Duality

 

 

Fighting the evil within me

I see the devil in my actions

An angel’s wings torn apart by ghouls

Walking round trip in this hell

This world, this rough plains

My vision of heaven perturbed

Always disturbed,

I am drenched in lust

Oozing malice without regret

Forget all the white glory

My eye has been blurry with red wine

The water long gone

Forgot the party never stopped

A never ending celebration

Sinners coming together on Sunday

In church, demons wearing gold

Woke up cos I slept through death

Baptized yet I arose in Babylon’s grip

 

The angels sing my name

I hear them

Far away somewhere, where my innocence escaped to

Beyond clouds, black and blue

Skin, eyes, color, taste

Blood, lineage, memories

Stars mixed with orbital sacrifices

 

Yes, I fight

Then I win

In my mind first

Then, third, my sight

Chorus, victorious revving

White fleeced sheep in a rotten herd

Stained but cleaned

Rinsed by salvation

Dusted away clouts from lungs

Green breeze,

Morning dew, healing

One that bridges

man and the spirit world

the sun, some call him

Drinking more water

Washed away the wine taste

Now I seek comfort

within the scriptures of flawless history

Survival comprised in red letters

In bold, Yeshua

White Nazarene, black glory

Dark Muhammed, golden cotton

Her, him

Don’t matter

Because in faith

I am restored

 

…..selling false hope for lavender dreams

 

I summoned to be free of darkness

Only to find the world had burnt to the ground

Nothing left to grasp

Ashes and white glistening bones

Black rivers and religion

Pressed down shaken

My heart remain unmoved

In this false reality

Created by another man just like me

Forsaking deities only for clay

My soul reaches for the potter

Every time I need water

for my skin,

Brown sand on blue hue

Simple World: dream, dream on

Wonderful plays, it seems. Slowly the tides shifts gears, with the pedal revved, the acquired sense of direction attains a new set of waves. Like a pair of new shoes, the delusion of enchantment smells too sweet at first. Only when you see the decays of the sole then, and only then you can boldly say “thou feet are worn out.”

The louder it gets, the smoother the lullabies get. The high pitched voice from the folk-place is always under the buses. Must water fall from the sky? When the land bears bountiful fruit. In the need for cheeks and checks, the kiss smears longer till the bite on the neck becomes apparent.

A striking resemblance you see on the wide world screen. It gets madder by each channel or Chanel. It grows wilder by the sound of the speaker; less reality, more distortion. The fetish of the street-grain-rodeo brings the compendium of highlighted thirst to a new low.

The steps of the queen drags a little too long. The stare she receives adds a year or two to the tale of the Sheeba and a mere man. So strong, yet her kiss settles easily on mouth. The want breaks loose setting another yearn for lust. Such and such, the silk dissipates and all that was hidden bears front in the room of embrace. The pain hints at a later time, but the Queen continues to hold her spell. The mirror says all, she reigns supreme. At day, her face. In night her cries.

Another maybe. Pass away smiles; dreaming on till laughter from the face of the passer-by rings into mind. The workout to bring sane goes south and sends messages to the unknown up north.

 

Light of the Land

What is heaven to you?

When you close your eyes?

What do you see?

I see peace in colors

I feel the breeze

I know God is speaking

Like the old Gold Coast

Nomads settled

In tribal beads

Future unknown

Yet praises touching the sky

Underneath, earth awakened early

Far from carnality

Technology in trees and birds

The sun telling time

Huts forming circle

Fire only a tool

Seeds sowing

Children harvesting

A heaven always close to my heart