an ode to her and me

Perspiration scribbles our faces with sweat
candle lights making them to glisten and look like golden droplets
looking at my reflection on this wine glass,
though a disfigured image, im like..she is one lucky lass
she touches my free hand
and my mind is creating images of fertile idyllic lands
this is what raised me...
now see...
some years ago they fought wars leading them to their graves
but the sun didnt set, thats why we term them as braves
monologue of laments
through her soft touch, she knows how meant
when i said..."soul to soul, togetha we face our pasts and future sentiments
yeah us, as the present...

~A Lost Child the Poet of Darkness~

johnny was

~inspired by "johnny was"- bob marley~


she cried
she held her head and cried
comforting her, i kinda tried
but my tears also started flowing
and haze in my brain started glowing
like her, the daze in my mind was showing
secluded sorrow
shuttering dreams of tomorrow
no side shows
she stammered-johnny was....
....johnny was a good boy
the creator of sparks of joy...
that was always embedded in her soul
now they have taken him away from her
and the reason she doesnt even know

johnny was a good boy
he was a good boy

body riddled with slugs
happens oftenly to those who live in rags
coz they were born in wrong families
sweat and blood to make full their bellies
beautiful girls watch petals of their proud womanhood off and they cant do anything
coz that's their slumming tactic
yellow tapes, body bags, cold hugs
siren sounds, disturbing the serenity of the hood
souls of mischief

johnny was a good boy
he was a good boy

and she cried coz she knows what's true
she cried for every youth felled
everz daughter who is hiv infected
through rapes and dirty hustles coz she trying to feed her younger siblings
coz mama and papa are gone, another street victims
she cried coz of everyone in jail
coz they got no strength for prison bails
and she cried for you and me
every ghetto youth coz we endangered species
and this never ceases
and she cried, johnny was a good boy
he was a good boy
a good boy, good boy


~A Lost Child the Poet of Darkness~

poet of a lesser god

roken spirit
pushed to the wall of misfortune
no more sunshine, thanks to the scuddin gray clouds
sounds from the moon
unheard for days
no more new ideas for new ways
soul sways
at the edge of the cliff
beliefs,
of thoughts succumbs to voids of past
and its a fall at last
a fall at last

as i descend to the depth of the corner of social oblivion
my dreams glimpsin the vaulted spires of my future
which are catching my falling sounds in their artistic hearts to release them at night as whispers
dark secrets scrawled on the skulls of my alter egos
wishing i never died, cause im hating my life sequel
im thirsty for blood and freedom
thirsty for disdain and controlled wisdom
im thirsty for flesh,
yes flesh and sins tgat accompanys it
im thirsty for dead words of darkness,
the demonic candle flames
casting my shadows oveq my shadows
stain for stain, jasho kwa jasho
asking why the spiritual deserted me
askin why my azoic dreams follows me
askin why my aching voids wont leave me
askin why, im a poet of a lesser God
...a poet of a lesser God
...a poet of a lesser God

askin why...
it feels so empty in here
heart torn to shreds and memories with cosmic stars up in there
looking down at me
with mockery grins
..laughing of how i dreamt to be great
..how slowly life stole my life
and abyss in a swift motion
crept to take the space
crept to take the space
crept to take the space
...then DOOM!
im a poet of a lesser God
..a poet of a lesser God
..a poet of a lesser God

~a lost child~

..take me back to time..

take me back to time
few seconds before the world was born
before cosmological model of the
early development of universe
before the hypothesis of the primeval atom
cause i wanna see that big bang
take me back to time of Paleozoic
and Mesozoic eras
shortly after Pangea
before the components continents were separated
into the current configuration
cause i wanna experience that continents drift
and see families of extinct creatures
being separated by nature
take me back to time when hominids existed
to see the virgin Lucy,the nearderthal beauty
to stare at her ass
to know how she walked like and stare
at her perky boobs
and maybe i could save her from
falling into the valley that took her life

take me back to time
the to the first cradle of civilization
cause i wanna see vast idyllic fertile lands
of Mesopotamia
to experience the Neolithic Revolution
to swim butt naked in waters of Indus River
to smoke weed leaning on the banks of Shang the
Yellow River Valley
i wanna chase Black and Asian women in the streets
of Babylon
take me back to time of sedentarization
to live in Natufian culture
to start ways of human survival
to perform spoken words in open mics slams
in the streets of Memphis and Uruk
take me back to time of Bronze Age
cause i wanna rhyme with proto-writing
writing poetry on oracle bone script
i wanna change history of Maya and Incas
and record it o a lyrical verse

take me back to time of Akkadain Empire
cause i wanna know how it felt to be first
the planet earth's emperor
i wanna write my feelings down with
Sumerian cuneiform scripts
each line keeping it ancient and street
take me back to time
in the dynastic Egypt
in the Nile Valley
to play part unification of upper and
lower Egypt
together with Achaemenid, i wanna rule Misri
and glow grains with Kubbaniya culture
i wanna fish,hunt and gather,
using stone tools in Sudan
lamenting poetically with hieroglyph writing
i wanna produce ceramic in ancient Egypt mortar
building sphinx, pyramids and performing surgeries
teaching maths and science
to lay a foundation for future Aristole and Plato
take me back to time
take me back
cause i wanna be part of of the beginning
...

a lost child the poet of darkness

poet of darkness

looking at the sunshine
and its like another science fiction
implanted in the blue skies
to shine for them...
...but not me
and then i see the gloomy darkness embracing me
dark laughters of time past
filling the spaces left in my time present

i was here
when there were golden spires
when i recognized sunshine coz i could handle the glare
walking through the streets of babylon
with the bestest of companions
now i dream about life
breathing earth smelling air
staring back at empty stares
feeling my skeleton living the body
with a "squash"
flesh thats rotten hissing as a smelly dark fluid gushes
earthly worms rejoice
as they feast the body of
the darkness beast

i dream of my mama heavily pregnant with me
when they forced her to swim in the desert sea
where she gave birth to me
the blood turning the water red, and proudly they called it the "red sea"
im now seeing sinking slave ships
hungry waters opening up their mouths to munch the dark skin
as screams disapear
in the realm of poseidon

looking down at the unmarked graves
of souls i used to slit throats
a groaning sound,
that's demonic bound
escapes me
and i realise the battle im facing...
me as a poet of darkness....
....
..

the pain in words

the pain in words
the piercin past and its swords
the pain with fangs
fangs,bitin my pen and its gangs
gangs,sired by inks on the pads,
it burns.
n sorrow its wat it turns
numbin my brain,
stale memories,long ago those those brains were slained
cut of umbilical cord
aint cut of maternal bond
wen i was lil boy
i neva played wit toys
coz daddy neva bought me one wat was wrong
im a dumb kid wit a pen,gotta stay strong
n thats y i gona milk this cow
coz poetry showed me the best way how
..
..
the pain in words
those painin words
wants,those i despise engagin in monologue of ma thots
caught,damn i cant connect my life's puzzle dots
fought, wen i had energy now cant fathom this weakness source
neva bin in a real rship,but im in luv wit a gal
she doesnt love me back,thats y ma soul doesnt walks so tall
amazingly,a part of me want to be hated
but my emotions cant admit it
glowin up neva had deep friends
wer neva clickd,coz i disliked their thinkin trend
i stayed alone
neva had a lil siz thtas y my life neva shone
only few can unstd my sentiments
stood to live by em,cant escape my souls torments
fuckdestiny
i wld love to live my fate 4 infinity!!!
.....

caricature of thoughts

 daisies
lilacs
labyrinth
ink and feather
scrolls,ancient minds
the smell of rain
like smell of blood
blood and sand
a black gladiator
god of arena?
red face,the creator's soil
or mud from mars?
earth and fire and wind and water
the mystic elements fighting for my soul
weird thoughts
weird words,weird words?
that was couz,my mentor!!!
gritted teeth
cold or pain?
snowball in hell
mind relapse
sudanese pyramids
nubians brains
shashamane
the home to descendants of slaves
crosses hanging upside down
no religion in heaven
peace,not justice?
filling jars of clays with wordplays
filling jars of clays with...water??!
the taste of wine
papyrus wrapped
another moses being born
caricature of thoughts
im snowball and im gone!!!

my little niece

im holdin my lil niece
feelin the innocence in her
untamed
timid
her lil soul at peace
coz she doesnt know the difference
of yesterday and today,
and tomorrow.
her body so serene,
as she smiles at her infant world
not knowin the evil thats
her mature world awaits her
i hope she can be young forever
so that she cant see
all these barbaric depth which
human race descend to..
men like us,with a killer instinct,
society and its lies,
world,so hungry,waiting for her
why does she have to face all
these afflictions????
and she doesnt know even where,how,why
the older generation fucked up!
she is now a statistic
just another human being,
who will be treated like other human beings
i wish the world could see her,
eyes closed as she sleep on my lap,
that peace,
the epitome of good life which we alwys
yearn for!!!

blisses

 thats him in the tranquility  of the night
enclipsed by his disturbed soul
he knows tym is of his essence...
but he had sworn neva..but wen
he remembers bout the life they extract,
urges of succumbin to his heart needs
becomes intense
..
...
in the dark of the night
she stares at the  blackness out of spite
cz its the only way she could think
n feel alright
he had told her''its like being on a cliiff  early morning,
n watch the sun rise at  the far horizon''
she can only turn and hug her pillow
the only witness to her emotional torture
..
..
he thinks they look surreal
he saw behold them
that idylic peace,lilacs,blossomin of jasmines..
..FUTURE
so exquisite...APHRODITE EYES??
POETRY SERENITY IN THE APHRODITE'S EYES
...
...
she sighs,
she uses her real eyes,
to realise the real lies
n this..this is nuttin but truth..
..the boy is in love wit her
n mayb,just a mayb..
she will eventually feel the same way too..
..
..
and she sleeps in a fantastic peace
as he blows to the darkness, a gudnyt kiss
n she smiles in her sleep
cz she knows it was meant for her
he dreams... a beautifull dream
n feng shui swips away the ugly emotions..
...replacin em with sheer ones..
..its all blissfull!!

viral scribes

prolific viral scribes marred with crescents
labyrinths of darkness being illuminated,
by the pen oozing blood
scripts of hate epithets being scrawled on
skulls of ancient intellectual brains
discreet mumbles,
poets of darkness conversing cryptic words
sending innocent souls to sanitarium
the evil asylum
the nipples of shewolf erect as golden
milk drips to the waiting mouths of kindreds of
romulus and remus
writing on the walls
preaching gnopstic gospels to the atheists
with an instinct so satanic
..
an infant cry's
reincarcerated foetus of an emanciated
black woman
what's real,tir na n'og or valhalla
celtic or scandinivian
masonic and religions...both lies
to send souls to captivity
shackles of philopoetry get entangled
with skeletons of our black ancestors..
and that's why through this art,
our neighbours of pangean time cant defeat us
..
wind from cemetery carrying sneers of dead,
blows to ears of so called righteous
dumb  kids with pens
writing about numb brains of men
with ugly grins enough to stop the big ben
and saying goodbye to now and time
..
songs and praises like nubians,black jews and kushmen
welcoming perseus to shashamane
rosary cruxifixes,tasbih beads and david's stars
hanging on skeleton necks of dead men
wearing distinctive black mantles,
with crosses hanging upside down,
carrying inks and feathers,
and tattered ancient scrolls..
coming to liberate your minds with words
of wisdom using para-linguistic in their voices
to disagree with what evil men fed you!!!!!!

a lost child's creed

cold hearted and young
using ink as a tongue
im a dumb kid with a pen
feasting on intellectual brains of men
sipping tears of sun
taking slugs from evil sons of guns
my memory lane,
is full of potholes of pain
my childhood was strained
coz my heart was dry and never knew rain
but each second was full of ecstatic thrill
i was quick to bleed my pen before present got killed
with every clock chime,
i laid a rhyme
to commemorate the passing time
i was a soul of mischief
and my alter ego was dying with grief


now look at me,
crying foul to the scudding dark clouds for
sun rays that i cant see
im a disgrace to the society
though im reciting Parables of Franz Kafka and
scrolls of the Dead Sea
its a shame the knowledge cant help me


now i wait  for the evening of my life
when the curtains will close and goodbye the
emotional strife
but until then,this pen,i hold it tight
squeezing from it every syllable to sire
mass weapons for this fight
im ruling over my verbal scripture
scrawling scripts on dead skins,writing
about my future
to poetry im a lustful seed
its bittersweet,in their monologue of thoughts
they say im the cursed breed
when my moods swing,i make my pen to bleed
a lost child's creed!!!

her misery

with my pen,
i rape her full f my words
finally able to break the dried scum
of secretions,
that had glued hr lips together
darkness!
then the pain and the haze
buried by an uneasy compromise
she supposed it to be a relief
and the pain itself begins not to recede,
but to erode

as i push more and more
that dark-gray cloud in her eyes,
begin to dissipate faster and faster
she sees my grinning gaped mouth,
and my from death to life eagerness
and she understand...
she is in a hell of a jam

that prescient part of her mind sees me
long before i knew i was seeing her
while im on top of her,
she sees me like im a graven image
worshiped by the superstitious African tribes..
..stones
..and doom!

her body is big but generous
no welcoming orifices or even open spaces,
areas of hiatus
most of all,
she gives me a disturbing sense of solidity
as if she has no blood vessels
or internal organs
she looks both ludicrous and queerly apt


and i wake up...a dream,
a nightmare?? and then it dawns to me..
...''that what happens when you try to write
a poem and your heart is not yet ready!''
...HER MISERY!!!!!