Friday, 31 August 2012

Mutabazi

MUTABAZI


In the day of tribulations the weight given to Mutabazi the Seer which he did witness.
O my God! Why do you open my eyes from sleep, it was a good sleep and peaceful rest.
To believe the world is a playground and that the rides turn slow. Things r not as the seem
I dont believe my eyes, the secret horror. Please let me sleep O sweet ignorance.
Now I cry out with bitter tears at the mess of the land in which you call your own.
Why do I cry tears, for what reason. Why do I recieve more than the rest. Why am I alone
to myself? Why do I stay in the hills and remember the old days when I was a cub
and things were merry and hearts were clean

Create a clean heart in him O lord and remove the passions his youth
that he may not forget the ways of your care and protection
that he may not cross the boundary mark of your admonitions
he fall a thousand times but look a thousand times  rise
Let not the dark cover his light, but give him the reflection of a child

The wicked one rises, the dark man of promise rides mysteriously. The world rocks
here and there like a drunkard, the way is not clear and the storm is coming!
I try to run away, but in vain. The whole earth is dead, and your people are
scattered. Truth and love is a myth, and time is short. The end is rushing
like a busy town. There is so much confusion in the land.

The future, where shall it lead? And the road where shall it turn. The youth
who shall guide them. And the old, who shall care. The whole land is cold
and gone from you. I fear the results.

Then the voice of the lord answered me and said, write down the dreams of
your sleep. Write what the eyes see and the ears hear. Not all Israel shall bow
but my people are scattered, the remnant of Jacob, the true Israelites. 
Stand in the light and do not worry for I am with you.
For not all are jews who say they are Jews and not all are blessed
who have the earth in their hands, the soil and all that dwell on it.
All belong to me, they shall pay me with interest.
I shall reward them with blood and mighty slaps of fire.
I Jehovah shall visit them suddenly and the world will watch
That synagogue of Satan, those cruel Jews will crumble with the heat of fire.
Their enemy will do unto them what they did unto others.
Blood for blood and more blood.
When all this happens eat and drink and merry.
Who shall I see fit to carry up on that day, who shall be lifted above
but only the righteous in Christ

Do not be troubled with iniquity and hypocrisy and all manner of senseless
chattering, for the truth cannot hide. Do not marvel at price-tag preachers
and false prophets who know me not.

Yes
My spirit was moved in me and I shed so many tears. My heart stirred and burned
with such intense fire that made me groan a bitter sweet passion
I suffered many things but the hand of Jehovah was strong.
I did not understand, useless I say. Why have your people sold out?
Why so much evil in your church, Why is the truth hidden and for what crime
is there in love and purity. I shed so many tears.

Murder is the case
The rain is shouting murder, murder!, and the weather men make false predictions
they prophecy magic and sorcery and chanting spells for all
even great and small, the eastern parts are malnurished
For Israel plunders nations and take what is not theirs and rob the earth of its people
they blame their own terror on others
on your very people they point a finger and place a burden
to them I say woe, and triple woes
And to the earth I say run for your life for what is coming soon
For the lord of love and mercy will transform into a man of war and spill much blood
there will be wailing and hunger and much bodies
But the spirit of truth nowhere to be found
I shed so many tears

This is not the place. This is evil. My word which I poured from the wells
of my heart
Your people have become the world, they dont care
Prosperity is their celebrity and profit their game
their harvest is of souls and not truth
their interest is a name and not Jehovah
They do not lift burdens but add brick upon brick
and salvation is no longer your gift, but a price heavy
They sell the earth for a diamond and prostitute the innocent for gain.
The ignorant fall to their knees and follow blind
the masters carry the sheep to slaughter house.

Woe to those who call themselves your people, yes
and bash those who they preach are not your people
woe to those who credit themselves for milking your name, no
and eat up those who they mark as heathens
woe to those who say to keep the laws
but among their earthly garments dwells many flaws
woe to those who claim to have your day
but without love they profit not but throw others away.

For he sees and he  shall reason with himself and his creator.
how long have u know me? From before the world
how have u fixed my ways? From birth
Since when have I  been a stranger and mystery in this land?
forever
Cause Jehovah is everywhere and is one man, selah
For I reasoned well and here is my conclusion
I will stand tall and will not fall
I need no worldly 'friends' for I never had many
I stayed to myself  reserved as a child and played with few
I do not belong to the crowds & have no appetite for fame 
and my praise is not of man but of God
and my reward is not of earth but in Heaven
for my wealth is the inner man and silent meditation
and my joy is your holy spirit, tender and warm
and my home is far, but I live in a foreign land
For where do I originate? Is it not the motherland!
And where are my people? Are they not scattered!
And where was I born? Is it not India
yet I will always be a son of Africa.
I endure much forever and ever, selah! 
Though I have never seen the land of my parents
you know best
and though I have never climbed the Hills of Rwanda
you carry me in dreams
And though I dont know my culture, you preserve my youth
And though I never spoke the tongue of my father
of my forefathers and their fathers, you remember me
and the promise from generation to generation
For Africa lives in me and the spirit of my ancesters
And Ethiopia is in my heart and I know the secrets
And you exalted my name a holy peculiar name
I am not ashamed of my name
and my ways are your ways, you preserve your own forever.
For the line must continue and the faith reserved
And Ive never bowed or changed the standard
For I am Ethiopia, your very people
was raised a christian but my blood is Islam
My hair is not Sampsons but I live Rastafari
I am more than seperate, I stand alone
and the ancient Lord receives me
Look at my words, do they contradict scripture?
and look at my poems, are they not resemble the image of the prophets
 my life, is there blame in my walk and spot in my character
and can the enemy overcome a child of the king, it exhausts him
look at my humility is it my own, really
if these are not enough, go and look at my people far away
come back and tell me the stories
surely the lord is with my people and they are my witness,
and my foundation resides in the hill with birds and cool
and I am of the tribe, but the world cannot see the
mystery
 
the whole world fears the truth and hides from reality
my people are the truth, Oh Africa! selah,
its time to face reality or be awaken violently
Its time to get right with God or suffer judgement
When everything goes down who shall stand
when it all collapses who shall be strong
when prosperity is no more, who shall reign the heart
Wake from sleep cause the end is near and I fear much
Get out of her and save your soul, each his own

I lay hold of my heritage and my rights as a son
and I take possession of what is rightfully mine
my people wrote the Book, selah 
and their spirit runs in my veins to this day
and it shall print in my soul forever and ever
and it shall never be copied or be made of no use

but the legacy has been stolen, have mercy
shall I sit and watch the fraud, I am the real
will I not stand and claim my land
have my people not been slaughtered by the enemy
and divided by the serpent of old
will you not follow your sheep to the ends of the earth
forever selah.

For no man has ever rewarded me
and no crowd has ever shouted my name
and no one owns my tongue or purchased my loyality
except the father
And no one can buy me, I am not for sale
nobody tells me what to speak or write
I take sides with no church or people save God
and I follow no other doctrine save the truth
and there is but one way and that is Christ
and I never learned this except the spirit revealed
and no man buys his lot into the church, it must be given
and no man can see except he be returned to a child
There is no condemnation for me and no law, selah
no one has ever seen me but few
but all must marvel at you in me
For ive been rich and been poor in one
I never have abundance of wealth and rich spoils
but I never go hungry a day
I always receive just what I need, selah

But I live in a wicked land and the people are rebels
I share the pain of Lot
How have you kept me clean O God?
How have you preserved me from the dangers of youth
from the errors of a young man
the trap of sensual women and the pipe
From the street life and all manner of evil prey
and from the ways of sin. I marvel!
How have I walked the narrow? Is it not your spirit
O how I have made mistakes not beyond repair
And I do my best.
Lord Knows Ive dealt with my share of Delilahs
the result is heartbreak and pain multiplied
Keep me away from money hungry women
so that I do not spoil myself, please 
Help me run when they say sweet things
and let me not stare at the devils magnet in their eyes
If they come east, let me go west
And if they are north, I shall travel south
Except I have your spirit I cannot escape 
For how can light and darkness be in the same room
Still how have I  come thus far, I wonder
Its you!

For you O God did call me out from them, from wicked ways
you knew me before I claimed your name, you know my ways
you see my heart and you judge my innocence
I grew up before you like a plant, you watered me with love
and height and wisdom and  all good things in fear of you
You held me back from the hand of the evil one
you covered me during play and sickness and all manner of evil thing
from the day of my conversion from childhood
You spoke to me and give me dreams, you gave me a pen
and you gave me a gift of Poetry and song
you seperated me before I knew myself and gave me
your holy way, the way of your son, the precious one.

How shall I make my music and what words do I write?
How do I use my gifts to honor instead of gain and wealth
To the people I say have you known the Lord
or is it gossip you feast upon
Do you know the precious one, does he know you
Have you heard his voice or is it the pastors choice
show the microphone and I shall sing songs unknown
and l my poetry books shall leave no page alone
For I am tired of writing let me sing !
But how can I tire of writing, 300 poems I bring
Let Jah come in, let inspiration win
How shall I spend the freedom you give, how
how shall my righteousness exceed that of the leaders
For Pharisees they are, and I live among them. Look how the eagle
stands alone and watches the earth from above the clouds
that is how you have set me apart,
Look how the stars are hidden and fixed in the sky
that is how you isolate me.
For you made me a peculiar child and awkward , a first fruit
I am not like my sibling, but another way
the way of the introvert, the way of thinkers and dreamers
the way of the renegade and the wanderer I travel from birth
the way of the left hand and the curse of such
all the ways that society do not get.
O just look how my steps and manners tell, my quiet ventures
my wilderness journeys are many and my thoughts of you is insanity.

I hate it so much and shed so many tears
if only my tears would bathe away my fears. Im so alone

But the lord said, do not be afraid of evil doers, for lo
I will seperate the truth from the lies and wheat from
the tares. And my sheep will hear my voice and come out from them
and be separated and then the terrible day shall come
and I will surprise the world.

And many shall burn in that day and melt and the confusion
shall be much more than Babel. Sheep shall be sheep and wolf be wolf.
The righteous will be righteous and the ungodly damned 
Good or evil all will have to pick a side
But I will always protect my sheep. I am the lord

Be ready.

Yay for Jehovah is my strengh and my light. My morning
and my evening from year to year and season to season
I will rejoice in HIM until the hour of doom.
until the testing day, the final battle for the world
HE is the God of my salvation I know him and he knows me
One day he set me free, selah
I called HIM in my time of trouble and HE came running
I cried to him in my despair and he held ears
HE strengthened me in his time he makes all things beautiful
HE showed himself to me at the right moment, selah
HE stamps me with seven and it follows me everywhere
Nobody touches me or lays a finger on me for fear
I sleep with doors open and walk without doubt
The storm does not catch me awake, I no not the time of its passing
he is my friend because he so loved me. a thousand favors
I boast in the name of the lord and do dance and sing
in quiet spiritual songs and silent meditations I pray
I write my poems filled with the wine of heaven
and my thoughts are rich without want of toil
In HIM im a soldier, will thug to the very ends
he lends to me and a thousand blessing he sends.
I know peace and joy and calm rest. May the lord be praised
until that day. May his own be strong and faithful forever
amen.


Mythical_Poet- draft 1

Thursday, 30 August 2012

Lifes Gift

LIFE'S GIFT

When life gives you a gift dont sit
but double your knowledge with college
for a gift buried will remain hidden
opportunity wasted is opportunity taken.
The sun stands and falls everyday
so to sit on a talent will turn the same away
The reward is for trying and all the best
but fear and laziness puts a talent to rest.




HOW FIRE BURNS

How does fire burn?
Can we handle the heat
How many greats failed this feat?
dipping colliding fighting worlds debate
is loneliness or madness a poets fate?
O Amy is it death
how many have drawn their last breath
I endure regret so im set.
Fire burns all  no time to fret.




DISTANT BUT ONE

We are distant but we are one
we know not each other, but we're the same
We are seperated but united in love
people like Reneta shine truth from above
We are friends because we feel it
we are together and that is real shit
we'll see each other one day soon
distant but one, beyond the moon.

Mythical_Poet


Wednesday, 29 August 2012

Welcome to Life's Story Book (Keep Going!!)

WELCOME TO LIFE'S STORY BOOK

In the clouds of gloom lives joy
then the chorus of pain sings pleasures
tearfalls and smiles r coy
as winter cannot escape the summer.
This is not elusive the truth is
moods change like the seasons,
welcome to stories what youth is
 4 the rest is still unwritten.
Life is a mystery slope 
and sunken in my heart deceased
with disappointment travels hope
like a wedding brings a feast.
Welcome to a book of many chapters
 love is best where there's no money
started in anger will end in laughter'
its ironic that life is funny.
So keep going and dont give in
keep reading for the prize
dont worry and start living
YOU a winner in Gods eyes!

Mythical_Poet
edited from original V

Tuesday, 28 August 2012

Keep Going

KEEP GOING

Get up, dont stop a while
keep, keep running the mile
thug style.
This is war am down to ride
no fears and no time to hide
Straight and narrow or the open wide
Do you beleive? Do you really, really?
Must survive no matter what
must live on, rise to the occasion
cant give up now, how not now!
Dont be afraid just do it
do what you got to do, yes u
to win that paper.
You're not the only one running the race
dont give up on you, u can make it through
keep strong, live long
run the race, be a man
get ready and do your best
let HIM do the rest

Mythical_Poet-1st draft.

Monday, 27 August 2012

Is It Just Me Or Am I Crazy

IS IT JUST ME OR AM I CRAZY?

Of course im scared of weed, im very scared. Just take one look at me and you'll see somethings not quite right. I put my personality and style into every one of my poems. Whoever finds me finds gold.I thank God for giving me Poetry. He said, "here, use this to cope". So Im not gonna play Russian roulette with mary j. Na. What for? I already got those symptoms. I ques...
tion myself everyday.I cant explain how I write a full poem effortlessly in 5 minutes with tears comin down my face and im shivering as high as a mother******. 
 
Wow. I swear I dont drink wine. Still I cant explain voices? How can I explain dreams? My heart bleeds.I cant explain these depressions followed by these highs- its very humbling. How can pain feel so good?! Im not in control. Dear God I hope im not possessed! Na. Its more than that. Im handicapped.

Mentally challenged. Sometimes I stutter, but I dare you to read my stuff. Im LEFT HANDED and the world is blind.

I think in poetry, write in poetry, I cant talk without rhyming something.


Go ahead and Laugh! You mean to tell me that all these things happen to you because of your left hand?


Exactly. And God got me at age 9. Before I knew myself. Before I did anything. I was baptized at 9. Did HE know something I didnt?

Of course HE did. HE knew my very nature! If I wasn't picked up at nine I may neva have had a chance. I see that now. I still have a chance. Im being real.


Where would I be if I neva got baptized at nine. Knowing myself quite well, I would say. I may have skipped college. Become a junkie. Definately would be promiscuous & HIV +. Probably be dead from smokin or alcohol consumption. Id be your average madman. I dont know. I can only speculate.


I keep thinkin of that day I went down in water. I was only 9! I never knew what I was doing. But I believed. It could very well be the reason why im grounded today. I will not redo my baptism. Na. Now way. But im glad I did it early before I became stubborn.


Im on the right path


Mythical_Poet

Friday, 24 August 2012

25 Trees

25 TREES

Proverbs
Seven times rise, seven times fall
25 years and standing tall
The 25 Poet who went too soon
left 25 rhymes and 25 tunes
My eyes alive am  25
seems like yester since I was 5
25 trees and made it through
25 tears that watered you
25 storms all come and gone
now 25 roots and keeping strong
cause two plus five encircles me
the five plus two mysterious HE
Now 25 long and nothings changed
but 25 thoughts all rearranged.

Mythical_Poet


A SOLITARY LIFE

I live a solitary life filled with humble strife
and walk a lonely road with no 'friends' abode
I talk to natures clouds, and sing with chirpy birds
and keep a dog as pet, with such there is no threat.
I try to understand, whats true in all this land
to court this world alone, at times I feel unknown.
I travel here and there without a future care
the only road I know must let my feelings flow.
Im far away from home, forever in nature roam
a stranger on this earth, for what it is my worth
to question destiny, my blessed family,
I crave  sincerity give  no apology.
I talk with just few girls who're brave to talk with me
but let even fewer see, this tender side to me.
They plant me separately, mere curiosity
I hate their flamboyancy, killing me softly.
Cause whoever finds me  discovers gold inside
In God I do confide and that I cannot hide
then mingle with the crowds but not too blind to see
that the only way for me is a life solitary.

Mythical_Poet



A GENIUS

IS
A LONER WHO'S GETTING COLDER THAN A ICE REFRIGERATOR
YOU LOOKING AT A GENIUS WHO DON'T SWEAT TO SPIT WORDS
LIKE THE VOLCANO SET TO BLOW AWAY RATIOS OF TOWNS
A GENIUS I MEAN THIS, BORN WITH A BRAIN DICTIONARY
A MELANCHOLY PERSONALITY SET WITH A MOODY TONALITY
I WRITE STACKS OF DOPE STORED IN MY MIND
THAT FLOWS OFF PAPER LIKE A CABLE RUNNING WILD
PAINTING PICTURES WITH A BRUSH UNIQUE
THE TRUTH I SPEAK
BEEN HAVING VISIONS SINCE A CHILD
HALLUCINATORY STEAMS OF DREAMS OF JESUS COMING
HAHA
FOR LONG IVE BEEN SLEEP, NO MORE MR. CHEAP
NO MORE TO WEEP BUT OIL TO KEEP.
PSYCHOLOGICALLY SLAUGHTERING SHEEP
GAMES DEEP.
A GENIUS, NO WEED OR REFER BUT THOUGHTS ON PAPER
THIS WILD IMAGINATION OF MINE
THIS SCHIZOPHRENIC CHIME SUBLIME
THIS NATURAL DOPAMINE  WINE
DISPLAYED IN DISHES OF EFFORTLESS RHYMES
LIKE PROPHETIC INSPIRED SLANGS.
CAUSE IVE HEARD ALL THE VOICES AND SPOKEN TOO
AND CRIED RIVER TEARS ALL THROUGH
AND THE HEART DID BURN LIKE FIRE WASHING YOU.
A GENIUS DIFFERENT LIKE PEOPLE FROM TWO RACES
QUIET AND LOUD WITH WORDS LIKE TWO FACES
THE WAY I AM IS A MYSTERY
THE WAYS OF MY LEFT HAND IS SECRECY
WHY AM I LIKE THIS, WHY DOES THE SUN SHINE
WHY AM I LIKE THIS, WHY IS SUMMER HOT
I AM WHAT I AM AND NO REGRETS
IN POETRY BOOKS MY DESTINY'S SET
ILL BE THIS WAY UNTIL I DIE, PLEASE DONT ASK ME WHY.
WHY THIS ONES A SWEETY
ITS CAUSE IM A GENIE, PLEASE DON'T BELIEVE ME.


Wednesday, 22 August 2012

Clashing Society

Clashing Society

What is it that divides us as a people? Why are we at war with each other? Why can’t we all get along? I speak of clashing society because I cannot help but feel the tension of this divide that we are all apart off. Indeed we are in a war, & whether we choose to fight or not is up to us. Each one of us hold a key to unlocking the mysteries of God. We all cast the net of our influence at sea, hoping to catch, realizing or not.

The clash that I speak of is a game, and it’s a fight to the death. It is not love that produces this clash, but greed. It’s not freedom that motivates us but fear. And might I add this is very deep. But we need to wake up and smell the stench. Our competition with each other is not open, it’s a programming. We have been programmed and conditioned against one another. We compete not to unify and progress as a team but to survive individually.


We attack each other with senseless fear cause that is what makes one tribe against the other. So long as we do this, we will never progress. So long as one class is rich and the other poor, there will be war. As long as few have money and opportunity and others are left behind, we gone nowhere. I don’t want that. But I must survive. That means I’m left with a choice. And since no man is an island, I must form an alliance.


We all form alliances. There are benefits to forming allegiances. Society is consist of these pacts. From the moment we are born, we if lucky, are given a family this is the first group. As we mature, we expand this unit and form bigger pacts as we learn to take sides we already exercise our choice. We become part of a church family. We get friends. We get mates. We work in a ‘company’ etc. All these influence us to who we become. We cannot escape.


Does this sound like a clash? If everything is alright what’s wrong with this picture? Everything. Are we competing to build or is there an invisible class divide we cannot see. Are we in control of our destiny or are we controlled by a prison we cannot understand because its never been taught to us. If we are really united what could stop us? Who are the masters that are dividing us like this?

Why is it that if I’m a Christian I cannot be your friend because you’re catholic or Mormon or Baptist? Why is it that we are so comfortable in a country where so many starve and are homeless? How can there be so many churches with so many lost people at the same time? These are things we must think about. There is one God and only one. We are one people.

We are inside of a ring stadium and it’s a game to the death. If we do not fight we are going to die. How many times do we turn a blind eye to the sufferings of the less fortunate in society.The choice is ours. But if we form an alliance our chances of survival is greater. But we all can’t live, some will have to die, that’s just the game. Still we have the power to stop it. Let us all unite and stand up.

Are we satisfied with the life we life or are we just existing? Do we know what is really going on in the world or are we asleep? Is our life worth just a paycheck at month end or is there grater meaning to our existence. What are we living for?

We are not carrying the weight appropriately. In any society you have the poor, middle and upper class. The middle class is playing dodge. The lower class is the victims cause they have to carry the weight of the two classes. Their role is important, society need them. Should they drop the weight, then the middle class would have to pick it up.

Mythical_Poet

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

Pun Rhymes

PUN RHYMES

Tell Matthew Mark and Luke not to puke
But go spell the gospel and rebuke
I eat vegetables on tables no fables
then say goodbye to the Bible no cables.
Stressing what for when am twenty-four
like a Mormon I need money more more
Got a dent in my stew im a student
and I dont pay rent, gotta parent.
Was lent this talent, no penny spent
Im not a boat-man but I make shipment
gettin caught by internet is big a trap
not a dentist u gotta fill these gap.
Never liked Math minus sum odd reasons
April May June are really hot seasons
On Friday to fry some fresh new fritters
not a quitter I guess then a winner.



THAT BURNED UP FIRE

Where do Poets go who spend it all?

Do they sit and mourn their fate?
Or do they hope a better race
Do they ever find the light way
or vanish from time and space
Where do Poets go?
Do they return to life
or is madness their new wife.

Mythical_Poet







Mythical_Poet

Monday, 20 August 2012

The Amazing Story Tellers

The Amazing Story Tellers

Over the course of time there rose certain men with an ability to tell amazing stories. These men
Were renowned for moving people with the stories they told. They were so talented that whenever they entered a city or town the people would gather together to listen to their stories. They had power such that whoever listened to their stories would drown.

One day news spread that tellers would be arriving in a certain town. Once the people heard, they prepared to meet them. On the day they arrived the people were gathered together to see these story tellers. Some of those people were starters wanting to know the secret mystery of the tellers, others were more experienced fans.

So the tellers arrived in town and began to tell wicked stories. There power was so great that at the shout of their voice they could command the people whatever they wanted. Many of the first timers believed the stories and shouted what amazing stories!
It so happened as time grew these story tellers sat together and counted the tokens from the people. We made it. Look at how they believe the stories we tell. They don’t ask any question. They swallow our spells. Let us go back and tell more, for sure, they agreed.

Here is the mystery of the tellers: they were all naked.

They shout, Look up, dont look around, dont eat this, dont eat that, 
dont think 
and as the people stumble here and there they laugh themselves to death.

 But in the crowds of all the people they were some who did not believe the wicked stories but for fear of dismemberment they went along. So once more the tellers told their old stories and then at the shout of their voice all the people fell down.

This time there was  a young man of the crowd who stood up.  The people were aroused.
Saying young man get down! The young man refused thinking something is not right with these tales. He walked out the town and was never seen again. Another time the command was given, whoever believes our stories stand up. And as before precious treasures fell.


Many of the town did not believe those wicked stories except it was the popular thing.
And for fear of fire they simmered their conscience. They went about smiling and greeting fooling themselves
Looking each other in the eye not knowing what the other is thinking.
These are the mysteries of the amazing story tellers

  But story tellers grew more and more such that the whole land was filled with stories.
Nobody put a stop to it, for everone went along blind.
It got so bad that families were dividing with people fighting over silly stories. Sides were taken and strife broke over whose stories were more believable. Freedom is slavery.
The land was damned forever.

Mythical_Poet.







Sunday, 19 August 2012

Riddle Of The Talking Snake

RIDDLE OF THE TALKING SNAKE.

Once upon a time lived a snake named Lucy. Lucy was a very mysterious talking snake.
Nobody in the land of Eriad knew where she came from. She was just ‘mysterious’. She lived in the Amazon layers in the dark town alone because it was rumored she could swallow a villager in one swallow.
From time to time Lucy would go about terrorizing the Eridians and cause problems for the old people.

Even the young people  feared and were sick of Lucy.
Every-time they tried to live in peace,Lucy was there. So

 one day the Eridian's said "to hell with Lucy"! "We need to find a way to rid ourselves of this evil".
So the council sat together and made plans on how best to trap Lucy. Days and months went by and finally a decision was made.  They said, "we will call the mountain lord". But the king objected to this saying "No! don’t call that  beggar, he always brings bad news. I will hunt Lucy myself! So forget about that stink mountain teacher".

This king was very proud. Next morning he saddled his horse with enough food and three of his wisest magicians for a journey of 7 days to the Amazon layers. Along with that he carried 12,000 of his best troops.
They travelled by winter but almost reached until they stopped to ask a man who knew the exact distance to the layers. What they didn’t know is who they were talking to.
The mysteriously dressed man had on camel skin and rode on a very weak donkey. He had a long beard and spoke with authority. He  directed them saying, "just a few miles up the mountain" before he finally mustered the question, "who are you looking for"? "We are looking for a dangerous snake", said the king. "Have you seen her"? The man said, “No, no snake here! But if I do will be sure to notify you, your majesty!” "Rest a bit and continue tomorrow", he said.

That night all the kings men died, except for the king and the three wise men none survived. Out of anger the lord continued up the mountain until He reached Amazon Layer. And behold there was Lucy waiting. Death loomed the atmosphere.The king was sweating cold.  As he violently attacked, Lucy just plucked out his heart and ate his head
And said to the wise men remaining, "go and tell all Eriad what I have done".
Immediately they ran away.


After few days
suspicion arose in the counsel, suddenly the magicians burst in, "the king is dead, the king is dead"!
Eriad mourned for forty days.What will the council do? Except for one young girl about the age of 12 years who said "the Mountain Lord"! Bet he can tame that old snake".
The council agreed and word was sent to reach him. 
He was a young man about age thirty. He has lived in the mountain hills for 16 years
The last time he was seen he was just a boy. Now he was a well build man with a gift of poetry.

After 33 days he arrived in the land. He is ever  late.
 "What is your price"? the counsel asked. The mountain man said,
"Give me the princess of Eriad for wife and the last sacred scrolls of the Gods". 
"No! Your price is too much," replied the counsel. But the people complained so the counsel went into session.

They whispered 
"What must we do, we have no other choice. Give him what he wants. Chances are he will die. 
For Nobody has ever seen Lucy and live.agreed".
They concluded
"If you kill Lucy we will give you the princess Beth, the scrolls and the kingdom"
The prophet man smiled saying "Give me just 66 days and you will be free of that tyrant"
Now after  reading the scrolls he burst out in laughter
The stories were so good he forget about the agreement.
He kept reading the stories until he memorized them all the way to Amazon Layer.


He walked through the garden and called
 when Lucy responded. "What do you want"? replied Lucy. "I’ve come with a gift," said the bard.
"The sacred scrolls. Here! You got what you want now leave at once".
 "The last chapter is the most interesting. Do enjoy"
Lucy responded, "thanks my old friend I will go now"
Immediately she left and was never seen again. The wise-man returned to claim his throne and bride.
The people welcomed his return to Eriad
There was peace and prosperity in the land forever.

Mythical_Poet

If I Ruled The World

IF I RULED THE WORLD

If I ruled the world it would be a paradise
no more suffering and false teaching forever
Id abolish every government free every people
 and destroy to bits every practice deceitful.
If I ruled the world large would live the poor
Id take money from the rich to feed the hungry
replace all that tax and hard living
with plenty sharing and giving,
If I ruled the world.
If I ruled the world ther'd be no religion
Id open the ports and let all go inside
There'd be no crime cause love would rule 
and all the evil people will go
Everybody would be living it up with dance
but only If I ruled the world.


 THE TEN SLAPS

From ten foes you get ten slaps
for ten wins you let ten claps
for ten rats you set ten traps
for ten bins you vet ten wraps
for ten hens you pet ten  pens
for ten trends you net ten friends
for ten rules you bet ten fools
for ten laws are ten more flaws
for ten slaves are ten less brave
for ten fights you lose ten rights.

Mythical_Poet-draft 1

Friday, 17 August 2012

Welcome To My Story Book

WELCOME TO MY STORY BOOK

In the clouds of gloom lives joy
then the chorus of pain sings pleasures
tearfalls and smiles r coy
as winter cannot escape the summer.
This is not elusive the truth is
moods change like the seasons,
welcome to stories what youth is
 4 the rest is still unwritten.
My book is a mystery slope 
and buried in my heart deceased
with disappointment travels hope
like a wedding brings a feast.
Welcome to my book of many chapter
 love is best where there's no money
started in anger will end in laughter'
its ironic that life is funny.



DOPAMINE

Dopamine, feel it coming in the air
brace yourself  my boy and stand clear.
Dopamine, the reason for this mood im in
one whiff of dopamine im floating.
Dopamine, like rain poems shower down
me calm and cool like a ghost town.
Dopamine, the reason I love eating
bite after bite keeps fattening.
Dopamine, sometimes high, sometimes low
 opens my thoughts giving me  flows.
Dopamine, the reason I laugh and cry
makes me smile with joy the while.
Dopamine, could it be in voices I hear
 emotional riverbeds and that I fear.
Dopamine, like a drunkard it crawls
shakes up the brain with noise then falls.
 Could be the way I am this dope of mine
a Left handers' tale of dopamine rhyme.
Dopamine the reason im not so fine
this natural dope of mine is like wine.


Mythical_Poet- draft 1


Wednesday, 15 August 2012

My Ugly Left Hand

MY UGLY LEFT HAND.

Let me tell a story about my ugly left hand
that came to bug me long before history
See its not really me that produce these thoughts
from early as memory many battles Ive fought
If I could Id kill it and start anew
the way I am, the story of my ugly left hand.
Those theories are  mysteries but so true
and many miseries caused by my left hand
My left hand is killing me wickedly
I want to escape this reality
but with misery brings creativity
all courtesy of my ugly left hand
I give my testimony, those things are true
The reason why im me, my ugly left hand.


SOMEBODY SAVE THESE GIRLS

Somebody please save these girls
before they wreck themselves
man these guys r so fake it hurts
cause all girls want r the bad guys
ya d ones who look good in their eyz
but dont buy what they selling
or you'll regret it
dont say I never said it.
Mythical_Poet


The Day God Read My Poetry

THE DAY GOD READ MY POETRY

Perhaps I was sad
Perhaps I was lonely
Perhaps I was tired
Perhaps I wanted out
Perhaps I almost gave up
Perhaps  despaired
Perhaps I feared
Perhaps something weird
Perhaps  naive
Perhaps I didnt know
Perhaps ungrateful
for thanks I wouldn't show.
Perhaps was searching
searching for more
Perhaps I was crazy
perhaps.
Perhaps mistaken
perhaps im lying
perhaps its luck
perhaps not.
That I wrote verses
then  threw them away
Perhaps God came down
perhaps a look.
Perhaps he reads notes
when you dont see
Perhaps he read mine
I didnt know.
The many ways HE shows.
Perhaps all poets know
Perhaps he saved me
Perhaps I say.
Perhaps Ill never know
Perhaps its faith
when God reads notes
notes kept safe.
This was my closet
secrets kept within
perhaps God sees secrets
rewards them openly.
Cause notes do tear
as hearts do care
tears do fall,when no ones there.
Its the thought that counts
no need for show
silent words, perhaps
I dont know.
Perhaps a miracle,I must believe, 
perhaps memories to retriece.
Perhaps HE does work mysterious ways
the day God read my poetry.

Mythical_Poet

Tuesday, 14 August 2012

No More, Sensitive Me

NO MORE, SENSITIVE ME.

Too sensitive, feel too much
naive to reality, too much heart
this not the world so you get hurt
no more, sensitive me.
Too much trust, too much love
too much give, not any more
not the world  so you get hurt
no more, sensitive me.
Too much hot now too much cold
too much sentence, victim me
not the world so you get hurt
no more, sensitive me.
Was too much kind,was too much blind
now too much wise as far as  eyes
not the world so you get hurt
no more, sensitive me.
Cause too much tears, now dried away
too much fear, way too much
this not the world so you get hurt
no more,sensitive me.
Was too much sheep, in wolfy world
was too much care,dont care too much
was too much them, now too much me
no more, sensitive me.

Mythical_Poet- draft 1





Monday, 13 August 2012

The Mighty Rush

THE MIGHTY RUSH

When the time is ripe you'll know and see
just how much a friend was the enemy.
The star of heaven hand-picked this apple
did not expect it when that angel said it.
He called,
"Oh son wake up", a mighty rush,
the power filled you like wine abrupt
cold chills of tender wakes
it shook the morning star mysteriously.
You run to look for him all the way
but lived to know him another day
for years passed and love has waited
the mighty rush to speak again my name.

Mythical_Poet-draft 1

Sunday, 12 August 2012

The Curse of the Poet

THE CURSE OF THE POET

I would know of things like these, what poets must suffer
For all poets do suffer in certain ways, not their own.
For the lone night did not start at dark, but before time
when all infant poets were tender plants benign.
From the cradle to the grave is the poets bitter curse
life is a penned riddle but verse after verse.
The poet can he wish to change the way he is
or shall he be born again and change his pick.
For the devils curse rests on all poets alike,
the true ones at least have the same faults alike.
Be honest, how can madness excape its awkward ways
how can  thoughts resist the part he always plays.
Wars of poets or wars of prophets are wars unknown
the ways of evil or the ways of good, the poets curse alone.
Shall he ever remain himself, excape a life that bores
or shall he need a friend to help his crooked ways mend.
To himself he sees but on his knees, the curse of the poet
For where is the rehab for genius words, genuis lines
then depression will worsen when joys become fine.
And all poets at least have tread some troubled track
been all the way down to hells pit and back
For how many poets live through 32, 
I know-perhaps only a few.

Mythical_Poet

I So Love Photography and Rap Rhymes 2

I SO LOVE PHOTOGRAPHY

I so love photography
but it dont express me like poetry
photography cannot picture perfect me
it cannot read my thoughts so many
it cannot understand the inner me like poetry
so friendly, trendy, Ive taken pictures plenty
but poetry o poetry is intimately my honey
she in love with me and I with she.
Mirror me in poetry, my artistry, my destiny
my legacy, my story, my identity
painting pictures with a pen
a photo of a thousand words


RAP RHYMES PART 2

My rap rhymes is serious as Bin Laden
found dead with his head at the bottom of the sea.
But dont try to look for him you'll be sure to
need some help from my crew of rap rhymes part 2.
with that said I dont know what you think of me
so wanted and daunted like trickery
Im so haunted I couldn't get a decent trial
with a studio photo there's no denial
my rap rhymes is in style.
Mythical_Poet

Saturday, 11 August 2012

Call Me Confused

CALL ME CONFUSED

U think me confused, think I dont know the word
haha, think again before you call me confused.
Must say I repent because I dont feel the urge
think again before you call me a sinner.
Call me confused when you dont understand me
cause Ive long been abused and that you cant see,
call me confused because I choose my own way
yes call me confused, just call me crazy
You say I must read the word, read the psalms
I not only read the psalms, I write my own psalms
see while you're reading the word to figure it out
Im stacking verses on verses and going all out
I written over 160 psalms all of my own
so call me confused for expressing my lone
still think im confused O think again
when you read my verses just know I wrote them
so call me confused just one more time
and give me subjects for my next rhyme.

Mythical_Poet- dft1

Thursday, 9 August 2012

Never Chose To Write


NEVER CHOSE TO WRITE

Never chose to write, was forced to write
when I write my mind takes flight like a kite
Writing was the test for me to express
When I spell its me at my best
I write of everything-of how I feel
of things I see and know-of what is real
but I never chose to write,was forced to write
what you say is wrong, what I say is right
Cause when I write I know im doing something good
this works for me, Im doing what I should
This comes easy, its no work at all
with words tall I make contributions small

Mythical_Poet
1st draft


  just sad that so many people (innocent) are murdered everyday but police cant stop it either. How can you fight crime with crime? Its just a waste of time. The whole system is just hypocrisy. We need to wake up and smell the pot smoke!



Night Dreams

God is going to destroy this material world that divides people and only love will survive. Everyone rich and poor will be brought on the same level. Only the strong will continue. I saw the rich burning with painful sadness for the loss of their wealth and power. In tears I saw many jump to their end for to them life is a curse without their portion of spoil. I saw the poor singing songs of joy and praises during the tribulation. I saw the world wonder how the poor could be joyful within the sorrow. I saw the saints fear and tremble for their life. I heard the death decree given to kill every saint and spill their blood. They were all in one place, in many places. The death decree was given. Missiles and weapons of death were prepared for them- with the Captain of lies giving the orders. The saints prepared to die saying At least we kept what we believe even if its was never true, God will not come for us!. saying last words to each other. O what a surprise!I saw God stand up, and decree the words It is finished! With a shout!! I heard angels scream for fear at the power of God covering themselves without speech. I saw Christ waiting impatiently the word from the father. The word was given and he burst the clouds on the very utterance! I saw the world in chaos like never before. I saw the last day, people running  and screaming and crying like wild like animals gone mad, the noise was terrible- in every nation! But the saints were still singing holding hands! I saw this and did not want to live! It was horrific. Gods cup was full. I saw fire spit from heaven for those who surrounded the saints! I saw mens heart stop for no reason as they look at the world in ruin. I heard the sinners praise God too, but too late!The celebrities of the earth, renowned men of all races, the kings and governors who abandoned the saints bowed to their knees. I saw the elements shake and burn and the earth pieces was lifted to space, the sun was no more! I fainted- What is that in the sky? I cried for joy, the saints were shouting, its him, its him, He was not humble in his parade, 
He was exercising power, exceedingly bright. The last trumpet was blown and
the famous singers and warriors of God, the persecuted prisoners, the prophets all of them, the dead young and old, the saints of ages, the Presidents and ministers who were killed for standing for the people yawned in their graves and heard the voice. Like  a flash their tissues and bones came together from the earth, each part in its place they were given a new body better than the old. The dead of the sea rose. The earth could not hold the living anymore, the rules of science gave way. Next,
Without a a moments notice we all went up! Its over.All this in one hour. The world brought to dust
the angel said to me- be ready!HE loves you!

I remained bitter for the burden placed on me and the final words rested on my head. Yet, I was happy. Which was I bitter or happy?

Mythical_Poet
not edited

Monday, 6 August 2012

How a Poem Comes to Me


HOW A POEM COMES TO ME

This is my confession
In a nutshell it started when I was just a child
a quiet little child I was
then it returned when I was 17, the first voice I heard
self alert and socially awkward I never understood
at times would cry and never know why
I really should say im not that good
I dont wanna praise myself on my poetry
but its hard to ignore the artist in me
to not boast of my creativity
the side of me that doesn't give a  damn
to the rules of gravity or perhaps its what I am
I mean I love the fact I have this gift
but something weird happens to me
whenever I feel the urge to vent
my imagination has no boundary
when I PEN there's no humility
why? I really dont know
I feel so alone sometimes,
for this is more than introversion, am not really shy
perhaps im not the good guy so
since I cant escape the way I am
so much emotion in me, only Poetry saved me!
its the one thing I excel in, nothing else saved me
when I write poetry im so freeeeeee
This runs in my vein like Usain Nah mean
Its like a 100 meter dash when my thoughts splash
you dont understand, this is some prophetic sh**t
can hide from the world but I cant hide from me
Im so self conscious how poems come to me.
Its like I trace words with a fallen soul
I feel im going crazy in a hole
On any given day at any given hour
something floods me without warning
my mind becomes filled with thoughts
a door is opened and I see pictures
I am not conscious of what im writing
until the writing is over, ALL OVER.
HELP ME! im in danger, real real danger
of ending up in a mad house
cause with this gift comes a price
and I never asked to... to
 mimic the echoes of an internal voice
more times leaving me without a choice
Sometimes it happens so so fast
I wonder what the the hell is going on
sometimes I get a joyful feeling
sometimes I dont,  like a rush is this emotion.
I dont know where it comes from
except I can compare it to the wind
you can see the leaves, not the wind.
Its gotta be something when moods change
my mind races fast like im on dope
like a well of feelings I feel in the air
im on clouds floating spilling tears
And before long the poem is finished
these poems r born in mostly 10 minutes
I dont understand it, someone explain in
how a poem comes to me, I share it.
Am I the father I doubt it.
Am I manic? Am I psychotic?
What did I do?
this flow is deceptive, it hides well from me
This is my confession how poems come to me.

Mythical_Poet- 1st draft







Connect in the spirit and When it all Collapses

CONNECT IN THE SPIRIT

It's a wireless connection let it flow about
It's not in words, its not in shouts
it's silent meditation, its contemplation.
God knows the heart, HE feels the spirit
HE reads the thoughts, be honest about it.
Connect in the spirit, God is a spirit
You have to believe it,though you cant see it
just let it flow, silent like the night
LET IT BURN , LET IT BURN THE NIGHT AWAY
God loves a silent spirit, HE loves the night
A quiet quiet spirit and HE's right there
cause In pain, in sorrow when hearts are soar
look to the sky and dont say nothing no more.






WHEN IT ALL COLLAPSES

When it all goes down, I'll be a hill
tall with my crown, when it all collapses
when it all collapses will be glad not sad
cause im strong, yes, im strong
the Lord with me and so I am long
I will be standing, I wont be crying
I will be filled when it all goes down.

On that day I will be fermented wine
drunk with the oil of light who is my love
when it all collapses on that day of curses
ill be writing verses all of my own.
Cause LOOK and dont say nothing
believe anything or stand for something.

I look to the sky salvation coming
when it all goes down, I will not frown
I will be glad will not be sad
cause the lord gives strength, keeps me safe
but who will escape when it all goes down

So run I say and save your soul
or stand still and watch the games unfold
if you have a chance escape the hole
when it all collapses like me stay far away
but dont worry cause everything will be okay

Mythical_Poet
draft 1