across the long extended table! it’s not that folks ain’t able, but often, they deny what is rightfully owed to them! we are conditioned to pick at the wider & not the slim! but if we start at the line presented right in front of us, we can tackle the other connecting waving vines as we proceed… this is why we must read! we gotta feed, the overall context in understanding pretext and what will naturally come next! the seedlings of starlight? are grazing night by a munch and bite! darkness crawls into a vacant stall. encouraging the seize of it all. *for power and the aim of the collective voice should be to forward ever to a centralized & decided choice! after all, how could ‘the present knew’ not know the ostracized past and future you?!
the will to create must be matched by the energy to engage in the process. get yourself something to graze upon. like janet sings in ‘The Knowledge’. (it’s what you really want!)
it’s time to slide ourselves into the recognition of this work. starting with me. i have to thank Kirk Hammett from Metallica in his recent ‘So What’ interview (@ 49 min mark) where he went on to discuss the inspiration in something new! as opposed to reaching out in the past and giving attention to that.
Today is also the 7th year anniversary of ‘Characters In The Wind’ which was a very pivotal moment towards the shaping and endeavor of a new project. Shoutout to Jeremy Garner and his family for providing me a place to stay with warm greetings and love. Everyone who was involved who I list in the credits I experienced a lot of joy and pain around 2016 but this was the completion of a dream, I had in me a year propr. Prince had just transcended 3 weeks prior and I was aiming to accept the more recent direction of my life. Looking back at Characters In The Wind, I’m glad I was obedient to the call to create it!
THANK EVERYONE BY WATCHING AND READING THE CREDITS!
you can’t keep forward if you give shadows lip service. this will keep your body extremely nervous. i can witness that sight of juggling of glasses : holding theory, practice, and capacity in unbalanced configurative classes. it’s not ever just one thing. the song i sing, is a dance of what may be the last chance.
everyday i have to confront this life – extending myself the will to fight. to win! to this end : i recommend that you do as George Jackson recommended : Settle your quarrels, come together, understand the reality of our situation, understand that fascism is already here, that people are already dying who could be saved, that generations more will live poor butchered half-lives if you fail to act. Do what must be done, discover your humanity and your love in revolution.”
it was you: a potted plant that stood next to me i assumed firstly it was a tree only to realize it was only my shadow relinquished inside of me decaying outside of darkened walls dimly lit halls invite me to walk slowly as the ceiling is found squealing on the top with all four sides crashing into the tides
attempts at crossing albeit the finely needed flossing is taking a part my wailing heart the lies, deceit and fomented cries have reached the point of stagnant lullabies by the agency of explanation, WHAT in the carnation? flowers and rocks aside their shallowness is wandering like its cross-eyed
go ahead and jump in. get burned by the desire to win! you might as well recommend: fire or even shaved ice
whatever sounds nice…
what about a snake bite? a poisoned and a blistered kite flying high into air questioning if the wind is playing fair
decided momentum cast fast visions myriad of the past cranking up the blast of the last
fallen through by shelled echoes speaking voices sunken by resented promises leaking through my dreams split a part at the seams
packed like crumbs in aluminum foil a desire to eat is guaranteed to spoil
18 x 4 = 72 SEASONS GONE spring, summer, autumn, winter they’ve been burned alive! The ghosts of the past meet & greet @ a promised re-retreat! starting from age of 1 until 18: but what does that mean? the molding hands of the last, finds my youth, laying down on the holy bench hearing whispers from the elders and missionaries that eye plead for G-d to quench me and the world of all our sins! they recommend that i enclose my anxiety into avoidance. abandoning my instinct and the voice inside echoes were heard in the night awakening us to turn over into the light you can run but you can’t hide the evening pierces your day and enclosed eyes with sounds of agony and cries for help wishing to be seen as in understood when your transgressions shoulder against what feels good alerting you to waving inflictions, which swoon your addictions to higher lands stronger commands gone are the plans for correction inside a deeply syringed injection the heart beats and races on seeing how those SHADOWS FOLLOW! the darkness comes in various forms like roses to thrones and CROWNS OF BARBED WIRE (tempting you to fight fire with fire! heavy is the head which faces the dead SCREAMING INSIDE : that SUICIDE be the bed in which one confides CHASING THE LIGHT! within the dream you SLEEP WALK YOUR LIFE AWAY into a gripping blindness you aim to go, full speed or nothing! lux eterna! temptation all around you it parades you through & through ! IF DARKNESS HAD A SON – will you undo what your father has done? or are you TOO FAR GONE? in a ROOM FULL OF MIRRORS and reflections what’s ahead of you is also what is soon behind you. the shavings of dried remains of misery requests that you be well that you stay and fade into their company – dried, expired, and stale ! but you can say no! planting with the seeds of stillness, our garden will grow! this i know!
it’s ridiculous, i know but SO WHAT! Metallica is dope y’all!
if i positioned myself in front of a wall & it dared to communicate with my call; it would have more to say : than the words you are trying to play.
if roadkill found on the busy street, was collected and stored in your house and made into a taxidermy suite: those dead animals would have more to speak than your climb against my mountain peek.
if lights would dim and walls could shake, they would have more of merit than what you have attempted to make.
thus:
consider me: the left over penny found in your pocket when you leave your clothes out to wash.
or even the lint inside your dryer that you forgot to clean out and squash.
i am the cloud that once appeared but no longer aims to be here!
cast me aside, like an atheist would a spiritual guide
forget my colonial name, my perceived fame, and any claims gathered to make you sane
burn me away like a tainted scroll: that speaks with volumes of blasphemy
roll me over like loaded dice – molded by a promised fallacy
all i’m saying is : recoiling your focus to something more sustainable, means the flowers in your garden could truly grow!
THE MORE YOU KNOW!
for if one can not tend to / cultivate / nurture real live plants, getting fake ones for aesthetic purposes, is ok! i remember thinking i was being played like i was stupid but the playing kept happening; and i was quickly reminded : they’re ‘playing’ this role a little too well so maybe they really are the ones stupid & if i keep going along with their ‘playing’ i’d be just as stupid 🤡🎪🤹🏾 they say: “hate the circus but don’t hate the clown : but i reckon both the circus and clown share more in common than they differ. we could all benefit from having a venn diagram analysis. DIALECTICAL MATERIALISM, y’all! which is to say – everything has positives and negatives as nothing is 100% ‘Bad’ or 100% ‘Good’ there is a relationship between two forces and ‘The Struggle’ exists for the greater and more beneficial force to overcome. nothing stays the same ever! this is the law of impermanence.
i’m overwhelmed by the pull of the draw. (it wasn’t the spade, but the jack that was the last straw!) photogenic cards are decked by an echo of recurring antagonisms. so, which move should be played? for merely, ‘okayed’ was the stream and number. but the wailing next is met with slumber. visibly counting the feelings inside as they are surrounded by a distant blue cloud. while the rain rescues all of those in shelter to listen out loud. pairings of energy are reminiscent of a baffling scent : cinnamon faces colorize spaces giving them room to vent. yet, i wish to remain in the stillness of my refrain. (blame the rain) consequently, removed from the tree emerging from the root and bumble bee. arising like a mumbling humming bird.(singing every word!) but slipping by slippery slopes which give into hope! catastrophic temptations illuminate at the silver screen reviewing my movement by asking: WHAT DOES IT MEAN?! iridescent stones roam my pallet by casting the predestined ballot it’s a mixed salad but the taste nonetheless takes my ‘dome’ at a place not adjacent to ‘home’ it’s CuMuLaTiVe – not exactly diminutive but layered sheets of increase, faintly continue to release as to keep the peace with nearby wandering geese i could say a lot more, but you’re already walking out the door! 🙄🚪🚶🏿
even when stranded on teary oceans, my eyes promise building notions…
“what did the sea say to the boat?”
“you’ve become a little to holy, now you’re unable to float.”
what is going down is determined by what’s been found around and by the ‘who’ has already been made the clown.
follow the makeup but not on your face !oh this is what they mean when they claim, the packaging is free!material conditions people!boffum y’all!fascism ain’t coming, it’s already here!unsustainable retreatconnected politics closed open
it’s going but it’s coming right through me piercing: like a damned paper cut lemon twist and a salty nut desecrate my pain on the inside overflowing with thoughts, exposing what ought if bought by pride it ain’t nothing but a thing but also a breast, leg, thigh, & a chicken wing the odorless will to create has found its mate by slipping away all day traveling but by a nameless guidance reverting relying on an obscurity bent, found flirting how can we determine whether this is true? my attempt at writing it out : is to find: the second, third, or replicated hue.
i don’t understand? it doesn’t land! did you mean to use that ‘word’ or am i to assume a duplicitous scene? is the grass green or are you intentionally making it ObScEnE? is it supposed to – sound like a train? or more of a melodic morning rain?
tears do not always revere what has been taken away from me. crying from the inside, to embarrassingly : figure out what’s left to be done, as the sun shines while my shadow was out on a part-time run.
crushed like a pillar on the eve of mountain, pennies wishing into eros fountain. as rivers are depleted, spirits ascend and request: that i be seated, but instead my sadness is repeated.
what’s really standing out in the front?
“you can’t see the forest, for the trees especially if you’re asking on your knees! demand and reprimand as to affirm the line! you ain’t gotta hold it ALL in your mind: may your lip bring the florescent drip so that they ain’t caught like a banana and quickly slip!”
for though it rains heavy, my clothes were not ready. especially them shoes, they got it the worst. but it was my backpack that learned the lesson first. a whirlwind and unexpected mass soak up. it’s like my clothes were begging to be washed and made clean. even as the water did not redeem, or so it would seem?
y’all ever met anyone that starts everything with a negation? it’s a tRiP!
it’s always nah, nope, and no with them. “you know eye see your point truly, but i don’t think it’s just that.” i think i know where you’re getting at, but i’d argue : it could be that too but i don’t think it’s JUST that. even if you’re not saying that, it’s also implied that this is the situation. i don’t know where you’re getting at but i am saying no. it ain’t just that. from what you just replied, nah…i’ll say this :
there’s truly a lot to be sad about when you take the tRiP to read and pay attention to the things around you. there’s indeed a tRiP in every day experiences. for the masses of humanity, we are experiencing deep pain via global oppression by capitalism, imperialism, and patriarchy. most of us are too shy to talk about the deep pains we experience in our lives, because for 1) we are socialized to individualize our problems and remain in our own vacuums . 2) being told that we should not burden anyone with our personal misfortunes. 3) Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps and don’t talk about things that make us uncomfortable. However, it is when we take the initiative to be willing to struggle with folks that brings about respect and dignity.
IT’S JUST OUR PAIN!!!
it’s the actual pain that keeps us attentive as to why we are alive. one of my favorite lyrics that often goes through my head is “tears and rain are all the same, the only way to win this game – is to let everybody play and share the ball.” – Lavaux
Not enough pain is being shared and that’s definitely part of the problem. Tripping over various dips on the surface and below. There’s certainly a cause and effect. A relationship exists between the ‘hear’ and ‘there’ and this is ultimately everywhere! looking into the reasons while acknowledging the passing seasons.
dedicated to all the tRiPs and DiPs sent to make us sLiP…
caring wears a visible garment. love being an action word, that means it is most realized when in motion / demonstration. ideas set in mind only, ain’t got nothing on the tangible material. reality responds to a set of conditions which dictate the frame and name of any particular phenomena.
the all seeing eye does not spy but it does try
figuring out what set you off into this abyss a clown’s kiss regarded as a pleasurable mischief
entering into crowns & tiara’s glory should mean a head being chopped off – cuz’ that’s a class struggle story.
like a cat tickling the glass lofty bushes will fall, & when this inevitably comes to pass: will you go to the party or a parade in the green grass?
as you left the party, that was throwing confetti by breaking away first, as if to start but you still ain’t ready
darn the surprise and damn those eavesdropping eyes melodic boom bombs ministered to me in psalms
with every page i was radiated by their finesse their soliloquy fully weighted with a thin press could it be either their style? or delicate galloped mile?
everywhere they went? my change quickly spent! (as in) easily transformed with focused attention to their scent, while unselfishly paying rent
a smile wide as the moon frown as arduous as using a fork instead of a spoon making the differences difficult to reconcile
feeling impatient while waiting in line:
“can i get 10 breakfast platters, with extra biscuits and honey?” said the mf in front of me at the fast food joint, they probably didn’t order that much but the wait proved a ridiculous point.
the metrics upon my thoughts land in a planned dream you appeared in a multicolored dress i confess: it was tempting when you came my way in the midnight gray when you suspected my thoughts were distant reminded of our touch which subconsciously i missed very much even as long ago weeps for a much desired sleep action is misplaced on the table of distant seas waters placing us a part while the heart attempts to start my standing still wishes for you to move near to alarm my every symphony so that my vision can hear the word spoken back then, i still understood when we lived in the same neighborhood i neglected the requested chance i was too nervous to dance embarrassed by your movements and step i kept all my rhythm enclosed until the water flowed to the seeds, i then arose froze but dripping to the splendid occasion wherein this invasion became translucent (upon the metrics of these same thoughts : this summary of a melodic swoon my fullness was regarded as the moon walking like mj backwards to the stolen tune yet we sang with fascination, admiration & rightful sensation! (memories restores faith and hope; the contradiction in this is that : memories needn’t be rushed to be created.)
Acknowledge the space around you and LOOK at those FACES, in public SPACES! Let your EYES : REALIZE, the activity of your surroundings! Notice the detail, and take sight at the array of any possible dismay Pay attention to what’s happening!
Get out the way (or stand in the way) of a flammable aggression Put pride in your steps and alert yourself to the upcoming succession! Be a student to the way of the odd smirk! AgAin : set your feelings aside & commit to doing the work!
Can’t you hear them :beating those tambourines DOWN? it’s all AROUND! Trembling SOULS flustered but they still sound like prayerful mediation Tibetan BOWLS all of the while they are harmonizing between their FLUTES & anointed BOOTS ! attempting to make a WiLd SCENE cuz the GREEN stays OBSCENE !
(You’d think i’m being MEAN!)
it’s starting to look frfr aBsUrD : the performance is the DRIP that was once a SLIP N2 the action that gave it all the LIP. it’s a TRIP! Now y’all probably gonna be exhausting trying to connect all the RHYMES and TIMES you once heard, how you could fly or float. irrespective of the algorithmic ILLUSION or the perplexing CONFUSIONS parroting as GOLD. It’s all still SHINNY & WHINNY due to all the lies that are TOLD. I AM MISSING MY MAKEUP! A face that needs to ‘BEAT-IT’ like Yum on the STREETS. Consider me in HEAT as i show up as the GOO to the end of your SHOE. SURPRISE Mother fuc****! i’m the GUM that returns your face twisted, in sight, & NUMB. Because they decided to spot you; by artificial and AI sequenced WIRE. burning by FIRE hot as NERVOUSNESS is at your SERVICE. SENSITIVE cuz this is a FESTIVE ITCH. Like a Content WITCH on a broom stick. like the CLOCK contradicting the TICK TOCK. but yet? scrolling ENDLESSLY. You care not to take IT ALL IN? To fizzle out and SPIN. because you’ve been curated to a menu of potential ENDS. being hosted by superfluous FRIENDS . You hAve laughed yourself WELL! So, take a SWELL, gallop into the deep dirt ROADS. DON’T YOU feel THOSE poly rhythmic CODES? listen as they are blowing with the mist of the black and white KEYS. now PLEASE: understand this was an intentional long extended word salad, intending to CONVEY what you SHOULD HAVE GUESSED ANYWAY!
“what was once a party is a frivolous CHARADE until a festival PARADE revealed it all to be, an ambiguous MASQUERADE !!!”
speaking softly to the village dame he requested that he be chosen to play her game odds and perpendicular chances were in his favor desiring the allure of her symphonic narration and for the tour of her harmonic salvation to be met with a qualified or undignified correction (even if it meant subjection or rejection!)
this was his fate at odds by an uneven gate broken belonged to the lock, though pigeons remained on top with a wailing gawk superstitious anomalies affirmed vacant policies none bearing the condition of a playable rendition NOT TO MENTION: this is what perplexed him the most their sway held in the everyday of her disarray , eager for aligned scenes with multi-lingual tongues from the south and to the north of queens
if one could redeem a summary that is a recovery of time spent, sleeping indifferences would allow transgressions the space to vent his longing for the belonging of qualified amends may lend to slanted cut pieces cuffed by enemies instead of friends
returning back to the neighborhood of playmates and athletic ends meant being denied the sport and the elasticity which guaranteed material bends
the risk of being dismissed became the challenge accepted as with a chaste and hardened heart, wisdom afforded the incumbent appeal, neglected
futuristic fantasy…where the ***💜**** party people be!
the sigh that lent unspoken words, no one has ever heard. whispered prose which stirred sought to answer the blank space.
Featuring a scandal made righteous:
come here! You righteous scandal, I think you are a bit more to handle!
But I’m willing to catch you, if you stand in the way of getting got.
cuz’ you’re smoking hot _ I rather be denied than to not be given any chance.
to imagine of our sweaty dance – it may be a proven “righteous scandal.”
a candle much too hot, that soon it’ll burning.
melting by the woe of learning.
how can’t eye see? what’s lit up right in front of me.
I have no choice according to the inner doubting voice.
but my eyes clothes with fashionable express, textures and buttons draped with incomparable dress.
a feeling I can’t compare, as your colors endeavor to void the unfair.
if given the opportunity , I’d renew my immunity
to refrain from the masquerade in order for a fair trade N2 a memorial street, even with callused feet – I’ll greet your direction to a formulated and poetic perfection. (even if it meant potential rejection!)
your bounce is far to like jelly. it’s making me realize why eye turn off the telly.
choosing to instead read what lies in between.
as nuance reveals what all of it may mean…
like a multi-colored photo book, my mind is far too curious to NOT look.
those succulent thighs, make me yawn thirst trapping sighs.
natural to my instinct , I can’t help but think into a deep fantasy.
basically? my testimony is a desired ceremony in a transitional rhapsody !
featuring both you and I congregated together in full supply…
“Umm, if you are clocking in, you would need to use the other computer, yeah the one inside … THANK YOU!”don’t say thank you. say EXCUSE ME or i beg your pardon, or simply F*CK YOU. because that’s what you mean. from your posture – to the very attitude that embodies your demeanor. every trace of your fallen grace is SEEN. you didn’t have to spell it out to me, Karen. clearly you missed your morning errands. that is until i showed up : first in line – to be shouted at with your raging tempered stance. at first glance : i thought not to ever dare come over your way. the only thing that prompted me was my usual computer to clock in, satellites within, went thin. i analyzed in my thoughts whether i should even acknowledge the morning as good cuz surely whatever i assumed – you calculated onto me as hood! yes, i had to go there because i’m African!
me dreadlocks are long twisted and thick. (verifying in you , all the variables for the all the ticks to click!). meanwhile your fluorescent gaze is steadily amazed at my appearance. in your mind: it would be better resolved for me, if i was a product on clearance! a sale that is promised because the FINE LETTERING DECLARED IT EXACTLY THREE NINETY NINE! did i miss the sign? or am i deaf and blind? it wouldn’t matter to you even if i had a disability- for, your inability to transcribe tranquility is at influx with your raging hostility! & why is this? because i dared to clock in on the computer next to you that you were not occupying? you’d think – i’m lying ! but you said ‘THANK YOU’ so loudly – as if i were entrusting you with a gift. and why would that ever be the case? this was comparable to a flower being stolen from the soil and put into a ceramic vase. for nothing else matters : even when the glass shatters into feathered tatters. you wouldn’t dare to sweep up the pieces of what remains left behind. preferring rather, to grin kind & (with passive aggressive tenacity) the mere caudacity!
i’m welcomed to my own own envelope party! yeah! yeah! yeah! writing letters at the seams multiple colored dreams fantasies and a spelled out intention reading it all out, so that all could be mentioned
tearing open the paper for a surprise the secret in here to advise ::: the reconciliation is closed i supposed it was because the bridge could not be crossed apparel sequencing nonetheless flossed the steps removed and tossed anchoring exploitation is the name ‘bossed’ by recurring screens littered in the eyes of incapable means
when wishing to dethrone the idea of home, my expectations sprint like the legends of rome. emblematic of an extravagant moonlight affair, my apparel crafted a tailored flair. dismissing the evidentiary notion. seeking rivers or oceans instead. as the bed doesn’t lie. the mind can cry opposed to the big picture but verified by in nuance.
seeing what’s caught in between. but begging for the green to be worn like jeans. understood are the roles played. they can’t all relay because their actions play a part. contradictory elements within the genes . bullying the pressure to let go and release the SCREAM. all over and on and on. composed in note and pattern without the visitation of exact correlation or by the planet Saturn!
(this poem / song came to me in a dREaM. i was at my old church, and there were multiple envelops thrown into the air while this song was being sang by the congregation. the dREaM ended by me being toppled over by a woman who sat on me after the last note was harmonized. very colorful indeed but i don’t know what it could mean?) 😂😅🤣
embraced by the supplication of your face your canvas, strokes are embedded with grace my appetite requests plural and singular taste fed by the mercies of your wish your pallet contains variations of flavors to dish with your laughter being a festive occasion and that smile stirring all the persuasion it’s no wonder : i have been summoned as a timeless recall, at a futuristic dream ball dancing by the beat of your clairvoyant signature i hope to be extended as your acceptable visitor ringing like your heart while singing: songs draped as sonnets and meaningful conjecture enough definitions and rhymes that’ll soon lecture… Not into sleep, but unto passages of paragraphs that’ll keep you kept into the deep if you’re wondering what all of this may mean? pay attention to my intention to make you scream as i shout: powers and seasonal flowers that may awaken your planted tree with rain and gain, until you can clearly see i’m on a roll, as i measure the graph around your whole every part of you, wrapped like cellophane on a prestigious gift my rift is a draft, encouraging you to pass with humor that’ll make you laugh carrying weight from your outstretched hand collecting all the specs of sand holding onto you with a promised note while floating to your hidden canals with my love boat consider this a cruise, one in which i heal your every bruise kissing softly the sprain, so that like a train you understand how my language is tracked with luggage already packed irrespective of the transportation this narration may become too much, but that’s the danger of surrendering to your touch while looking to name this piece in honor of your PERSONALITY FEAST i think of your beauty revealed by prayers of the holiest priest which is to say : your glory reaches to my inner poetic story sometimes too long and abstract to be said, but you’re in my spirit like fine wine awakens the dead
(THIS POEM IS DEDICATED TO THE NAME OF THE BUTTERY PECAN : MAY IT SERVE YOU AS YOU HAVE SERVED ME! 🧈🦋🌟)
seasonal depression is in session the calamity is sizzling in the booth like a rotten and spoiled tooth cold to the touch ailments swollen & such formation takes a scolding seat malnourished and empty is the street past is left open like a twisted rope barefoot in journey seeking hope while summoned to the river naked and exposed, there i stood in a shiver like the roots planted next to me engulfed by the wind and tree before i knew it, i jumped with my flesh slumped inside the cold water an underground battle became a deep slaughter pierced by the freeze shaken by blistering leaves i’ve fallen and only desire sleep though these waves thrust me deep and my dreams creep remnants remain floating at the top the lighthouse flickers as though it may stop with the shine on the line and my mind crossed yet another time for this reason i wish this season to be dismissed as i drown remiss…
This is a conversation, (May of 2022) I had with my dear friend Sannia! She shares her story about growing up in the church and how her ‘Angles and Angels’ contrast to mine. Listening back, I noticed, I did a lot ranting over the topic :p but Sannia adds a delightful perspective which puts in context our rightful place in examining where we are. May you receive something good out of this!
The first part of my interview with Keti, is available now for your listening / watching pleasure! it was so wonderful to be able to have this conversation and share some of my foundation behind my recent book ‘Wait / Weigh The Minute! TyPo oR fAiTh? Keti is an amazing philosopher and artist whose skills and talents speak for themselves! Check her channel out and subscribe for future endeavors !
in the backyard of my confusion, lied a remedy buried deep. Hidden far away, where even the soil keepers have fallen asleep. locked away as a time capsule, with a sturdy and indifferent axle. And absurd words tweeted by flightless birds.
one or two from three and nine : a stage to mine. encrusted with the rust of the earth. faced with festivals of mirth. saddled by the passages of my struggle fence. I stand in court as the devil’s advocate-seeking recompense! for my living right, avoiding the night, shadows hiding in plain sight!
far back alongside the distant seas! scented flowers and trees blow with a breeze, gathering my attention. not to mention the rhyme slime. that’s probably already a grind to your ears as an annoying past time. shooting stars , passing cars : energy misplaced _ fitness gone to waste. broken on the spine, foundation soon to be base.
but….
maybe i’ll walk with a oak shillelagh, in hope that my step will be careful and true.
maybe i’ll dance with a wooden canopy while yodeling on the who!
maybe i’ll plunge with a strong and sturdy stick to penetrate through the concrete brick.
maybe i’ll be ran over by the impatient ones in the grocery aisle, with vampire teeth as their smile.
maybe i’ll count the time it takes to be 10/10 fine.
maybe i’ll mount the stacks on a dime.
maybe i’ll have a stable case to shoot the mace.
right inside their eye, a bright fiery potion, swallowing inside their ocean.
sheeeit, maybe ill strut with an oak shillelagh, and beat my drum with my wand and ukulele.
i have overstayed my welcome! should’ve been gone but now i’m on my way as here? is not over there! but it’s somewhere, a space on the line, like a frostbite in the mind! or a shackled image caught in between time…
forward ever to the ongoing change, left inside the collected jar. from near and afar. coin may reside, in thin pockets or within a hidden corner tide. clouds are transitory mysteries, containing ancient and new found histories!
anyways…
Any as in: IN KNEE. which stands… in the way, cuz the day is full of gray! a message that can potentially relay!
ever wondered what that could be? with eyes that can’t see. & intentions paved in hell. irrespective of the noise of the bell!
i looked in the mirror and noticed the sleep around my eyes, tears encrusted as tired lullabies… so : i ran the water, to set the starter!
now the essence of my current flower, makes a wish to be empowered (and devoured) by a hungry appetite.
with magnifying insight, my desire runs a surface lap! superfluous cycles sprinting around the map, like a mouse finding the house. or a buzz against the fuzz.
for when both are in want, they can’t help but flaunt, all of their desires laid clearly on the table! touching and seeing, in fact : ALL of their sensors set the match to the fable!
& the burn to return. leaves smoke and ash. they’ve been burned and smashed! no longer here, but transported through the seasons, as if you ever needed a sensible reason?
let’s start with this one : this rhyme is not yet undone ! cuz i wish for all the fun! my crass abilities are sensibilities that ain’t scorn, they’re only roses without the thorn!
a pain nonetheless, cuz the smell is rotten! like picked cotton ! laid out and embroidered like a quilted sheet. with colors and textures providing all the heat!
i find it curious, that when folks check in on you, they continue with wonder: “how have you been? what have you been up too? long time no talk too, what’s been happening?” however, those same people can’t / wouldn’t / haven’t – taken anytime to press play to engage in your latest creation.
🤔🧐🤨
if you want the message to relay; indeed all you need to do is press play and LISTEN! (i would really appreciate your feedback / criticisms especially if you make it through the whole thing!
this project was originally released 2 years ago as a written text, featuring 10 chapters with a lot of colorful poetry and allegory. i’ve done the difficult arrangement of writing, editing, and recording it all. There’s no ‘physical’ copy of this book yet because i really want folks to listen as opposed to flipping through the pages and missing something.
Typos notwithstanding, there’s a message! May you get through! Whether through the Angel (😇) or Angle (📐)
Blessings and thank you for everyone that has taken the time! This was done at no cost to you, but if you wish to give a love token and donation :
Today : is a day of mourning. with the falling rain & ongoing pain…indeed today is one of deep lamentation. if you’re wondering why, there’s a creeping sadness around this season? may it better recognized one reason for this is : the capitalist nature of this holiday.
while the mass media and all of their related pundits aim to reframe today as one of celebration and giving of thanks. amidst the football, cake and pie stuffing, turkey and ham feasts, little to no mind is given to the nature of this day.
Instead we’re forced: Football. Advertisements. Black Friday Sales. the message has been sent. encouraging the tenet to pay rent. but there ain’t no money. only waffles without honey. big time flakey, crumbling…steadily shaky.
one may vaguely point to the native and indigenous peoples; but little depth or investigation is made to their history and what efforts have been made to undermine them and their relentless struggle in gaining their land back!
I AM CONVINCED : not enough pain has been shared amongst the masses of those in ‘ameriKKKa’ / Canada / and all occupied and colonized lands…we’re only left to focus on the remnants of what remained. THIS IS THE CANARY EFFECT.
Not a day of thanksgiving but THANKS-TAKING of LAND, RESOURCES & LABOR which were all stolen, revised, and redirected for the purposes of capitalist exploitation and hegemonic dominance.
when eye look at the the full moon tonight, I’m reminded how my life was changed this day 7 years ago at Paisley Park. i’ll never forget that conversation and feeling. it was spiritual, all aglow, and all encompassing : much how the moon has 8 phases, various stages in between.
This was a night of correction _ a reminder of where I was standing.
i’ve never seen myself as much of a ‘fan’ but appreciator and admirer of his music. it was very clear i admired and some may say even ‘ADORED’ Prince’s music. (Shoutout toThe One!) ❤
I downloaded /purchased all of his (and related) albums and remembered all the lyrics! the music just connected with me. it’s like Prince knew how to ensure all the instruments including silence, we’re always so clear to hear and feel. to this day, truly i am moved. something about that Purple Music!
it was this night where i gave a private tour of paisley park alongside with TrevorGuy to journalists from Europe (pictured above) it was also announced to me for the first time that, Prince would be doing a solo Piano and Microphone Tour all across Europe in 3 weeks!
Alongside with MonoNeon (Bass Guitar) Donna Grantis (Guitarist) , Adrian Clutchfield (Sax & ewi) , and Kirk Johnson (Drums). As for my position? I‘d be working the teleprompter! he assigned me this position because he had watched my videos and was aware of my knowledge of his music and aware that i could keep up with his sudden musical transitions.
this was all so unbelievable to accept. And while this ultimately did not occur due to Ticket Scalping, and him deciding to have the first show at Paisley Park – the mere invitation was enough to transfix my anticipation.
amidst my glory and elation : it was reminded to me by Prince himself _ “You are in this position because you carry a light, you needn’t be shocked; you are here because you belong here!” i had smack myself out the fog of disbelief – it’s like nah man, take another look of what you have and USE IT! You don’t need to be surprised, just go with a smile and do the work!
Share your light and don’t hide it – ‘LIVE OUT LOUD‘ was after all the first song that I received from him in an email. it all became clear to me and my figuring out became glorified, it was like I had seen and walked into the light. Only after being guided by a mentor and oracle. I remember smiling and holding onto this revelation because it was that exact affirmation that encouraged me to continue with my soon to be released project ‘Characters In The Wind‘ which was going to be in New Zealand of that next year in 2016.
It all came at once, much like this memory. I’ve just returned from seeing Metallica in Hollywood, Florida! I’ve been listening to Metallica for about a year now and this being my 3rd show of theirs : it was an amazing experience. Much of it reminded me of how it was like being in the Prince community however this scene is totally different! Ha! They’ve been around for over 40 years and the sound just hits you. Especially when you peep into the different changes they’ve experienced throughout their career. The show I attended was for the ‘Trues’ as it was only songs played from their first two albums on the MegaForce label : ‘Kill Em’ All & Ride The Lightning’.
It was a special experience and I got to share it with my dearest friend, comrade, and sing-out loud to bad songs homie: jamilah! it was a electrifying night with vibrational intensity. From the conviction in Lars Ulrich drum playing, to the emblazoned passion in Kirk Hammett’s guitar playing. Matched with the throbbing resolution of Rob Trujillo’s bass guitar playing, harmonized with James Hetfield’s rhythmic guitar swagger – they bring something signature and sincere.
Experiencing music is all about connecting to the thing which can’t always be explained. It causes you to re-evaluate where you stand in the great congregation of life. All Together Now! (more or on that later in the Upcoming audio book!)
Everyone on this planet has value and importance. Don’t let this backwards system of Capitalism convince you otherwise ! they are constantly feeding us lies all based in individual and backwards ideology that serves only the interests of empire. We can and should work together, how else can we build if we are stuck in our own individual vacuums struggling in silence?
to hell with that! Realize you are a social being. you are breathing air. you desire community! all of us do. even introverts who prefer the company of themselves, still understand the necessity of contact with the other. it can’t be just you. it’s not just you. it’s never just one person.
Connecting with all of the forces that join in harmony is what this struggle is about. It’s not going to be easy because correction is hard to swallow for a lot of folks. Why? Because of liberalism. For those who do not know what Liberalism is a great text on this is by Mao Tse-Tung : in Combat Liberalism he writes:
“To let things slide for the sake of peace and friendship when a person has clearly gone wrong, and refrain from principled argument because he is an old acquaintance, a fellow townsman, a schoolmate, a close friend, a loved one, an old colleague or old subordinate. Or to touch on the matter lightly instead of going into it thoroughly, so as to keep on good terms. The result is that both the organization and the individual are harmed. This is one type of liberalism.”
THIS IS WHAT WE HAVE TO FIGHT EVERY DAY! Because we are all trained and socialized to be liberal on maters. Conflict avoidant. “I don’t talk about X Y Z” All of these avoidances are a result of how the system of capitalism trains us to silence ourselves when we are confronted with truth. We have to fight against that and struggle for a better world.
ALL of that to say : looking at the Full Moon reminded me of some of these notions to also weigh the minutes that have been counted before me! It has been written and said. I’m basking in the glow, the fullness that is to know.
all i’m saying is : a lot is about to change! (👛⛅️🛣️)
WAIT (W3IGH) THE – MINTUTE! TYPO OR FAITH (FAT3)? COMING SOON!
dammit i’m mad! (read it backwards) 😂 but still excitingly glad to report much progress is being made on my upcoming audio book ‘WAIT / WEIGHT THE MINUTE ! TyPo Or fAiTh/ FATE ? as it turns out recording chapters of your own words is more challenging than one would imagine. all of lines changing and times rearranging rhymes. this project is both spiritual and mathematical thus various contradictions appear. (here and near) transitions // tradition
sinister // minister
last days // last daze!
But through the work, many correlations are nonetheless teachable moments. It’s all aligned // It’s not so Bad but then again it is not just BAD but BBBBBBBAAAAAAADDDDDDD!
YOSOGO: May you enjoy the different variations of BAD with this playlist!
WHY YOU WANNA TREAT ME SO BAD ? – Prince // In this case ‘Bad’ is just how it sounds. just down wrong. when I treat you so good, but you treat me so bad. that ain’t right yo!
2. WHY DOES IT HURT SO BAD? – Whitney Houston // Back to feeling Sad, thought I let it go, why does it hurt me so?
3. BAD REPUTATION – Donna Summer // Always think twice! Don’t throw your love away and get into public arguments and reactionary interactions. Your reputation can’t be brought or sold but higher to this point ::: Trust your Instinct and LISTEN!
4. BAD BAD NEWS – Leon Bridges // Everything about this is smooth and lifting. The power of transitory style and grace when people get in your face. Bad bad news? nah, I’m about to turn it n2 a good thing.
5. YOU’VE GOT IT BAD – Stevie Wonder // This song is a trip. included with this song is : the flight, destination, and passing duties to ensure you a safe land. The view is ‘O’ so marvelous, so good the bad becomes good. She’s so bad, it’s good!
6. BAD – Michael Jackson // I’m Bad!! you know it AND THE WHOLE WORLD HAS TO ANSWER RIGHT NOW TO TELL YOU ONCE AGAIN : I’m So bad, I’m Smooth!!!
7. AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM – Beyonce // Beyonce sampled this song from Kilo Ali’s song (America Has A Problem (Cocaine) She changes the meaning and says : well the problem is actually her cuz she’s ‘Bad’.
“20, 40, 80, out the trap, hit it with the rap Put it on the map, then we right back Call me when you wanna get high, high, high, high Tony Montana with them racks Ivy P on my bag, double G’s on the dash I’m bad, I’m bad Tell me when you wanna get high, high, high, highBoy, you can’t get higher than this No ‘Cause love don’t get no higher than this No, no”
Now one can for sure criticize this song for its hyper glamorization of why she’s ‘Bad’. Exploitation is definitely in the bag not just birkins and teflar bags. you can’t get racks and billions without taking from those that do the labor to make that possible. That’s the fundamental contradiction in this song, America Does Have A Problem and that’s capitalism and the violence that is required in order to sustain its existence. So how about we get ‘high’ on political education and organization that gives us the focus to change the material realities around us. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
In this video: I sew 14 buttons on a new pair of *BLUE DENIM LEVI JEANS* something, I never thought I’d ever wear again. 24 minutes of mostly ASMR motion. The results were satisfactory and the therapy was needed. Hence the silence, for the majority of this video. This was a very much an ASMR inspired video. No whispering but careful attention to where I was going with the needle and thread.
This is the result @ ::: 23:16 – 23:38
Blue Jeans For Work3 (2 hole buttons) on the one going down!
Much more coming: BE OUT ON A LOOKOUT FOR PART 7 HERE!
we are living in a CRUMB SOCIETY, numb to sobriety but constantly fed with intoxicated waste renewing the insatiable taste. skyscrapers in the city, with flashing lights and parking entrances lit pretty. surrounded by security brick walled fences, spyware and firewalls for instance: while surveillance is factored in, just like a factory setting comes programmed from within. production is on the line, labor exploitation becomes the pantomimed. puppets and strings, relationships or flings? like CRUMBS, falling from the bite of the cookie, mere CRUMBS. that’s what we are offered. ALSO BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT THEY WANT US TO SEARCH FOR. WHO IS “THEY’? = They are the capitalist and corporate ruling class; the same ones doing all the stealing, and the wheeling of propaganda to keep you confused and pledged to their will. it’s a diabolical and violent ill, because they give us the snack crumble, while they keep the whole pie! AS if they could provide you a valid reason why? HERE IS ONE : WE ARE GIVEN THE CRUMBS: JUST ENOUGH TO INDICATE THAT SOMETHING WAS EATEN AND LEFT OVER ON OUR FACE. OR WHICHEVER PLACE. BUT THAT SOMETHING DOESN’T MEASURE TO EXACTLY HOW MUCH WE ACTUALLY ATE. you know how crumbs are left forgotten on your chin, when talking to a stranger and no friend? when ain’t nobody tell you, those CRUMBS were left at the corner of your mouth’s turn? those CRUMBS have spoken for a desire to LEARN. they were left elsewhere, found on your shirt. just like dirt, hidden in between all of your forgotten nooks and crannies, some of y’all : even got crumbs in your panties! yikes : the cross contamination & intersected damnation, at a location not too FAR from your teeth biting into this struggle BAR. quite soon it’ll melt & stain! wouldn’t that be a shame ? but it ain’t just you, we all belong to this CRUMB SOCIETY. handkerchiefs, napkins, and tissues, come to the rescue in remedy of this issue! whether jelly, spaghetti, or sugar confetti. or like a photo seen on GETTY! Why wait to be ready? to acknowledge and do something about these CRUMBS : in the suburbs or slums, we are the sums of intentional wage theft. but with ongoing Political Education and Organization, all of their CRUMBS will exit, stage left!
writing until the pen runs N2 paradise clarity! (by uniform & random means) 