Life

What is respiration without inspiration confirming the affirmations counteracting condemnations that serve as initiations into self negation leading to contemplation of seeking false elation

A permanent mental vacation complacent in stagnantion with few variations on Friday and Saturday occasions followed by Sunday indoctrination

I keep pacing the floor looking for the trap door to release you all,
The whore
Who freely give your minds for the sake of passing time waiting for the next time to mime and act classy but your image is ashy knowing that on the other side the green isn't grassy
but
You continue to be flashy I ask thee
What is required to restore the motherboard with its original drivers so the applications can not only be smart but wiser?

So the voice recognizer, software can hear its own voice making a conscious choice diplaying a higher resolution in your digital monitor unafraid to honor HER and cosmicly play amongst the stars within the galaxies yet to be seen through human eye,
defy the laws of gravity.

Experiencing real heavy rotation touching future generations walking through the constellations drinking all of your sacrificial libations
you receive a celestrial standing ovation the elation resonating through you producing beneficial fubu
clarifying the hoodo that you do breaking the spell that makes you compelled to use pet names like boo boo
yet
can explain and provide you with a real crew to turn to when needing a blast a spiritual starbucks requiring no expres so far cut above I rest my case in haste and paste this trace of thought that makes your nerve endings talk to your walk altering your course of action the attraction you feel the traction hoping I don't end a fraction of you are turned on and burn the toxic auras surrounding your being and seeing these words manifest you must confess the shortcomings and ask
What is respiration without inspiration confirming the affirmations counteracting condemnations that serve as initiations into self negation leading to contemplation of seeking false elation

O.N.E.I. Copyright 2010
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Swimming In Space

I fall further into an abyss
The mist grows thick
Escaping into a mental bliss
I curb my fist
Onto a pencil
UtensilI use to peruse
The abused battered places
Appearing as an oasis
Spaces unapproved for safe dwellingI'm telling, you all
What it feels like,
The fall

The pain skint my brain,
Causing me to write
When left I came.
On winter seasons, demons,
Intersecting insane,
Parallel to hope,
Perpendicular to pain.
Telepathic communication
Is not in vein.
Clairvoyant symbolism within my plain,
Field of view,
Lost some of you, in love and war
Controlled real young so my mind is sore
Hard too the core
I soar
Even in the abyss I see the door.

o.n.e.i.
copyright 2001

Introspection 5241

Introspection 5241

You stole my innocence and took away my choices

Stifled my spirit injected your voices

Shifted

My position creating androgyny

Enhancing partition of emotional maturity

Generating minority/inferiority

States of being

Arresting my development hindering and misleading

When seduced I see me fleeing

The situation

Fearful elation

Except thru masturbation

Still a child confined to your world

Raising a wife only to be sterile

Detached

Unknowingly you made me a banging’ ass stud

Searching for answers in my period blood

Small traces of places we visited with ease

Giving away masculine secrets

You planted the seed

On how to be a man

Outside of relations yet once opened up

I plot the constellation

Female born

Yet male grown

Division creating diversity

o.n.e.i.
copyright 2006

What It Means To Me

Poems are like medicine for my mind,
You'll understand if you're my kind.
Poems are like a sedative deep into the night,
When I am sleep and my mind takes flight.
Poems are my salvation when I hang on the cross,
Thoughts bring me to a road to which I'm lost.
Poems are rosary beads touched with pen,
For all the times I want to give in.

Poems are my enemies of all ghosts past,
Haunting and taunting me they even laugh.
Poems are suicide letters written in despair,
When I can't feel or see an nobody out there.
Poems touch me and I touch them back,
They reflect my love even when I lack.

Poems are nothing, yes everything,
All.
Something like my final call covering in covenant
As an ole woman's shawl.
Poems are intricate small and deep,
An intimate introspection into me.

Poems are solitude for the multitude in a tube of tunnel vision,
Sharp incision definition of division
Between streets and prisons.
Poems are reminders of past inflictions with no convictions.
Never read causing repetition of mission turned purpose,
Analyzing those who hurt us.
Code name murderous.

Poems are the truth told in tone initiated with vocal moans,
Secret yet not unknown uniforms rare resided in catacombs.
Mummified for those qualified.
In silence they hide scriptures, provide elixers,
With a mixture they're a strong fixture.

Poems are a seance with spirits,
Experience varies in degrees,
Some reach in blazin', some naturally.

Poems are tickets to freedom,
A train of thought in motion, full of devotion
With a small quotient
Over standing the meaning of a poem

O.N.E.I.

copyright 2001

o.n.e.i.
copyright 2001