frOM mY aSHEs... a pOeT?

some individuals may find this next piece offensive, but the reality is... it can not be offensive enough. during the course of a conversation someone said, if the pope were weed he'd be the chronic. now... everyone who smokes knows that chronic is a term reserved for high quality weed, and using it as an analogy for the pope is just downright disrespectful... to good weed. since it is a well known fact that religion is a drug used to sedate the masses i could see the analogy of religion and drugs, but i would not equate it with a "nice buzz"... if u know what i mean... lol. some may want to get sentimental about john p's passing, but the fact of the matter is... like the rest of the catholic church, he basically turned his back on the atrocities being perpetuated by the church and it's priests. it is important we do not let our humanity whitewash the legacy of oppression and abuse that is the history of the church. This work is licensed under a Creative C

if the pope were weed... he'd… be a sterile male plant... who against his will was... pollinated by some... feminist bush... forced to... follow her lead... he'd... lose all sense of self and potency... he'd... get you there too fast... crash too hard... and generally allow you to say, "not tonight... i have a... headache", with no fear of it being a lie... cuz that's the nature of... bad weed... but even so... he'd... get you so fucking high on yourself... you… could sleep peacefully at night while... innocent virgins are... sacrificed on altars of... hypocrisy and deceit... no need... no need... for prozac... just turn your frock'in back and... close your ears... papal vatican weed covers all fears... leaving you in… in… in mental stupor... and... u got the vapors... shit! if the pope were weed i'd... burn all my bongs, and... write olu’ku's on all my... rice papers... like... abandoned buildings... like... c

nature reclaimed me as... one of her own, my... surroundings, my words... a reflection of her... nurture. i used to live in the city where... mankind... with their... mob mentality... has given trees concrete shoes... sending them to... sleep with the fishes in rivers and oceans... polluted by industrial waste... as we... race to consume... watching reality tv... was as simple as... looking out of my apartment window... where there is no... pg-13 or... parental guidance suggested... seems like... everyone has been recruited as the... new XXX... and life... is for mature audiences only... the children... have been left alone to... fend for themselves, thus... the good die young and... evil matures like... fine wine and... aged cheese... the funky smell? a dead and decaying society... a fermented mentality rapidly... rises... there is a... fungus among us! so i... switched to the... nature channel... i watch... sunrises over treetops... trees that stan

today the... trees were talking in... native tongues rooted in... stars gone nova... universes resurrected... from their ashes. their words ground me... celestially and... terrestrially... a wise man told me... "in the god'us we trust and... lust to create... after 'thee'... creation..." our love making... a phoenix friction fire... perishing in the flames of... desire... le petit mort... gives birth to a... higher "being"... come... together... fire... air... water and.... earth do mix... at the base of a mountain formed in... stillness... the energy of love brings heavenly bodies... to become... ALL... that matter... ALL... that truly matters... together and a.... new UnIverse begins gestation. rolling around milkyways... on UnI-[versal]-cycles... we turn the dharma wheel with a... nurturing hand... aint love grand! Radiant BE'IN! a personal practice of Right Livelihood by Olusanya Bey is licensed under a Cr

OM BHUR BHUVA SVAHA TAT SAVITUR VARENYAM BHARGO DEVASYA DI MAHI DHIYO YO NAH PRACHODAYAT OM yeah! i go... om... and om... and... om and... om... intimate conversations with the sun... at the... break of dawn... like... ultraviolet rays... her words... catalyze an... instantaneously gradual... enlightment... a full understanding... of a... multidimensional alignment... my... myriad selves... the fractures... of a broken heart... and mind... mend... the trance... ends... no more... ascends... or... descends... as... past... life... times... with her... flash before my eyes... placing this intellects perceptions... of this... life... time... in perspective... a door... to divine wisdom opens... traveling at the speed of thought... i... realize... the illusions of the... space-time continuum... the mental myth of... i cogito... ergo sum... how can there be... an i... and/or a... she... when... in fact... we... are one... see...i had to go... above and beyond.

i was watching the television with my daughter when i saw the newscast about Carla Brucia for the first time. my daughter is three years older than Carla, the news of this little girls abduction touched, disturbed me deeply. i felt her parents pain, i thought it strangely ironic that, at a time when society seems fascinated by reality tv and these shows continually receive high ratings, reality was taking place on a tv... and no one paid any attention... yeah... this life's blessing was taken from her parents, but it didn't rate our viewership until it had become another one of our sick societies tragedies. this poem is my "i'm mad as hell and i'm not going to take it anymore" statement about what we have allowed our so-called nation to become, our continuing failure to create a just society for our children, where we may nurture them and allow them to grow. we used to pass on family traditions and life skills to our children, now... they either... pass on

i’m that crazy bald-head… i’m that crazy bald-head… i’m that crazy bald-head… you can’t… chase out of… town. with my… shaved head… full of… twisted thoughts… i lock dread… in the hearts and minds of the… living dead… the ones called… mankind… those who… still buy into the myths of babylon… even as it… burns to the ground… while the babalawo sifts through the patterns of it’s ashes… to divine the… next movement in sound… your approach to each creative moment should be fresh… spirit open and in tune… with the ONE… HU is… All… as this… word is made flesh… and we separate the profane… from the profound… tap into the energy of your… true spiral g!… raise your kundalini… from it’s root… to it’s crown… the secret to why they dread i and i is… locked! … in a genetic code… that is... tightly wound… throughout this creation… and must be unbound… through meditation… and creative visualization… that is where the “essence” of the… “blackheart” man is found

the... thief of sleep suggested i spend... part of my nights in... meditation and prayer... instead of... sleep... then... during the day if i... make a wish i... might... but through the power of will i... may... dream... brand nu... bian realities that... awaken me to my... soul's ascension a... black sun rising... a... communicable... ease! of this... babylon and... babble on and on tension... shining light that... reflects in her eyes and... my spirit waxes poetic my... heart wanes, my... mind... wanders in vain so i... fly kites to... rendevous with... motherships as... astral planes drop... word bombs from... loose-lips... thought-seeking missiles... seek to explain the unseen as they... penetrate the... earthy crust of your... brain an... abstract rose that... grows in between the... cracks of concrete thought patterns... because whether it has been done once... or a million times... all brainwashing leaves a... stain... like... rings around... saturn

[photograph - Thandiswa Mazwai] it is afrikan house music that touches her spirit… and moves her body… it is her body that… speaks to me in ancient tongues… without words… yet full of meaning… my muse… she dances to the rhythm of the universe… she steps… with a graceful equilibrium that transcends the polarities of creativity… merging... darkness and light… bridging the gap caused by the separation of black and white… she stands between two worlds.. and binds them with the strength of her spirit… giving courage to the ones who still fear the freedom of… oneness. she inspires me… putting words in my mouth… nourishing my poetic destiny… sometimes white people are just people… were the words she said to me… yeah! and sometimes black people are just… people too… but what do these words mean… in a world where… so many people… have forgotten… what it means to be human… conditioned by clichés like… this is a dog eat dog world… our humanity has taken a backseat… and the anima

staring at her image with… 3 eyes… i... trace the arch of her eyebrow... to the... queen's chamber of a... pyramid... before the... worship of the moon... was... eclipsed by the... sun of man. as... brown eyes became... black holes... absorbing the light... of me... into the... night of... SHE... once again... to experience… spirituality... before... the advent of... religion... and... man-made dogma. hidden passages… were revealed… doorways to new dimensions… with stars … serving as… peepholes… so we could… watch a UnIverse unfold… expanding… reaching… towards each… other? two bodies? in denial of… all physical laws we… swim… in the… nile of… cosmic waves… occupying the same space and… time… our love’s ocean… is… drawn up… by the… sun and… moon… then… succumbs to the… gravity of this… moment in… mind… collapsing… upon the surface of each other’s… atmosphere… where… planets are… penetrated to their core… slipping into darkness… seeds of a…

the sleeping butterfly dreamed… that it was a man… the sleeping man… dreamed he was a poet… the sleeping poet… inspired by his ancestors in matters of spirit… consciously dreamed a… new world into view… awake and asleep… merged into one state of awareness… where… she! Reigned supreme… sovereign ruler of the… heavens… and his heart… see… life is a cycle of 360 degrees… when the circle of dreams was complete… the butterfly awoke to realize… it was just a man… dreaming about his love for a woman. now… fully aware and… mindful of her… I cannot… tell you my name… were you to ask me what it is… I would have to reply with hers… I have become so overwhelmed with the spirit of… her being her… I have… ceased… being… me… for so long I have… dreamed of… losing myself in the presence of another… suddenly… she has become my… only reality… I would think that I had gone insane… were it not for the fact… that the spirits of my ancestors… had previously prepared me… for her arrival

watching… the rhythm of this woman’s… stride… it… carries me away… her… smooth glide… the gentle sway of… her hips… they… take me on trips… that... transcend time… so far beyond space… i must… literally go… “ out ”… of my mind… just to find a place… to“ begin ” (if need be i will… “ beg ” to get… “ in ”)… her grace… to become more … aware of her… temporarily speechless… i… stare at her. make no mistake… this is not a… lust thing… it is a trust… that she can bring… us… to the... pinnacles…of this... penta-sensational creation… she is my… mother nature… nurturing... nations and civilizations… within her womb… were it necessary… i would raze whole forests… just to make room… for her… rhythmic passages through… time… in every strand of her locks… i see... interlocked… thousands of ancestral souls… that have been rocked… by the massive and… inhumane crimes… of… humanoid individuals possessed by... animalistic minds… i must protect her… as if she were an... endangered s

i want to say... no... i... need to say... thank you... to her... for this... “peace”... of poetry. immaculately conceived by her... spirit of femininity... given birth to... by... me. as she... innocently asked a question. how do you write your poems? one moment of thought was all it took. just as the sun at dawn... lights the horizon... i... looked... in her eyes and... the light i saw within them... burned her image into my brain... and these words upon my soul. the spirit of creativity... that... universal experience of love... took... total control. see... i never claim to write... poetry. i hold the pen... while the author of all creation... dictates... to me... then, i begin to write things like... when... ever i see her sweet... baby... smile... i get such a rush of energy... that if... love were a marathon... i would run an... extra mile... and still set the record time. i write... because i am inspired... by the beautiful creation... that is... this...

Hardware [ Milestone Comics ] stranded... stranded on the toilet bowl... what do u do... when u have no role? no role... to wipe that... shit stain... off your brain... cuz the thoughts u digest... maintain... the... waste products of... feeding upon...the lifeless... remains... of a... dead... society. i have come to... flush your... mind... like a... high... colonic. i cleanse the tracts of your... brain... with... radiant... mental waves... speaking... in the first... per... sonic... vibration. word sound is power... causing... peristaltic movement... in the bowels of your... intellect... purifying the... state of your mind... and... elevating your spiritual station. creating... ritual in the minds of everyone. partners in crime... in this... un-stickup... of your... state of... stuck-up... too many... swollen egos with... seriously impacted... mental constipation. So... in.. keeping... our mind... focused... on the universal mind... that gave birth to.

i have a couple more anti-slam pieces to share, but first... let me take a moment to look into her eyes. there's poetry in the eyes of everyone... especially a beautiful woman who is open to the spirit of the god'us within her. [photograph courtesy of Denise Harris ] she... didn't believe me when i told her... i saw a poem in her eyes... that upon the opening of their two... lids... i see a... sun and a... moon rise... or... how her lovely eye... lashes are... long... soft... gossamer ties that... bind my... soul and mind to her... "being"... causing hold and cold... flashes. flashes of... love's light... temporarily freeing... thousands of... lovelorn butterflies... from emotional cocoons. moved by the presence of her... spirit.. she is one who gives measure... to my... soul swoons. she blinks... my stomach flutters... i feel my heart... quiver. her eyes open my... body temperature rises... they close.. my soul shivers. are u surprised b

during the summer of 2001 i went to seattle washington with three poets from connecticut to participate in the national poetry slams. overall it was a beautiful experience, but i realized that... like jazz and hip hop... spoken word is in grave danger of a "corporate takeover". see there's a fine line between performance art and... step'an fetch'it... between... informing the masses and... entertaining the massa's. i began my... slam rebellion, started writing anti-slam poetry... ha ha ha. this was my first, it was written in seattle on the day before we left to come home. from connecticut to seattle i have traveled… asking myself… did i have to journey from the east… to the west… just to return to the home i had.. never left… to my sacred garden of once forgotten dreams… where... the illusions forms are scattered… like... wind blown dust… and reality… is... xactly! what? …it seems! where the words of poets reflect their creator’s spirit… where

[photograph courtesy of Denise Harris] last night i dreamed… that i… tapped into my… feminine side… and i... woke up… pregnant… with possibilities… and sincere proposals… of my love for u. this was the "be" side… to a dream i had the night before… wherein… as i meditated upon the nature of the universe… it… fashioned itself… into the form of a woman… and i… made love to her… during which… yeah!… i felt the earth move… as… stars winked! … in and… out of existence… with each… up and… down… stroke… while i rode… upon the wavelike energy… of this cosmic womb… i felt my… ego… lose itself… in her essence… while still thinking… i was… just a man… i said… "say my name…woman… yeah!… say my name"... every cell of my… "being"… resonating with the voice… of this creative energy… cried out in unison… "jah… allah… jehovah… krishna… jesus… kuan yin… yemoja… auset… mawu… u see? i and u… it was the fire… of our desire… that gave birth to the… sun… of man… and