You are an I in the eye
the eye that hynotizes the essence of I...

And the galaxies par religion will be heaven
and the races not revealed by official networks will be demons
and the elementals and avatars in sacred places will be unearthly beings

the moon will be a rocky orb and not a planet-ship helping a race evolve
the tree will be a plant and not a transporter of energy via energy beams, connecting the underworld with surface humans and life...
And the stars will be ***** of gas and not a picture a thousand years old
a thousand years as planets in those star system are thus ahead of us
and spaceships will be UFO's
and beings from the universal neighbourhood will be aliens

You will be taught to speak in a defined vernacular called language
Your psychic abilities will be reduced via sonic beams emitting negative energy
reduced via products that reduce positive vibration

You will belong to a race, tribe and religion
You will fall into a gender
Your destiny will be death
Money will be a means of exchange
You will not think of Earth as a space, but as a lonely flat plan-et
Powerful families will rule your life
Government will dictate your purpose
Wars will be fought and it will be blamed on oil

You will know only that which you need to know
You will be driven to follow predefined norms and orchestrated systems
You will be watched and never truly feel free
This is the Matrix
The web that imprisons souls...
and slower than the speed of thought you will trail in linear time...
The web that confines your thinking...
and reasoning will only be absolute within logic gates
You will be encouraged to be as one with them as they will be compelled to be one with you

Life will be basic, you will not be aware of the realities and dimensions in the world
Your conscious mind will be wrestled by ego
Your heart chakra will be tainted by emotional scars

You will not see the eye that sees, only what is seen fit to be seen
Only when the dragon has licked you and its friends stabbed you and molested you - will you be free to choose to be free
This is the matrix and you will be made to feel like an orphan
Your immaturity and lack of knowledge will lead you to adverse happenings
"Live and learn", watch as they crash and burn
If you are wise you will learn to yearn
and a fate that is yours will you discern

maybe and only then will you escape the threads and define your own reality.
Welcome To The Matrix

I'm not hard, my pen-is
Erecting ideas hands free
Fluctuating thoughts up and down
Sweating emotions like my heart is on a marathon
Curving negativity directing it to positivity spots
Ideas crying out of my soul
So writing gives them holes
I point in metaphors
They pore out through my pores birthing hairy sentences
I brush them into verse
They grow teeming up like a curse
I act fulfilled but the fool of me feels empty, parched so I queench my thirst
Drinking my own excretions

Hoping for someone to take me to an ****
So I can shave some and that's the sum of how I can save the paper I write on
It told me stories of its native habitation
Beautiful barked tapestries called a tree
But I have to put it out of its misery with a fruitful full stop. So writers do like Adam and bite this

we used to flow like the river
but now we're cold as ice

we used to feed on the fruits of romance
now we have dry pastures fielded with ignorance

we used to check each other coast to coast
now we barely see eye to eye
love was blind but gained sight
and it saw on the other side of loneliness strides
I used to write and you would ride
ride my words like a pony of beautiful thoughts

we used to send each other smiley faces and sweet nothings
now we're the image of people who used to know each other but just retire their memories on some couples' anthology
I write poetry to fit the gaps left by emotionless apologies
Were you sorry to leave or were you sore for being a thief?
the thief of my heart, a pioneer of love and its jeers
I would cry and cry a river of tears but that doesn't shake off the forthcoming fears
I thought we would last years and years but now all we have is a map of memories and ambitions lost in wonderland

We used to be the superheroes of love and affection,
now we're stripped off all its comic books
It was high and a frivolity when you shook me with your spark
Now I throw darts hoping it didn't leave too deep a mark
a game I play myself, to weigh how much you meant to me
it was quite a quilt our time together, a ballad crocheted by picturesque tapestries
oh my we used to be,
now seeing you is a trivial novelty
for I do not know the person you've become
I hope your new love does not come out undone
I will be waiting for my own new love, excreting the little passions that still remain in the coffers of my soul
We used to be but now there is no more you and me

just old pictures of fallen and abandoned leaves
may memory pick them up and blow them into the seasons that are the seams,
the seams of the strings of time.

Writing poems and songs of the heart
we were confident that love would find a way
but what place to accommodate?
At which place would she stay?

So many words you can say
but words are just words can you feed her stomach?
as a poet you'd fill her soul
but would you be a man to build a home?
She said: talk is cheap, your wallet is airtime,
so many words you speak, but can you put your money where your mouth is or are you weak?

We were poets, crafting words and building worlds
however to the material world it was daydreaming
We had no titles as lovers, neither bf's nor husband's
we created a system of our own
which to the world would be ridiculous
a love note has a posting fee and sending is perilous
We were poets with hat-tricks but scorned as bald men who bewitch.

So much innocence in the beginning and now the deafening chaos with happenings
a poet may swallow his sorrow
but can he eat his words? In a world where money is a god
how soon before he bows...
with no living you're at the bottom of the tower
and conspiracies enlighten you with truths that are sour
wrestled by frustration you'd wish you could teleport to super universes
where being watched by satellites isn't the union's verse

But in the world, the coarse and bitter Earth
how can a poet enliven his words?
Perhaps preach to religion, anoint light sorcery, appoint fair government and breed an awake society.

Reincarnating to further conceal the truth
being a front-runner of the age old galactic duels...
tortured when in honesty you dwell
try to be good and you will swell
Wise and cautious they tell you to go to hell

We were poets, me, myself and I I I I
the crew of I knows it all too well
multiple selves telling stories from different times
the self beyond and the corpse before
before time was time and after time has ended
the scribes golden will live on
I was a poet and I was told I live a lie
We were poets, and we were I.

Life is the treasure and knowledge is the fire to kindle and wisdom the outcome to distill it

Poverty is taking away food from a fellow human being
Poverty is not being grateful that you have slept having eaten a comfortable meal
Poverty is going out there with a poor self image and using the presence of others to mask your inadequacy
Poverty is not knowing how divine you are, your soul content

Poverty as a woman is not being able to say how you feel and what you feel because you are afraid of rejection or disappointment
Poverty is trying to make a guy feel insecure because you yourself are insecure
Poverty is trying to have multiple ****** relations to either draw a man or men towards you or simply for the sake of trying to fuel your self esteem
Poverty is dreaming and letting the birds talk about it as a could have been
Poverty is stabbing a person you love dearly in the back
Poverty is blaming society, culture and circumstances at home for not progressing forward
Poverty is killing because you are stuck in unorderly primitive and unruly state and you do not know tranquility

Poverty is wanting things to remain the same because it protects you from growth and the awe of advancement
Poverty is living in the past and endlessly trying to change the present
Poverty is not knowing what to say because you have forgotten how to compose yourself in the presence of others
Poverty is thinking for short term satisfaction breeding inevitable lack of long term contentedness

Wealth is inviting the future fearlessly
Wealth is loving abundantly
Wealth is joining the heart's dance by yielding to emotions of pure positive vibrations
Wealth is making the heart intelligent so your desires are not  of a marginal durability
Wealth is seeking the truth because it will wash away the lies and test your bravery as it opens up the wounds and the pain of reality
Wealth is knowing that in giving a lot and asking less more than half the time; you remain abundant
  Wealth is imagining what a future 'you' would be like and in pursuit you strive to make your future self proud
Wealth is having an open mind and seeking first to understand than to be understood
Wealth is trying to find better solutions for either parties, a higher way; which healthily benefits either parties

Wealth is having someone who will support you no matter what
Wealth is sticking to divine principles because they will stand no matter what
Wealth is treating another better than you treat yourself and in essence you treat yourself as the greatest being
Wealth is being patient and persevering for good things because you will honour them as you understand what it took to earn them
Wealth is making a promise and keeping it, it boosts the progress of the whole Universe; even the promises we make to ourselves
Wealth is cleaning up after ourselves and engineering our personhood to not rely on insubstantial and baseless objectives and mantras
Wealth is taking a stand for one's own life and not waiting for a hero to pull up the yardstick
Wealth is going to the dam with a  broken rod and teaching yourself how to fish until a master comes and philosophises your decorum, approach, conduct and credo on the whole process of being independent and going out into the world,
Wealth is unlearning all of the miseducation that we have been fed since the day we were born and relearning and rewiring our psyche to be conscious and cosmically aligned with our divine purposes and use the resources around us to make the raw a tangible gem and vice versa.

Say no to poverty.
Live a sincere life of truth and meaning, we only have so much time to pay off our debts until we're rich enough to give back to the world again.

Searching for something I do not know
Dancing to music yet to be composed
Where are the heroes? To send me home
Show me the way to be all I may

What is that whatness in the whatons waiting to be whated?
Can't brace myself for the coming
To know what my evolving self is becoming
Should I fear or should I die?
Do I lie still or stand brave and look into its eyes?

Whatness in thee the of that where whence wet then hiding cat does gaze
Few are the lights in the dark
Do I trust the bright eyes of stray cats
or the lighters lit by a crowd of hobos?

What is this thing constricting me in this invisible ring?
Perhaps the future knocking and my eyes popping
I hope it will be my prime where I'll be rocking
rocking, frolicking, bonking, djs jocking, fingers and tongues locking
in thee the of whatons where whence I find the what of my whatness.

mourning in our mornings of the sickness of lack of love which has dawned upon us
So dark a world, the angels would frown busking at the thorns of dusk to awaken us
How women loved when they vowed to die for love
how much more when they lived to love and lived by way of loving


oh but material, this fake monster that dares go to war with the ethereal
succumbing norms embrace the watmth of the hug of the surreal
and it keeps on knocking and knocking but the ears of the people were shut and soon they would forget what it felt like to love
and man or wounders of earth would rip the purity once more overwhelmed by the magnitude and magnificence of woman
helpless and bewildered, man he turns to violence to fight for his own right

but in these bouts all these fights; they leave scars so deep that they become  orifices
and the essence of woman is darkened to sin and repels all things good
becoming a vacuum that ***** out the purity and well intentions of kind men
birthing underdeveloped zygotes that populate the thinking in society
these halflings tattooed with stereotypes and false beliefs impinging a doctrine that overthrows the goodness of the male gender


so all she will know women are the evil deeds of men and the good becomes illusive
somebody rigged this program , new versions and updates are slow to process
so the image woman has of herself is low
an image of weakness, inferiority and inadequacy
the few men who do come to love, barely make it beyond the firewall of servitude of self-righteous gods and and immortal godesses but what does this have to do with love?


How is it building up the image of the possibility of good men and the freeing of violent and dysfunctional men?
How do these systems and rituals build and culminate once more the image of divine woman?
where man was and is and shall be maleandfemale integrated


There are many religions and sacred beliefs but if God or Divine Source does indeed exist then we as descendants of It/He/She/Them; should have their encoding in our DNA and that is the scribe within our conscience
our hearts
our sincere feelings
our authentic being
our celestial roots

when women loved; men went to space during *******
men built houses as fit as temples
love and marriage were separate entities
children never left home
self was fulfilled because of the freed feminine energy of creativity and spirituality within each of us
before patriarchal systems and woman-oppressing religions
when women loved men forgot about war because to their women they were equal and complete


so now relationships fake and dysfunctional
angry men and vindictive women
children at the helm of injustice
some spend time in the garden to restore
some are in the park not to look for a parking for they have found their place on the bench
they warm the bench not to get fired up before getting onto the field but to keep warm from the coldness all around:
the lack of love and sincerity or refining tranquility

Many have forgotten how to feel for many things are manufactured like products
and people engineered like parts sold off into the market
each business protecting its culture and creed no matter who bleeds
what would Mother nature say if woman still loved?

probably cry that love is being aborted and darkness recycled so material continues to industrialize.

When women loved
love was the only deal and righteous will

Magicians say that there is a third energy created by the connection of two souls
Tell me then with the high rate of lust, where does this energy go?
As ******-seman I sour seed, tell me where does it go when it is freed?
Who collects all the third energies?
I want to know what the souvenirs are of my wet dreams
I wish to know where these drips flow
I wish to know who those people in my wet dreams are
I want to know Where we go when we lose ourselves in orgasma
Are people in our wet dreams a cast for a theatre screened in higher dimensions


Are our specimens being collected to genetically engineer other beings?
Where do we go when we ******?
What do we see as we shut our eyes?
Who collects the ***** and vaginal fluids knotted in condoms?
Who receives all these used condoms?
Are we still sacrificing gods of the old?
Are they out there those who steal souls?
Are they still out there those who steal souls of unborn babies resulting miscarriage?


Where is the hub where all these energies are administered?
I want to know where to go when we get lost in the ecstacy of ***
Is it a track to keep us imprisoned, another way to keep us low?
Tell me do we sell our souls every time we are not having ***?  Should we see each other through the third eye first?
Should we be of the same frequency band or blood type?
Should we marry first, but what is marriage?
Is it the ******* through a court or the ******* of mind-body-soul-heart through love?
Where are going, should we start asking and the answers will start showing.

Designs and Equations

Was it the ****** Void filling
or Pandora's box opening?
Was it Victoria's secret
or was it the intellect of victors?
Was it the prowess of Hector/Hercules was it?
Was it the influence of Arthur or Har-Thor was it?
What shapes this world?
Ancient Egypt, Pyramids and the Sphinx?
Stonhenge and oblelisks?
Mystery Schools and occultism scrolls?
Crystal technology shifting poles?

Perhaps the hips and curves of a voluptuous African Queen
Perhaps the fall of Atlantis
or the secrets of the Bermuda Triangle
Perhaps the enthralling dynamics of the Photon Belt
Perhaps the mystery of Shamballa
or maybe underground bases where vortex points are
Perhaps the missing Eyepods
Maybe ancient and present advanced civilizations
Maybe it was the fall of Mars or the destruction of Maldek
Maybe the hope of Terra par DOMA
Or a design from distant super universes
or the amphibian watchers of myths
Maybe you, maybe me, maybe we
The I I I I I's of this world
however our eyes blind for we ruin this world
If we looked long enough at the light would we burn out?
If we truly listened could we hear the music of the verses unison - universes created by the Divine Creator?
would we join it/him/ness? Would  we hear then Sophia being played as a harp and worlds conceived

Would we see a billion pictures as the cosmos are breathed?
and Karma come to be...
Would we learn of all life forms? Would we learn that there is more structural design than form? Would we learn that there are other mediums of activity apart from life?
Would we learn that structure is part of a larger paradigm of concentrated design?
Would we learn that universes are gardens and that there are worlds beyond the multiverse based on a hill and mountain orientation not dependant on planes?

Who shapes the world?

Our Souls from the ocean of love reincarnating?
The keepers of sacred knowledge at the temples of Golden Wisdom?
Walk-ins and starseeds? Cryptids and hybrids?
Wars or the Sun? The Peoples of the Moon or the base in Venus? The underground bases of Mars or The Order of The Phoenix?
Maybe royal and mob families?
Maybe government with all its true lies
Maybe the networks sustained by the simple minds of you and I
Whoever or whatever is responsible, either through sonic beams and energy manipulation, it is not so much the power of the Empire but rather the power we surrender.

I love you off by heart
I skip a beat coz’ your name is the start
I inhale your scent as I breathe
My nostrils choke on your essence and I sneeze

I knew you before we met
I felt light when our eyes set
You are music to my sick confusion
You are the lyrics to my mundane fusion

Our smiles linked and lust had to sink
Notes formed and a song we had to sing
I aimed to heal you for you were marred
You are, you are a sparkling mark.