Eulogy

Given god’s dependence upon the turn of the moon,
the cast of stars set too soon:
as true to Truth as any tale can be,
fate and fortune eased in upon the wind, transcended sin,
sending thrumming chords drumming across astral coasts.
Judges coalesce; shimmering ghosts progress into Being,
gathering in the Between
scenes from a life’s full stream…
we Sankofa birds fly free of human need.

Omni-dimensional dreams bless unreflective lives,
counter all guesses and unruly messes
with Truth,
reproof at wasted opportunities and willful
delusion, the fusion of broken illusions
crumble Soul’s pride;
afraid of goals set beyond the highest heights.
Ego slides by on red tides bearing ravenous death
breath, by poisonous breath.

Blessed moments crest in orchestral harmony,
timpani’s boom, life’s promise of doom
surpassed
by joyous occasion,
the harmonic accompaniment of heaven-sent Souls
present fated journeys past all impossible goals.
Dark mountains, treeless plains and dusty city streets
mark space, reveal traces of karmic debt
just in time to collect the bet regarding the outcome of
the Revolution,
the Final Solution
and, or, as the case may be,
the Alpha and Omega Resolution.

The stakes of pre-life agreements
countered by imps and demons well aware of the plan,
willing ever and always to lend helping hands
to a stumbling, bumbling and weak-minded man
held aloft by Souls mate in Salvation;
timely arrival, mutual survival, a synchronistic revival
against the night, benighted frights and unholy delights;
the Divine resolution, the sublime and humble solution
of countless lifetimes
together, forever
entwined.

Heart screams.
Tormented, torturous trials and tribulations,
the Stations of the Cross bear stark witness
to the relief of godly bliss promised in the afterlife;
after all this pain and strife there better damn well be a prize.
Souls realize that in god’s eyes the willful sty is life-spans wide and
dimensions in height,
all the while Omniscient sighs preside over terrific times,
soothing silence within precedes the arrival of the Divine.
Pentecostal Spirits sing songs awakening god within,
the twin to ego’s excess, the Omnipotent eternal,
the diurnal wanderer bears witness against
myself…
weighing deeds and intentions,
life’s companion bows down to
the beautiful and wondrous crown of Omnipresent renown.

Tones resounding joy pierce
hearts, rending agony
as Soul diffuses in subatomic resolution
regarding the metronomic dilution of a lifetime’s pride
cosmically-encoded and rendered obsolete.
Life-mode ends, Spirit sends for us
without fail,
true tales end with nothing resolved;
no agreement or dispute of content need become
involved.
Each Soul’s path to Light,
our personal and spirit-centered Calls
and Passions mask the similarity of task.
And yet, the shared sense of destiny and Becoming became and
all our stories are, were and will always be,
the same.

macrocOsmosis

battles fought above and below

all there is to life
is loving slow
and living without sin
from alpha to the end
only then shall we begin to fly
upon eagles wings
astral minstrels cry
while crooning soulful lullabies
to the moon and angels up on high
Ephemeral chariots
cross emerald skies by day
like judas escariot’s sire
was betrayed in every way
by base desire and the denial
of a liar who walked with feet of clay
my soul has grown deep
like a river
langston said
ethiopia cried out
we must give unto the dead
not with a whisper but with a shout
without doubt
ancestral souls fine-tune genetic goals
while double dutch b-girls
skip lifetimes in one trip
commit high crimes tight-lipped
demonic phonics rap like stetsasonic
bombastical fantastical beats freak
like mystikal out on the street

feral crackheads lie
in search of the next high
flying by on bat-wings
drenched by the stench of corruption
lynched by the mention of destruction
lust and pride take a dusty ride
through death valley
and dark urban alleys
a baby’s wail signals travails
wafting upon the night’s breeze like
seeds of death and disease that
freeze the leaves of skeletal trees
stilling breath and
slumber’s ease

on the other side of light
wonder marks the sight of
brighter days and mighty waves
in a towering fury of utter purity
all-encompassing love
accompanies the dove
rising ever above heaven’s gate
tupac told us it was too late
to try to change the hand of fate
no slate is clean of mortal sins
nor are we free of thoughtless friends
the heart senses trends
we can’t begin to hear or see
nor can we pretend that we are free

little things matter most
but like embittered ghosts we
refuse to toast life
the sweet moments without strife
the sight of a child’s
wide-eyed smile
the delight of living without denial
trials and tribulations
face our nations
stationed on the brink of disaster
the master calls and faster we ride
through torturous hell we slide
losing sight of the real so
precious moments we must steal
from alpha to the end

only with ourselves must we contend

aquarius rises

medium to light brown
sable red
blue-black or ivory-toned
vermillion-skinned beauties
slender and fey short-statured and tall
thickness on display
round curves and wispy hips undulating
with the rhythm of nature’s blessings
gazelle-like gracefulness captures this
man’s fancy
ebony raven shades of
brunette and ash blonde
kinky wavy or straight
short and long haired sirens wail seductively
rotund breasts fecund in their bounty
or perky perturbations
taut aureoles with nipple-thrust visible
through sheer cloth
is like broth to a sick man’s soul
high-cheeked wide browed Women
with almond shaped eyes
green blue brown and black
inviting sensual delights
so pleasing to my sight
smooth skin soft and so sensitive to the touch
passion’s heat whispered with the
oooohs and aaaaaaahs
of Love’s breath

all Women are mysterious
with the capacity to make men delirious
beauty so sublime both in body and in mind
the penchant for today’s society to underestimate
the depth of Woman’s wisdom is sinful
the style of a young Girl’s wiles
the elegance of a Woman’s statements
the earthiness of a Mother’s worthiness
the reality of a Sista’s mentality
all i can do is write the truth
these words fall far beyond reproof
witness to the fear that men retain
the distaste they relate to a Woman’s brain

multiple conversations held simultaneously
meaning gained stored and synthesized
new threads broken from original thoughts
returning intact to create a tapestry of interaction
far beyond the ability of most men to grasp

the birth process
holy invocation of Sun Moon and Stars
gentle thrumming of life’s first gasp
within the womb
growing coalescing in mysterious harmony
feeding and molding the Feminine Principle
into mood-shifting paradigms of depression delight and anger
lust/love-filled and ravenous for sustenance
willing to kill or be killed to fulfill her biological imperative

ecstatic multiplications of orgasms
astound the single/double/triple-shoted stud
thrusting ably into soothing wetness and warmth
mind alight with visions of baseball games
and statistical problems
intent upon prolonging the moment while realizing
that his ability to perform is entirely dependent
upon the Woman
beneath/over/beside him
coaxing and cajoling his sperm
calculating his endurance
cooing and cawing her approval or disdain
imperious to his overwhelming need for
success

thrice-born vixens
Goddesses in conception and form
Women hold the key to eternity within them
protected by magical spells and ancient invocations
passed down through centuries of persecution
awaiting the dawning of the New Spiritual Revolution
men sense this truth with trepidation decrying the soulful
desire for completion in favor of the material need for
subordination

Beauty defined lies in the eyes
the Perception of Perfection is subjected to the mind
neither form nor feature creates the spiritual mold
broken after each cast
with infinite variations of ear and nose lips and mouths
breasts thighs and soulful eyes
body types abound
each perfected upon the shining wheel of the Divine Potter
intent upon her art she casts poetic clay far and wide
in her conception of Eternity

through these fields of Beauty i wander
my artists eye capturing the essence of purity and wantoness
evident in glances held too long
appreciative smiles coming on too strong
hips swaying seductively in tune
pronouncing the inevitability of my Sexual Doom
to continuously fall in Lust is an invitation of damnation
a destructive occasion to any relationship’s foundation
a denigration of God’s purpose
a remonstration against lack of focus

the veneration of Woman’s perfection
can be achieved through the acknowledgement
that She is Heaven-sent
meant for man to worship in the form of Divinity
the Holy Trinity of father Mother and child
a representation here on Earth of an eternal principle
that knows no boundaries despite the prognostications
of patriarchial elders long passed to dust and infamy

Aquarius rises in her eyes
the delight of inner sight reveals what is oh so plain to see
that all are worthy of Divinity
that Beauty is the sum of all that’s in me
that i apply to you in lieu of objectivity
i see flames of understanding dawning
on the horizon of man’s rule
as inevitability becomes reality
and true relationships transcend
the structures of meta-narrational fractures
that have divided Humanity for too long
sight unseen we ascend
attendant upon the fruitful Tree
of the Goddess of Perfection and Peace
and though the rotation of Universes never cease
i shall acknowledge Woman’s Beauty
until we are Free

Paradise Lost

Starfish fall from the sky
doomed to commit social suicide,
their limpid eyes alight with bubbly sighs,
their teary cries indicative of
pain-filled lies
spread by dolphins and whales
whispering dolorous tales
to sailors lost,
star-crossed by kraken-sent dreams,
tossed by waves of cerulean eyes
blinking at seahorses flying high
above, the songs of mermaids and mermen
undulating strong,
wavelengths of sin, the eternal rights of wrong,
blending harmonics cresting diatonic scales
crooning Niad love songs
whilest below,
the sharks and cuttlefish stew,
barnacles rumbling, tumbling through
electromagnetic currents
and whispering torrents,
cockles and mussels desirous of more, grumbling
and stumbling along the sea-shore,
staring fearfully at volcanic peaks
emitting steam, belching flames and
preening, no longer only dreaming of
hell on earth, but prepared to witness
the rebirth of catastrophic times,
humbolt squid and jellyfish dance,
prancing conga lines happy as clams
and oysters gleefully clapping
their halfshells as oxygen fails
and chemtrails line the sky,
the travails of humanity pass on by,
their toils only the minutest of boils
taxing Gaia’s skin, the timeline begins
and then ends without remark,
their egocentric tribulations purely a lark
embarked upon by signifying sea urchins and
lobsters, hurling insults and curses like mobsters
attempting to shatter eternity’s bones
but failing, sailing into oblivion
nailed to a butterfly’s cross,
transformation promised,
paradise lost.

I Love You, In …

I love you,
In the most expansive
And truest of
Ways.

Arms open wide,
Heart bursting with pride
We share a passion to
Last throughout
The days.

Words spoken, true
My heart given, to you
Open eyes see the light of
Love’s dawning, the sight
Overwhelms fear-filled souls
Giving rise to denial and
Jealous reprisal.

Whose love do you seek,
Why are you friends with
That freak,
Why does she talk to you
That way,
Do you love me
Today?

Why do you tell her
Those words,
Don’t you care whom
You hurt,
Aren’t I enough for
Your love, aren’t I sent
from above?

Will you love me tomorrow
Where you go, I will
Follow, give me your heart
Today, and I’ll never go
Away, I’ll be yours for
All time and love you tenderly,
It is true.

Sublime moments of bliss
We will share, rising high
Into the air we will float
On clouds of joy, winged love
In skies above
We’re soaring free,
Meant to be, hearts open wide
The ides of desire
Impassioned flower of
Soul’s most wondrous and
Abundant power.

Life’s too short
To deny, the existence
of a love that permeates
Both nights and days,
That validates shared experience
In a myriad of ways,
In friendship and courtship
And the most intense of
Passion plays.

What I give to you is real,
Intensely felt and offered, still
Mortal fear and pain abound,
Resoundingly, a crown of thorns
Worn proudly.

Of such perceptive tropes life
Consists, fomenting karmic odes
To transient bliss, lost in experiential
Episodes, unending incarnation
Blending effect and causation’s
Origin from quantum instances
To original sin.

Arms open wide,
Heart bursting with pride
We share a passion to
Last throughout
The days.

I love you
In the most expansive
And truest,
Of ways.

the basement

mirrors twist my reality sideways upside down and all around as the circle turns and my soul burns in the embers of another ego-trippin’ episode of pain and heartache, black american style. the cadence is counted by fleetin’ affairs and distant loves, bereft of a dove’s purity of existence by willful fire and callous desire. dreams flow like streams and pleasure obscures the treasure of a perfect love, hidden within by layers of sin and distant chagrin. i go outside myself to come back in, spin and watch the sky as love dies the slow death, nagged ceaselessly by false expectations come round again like an old friend, faithful till the end.

round and round i go, tired, but checkin’ the flow as life wanders past, pausin’ in fits and starts; some parts comin’ clear, albeit framed by fear. i check my stylo every now and then, recognizing my patterns, my shame and my sins. in seeing my reflection in all that i do and say my truth is flung back in my face, no waste of time or space in this eternal race every sweet taste of pleasure is chased by demons of lust and loathing misplaced.

i gasp with bliss as i am soul-kissed by greed and the seeds of material need that bleed the blood of my ancestors. their tears trace paths of mercurial fears through the haze of my self-induced daze. i lie to myself about myself as i wait – in the meantime – undulating beneath my own caress, undoubtedly blessed, whinin’ about fate as i commit the ultimate act of self-hate. gratuitous spiritual masturbation murders afrofuturistic nations, melanated gods and goddesses of infinite conception, victims of unconscionable psychological deception, imparted at the cellular level.

as a metaphor, music soars loftily, in tune with my doom. the neurotic treble tones bone the bass clef, which acts as the most def function, linking sexual harmonics to junctions of material compunction and unconscious urges that surge to be purged.

such is the state of my slate and i progress in spates of determination, persuaded yet jaded by life, served cold on a broken plate. the warmth of unconditional love passes through the glass. divine, white light shines, multiplying sight and i revel in its soothing glow. the past and future intertwine as joyous laughter denies the sorrowful cries that overlie my sighs of soul-ache, crooned soon after.

love permeates all, has since the fall of divinity to the physical plane, i am but a link in the chain, a lock in the mane of god. i am risen and i traverse death aloft on the breath of life, above strife, selfish gain and gratuitous pain, above love denied or quantified.  today, i pray.  amen-ra.

 

an ascension poem

The dawn of my discontent heralds
A decision not to repent.

The moment of my awakening is dependent
Upon the slaking of a physical thirst, an irrepressible
Urge to manifest Divinity, which is my propensity.

And yet, these days I wake wondering about my
Purpose, whether or not I’ll make it till the End
Without mending my ways,
Whether or not these days of Love and Light are only
A glimpse into the infinite array of possiblities that might
Send me spiraling downwards, spinning into
Eternal night.

It’s hard to fight an enemy you can’t see.

It’s hard to to change when you don’t know what you want
To be.

It’s hard to revolt if you don’t know what it means to be
Free.

Church lets out and the congregation mills about
Gossiping and laughing, their faith dependent upon their
Economic clout.

Without doubt God was there, He’s everywhere but is that
Stare I receive from the lady next to me when I shout
A look of disdain?

Is she upset because I’m expressing my pain? Would my
Joy send her hands extending Heaven-ward,
Buoyed upward
By a transcendent penitence and upswelling innocence?

During a midnight meditation session of
Blessing and Light
With those Transcendental Monks I met in a
Realm of Astral Delight
I thought I heard Celestial Voices singing,
But it was only someone’s phone ringing;
Some song I’d never heard about bling-blinging,
And booties shaking while the Earth and Heavens
Are quaking.

I suppose everybody doesn’t know, but this planet’s flow
Has been disrupted.

Every government on Earth has been corrupted.

The media spins lies and vies for our attention, while
Out and about
Incarnate Demons commit atrocities
Beyond mention.

But we don’t see those types of TV shows because
Survivors on again and -
Guess what -
This time the Tribes are divided by race and
The real news about Libya and Syria has disappeared
Without a trace.

Political scandals come and go, the vagaries of life
Continue to flow and we bow to the demands of daily
Living, hopefully forgiving ourselves our shortcomings,
While praying to overcome certain
Longings and desires
That are sure to bring us back down again
Into the mud and sand of material
Existence.

Discontent has sent me packing, lacking the stamina to
Retain depression, to succumb to the obsession of constant
Dwelling upon negativity and dismay, my eternal delight
Is the Light.

Thusly satiated, my heart rises as my soul realizes that
There is no End.

From Beginning to Beginning, my Soul continues to
Ascend

.

Exactly

So I’m surfing Creation 
Carving waves and slashing pipelines 
Of the Divine 
Internalizing the sublime and 
Seeking something 
- I’m not sure what 
Exactly - 
But I find shades of it in people 
And personalities beyond 
Nationality 

It’s a similarity of Soul 
A singular sensation 
A simpatico Spirit in tune to 
Slightly otherworldly songs 
Living the quality of existence that brings 
Elevated Souls into close association 
Each also seeking something 
- Not sure of what 
Exactly - 
But Synchronicity silences 
Sense and sensitivity 

Synchronicity demands sensation and 
Soothingly smooth transitions 
In companionship 
Perhaps best expressed as the Test 
Of Truth sought in incongruity 
Of lives lived in perpetuity 
Loving someone 
- Not being sure of who 
Exactly - 
But knowing that they’ve been 
Seeking you too across Life 
And Time’s eternal 
View 

Camaraderie opens Hearts and 
Souls to passion 
Reveals the Spiritual in material 
Form torn directly from the womb of 
Creation Herself weaving spells of 
An exotic nature demanding 
The Love of someone 
- Nobody is sure of who 
Exactly - 
But we’ve found each other 
Here in the depths of Hearts 
Where Love has been 
From the start 

So to finally see through the Illusion 
This contusion upon consciousness 
A creation of febrile mind-states 
Related to the inability to create 
Stability 
A lack of humility and the 
Continuous desire for 
Something new 
Someone truly true 
- Who can really be sure of who 
Exactly - 
But here we find ourselves yet again 
Tending to Antimatter Realities 
Victims of Causality engaging in 
Seemingly random and unadulterated 
Sin.

The Dust of Eternity

People come into and
out of
our lives as we
hide from the
Divine:
seeking experience,
sympatico souls
trying to remind ourselves
of the time before
Time
and Space
in that singular, expansive
Place
where the taste of
Joy and Divinity’s
breath filled us with
unconditional trust
and unbroken harmony
thrilled us,
left us laughing, singing
along with the
Music of the Spheres,
our tears were
a repudiation of
worldly fears,
not justifications
whispered wildly
to tender and trembling
ears.

There was a motion in
the Void
devoid of external light
watching, lingering -
possessive of the
Second Sight – and
proclaiming ascendency,
clambering through the branches of
the Life-giving Tree
shouting out its desire
to be free of
the Will of
G-d.

Motion became manifest,
subject to the incarnate test
and Soul descended unto
the Physical planes,
experiencing ephemeral pleasure
and seemingly unceasing and
heartrending pain.

From then, we date the
Beginning of the Game,
of life and love,
death and destruction
the diurnal cycle of
revelation and obstruction,
Heaven and Hell,
Lucifer and Jehovah,
the Black Arts held High
herald the White Arts
mis-applied.

While, on the other side
of Creation…

…gyrating sinuously like
a Soul-singer,
the Light-bringer shouted out,
“Y = Self!
I am the Alpha and the Omega,
the eternal, Morning Star!”
and lightning rent the sky
as demons flew by
and Angels looked on
from afar.

Descending through Time
and Space
the human race propagates
an eternity of Souls
incarnate
at a portentous, and
world-changing
Gate
of potentiality,
sensuality and lust
flattering Ego, breaking trust
the Dust of Eternity calls,
spirits rise and fall,
Desire and Destiny resonating,
within us all.

People manifest change
and the potential for perfection,
the convective rising
of emotions,
potions of want and need,
seeds of disfunction and greed,
resulting in further movement
the Void surpassed,
karma amassed,
and he leaves the sphere of
your negative influence,
she cleaves unto sublime
significations regarding
the confluence of
synchronicity and love,
G-d’s wry laughter
permeates the Hereafter,
booming down
from above
as we float like doves
on Wings of Joy,
bursting into sunlit brilliance
phoenix-like,
rising from the ashes of
our own demise.

To Sleep …

Awakening dawn light signals ascent into conscious awareness, civilizations on the cusp of paradigm shift seeking enlightenment within, heralding world changes without. Verdant fields of golden light beckon souls of a similar brightness, while aloft spears of spirit soar, consciousness attentive to transmutation, brilliantly bursting illusory laws of gravitational boundaries effortlessly, spinning into silence. The music of the spheres sublimates sense and sensation alike, revealing the profundity of pain, the subtle whispers of ignorance, vaporized in the intensifying light of enlightenment’s searing awakening.

Flowing rivers of color dotted by ponds of dark potentiality waver and thrust bullishly through conglomerations of desire, birthing new paradigms, thought modes and processes conscious of their singular nature. Bursting upon the scene aware that there is nothing new under the sun, swift repetition of ancient patterns establishes the codex, chiseled in stone and bone, inscribed in the marrow and genetic code of amoeba and homo sapien sapien alike, synthesizing aeons of energetic permutations and every, single incarnative urging of probability’s unique, quantum directive.

A conch shell of Infinite size sounds, the bass bellow of Being reverbrating within the Absolute, imbuing Creation with consciousness, the word heard, omnipresence leading to omiscience which then, through action, heralds omnipotence’s virgin birth, black hole multiversal conception being the inception of sentience made manifest upon the material plane of existence.

The bass booms, gentle thrumming augmenting the conch’s funky vibrations, the cosmos created to the beat, the eternal tapping of Divinity’s galaxy-spanning feet.

9-ether emanations tingle like feathers upon the soul, tickling shivers blending pleasure and pain, sensitivity to the sound of an atom clapping on the other side of  the multiverse a warm knowing birthed in sacral spaces scored for universal dissemination. Orchestral haunts echo the tuning of forks and instruments designed to awaken minds, while time continues to flow down the rabbit hole, indicative of the state of our individual souls.

Evening replaces noon’s heat with circadian rhythmic songs, birds twitter in time, the conch’s notes grown long. The feet of divinity slow an infinite nano-second of soul blown by astral breezes past the branches of ghostly trees, their potent seeds free to traverse chronological fallacies in search of truth, burrowing among the roots, dirt and skin beneath the nails of sin, scratching at the seedy underbelly of the subjective perceptive, a collective invective of sarcastic sneers.

But I just judge the game, I don’t play. Before I sleep, I dream, visions like scenes of a fantasy’s ilk, encompassing the organic goodness of mother’s milk from which I’ve weaned y’all, smiling and chuckling to myself as portentous night falls, and slumber calls me to rest, the spiraling precession of knowledge realized as the sole condition of life’s eternal test.