Found some motivation to try a new sketch application. Power Couples.
Life’s lessons got this thinking man operating on a new plan,
…in this troubled life.
Free of the deceit, disappointment and the strife
An inherent and fresh understanding, honoring the Queen Mother,
‘Cause she’s nurturing the bubbling brown faces of her oft-spring
Brought clarity to my view. A lesson in hue.
Oh, how I wish my lessons could reverse the hour,
The times of pain and burning and searing individual prowess,
But here comes the rain. The ONE true FEMININE.
Her gaze and soft voice blessing the beautiful babies
With that old time religion of drum and story and repeat and ancestor and abundance.
Abundance through role playing with the Warrior Class.
Deep moans and the babies bore witness to physical existence.
The sky breaks and blessings abound the earth in search of survival.
Survival of the empire, from the state of righteousness and necessity.
Look upon that Queen…
…with the stubborn wool crown jewel.
Possessing the burning spear of change and vibration.
Where did you come from?
Now my soul runs deep and wild.
I love your stance and style as you calmly strut.
If only I knew then what I know now.
But time for the rebirth, expressing my new learned lessons in rhythm and verse.
Stepping out of the hidden dark days of fear and death.
The Queen Mother shows the way.
Her likeness to a land defined by the divine.
A sun soaked presence preparing for the self-inflicted 60 year drought.
Until the day comes when man is born.
I want to hate you, but would rather impregnate you,
With a gift from the most high, so must I deal with you.
In the moment of lust, loving and leaving you basking in dust.
Weathered storms to meet and greet with you.
Love let me lose my hope, pain – vetting and strain
The time has passed and I’m free from the bondage of you and me,
But lost in this wild style and I yearn for your eyes now.
The only truth I can understand.
So readily I grip the ground, holding fast to dreams of bliss.
And yet allowing stress and intervention to persist.
Fighting for richness and righteous with balled fist.
Wrong times, crooked lines, withstanding the onslaught of deceit you bring,
The leveled lies you embrace, the ignorance I despise.
Falling short and crossed lines, burning splinters of joy,
‘Cause you needed reproach, rebuke and repent.
Distracted, twisting religion – secretly wishing for devils to chase you.
I had to make sense of you in some way.
Sad and I miss the good old days.
(Wish I could return to the hybrid spirit supreme).
Hoping for dreams of clean and pure.
I’m a mind twister and you’re so insecure.
I once dug and dived but had to see the massive release of pseudo culture struck down with bribery.
Struck down by moments of you learning to live without me.
(Wish we could’ve been more patient).
Destruction seems to be our theme, perhaps a dream.
But the lessons smack you each time and you lose a piece of your soul.
I become hardened by yet another painful past manifested through the checkered path.
Simply do the math and watch your equation fade south, in and out, dropped, repeat, pleasure, desertion, wishing, writing, proclaiming, complaining, when all you had to do was stop. And stand still. Listen. Heal. Repeat.. Rise. Oh Goddess RISE!!
Lift your head, the crown keeps sliding to the side.
What a journey we shared. Asante. Salaam.