Track 6 A Martyr of God’s Patience
A martyr of God’s Patience
For starters, or an appetizer this is based in,
a martyr of god’s patience,
never wasting letter placement,
forever and infinite,
as fathers and infants,
the residence of your senses,
essentially evident in tenses,
before, we record sentences for the poor,
Conventional reason is cooked in an oven,
and critical logic is fried in a pan,
pour it over, split it if you got others,
the pot’s filled with lovers,
partners and strangers,
a larger portion of patrons,
a martyr of god’s patience,
which fence could we not climb, how was it built?
We learn the 2nd or 3rd time around the curb with the right rhyme,
That guilt!
Stretches beyond the mind,
To the blues used in memories bells and chime,
In hell with a ball and chain on your spine
Shining signs until work is done after nine.
The acronym defined is Be Infinitely Just and Natural
B.I.J.A.N.
To see intimacy of trust shackled,
and opened like a capsule,
hoping to obtain energy from a satchel, intoxicate your axel,
To achieve beyond possibility
imagination is silly,
unless taken seriously,
Relieve your objective methodology,
In respect to making the foundation sturdy,
study the history, don’t repeat the mistakes,
keep your eyes on what you create
This poetry book mix tape is dedicated
to those who work hard on their craft,
Only to cash in their efforts for a few laughs,
the way a face reacts, to first draft,
unedited and ravenous
Dedicated to fighting for solidarity,
through anonymity in occupancy,
Blasphemous is the old new decree,
Who knew the blue sky was the brother to the sea,
Giving no apology to the ecology,
Poetry is not just in Universities and libraries,
But also in inner cities,
And I suppose those other cosmos and galaxies,
This is dedicated to the poetry of
Rumi, Ferdowsi, and my friend Husni,
All three are, centuries apart,
Yet in retrospect it’s the same art,
Starting the machinery for the factory,
it actually needs maintenance, waiting for the event,
next creating an audience, Rinse some seconds with ink,
whence we had come from the water we drink
and thought we think,
Dedicated to insanity of rambling,
from bland handling of links,
whose source couldn’t reinforce,
the pores of the coarse texture in an ethical lecture,
The victorious heights
singing the pleasure
of sinking natural rights,
justice is just, and the reason to fight-
Organizing a message to find
When ready to begin art, start cooking in the kitchen, with eggs, eggplant and onions
A breakfast of a champion, Texas toast, coffee, cigarettes and a toast of blending,
The origin to the organ grieving, while smoking,
Lungs contracting a reason to take a token,
She’s jamming on the organ, imploring energy from the lord,
organically,
He’s spam forwarding poetry,
Digitally,
to the local t-shirt printing machine,
And now and then,
it makes no sense and we pretend
that God’s still our good friend,
Would you question whether the infinite ever ends?
Return my ticket and send forty more activists to the picket store,
To pick up lyrics and spirits,
When we get home,
turn on the guitar pickups and lets get stoned ,
Make a track, with only wails, moans, and laughs,
Don’t put a face in the picture,
so you don’t need a mask when your ripping scripture,
Tip the barista or bartender,
Her lips skip the dips of splendor,
hips for when god slips
and permits me to render the remains of my time
to the beauty and love of justice in the divine,
-palaceofrhymes