Is his own.

She waited. . .
Her heart beating for him.
If words could explain she would go on but
She began to cuddle her high.. the smoke from the chimney decorating the atmosphere.. the green speaking to her insides.
Hidden faces, hidden feelings of her opening yet sacred emotions to her other part.
Would he ever know how much he meant to her?
Could she ever explain?
Found in her inner design of home, she held onto him.
No one else knew her like he did, she believed.
No one else could understand the heavy pieces of her drooling emotions. .  .
She gave it to him, she shared it with him in her womb in her eyes and her heart.
She felt his touch from afar, and his words whispered to her. She followed his depth of expression though he was no where to be found.
Why him? She thought, it disturbed her mind.
Was it him or her.
His being felt like her own, her hidden and most dangerous desires floating in herself – smiles and prayer .. disaster would disappear.. tears and her comb.. ready to brush her hair.
Was he the man she thought he was, did she believe his existence in her was true.
Maybe the depth of it was much deeper to her..
That the hidden things she’ll keep hidden and the opened things she’d live with. .
Only he would know, to enter would be to always find the answers for there unspoken yet invisible seeing of eachother, taking it slow from within. To hold eachother the pieces that would soon grow old but the everlasting touch.
   They didn’t wish to speak on it, it seemed like they both knew how the waterfalls were able to drown the splash and ripples that the flow found its rhythm in their presence.
   Could it be so true as this, that quietness explained their passion – that touching eachother innocently revealed their softness towards life’s age. Ancient it was to them, but everyone else saw a different view.. they could not tell what was going on but the togetherness somehow intimidated the likeness of anything appearing as the image of infatuation or lust.
How could they share in this without becoming the madness of the inner circulation.. the pump of the spiritual pulse and the elegant movement of their shared soul.
His breath was her and hers his.. tears expressed their secrets in the open space of words – where home connected to its protection and love – there before them was another world. A place created by them. 
He never wanted it to leave them, he always needed it.. he never wanted to let go.
His position found was what he never thought he would find.. that his every part could melt in another.. no judgement, he could be the scared passion – the vibration of strength – the numbness of a groan and the slowness of his own love becoming him in him for her and in them for eachother.
Could he really explain what he truly felt for her, could he ever show it. . . Maybe if she made everything else mean nothing and him be the meaning to both their reasonings and she be the forever words to his sacred and eternal heart. .
He’d never feel apart or alone from what he knows is his own.

Moments…

Moments, That’s everything I remember. . . Moments. We’re you in them even though you disappeared. Was you seeing in me so it could be clear? Parts of us, parts of we. If I wish I’ll be drowning, if I hope.. I’ll live, not for the tale but for the every Pieces left in us. . I thought you’d save me, I think of you still. You mean alot to me although your far away. What’s the reasons to us? I’ve never known you, what does it mean to truly Know you. I use to imagine us making love but now the Spiritual world closed up my minds filth, And God has protected me from the dungeons and dragons. My tears needed you to hold them.. I miss you, even though I don’t know you. To give my all is crazy.. scary too. . Do you understand where her scared self had been? Do you feel what she feels.. even through the escape. I’m connected to everyone and I’m learning to love everyone but I’m fighting to see through it properly … look at the evils of humanity.. yet still I can’t hate but only learn to love. I was born to love. With you, I guess it’s different isn’t it. It’s every invisible of our spirit, our tied hearts And the hidden things that we never knew could truly be shared. Who can know our secrets? No one. Its our home, it’s you. Does it ever fade, that feeling.. Discerning our walk has been the strangest.. Our darkness with light at the end of the tunnel. I’d love you forever, would you feel the same way? Learning eachother truly in intimacy.. You hardly entering me but learning to Embrace every part of me as I melt into you. I become as you are in my inner me. For its in you that God said I would be found. For love in love.. Us 💚

Dear TaTa Nzambi, Almighty Father God ♡

The meanings of all our perceptions had met..
The dreams a diligent speech of my current. . 
I smile because I hope life has returned to its normality.

Millionaires, Billionaires and Trillionaires have constructed an image of a world that created sadness to my heart. Where was I looking?

My heart swayed by him, my inner being desiring his hands in mine .. my head on his shoulders but my inner being had to many stories. Everything visioned in my eyes was the deepest wound to my path.

Do I wish I embarked it? I believe in me, all things would have been different if only. . .if only.
Innocence in my child, I longed for the sentimental essence of my own for a long time.

I hope it has returned. I saw so many people in my eyes, some I made stories in to survive the attack of my mind – others I had to circulate to be the meaning of me through my own inner eye.
I do long to forget, I hope Love will show me. . I hope Love will hold me gently as I hug it… does Love understand?

Embarking the strangest of dreams, true to interpret my reality, please Heavenly Father .. please say I have woken up.. please say that the game of money is over! All I want to do is sit still in my own green, to just stare at the rain and balance my own sane.

Let my eyes be mine, Let my eyes be mine.
Isit okay to be vulnerable.. to be soft to he.
Am I ashamed of this inner her, I fought for myself.. does he understand that dream?

I long for her inner her not to escape me, but to embrace me. It’s returning to her, that place no one knows neither understands but you The Most High in me and the puff of my incense, the green.

GOD, what did you think of my stories of family ?
How did you take my words of assistance?
I even called some of the renown people of faraway lands family whilst pushing them away..  its something that made me believe if I can create a story to access pieces of my walk to salvation then so be it. . All I can do is let kulture and my scattered me find itself.

Connecting dots, and seeking the meanings to the black of me, understanding the white was an intelligence that already was a part of the whole humanity. Did I arrive to the ball late? I wasn’t Cinderella though, I said a princess.. but its okay, I’m neither. I’m just an element of many strengths and a quietness of my own friend, the loudness of my spiritual dance and the poetic stars of my own heart.

Money is strange, these things are weird. Can Love be true too the point that money isn’t actually such a big of a deal? For some reason, I asked for it but I see the irrelevance of so much things percieved as normality.. all that makes sense is a warm home. Even if I lived alone, to cuddle on the couch and listen to the jazz soul or the sweet wails of the gospel train.

I once had a ghetto gospel, I fought through it and then again and again.
Is love true like I see it, is it possible to be as I envisioned. . Why hasn’t money even become the part I desire to long for, is this normal?

Can simplicity truly exist the way I am.
Tata Nzambi, Father God..

I fought against stories, lyrical words, detangled the pieces of me. I created and saw much..  can I now rest in my inner breath.
  I created visions for relationships, admired others, I criticised the worlds platforms, I remembered the kulture of my people, I fought demons, I cried and cried and cried. I longed not for the things of mankind but to remember the child-likeness nature that could destroy the monsters.

Isit okay for me to be silenced now, with just a little green and not so much? To cuddle my own me, with crystal tears of joy.. freedom from the rich and famous illusion.
    I’m considered a poor, simple folk… get me out of here!!! The dreams suggested I could be more but my inner spirit is just too simple. I don’t want to have to change my color, or worldly position just to believe that I mean something.
Can I just feel a smooth high and look out at the skies in my own home. . Silent night, Holy night
To concieve of my own me.. through my eyes.

    What did you think of me God?
What did you see in me ?

You know I love you so much, for the friend you continue to show me.. you, my dear Heart in all pain, in family and in worldly disaster.

Am I allowed to smile again? Can you please take it easy on me?

I love you Tata Nzambi.. Father God Almighty..

E L L E x

◇●○Elementary○●♡

For all the words I write,

for all the parts inside.

The fire embraces the cool, the system of the rule.

Smokey air inside our eyes, but the echoes are not cries, the heat a hidden time.

Waters told in the flow, waters dance with

the soul. Fall into the movement as it bestows,

the ripples of our holy road. Feeling it through and through, evidence inside the view.. clear oceans without a mist its your heart the beating kiss.

Soil O’Soil did you hear my voice, my medley to the earth’s presence. My beloved soil, you grow not fruits but you smile in my face, the rocks built inside I’m standing amazed. Your root my perceptions still, your stem my foretold inner seal.

The soil is the growth in life, the seeds found in our light . . . Let not it be left alone. You, soil build your throne.

Wind O’wind I beckon you.. Listen,

just listen. . Where are you going?

Where do you seek me out?

You whisper to me, and I’m revealing my needs.

Winds of life, You are naked in me.

Life’s Elementary 🤎

Many Men Kongo ◇

MAMA Kongo, 
Have you heard the mabele weeps. 
Do you know the suffering of our land.
The kingdom was once our spirits 4 elements, 
They portrayed us as the sacrifice...
The strangers and foreigners of pale skin.
WE SAW THEM ENTER IN, WE WELCOMED THEM. 
How foolish we were to play into the trick of money games, how a bag would make us lose love for our royalty and our families.
Why so mama kongo, we were once dancing with our husbands, delighted in the marriage of life.
We became fools for this mundeles words, our men lost their vigour. His strength of cycle was gone, and the reflection which we were had become weak.
Mama Kongo our men were our blessing, our hope and our heart. He was our smile in the rising of the sun. 

Kongo Kongo kongo

Am I the man you love?

Among the men, yes me the chief.

Nazali, isn’t it TATA the master of our life.

I seek to love my heart, but the pain we must travail for our love is to much to understand. We once had our life, we were the calm of spirit and the moonlit of the flowing waters, the mountains range of ever green.

Kongo mountains, Kongo mountains… did you hear our shouts of melody.

Mama look into my eyes, mama..

I’m far away weakened by my position..

I’m firm for your heart is within me.

Motema na bomoi, you are me.

I am pulled away by my own warrior, but I am strengthened by your words of belief in me.

These eyes have seen the walk, my walk has been your eyes. Do not leave me, for I am standing with you. I hold you, my centre.

Ashamed was the face they wore.

His heart remained firm and strong.

Did he fail his people, or did he fail the one?

Her hands were his, their children no longer using fingers.

The men used to forsake that which was their manhood. The deciet entered the region, it manipulated their villages.

Saddened eyes, lost faces and disgust.. yet the white man looked affirmed in character, clear to see that the camera reassured he.

FOR WHO WAS THE MAN?

The one who stood affirmed, or the 3 who carried the cross.. bearing the misery of control but holding the heart of the hand?

MAMA, MAMA, MAMA.

She is among us, she polluted us and taught us their words. Faith was our inner being, and yet still with welcoming hearts we believed the truth of the whites. Mundele that’s what we call them.

MAMA, MAMA, MAMA

I can’t feel my hands, I’ve sought to understand this pain. Why do I feel this mama, mama? I’m so sad, can you hear my cries ? I’m scared mama, I need you to hug me.. these mundele are covered in blood stains.

For the 3 would be one, wherever they were.

where-ever they be.

Our royalty an unknown heritage, a hidden society beyond dreams. The mundele hides behind the others he thinks he can see – but he cannot.

Our loves call is in the reasoning of our hearts. We find the meaning and proceed onwards.

Mama, bear many of us.. Papa look after us in your protection. Both please love us children and give us a beautiful home..

For all love was created to be for all our pain.. to the mysteries and the stories created. Everything had stemmed from the people, the root and the soil…

many men Kongo.

Mz Art

TAR LINO

Theze textile floorz are the water to my eyez.

Are you the cowboy I zought out whilst tantine had to discover the mizzing pieces.

I don’t know the name of the road, but I saw tonton on the buz, & in the kitchen my papa as noir..

The cycle of two brotherz, and the tontonz face who was the watcher of the walker receiving her flowerz.

the tind was the medley to the 800.

The Gin became lemonade.

Like a Cryztal chining on my finger. . I met the couzun again.. I recognized the 3rd born..

The kidz fighting on the road, a nod.. the suon.

I cmell pondu MaMa YaMbai is cooking, the dunda to our inner.

Am I not the makaya, and I cee the brother at the post,

he is gentie’

What happened Tay? The rum was cpeaking to your y-z, as the joy of her voice was flowing in you.. I Called.. or was it you? You asked who I was, do you not know Mariyaya?

The grey recognized the koko, the zcore she touched was the hands bestowed as me.

The ten returned to the slavemaster, I cannot touch it. . . It is you Caballero who is my Lord.

My dearezt friendz, their are no more avenuez, my green has mellowed me, the bud of child-like joy with the Frere Mr.Bram.

The cachet of the rounded matungulu, the cassava leaf Koko Mama Leke would cerve in the market.

The opened field of our family in the KoGo.

What an amor’.

I caw one hold me, cweet hug of myctery. .

El carino, El amado. .

A smile of GG Magz.

The fly was on the window, the bible opened

unto the word from within.

We are all incpired by the Molimo Cantu

The Kins of Forever.

💞