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11.12.2010

SEEKING SOLACE: PEACE IN THE MIDST OF WAR



I find myself sometimes only seeking solace.
With understanding s of my novice skills, the plan is to orchestrate deals so that I may make something real out of these dreams that many call illusions.  
See it, believe it achieve it! Seemingly, at times I find myself caught in the machine that some call life.
I have found no other choice but to love but sometimes it is an emotional roller coaster!  
But what a ride.  

I love this life thing.
and as my heart continues to sing and my mind continues to harmonize, I love to do the same.   
I know there’s more to me like there are more cities to Tennessee.  
Like there are more mixers for Hennessy,
And I can and will grin at me while standing in the mirror facing my own symmetric chemistry.  Challenging the inner me.  
Not again asking God to enter me because I know now that God lives in me….this has become my radiation of energy…splendidly….
But I still ask,  “Who am I ?” “And who do i choose to be?”  

And who me in the midst of denial phases when you question the I?
If I go nowhere at all, I am still are somewhere. I am now here.  
So if now I am here and here I am now, then now I are prepared!  
Of course I am.  Indeed the world spins and soars at the same time.
Not coming down, but only moving through cycles.
Cycling while ciphering, while caring for and sharing more than our small human minds could ever imagine.  

Imagine, Stalin masks draped over male slave craniums while working their way up a corporate ladder.  
While women and children climb behind them feeling the torture of loosened bladders….
At time I unleash the matter of the mind to expand time…
I climb, they climb,  we climb…..so please move your digits from being stepped on….
Because those climbing up the corporate ladder are trying to move digits while being stepped on
Stepping on those under them while conversing on brand new cellphones…..
Climbing to Heaven……Finding a heaven…grinding the lessons….where timing is every...thang…

But the punch clock promise seems Amish….
Mixed with a clasp of Catholic….Unsuccessfully, I tried to master the art of spoken word….
AKA written verbal heard and only realized that I had already mastered it…..
so now it just lives thru me and on the walls of willing listening hearts I  delicately scribble this literary art With crayons  plastering and remolding art……on hearts….
Thrown darts that touch like acupuncture pins,
This passion packs a grin while stepping into so-called sin and making it a long lost friend…
Time mends and trends grow only to die, only be re-birthed…

Mother Earth and Daughter Nature hurt….due to environmental prostitution and the gluttonous and Believed illusion of five-fingered greed being forced under their skirts…….
They both tried to yell rape in the form of earthquakes…domestic violence moved tectonic plates….
While the gale force tsunamis of harassment take down walls and the horrid hurricane water of poverty. Turn humans from the poor, who had a chance, into the poverty-stricken  to martyrs….
Sorrow it seems, is sprinkled on tomorrows dreams…

The small amounts of people who live the loving moments push those beliefs into tomorrows scenes….
While those who knowingly invest other things invest in tomorrows screams….
Whether it is the rich with a plan for the poor or the poor with a plan to get rich.
The game switches sides …Catch the glitch.... if the rich have a plan for the poor?  
Wouldn’t it only make sense that the poor would have a plan for the rich?
But the poor only plan to get rich?  Hmmm…makes me think a little bit…

See, it takes two to tango and one person can two step alone but the right foot needs the left foot for balance. Why would it attempt that balance through attempting to strut alone?  
That’s like man with no woman….…..
unknowingly, to the naked third eye, the alledgely poor un-knowledgeable  novice seeks solace while attempting to master masters. Conquer conquerors. Enrich the rich and pour into the poor.
Only for all of them to decided whether their glass is half empty or half full…....

Should they question it or experience it’s essence?
Does the essence lack essence due to how much essence in the glass?
In essence the real lesson what?  
A teacher must learn how to teach, therefore they must first be a student…..
A warrior must learn how to kill to preserve life.   
A poet and MC must learn how to read before they write and learn to write before they speak.
A child must learn  how to extend their arms in order to learn how to reach…….
And the freedom must first be dumb in order to be free……
And seemingly we must learn how to war just to maintain peac
e.

11.11.2010

SIR STEVE FOX x CURTIS MAYFIELD'S "AIN'T NO LOVE LOST"

Thought it was best to share!  A friend named Kelley Davis asked me to write a piece for her about her about a specific subject.  This is what I came up with on the spot and now I've decided to make it a part of a new project.  Thank you Kelley for pulling such a wholesome poetry piece from my soul!  One Love!