Them schools
ain’t no longer teachin tha right kinda truth
lads flauntin their IQ
quotin paris perfumed facts regurgitated from
outdated fantasy toddler books
systems vomitin knowledge saturated souls
culturally dilute
spiritually confused
like bugs emerging from underground cocoons
worshipin deities that look nothing like they do
bleachin skin with all types of liquids
trynna escape their God-given hue….

Re-write them textbooks
Re-fuse them half truths
Re-volutionize them wololo schools
Re-duce graduatin any more fools.


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Posted by on April 22, 2014 in Poetry & Spoken WOrd


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I ain’t sure wetha shi cute coz she beautiful

or coz her skin is light

I’m confused coz the standard of beauty has

always been white

mis-matched grace coz of this thing called race

damn tired of senseless conflicts emerging from fake castes

I wish the Most High wud just do a total re-make

with just one single change

create all of us the exact same

then finally we’d know some peace

in this god damned bigoted place.



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Tha beast wants to eat
feels oversized in his skin
feed him
he’ll grow big
strong enough to break thru’ concrete
bend iron bars
cut through solid carbon steel
then break
a wild instinct thirsty for
blood and raw meat
nauseated by over-diluted
zoo juice
tasteless refrigerated over-processed
turkey drumsticks & chicken wings
nutritional insult onna wild thing
wild spirit
daily dreaming
roaming Free
thru’ dense cypress forests
cool clear springs
towering acacia trees



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shi seh shi want to braid a lions mane
shi seh she can tame the wildest of game
shi bliv any beast placed inna cage will
break at a certain stage
Delilah of tha digital age
shi possess that circus mentality
convinced a Sumatran tiger trembles at
tha sound of his master’s whip
shi claim her luscious lips can
tame any wild spirit
I fear a beast will soon tare her
fantasies into a thousand little
tiny bits
tragedy of a proud queen brought to
her knees by tha slave she thought shi
cud keep clutched under her heel
natures mesmeric kiss.



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*Addicted 2 Ink*

shi seh shi dig how he write. 
shi awed how he weave him words with reeds of rhyme.
shi wan’ marry him mind. 
shi seh evry line him scribe taste lyk wild wine 4rm tha amarula grape vine.
vowels massagin her brain lyk soft sauted hands caressin’ thru her hair-line.
shi lie him cah shi seh shi go die wen him ink dry.
4 sure shi go dead cah shi crazy in her head
who di hek places thea breath in di hands of a rebel’s pen?

wen di desert spread n di pen is malnourished of vowels
shi go wine n dine in hell o join di angel choir in heaven
no longer obsessed with tha murky mind offa rebel.


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Posted by on April 9, 2014 in Uncategorized


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*Tha Tube*

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this lying tube got our eyes glued
as if we’ve been charmed by voodoo.
it confuses u
cant even tell tha difference
btwn truth n bull.
too many souls actin lyk fools coz
them convinced its tha new cool.
2 many little queens overdressed in nothings
fanatically twerkin n swimmin in dirty nasty practice
thinkin its tha real life lovin.
young kings paintin tha streets with red ink
convinced tha bling n a piece is tha realist thing
that gives one supreme identity.
this screen got lil kids blivin its cool 2 hav flings,
jumpin 4rm tree 2 tree lyk a vervet monkeys.
got our byutiFULL queens thinkin
they too big 4 their own skin
n losin some meat will somehow lift
their malnourished self esteem.
got evry girl blivin that slim body barbie
long silk blonde hair blue eyes lighter than
a stick chick is tha ideal.
bleach creams n diet pills bcomin more popular
than them dixie chicks.
this tube got the youth an illusion of tha streets
being cool ba speakin ill, killin spleas,
blazin weed n livin on xtacy.
the enemy is within
tha real beast is in ur livin room.



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*Simple Mind*


I’m a simple minded man. When it comes to issues of religion & spirituality, i try to keep it basic. In art class, I wuz taught that if you wanna understand an artist, all u gotta do is analyze his or her art. God is tha supreme artist. I have been learnin’ about Her by spendin’ time observin’ Her art. I rarely go to tha Temple, Mosque or Church. I prefer climbin’ trees, swimmin’ in lakes, watchin’ birds, admiring tha radiant sun. I seldom read the Vedic Script, Bible or tha Koran. I prefer lookin’ at tha patterns of flowers, leaves & grass; tha arrangement of tha heavenly stars. I don’t trust priests, preachers, yogis or Imams. I don’t trust man. I trust dirt & mad. She created much b4 She crafted us. We were last so we must be humble enough to learn from the dung beetle n tha ant. As you seat listenin’ 2 tha word, mi Imma be somewhere in tha wild listenin’ to bugs as they dance with blades of grass. God(ess) is Earth. Trust dirt. Be wary of man. Trust only Her.


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