Monday, 25 April 2016

NaPoWriMo Day 25: Watchu Know About My Lemonade..

Did you run out of color when you were painting me?
I want to be coloured in shades of black and white
I've always wanted to be a black unicorn dipped in white
So I can talk about how a black suit can stain a white tie.

I tried killing the Yin inside while escaping the Yang
The women inside of me are tired
As we evolve I realised that the more we exchange clothes the more we exchange each other's skeletons
I heard it is common courtesy to let the skeletons in your closet out at least once a year so they can see how lucky they are that they aren't living.

I want to bleed ink instead of blood
I want to write about the monotone of idiosyncrasy, With a hint of euphemism
I don't know how give truth a voice,
I give it words.
I've realised that all mortal sins are one size better fit all.
And that humans do not like reading about themselves.

Sunday, 24 April 2016

NaPoWriMo Day 24: 0 to a 100 real quick


Now you know a gangster a grown man,
And in these parts I try and stand from a distance.
Remember when I stood from a distance?
Yeah?
Well, I am walking now, accelerating on a path where you and I sharing smiles does not look familiar anymore.
Where "You and I" seems to be buried in grey blur.
Where I will dye my hair grey just to blur your existence from my sight anymore.

Man, tears would look so attractive with a frown on your face right about now.
If anything I would never accuse myself of being the easiest person but
I could go on about how worthy of an "admissory" I tried to be to Ye.
Unworthy lies the one who wears the crown made of snakes thought to be thorns.

You thought it was the sun didn’t you?
Baby, fuck around and get shot real quick
Remember when you thought it was the sun?

And now I have your unknown last name that lacks definition knocking on my front door
Felicia,
You really thought it was the fucking sun didn't you?

Saturday, 23 April 2016

NaPoWriMo Day 23: Bwoy, Yo Anxiety Better Shuddup!

I started seeing smiles upside down,
I only knew the Oxford definition of what a home was
It pushed into every corner of my existence.
I have since moved from one black dog whisperer to the other.

Sometimes you don't want to see the light if the tunnel is dark and big enough for your kind of spoken secrecy because Everyone Else's eyes just starts looking like a 'life sentence without parole',
It felt as though there was a big wall between myself and any life over yonder.

For a long time I didn’t trust that it would last. But something had changed deep down. I believed in myself again, and the inner conviction of worthlessness disappeared. I became worthy and this time I too was aware.

Friday, 22 April 2016

NaPoWriMo Day 22: 11 Something

Your ''Beam Bang'' has ensured a universality,
I've seen you outside my window for 20 years, through the curtains you called onto us.
Busy, unruly old fool.

We were compelled to be acquainted ever since genesis.
You allowed us to run away from the espionage watch-ma-call-its we brought about in the dark.
Paraphernalia ain't it?

You taught my shadow how to follow me
Lucie helps his own and you were his best friend.
So undaunted, black as ebony.

You always looked like you were about to throw up whenever you saw the moon
You feared radiating on halos like her

Some vague shit if you ask me,
Either way I shall wait for you in the 'morrow' buddy.

Thursday, 21 April 2016

NaPoWriMo Day 21: Get Off My Yayo, darling.

Blackened seas, front porch blues, dead cradle of faith,
I am the Novocaine that traps the human in the prison of his own ego

These mortals have played victim from my intoxication for too long,
Over the past millenniums and time continuums I have possessed a kind of paradise for man, 
A paradise, so, psychedelic.

I allow no rescue,
My hand upon your chin.

No rescue,
As I dab this yayo along your lips.

Yet, no rescue
Remember your father said i was just a myth?
I give a faint touch that can graze your skin,
but I will clot your blood and fuck you up real good.

Render my resistance, useless. . .

Wednesday, 20 April 2016

NaPoWriMo Day 20: The Kennings 2.0

Jah's lamp has a certain sunshine
a certain sunshine that showed me that I missed the train that I left my sanity on.
Walking Naysayers normally don't know that kind of antidote.

My sanity has been seen wondering in a realm of lobsters
you know, the land filled with sea noise?
Where we sight the birth of water?
The train left with my sanity
I would tell you that I miss you, But I long for my brain bearer more.



Tuesday, 19 April 2016

NaPoWriMo Day 19: Art, where art thou?

I became a walking exhibition with pictures as imagination
I let paintings view my soul so they can tell me whether I have enough colour on my insides
I became art
but,
I have empty museums in my hallways.

Monday, 18 April 2016

NaPoWriMo Day 18: Sounds like Home?

We never got back home,
You know, the surrounding that held my innocence and saw beneath the person I wanted to be
Haunted by familiar ghosts similar to the spirit of the person I could have become.
To envision it was a picture
To have known of it, an intemperance
   
A few feelings ago, i lost touch with it and built one inside myself,
The ceiling was sobby with scars
The wall was cracked with wounds
The electricity went out due to fear
And the door, I had no door

I convinced myself that all humans had a built-in "Home" button
I have contemplated whether to click it
What if I click it and it doesn't work,
What if we never get back home?


                  

Sunday, 17 April 2016

NaPoWriMo Day 17: Ni-uh-bin-gee

Have you ever thought about the language You cry in?
I weep in Nyabinghi codes
The code that helps me maintain the natural connection with my maternal origin, the earth.

Soon the rebirth of Nyabinghi's promise  will be born again.
The Amazon queen would rise again somewhere, somehow amongst or within the children of Africa.

Saturday, 16 April 2016

NaPoWriMo Day 16: Don't read the Almanac

The weather here is bipolar, with tears tattooed on inner cumulonimbus clouds.
Maybe your tears will make the flowers grow one day, just not today.
They say the arch of these textures should be words.
The only words my custom prays to is the birth of Heitsi-Eibeb's promise
The creatures of the Suk of Mount Elgon are unafraid to make us mourn on the next new moon, they suffer from human eye contact.

As a child you will learn that the bleached truth is, love can never cover up bullet holes.
Holes found on the street side's roadside aging recklessly
Exporting sunshine and the art stories of the 'Honey and the bees'
The only art I see is the key of the Nile, paint a crux ansata on me so we can be a Male triad and a female unit, lover.
Love found in an Opposite-sex lover

It's a conspiracy,
There are no homes in these towns only houses, so we try not to make memories.
Memories with notable persona non gratas so you can
scrap that from your letter
While walking me three minutes down the alley without fear.
I only fear the destruction of your beauty.