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Wednesday, 10 October 2018

I Learnt Yoga, I Do Yoga

Pen to paper,
My mind is like river's flow,
Falls from mountains, liquid into vapour

And I am juggling, jiggling
Many situations, to have to deal with
Stress on my mind

Wisdom now needs
More packaging, repackaging
To be sold, on open markets

The jister is the most popular,
But never the one to be called
For reasoning, in times of crisis.

Christ! Lord have mercy,
Meaningless, irrelevant buffoonery
Bluffing with hands held up

When questions are asked
Still hoping you are never called
To answer on oath, to swear by

Eventually just a matter of time
Clicks and jittery-jitters,

Reality hits you like open season,
Begging for boots for confessions.
Priest on hibernation, taking time off

I am a King in my castle,
But my shoulders can't carry
This heavy load around,

So I leave my crown
When I travel out,
Safe, away from voyagers path

In another man's kingdom,
Small as it is, I have to abide,
Until I conquer to add to my own,

Humility is the acceptance
Of this arrangements
By the wise, am wisdom

No need ruffling feathers
When one can walk past an enemy
In the middle of the night on journeys long,

Recognise passage path
And that which is destination
Not to offload before due

So I learn to bite my tongue
After a while, I master the art
So I don't bite so much, so hard to bleed.

A time and a season
And relevance is all in the context
Of time and space, expiry dates

My pen bleeds
Through the fountain of endless flow
But I choose to break,

Allowing reading minds to digest
Situational speech, call this verses in Chapters in books, book markers

To be continued
Is a for gone conclusion
You will come to know

I learnt yoga
I do yoga
I am yoga, don't you see YOGA 

Tuesday, 18 September 2018

The Storm

"what" this is just gonna be a blood bath
"what" did I stutter
"what" did I stammer
"what" did I mumble.

Ok ok again ok again,
This is gonna be a blood bath.

Knee deep, in the trenches of blood
"what" rivers of blood

"What", like Vampires, all out to feast,
Like its hunting season, on the whales
And the Scandinavians and Japanese
Are all out to hunt.

"what" red is the colour, red is the soil,
"what" red is the clouds, red is the water
"what" red is the air
In my nose when I breath
The taste on my tongue
In my throat when I swallow

The eye of the beast
The heart of the monster
The soul of the devil

Now if you need me,
To paint a better picture,
Then go back to, verse one


Weather's play, on the weathers forcast
And the weather man is told
Not to "F***" up
"Blood, don't "F***" up"

The doors have been shut
The windows been bolted
The roof is secured

Still best to dig a hole, under the house
With 6inch thick concrete, as a bunker

I just saw the brightest day
And thats a worry,
It is always just before the storm
Reaches us, that's a worry

In a distance, quick approaching
I see the eye of the storm
The beast is awake

Who thought it was a good idea
To poke the beast in the eye
The beast is awaken

And S*** just hit the fan
Like the beast is awaken

If you get to live past this stage
And make it to see tomorrow,
Then granted, you get to live
To tell the story

Like a storm chaser
You get to say
There is peace in the eye
Of the storm

You've been there to know
To attest to it,
You've lived through it all

But don't go making
Too much of a noise
To test faith

For it is a myth
That lighting does not strike
Twice at the same place
So please be warned

And this is a story
Of life in a  nutshell.
In a nutshell, a story of life.

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.
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