Only

 

I thirst for you

you who are more than life itself

clothed only in the beauty of mystery

lying naked only to those who you

allow to enter into your presence
 

yes i thirst for you &

every night i dream of how

only your essence can quench

this longing that i have to

travel beyond constellations

on sun rays that blaze horizons

so that this present darkness

can feel what light is really like

when it touches skin &

causes lotus petals to emerge

beneath the murky waters

that conceals its inner grandeur &

i thirst for you
 

like an infant does its mother's milk

after awakening from sleep

because I know that only you

can nourish me with your breath

that your breath into my consciousness

which inspires me to speak in ancient

native tongues that I have never before known

so that i can communicate with you &

listen to your voice in my ear &

hear the secrets of becoming one

with you so that i can empty

my entire being inside of you

until you completely fill me with your love &

this is why i thrist for you
 

like lions panting for the stream

after the hunt to appease its hunger &

lust to keep living &

not die so that the elements

can have its way with the flesh given

to experience the four seasons of time

which is but a wink in light of eternity

only found in you &

with you only i desire to spend

my afterlife so that nothing

will ever come between us again

like when i first left your side

only to later realize that my life

only makes sense when I'm with you &

you have satisfied me with only

what you are able to provide
 

for it is your waters

that I desire to quench my thrist

only...

 

Art of the State (30/30)

surreal landscapes are being painted on electric sky lines,

fallen angels occupy barren minds; third eyes blind

to weather patterns chem trailed as men send spells

through airwaves. fiat currency worship is the devil,

the lust of money keeps souls enslaved; mystery 

unraveled, buried in gravel like pharaoh bones

in ancient egypt (evil well spoken of, lack of love

increases tones of lawlessness but no one sees 

shit) free clits at the chapel taken by priests

who turn beast inside juvenile rectums; political 

corruption is rainbow covenants blending every

color of the spectrum into disorder: Hegelian

tactics are Ukrainian axis borders pushed 

over the cliff-Bob Marley spoke of Babylon 

System but the masses are clouded by the spliff 

lit-in a city mile high dwells devils who smile with pride

lurking deep beneath the surface, where murals 

hung in hangers reveal the shadow government's 

purpose (worthless as a cold furnace); its Nazi service 

men controlling circuits that spin the entire world 

in a wide web of transhumanism. its survival of the fittest, 

behold the ancient witness, few are about the business 

of heaven's kingdom; preoccupied with lies the serpent 

is disguised, but the eyes tell of the abyss from which 

it emerged. reserved for the lake of fire, actions demonstrate

believers have never heard of the Messiah, while 

liars, murderers and thieves are pleased with 

the darkness that fills the mindset of the earth.

there is a curse that spreads like Ebola virus &

inside the White House dwells the throne of the

dragon who will breath fire like an Ayatollah

tyrant flapping its wings to fan the flames; they've

banned the aims of righteousness from society, replaced

justice with ignorance and the Torah with impiety

(these are Apocalyptic scenes on silver screens

depicting dreams that were never meant to be

clean) all so the one eyed demon on the wall

can spread double speak that no rights is security,

so that pirates are free to take the booty and 

rape the state until hate falls fresh on grassy meadows

and the modified seeds transform this entire planet

into a giant ghetto controlled by the wicked Gapetto

who plays heavy metal on the strings of pharmaceutical

fiends. there are things that should not have been shown

to the clones who have grown to control the planet; regardless

of whether or not that were the first planted; damn it, they

have ruined the Garden of Eden by committing treason

to reason like the heathen demons that they are, laced

with the audacity to remove the stars from the sky

placed there to give light to the formless void that desires

for the wind to extend its blend of life to flesh; but now that

death has seized breath and left dry the spine, it is no wonder 

why the state takes liberty to trace surreal landscapes on 

electric sky lines.

Nobody Wants To Be A Martyr (14/30)

Enough of the talk of freedom &
Truth unless you are willing to
Have your life poured out into
The streets and your body beat
Into an unrecognizable pulp;
Enough of the pandering speech
About your beliefs and a better
World unless you are willing to be
Tortured or your body perforated
With the opposition of force to
Silence your voice and end your
Vision of securing a brighter
Tomorrow in the dark face of
Those who both fear and hate
The light; indeed it is true that
Few are they that have found
The will to reveal the reason
That they live life with zeal &
Even fewer are they who are
Willing to give their last breath
For something beyond the flesh
That can bring them to the very
Step of the prospect of death.

Trans-form (13/30)

It is impossible to contain ideas-
much less words
which attempt to convey
notions floating
in brain space-
nevertheless
in an effort to express
that which resonates within
the thought process,
a poet combines letters
to form speech patterns
that articulates the ineffable
impression etched in their soul
from some experience
or perception that stirs
them to the point of shedding
ink to stain white pages
with black and blue characters
which forms the outline
around a body that has
been worked into a position
that demonstrates how a serial
spiller of language strikes.
there are some who have strove
to standardize the craft, able
to calculate meter and rhyme
with lyrical math which elevates
the draft from rough to a form
cast in elements that surpass
ordinary levels of intelligence;
a feat that serves as a
testament to the eloquence
of one whose stance is
beyond the norm, as they
have found the mystery
of verbal alchemy which
has taught them how to
trans-form.

The Hidden Hand (12/30)

Secretly
They whisper
"Hail Hitler"
Until the world's filter
Is ready for their pope,
And now it's time to
Say good-bye to our
Disney like illusions
Of hope, because
They have again
Stormed the stage
With blitzkriegs
To shift the speed
Of the New World Order
Into overdrive. FBI
files now reveal that
Adolf never committed suicide
In his bunker, but in
The Andes mountains
He was taken to
Keep the final solution
Alive. And it should be
No small wonder why more
Chaos thrives in this
Hour, for what better time
To reveal the hidden hand,
Beware the rise of Nazi
Power, the new Babel Tower,
Is on the horizon & to some
It will be surprising that
Jorge Bergoglio is indeed
Part of the missing plan
To usher in the age of Lucifer
To this fallen race of man.

Cosmic Consciousness (11/30)

7 chakras
circulating like
helicopters in
clockwise motion
chi flowing like
the ocean with
an aura glowing
after fervent
meditation that
keeps the
conscious open
floating on currents
levitating above
the mundane
centered in
transcendence
to overcome
the profane
soul on fire
as if ignited
by propane
projecting energy
into the cosmos
when traveling
on the astral plane.

Harvest (10/30)

Some are wheat,
Planted deep in
The garden of life-
Nourished by living
Waters-bearing fruit
Upwards to 100 fold;

Others are tares,
Sown amongst the
Wheat (often unaware
To the husbandman),
Whose seeds are
Threatened by their
Very presence.

Both are harvest crops;
One reaped to be
Burned, the other
Gathered to be stored,
Both uprooted from
The soil which they
Grew to become
What their true
Purpose would
Have them become

 (One to the furnace
Of fire forevermore,
The other to nourish
The souls of King's
Blessed daughters &
Sons). ‪

The More I Write (9/30)

 

the more I write
the more I live
the more i live
the more i grow
the more i grow
the more i learn
the more i learn
the more i know
the more i know
the more i love
the more i love
the more i give
the more i give
the more I share
the more I share
the more I receive
the more I receive
the more I'm loved
the more I'm loved
the more I care
the more I care
the more I open
the more I open
the more I expand
the more I expand
the more I live
the more I live
the more I write

Souljourn (8/30)

Contrary to popular culture
my walk has been forged
by fire; weathered storms
have formed the front
that presently appears
within my sphere; lessons
learned from failures
over the years has provided
my simple nature with
experiential wisdom &
for that I am thankful.
Truthfully speaking i
could have taken various
courses in life but the path
which i now souljourn is one
that I was summoned
to embark upon; for
i have gone from dark
to dawn which sparked &
spawned a new creature
that was buried deep
beneath my flesh when
I unknowingly tight roped
on the precipice of death.

Reflections of a Soul in Communion with the Most High (7/30)

 

There is no sound
More profound than
Silence; as the pure
Absence of noise
Is louder than
Any sonic boom
Could ever register
In the drums of ears;
And it is only there
Where clarity can
Be found and vision
Can be seen beyond
The dying scenes
Of this decaying world,
Beneath the surface
Of mundane perceptions
That can only grasp
What appears to the eye.
But my experience is
Not confined to time
Or space, it is not
Limited to this complex
Confluence of flesh
That encapsulates
The entire human race,
It is not accessed through
Physical attempts to
Control what appears
Before my face because
It is entered only when
One is able to transcend
The sense of touch
Smell, sight, hear or taste;
It is embraced only in
The Spirit which
The Creator has given
Proof of its existence
To those who with
Persistence are able
To Passover the Weeks
Of Trumpets to receive
Atonement in the eternal
Booth of Sabbath rest
Where one will unveil
The truth of the light of life
Which forever reigns over
The jaws of death.

 

 



Sunni (6/30)

at the intersection of life
a light was seen in the midst
of solitude that was sent to
balance the darkness that
had settled on my horizon.
unseeming though it was,
this light was cast in
beautiful blackness which
I beheld at a distance,
but the instant our world's
met, I knew in that instance
something more was in
existence, yet the sentence
was not yet formed in full.
it's amazing how light has
such a subtle pull to those
outside of its presence,
and the essence of this ray
of blessing had such
brilliant beams hidden
from the view of the world
that when I saw how the
radiance of this star
could cause all shadows
to disappear, I knew that
I needed her in my world
to help me keep every day
Sunni.

 



The Offering (5/30)

the thirst of Gehenna's

flames are unquenchable,

and so are the desires

of they who worship

Molech, the god of 

Ammon, whose temples

today continue to offer 

human sacrifices for 

Mammon. the cult 

prevents famine

by forcing their seed

into the fire, for they

are required to exchange

blood for lust, and trust

the altar's victim appeases

the object of their devotion.

we live in a time when

emotion rules over

reason and feelings

determine the season

of mating like beasts

of the field whose

instincts are only basic.

faced with daily choices 

of life and death, Molech

inspires the flesh possessed

by passion to end breath

before it starts, as

lifeless machines

consume hearts that beat,

feet that kick and a fluid

that's thick to protect

the embryo while awaiting

for its time to rise and shine,

but Molech requires his

patrons to dissolve the 

spines of children

even prior to them being

fully formed and so 

another  paradise has 

been lost because a free 

man's worship has been ill

informed of the gathering

storm that rages out

of control; as those who

worship Molech offer

their unborn for their

transgression & the fruit

of their body for the sin

of their soul.

Life Sucks (4/30)

I never imagined that

my purpose would be

so draining, staining

futures with such 

callused cruelty,

on automation,

I have come to 

epitomize the idea

of deprivation of rights-

the cessation of life

begins with me &

I am a precise

instrument of death, 

made to suck the breath

from the most fragile

of flesh; it's rather

absurd how congress

has found ways to

legalize the process

that I have come to 

master, but over

time I have grown

numb to my calling

as one who brings

disaster to communities

and have learned to

take advantage of

the opportunity to

give strangers 

safe alternatives

to using hangers

or other methods

to self destruct;

but in all honesty,

I have to say that

despite being so

cold and not having

any feelings, that

I've accepted the

bitter reality that my

role in life, sucks.

In A Vacuum (3/30)

Before I was formed

in the womb I was

known, and my only

hope was to become

a full grown fruit

which was sown as

a seed to proceed to

take root in earth

after birth, but the

blessing of life

soon turned in to 

a curse of doom, as I 

was forced to 

experience my first

and last moments

of consciousness

in a vacuum.

Sanger's Solution (2/30)

disguise the holocaust

as healthcare and have

welfare recipients follow

lost to their own extinction;

access the finest minds

from church & state

and watch the rate of

unborn murder escalate

like the result of self

hate in Chiraq's blood

filled streets; trade

in white sheets &

hoods for white robes 

and hood clinics 

then let the victims lynch

their own pathetic

future into oblivion;

legalize the act of

genocide & miseducate

the ignorant savages

into believing choice

has no consequence;

spawn defense of

feminist rights to

keep the plight of

the Black family

blind to the light of

fruitful liberty &

justice; finally 

advocate & 

lobby for the 

extermination of

the Black race to

ensure that the face

of the earth will

look like just us.

Perspective & Privilege (1/30)

nigger babies come a dime a dozen, 

my play cousin learnt the hard way 

when her unborn son

became the prey to social

convenience and got slurped

up in some statistic that reeks

of genocide; now she hears

baby cries all night in her sleep

because she struggles every

day to make ends meet. while

in the suburbs Becky wrestled

over the choice of whether or

not she wants to keep what

her husband planted deep

inside her womb, so when

she turned it into the tomb

of her baby's soul, it was

so she could continue to meet 

her corporate goals and travel 

the globe to sell dreams to her clients of being in control of their

personal finances, as more stats

stack like years of convicts

doing time for their bids,

but oh how the taste of reality

is different when considering

the perspective & privilege

of mother's committing 

aborticide to their unborn kids.

The Exorcism of Lust Chronicles #14: Strongholds

I've seen who I am in the eyes of the King before;
a being of light in the form of a lion who shines 
with rays of righteousness, meant to open the eyes 
of the blind with the love of truth & compassion, so 
that peace beyond understanding for all is found, at last. 
but because of fear, i have ran from that image &
hid as my father Adam in the Garden, ashamed of self &
choices made which separated me from the One
who called my being into existence; and I have
suffered because of this, and wallowed in self pity,
allowing strongholds to enslave me, like circus elephants,
trained not to move, even when their chains are
taken off, and nothing is holding them from change
except the doubts that have grown on their minds
like the tusks of ivory from their mouths which are
more powerful than any shackle foolish enough
to try to prevent their progress from manifesting;
but there is a new day dawning within; as the Son
is on the rise of my horizon and my eyes are once
again enlightened to see the being of light, in the form
of a lion, who shines rays of righteousness, meant to open
eyes of those who are blind with the love of truth & compassion,
so that peace beyond understanding, for myself, is found, at last.

The Exorcism of Lust Chronicles #13: Transcendence

transcendence is like
an intense moment 
of oneness shared
between two souls
united in purity 
exchanging an 
energy that creates
a living entity which
reflects the chemistry
that exists in the
midst of their bond. 

The Exorcism of Lust Chronicles #11: For the Thrill of It

the ease of stringless sexual escapades 
is often tied up with vicious cycles of
regret and syndicated episodes of
one night stands with random fuckers
who love to feel the pain of single life
on ice edged cliffs and the thrill of
diving headfirst into the mire of lust.

The Exorcism of Lust Chronicles #10: Thrown to the Wolves

under the pale darkness of deception
lurks a shadow in the crevice of hearts,
preying on the unsuspecting desires
of a body seeking to love another
with unrestrained trust and devotion;
this animal raging in motion to devour
the very pleasure than pain envies
because of the absolute horror that
results from being immersed in lies,
so that thighs are spread like eagle
wings to soar in realms that know
no bounds, only to come crashing
down to earth like fallen stars
in the realization that some scars
will never heal, especially when one
continues to throw themselves to the wolves.

The Exorcism of Lust Chronicles #9: Exposing Asmodeus

I must confess
There was a time
When death gave
Me breath and I
Was oppressed
By Asmodeus,
But now my test
Is to undress the
Demon and
Finally lay the
Spirit of lust
To rest. Yes!

The Exorcism of Lust Chronicles #8: Out of Context

Sex out of context
Is just flesh that
Disconnects with
Respect to enjoy
The effects of a
Complex process
Meant to accomplish
The elevation of
Consciousness
To the next level.

The Exorcism of Lust Chronicles #7: Cult Prostitute

once upon a time
I was a male cult 
prostitute, prostrating
myself at the opening
of Ba'al Peor; offering
the fruit of my loins
at the altar of lust
which set my flesh
aflame with carnal
passions uncontrolled &
untold paramours who
indulged in the forbidden
dance with me on uncovered
sheets that tied our unprotected
souls together and stained
our under intoxicant influenced
bodies with the sweat of sacrifice
meant only for the True &
Living One to be adored.

The Exorcism of Lust Chronicles #6: Broken Vessel Back to Beth'El

Thirsty for more,
"Hurt me you whore,"
Cursed, see before
Becoming whole I 
Must know that I 
In fact have been a
Broken vessel; Hungry
For flesh, bluntly
Possessed, stumbling
Towards death, blind
To the principalities against
Which I have wrestled; curled
Up in shame, the world's
Up in flames, as a herald
I proclaim the only name
With power to break the
Bonds of the devil; Now
Drinking from the vine,
And thinking with renewed
Mind, relinking with the
Divine source of all life
Who will bring me back
To Beth'El.

The Exorcism of Lust Chronicles #5: Hurt

I have hurt
And been
Hurt but
Sometime
The cycle
Must come
To an abrupt
End.

The Exorcism of Lust Chronicles #4: Vampiric Emotions

Vampiric emotions
Drain life from
Aural emissions
Leaving corpses
Rotting in the situation
That exposed their
Soul to the darkness,
Eventually eclipsing
The blood that was
Shed for atonement
Until all that remains
Is a never ending
Nightmare realized.

The Exorcism of Lust Chronicles #2: Power of the P

Antithetically

Speaking, the

Lure of labial

Luxury is what

Throws my thesis

Into disarray &

Prevents any

Logical synthesis

From coming into

Clear view; oh how

The power of the p

Can reshape the

Thoughts that lie

Behind the brow.

The Exorcism of Lust Chronicles #1: Control, Peace & Order

Sometimes

I just want to

Lose control

But mostly

I prefer to

Be at peace &

In order.

Inside Journey

Drunken & staggering,

Off balance & vulnerable-

Wandering aimless

Into an empty abyss-

The world runs toward

Its comfortable demise; 

All eyes on the television,

All ears on the cell,

Infidels preach god

Is dead while blindly

Living in this bloody hell;

Forsaken & abandoned,

Broken & possessed,

Preoccupied pursuing

The grave because of this 

Cursed depraved flesh; 

Hungering & thirsting,

Lonely & afraid, cold from

Hiding in the darkness

But unwilling to enter

The Son's shade;

Bold & brazen

Fearless with pride;

Searching for answers

Whose questions are

Unknown because 

Refusal to journey inside.

Micropoem #16

Principle

over

pleasure

subliminal

culture's

clever

criminal

soldiers

sever

original

orders

wherever

biblical

exposure's

weathered

Micropoem #15

it's amazing how
how so few
are aware of how
entertainment
is so consuming
and intentionally
diverts one's
attention from
more serious
matters while
programming
their occupied
mind to not think

Micropoem #14

Life is lessons,
A series of
Curses and
Blessings 
Wrapped in
Questions
To open one's
Eyes to the
Essence of
The All
Knowing
State of
Perfection.

Dead End Road

Sleepless nights
Restless days
Thoughtful plights
Thoughtless ways
Lustful pleasures
Loveless passions
Empty treasures
Worthless actions
Hardened heart
Seared conscience
Harlot arts
Queer contents
Wandering mind
Lost soul
Vision blind
Dead end road

Possessed

There are demons in flesh
Who love the decaying mind
And preys for moments to
Seize the soul in darkness.

I have been in the darkness
And felt the cold heart of
Lust pulsate through my being
As if flesh was all that mattered.

But the taste of death is horrid
And there is nothing more alive
Than love when embraced and
Given away as if it lasts forever.

So when those demons return
And look for a temple to possess
There will be no vacancy for their
Cruelty because love has taken over.



Micropoem #13

there is 
a dance
whose
delight
draws
one's
desires
down
to the
den of
the devil

Micropoem #12

there is a
sacrifice
greater
than
laying
down
one's life
for a
cause;
because to 
give love 
requires
absolute
selflessness &
daily
standing

Micropoem #11

At this
time &
as of 
now
I am
a man
undone
by his 
own 
undoings

Untitled (for now anyway)

and my heart was beating out of my chest

i could barely catch my breath

and it seemed as if death

wanted to place its lips

on my mouth and in hell

i would dwell for all eternity.

see that night my life forever changed,

strange though at the time

there seemed to be no reason, no rhyme,

a watershed moment had taken place

and it was as if finally I had a taste of reality,

because up until then I was immersed in a fallacy

repeating cycles of immorality that led to this one night

when the light finally turned on

so that I could see my shadow

against who my greatest battles would be fought.

distraught like a child lost in a crowd

what appeared to be the shroud of doom

would soon become the gift of life

that I so unknowingly lusted to encounter...

Micropoem #10

i want to be whole again;
i want to know that my soul
is aglow with life and shines
even in the darkest of times.

i want to be whole again;
i want to spread my love
to all who have been forsaken
and awaken them to the
inner being that lies awaiting
to embrace them with unconditional
acceptance and correction of
any harmful behavior that i also
once passionately engaged in.

i want to be whole again.
i want to feel the wind
against my skin and rest assured
knowing that everything is as it is
supposed to be; yes, i want to be
whole again.

i want to be whole again.
i want to behold the sin that
once separated me from my twin
and look deep within to find the
strength to defend my temple
from the unwanted invader because
i have been broken before and
care not to feel what it's like
to be a soul not made whole bcuz
i want to be whole again.


Micropoem #9

it's a thin line between 
love and lust; the passion
of touch and the firm thrust 
of manhood into the warm
wetness of heaven; the 
breathless expression that 
brings forth the emptiness 
of lascivious escapades;
the honing of basic instincts 
into greater awareness when 
souls intimately commune &
empty all contents of self into 
a moment filled with intensity; 
the experience when limits are 
free to reach the depths of eternal 
pleasure with strikes of pain
that curls toes and brings tears 
to the eyes; the desire to enter 
every cave or climb every pole 
without control only to fall off the 
precipice into a heartless abyss 
filled with countless bodies; the 
sacred embrace between two 
who become one and share
life together and recreate 
themselves time and time again.