boredom crept through veins like robbers in a pantomime, loud, brash, for all intent otherwise yet silent, ineffective as it was crass, all consuming as it was empty. he felt empty at the worst of times half at best, the eternal internal pessimist,  he insists that he subsists, convinced of the bleak future he predicts, that his convictions free him from the bars that constrict others his face stained with melanin eyes strain to view the portrayed twisted from the true image in statistics, infrequent clicks and visits and yes you’re a piece of shit he reminds himself as the media does as others do. 
 he remains enslaved to the freedom of the internet, weaved and trapped in the invisible web, email chained in liberty, at his desk he remains. hard pressed with stress,  bugs crawl skin deep, leaves his internal systems in a mess, being and nothingness eat him whole. 
 a soul far from blessed his head rests far from gods chest lost in exodus far from the right psalm of god in the valley of the shadow of death sadness slipped through slits in the wrists like a new disc, see these drives go further, slide into the abyss. 127 hours of this shit caught between rock chose not to exist, dismissive of regression deep depression lies close, too close. just the pits stare back and his soul still black wrapped benign been weird since nine ten whole years is a whole lottta time so no suprise that he back with same perrsonality a whole new rucksack carrying way more baggage looking way more haggard leaked torn from cloth savage he runs from responsibility trips, persists splits his soul into little bits feeds birds and bees till she grabs the crux of the argument swipes so idly in idyllic mist and yet, still, he savoured its cold embrace heart painted across the face caught a cold never saw a case for me and you our saviour was a mortal, reconciled in the divine, in art in music, the fruit of loom was a canvas for our hopes and dreams docs for our fears and failures still trudging over strangers and we don't even fucking know if jesus will come save us

in my minds eye i saw bill nye the science guy bring a man back to life to ressurrect the strife a sycophantic tragedy slave to the whims of those who in see it comedy cos comically astrology plotted me and him either that or misread the stars while heart beats irregular dreaming chains and cars missed calls in my cellualar trapped in lberty facebook coercing me all for niggers fucking history fuck the cookies tell gretel to step to me cos sex might just be the fucking remedy for empty for a second time i smoked myself into a lucid stupor with fickle malintention cruel misdirection of intention and wondering bout the ins of prevention cos the out was the grams intervention against the dangers of the night, and the styx so we burned em, a viking funeral for a man who lived north of border death in the family brought chaos to the order rocks strewn in a bed of dull leaves begging the lord please but no reply cos we all die and my ego did embers burning bright inhale, exhale for those can’t tryna keep him alive resting in pieces of art the face of a beloved painted forever incandescent in the smoke as we choked forward tears and for the third time i felt death draw near

last night i dreamed lady luck spoke to me eyes burned fire as her ire took a hold of me crimson dress splayed in winds from the west wandering eyes put modesty to test im a piece of shit, i know it depressed motherfucker moonlighting as a poet thats showbiz i guess stressed, pressed by impaitience too damn stubborn to be in patient and the voices never vacant and death sits at the shoulder, fast train tracks the altar saying take a knee bow head quick at the feet of majesty and find me, like feynman realigning time so i travel back to see future minds and mines set, still dreaming about suicidal sheep wondering if this new job can ever pay the fees for the cruise down to hades, and if these chats with death make me less crazy and shit bare soul as the feet walk coals and the feels don’t go but it feels like i’ve stopped running, death chasing but i still his touch coming and the throughbred aint left redressed the points made in his last text that its juust pretense for past vents and future kept secret like the best so safari park the setting war in the brain so get got or getting getting dog eat dog world fists curled as sanity lays strewn unfurled as i hurled my soul on the cold hard pavement funny how black now seems to be a statement shame these white boys don’t know what it came with anxiety creeping quickly as the shame did, just in case the clothes ain’t clean, mum told me don’t be like those guys on tv yet who the fuck else did i see part from historians and professors on discovery nat geo, used to sweat time team, used to be happy now sadness ain’t a worry it’s a habit, but comedy rises from tragic, aristophanes the way i get thespians heckling hyde from myself to not let fucking jeykll in still smoking devlish but not as much started giving more fucks hash in rotation is the only way the highs come cos otherwise the mind numb to the beauty of the green, plants bloomed under violent blues of summer brought me back to reality

lousy days took me cross mr64a, remained caged so the boy couldn’t fly away, got high like paper planes with school mates and steady start to contemplate matters of fate the boy been down a wormhole a paradox, a fallacy, spinning yarns of gold to ellicit fantasy and parody its all for fucking bathos a sucker for sin so he always worship chaos a calamity posed like ancient greek comedy im as high as the birds call me young aristophanes playing would ya rather with a coy lysistrata cos this girl still stuck in my head, i got dreams of sunny times and zoots on the bed and instead, all the train tracks lie on the edge of the styx and all dreams must die if its coming to this all stations to hell on the met line, boatmen of volga still swingin in half time moonlight serenade charon clad in red and blue no trains in view screaming fuck you, pay me, and im clawing at the bridge screaming fuck you, take me lousy days took me cross mr64a, remained caged so the boy couldn’t fly away, got high like paper planes with school mates and steady start to contemplate matters of fate as the train roars past we head to our escape to the paths that we took for all these damn zoot breaks, to escape the bullshit and heartaches mr64a mr64a verse two brings with it a pitiful view a so-called sleuth slewed drinking seedy brews investigated claims in northwood news of uncontrolable youths illiciting explosive truths joints sparked like fireworks clouds painted red purple as the sky burns sun walker leo so fire where the stars turned my birth date shook hands with fate, destined to be a king yet my eyes stink of sin and my cries held within, the cages, and notes on yellowed pages oh he’s so suprising with his black skin and his dressing so depressing he’s depressed nd wants nothing less than to those final steps outside the cages that he wept especially when the voices in my head says i’m // destined to be late to the party with all of his arsty farty shit telling to you believe this bullshit about how the sky turns means that you’ll learn a god damn thing bout all the times he fucked up and didn’t learn, not so great now bitch your fucking horoscope couldn’t see shit failure the last i checked, why don’t you cash that shit call yourself an artist, you don’t rap bout shit just rap bout shit, walking bout like shit when you ain’t bout shit fuck that nigger man he aint shit fuck him man let’s fucking go golf course catch the sunset

train journeys on rainy days make the whole world feel grey, fleeing the county like a enemy of state for a week or two saw a side of the country i never knew shame the skies aint blue, but my soul is if its all the same to you tears roll down the window pane becomes essential type a couple of messages but i don’t know who their sent to im sorry i meant to be there for you but the green got me leaning at 38 degrees so petitions are left in the inbox please i saw the world at 100 miles per hour, deflowered by man power and heavy august shower while my fears as big my feet niggas still clowning me got this song stuck in my head and i’m tying not to repeat the year drown my sorrows in wheat barley im barmy but all i see is farms so im scared i’ll regress and get depressed and become a void til nothings left deaf to the world and its pleas i might take a trip to hades cos the styx will break my soul, i know stones thrown break windows and all this broken glass got me bleeding tears of musical sorrow dont what tomorrow has in store so i’ll buy baccy from tesco and pree the harvest youssefs sown doubt that shits home grown hope being weird since 8 means i can flip the script of my predestined weird reality and strectch it to infinity and beyond cos good and evil don’t mean shit if the apolline is my divine and morality is an affliction cos my desires lead to addiction and predicliction defies prediction til all the lines blur and i see is horses dreams and coke fiends and life becomes fiction shit to make the mind split til figments become real shit and i dont where to go so where do i call home if i got no one to phone and im still feeling alone

(seigfried) male black citizen, dont that make me a war crime cos the fucking drugs the white kids be scared of thugs yet they dress like them and they wanna be us fuck that shit he said nonplussed times have changed and a race is just a construct for building walls cos it ain’t freeing us i raised my hand indignantly to those who passed names be forgotten but the spirit still reside in me feel the heart beat of forgotten nations speak from the pridelands of a home i might never see a whole history got taken away from me in slave ships to plantations see i believe the struggle and the pain still speak with the jazz on repeat davis, bechet and coltrane smile at me i pictured reality a look a like basquiat so no surprise the kid paint it differently grew in a world were i see colour vividly cos the lack thereof meant few black kids ever stood beside me so those melodies were important, i sailed the litlle wing of a lead guitarist, i dreamt of turiya with a beautiful harpist, i, learnt that water get no enemy freed myself of colonial mentality but mob convictions strengthened bad intentions home restrictions meant mad adventures and i lost myself and i lost myself

low fucking power meant lookin dour like sour grapes cos the sun didn’t shine like it used to and i am used to better fait accomplis and on top of me the world seemed couldn’t shrug cos my objectives were different less randy more brandied in hard liqour and arrogant dismissal i guess cos choice words only used when choice isn’t there and life always fairly pessimistic cos the hatred is intrinsic and internalised and no surprises saved for later ever present in past sets so the hanging ivy still a pipe dream cos that would mean the future had an ending and pretending any different is a lie and stood up by expectation cos her date still waiting replicating replicants in exodus as the blade runs across unexplored nubian landscapes but i got plans pan african yet stayed stranded so black so looks underhanded hand over fist this whipped kid hid and let slits become palaces a slave to fucking avarice besotted to her chariot i used to a ride waves maybe future plans remain unplotted but zeigeist of a fake fucking star sign might realise time was never different and days never better might not remember but it sure as fuck beats december or any other month that matter cos the chatter feels distant, oh so dismissive of adhering now appearing sane still dressing the same sorry wounds with similar dressing but undressing different dresses annointing the unrequited ghosting so they probably feel slighted or slightly bemused confused at a nigger so rude but i intrude persued by persuing at every shoulder, good thing i got my boy janus to look for me, genus broken down dialectically directing me to paths unknown cos the split represents schitz to me like the world and reality so i feel more alone but i’ll condone a few brews a few qs a few more shrooms cos now im feeling lifted the tabs got me lucid the keys opened horses dreams to eyes of a boy so sleepless see low fucking power meant years spent looking for escape, from self hate or tryna placate the demons seen as teeming with regret never worthy of respect so what did you expect i packed my bags up and left took the weight off my chest days abroad, feeling blessed no fucks to have to press ain’t dealing with no stress unfold those crinkled rizla roll you rotterdam grams, suns kissed glistening trams parks sat felt land drowning once im saved now sauce got me chasing fraus weed got me seeing clowns all adrian van de plaas so, fuck with now cos a nigger back on his bullshit talking all this new shit like new friends, who dis got me walking foolish xans got me teeth looking devilish so prevelant irrevelevance now reverence oh so obsequious so good they treating us fangs out who tryna fuck with me now

the apple never fell far from the tree but apples aways felt like oranges for me, the limelight shone sour through the lemon looking glass and this niggers some edgy looking ass fool, dusty tool in a toolbox of dreams and fears, each arrears felt like years taken from emanicapated souls of old and the cold bites sharper [and quicker] than any shark knows behold the beholden teeth marks engraved on the neck blood red til they’re golden and stolen kisses turn fonder longing succumbing to desire and the ire of the north poured forth like bullhorns so what the fuck this matter anymore any call answered with the sound of ear ringing silence preached non violence throwing punches in sermons and the congregation remains undecided tiptoed on the edge of life and death like derrida derrided like the gods above provided binary opposition to meek submission left the vicar shellshocked shirt untucked he gave no fucks and killled with his eyes a solitary tear dropped and they threw a non stop pity party donated sweet nothings from honeys and bitches with newly sewn stiches in their sides and they laughed as the poor man cried outside of constraint of human hearing his suffering became suffrage and depression became endearing to those fearing the devils nearing would leave em peering in tombs in deep below catacombs til death entered those dark rooms so i ain't been church in a fucking minute left sermon early, collection plate empty on its last visit angel hit up me but i’m too broke, god damn plans went to shit hit by a lost religion, chronic indecision and financial attrition lead to derision a path well travelled by me a cult story of riches to rags so catch me bumming fags off strangers or maybe later i might be about predilection for immature decisions so im splitting gains made into losses and im feeling neo gothic as i hyde myself cackling rambling as i cried to myself i lied to myself seams torn like the seventh seal so catch me on horseback stick close to death the only truth like im rorschach seeing pictures differently the difference be i am me whatever the fuck that means individuality expressed after fourth syllable

time ticks slowly when you have to wait for shit to happen i find at least until novelty strikes like lightning, then the anxiety chimes in with a heavy chorus of its own so i prefer to wait let life come and do its worst smile in awkward lifts without a phone wander alone down empty side streets and laugh at the wealth parked 4 by 4 in the cars beside me at least long walks stalk routes trampled by others explorers of an unknown world with lamps and maps as a guide n which makes no sense when you’ve google but fuck it luck stays with the courageous i reckon and the underbelly beckons each wrong turn with an apolegetic sigh and lits its top and shows the wonders it hides cos the best secrets are kept quiet so i like to walk alone a lot silent music being the tour guide and just ride the waves of tourists meandering gently across concrete beaches facetious to cunts like buckowski i know but sometimes you’ve got to appreciate the pretentious in their own right until a yo, wys boss brings you down to less cunty times and reminds you of home with the grease and taste of lahore dripping down big satisfied lips and the shit you used to do when you had to come home while the sky was still lit but mates persuaded you to take opportunity of better occasions than 4 blank red walls misjudged and misguided arguments with ones you’ve now learnt to love cos fuck i was a cunt to my mum and dad, probably still am, to be honest but i’m getting there i hope no longer musing about ropes except gold ones so i doubt i’ll be the forgotten one cos i get nods from rastas and blessings from pastors so i’m good for now, thanks ranks quite high on my most used words these days cos i’m steady tryna appreciate more shit by doing way more shit than i ever imagined so when the head splits its all a past rheetoric cos i’m cautious still awkward as fuck but some things never change but the paint is gonna be more precise less ill advised and more ill supplied i guess cos the schitz helps me see a little differently, granted but less departed from reality which is nice yeah, imma just this ride for a bit, i thought i saw dragons in a drug fuelled sleep, white rabbit carved on my chest in search of utopia, etched deep, cornucopia blowing steady in these northern winds, cos plenty was the shadow of deadly intentions, misdirection filled to the brim like cups of the cherubim, me, glowing 80s smile, cocaine shawty, her, whine to the death, ask motherfuckers who’s up next as i step, pressed and unimpressed by these lames tryna save face, i might dance with devils instead, give em heaven like i’m a damn reverend, or revenant, staying relevant with every bit of sauce dripping from the corduroys, ahoy boy cos this ferret ferried burberry on the fucking cheap, slight nigger looking sleek and the tongue removed from cheek, in between the gap teeth smoking area counting sheep sleep in between egyptian sheets, million plus house meek, creep past housekeep gone thought once i was in heaven as moses said for the third how he’d smoke a tree burned bush with god in bare feet while me i just took the joint and smoked the godly, oddly mary magdelene refused to get off me sat atop me and said this my sermon of the mount while jesus sat and asked for the details of my bank account so i could paypal money for god to forgive me, swiftly, checked the balance, said this could be tricky my overdraft aint that deep and my parents’ll miss me thus he dismissed me, said some sins are worth too much and lunch with devil and such means that he aint give a fuck

tripped indignant in the face of ignorance chips down crown be above with the cherubim lips sing hymns of praise so i guessin im greatful for all fools cos these horses dreams be a roll call fuck an act when the xans the hash tucked slick the backpack nigger black as sin with the light skin caught ya slippin in the tundra, no wonder artic climes make ya bitch slip under the cover as i espy a wandering eye to make a chick dceide if she down to ride or if she isn’t ice be gleaming like a blizzard fangs be grippin the teeth nd the neck singing kali with the cali and someday we’ll be living dizzy heights as we cloud the skylight with dreams of bad intention smoke alarm prevention come through wrong and roundabout find misdirection cos this komi shit a club pay the fees for the collection an hour late alas, dog days, got me bitchin and slipping cos the sand ripping through the veins of time itself rolling deadly like the persian blade sheathed crown torn from the heads of cerberus rollin threes like dice triple six is sexy nd I’m slaying demon clad in granddads garb age range dialed to sixty flames of tinder burning bright night brings ablyss

i met those who seek to destroy ploys employed enjoyed by envoys who invoice blinded by prophecies and told to rejoice, and how can you escape when there ain’t even a choice secure in apotheosis of the darkest kinds chats with death as it seemed or minds aligned ego death came on insomniac nights revealing the true hearts of men, desires that overcome them, that brings horsemen from hell to the doorstep the end marked by a mellotron quartet the faintest smile marked the end smiles i never realised how beautiful the smoke looked til i saw the light and how the dust shook into rings that formed tiny planets by force of habit i wrote, spoke over loops that eloped to the higher stratosphere of the mind, joked, that reality reflected poetry, literally i spoke to me, free, lifted as the weed took me, ooopsie mum i don’t do drugs like like thugs i do em like artists, makes the mind turn like carthasis as i break free from the chains of sobriety entirely i wasn’t with it, only my body felt the rhythm schisms of schiz left me tits up while still on downers and paranoia had my existence at its centre wavy garms but fears naked as an new emperor self hate made hades a contender for the shell of a man who walked earth a pretender shouldn’t matter since we all come from the worlds placenta fulfil agendas like four filled agendas of a man with dementia cos i was contructing a simile but i cant cant remember silly me now imma kill mcs with poetry and craft a 16 fit for an obituary funny how the darkest days feel truly enlightening thunder nd lightning, that shit truly frightening waves of truth flooding in like im poseidon fourth hourse riding no suprise those alive are hiding from the boy who break walls, im the shining beacon in the night, no need for the torchlight, the flame flickers as the wind tries to fight the light tryna keep the joint alight, air in the sails but that shit rolled tight like the squad, the crew, tryna find myself so how the fuck i find you