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Thursday, 19 July 2018

Traveler's Path

Good byes
are like funerals without the body
funeral day cloth, colours are as you please  black, red, white or whatever
what does it matter

There are no bodies to cry over
no grounds soft enough to dig
save your crocodile tears
I am not that heavy, enough of that already

I have said soo many "MORE TIME"
and seen soo many friends fade
into distance with no contact
some I didn't even get to say good bye to


Some, distance was all it took
to break friendships bond
some broke the ice and stood soo close
yet so far in relations

I spent so much time on travelers path
I became homeless. My home, the travelers path; foriegn to my own kind
foriegn everywhere I went

Sometimes it hits me hard, with memories
Then echoes becomes the sound of
the deafening silence,
vision of people and places flash like PTSD.

So many doors open, like the gate keeper with keys that fits, all yet fits none
time and memory playing catch and release marks on the size caught

And photo opportunities,
click, then its memory,
These fishes belong to the river
not like, point and kill on dinner's plate

My fingures are running riot
out of control on key pads,
controlled by my thougts
that wakes the night up, in alarm

False alarm, who pulled the fire call point  to force an evacuation of sane minds.
I am guilty of all things
and innocent at the same time

Split personality blames the other
I am just here visiting,
wait if you want to make a case
wait for listening sessions

A grain of dust, makes it all spent
dust cleaners are only fighting
a loosing battle, against the Sahara
 a dust storm is in the horizon

Foreigners still learning tricks of the trade
It is only the novice without the first cut that feels a sense of invincibility
ask gulliver for explanations

Familiarity is the strangers place
I have ever been, like just going blind
having to learn to walk without eyes
and some still hold grudges

Old unsettled debts to be paid,
I lost the book keeper's book
in a hurricane along the line
so raise hands if you are owed

Rations, lets see how much will go around
and if it will get to you, it is only
God who makes it rain to appease thirst
when the air is without miost

But even the desert
is left raising issues
feeling ignored
awaiting on its turn for rationing

Please do not follow me
into the rabbit hole,
that is my mind on free flow
it is an unending waterfall

Sorry to say
You will need a shrink
on therapy lying on couches
trying to untangle it all

Monday, 19 February 2018

Who is Ebony Reigns

I am from the colourful side of the planet
But we are often all just so colour blind
On these visions

Short sightedness, seeing
Long sightedness, vision 20/20
None sighted this

Potholes on our road rolls,
Rules as the status quo, hills and valleys
Turns are sharp, eager to bite

Peddle to the metal
And it is a mexican stand
On face on collusion

My story, rest in peace
Now the dead are not left in peace
To be at peace

Vultures out in their numbers
Like uninvited guests with a sense
Of entitlement

What should I title this?
Chapters, open in books
Of condolence

What are you doing here?
To sign your attends to witness,
Confirm my death now, I am dead now

Glad now, be glad now
Your false prophet's prophecies
Just had a lucky break on the lottery

On my account
To bankrupt my time on earth
I am dead now, be glad now

I am dead now, gloat now
Many men wished death upon me
Enemies, frienemies all feeding of my name

Yea you know, even in my passing
They still  can't let me lie,
To rest my eye

I am dead now
Be glad now,
But not for long now

In another life
I will be back again
It is me again

I was just given a free pass
To heaven and back again
So feel free, bury my body

For God said
You can have anything to try me with
But for my soul, is protected, I am good

Still the Bad gyal from the nineties
No appologies
No appologies from this Bad gyal

Oh and I was with friends
I left with friends to the other side
Oh and I was with friends 

Saturday, 6 January 2018

Signatures in my dairy

Theft in society is sanctioned by governmental civil servant institutions.

Excuse the drug lord, he is only just a business man, into pharmaceuticals

Excuse the black market guy, he is only just into finance, sometimes he makes it rain

The first three pages of the most wanted list has been torn off, full of familiar names "white wash" conspiracy

Extortion is rampant and is done openly with no fear of repercussion in uniforms

Religion is the mockery of morality, the church is at it too, again!

What are the laws, who's laws to follow, who's laws to break

The  fire service women told the barber shop owner the CO2 expires after a year, they asked for 100Ghs to refill the cylinder that had not been used and still had the seal on.

What is a king to a god, what is a god to a non believer. Gradually we are all getting there, non believers in the system, the face of anarchy.

The face of anarchy, the best of us doesn't define us, it is the worst of us.

F what you heard,  there are no old men in this town of old, if grey is to count for something and honour is bankrupt not corrupt to look for a saving grace, eruptions

Confessions are like looking through a dirty mirror, you can't tell me nothing, any better, best until my good is better and my better best

I will spit  vernom to be used as an antidote  on their serpent  bites, devouring, be deviling my sanity on normality.

And I have got a list, a black list with signatures on, don't tempt me, I don't blackmail

Prisoners are for suckers, who had no pets when they were growing up, I take no prisoners

I am in that disgruntled mood, seeing red mist as a pill to be taken with my scotch.

Friday, 1 December 2017

Who made me a slave

Who made me a slave
In the 21st century
Who locked me in chains, caged

For Africa, as a slave
Trump over Hillary, seeking refuge
Everyday, anyday; oasis in dystopia

She is the reason
I am being sold as a slave
In Libya in the 21st century

For those that talk
Are not as dangerious
As those that act

Oh and Obama
Is no son of Africa
An imposter

He Killed Gadafi
For a place at the table
Of opulence, a con artist

Will not  judge him well
Time will be a pain to his name

He wasted the opportunity
A con artist, with a Noble prize
He killed so many, blood on his name

"When you try desperate
To be liked by all,
You disappoint those that matter"

Death is when legends are born
Expensive for cowards
A true test of value's resolve.

And religion has failed us all
A dirty mirror to clean
With no reflection on morality

A weight in gold of riches,
Stolen from the poor
In daylight of blind men

Plagued by the disease
Of self preservation of politics
Hallow, my material wealth so much

Assembled, butt sat next to corrupt men
On high tables deep in conversation
On common grounds shared

Why should I sugar coat my my pain
I am a slave in the 21st century
My leaders have failed me

I am back in the hands
Of my colonial masters
Who refused to let me into their land

Master, Master take me back
My land of riches
Made dry by corrupt men

Master wouldn't open doors
So at the gates of exit across seas
In my own land I am made a slave

We slaughtered all our heroes
And went back begging
To our old masters

I am a willing slave
In the 21st century
My leaders sold me cheap 

Saturday, 18 November 2017

The Debt Collector

I have stopped
Doing good for now
It is costing me too much

Like the sales seasons
Reduced to clear of summers
Wear no longer on the racks.

Debt collection
Has become too much
Of a hustle now

As agreed rejected now
Having to chase
Dear old regret

Just to put things back
In their rightful place
Back to order

Loosing on opportunity cost
Where whole meal is now
Reduced to piece meal

I am forced
To pick crumbs off
The table

Less than bite size to nible on
When it is my own cake
To have

I called a guy
Who owed me one
He did not pick

The next time we spoke
It was all awkward
Why awkward

When I am
Just taking back my own
Owed me

Why gain interest of stress
As value added
On loans given

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