Plain… as day.

Plain… as day.

Same ass day.

Over and over.

Done and done.

The race is for the swift…

The swift to judge.

To condemn…

To cast aside.

The hand that feeds some

is riddled with their teeth marks.

The turn of the tales… be el.

Ease into being all “S” on chesty.

Rush nothing…

At the pace of nature

even rapids take their time.

Make ours… worthwhile.

Earn more…

Earn titles…

Shake them off.

Greatness has no arrival line.

Often humble beginnings though.

Until the advent of wanton pride.

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This moment…
Free…
Free of… free from… free to…
We love. We’ve come… We’re true…
to the essence and aching bones.
We dance from the depths of our struggle
into a new light sans bubbles,
awaiting bursting.
Reality… simplicity… authenticity…
the slaking of our thirsting for greatness
in uncertain times and strangeness…
even amongst kin…
Pretense stings…
Leap into wins…
We’ve been weak before but we’ve wind in our wings.
We soar above thermals of turmoil
to our rightful space.
All else fails so true calling can prevail.
All else pales… comparison is futile…
So is hate.
Right on time comes the rain.
Right on time comes teacher and king…
when readiness is evident.
All life is God paraphrased.
All names are pseudonyms.
It is what it is.
The word is not the thing.
It is just what it is called.
What does it answer to?
What brings it forth?
What brings it back?
Perhaps we should just give thanks
and leave it at that.
This moment…
Free…
Free of… free from… free to…
Live gratitude.

01

Thought pollution

Streams of interpreted information
What revolution?
Cycles of same like seasons or holidays.
You conform too much.
You contort to fit your fate…
Colonizer’s crutch.
Man, help yourself up.
This is us.
Earth is us.
Nations are bluffs.
They separate unity.
Oxymoronic…
Imprisoning with impunity
so you can’t see the you in me.
I’m not puffing chronic.
I won’t waste medicine.
I’m already high enough.
Clarity grants me prescience.
I’m most high when at my lowest and still rise and take my stance again.
Sometimes spirit is all I can rely on
to bolster me to defy odds
like the many Neos and scions of Zion.
My life has always been challenging.
Fitting… as I am a champion.
A champion of the cause of freedom and authenticity…
A champion composed of reason and intensity…
A champion a warrior with a poetic propensity plus a profundity proclivity.
Pulse; beat.
Chorus: I gotta live with me.
So no sleeping with the enemy breathing on my neck like I’m caught in sleep paralysis.
Waking dreams of vacancies at the top of the food chain yet not animalistic…
Nah this is that Natural Mystic.
I’ve been flowing through the years
unbeknownst to those who are not my peers.
Hmmm… Who are my peers?
Perhaps those who add verse to the equation and alleviate fearful conclusions that the world is destined to maintain the illusion that domination and destruction are strong suits or improvements and not progression towards losing… everything priceless.

Something New… The Old Way.

I won’t borrow style.
I will burrow into my wild, wild best.
Diminishing returns…
Impoverished… It burns.
For there is so much to be brought forth.
So, in I go.
No bars to hold,
No scars to jade,
No point to prove,
No one to entertain…
My pen is free again.
As am I…
An awakening proved itself necessary.
So slumber shan’t stall stories from monumentally being built.
I relinquish my previous entries and exit onto a bare field.
I reminisce back to tabula rasa
(stated as status no more or not quite as much…).
I do due diligence in documenting the passage.
All is passing…
All this passion…
Result…
I’m enacting purpose filled action with no outcome attachment.
All is dancing…
So I smile as I type.
My pen is metaphorical.
It is rod, staff, caduceus… if you will.
I will… aligned with divine will…
I am of divine ilk.
Hence the divine ink.
Connotation to the winds…
Convocation of the wins…
Dusty trophies.
Batty belfries…
Cathedral palsy.
They say the best things are to die for.
But aren’t the best things to strive for?
Successful struggles are ones we’re alive for.
It is easy to put words in the mouths of dead martyrs.
Who can truly die for another?
Yet who am I to cast anything…
least of all aspersions and assertions?
I am I… That’s who.
I am I. Is that you?
Then act like it.
To hell with political correctness.
Deception is war. So is politics.
It is a war on the use of your own good sense.
We trade responsibility hence power for the security of authorities
then cower.
Am I doing this right?
No! If you have to ask.
I’m just doing me.
Proud.
This one is for free.
Loud.

Peace.
Crowned.

Charge

I challenge myself to a duel
to the depths
I could almost be lost in my own consciousness.
But that’s a stretch.
I won’t unconsciously accept my foot on my own neck.
Or any idle threats to be less than my best.
My past won’t hold me hostage.
My future won’t confound my current steps.
As for now…
Too fleeting to pin down.
There it goes again…
Lazy language limitation…
We talk ourselves out of Els and into L’s.
Have a nice day mankind.
I don’t like ties.
They seem to signify leashes.
And being tied to the matrix
OR the water cooler.
Or paternal pathologies passed down
Or passed on.
What passion in pencil pushing?
If the figures aren’t figments of artistry lifting from pages to dance with the daydreams school tried to kill.
They almost made me sedentary and trained me to sit still.
This Lion Can’t Tame!
Research my last name and read of the grail.
I perceive all… My body will never be a jail.
My mind will never be a warden.
I beg no one’s pardon.
I am my own sovereign.
This hubris won’t harden.
My heart is merely charging my soul
for the journey, struggles, and battles ahead for my Squadron.
Se La Vie… No problem…

I fated.

I fated faded gene…
To then imprint another scheme.
With true avowal and action ensuing
From the true in him…
Altruism…
Why not make that a faith.
Why not make that relate to all…
Even the creatures of the field.
Even the initiators of the fall…
For are not all falls the call for orchestrated rise?
Who conducts themselves thusly as aforementioned above me?
Absolve me…
Make me clean again
Oh meditation…
Oh divine dictation
Taken…
I leave all on the page.
I am vacant…
No one asked for full sacrifice of all you are for their own ends.
You assumptive closed yourself into a box…
Lion defend…
Stand…
Take no shorts…
Then they can’t be a given.
Dignity…
Self discipline…
Regality revision…
Duality… Division…
Decision.
Waver not…
Heed O-Sensei well.
Memory cuts to the chase…
Tentative tut
Preemptive put…
A whole in one…
A whale of a tale…
A fluke then a flunk…
Every dog has its day…
As well as each Garbage pail…
As well as broken clocks have their moment of truth…
But will never again Alarm…
Unless repaired… and well.

Daiikiru Akasha Maximillion

lion-i