Only Pain Hurts:

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This wretched clock – inside my head – ticks

Time’s tide ensuring contradiction

Defines every last minute

Spurs daily life’s interaction

Toward cosmic motion’s forward roll

Souls eagerly wish each coming day

Silenced sleep’s passing – beyond control

Slowly ekes existence away

 

Frivolous years cede gambler’s dice

Resourced to good health, and patience

Fate’s mortal coil reveals fair price

Steadily morphed into grandparents

Birthdate induced anniversaries

Count momentum’s animated growth

Heralds progressive maturity

Old age seems harmlessly remote

 

At mercy of global entire

Memories reside in things palatial

Sweet conundrum’s ultimate sour

Pleasures pain humanely essential

Timid, ungrateful fools fear death

Better they realize only grief hurts

When called, it’s pointless saying not yet

Flesh, inevitably, returns to dirt.

 

 

Worlds Of Make Believe:

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Civilian’s ship run aground

Politics – nee – religion complicit

Deception’s fruit abounds

Fake light behaving like spirit

Ambitiously wore Anansi’s crown

Spout ambiguous word testify

Schizophrenic horde, chomping bit

… says Satan became electric

 

Swollen glands steadily profligate

Squeezed through, sweaty palms decidedly

Condoned confederate inebriates

Mammon’s crown steadily took over

Simplest of things now very

Difficult; ask America

How they managed to legislate

Smut, in; throes of fevered electorate

 

Babel’s tower suffused gluttony

Supreme state bride who wears no lace

Hunts his prize with alacrity

Ignited hungry populace

Renowned for courting controversy

Of prospective incumbent, no trace

Obviously chasing biggest money

A shameful compromise, in disgrace

 

Horned head enthuses stupendous crowds

From university to mad house

Hurls and flings idiotic snippets

Trashed mind-blowingly elaborate

Slaughtered sheep, caught in thicket

Ran amok ‘mongst newly graduate

Promises induced, so prolific

Mrs Clinton had better get on it

 

Acorns At Rainbow’s End:

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Goodness knows, searched high and low

For tip of elusive rainbow

Not an iota’d sense, where

To begin and look

But scant remembrance, chapter nine

In that great book, without

Rebuke or promises out of line

 

Comes down through low-flying cloud

Mystifying glitter abounds, present

Time’s lucid dimension grounds

Nature’s coloured spectrum – Same way plant

Cultured seeds, conceive invention

Without fear or apprehension

Like an oak tree defines creation

 

Co-rehearsed molecular activity

Split implicitly, must – will always grow

Eventually; same way plant

However million centuries, ago; bio-cellular

Material designed molecular cell division

Like an oak tree defines creation

Without fear or apprehension

 

Within pleated folds of mine own

Heart – said I must start

To unwind Bow’s original story

Word covenant renowned, breathing

My own sound reflects spectral glory

Lo and behold!  Quickly found my

Pot of gold; end of faith’s allegory.

 

Questions To Everywhere:

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Tell me, who is going to say: what is

What was?  Or!  What is going to be

Where, what, when is where

Saw The Lion fly horizoned sky

Through terrestrial clouds. with host

To meet, him; came quality wrapped

External grace crowned abundant

Garlands, scripted way yore

 

Ancient beknowing yield salvation

Road, beyond belief spirit know

Host computes bearer, stroke vessel

Sweet rejoice bring joyful dedication

Given, and soul born in church actually

Lives perdition – how then worry death

Would have been much better, with respect

Then look back at telling glass houses

 

So this key unlocked well long

Before secrets; Word assumes essence

Life feeling full, heart and soul

Crowned glory no mean reward

Still you wont guess, to be certain

When angels speak through living

Makes flight quickest live thought

History is, but fleeting glances of

Incredibly concise liquid inevitability

Trailed blood in most mystic form

 

Burning Babylon:

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Those fools woke up to cultural revolution, things miraculously began to turn upside down.  Streetwise usurped elitist education – watching Roodbwoy wear innovation’s crown.  Time gradually exposed heinous police corruption, how; they pulled wool over Hillsborough’s passive generation – collaborated with government, to foil Scargill’s social insurrection; cruelly consigning ghettoes, to: poverty, prostitution and hungry-belly starvation.  History’s pages were tapered and shamefully soiled, with unforgettable lies as deceptive as a serpent’s pulsing coil.

Politics has become despicable procedure, abusing poetics with standard anathema.  It’s very easy to deceive an unlearned electorate, Brexit architects conceived falsehood, obviously deliberate.  They’ve licensed an obnoxiously rampant populace, foolishly incensed conscientiously biased confederates.  Europe is an unacceptable beast, backing British is the very least local communities expect.  At all cost wholesale migration must cease, now they treat Europeans with complete disrespect.

Things have really changed a wicked way, middle class goody-goodies have started slumming it when they venture out to play.  Certain fuddy-duddies are coming on very strong, taking delight in gutter language and sensationally doing things wrong.  Life isn’t what it used to be and, no!  It will never be what we expected to see; street etiquette has taken over, kids are tired of those – pretend we like it – plastic, papered schemes.  Now the youth eye-up one another – hard faced like sharpened granite – planning to count and store-up bundles of cash-crop green.

Look Roodbwoy!  Street-life’s gone viral; ghetto people populate Facebook, pushing-out vibes on structured instrumentals, slamming it right and creaming the hook.  This natural reaction took place, to balance society’s unfair odds; culture has assimilated race and cynically erected psychic colour-bar-pods, belligerently squeezing into our haloed space, critically waging media-sponsored war.  Those pretentious money-laden clods, secretly; smoke the wickedest Sensimillia and worship cocaine addicted earth-gods.

 

Poesy: the dirty little stop-out ..

Poesy failed to come home last night.  I tossed and turned until first light, waiting to hear that click – in the lock – and the clunk of the door-handle’s turn.  She’s been baiting acute fear, like the ticking of a distinctly evasive clock, convulsively aggravating a grievous tear in my unstable mind. Causing an unsympathetic bind, to make my heart burn.  Her syntactical vein has been abrasive and annoyingly haphazard, oh; the heartrending pain, so conducive to satisfying ambitious bards and, the literary output we crave and desire.

It was all I could do, to stop jealous pangs of my inconsolable thoughts; feverishly wielding my pen, to echoes of ‘I love you, I love you,’ as suspension hangs a tightening noose around my unenviable heart, foolishly shielding broken throes of dismissive, ‘I do, I dos.’  I mean, she oozed so fluently word perfect, completely in vogue with apparent, assimilated disinterest – so rhythmically in tune, her rejection – ultimately – declared so untimely, and soon.  I hated her for that fleeting, precise second when perturbed minds turn enviously green; instinctively berated her, on meeting her concise and fecund suitor, whose; superb rhymes were elaborately embellished, excessively adroit and very clean.

Summer’s Secret Twists:

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Summer’s smile beams visual flashes

Light streams invade bedrooms early

Judders and quakes locked eyelashes

Sounds emit dawn’s hurly-burly

 

High trade-in botanical retreats

Spread spectrum-threaded carpet bloom

Coloured bells ringing breath-taking feats

Lush green speculates nature’s loom

 

Cloud-veil lifts, unleashes bright sun

Gardens message pictorial reams

Flower beds burst titillating fun

Random bushes chatter spectral schemes

 

In such hurry to foil autumn’s gate

Bees swarm, sucking nectar-filled cup

Every stop, coolly procrastinate

Insect heaven coated with syrup

 

Cherry stained, rapier beaks seal

Migrant’s pact – as feathered returnee

Excited birds sing frenzied zeal

Luscious fruits hang seductively

 

Roses glistening dew drop tears

Refract emotion’s captured heart

Sullen insurgence – year, to year

Slowly pulling memories apart

 

This season affords frivolous love

External feelings thrust outdoors

Careless caution combine Cupid’s cove

Out of control adrenaline flows

 

Physical ardour quickly explodes

Naked lust bridles affection’s twist

Heat rises; times leisurely abodes

Adorn scant wear and cold-meat picnics

 

My Head Voices:

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The voices in my head seem progressively worse, more: loudly provocative and decidedly stark.  I know what people always say about anyone who hears voices.  Am I going mad?  I’ve tried very, very hard to remember when they actually started but, for some reason, I can’t recall anything for the life of me; keep drawing blanks.  The voices always startle me at first, cajoling and contemptuously reassuring but steadily becoming frenetic and, ultimately desperate.  Then there’s times when they seem to attack all at once.  Those times are the worst, in; the middle of lonely, un-nerving blackness – not seeing nothing – even with eyes wide open, sometimes.  I close my eyes when the voices start ricocheting around my brain, then the darkness regresses deeper and the attacks are more relentless.  To-day they are much, much louder, louder than ever in fact.  I close my eyes, pulling the lids so tight, inadvertently squeezing tears out of overladen ducts, making me feel as if I’m crying – and I’m definitely not, not today.  Going into pretentious sleep mode hasn’t helped, made the darkness more foreboding, frightening in fact.  Opening my eyes was a mistake.  I closed them back very quickly because the light is too intense, so intense I lift my left arm, to; shield them from excruciatingly painful light.  It was then I began to realize what the excited voice was saying, it was Ghislane and she’s shouting: “Mom!  Come quick!  Call the doctor, call the nurses!  He’s woken up, oh my God!  I don’t believe it, mom!  He’s woken up.”  She seems hysterical, and incredibly flustered.  My vision steadily clears, from a hazy blur and I begin to focus.  I immediately realize: I’m laid up in a hospital bed, all bandaged up.

 

Ghetto Roodbwoy:

 

Sweet ghetto life is somet’ing else

Yout’ wear flash clothes, plus jewel’ry

symbolise br’uk- pocket wealth

Top the tree – run t’ings neatly

Every day going gym

Exercise hard building muscle

Goldfinger mean always win

Any game – slightest tussle

 

When you pick-up-mic dancehall cork

Big!  Cause you juggle sensimillia

Wolf-whistling, flinging sweet talk

Always, lurking ‘pon corner

Lyric-spit inspirational

Some say  rule Hip-Hop

Police stalk Dads like criminal

From gambling house to betting shop

 

Chilled when them call Roodbwoy

Sport broad smile and wickedest grin

Pretty gyal pum-pum must destroy

‘Nuff a’ ‘dem say, ‘he’s good-looking.’

Would a’ better if you went school

Secure good education

In certain company just fool

Who carry bad reputation

 

Start push-out chest like badman

A’ swagger with heavy pocket

Pure disrespect for everyone

Swear-word fly mouth faster than rocket

Them say you have chip ‘pon shoulder

Trouser half-way down you batty

To make things worse you’re the wrong colour

Guaranteed notoriety ….

 

 

 

 

Living In Glass Houses:

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When jealousy and grudge riddles your heart, pain wracking through the pit of your stomach, thoughts go astray, as; bile develops into hatred.  The ‘slings and arrows’ of your bow are trained on innocent victims and, Satan devours your soul.

The Prophet:

Gad has always been with Us, he has been Our prophet since days of old.  Records confirm he ministered unto king David, as; the Holy Bible informs Us.  Legend has it: God’s (JAH) kingdom shall never be short of a king, nor a prophet.  ‘The Vibration’ told us in no uncertain terms and, ‘We’re All Going To Sing The Same Song ….’  You come in the name, of: Almighty, Omnipotent God; The Most High.  Why then would I deny you?  A man cannot call Father-Creator’s name falsely because he would invoke a lasting curse upon himself, so which man would be so self-deprecatingly stupid and foolish?  Therefore: any time you choose to, just call H.I.M name and my gate is immediately open … ‘Love-up, open JAH gate, and let me through!’

Don’t get me wrong, neither misconstrue this message, no; you are not to get things twisted.  I claim nothing and no place for myself.  JAH-JAH has granted me the privilege and blessing of Reuben; first born of Israel my father.  You cannot claim, or designate any thing for me, neither are you at liberty to tell me who I AM, THAT I AM from ages past who created Heaven and Earth, before making humankind in His own image.  So listen to me carefully: ‘Be still, earth!  Know ye, The Lord – He is Almighty, Omnipotent, The Most High God, who ruleth over all things.  Long live Gad, the prophet and; blessed be he who enlargeth Gad.

‘ … Israel called his twelve sons together, so he could tell them that which may befall them in the last days … ‘   Genesis , forty-nine … (49)…

They Prepare For War Whilst We Prepare To Meet Our God:

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Locust plagues fleece overburdened

land, leaving hide nor hare for no

One; violent eyes pitch prejudiced

Stare, proudly sat on Judgment’s chair

We’re consoled by eternal Word

‘A chosen remnant shall be saved.’

Hear ye!  From amongst Fate’s potsherd

Discarded midst Satan’s enclave

Mark high: lintels of your doorpost

Gather belongings in boxes

Blackstar Liners coming to coast

Confound sla’vry’s paradoxes

 

JAh-JAH prophet has arisen

Fyah’s sacred tongue turned to sword

Chant down Babylon racism

Children!  Stand up with one accord

They didn’t know the other half

Of a story, that’s not been told

Babe laid down, with cattle and calf

Silent wolves dwell in the sheepfold

One hundred and forty-four thousand

Shall stand upon God’s Holy Hill

Israel’s children redeemed Zion

“Babylon!  Swallow your bitter pill.”

Slumming It:

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Street-life’s quickly gone off the boil

Seriously malfunctioned, when hard

Drugs wrapped around sufferer’s coil

Poisoned brains soon melted, like lard

Sucked every penny out of

Social entertainment – didn’t

Leave any room for frivolous

Enjoyment; those stupendously

Energetic raves have gone, left

Horrendously apoplectic

Swathes of disillusioned fake smiles

Multi-coloured modes, uplifting

Shaded, happy dress-ware made life

Exciting; bristled with promise

Now look:  sad faces are wilting

Hopelessly disfigured; snappy

Fools who don’t care, sink low, fighting

Goaded spite arguing malice

Music was almost a religion

Gave us unpredictable rides

DJs chorused condescension

Sick tunes played – focussed attention

Frenetic uncontrollable vibes

Made life feel good, to be alive

 

The Beast From The East;

 

Racism’s alive and vey well

Those snakes keep it expertly hidden

So even the deepest scrutiny

Wont be able to tell

There’s an undercurrent of silent support

Kept studiously alive, with ingenious rapport

A recognized profile

Lily livered sneaks – striking knives in

Backs – using humour as deadly whiplash

The practice of unapologetic heathen

They have an arguable excuse

‘… taking our country back!’

But, it’s really, a: me, me, me, myself

Philosophy, orchestrating racist attacks

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