In Case You Feel WORSE After Going To Church-The Promise of Rainbows

the preacher said:

“Heaven is determined by how many rainbows you see in your life. The Promise that your world will never be flooded twice. As a child of God you should have a higher quota of rainbows than the heathen. As a child of God, its mostly rainbows you’ll be seein’. When you see enough rainbows, you reap eternal life. For man to reach his quota he must findeth a wife. “

Brothas and Sistas, I say unto you today, that in order to see as many rainbows as a child of God, we gotta look with our hearts to move the mountains we don’t normally see. Love makes us purer at heart and heals our sight, so you see: faith is a vision of the world.

We won’t notice every rainbow shimmering in the world. Sometimes we don’t have enough light or something obscures our sight. Like a parade of rainbow flags marching for equal rights. That’s a few million unseen rainbows in sight. Presently, what we see with our eyes makes it difficult to point to the rainbow inside. Yet, we’re quick to point out the people marching in pride.

We even throw darkness on homosexuals that ain’t even homosexual. They only share mannerisms we decide to see as disrespectful. But we, my Brothas and Sistas, can’t see ourselves what’s on the inside. Often times we judge to sooth our wounded pride.  It causes pain. It causes depression. It calls to the darkness created in the Beginning. When we focus on the darkness, then we become obsessed with the philosophy of sinning.

Well, I believe I love a God who died for the sins of the world. And because God is omniscient, God is outside of time. God is always in our minds. When we dream, oh, and when we think we lose all track of time. By looking within for the love of God we transfigure our minds. Performing miracles within that are outside recorded time.

So you see and understand, my Sistas and Brothas, faith requires looking on the inside. Faith in God requires love. Love changes your sight. Especially when you communicate in a language you speak but don’t comprehend. In other words, “Unknown tongues”. Over 31 million Americans cannot read and understand.  Literacy is mastery of language. I believe the next Day of Pentecost is at hand. Language or “tongues”, refers to verbal expression to communicate to oneself and others. Unknown tongues do not communicate to your sistas and your brothas.  Language requires that you not only respond, but listen and comprehend. To do these things proficiently you must perceive time and time again.

In case I lost you, beloved, let me speak plain: When you communicate effectively you perceive a communication, comprehend it, and finally respond according to what you perceive about yourself, the communicator(s), and the subject(s) at hand. This includes rainbows.  We can only respond to their beauty if we perceive the phenomenon. I believe that’s why Maya Angelou wrote the poem “Phenomenal Woman” because woman is a rainbow we don’t always perceive. To see is not to perceive. To perceive one must interpret.. To interpret we must be attentive to the stimulus related to the matter of interest.

Rainbows make me smile just like memories. Sometimes, if it weren’t for my partner, I’d have missed a few rainbows to fill my quota.  Then I might just have one less smile in my history. Sometimes, you need someone to see the rainbow you almost miss. Sometimes we choose people who point out rainbows with every kiss.  Sometimes we use people and add a few clouds to the mix.

But in the same sky, my Sistas and Brothas, I see woman taking on the burden of Eden. In that same sky, my Sistas and Brothas, I see the child who just wishes his father will finally see him for who he is and not who he decided to be. Oh, just a few months ago, in that same sky, was me. In that same sky, I see butterflies who still believe they can fly although they’re causing storms. Although their wings  never fluttered with the intent to cause a wp-1486323109255.jpgstorm. There’s a few rainbows in the clouds testifying to the sky. We’re just not high enough to see the sun shine through the mist. Yet again, more rainbows we tend to miss.

But in that same sky I see all the people, scared of life, fighting to keep on living. In that same vast sky, I see dreamers who decided to wake up and perform a miracle. No longer content to simply keep on dreaming. Changing dreams into reality. Like changing water  into wine. One the body immediately needs, the other takes a little time. Those are a few rainbows the average eye can’t perceive. These are a few of the rainbows you witness when you only believe that in that same sky you can rise and let all your colors be freed.

So what I’m saying, Brothas and Sistas, is when you believe, God exists in your mind, then you see beyond the colors of the rainbow and discover rainbows in time to change your life into the dream you hoped for. When you perceive God in your mind you see the messiah in yourself, you begin to love more. God loves you, choose to love, don’t become obsessed with sin. So even if you call your husband your “wife” you’ll perform miracles, such as living, again and again. Day to day, that’s divine choice in life. To ensure you see the highest quotas of rainbows, beloved, God can choose a man as your “wife”. In that same sky, God can use any love in your life. To see another rainbow, perceive faith and faith will heal your sight.

that’s what the preacher shoulda said.

 

 

 

“From Prophet To Prophet”: Virtual Poetry Collection, A Note From The Author

It’s a poet’s response to Kendrick Lamar’s excellent album, “To Pimp A Butterfly”. It’s the inspiration. Kendrick inspired the rawness, the honesty, the self-reflection, and the consideration of the words but it’s all OneVoice. It’s all poetry. There is no dependence on the slam poet’s cadence or popular instrumentals. It is, however, a theatrical experience. It is a reason that academia should STUDY true contemporary poets and artists (I am both, they are one).

“From Prophet To Prophet” is a poet’s frustration, a poet’s revelation, a poet’s love realized in virtual format. It’s spirituality, cultural awareness, and a giant leap towards freedom. I engineered every track, co-engineered one with artistic colleague DaiTrell Ingram. The focus though, is the writing. Its the poetry. Any production used is only to complement the writing (hence, no instrumentals or over-rendering of the words).

The tracks are actually more so “acts” followed by “scenes”. I’m giving you a virtual show in your ear. And if you ever attended a Well Versed Xpressionz show at UNC-Greensboro, we never just gave you spoken word. We always gave you a story. I’m giving you a plethora of stories all focused on one overall motif: freedom.

Check out my Facebook page to get an early preview of the track listing. The first 10-20 good people that share that post will get an exclusive preview, before the official release next week, of one of my most powerful scenes from the collection: “The Sins Of White Men”. OneVoice, that is myself, ain’t holding back no more. I done told ya’ll, “Art MOVES and Poetry TALKS”. I’m gonna continue to be EXCELLENT whether anyone recognizes it or not. It’s time that ya’ll truly experienced OneVoice. Enough said.

 

Whatchu Know ‘Bout Id? (Selfish)

Freud’s theory of the id, the ego and the super-ego. If unfamiliar with Freud, he is a big name in early Psychology.

 
Id ain’t right but id ain’t wrong either
Id ain’t got nothin’ to do with nobody else
Id about id’s self, ’bout id’s nature
But id don’t give a damn ’bout nature
Id give a damn ’bout free
Id could care more ’bout me
But id gon’ do what id wants to do
Id’s the secrets told inside of you
Id ain’t right, id ain’t wrong either
Id ain’t got nothing to do with nobody else
Id that ish suffixed to your self

Read at The Artist Bloc 9-9-16 (video coming soon)

​I wait to see a Blockbuster film 

where the teenage protagonist 

helps a struggling father get peace

by writing a poem so moving 

the landlord signs over the deed 

so long as that young poet

Calls him on the first to read

Another poem ’bout a love so deep

The landlord has to contemplate the land,

Considers the words in the poem

And realizes he owns his acres secondhand

‘Cause the poet’s voice resembles

his grandma reading “Footprints In The Sand”

Which reminds him of his slaveowning grandpa

Who purchased people like people purchase land

So who is he to charge per acre

What is owed to every man?

The pursuit of happiness not the Ideals of capitalists. 

School has to TEACH us to understand

That freedom is synonymous with wealth;

The change exchanged from hand to hand

All this in a poem. He loved the art

And how it inspired him to understand

That poetry’s a divine language,

A burdensome gift from God to man

This is the triumph I want to see

On the big screen, yes, I demand

New voices to write what they see and

how they speak– all for which they stand! 

King David was a poet. God’s heart. Now…I understand. 

A sinner man “after God’s own heart”, 

He sought God in the gift written by his own hand. 

God so loved David despite his sin

because He, too, killed a righteous man. 

Reminiscent of God sacrificing His son

To leave those “footprints in the sand”.

Such a beautiful film, too bad its a poem.

True Art: historically censored OnDemand. 

Introducing the New Sonnet: Giving Rest To Shakespeare 

They taught me that poems shakspeare into sonnets.
Piercing the present so William keeps living on
’cause we study his writing as if no other
art has been written. Shakespeare is dead but they still
won’t kill him. Or let him die. Worshiping his words,
they grant him eternal life. The skin of his voice,
a representation of White. He lives so free
on American soil. Immigrants in our art.
No wall was ever proposed for dead citizens
smuggled into the nation by the well-to-do.
I’m reforming the sonnet. Shakespeare needs rest, too.
He speaks no more. Writes even less ’bout much ado.
Silencing dead voices- my “taming of the shrew”.
Silencing dead voices- my “taming of the shrew”.

When Facebook Statuses Turn Into Realizing Your Mother Really Might Be Erykah Badu – In Another Lifetime (aka Poetic SLAY)

#ConsiderTheWords  “To Erykah (Written Freestyle)” from a FB Status

You bad, u
Bad, u so bad
You renamed your kah
That soul fly free
Your soul fly free
Your soul so bad u
Got a window seat
To a conscious God
So you go on
Being woman
You go on
Being human
You go on
Being clever
And keep on listenin
To old school funk
Yet singing like future
& apple trees & hip hop
Your soul bops
Like church deacons
During prayer
But your voice bad
U, u, got sumn extra
U got sumn special
You got sumn wright
You got Seven-Mars-Puma
You named ’em
To rename themselves
I see you, and girl
U just bad, u just
This somethin a poet
Got to write about
Cuz you been my muse
Since like 2007
And that’s the name if your sun,
And my freedom, was born
’round 2011
I rhyme using numbers
I’m a real bad poet
But i’m BAD at math
Took me bout Xyrs
To realize $3.60 = 360°
A number of completion
Just like the number 7-
The name of your son!
Damn, I am a genius.
Men from Mars, we so strange…
But women are Earths.
They God’s creatures like mountain lions=
A silent puma that jumps over 7ft high
That’s a complete circle= a cipher=
Cypher be the name of my baby cat
360°= a complete circle
Gotdamn I’m doin math!
These words be Mathematics
Christ’s tomb be the “rolling stone”
God Born (Jaborn) be the God-
You named God in your song!
Going “On & On”!
Yall, she just might be a prophet-
tess. Yes, read that: minus “tess”
I had enough room to say “prophetess”
But I said she might be a PROPHET
Peace and blessings
Do manifest with every lesson learned
And my knowledge is my wealth
And i studied, my wealth be earned
That’s all part of the life I’ve lived
And on & on and on & on just ‘is’
And God knows God manifesting
That’s right, “peace and blessings”
Like one day I’ma be on “Rolling Stone”
Be manifesting
These still be mathematics
She sick with these numbers,
That’s why she bad and ill-matic
“Illmatic” be an equation
But we did not do our math
That’s why she laughed!
Ya’ll she bad, u just didn’t get it
And she my mother
I’m her son. 7 is the number of completion.
This year I’m 27.
The evidence goes on & on
I’m a man, we from Mars.
My best friend, Lant (Brown Venus)
be like my sister.
We both love poetry-she jump high, bout 7ft,
(That must be the “meters”)
Poetry = just like a “puma”
Girl, Erykah, we be your children
In another lifetime!
Girl, damn, we already living!
If you read this poem,
I bet i’ll sound just like your son
And my “mama” be like your mama.
And this poem so devine, like Loretta
This my poetry! Turns out, mama, i’m great at math!
“I’m really bad” = OneVoice Ill-Matic

(Then my cypher continues…)
Yooooo. I JUST wrote this! And i SIMULTANEOUSLY did the math! And this is my answer. I did the work. I studied. I asked for help. And Erykah Badu was my professor. See, I’m still doing math. But letters, these letters be my numbers. Tell me this shit, that is THIS POEM, ain’t BAD as FUCK! That ain’t profanity. It’s just a form of expression. In English. Just like “What’s up?”. Don’t be mad cuz I said “bad as fuck”, it’s just an expression. I speak Ebonically, but ya’ll i SWEAR I’m a genius. This MY poetry!

I’m already famous if yall…My Facebook FRIENDS and other social media buddies actually take the time to read posts that ring of poetry! Appreciate the piece of ART for what it is. Because just because you can’t eat my words at no celebration, my poetry looks, sound, feel, smell, taste just as good as my partner Justin Tyler ‘s cakes. These words make your ass think. And ya’ll LOVE to think. That’s why you use social media. You can laugh, cry, vibe to more than just music. You can go “YAZZZZZZZZ” over these words just like you go “YAZZZZZZ” when Beyonce slay. Poets being slaying for decades. But we dob’t always #ConsiderTheWords and how talented someone has to be to manipulate them in a way that hip hops, that Beethovens, that preaches, that calms, that teaches, and so on and so on…just like Erykah Badu’s song. Tell me that me just flowing as I write aint BAD as fuck? Silent. Without a beat. Poet’s do this shit like Beyonce slays…or Ledisi…or Adele…or Chris Brown…or J Cole…or Kendrick…mor Taylor Swift…or Maroon 5…or Frank Ocean…Or Rihanna…or Drake…or Future…or 2 Chains…go support the arts! Don’t WAIT until we get famous. Get us while we are local! While we are accessible and more in touch with the people. If you support us…like we do celebrities, will BE famous…and artists, especially any operating in any aspect of poetry, originality, creativity, professionalism, let’s actively work (like we do at these jobs) at the DEVELOPMENT of our crafts. It’s okay to take workshops. Get “vocal” coaches. Collaborate. It’s okay to barter. As well as exchange currency. It’s okay to be as real as we are in our art. As FREEDOM as we are in our art. I may only be speaking to the introverts but we can’t let our insecurities, fears, ego trips, misconceptions keep us suppressed. We gotta go get it like the extroverts. And sometimes we need tutoring or a team mate or a coach or a mentor or a teacher.

Artists we must invest in every way possible. Audience who “like” posts gotta invest in simply doing what they do everyday…share, like, comment. Celebrities are due their attention. But the celebrities in the making, who have familiar values, are starving, not from money cuz WE WORK, but we are starving for the support of those who always get so FREELY what we value most…our art. When we love something or someone we got follow that up with a verb. Some form of action. A genuine action. Let’s ler all this love we’ve encountered stretch until it busts these chains on the people, we the people, us, alla us who share dreams of autonomy, independence, freedom, change, in any and every way…let’s go for it. Let’s gain access into the system and share how to work it to your benefit. To everyone’s benefit. Because we can do more than the expected….we can fly. If we just spread our wings. Love.
OneVoice

#ConsiderTheWords “Chains Cannot Be ‘Broken’ “

Unexpectedly, I’m
Stretching chains to their limit, not breaking
Their structure. Expecting

The snap-clang of chains breaking but never
To witness it=insane.
Chains cannot be “broken”

Brokenness is the wrong word for chains—change
“break to “bust”. In order
To “break” chains restricting you, you must stretch

so big they grow beyond
Their structure, to the point, the chain (or change)
busts; meaning it stretches

Beyond its limits. It
“Busts” from the pressure it inadequately contained.
Black folk…,we’ve been restrained.

In order to attain
“change” we have to change our structure; stretch–
Give the system’s pressure

So we can BUST out these
chains. Then we can BREAK Inequality’s
system. Which isn’t a chain.

Inequality is
a system and systems break. Because their
structure’s comprised of change.

Change’s a system composed
Of chains. Chains are comprised of “a system
of circles linking”.

Together they strengthen
The structure they were designed to contain.
Se’prate–ineffective.

Stronger as a collective. Links of chains:
stronger together. We then
be the pressure needed

Needed to change systems
(Composed of links forming a structure meant
To contain the masses,

who designed it, to restrain specific
masses being studied).
Change’s a system comprised

Of chains. We can break systems by BUSTING
chains. Study the language;
Structr’ally supportive

systems which mistranslate
the word: “Equal”, choosing words like “Man” when
‘man’ really refers to

mankind. In other words,
“humans” In other words, ‘people’= links in
a chain, make systems like

“Change”. Chains can’t be broken
because of how they are made. Come on, my
People, let’s BUST our chains.