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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Thursday, 26 May 2016

Kaleidoscope [Performance piece]


As you journey you'll reach a slump,
everything that was indispensable,
will turn into a pack of disposables.
You'll feel like it's been exhausted,
and it's time to dispose of it, and
hopefully, just hopefully, recycle it.

The things we love or attract;
are by nature boundless in our lives,
we have no hand in their destinations,
yet they follow a designated course,
and for some odd preset reason,
we receive and entertain their company.

Some times I ask God why I love poetry,
like why did I have to love this art-
of little or no financial security?
Or then again, why do I love music?
one of the abominations of my religion,
and or the depiction of "elite struggle"...

It takes an artist to portray misery's depth,
all from the hard work and sleepless nights,
to no pay and disarray from disbelievers,
who are of your own and those unknown,
to then struggling with fame and change,
for as you toiled, you then became distant.

Then my little business, oh my business,
a random idea that trickled into my mind,
bit by bit over years like a tap it dripped-
then it filled my head with an "opportunity"
an idea to oppose, oppress and overwhelm,
yet truthfully a vague blessing in disguise...

Which when we implement; we are praised,
when we endure through; we are patient,
when we work but returns aren't returning;
we are battered, squandered, and compared-
to the rest that have also "tried and tested,"
But succeeded and achieved their bounty.

what control do we have over the things we achieve?

Where do we start off to say and boast,
that it was all entirely our own doing-
that we ended up where we find ourselves,
in the families, schools, and relationships,
or even the struggles and emotions-
that delve deep and coerce our inner being?

That we choose those whom we love,
or for some odd reason end up in the same-
society, bar, field, church, or restaurant,
wherever it might be just to fall in love-
with this stranger of a different culture,
where do we start from; honestly, where?

It's such things that anger and depress me,
that make me wonder on the "unthinkable"
like what kind of devious God do we serve?

Didn't He foresee...
That Lucifer was going to turn into a rebel?
That that same angel was going stress Eve?
I mean after being burned from the land-
of beautiful angels that we humans use-
as references for the epitome of beauty,
He was bound to want something close...

Couldn't He just create a better pronoun from "Himself"
Like seriously,
didn't "He"know I was going to be disturbed by this,
didn't "He"  honestly  know I was going to get-
distressed and depressed then pen down things I didn't expect?
The worst part is the probable yes to all these questions,
that could lead me to be burned from my society...

Ayeh, the last one

Why would "He" give us different religions that do give us morals but limit living experience, why?
Yet they separate us, then make us banish those we don't associate with into the inferno called hell.
Okay, I understand things need to be disposed of but why would one create a thing to do something- bad and then punish it for that very reason as if it asked to be me made with an after life option basing on how it acts.... ?

Some would say these are uneducated and misinformed thoughts, I don't blame them
but what governs us is way beyond our understanding and comprehension,
and it's understanding is all I seek...

For I have the freewill to do something that was pre-ordained...
That's complicated!
Way beyond those who we defy can explain to me.

Yet truthfully I am tired of suffering the disease of mediocrity,
all I want to do is pen down helpful thoughts like Socrates;
although, the poverty of ambition and persistence is ailing me,
but the worst disease one can suffer is the plague of ungratefulness,
that knocked on my door and led me here within your sphere.

Now at the end of the day I am healed from therapeutic writing,
so I am going to go back home and to God I will pray and say praise;
for getting me through the day and giving me this purpose to you.

I quote;
"This being human is a guest house,
Every morning a new arrival,
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
Some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor,
Welcome and entertain them all,
Be grateful for whoever comes
Because each has been sent as a guide..."

Tuesday, 24 May 2016

One in Billions (reprise)

Day by day a new born is welcomed;
some unwelcome, 
all to journey through this world, 
pivoted on an anonymous system; 
to exchange habits, emotions, 
inventions and also feel like victims.
Victims of circumstances they have no hand in, 
relating them to luck and or mysticism-
when they are far beyond their comprehension...
There on starts their mental detention...
This is where the masses fall, 
the million-fold sleeping behind concrete walls,
striving to achieve success in "careers,"
yet truthfully just in need of a pay check:
a leaf off a tree instead of the fruit that is free

Love what you do and nature will make you blossom,
don't fret to be perfect, grow, your fruits of labour await you.

Rise and Fall

I've been in massive crowds,
listened to acoustic cheers and applauds,
from the back and in front rows.
I've been almost negligible and at the podium,
weighing out if I am incredible or invisible,
and per now striving to be invincible-
it has given me an ego, I'm now feeble,
I don't know where I belong; I'm lukewarm;
among the billions or one in a billion.
Life, the universe, nature, God,
often throws opportunity at us,
when we catch it and lay Midas touch,
we start to feel some kind of worth...

Rise and Fall # Conjolted
Success takes you up pops up, lets you drop, and gives
you some more balloons if you're a tough cookie!

Then poof!

It's gone!

Some call it beginners luck,
you think you've put in enough hours,
Ha! Well here, have some flowers!
Someone beat you at your game
they now love him like they did you,
and us people love the finer things,
and us who are being loved are selfish,
we don't want our love shared,
we want that cut your cake and eat-
it all alone kind of confetti party.
Ayeh, does the person in your shoes-
know he's up next? Up next for the ride,
one that checks your survival skills,
where the loud cheers and applause,
turn into screams saying;

Battered! You'll have to get up.
each of us has their own share,
each with many times to glare,
don't give up when stripped and bare,
neither should you settle for less,
it's in your nature to stand out.

"Sometimes in life you feel the fight is over,
and it seems as though the writings on the wall,
Superstar you finally made it,
But once your picture becomes tainted,
It's what thy call, the rise and fall"

Skin deep

Being adorned "black" isn't a reason for alarm, 
matter of fact it's a reason to feel utmost prestige.

The different shades of skin originate from deep within, 
they call it melanin; the more of it, the merrier. 
I've seen precious vantablack being demeaned, 
decolonised, bleached, Injected, and infected,
it's a shame, maybe self pride is what they didn't teach us...? 

The origin of man is a tale told over years,
from one to another it's hard to know if it's pure. 
Some say the first pure shade was earth brown, 
I believe so for we were picked from the ground then saw; 
ayeh, as it is with the ground and it's different soils, 
each shade has a different, potency, use, and story,
so it is with us humans, each with their own purpose or relevance,
each with their own clear cut beauty as per time and area of existence.

Cross breeding, migration, weather exposure, and chemical exposure,
are some of the reasons why shade and tones vary per human.
Being ignorant, teased, selfish, and discontent bring us to feel insecure, 
this causes us to cave, "make up," feel inferior, cursed or even inhuman.

Blacks want to be white, whites want to be black, coloureds hate being coloureds, 
Black's feel inferior yet are racist towards themselves and others, 
Coloureds are racist towards themselves and feel superior than blacks,
Caucasians are racist towards everyone but themselves and claim superiority over all. 

It's a tag of war causing complexities, 
a civil and discreet war causing casualties;
ignorant victims that haven't checked the side effects. 
A new "bleached breed" that doesn't know thick melanin is perfect,
it shades and protects the skin from the atmosphere,
yet mercury in these creams cripples it and makes it queer. 

We are the way we are for a reason, 
we should appreciate it, love it, and treasure it,
for the reason behind it is skin deep,
far beyond our sometimes shallow thoughts or actions.

If you liked this post, check out the poems Afri-Ka & I's free


Niggers is a misnomer- for the black man,
used to claim superiority yet it is unlikely-
that a race is dominant or superior over another.
God is just. and there is no justification for oppression;
ayeh, it's likely that oppression is a derivative of fear,
which at the set of sun spreads into the soul and is accepted.

Some of the "Moors" are great trekkers from Africa
who innovated created and dominated the world-
with the will of turning imaginations into possibilities.
Our ancestors from the domain of Egypt depict stories,
of the immense power, ingenuity and intelligence of Negus
which also travelled through pharaoh's tyrannical hands.

Moses, a Negus saved the oppressed "mulatto Jews"
who were there on "blessed" with "knowledge"
over the rest of the world making everyone else-
numb brained and constipated by idiocy for believing-
in this fallacy that they are nothing else but great.

Power is a weapon that can be misused;
although, when one wilds power over multitudes-
will to grow, think, and learn deteriorates;
because of the hefty burden on their shoulder;
so, it can be putsch-from a belligerent leader.

Pride has a lizard skin and like porous rock
withstands prejudice from outside influence.
It's the the lack of self pride that (Negus)
have failed to deem themselves worthy of glory.

Check out the poem I's free.
In case you missed the links click
"Negus" to find out what it means,
and its origin. It's a good read. 

Wednesday, 4 May 2016

I'd rather be alone

In the prime of things,
as heat waves stream,
like flaming charcoal,
thrown by a resenting God,
I'd rather be alone,
I'd rather be alone,
I'd rather be alone,
than be caught abreast,
sun scorched crazies,
with minds heather and yon-
darting to and from desires;
like bassinets rocked back and forth.
I'd rather be alone,
I'd rather be alone,
I'd rather be alone.
Than succumb to pressures,
that have people hissing from ears;
because, of their yearnings,
that have them demanding-
eagerly minus earnings,
I'd rather be alone,
I'd rather be alone,
I'd rather be alone,
than put my heart out in the cold,
to be moulded and inscribed-
onto like an epitaph,
by the numb warrior hearts-
of Protesting females that lost feeling...
I'd rather be alone,
I'd rather be alone,
I'd rather be alone,
than wake up in the morn',
like a balloon with baited breath,
eager to look at and feel up my lady,
yet the bitch wakes up to ditch me
I'd rather be alone,
I'd rather be alone,
I'd rather be alone,
'Cause in the scheme of things,
man seems to have grown wings,
and has placed faith-
into the hands of hopeless whims.

So la creme de la creme pour mes pleurs,
Or more so the silver lining for my weeping-
is to bury myself in solitude!