Wait (Weigh) The Minute! TyPo Or FaiTh? (Fate)

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!

TABLE CONTENTS (LIST OF CHAPTERS) : 00:29-01:24

INTRODUCTIONS: ANGLES, ANGELS, & THE DON_KEY -: 01:25-04:19

ASLEEP // ALARM: 4:20 – 8:25

(CHAPTER 1: OVER HERE? AIN’T OVER THERE!) : 8:26-18:01

(CHAPTER 2: DIFFERENT LENS, DIFFERENT PENS) : 18:03-24:20

(CHAPTER 3: WORLDS WITHIN THE WORLD) : 24:21-38:03

(CHAPTER 4: TELL HIM YES!) : 38:04-50:35

(CHAPTER 5: TRANSITION OF TRADITION): 50:37-1:09:35

(CHAPTER 6: CONGREGATIONAL SONG? ALL
TOGETHER NOW!) : 1:09:37-1:16:08

(CHAPTER 7: TITHES AND OBLIGATIONS) : 1:16:09-1:26:18

(CHAPTER 8: THE BIBLE BELT) : 1:26:20-1:33:30

(CHAPTER 9: TRIPPING ON YOUR TRIP?!) 1:33:31-1:42:58

(CHAPTER 10: ISG_DON_KEYKONG?) 1:43:44-2:06:25

(Acknowledgements & Gratitude) 2:06:26-2:07:40

(INNERVIEW: Writer // Released) 2:07:41-2:12:25

This is a true story, btw!

DO YOU S3PT3MB3R?

“Do you remember the twenty-first night of September? 
Love was changing the minds of pretenders…
While chasing the clouds away…”

Do You R3m3mb3r?

YOU CAN’T REMEMBER WHEN IT’S HAPPENING! Seeing as now it’s the 22nd night of September, I’ve had some time to reflect on the changing pretenders Earth, Wind, And Fire was speaking about…

Chasing the clouds away for clout, what could that be all about?

When one follows the digital screen, they attempt to gather and collect what and where nuance may glean.

Shooting stars, and crashing cars.

milky way galaxy.

supernova you or me?

inspected by the bug!

refusing a nocturnal hug.

matched flames?

dissolute remains!

alabaster blast.

formidable cask.

underneath the mask.

Powder and dust.

Silver and gold rust.

by appearing real.

shadows feel.

by lurking light.

reflecting slightly bright.

bells rining.

soul singing!

(if you care to listen and jam out, Click the link below!)

https://bit.ly/3S941B0

The Loneliest Bench In The City

Even if you were to listen 3 times, it still wouldn’t take you 7 minutes to listen!

i sat down on one of the loneliest benches in the city amidst the piss, perfume, and upscale degradation _ it is with no hesitation to witness : that, this is a city filled with pretty & superfluous dreams.

all of which are split at the seams because the luxury of such life : bears insufferable strife.

on every corner, folks gather and scatter to enter the markets, to meander and shop!

hoping that their cards and credit won’t flop!

the currency and change makes one deranged through the arrangements of who potentially may be able to try it.

or who is willingly able to buy it?

if the advertising scheme is to beam any light, it’ll glow constantly through the morning, evening and late @ night.

glistening programs intending to influence your thoughts and the framing around them.

the measure is neither bountiful or slim.

as it concerns who gets to feel the impact of this glitter…despite the pockets of litter found in between streets or the desperate cries for consumption via uber eats.

the packaging is more real than the supposed material gain.

the profits remain, only among those that exploit the collective masses.

to this bench, i testified of a memory belonging amongst the lowest of classes.

when having no shelter, clean apparel, or access to a prescription to refill my glasses…

i struggled to see : how social systems could justify this neglect while claiming freedom simultaneously?

abruptly: the loneliest bench in the city – spoke back to me (with these words) : “as cement is drilled into a hole, and wooden wedges are placed inside to fill the vacant sole – so shall the ruling class walk on by, sitting on top of skyscrapers – built up high, like pigeons: it is there that they spy : to maintain their hegemonic & cawing lullaby.

SeT ThE RhYmE oF LaW

I RECKON YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO THIS ONE 🎧🖤⚡️

if you listen 3 times, it still won’t take 7 minutes of your time 🥳

By golly, The Svengali of it aLl, how many rubber bands, they putting on that BaLl?

How many steps are leading to that HaLl? 

deception’s VaSe – seeking an uprooted FlOwEr in CaSe there’s pOwEr to TrAcE. 

‘rEaDiNg’ is our brain’s ‘FeEdiNg’ to the ToP, it doesn’t sToP.

If you’re WiShInG maybe you should be DiShiNg
all the candy, salad, and nuts allowed in cLoVeR,

<<<<<<<<<<just know it ain’t OvEr !<<<<<<<<<<

sometimes you gotta ‘set the rhyme of LaW’ which is merely, calling out every presumed fLaW: if you wanna TRY ME, i won’t 🐝 SIGHING OR WONDERING WHY ME?
i’ll just give you a reason to SEE! 
I ain’t about that life, cuz’ while assumption may cry the eAsE,
for the ‘WhEeZe’ of
the uncommon 1nE,
that sees it ALL as sin and ‘uNdOnE’

i AiM to FrAmE that ‘nAmE’
how about we : start at those OfFeNdEd …
their minds are often AtTeNdEd (to secular CoNcErn, preferring to BuRn) in contempt of the NoTiOn, to that which they’re AgAiNsT,
like a guarded and barbed wired FeNcE.…
they rather cut and ShOcK, than recognizing their judgment acts like a defensible bLoCk.

so here’s to setting the rhyme of law!
mustard GrEeNs$ for absurd MeAnS : in order for a cOnDiTiOn to meet the ReNdiTiOn of fruitful AmBiTiOn: we must at first be given pErMiSsOn.

(if you wanna get heated in sTyLe, here’s a read worth your wHiLe…)

ALUMINUM DRESSING TO KEEP THEM GUESSING)

micro fancy, but with expensive and expansive designation for flossy ApPaRrEl with attention to details, so sTeRiLe with loaded bullets down the BaRrEl.
it’s about as ReAl*** as the word could mAkE it, as hot as the baker could bAkE it.

unable to be put in a microwave as the waves radiate and ExPoSe.
thereby fluttering the one with the RoSe.
if peddles could speak : would they cut among the WeAk?!
Ha, sad thorns built on the oUtSiDe, as thunderstorms rolls over all the starry eYeD.
wavering inflictions swoon my addictions to higher LaNdS. 
greater and stronger cOmMaNdS. 
thus, i’m flipping through the elementary and university sTaGeS – as the pAgEs turned has been suited only for livable WaGeS!

ANOTHER WAY OF SAYING IT : SHUT THIS DOWN!

Pieces Left Behind

the pieces of me? they wish to know! but would they bother to figure it out?!

upon reasonable cynicism or dubious suspicion, my recognition_ of your stain remains!

wholly composed with a toxic ink – that is IF digested in sync. in a previous life, my spirit was kept to this bewildering strife.

daily mentions of your gleam. fire and steam pressing down your jeans. i could have made a diary out of the memories you seemed to redeem, justifying our ripped seams. my dream is never cast by a responders reach, but by a living testament resurrected to teach.

when lessons have turned into splendid confessions of the highest order /// obtained knowledge is gleaned, crossing between imposed boarders. this wisdom endows us with a movement to act!!!! (consider this a dialectical materialist fact!)

proven by the wisdom of my yearning eyes : this chosen potion is as such summarized :

“your taste kept me at pace with the grace of your X’d face.

a rhyme that is followed by a sweet stench – a supplication which has already been quenched.

as the milk on my lips belonged to : your deep refrain …

a song and dance which harmonized and sustained, tho through frustratingly knotted chains!

forgotten in my car: were loaded peanut butter pieces, undermined by the heat found in the creases…

*only remembered when i dropped my phone in between _ BuT WhAt CoUlD tHiS sYmbOlLiCaLlY MeAn?*

as the caramel candy, coated the edges of my sleeve, my outfit realization became ruined inside the exposed cleave.

perplexing chocolate subject to the law of impermanence.

Room Broom

inquire : the ability to read the room!
you mustn’t mop the floor, until you sweep before with a broom!
gather all the pieces in a collected space.
before you wet and spread dust mites and shaved lace all over the place!
yooo! check out what’s going on!
“sleeping until dawn” without an awareness of whose there, will lead you to nowhere!
take a moment, pause.
or claw like a timid cat with a cause.
a reason in which your ‘season’ overstayed.
your garrulous essay has quickly been outweighed.
by your sentence, lexicon, story, & faction.
any action is discouraged and swiftly put to rest, if you’re making a mess out of keeping one at bay
to what you steadily say, 
which is an extended remix at best…
i’m just saying …
you might need to say less!
but for you, that might be like taking a difficult test
and to this : may I encourage that you study expeditiously, & like hot cup of tea, sip slowly and carefully
for it’s truly a benefit in reading the room!
cuz’ you mustn’t mop the floor until you sweep with the broom!
gather all the pieces in a collected space!
before you wet and spread dust mites and shaved lace all over the place! 🙄🧹🐭

yooo, check out what’s going on!

IlluminatI BOOM bOmB bee

This poem is a four message poem, listen with the intent to get through. you may need to listen /read it slowly. you may need to listen to it 3 times. it’s poetry but it does make sense if your rhyme is aligned, blessings!

shining brightly, electrifying me to the frame of your name.
bursting from the seams : with explosive ultralight beams, you buzz me intoxicatingly, into your illuminations.
charcoal stained stations overflow the crevices of my every location.
passcodes bypassed.
firewalls lambast.
space and time.
place and mind.
who knows what can be, framed as Illuminati?

this is for the superstars forgotten near and afar : performing with microphones dripped in ice – costumes sparkling nice, right before the cocktail’s crow thrice.
now already invalidated, the trash bags have been consolidated.
saving up the space for more waste!
helping them to share the light in front of the sleeping face.
by lifting their weight and carrying their excess stone.
when dreams seek for a familiar place to roam.
as the bee parades the succulent nectar, so should we become the adjacent collector.
storing what is gained, from the flower and the tree & then releasing it via truth to power {dialectically}.

right as you heard the BOOM – i aligned my chakras in tune with the new moon.
hoping to be at the right place, just in time for lines to trace, me right back to the bass, that’s been plucked.
a funk note so obtuse, it commanded your body on the 2 & 4 to get loose!
there you went; wishing to be seen glistening like the sheer blue sky, clouds accenting the pallets, gloriously from on high.
like water for chocolate but instead chocolate for oat milk.
may your stream be smooth like silk.
it is both from : the emergence of the wise and the not knowing; that the ever glowing, pages will assert themselves done, just as the sun rises with no refusal of anyone.

ticking by a designated appointment time. each second steadily & frantically reducing : energy’s most reusable prime.
engaging negative and positive forces have now lit up the walls.
while, coloring the ghetto stalls.
like a historic landscape scribbled with graffiti in a gentrified neighborhood, or the house-less person whose intentions are immediately not seen as good.
We are advised by the penciled post it note, flowing from the river with political education as our boat : chewing profusely so that indigenous land back knowledge is smoothly passed down our throat.
this can appear as a pacifying tragedy of events, if the role in playwright, would pay in dollars but not in sense!
interrupted by auditory shatters while the glass falls, it matters as it scatters like an unexpected capitalist exploitive bill torn to tatters.
if you’re asking about the chatter, take another squeeze cuz’ it’s sho nuff a lil’ fatter!

when preparation met opportunity – the bee fluently : found it all to be amazing…
AH : MAZE.
a daze of circular buzzing thought.
ranging from what you ought
and what they sought,
in the search of becoming more clear:
the staging of such ‘arrivals’ means planning.

organizing.
scheduling.
ahead of time.
ha, a head of time!
one has to imagine, what this head is thinking and if it intends to be drinking?
as the springs of capture can lead to the effervescent rapture.
in the blink of an eye, all that was soon to be had became land, air, and sea.
miseries and reveries all around me, up until buzzed in the ear which answered the call to not fear.
ILLUMINATI BOOM BOMB BEE awakening me to remain clever, to stay forward : backwards never! throughout any endeavor!

= BEE BOMB BOOM ILLUMINATI – who knew that the 🐝 could 💣 causing a 💥 , allowing the space for explosive💡illumination?

WAIT A MINUTE: Vipsanna Silent Retreat // Inner Me // Enemy

If you care to listen to watch / hear about my experiences with vipsanna, you can watch that here. ❤
Enemy // Inner Me

is it the enemy or the inner me?
the voice outside which chides my pride !
yet : the thunder and tide reside within my subconscious and it is there / where i spin.
sensations breaking down as ‘sin stations’
locations wherein the wrong, is corrected by a meditative song
uncontrolled by the thoughts which leave and awake
many unresolved cookies going unbaked
but what does that mean for the batter ?
constantly flowing with chatter and fuss.
a matter of the people or an individualized us?

this is of correspondence: appealing onto the skin but also the thing which rings within – by exposing slices of infinity
we are then able to locate the vicinity of divinity.

and if my heart had hands ? they’re lifted!
but if my eyes had arms? they’ve already sifted
_ through all the jargon that liberal stems wish i’d pardon
however i’m much too stained : with every fragrance of their name.

to every disdain, i refuse to remain in the boat rolling afloat, to the stream of capitalist and imperialist psychological warfare !

whichever our affair, we must still prepare forward with an objective – sure to win! this is to no end as both, the enemy and inner me – can be observed and become silently unnerved.


to the enemy or inner me : one must be equanimous observing so that we don’t react : for the universal act is ‘The Law of Impermanence’ everything is constantly changing (by rising and passing away) & with this sentiment remaining true, may we step forward by examining our vibrations casting away the old and new, holding onto only the present ‘you’.

UR!? : BUTTONS, THREADS, & SYMBOLS (THE PHOTOSHOOT)

UNIFORMLY RaNdOmLy in S3arch of Paradise Clarity : THE PHOTOSHOOT! this gives me an opportunity to not say so much (save the captions!) now the photos will do the talking! As shot by Danny L’amour Studios! This is our 3rd photoshoot together (a charm it was) especially after 7 years since the first time we took photos which I used for my poetry album August Feels Like Wednesday in 2015.

Shoutout to Danny, for being such an incredible photographer who KNOWS what to bring out in a photo session. She made me calm and realize the objective I had, could be realized and experienced. This provided a ‘KNEW’ introduction of sorts to who I am and where I am going.

‘WAIT A MINUTE! TyPo Or FaiTh?’ has been in production for a while (released briefly in the fall of 2020 only now to be re-introduced with added context and audio book) It taking full form upon me JUMPING BACK INTO THE FIRE! (Da Souf!) With gas prices going up and with the thick boot of capitalism against our necks? We have no other choice but to organize (within a revolutionary organization) to combat these forces against the advancement of humanity.

These ‘Ism’s’ exist to continue the myth that we’re unable to do anything. However, we can radicalize our ideas about the structure of society and inform ourselves via a historical analysis. We can’t do it alone y’all!! here’s to adhering to a unified mission to fight for our lives!

Part 1: BUTTONS : buttons are blessings and they are like the passengers but instead of ‘gas’ all you need to ‘pass’ is a needle (a vehicle / medium) containing the energy to sustain. needle, thread, and a ‘knot’ is all it takes for the button to remain.

Part 2: THREADS : Kaleidoscopic. All Colors! Rainbow. Pan. Across. Energy which can’t be contained Like blood it must flow, otherwise it will pile up and clout. And we all know what that’s about! (it ain’t good) Thus: it must Flow… in this i know!

Part 3: SYMBOLS : Clear in its meaning and shape. Connecting with relatable interpretation drape. Blank space. Open. Vast. willing to outlast to engage and lambaste.

ONE UNITED SOCIALIST AFRICA!

EMBEDDED INDIGO

captions included 🙂

in bed, within the inn – i then go,
soft peddles of a perfumed floral ring
‘a rose’ in me : the call of a bee sting.
entwined in clusters of blue and carpenter’s wood
remains flames of extravagance, shouldering between transgression and what’s expected to be good
at the cocktail’s hour, happy itself – extends into the pour of a whisky sour!

within this writing – i’m inciting : levels of tiny pebbles !
stuck inside the shoe, solving this dilemma is merely paying attention to the clue!
the case of this face is myriad but fallen short of obscene …
when the sense became non – i become a breathless yawn.
quivering into the distant soft tissue, as my tears are signatures of issues.

ranging from emotional neglect and tortured trauma!
but confessions of repentance have been absolved through the teachings of the Dalai Lama! (((it should be noted : the dalai lama and 🧿 DO NOT IDEOLOGICALLY ALIGN, as They’ve worked with the 👀ℹ️🅰️, so….👎🏿 ! i only used their mention due to the rhyme provided on the spare dime in time.)))

i’m kept close by the face of an perplexing ace!
while going through this crisis of
energy – is not at all unexpected …

yet: it does appear suspected

as so much can be said…………..
instead
i’ll pause where my whispers swallow
the voice inside, is a guide to which i follow

the fiction of the white
just might: speak way too soon…..
months of turning pages to the crescent & whole moon

still
awaiting colors, glisten serene
and while the contradictions long to be seen….
dialectically & eclectically : to those that suggest otherwise,
by the sight of their reading eyes? lines indeed, align and surprise!

while : in bed, within the inn – i then know, embedded indigo!

I originally conceptualized the title “embedded indigo” after gathering all of my close friends at Benihana’s in Chanhassen Minnesota! I remember I worked at Mall of America at the time, and TrevorGuy called me around the time, I was leaving work. “Prince is having a music video dress rehearsal for Judith Hill with Eric Leeds, tonight at Paisley Park and you’re invited to bring in a couple of folks. Details forthcoming. Are you down?” “Absolutely, I’ll let my folks know!” I was absolutely ecstatic about going to Paisley Park and to add to that : A music video with two of my favorite musical artists!? I told the ‘True Blues’ (y’all know who you are!) AND we were all excited to be there!

For added context: I had only been to Minnesota 3 months at this point and things were already picking up, as only 2 days ago from this point I got 3 messages that a private party : was happening at Paisley Park and me and my friends had been invited to Paisley! If y’all want a run down of what happened you can watch that here! https://youtu.be/zSQWWAwRWgg

BACK TO BENIHANA’S! So we are all there awaiting what’s the scoop! everybody’s asking me, what’s about to happen!? Obviously I would know right? Well no. Prince never gave any information about what was about to happen, he just told you to prepare and that I did. It was at least 21 of us and none of us did not know what would happen. We were all sharing Prince stories and all guessing all what could go down. Clearly, we were all decked in our finest of clothes. I do remember having blue on at the time.

Suddenly : I get a call from TrevorGuy. 

ALL eyes are suddenly on me as my ringer is on and I knew it was the call, we’d all be waiting for. I briskly brushed off into a quiet space, leaving them all in lingering anticipation.

I get back to the phone and hear :

“hey, sorry. Prince is not going to do it tonight. some things came up. sorry, will be in contact soon. peace.”

ALL I felt inside was blue. A deep blue. So deeply on me it felt like a deep url code. not just any kind of blue but a mood indigo like Duke Ellington spoke about. It wasn’t necessarily sadness though, just like someone dipped in a ocean of reflection. How was I going to tell everybody it wasn’t happening!? I remember thinking about dreading the walk of shame back to everyone awaiting what would be the next move.

Soon as i came back to the fold, my head shaking in every direction : everyone knew and we all laughed it off. in fact the rest of the night was spent with many other folks who had been to Paisley throughout the years when this was a common occurrence!

“Oh you mean, driving out in the middle of nowhere before there was ‘modern construction’ because you were told there was a paisley park party at -35 degrees and when he leaves you outside for like 3 hours and then decides at the last minute, nah.” Hahaha

Prince. His way about things were not linear. All throughout the night, I can’t say I was really feeling blue as in sad tho. I was very much energized throughout the laughter that ensued & with good eating though we were not a part of the experience. In many ways this is how I feel about Prince and the anniversaries of his ‘transcendence.’ Which is today. There is no real sadness only memories of joy when listening to the “flames of extravagance” that is Prince. 

In many ways it all feels like a parallel vortex when this time comes around, a familiar whisper in the shadows. Whispering deeply, but a jovial memorial indigo.

seeking…(Like A Lake)

the things i wished to do, i no longer care for
the places i wanted to travel, i can’t see as reasonable any more
is it because the covid numbers are spiking up?
or the doors which refuse me by slamming shut?

i wanna cry but don’t know why
i’m blanked in space
trying to rectify my face
i’m feeling numb, sad, and displaced
feeling alone in a ‘home’ that does not belong to me
wishing to paint with lens carefully and responsibly

while, cutting off those thrills which made it easy on my heart
i rather now be torn apart
by the very thing that’s eating me inside
it’s unnamed, unable to be framed, and thrives by the constant rain
that is to say : my crying tears are attempting to unmask my fears

although: stuck in a rut of staggering associations
befuddled by contradictory operations
seeking for a friend, but instead suddenly briefed by an online stranger that this too will soon end

without a sight to see what’s really wrong
or a voice to sing in harmonic song
having the very least, while the beast inside still demands a feast!
consuming everything at the dinner table
so that the unbelievable can be told as a fable

“did you see them eating all that cake? filling their stomach like algae would a lake! they probably wouldn’t feel that way – if they were the ones who had to make, all of which would soon be left to take!”

but: it’s a lot different when you’re behind an emotional wheel seeking to safely heal
& when the transportation to feel is left to squeal

if grief had a thief, would it take like a lake? or would it restore in its proper place : salty to fresh waters which trace back to grace?

STRUCTURED LAWN

are you in need of an algorithmic foundation?
one that is far away from frustration?
if by tending to your garden, weeds sprout
from the forgotten edges, to the root stained grout…
how will you be able to frame the name for an achievable aim?

(discipline and process) is in need of a [protected] structure to stay alive – to guard against the ticks on the dog, passing by – which were deprived from on high
as seeds were picked by the birds in the sky, they dropping mites, worms and fleas
& with a sudden breeze, for a moment: activity stops with a sneeze.

thus, recognition is in need of a lay down.
a written recollection providing memory and context to what can be found.
When the sense became NON (nonsense) : this propelled the LAWN to yield green pastures at dawn, otherwise reaction or revolution – will push the glass to fall…
the answer to that call : is one that writes lines while connecting grapes to vine.

og art piece in the middle (originally conceptualized in 2015) it took 7 years to finalize!

time through rhyme *ELEMENTS OF MATERIAL : ARISE!* despite the size,
the measured bowl of calculating expense – makes you wash and rinse
as it’s all coming through: due to many silent hills (which may thrill) 
BUT UPON INSPECTION OF THIS RIDDLED CIRCUMSTANCE?
HA!~ WHY NOT BE ABOUT THAT DANCE!
with the slick bounce of the beat, get caught dancing in the grocery store and then off to the street!

for when the groove makes its way to the belly way below: a deep BLUE beyond
makes the rain obtain favors that seek to know:
where’s the drip coming from?
whether the ceiling is cracked (with mold) or the floor is a bacteria cafeteria…(a slimy situation irrespective of how old)
the hysteria acts like bliss: if you’re so willing to kiss the hiss found when you dismiss!

sentiment aside: I rather abide _ in a motion that is fast and slow_ so that I can glow!
I’ve been chased by the darkness night
trying to fight by the guiding of a righteous light
it’s right by the signature of one’s might!
that is to say: according to their will!
by not laying still…
but moving onward and forward: carrying a candle with our dessert sandals! cuz’ it’s all too hot to handle!’

When the nonsense became clear: this excited the lawn to yield green pastures to revere…
by scheduling ahead we avoid conflict to appear, writing onto calendar script, alarming the appointment as to not be overbooked or whipped!

if you ain’t looking to be flipped 🖕🏾: structure your lawn to a dial, which honors your period beyond the trial. This will make the planting and growing cycle worth your while.

Pussy Pavillion

*A POEM DEDICATED TO ALL THE KITTENS, CATS, AND MEMBERS BELONGING TO THE FELINE PERSUASION (TIGERS, LEOPARDS, SPHINX, ETC) EVER HAD A CAT CHECK YOU OUT FOR A WHILE FROM A COMFORTABLE DISTANCE, UNTIL THEY FOUND IT NECESSARY TO SIT IN FASHION AS A LOAF ONTO YOU? eXaCtLy.*

in stealthy gardens, she then parades with shy fluctuation  

compressing down my blossoming appetite, extending my editing time to starvation 

like a kitten, she comes with exciting jubilations, as yarn persuades by rotation & duration  

intending to string me along, as if i could sing in harmony with her song 

bulging expressive eyes, their playfulness surrenders me : to fawning sighs

life ain’t that fair, when kittens are resilient like a stallion to their chosen pavilion

until suddenly, the kitty….while prancing by :

thought enough of me to lay loaf, on my thigh

of course i’m not mad, more like excitedly glad that’ i’ve been honored with their beauty, command, and grace

their kitty cat pussy face, is like a bowl needed to be licked clean, and that they do 

not for me or for you, but because grooming is a necessary act of self-care

they wouldn’t dare, ignore this allure, as their purrs causes all the stirs

all the feels, all of my wills : are to the spirit of the cat! 

yeah, i said all of that! 

i heard somebody say once : “cats don’t have owners, they have staff…”

and you can go ahead and laugh, at the work i’m willing to do on their behalf 

you can consider me the x to their y on the graph 

for this feline strikes with precise skills, revitalizing my company with aww glowing thrills !

pussy pavilion,

pussy pavilion,

like a stallion made resilient to its post, cat’s are too cool at doing the most!

“I am” : u.r.i.s.o.p.c (statement piece)

*this was a poetic piece I created for IGF (Irreducible Grace Foundation) in collaboration with Ms. Jane and Dr. D : they both helped me to reach into that place within me – to convey sincerity and honesty through the power of breathing amidst the search of discovering who I am… this is the poetic piece I wrote out describing who I am. it has typically been difficult for me to name specifics of who I am but now, I am more assured in the discovery of ‘what’s in a name’ that I have no reason to be ashamed. blessings y’all! ❤ *

i am : Arican. who like most of us, were raised on colonized and stolen lands. (If not in location, in mind bands )

Shoutout to the AAPRP!

i come from : radical and religious sentiments! an environment which reinforced to me that my questions : were far too deep! that my interrogations of life’s contradictions were far too steep! The church, the Bible, and the Holy Ghost was our daily bread and butter, because if not in the name of Jesus – every other voice? could stutter!

Weigh The Minute! Typo Or Faith?

when you look at me : you see – brown skin, large buttons, and thick locks of hair – they’re not dreadlocks, that would imply they’re dreadful and they’re not. you will also see, your own confirmation biases, but ULTIMATELY what you see are scattered remnants of survival.

When I look in the mirror : I see a man attempting to advance a better world through struggle and the sharing of joy through creation and revolutionary politics. I see a window at odds with dialectical history // worlds interlocked unfolding, the deeper and reachable mystery.

Uniformy & RaNdOmLy : in Search of Paradise Clarity!

What you don’t see is : a man seeking to heal trauma that has flustered me. My ‘First & longest relationship was with someone who used the language of love but never matched practice with theory. I was 18, freshly graduated from high school : ready to move to another country to escape the command & rule.

I get stressed out : when I neglect to see what has been proven to be within me. when in stress, my will is often a mess out at every express, I soon begin to digress. All of these things and more can be the case, which is why instead i take a pause ______ and breathe, to make space.

I take care of myself by: breathing within and remembering the various tools i have for access. Just as sewing and writing pens are tools of connection : so is breathing. i like to breathe using the 4 for 4 method.

4 4 4

Take 4 seconds to INHALE (through your nose)
HOLD your inhale at the top for 4 seconds
Take 4 seconds to EXHALE (through your mouth)

*4 counts in between each breathe !*

when you take deep breath it activates the vagus nerve – sending a message to yo brain that you are calm..

we win when we breathe from within. There is no end, only the will to perpetually transcend! whether your at 0 or 10 – i recommend, you find that space and begin.

::: “i say this to you, so that you know that : ACCESS is from within, when placed in an uneasy or stressful situation, remember that you have the tools and can get to that place of healing and rest.”

i often use this tool when i am stressed about something i can’t easily each or obtain. this technique is often used in combat – to calm the fighter before and after a situation. May you find it useful in any stressful situation!

RaDiCaL: Angels & Angels

describe to me : the nature of your circumstance?

would you rather walk or dance?

shall we talk it over, or discuss the matter in silence?

or are you for a government ran by the people, or the system promoting self-reliance?

you know what they say : you can do it on your own!

you ain’t gotta look for home: neither should you ask for help, especially when in need. 

SUCK IT UP, don’t cry, just go untreated until your left to bleed!

flesh left open like a party inviting every kind of friend, family, and stranger, which inevitably attracts danger!

cuz’ all them people were gathered in one space : but if not guided by a common grace or principle, their concern is far more scattered and unorganized.

thus, for the people to arise – democratic centralism must be the measure which assures their size!

may our prayers bear knowledge to the ongoing science and emotional feeling.

this type of prayer is an invitation for higher and neutral healing.

to face the very material struggle found in all living beings.

it’s a matter of principally looking in, from within _ examining those contradictions which nonetheless appear as fiction DRESSED in various dictions.

I needn’t recite every line that comes to mind, however it is irrefutably clear – that their lies a wrestle between two opposing forces here and near.

How we confront and deal with one another requires us to call out the whereabouts of FEAR!

depending on the angel / angle, one may misplace the word intended to get to what’s true!

by each clue – may w3 all get through!

When the scenery becomes the garden greenery which enhances the vibration sensation.

what will fill the gap between the bridge that is passed, how can one gather with all they’ve amassed?

Without risking the loss of what they carried, the options are truly unvaried.

going to the ever-turning passage of spitted approval.

as judgements and skeptical glancing seek replacement and removal.

the romancing of the desired beat is to treat a furnished symphony.

for when the kangaroo wishes to land upon a higher stand, because their hump encourages their jump !

how closely do connections cross and feelings tread?

will this interaction be contained or will it spread?

likewise: fungi and real disguised lies, are perplexed in front of truth-seeking eyes.

may we be truthful to the solution, which soothes us to rely on an idealogical foundation and shape ourselves to the real malleable clay.

this is to no dismay.

for when closer to the tears.

and when the mirror reveals all of those spent years…

the pieces are stolen and hidden, returning concerns back to the vendor.

until the push of splendor revitalized the colors left on cluttered tables and midnight fables – convincing that you return to the feeling that left you kneeling….

even at the throne of mercy – you felt deserving of pain.

while being caught in the pouring rain…

you were then released from the choke holds, of spiked ambitions.

your attention would only become knotted and tangled like a geometric spider web.

by thinking you could reach the ebb without the flow, the truth of knowing the invisible structures which are principalities in high places.

when running faces meet the math belonging to shape and angle, the angel once more appears as a lesson to revere.

you did not see it coming, so you ran away.

into a place no one could say?

until you came right back open and barren – as an empty cup intended to be filled to the brim.

although tightly held with muscle and limb – the hour glass slipped from your hands with all the speckles of sand, the sound was as a thunderous command!

for when it shatters it matters because it reaches across all the hard surfaced floor

one can reach the door while answering the bell, for it swells deep in the midnight and afternoon pale.

a noise awakening one to the division of sound and stillness…

disrupting sleeplessness, which was diagnosed as a formidable illness.

the capitulation belonging to the CAPITALIZATION of interests belonging only to the select few?
recognizes a RaDiCaL REVOLUTION, which informs scientifically, the work that is left for us to do!

PARADISE CLARITY

Paradise Clarity (The Book)

PARADISE CLARITY is the conceptual statement in which poetry and symbolic ‘gestures’ comes through : to the reader by random and uniform means. It has been divided into 7 Volumes (Years) Starting from ‘Z’ (2020) To A (2013). THIS IS A 460 PAGE JOURNEY! (GOOD FOR ON COFFEE TABLE!) Most of these writings were available online via blog posts, videos, and other forms of multi-media but never given the full moment to be absorbed as a whole. Whether you choose to RaNdOmLy or uniformly flip through the pages : the search to get to transparent destination is open to whichever destination you find most useful! *PRICE INCLUDES WORLDWIDE SHIPPING. PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR SHIPPING ADDRESS OF WHERE YOU WOULD WANT THE BOOK SENT* if you have any questions or concerns : please send an email to paradiseclarity@gmail.com Blessings!

$40.00

P A R A D I S E? CLARITY ! (FORMULATED EXPLANATION)

CARE NOT TO ONLY READ BUT DIVE FURTHER FOR EXPLANATION? WATCH THIS INSTEAD :

20 minutes and 44 seconds, you ain’t gotta watch me. just play! ❤

what is ‘paradise’ if not for the s3arch for transparent understanding!

i’ve randomly been writing poems and symbolic gestures starting back to 2013 – in this collection of writings you’ll be able to s3arch through the many ramblings of my mind! i’ve spoken about everything from : SPIRITUALITY , food, and dREaMs & ThEir WaKiNG LiFe CoNtRaDiCtIoNs!

reading my own words have been a revelatory insight into the reason i began to seek higher understanding. it all began in early 2013 after leaving a relationship that had significantly transformed my ‘Process’ of what understanding looks like.

many o’ times, i thought i KNEW FOR SURE what i was going through. only to soon realize, my eyes missed the lies passed right in front of me. it took being told the same thing by close friends, family, and strangers for me to somehow think i was getting through…

UNTIL : I WAS LOOPED BACK INTO BACK INTO A THE WIRE! a GPS programmed to a circular circumference! here i was // saying – i got it, this time! i didn’t have the proper correlation or the education which comes with learning about love but also LIVING with someone whose narcissism is cloaked onto them, similarly to how a robe can cover a pulsating throb.

i didn’t see what was ahead of me because i didn’t realize : RaNdOmLy…the same begins with a name not belonging to a disposition of shame. IT TOOK 8 YEARS * & some change* for me to GET THROUGH!

i was searching for ‘X’ – the unknown but yet known ; cycles of stained decoration, left me in constant hesitation. refusing to move on, assuming i’d become the same pawn – set adjacent to the queen who would guess that ‘chess’ was better played if it ALL was made into a beautiful & toxic Mess!

PARADISE CLARITY has shown me out of the deepest enclaves – i can reach to understanding through the work without feeling the need to justify every correlation that led me to ‘Y’ = ‘X’ has occupied so much of my figuring out. throughout all the years and tears wherein i feared – ever knowing the peace of being alone. believing that ‘home’ – could be understood distant and way out overseas. now i see it all began with me…

^^^

except it’s not just ‘U’ but the ancestors who have always paved the path! one can easily do the math : they told you that it was a hard to do! that numbers and shapes couldn’t be understood by you! but that’s a damn lie – one can try. to reach a higher place ! where grace is already marinating in space!

THE S3arch is how one may get through! (uniformly or RaNdOmLy)

FINALLY releasing this has also allowed me to MOVE ON AND AWAY – from the pains and gains which left me bound to reason (& seasonal treason) against the truth that deeply remains.

herein my celebration, salvation is retained !

✨🌬🪜🔑🪟🪞🖤🪃🧩🚀⏳⌛️💡🧨🧹🧶🪡🧵

IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN PURCHASING :

✨ Currently ONLY Paperback, The Hard Copy Was a Gift to Myself ✨

Paradise Clarity

PARADISE CLARITY is the conceptual statement in which poetry and symbolic gestures comes through : to the reader by random and uniform means. It has been divided into 7 Volumes (Years) Starting from ‘Z’ (2020) To A (2013). THIS IS A 460 PAGE JOURNEY! Most of these writings were available online via blog posts, videos, and other forms of multi-media but never given the full moment to be absorbed as a whole. Whether you choose to RaNdOmLy or uniformly flip through the pages : the search to get to transparent destination is open to whichever destination you find most useful! *PRICE INCLUDES WORLDWIDE SHIPPING. PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR SHIPPING ADDRESS OF WHERE YOU WOULD WANT THE BOOK SENT* if you have any questions or concerns : please send an email to paradiseclarity@gmail.com Blessings!

$40.00

cashapp & venmo: $gesturegreen 

i would like to thank 3v3rybody who has taken the time to read and invest all of the words i’ve spoken within 7 volumes of time. so much has already been said, factors and predictions already laid…all of y’all, everywhere n everything : BL3ssings!!! ✨✨✨

LIVE UNBOXING OF PARADISE CLARITY – AVAILABLE NOW FOR PRE-ORDER! (RELEASE DATE: 7/21/21)

#paradiseclarity is available for pre-order! it drops officially July 21, 2021!

Paradise Clarity

PARADISE CLARITY is the conceptual statement in which poetry and symbolic gestures comes through : to the reader by random and uniform means. It has been divided into 7 Volumes (Years) Starting from ‘Z’ (2020) To A (2013). THIS IS A 460 PAGE JOURNEY! Most of these writings were available online via blog posts, videos, and other forms of multi-media but never given the full moment to be absorbed as a whole. Whether you choose to RaNdOmLy or uniformly flip through the pages : the search to get to transparent destination is open to whichever destination you find most useful! *PRICE INCLUDES WORLDWIDE SHIPPING. PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR SHIPPING ADDRESS OF WHERE YOU WOULD WANT THE BOOK SENT* if you have any questions or concerns : please send an email to paradiseclarity@gmail.com Blessings!

$40.00

cashapp & venmo: $gesturegreen

❤ ❤ ❤ THIS IS A 460 PAGE JOURNEY : ALL ARE WELCOMED WHETHER UNIFORMED OR RANDOM!

✨✨✨ thank you everyone for your support throughout the years! I will also be embarking on a #Z2A virtual tour reviving back to life the reason why I wrote these poems and pieces! I look forward to connecting deeper with you ALL! Stay Tuned! I love y’all !

Storage Ghost

my eyes roll like dice, scattering probabilities spiced!
the cost of a gamble?
is scratching my head as i ramble !

whatever to the never,
‘cuz it’s not like IT intended on ever really coming through ( at least, FOR YOU)

their languished, weary confusion, was then
re-billed to my mirrored delusion!
i can either pay it, or let it go, overdraft?
after which, the picture and frame would both laugh !

‘cuz what a scene that would be, ha –
to portray : my dismay, on the table of their concern?
i much rather burn!!!
until i’m left crusted from the flickering flame...041421 SG

fire, plants, art decor
peeling away at this smoke and ash –
forgiveness is requesting to come to pass,
but i’m too stubborn to ever remember,
that my preference for Spring is not tantamount to your December!

so i choose to remove myself like a fly, chilling against the wall.

but if you were close to my ear, i wouldn’t dismiss your call.
neither, would i smash at the annoyance of your disposition.
irrespective of how preciously, you may regard that ‘position’.

i shutter to believe : we could shoulder next to the grudge
‘cuz it wouldn’t be long until we succumb to the nudge
but,
by storing my memories to your ghost? i’ve relinquished our odds to the abyss and uttermost!

MUSIC LOTION

i acknowledged early, the notion – that music is lotion :

i spent my days silently arid in the desert sun, frustrated that i was found a stranger to all of the fun.

while quiet- i yet, remained open to the crevices wherein contained : drums, keys, and strings.

some cared to call me out and stroke me by the hips, which loosen my lips…

for much can be said about musical expressions and I dream in that sense, it’s quite INTENSE..

this rhythmic pervasion is so instinctive that it calls to those longing to hear.

kept close nearby – ostensibly : this lotion is TOP TIER!

040721 ML
“i saturated early to the notion, that music is lotion..”

stabilizing the landscape of our pores, ensuring the calloused and ash may meet their benediction with harmonic doors !

i think we all can hear the ascending and descending notes, as they caress (with finesse) on our outer skin.

we’re no longer deaf to the sound ; our hands motioning in every direction – we are covered and bound.

music is the danced promise to obtain.

especially, when dissolved on our skin, muscle, & vein.

anyways: THE GREAT BIG ESCAPE

looking to find all of the buttons scattered within my mind…

(some reside in the odd corner of 3 n’ 9)

the rest are vacant by 2 n’ 6 with open even tricks

033121 ATGBE
annnnyyyywayyyssss

anyways….

as many suspicions rely on a freaky obscenity 

shoulders are then encouraged to shuffle with amenity

shrugging against the monster which urged them to undress

a fear which quickly transformed their compress

anyways…

now the steam is reasonably provoked & mean

cuz the command was found boiling hot

strings then, wired and tied into a frustratingly difficult knot!

ANYWAYS, this is : THE GREAT BIG ESCAPE! also known as tHe gRaPe & DiP sHaPe, but more clearly understood to be as when one’s gate is rigged against, its fate!

A dREam DeFeRrEd

while sleepwalking the dream deferred
I was then sewn up, folded down, as my voice went unheard
my spirit yet sought to eat the written word
as my midnight repentance’s slurred…

to underline the meaning of the said pitch
jars of stones, drawers of spells, are requesting a stitch
placement – where could the key abide?
if not in a enclosed location – where memories are kept far and wide!

meanwhile the coattail
of their foundation proved genuinely steady
but the camisole was see through,
collapsing my bashfulness, surrendering me ready…

as wavy fiction produces depictions of various inflictions
many of which attempt to make clear sense 
or else the pot is in need of a rinse
for the container can only contain so much, before spilling over
it’s been said : reality is a four dimensional clover.

so
i’ve come to the same
conclusion. 
a route destined to a recurring confusion.
like a cul-de-sac – the ‘whereabouts’ ain’t amounting to jack!

032821 ADD

i’ve test drove many herbs & clusters:
for it provided a pleasure i dreamed to be the case. 
flowers rooted in the soil but soon destined to be inside of a vase. 

the memory of life wishes to revive. 
but in between my closing eyes, this departure must contrive. 
to a place I’ve known? i’m kept grown!

when the aura comes around once more – what then, is left to be obtained? besides allergies from the flowers which have left me pained!
maybe some visualizations are better seen within the dream? 
it need not be for real, otherwise my hesitations will scream!

upon the alarm, my trepidation returns deferred
sleeping and waking life diffusing my fears into me like a songbird

but i missed the motion sought to keep me dancing
instead my spelling was silenced to restless nights romancing
sliced by the cut : as to excite the allure of the jiggly phat, what?

“ease on out of that pie!”
or else you‘ll DYE : teeth darker than mud – ruining those pearly whites for a musty crud!
wouldn’t that be a shame?
ha, i can explain! :::

as forces are sent to convict the mind of the infidel because they dared to call out the BULL, which would have otherwise continued stubbornly stool.
buried underneath, allowing advantages to be traced! some have already gone to waste, others? are lurking by at an inquisitive pace!

thus, this dREaM DeFeRrEd requires a writing down of every emotion stirred
to embrace : the flower & vase

before it goes away into withering decay. knowing that this transfer must occur, despite the lines which will inevitably blur!
….

as you were, The Game is Over for my Coeur…   blessings and light to Yael Naim & David Donatien for all of their timeless offerings. this one goes all the way ❤

a vow of sigh-inced’ waves

current waves are alike to the days, which came before
counting backward and ahead – left to bore :

years,
months,
weeks, 
days ,
minutes,
hours,
seconds,

all moving towards  ‘seven
but
missing the goal post of ‘ heaven ‘030721 AVOSIW

Ummm, Eh, …

what must one do, when realizing they have not gotten through? when the CLUELESS BLUE** wanders between they and you. how can one glue the pieces torn a part , if they can no longer chart : on a scale in which magenta and cyan could vow to SIGH AND

repeat a promise of : SILENCED WAVES….
RUPTURED through the crushing DAYS
STILL capable to amaze if not trapped by a cyclical HAZE

Vowing to a silent PHASE
as current waves are like the days that came before
counting ahead and backward – left to bore

seconds,
hours,
minutes,
days,
weeks,
months,
years,

all missing towardsseven
but
moving the goal post to ‘heaven’ 

a vow of sCiEnCe
wherein data stands in
AlLiaNcE
with the truth of what can be made more
CLEAR
so that the ‘
sigh‘ may revere *as opposed to FEAR*
YA HeAr?

HISTORICAL FACT*

it is a historical fact! that the story has been played like an act !
there’s indeed a synopsis and sequel  …
but the characters and setting are not equal !

troubled is the fragrance that left me stained
reminded, tossed, inactive remains? spiked n’ chained !
i wish to train the cross left for me to bear
the markers are legislated : docile and unfair

it is a historical fact! that the lines are studied, written, & tracked!
there’s indeed a subject and plot …
but the producer failed at hiring the director’s slot !

whose forrest is being destroyed and whose lawn is in need of finely cut grass?
besides the mercenaries who only seek to exploit the working class?
BUT we’re kicking the glass so that it may fall
for this sound is a recall
that the shattering deposition of restricting forces may withstand even within an arid and calloused land/hand

it is a historical fact! that the story has been cracked!
there’s indeed hammers, screws, and drills ….
but the complex is yet incomplete, exempt from all the thrills!

we’re pumped y’all! ! 
cuz we’ve already been captured by a blood sucking thief
thus, certainly there’s no peace of mind or bodily relief
when in war – one can not simply refuse the score
only until the pedals and bullets are scattered on the floor
will the meaning of such sacrifice bum-rush the door

it is a historical fact! that the story has been stacked!
one coming in after the other, now the room is packed!
there’s indeed a selling point and central theme
one in which may create a distraction or a humorous meme ….

ScRiBbLe dRriBbLe…

turn on the lights!
escaping my window frame is a horizontal gaze,
extending itself onto a perpendicular praise.
the numbers outweigh
the substance and sway.
tho ‘the dough’ is rolling on by cylinder finesse.
by wood crafting, but the ghost of sawdust is no mans fool.
this tool,
is blunt with dull edges, yet it does chop.
from bharal to
bunny hop –
distance merely invites a motion or silent still
both of which can move a mountainous hill
further above, beyond and predictably ahead….
inquiring neighbors lounge, the graveyard of the dead.
though, the sprinkler system alarms the yawn to spawn a reactive measure,
set adjacent to the milk, honey, & pleasure
it is by outdated refrain,
i have foreseen the capable and much needed dream.
by neon surprise, this sleep has counted my weary and western eyes – however, the food has expired where there are now fruit flies.
sweet and stingy cuz i’ve survived the reaction which reckons with pickup and sorted decay. awakening my languid latitudes by drifting with the longitudes which have left me fed as prey.
yes, my hostage is hostile and unkept
by stratified emotions in which Jesus Wept.

020821 SD

aLl Of My ScRiBbLeS???

dRriBbLe !!!!
through the language of many sounds.
echoes and whispers which arouse my ears with devotional candles and incense.
assuring a moving dissipation to condense.
i’m drawn with a holy supplication – errors now joined with practiced theory.
So what if : the marks of progress are torn by eternal struggle and engulfed dreary?
the ancestors have empowered me to soften my hands to their stone – the vow is kept and made home,
despite imperialist forces set to cast us alone.
the work continues to service my spirit ready for war. hands and feet, thickly covered with blood and tar. safeguarded by tactical drones and made stable by a dichotomized satellite
we shall soon gain our second sight !
bringing the masses closer to liberty and peace
the awakening bells provide a feast
wherein all fears and inhibitions can surcease !

PERSONALLY, O B V I O U S L Y

have you ever heard the story of the PERSONALLY’s? OBVIOUSLY, they belonged to a PERSON who did not POSSESS their belongings UnLeSs – stored inside of their purse!

some regarded the chapters WoRThLeSs as their VeRSeS were viewed as stringent cUrSes…nonetheless it did not fancy the PERSONALLY’s much at all. for OBVIOUSLY they were rarely, if ever oFfEnDeD – for their lives were only aTtEnDED – by what laid inside of their PuRsE. miscellaneous objects which would often quench the ThRiSt – of anyone suddenly in ‘NeEd‘ one could OBVIOUSLY always find a prediction worthy of sTeEd, with the PERSONALLY’s.

for PERSONALLY it would seem OBVIOUS – that the oblivion which guided their FaCeS – were blessings extended by insightful GrAcEs – a searching hand inside of their pUrSe! could they be looking for a nUrSe? or a rhyme with signature FlAvOr? one that others could not contest but sAvOr! notwithstanding, the PERSONALLY’s OBVIOUSLY made their purses cLuTcH – preferring to go dUtCh instead of paying one BilL. (*this indeed gave them time to KiLl)112820 PO

Pursesonally? Obviously!
it was not that the PERSONALLY’s were so OBVIOUSLY ChEaP! but they could not afford to lEaP – too far of a distance worthy that could KeEp – their essentials next to them at all TiMeS! if their arms could not reach inside of their purse // they felt they’d be certainly committing cRiMeS! the PERSONALLY’s held many animations to DiSpLaYOBVIOUSLY the privacy of such collection did not always rElaY.

folks still trying to figure out what exactly was contained in the PERSONALLY’s PURSE? well, OBVIOUSLY: that’s PERSONAL.

p.s

this is also dedicated to Moon Child, she and eye are often ALWAYS PERSONALLY or OBVIOUSLY something : D

R I G G E D CIRCLE

the dice? LOADED! the formula? CODED!

the GPS has been glitched – unable to be stitched cuz there’s no Urkel to solve the circle!

I guess you can say that STEVE wanted to LEAVE…

Jester.Model

UrKeL WhO?!?!?!?

but could KNOT because the circle was programmed, all along – to be wrong.

the DonKEY spoke through numbers – now the Kong must prolong – the intended congregational song :

the cIrCle HAS BEEN rigged!

TRIGGED BY THE FINGER THAT FLICKED OFF THE NOTION TO HOLDING THE GUN!

now we all can’t help but repeat and run – around the circumference locked in a LOOP.

our basket balls must attempt to SHOOT – but it is necessary for them to lAnD!

otherwise – an alien and encrypted HaND may select the defense, bypassing the aim to fRaMe!

102820 RC

360 is the nAmE : of the rootless caricature, known as repetitive and outdated ReTuRnS!

Sickening all of the avenues, streets, and boulevards as our wheels run a fever featuring 4th degree bUrNs!

by – hook and crook the sir as it were – came but as to come – for again programmed, hEnCe – the circumference was no less DeNsE.

one can wash and lather but must also RiNsE 
like a LOAD inside of the washing machine 

it went over & over

& on and on

& again & again
as
when, wind wishes to suspend, but can only flow and ascend

it’s been told now and way back then : the system is all a RIG! 

didn’t the shovel hear the message from the shoulder which jolted and screamed : DIG!

but like a zag – it must also ZIG!

so what is the recurring case of this circular FIG?

with no redeemable function and incongruously sunken loose ShApEs…

the vines that remain : produce neither streamline or fine wine, but those of spoiled gRaPeS???

QUEEN H Y P O T H E T I C A L

these two poems are collaborative efforts : the first portion was created by the one and only Sylina Black! she’s a favorite writer of mine *not to mention – PERSON and best friend!* she managed to come up with this in very little time. she stirred the motions in the little information I gave her outside of the title. It flowed and struck a match to the very fire I needed to bring out the rest. may you find something of merit and thought from it. 

 

In a lone world
Where the whole world
Is not the sole world,
Queen Hypothetical reigns supreme.
A land where fantasy meets reality,
Queen Hypothetical is allowed to dream.
And in those dreams, creation fills a void otherwise unmet,
What if’s and possibilities run free, unrestricted, solely for the Queen, and yet,
In this lone world there lived a young duke ,
Who would not allow possibility to go unexplored.
He would not allow anyone to suffocate his dreams, no Queen nor King, Lady or Lord.
Day and night he’d dream, sharing his adventures with no one,
Fully aware of what the Queen had done.
Traipsing through the land that the Queen had called her own.
He found that in this land, the what if’s had only grown.
In love with the power of creation,
The ability to imagine if things happened only the way she’d seen,
Queen hypothetical outlawed exploration of the dream –
Barring her subjects from visiting.

– Sylina Denise

092820 QH
lashes as long as the century, some of them fell into the penitentiary!

for what is the worth of a memory, which longs to be retrieved?

the profoundness of that experience, is what causes lamentation to the bereaved !

her eye lashes were as long as the century!

*jailing her hair cells into a penitentiary!*

that’s a hunnit (not a hundred – a hunnit!) years – of lashes and flashes!

for, many of her hair strains , would often and randomly fall into her eye.

thereby, prompting her brain to spy.

for she needed to remove the burning itch inside.

she knew she had to enlarge her pupils far and wide!

she by blinking – always made sure her subjects never stopped thinking!

day by day – swaying throughout the Winter and May.

for every season, she remained with a reason.

Queen Hypothetical or King Heretical?

The measures of possibility drawn – excites the spawn to yawn.

when it comes to kings, queens, and everything in between – the state of royalty can begin to be seen:

indifference is now made ‘qualified’ by the subjugation of the rulers of this nation.

rulers which set measurements of potential realized fiction!

though the lines appear straight, the path of least resistance is not too shy from affliction.

a hypothetical equation? may fancy a decadent persuasion!

can one still crumble as the words falter and begin to mumble?

endless are the seas that begin with the question!

for the search is indeed dressed as ‘HYPE’ and the aesthetics of every queen, king, and everything in between is worn through every impression.

queen hypothetical makes expression, the lesson of any and every imagined possibility.

this may serve to remove us from the gaze of docility.

juice n’ serenade

my, my, my & mercy me : the wind has blown through the branches of her sugar maple tree!

her fruit asking for a squeeze honoring my appetite with many more sonnets to please.

that’s my honey & ohh how she drips leaving sticky notes fastened to her perfumed flavored hips.

she got the juice! n’ i? the serenade! the kind of cut that spreads marmalade, on a switch blade.

a cut not too kind but one that resembles a portrait in your mind.

a picture contesting to be wrapped by fruits glow one that does not concentrate for too long or pretend to know.

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instead, the wish of this blossom cherry berry, is to be held by an airy and charmed fairy.

one that is dime sized and incredibly scary.

frightful for even as angels guard & protect they have a head, displaying many frightful faces.

after traveling too many narrow and wide unknown spaces.

these angels demand: that we not rise in fearalthough the writing is on the wall, the pen did not call.

no, instead it flowed through the ink of my tears.

swelling deeply into the vessels of my fears.

these tear drops commanded that we come near:

to hear a word that can be seen and made more clear.

ENDEARED, we are beloved by the moving motions REVERED.

now :

i can’t help but sing and groove, for her juice has moved all my senses – her taste renewing my lenses.

to her, i must – serenade.

all of my typos? now outweighed!

by her honey shade & succulent blade !

O D D L Y SPECIFIC

1. there’s what is obvious and then there’s what’s true – both of which rely, on a perceived notion: according, to many and thereby just an ocean!

2. + it’s very pacific – beaucoup water be overfilling the glass, kicking all the beaches and lakes ass! i’m talking about one that has a name but nothing short of terrific! could i make it even more oddly specific?!

3. once eye saw a pink rhinoceros reading a thesaurus! i asked : why not read the dictionary instead? “cuz decaying definitions are less savory than cinnamon synonyms + reading for too long is a double dread for my nose-horned head!

4. if you ant’ red? you dead! ya heard what i said?” if not, life will seem desperately more horrific revelation and elevation, evolving more and more into something that’s oddly specific!

5. ant’ you socialist?’ i’m balling up my fist if you ant’ get my gist!

ant’ you working to bring that plate to everybody’s table?! *you are most certainly able!* hoarding and controlling the goods for a select few – ant’ ever make any one’s due! get a clue!

 

6. IF YOU AN’T READINGYOU’RE SPEEDING but without a fluorescent END. may your eyes absorb this message and TRANSCEND.

7. This is not a message intending to be weighty or prolific – i aim only to move you closer to something more or less oddly specific!

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rhinos and ants read the thesaurus for better understanding…

8. specifically odd but also allowing the heart to nod – to something a bit irregular and somnific.

9. could this sleep allow us to dream? *if by only writing it down we may learn from the rip in the SEAM!*

10. a split honoring our freshly exposed skin – this follows through to a remedy, which could make one perplexed, disturbed, or cause an odd grin.

WHEN MARBLE FELL FREE AND WHEN 3 FEELS GOOD TO ME

“excuse me…but i gotta retrieve what’s FALLEN. tho, i never assumed the marble was signed up to be ALL IN! *at least not in those POCKETS! after all – what’s adding fuel to accelerate or suspend those ROCKETS?* the most shocking, is how hard it SLAMMED on to the concrete FLOOR – it stopped rolling, only after hitting the DOOR. it is of no wonder, the mirrored marble continually marveled; all of those who held true – the SPHERICAL WONDER which confessed : “the only way out is THROUGH! through the rage of wonder.
through the calming thunder.
through it all.
through the answer and call.

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whoaaaa!!!! is that ^^^ a lot? YES IT IS! one filled with luxury and used vehicles. the price tag depends on the mileage. if i buy a lemon – i may make lemonade, though at the expense of a soon to be regretful serenade. the stench and acidity would be the catalyst – in the courtroom of the lavish and cupidity. the colors present themselves as RED, WHITE, and GRAY. could it be to perceptions DISMAY – that all the other colors have faded ASTRAY? what is it about 3 & why does it feel good to me? some have claimed: this number is a lucky charm! others have stated, this being the reason it’s on my right shoulder, and left arm!

3 is resounding it has brought me here. where I am sharing a poem that came about by not so random circumstance. I used the word ‘Spherical’ earlier which reminded me of a cassette tape I created 7 years ago called ‘Spherical Wonder’.

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recorded mid march 2013

– it just so happens that I was able to retrieve the original poem never shared before until now for your reading pleasure. may it encourage you to know you very well being in the many but one planet of ours. we need not settle for less – the stars know us and when we look into them we witness springs…

Sometimes I Wonder where the fountain comes from? Its springs are mountains of passion which fully entertain the dimensions of great magnitude! What has become of the nature of the stars? as they shine very brightly in the night. I know that their smile is bright; because they have seen your composition. Even from afar, these stars have focused their light in the direction of your silhouette. This burning grows and intensifies as you dance around the platform of your most daunting ambitions. My smile is aroused by your indulgence of your most immediate desire. Spherical orbits are here reflecting our massive platform of where we stand. we are placed in the niche of circular fantasy. Our globe is now massive around the flow of our fingers.

THE PARABLE OF JARGON M’BELLISH

when you’re lonely – you’ll search every languid hall for an expired season – bumping into the very reason, which provide no alibi…only treason! as i walked astray, i’ve beaten up the innocent and have accused the elderly fray.

this is a transition, which leaves me on a mission to find the utility. i contemplate whether i should continually swallow, this pill of lonesome arrival?

the system has not yet processed, the last byte of sand that’s been witched! my digital frame belongs to a name, not remembered or savored by fame. although, some scream loudly and capture with fallacious print and distorted light. my feet returns to the outdated announced fight.

here it goes again! wher3? over there – just a little closer to the edge, where i’m already hung up over the ledge. the overwhelming plea of this frequent Kabuki theatre, sends worms onto Shakespeare’s SKIN. the mere speech from these actors, makes the mind THIN!

it’s TEW MUCH! a stew rush! the bowl is full and the servings are plentiful but if i eat any more slowly, it’ll grow cold. a flavor equating to mold, cuz the code is just THAT grotesque. your tongue guaranteeing the taste of the silver screen burlesque!

when you’re lonely – you’ll sit in the rocking chair covered in a heated sweat, crying.wetting the face, which begins to trace, all of those smiles hung up and broken, into a stubborn place.

angles and angels pas(t) around you with present pretense (the future while *dense*) still bribe the clock to rock according, to a tune that is funky, or one to mock!

when the dreary seas brush you into the mush, which cause you to daydream – flush the stream and entertain the obscene! (LIKE JARGON M’BELLISH) then you will be awakened! to the siren inside your head, the remembrance is enough to awaken the dead.

as spirits of old, wander in search of a body to poke – if your bees start leaving, it’ll soon begin to feel like a joke. hocus pocus! did you look twice or not focus? herein is a story : which wears the dress of the clown, with colors magnified featuring whistles, pizzazz, and bells on your gown!

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On one breezy sunday afternoon, Jargon M’Bellish had a thirst for spirit. before Jargon left their home – they made sure they had the following items on:

  • hot pink n blue boho tunic (with green apple squares on each sleeve.)

  • bright orange gloves with marshmallows stickers threaded onto them.

  • royal purple shade trousers with patches of magazine cut outs, featuring various celebrities.

  • sunglasses with beige fuzziness on the handles!

when, they finally walked out onto the busy downtown street // they presumed critical eyes glancing. they were right! cuz their clothes were so peculiar. *could, Jargon M’Bellish be a distraction to passing pedestrians watching? *one couldn’t readily tell! the presumption thrilled their function. suddenly as if possessed, Jargon M’Bellish jumped 22 times, before spinning in circles, only then proceeding, to kick their right knee in the air and moon walk backwards to their destiny which was only a few blocks away.

*** not long after Jargon M’Bellish was handed their spirits and charms – they suddenly realized they didn’t bring a backpack to hold their spirit. would anyone think of them to be a drunk, while holding the brown paper bag? could that be the explanation for their boisterous behavior previously? would Jargon M’Bellish attempt; such randomized delirium before returning home again? i suppose it depends on the impending desire to be SEEN! ***

cuz when you’re lonely – you’ll scream at every voice thus silencing a life saving choice. again i say, REJOICE! for even, when words are emptied and bleak cities are filled with waste – our feet are scorned to pick up and make haste! : with the time that’s still in the room, although it lives on the ceiling – loneliness steadily pleads for healing.

when we are torn a part but simultaneously structured, our dispositions shake and we remain flustered! our feet must slow down to the yellow mustard! we’ve already stopped at the RED LIGHT, while speeding through GREEN – our vehicles ran out of STEAM.

as one shuffles through the sheets and profiles of the stranger. the destination in front of you, can’t hide from a very imminent danger.

the unusual mystery of the antediluvian tree – yields blurred mirrors screaming :

“DO YOU KNOW me?!”
WHY DO YOU FLEE?
Do YOU kNOW Thee?!”

with much more added text, crippling my speech to rhyme & flex. a formula is needed to graph where this goes next…

The Parable of Jargon M’Bellish is about what it feels like to be lonely.

JARGON = language that is characterized by uncommon or pretentious vocabulary and consulates syntax and often vague in meaning

M’= MYTHOMANE (🦷) – a person with a strong or irresistible propensity for fantasizing or exaggerating

BELLISH = to enhance / beautify (a statement or narrative) with fictitious additions, to ‘ish’ it up!

ELBOW G R E A S E

you gotta work through to abstain the stain!
don’t, elbow refrain! don’t, elbow refrain!

when the smudge fudge is far too tough to LIBERATE – jolt yo’ joints to make the path STRAIGHT!

release yourself from the grit that has spit itself in your FACE – work with the strength guided by the essence of GRACE!

you gotta work through to abstain the stain!
don’t, elbow refrain! don’t, elbow refrain!

you may have to get on your KNEES – cuz spraying disinfectant when too close will make you SNEEZE!

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it’s funky when you kick it joint to joint!

SCRUB it UNTIL it FADES AWAY!
SAW it UNTIL it CLAWS ASTRAY!

RUB it THROUGH UNTIL – it CAN NO LONGER SIT STILL!

FIRE it OUT BEFORE – it BEGINS TO FEEL AS A CHORE !

you gotta work through to abstain the stain!
don’t, elbow refrain! don’t, elbow refrain!

lEfT to write ! right to READ! brush to break a part the fat & GREED! UP & DOWN, side to sLiDe – foam through the mix and gLiDe!

take a lease on the GrEaSe – and work to ReLeAsE with no will to ever CeAsE – sauce your elbows and keep the pEaCe !

YOU GOTTA PUT ON SOME ELBOW GREASE!

TONGUE NIGHT

all morning, all day, and all of afternOoN – tons of tongues that night, spoke way too sOoN!

though, we’re a little BeHiNd – our lumpy shadows have tWiNeD!

now the lightning has written in cursive, a shape that’s murky & UnLiNeD!

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“all morning, all day, and all of afternOoN – tons of tongues that night, spoke way too sOoN! though, we’re a little BeHiNd – our lumpy shadows have tWiNeD!”

today : tomorrow, & tongue-night ‘twas trapped ’ to tasting troubling trauma that’s terrified towards trickery ToMbStOnE!

yesterday night, our eyes witnessed which flavors returned to the tongue, some foreign: others? uNkNoWn!

we could only wish to be saved by the already said SpEeCh – our rocky mountain climb could only attempt to rEaCH!

the census have reported which civilians have been robbed of all tenacity and InSiGhT! by reckoning always, the control and misery buried in the fiction of the wHiTe!

forced fed like animals inside of a platinum ZOO – these crumbs were paid for by the authoritarian ran hULlAbAlOo!

it had to be this tongue kNiGhT! the mid-evening militancy empowering swords to FiGhT!

for it was suited & armored with humility, chivalry, and decadent adjacent ClAsS!

‘tis this tongue night which swirls against those vulnerabilities, shattering myriad mirrored gLaSs!

tongue night is the evening in which there’s a twist and ScRaPpLe!

when our sentences are bewitched in a tangled n’ luscious gRaPpLe!

while being whipped into the lash of the word and InTeRpLaY – this tongue tonight undresses the nerve to quietly sTaY!