Near Death


Politics of thugs, groupies slangin’ facin’ black books but tweeter/

I never sprayed libation for my foes on street with metal boulders/

But, am an infidel wordsmith – easy orgasm of a painter/

I was born with forever crush on barbed metaphors/

Life stories, so my mega affinity for gated wombs is severe

This jealous envy of slaying god’s flesh bury heads inside hoods/

And if guilt frames lined me for death row,

I’m imprisonin’ blasphemy architecture on my soulful deport/

Sub-ways to my last bed slash cadaver corridors/

Fermentin’ roses scar my autopsy bags,

Grim foul,

when am smellin’ big bang like an incest affair with illegal leaves.

Strangling earth-ware’s thirst choking,

begging to claim retirement benefits

Conspiracists’ pun, illegal poetry plant weeded off industrial holocaust

A little axe and many scissors, undergarment of heavenly crust

I was tailored by the sorrows that needled my Grandpa’s mouth

That’s why am eloquence spoken in pale,

Riddles back-cross test, blue pea holes am inhale

Thermostat, rabbit penetration and hoes call that pen poisoned?

Here is hedges uprooted off Kemetic groves

I ain’t scalpel, burdizzo with mischievous clamp to smash ovaries

and blood vessels fenced by lust, but least love.

Remedy eunuchs, how many solitary confinements

will hermit my romance on the graphs?

Dead poets hang their charade to ride on my chariot

but am not darker than immortal rot similes carted offstage

Moral talks, if ever have to kill the alphabets and peddlers:

assisted suicide mechanic Hip Hop Garage on eulogy page.

Evacuated grey matter strings to draw

time series cropping vegetative soul, painless permit death

Graffiti scribbles wolves walled on the street, some verses I spit

Short from the glory and peak,

But then I swear,

If Jesus was alive his fetal scripts would hemorrhage another weep.

Irreversibly comatose, am the other niggard pollen grain-end

aside but I carry death capsules for a brain heap.

Causal journey to offload my burdens

As word pictograms reflects Seraphic meth solutions unfound.

Criminal atlases seduce my geography ass,

“Could I fart windmills to dust and infract light robes?”

My Questel student laid on the pillow

my wreckage should have better be denied.

Only one deity,

I a-greed to mend souls with ether-net wires,

so [god] help me.

Dignified am departing

with decimals will they ever trace my penises.

Or scar it like a circa on periodic?

But I have a right to damage, to my philosophy bodices

Patch a sponsored advert with my poetry in creases.

Palliative species fixated on the slide,

you ask why time is round-bottomed, gay and timeless?

Ferries and dragons

Glad I came

Motherfuckers, I’m still calculating the price of my hope

Repressed in fraud,

so I had to format my Sunday School god definitions

Doves with animal print bandanas cover my album visions

Deepened battle after roads sink out your life

They ask me if am never inside dark temples of lamentation

Double O, “Brother, no happiness you hermit: Be Common.”

Spiritually pacified, I figured the oceans are vast and blue.

College currencies destroy knowledge, ask education you ruined.

Soon freedom is calligraphy on mortuary doors.

I long to see an example of my peasant revolutionary,

Ochuka where did they covered your grave – own?

Commodity structure,

Niggaz am only worth dead Braille and penury of a sculptor.

Clinical dirt, the germ that grew to raise my mother slept

If I ever stepped on the studio, will I ever unmask the blemishes?

Standing in the middle of youthful rot while Psalms kill my self.

Arousal from the wells underneath breasts,

Just a soft juice,

maybe my stems would stain matchsticks with a forest.

Lecturing to mute cave walls in platonic Republic

Assassins are signed in records to debase me in acid

But I’m lit mars, red earth and pink matter graphed on my grid.

Celebrity ridicule, fuck am an idol reduced down to an atom

Heroes were roasted of kilns,

so we dragged history to prescribe fatal morphine dose.

I’m mortifying dead languages

Need you ask buckets kicked from the carnage

Baby soup, I used to love you: I had to milk cannibals,

in affiliations unfolded thighs for a recipe

Push shove,

I did it for the spoon to dogma you priceless on my spade.

Poetry is seized on the creed

Maybe reason every other dick pile lines on terraces lean

I will dilute your grammar Nazis in my Black-hole

Palm horror scope, my shit affluent fees as not your asshole.

It’s blasphemy to rhyme with your soul

Think you can record my porn dialogues with cremated gods?

The color of a modern world in urban skyline,

You remote than melon heads, shadowed by lime tree of life.

I have never blinked

ever since the society I realized the society is bleak

Eyelids are heavier than a Hades wrinkles

that angels propose to encase the devils in.

Cubicles with trinity walls,

If you ever climbed me, volume drain is inevitable.

I lack clarity till finality,

ever since I kept dissecting arousal speck in my eye.

Chalked, bored, talent is a stride

How many astral leaps can you soul beneath you hide?

Lonely legacy when purposes malforms futile and vain

A little longer before the hymn decks burn out,

Bars replace the questions, life is a metaphor, The Muse is loud.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *