Black Maybe

Settled on Texas heat

Smothered with white lies

Like a baby returned

Eyes wide open, bleeding

Punctured by adopted religion

Then the tears flow

Blood and stomach twisting

Hunger to seek more

Water the only quench

Pulsating rotation

My heart beating to the silence

Traveled far away

Only to be reminded of my skin

Reality the better teacher

Experience my only shield

To learn was to fall

Dirt driving

Night collisions

False relief

Sun bathed

Sin drunk

How many moons roamed?

Vultures circling

Waiting for the end

An end, my beginning

Peace of Mind

Searching, roaming

Questions, only God can answer

Happiness, more burden

Arrival into fear

Walls, all four squares

I sit holding my knees

Inhaling in the green trees

Exhaling from the root: doubt

Tears then sleep

Searching, roaming

Off the grid

I am moving, stumbling

The heaviness takes all

Blood streaming with grief

Questions, God may never answer

Laughter caught short

Destination into paranoia

Walking, back into my Eden

Breathe, convoluted quarrels

Out goes any semblance of sanity

Flowing, eyes clouded

I, scrutiny

When I start with I

I know separation

The urge to point

To preach rather than teach

Fingers forward

Yet

I, myself lacking reflection

My soul outside

Holding onto survival

Cornered beast

The balance remains without I

Resurfaces when my thirst sits with content

When I start with I

I know the removal of self

The need to decipher

To hold others to the cross

My eyes judging

Yet

I,myself lacking redemption

My soul exposed

Holding onto knowledge for dear life

Trapped butterfly

The center clearer when I sit with both

Revival when I accept the rivers of time

Simple World: Magic

The world has shifted and so has magic. The magic we once knew is still the same but expressed through a different lens. The old and the new magic both exist but the language may have adapted to accommodate our new reality. Simple, the stars have fallen down into our hands. We no longer look into the stars, we look down into our phones. Like a bowl of water, we watch, predict, fail, lie, smile, laugh, join, expose all of which we have into this bowl of stars.

Magic has always worked with the sky, either through oral telling, invoking, incantation, photosynthesis. Magic always is, regardless which ever medium exist. Its all about perspective. The old magic appears far and far more like a fairy tale to the new audience: we the people. Our new magic system is not so fantasy like, it is our reality, we call on the system day to day. When we wake up, we engage into the blue light, register our faces, and then past present and future time is revealed in an instant. We are accessors or capturers of time. When you exist in your own medium, magic should always feel less fantasy, more in the line of rare or hard to find but it exist. Take any piece of technology we have now back to anyone from the 300 years ago, and you may just find yourself tied to a stake.

Tomorrow’s Dust (cover)

New kicks, new gear

In today, waiting for tomorrow

The more I try

the less

I cut across

to her

My voice less audible

Resistance the answer

Hence, I say

Forget the now

I don’t want the present

Everything I crave

Resides in the bosom of tomorrow

Every kiss

Every wish

Every bliss

is somewhere only I can see

Fall3n

Sometimes, wings appear

Barring teeth cutting gum

the blind closes

Night visions, illuminated eyes

A horn next

Crossing the line

Many times I feel

like hell and heaven

kicked me out and

closed both doors

.

Divine feeling

words on lips

when we kiss

The devil I mean

Her eyes locked on mine

Sky pact, when we bleed

Gives us the space to tangle

Stronger connection

Knock me off!

knock me down

I’ll hold on

While we rise

Same high same sight

when our Eyes do meet

..

A closed channel

No one dials in

Except me

And I like it that way

I stay and revel

In the ease of evil

drops of rain when I laugh

dark moments, I swim

gray clouds, I submerge

The energy, I savor

every drip, please on tongue

Your Turn

At the edge of the flowing water

Another change of constellation

Stars and gods

Hands and prayers

I and you

Move into a different axis

Doing our best to fulfill orders

Given by the pre-existing adages

A journey full of everything under the skies

I feel you now

In this moment

All things considered

—-

Baby,

it’s our turn

To imprint into the sun and moon

Until,

we both move away

Our light, diminished

Your turn“ – we were told.

Africa and the Curse of Religion

Listen to the sound

Coming from the back

All the way at the end

Singular, repeated

Growing, hovering

Pulsating through the shadows

Seeping back into my mind

Shapes and hexes

Demons and ghouls

Angels and jinns

All scrummaging this plain

Cut wings,

fallen through the cracks

down onto this vivid reality

where

one can never escape

……

I seek the truth

Although

Every corner I turn

I fall victim

Drowned by the shrieking

Bullets stuck on black skin

Time refusing to move

Stretched out years

Compressed into parallels and seconds

Smiles from the shadow men

Shinning boots on red soil

stop me from going into the forest

Closed my eyes and

I find myself in the center of cathedrals

gods that don’t move my core

Full time job pretending my soul accepts

Time has moved

Frequencies hastened

Here I am

Chastened by old wrongs

…..

Caught between a square

Green slime concoctions

Crosses and serpents

Faceless without my gods

12 seasons turned to one

Ancient spirits destroyed by another man’s summation

one leading nowhere

From the beginning

Only one sound I hear

……

In a land gifted with circles

Resurrection and rebirth

My soul only seeks redemption

Freedom in the deepest dark

That forest called evil by sailor tongues

There I must go

Returning, reverting

trace back

Foot prints on sand

Snails and cowries

My lane our lane

Paved in our own tongue

comes with rich tones and melodies

Reverberating throughout the land

Of the children under the sun and moon