Statement

Here we go again, back into the circus, back to the cycle, back to where everything begins to fall out of consciousness, picture a hallway with a crooked concrete step that you step on every time you step by, trip and fall just because of one dented tip on the hallway, fall on your chest and bust your lip, feel the pain as it circulates up your nerve pathway, travelling up the spinal nerves wreaking havoc causes pain signals to fire, yes, we've all felt it, but this isn't that, picture that pain but in a more spiritual way, picture that pain, as it strips you of consciousness, dims the light so you can't see right, now picture that pain everyday, suffering so deep that it cuts through your fragile fabric called reality and enters your dreams, thats why you can't sleep at night, am I right, all them voices you battling, the truth is the only material worth unravelling, like a treasure chest which I treasure the among all the rest, the book of wisdom is bastered by the system, so I sit and contemplate, figuring out how to steal time and distribute it to the mass public, cos nobody has enough of it, always running and chasing the invisible dream, that everybody has so easily believed, darkness following the bereaved, exile is only for me, to know poverty, one must be in poverty, exodus from poverty lies in money, to escape poverty one must discover the true meaning of poverty, restate, exodus from poverty is knowledge, the only state worth obtaining,

Blinding truth

In the room with the lights off, the corner, the dark matter, one light bulb in the room, no flicker, just died yesterday, in the room with the lights off, with the demons of my own concoction, thoughts like the train, passing by, bringing their pain, attachment, detachment, the philosophy, still can't get it, they say wrath comes gift wrapped with the ribbons and strings, covered with pretty things, witty things, thats how they get you, the senses becomes dented, rear ended, but you stay with it, like a prince and a fiddle, drowning at such a shallow puddle, sleeping with the mud, blowing collie buds just to escape the ego centric place, finding fidelity in land where people place pleasure on a pedestal, where our senses are like mad horses, the body is the frame of the carriage,  the intelligence is the driver, falling down the deep well, where fake make up and half naked bodies dwell, with souls that have let go of the horses reins and let their senses direct everything, with no control, the intellect shrinks, no wonder we have bastard baby kids with miscarriages among other things, politicians getting their thing on in the stalls where the public pees on, fathers with no history of fathers blindly fathering our new generations, mothers with no conscience, they stay heartless, skirtless and brainless, in the midst of the dark, like Bob marley said, the darkness has to amount to the lights, so stay alive

Girl at the library

Will I ever find her, alone in the library looking for knowledge in some books and things, a moment as the stranger glances over my shoulder, dark rimmed glasses, full locks of hair, should I speak to her, I dare, she walks with music, like a beat with some snares, feel a thumping base when she turns her face, and I turn red, what about all the books of knowledge I read, instead, I fall back into the realm of myself, where I am the commander and she is nothing but a spec of dust floating in the pool of lust, but still attracted, I try hard not to expose it, just keep it cool and everything will be alright, don't fight, feel the stillness inside, walking up to her slowly with pride, flash a smile,
Me: hey nice to meet you, I got a sweet tooth, and you look like a good... nah just playing, what you saying?
She: nothing, just roaming around gazing, looking for some good books to keep me preoccupied
I stand mystified, kept my breath in  and held my pride... she looks like she has the brains and looks, she is into books, nice, sweet
Me: How would you like to meet down the hallway for some treats, just simply you and me, discovering poetry, arguing about philosophy, while we discus the meaning of entropy, caught in the candid moments, my eyes are like bouys drifting from her chest, down to her thighs, skirt at knee-height, summer blouse kinda see-through, looking at her eyes but still trying to peep through, trying not to be a creep, just keep the questions coming, exercise, keep her talking,
She: How about you, what are you into?
Me: besides you, I'm into yoga and the tantric arts
She: Yoga!, I love it, I love how you are open with it, you seem real, no gimmicks
Me: hmm, I love where this is going, so I'll keep up with the smooth approaches, first class conversations no coaches..
Then this man approaches,
Man: Honey its time to go pick up the kids..
My eyes bulge open, damn this girl got me open, played like a fool, a stool pigeon, damn her smile was misleading,
She: Thanks for the good conversation, Ill see you later :)
Man: who was that? nothing just a bystander, just a stranger
A shadow of her remaining, as she and her man leaving the library, the library

Morning thoughts

My emotions are like a waterfall, and like water, spilling and flowing down the creeks, silent as I speak, just letting the wind caress my heart, wrapped up like a gift, I think not, nah, never falling down the isle, or maybe I am just in denial, testifying against God, pleading guilty for the lustful trial, flowing like the nile, thoughts and images flow like a stream of consciousness, no stopping, just typing until the next idea comes knocking, and before the thought hits the screen, before the idea lands from the cosmos stimulating my pineal gland, don't know where the next phrase lands, just a memory, a discrete symphony playing to my ears, everyday temptations, one idea forms out of nothing, then the words are placed together like coins attracted to a magnet, just letting it run out of the dark maze, the scenic gaze, eyes starring at the outside world, but inside, focused on a single lotus flower