Kamau44 | Poetry Vibe
Kamau44

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This poet practices good karma and posts comments 11600
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Human Factory

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Underground Caper

CATEGORY

long distance

Views: 133

Everyone say I can write...but my words are in a fight with life to do what's right...yet, these burning tears are blinding my sight like the sun is in flight as darkness rage against the dying of light with a carving knife in the time of strife... where they have murdered my father and raped his wife...

Is there a conspiracy to life or are my thoughts like Picasso, and I can't get this painting right, as reality guide my hands to write through the rain, as tears fall on each letter I write like my pain is a long distance train burning through my brain...

I am a passenger in chains running through the shadows of flames crying tears of flames with an honorable aim to change the ways of these corporate games, Who hide behind three different names, invisible to man... and the investigation found that they are very fond of adopting fame and erasing names, that has me sitting in this cage like a picture frame... with mental flames and a pistol brain...who sit in history stains...

My memories are bunch together like freeway lanes as I open closets full of secret shame, and each motion is guided, as every nerve sustain the pain as the effects remain upon my remains like a pile of empty veins, drain...

Am I'm going insane?...it feels like there's a hurricane in the walls of my brain... and I'm not here to entertain you, like I have a loud guitar and champagne...I arranged words like biology that embody me, life is me with no apology through this grammar doxology and heavy psychology with certified quality, and out dated policy, that has us changing our cosmetology with an A plus in toxicology...

We have been through so many verbal abuses that we believe in our own mythology, which is another slander, another slur, another hollow apology, why their propaganda alter our philosophy that underground us like we studying geology to find equality...

So now we live off wicked theology as I master the numerology of numbers in the cold winters of summers, as blind eyes seek and wonder, and old hearts beat like thunder in the brightness of colors... as they mentally starved us till our minds rumble like a gun with a loaded muzzle, and our thoughts runs like an athlete runner, drunk, stumbling as we mumble for our mother...

My words fight with life as I write poetry that burns scriptures, that bury this government, that free you mentally, so that we can break these underground Satanic structures that cluster our cultures...men like vultures mirroring the reflection of horrible sculptures, in this underground chamber as I'm being suffocated by maddening vapors, why I sit here writing this paper...lost in the crime scene of this dream... layers upon layers of yesterday news and tomorrow future haters that devour our screams...

I am the protector with plenty of lead with no eraser... God's favor weapon...and I'm only telling you the theme of this caper...as I turn this paper into pages of awakening words for the ages, to prepare you for the wages of war, I stand within the jaw of this beast writing the theme of Underground Caper... as I paint what I stare...Underground Caper...July 30, 2023... written by Sa Ra Safari Messiah

 

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