We are awake in the process of memory,
Our conscious minds able to remember the feel’s of yesterday,
today and what is to come in hope..and what we are when asleep.
The lovers experience was created by us, by we and our hidden desires.
Every memory was a passion of want, every imagery a conscious understanding of
What we wanted to create.
But why should we want, if it is ours already?
It is real only because you know how you feel and you never let it go away.
I remember you because every part of me could sense what you do.
Every part of me feels what you feel, because it is my inner wish – To Love and Be Loved.
If everything we were was bound in memories, then discovering the places
Where reoccurrences have no effect within would be the place
I would not fathom, with you.
A place with no pretense, a place of silence where our souls are flying in the wind of being.
The heart beat reassured my knowing that all is defined in the heart of everything we do,
Everything we are, everything we say and do not say.
Here, me and you.
You took me with you as I took you with me . .only to relive what we always knew,
What we understood was to happen before we can understand and see ourselves.
To remember remembrance and embrace memory to cure the ache in ourselves.. and let the memory deflate into open-ness, the vast eternal space.
If everydays world is an illusion, then what are we?
If your eyes stood still in mine, and you walked away in your own path
Then what was our still? Did you reinvent your stillness the moment you left my presence,
Did you have a renewed heart the moment you felt the intensity of mine and yours together?
Love struck us in the moments we didn’t believe it could, we did not know the time or the hour,
Like a thief in the night – the dragons revealed it-self and the bats flew in the darkness looking for settlement but there were none.. just the nightmare in the locked remembrance of memory.
I asked if you remembered me because I remembered you. I looked into you and saw me,
I saw the part of me that was left unsaid. I looked away from you because I saw the part of me in you that I held onto so tightly that I refused to let go and give it away. I was left in your trance as you drove away because I remembered what it was like to have you enter into my life, as I helplessly watched you leave.
Memories haunted me, I never forgot them. They were reminded to me but you were the biggest memory that held up my system. . but I knew it would and I knew the moment I looked up and saw you. I knew my time and your time was away, it was never here.
Love has us questioning, looking and searching..asking and knocking.
It proves to us it is not just our actions in the law of life but the design of our innate nature that allows us to summon our intimate selves in the many others.
Walking away and forgetting couldn’t be the answer, and allowing it to be a romantic cliché was the forbidden fruit.
Every word spoken is not just the creation of many but of us, the one’s who deeply did see
And that One who held me.
Romance, passion, desire, intimacy. . . you look at me and know
All those things already without touching me, what can you know when your with me.
No one can know, not even we can.
Is this our firmness, Is this our patience?
That what we know has always been done but what we have is our secret
Not discovered by men but by our spiritual stature, where God dictates each spirit his
capacity for one-ness with another.
The mind desired you in the parts of my soul that I refused to let go of, the part I held on to. . yes. . .you were the heart of the mind.
It seemed as if hallucinated I was the crime, secluded in this insomnia ride, whether challenged or in the peace. . the insomnia was there for me to face.
You was never far away from me, you was there on the scene’s just like me.
Watching and observing all matter but being reintroduced to the science of infatuation, romance and want.
That was never enough for you, never enough for me.
The sacredness of the Spiritual essence within us knocked in Spirit – it rebounded in us.
You say you love me, should I believe you.. even if you know that nothing was ever new under the sun.
That this feeling and reason met together and produced a flame so intense that death
Could not reach it’s heights, because resurrection purified it’s sight.
Can I believe you love me?
Can I believe you genuinely can see me as I see you – your not what you think you are,
And neither am I. The soul’s interpretation enables nothing new to be under the sun,
So what do we do?
What do we do when we understand this observation, what do we become.
You don’t want to mention it, or express it.
I feel that you don’t want to express it in the open before men but only in our sacred place.
I wouldn’t know what it means would I.. I’d just believe it, in it’s truth.
What a spiritual high of life we have recognized, being not new but sanctified and
All that is left is this space, you look in my eyes with peace.. And you don’t look away.
I should be shy but I can’t be, I look into you and this intimate space is locked in us both as we
Are stilled by the presence of the spiritual world circulating our trust.
You told me, don’t tell no one what we are because what we are is for us alone.
I told you I won’t let it go, or let it slip away because doing so would destroy our home.
What no ears have heard, what no eyes have seen is our experience as we tread this intimate one-ness together. You hold me even when I cannot feel your arms, I kiss you even when you cannot see my lips.
How did God create such beauty that we ourselves are lurking in it’s mist and not discovering it’s true secrets for ourselves?
You have taken the step, your heart spoke in the fire as you held my tears with compassion.
One is what we shouldn’t let go of, it’s what we are bound to in all eternity this is our vow..
And in this vow I see this One, and you see this One.
We are both silent in our yearn, even close together no one can stand the heat.
There are many mysteries to us, in our secret only we can discover them
Me and You.
Divine He and Divine She.
The power seemed to repeat itself, a lonely shell in the desert, particles of sand laying in the midst of its curve, of it’s home in it’s dark inner swirl of life.
It was never a fairytale, even though they would of wanted it to be. Why did this black love carry so much weight of passion, pain, suffering, manipulation and betrayal? Some things never change.
Her I was the only part understood through the cycle, the part that waved goodbye at the world many years before, to wave goodbye twice over again. His I was the only part he claimed never changed it was looking for the calm of his inner being.
Invisible in a world of form, visible in the realm of the universal heart and roaming in the soul’s calls from the beginning of it’s time.
Both their souls, he and her imagined a complete different world from which they dwelt in, but the memories of generations of enslaved minds, hardship and the strong blood of cries left un-noticed spoke from the dark insight they held.
The world would deceive them if it could, the world would portray many paths in them even manipulate their hearts if it could, destroy them in which it did, but it always could be rebuilt. Over and Over again this black love was the core pain of the world’s distant memories, replayed in the street corners as the hip hop story begins in the young man who looks at the young woman from the part he keeps closest to him.
Affection in the places they both cannot express, the atmosphere of societies programs constantly being a burden in their inner fight. What more of their skin did the earth want, so many layers and shades of torment but passion and desire burned the struggle into letters of emotional stories. He never lost her, he could hear her screams, she was his cries.
Quiet eyes, calming presence – when it’s taken away your thrown into the depths of the underworld, where are they both they question. Who do we belong to, do we belong to eachother ? Why can I feel you and see you, this is not a dream – they murmur. They have taken me away from me, and made you hate me. Are we not the same, they whisper in their darkness in order to spring forth a light of existence. The mystery in the ongoing cycle of a black love, that is misunderstood among many men, but viewed as the worlds circus. . their entertainment. . their exploitation, their investment, their control. . Anything to stop it’s manifestation. It had to be black, it had to be dark so it can enter the light.
How can any other race understand the struggle of this pattern, how can they see the inner destruction and miseries of an ongoing broken structure and smile into us, it is taken away from us, played on us, divided among us.
Maybe the saxophone is in our soul, long notes and melodies of our fiery pain felt in the blood, sweat and fierce tears of another mans world – and then the insight of our own. How could she ever love him, how could he ever love her when history repeated itself taking him away from her over and over again.
Would she have to beg for this in the same undying passion, and would he search in his secret prayers and straight face.
They would never understand. . . those outside looking in – trying to be it, trying to achieve in it, to be a part of it. The inner part smiles, somehow we are all one, the world – the atmosphere – the people. . but this black love uniquely stands prestige in it’s quiet right- it’s suffering forsaken but risen into a promised birth-right, always warring continually and it never stops because if they can have what we have. . they would be the greatest – maybe even something we couldn’t imagine but instead they appear to be great wanting every part of us, and without our hidden power how could they enter into our worlds and even invent their own.
You see, it was always us. We were the diggers, the insight, the feelings and universal flow of our own breath in the community of heaven.
It never left, It never disappeared.
I always loved her.
I always loved him.
We were time travelling.
I saw 8 again.
He was joking with me,
he called me by a name
that I knew from a long time ago..
It wasn’t a name I recall on the earthly plane.
It was a nickname, 8 made me giggle..
he knew just how too. He did it purposely
to try and reveal something. I was remembering.. but it kept slipping away.
Then he turned into a little boy..
and suddenly he disappeared.
3 people out of nowhere came
and put a barrier between us.. and
he tried to get to me … I tried to get to him
but the people were so tall.. they pushed us apart. . .
he suddenly disappeared and the scene changed.
Who were you 8? Who were you. . . because
your no longer here. You returned back to the world of old.
I was doomed the moment
you saw my eyes.
The moment you saw me float
in the atomsphere unripe.
She sat in the coffee shop smiling at the passers by as she watched life being seen by all. Her inner essence sat stilled wondering on the Love past.
Her soul was stilled and the passion jolted in her body as she was startled by a presence behind her. She slowly turned around, there stood a young man.. his skin complexion lighter than her brown cocoa skin, his hair had defined curls and his cheeks hugged into his facial bone structure.
“Hi” he said, looking straight into her.
“Hi” she replied, confused..nervous and taken aback by his presence alone.
He seemed to know her presence more than she knew his. He stood there staring into her, the cafe was near enough empty and an elderly couple facing the outter windows sat speaking to eachother lovingly.
“Can I sit next to you” he asked calmly.
He sat down in the chair not taking his eyes off her, and she was beginning to feel a heavy knot in her core.
‘Who the heck was this guy’ she thought, his stare digging into her womb.
He seemed mysterious but very much as herself – pulled away but still there.
I guess it takes one to know one.
“I saw you from across the road, your elegance spoke to me – who are you” he said.
She smiled.. and looked outside the window,
“I’m She, and thankyou for your compliment”
He turned to look out the window,
“Life is a mystery isn’t it, our twists and turns. The insights and questions the whole gathering of what we are. . the hidden things it seems so secretive so scary doesn’t it”
She turned to look at him.
‘Man this guy is definately heavy’ she thought assessing his lips and his neck. .
For one second she wanted to wrap her hands around his neck but not squeeze it.. to just hold it. She widened her eyes quickly before she would get carried away in imagination.
“What makes you see so intimately in Life” she asked looking back out the window.
This time he turned and smiled at her, his mouth gasped a little.. loud enough for her to hear him taking a breath. . she continued to stare at the window.
“People like you. . the rareness and hope to meet people like you. When you just know intimately theres a deep secret connection they feel and want to share. . hidden in there own shadow with another. I have desired what could tear me into me, what could look into me deeply and then unmould it and mould it again with me and in me. That intimacy that can make me cry and make me weak but make me strong for us both but for the truth. Its something you want to share but cannot be done if you do not stop and look”.
She had tears in her eyes as she continued to stare out the window.. refusing to look into him.. her heart pulled at the grace in his words. He noticed her strong presence heat and his heart was pulled into her, as he felt his own beat.
They sat in silence.
He looked out the window too.
“Whats your name” she asked.
He put his head down,
“I’m He, the one you know ..the one you thought of secretly in you. The one you pondered on but pushed away because of fear of getting to close. I’m he.. the one who knows you in ways you never imagined because I discovered you as you discovered me. I felt you just as you felt me. I’m he, the one who doesn’t let go easily the one who recognizes myself in another just like me. I’m he the one who understands her.. just her because she is me, and I know she exists. . I believe she does but it scares me, because I know what it could do to me. I’m He, the one I know ..you know. . the one you truly understand even without words. The one who could make me feel things deeply that no one else could, the one who could break me in the lowest parts of myself and I’ll still hold on, because its not you.. it’s me. I’m he.. i’m you, and you already know that truth.”
She moved her hand to touch his knee, the feeling of her hands sent electric shockwaves throughout his body he instantly stood up and hugged her. His eyes looking dim and tired as if crying – but I guess he knew his soul had enough faith to recognize himself and to reveal himself from his purest being ..what he thought he couldn’t do. . . but he knew she would understand. . He knew she wouldn’t reject him.
He knew some-how she would grasp the truth even it it seemed crazy, if it made no sense. As long as he could tell her the truth. . He would be safe to himself again.
Tears won’t heal my mystery anymore..
I smile alone on the sea shore.
The sand doesn’t say hello to me anymore..
i’m swimming in the snow with the sun as my door.
To be growing into this woman would only be the suffering of me, to be sharpening my sword would mean taking the steps on the edge of glory.
The daunting prospects of all we are, is the silent parts of our beings. . where your inner child silently whimpers at the after effects of a tragic event. . it feels like I’m on lent.
The mountains survey our beings, the grace of Yah washes my soul.
I put my faith in God alone that he will firm my whole. I push forward with gratitude, knowing that Love will empower me.
I push forward knowing Love has granted me, all that spiritually belongs to me. .
That the riches of character will build from within me.
I dance inside, my heart is glaring.
I dance inside, my eyes are staring.
I dance inside, forever caring.
Hot spices and wild berries.
Chocolate ice and vanilla cream.
Fruity fleur and almond milk.
Sweet mangoes and condensed silk.
Fleeting moments of desire and touches of the supreme.
It is an electric vault, a silence in a tree.
Bound by vows or flying in the breeze are these mysterious wild animals a certified tease ?
The school of art, pictures of a scene where man is a vaga bond.. and woman a disease.
Marked by the pleasure of entering your home and to insightfully see, that your whole is an embodiment of seeds.
If the potatoe chips are crunchy and icepop fizzles a high.. why should I sit my naked soul staring into the sky?
If the lure of your heart is the fall of my trance, then i’m just your emotion waiting to be enhanced.
You have stopped my deluded self but yet silenced my feet, I’m forced to stop looking in the brustle of the bleed.
Innocence seeming to be an indigenous nature, derived from the invisible. . . the nodding of the head a melt into the permissable.
Some rooms are dark and others bright but theres a room which stands unseen but holds a twinkle insight.
Gravitating on the sidewalk, illuminating in the sea. . . a roll on the natures bliss with a pause of the God in glee . . .
the angels prepare a table of contents and fullness of delight. . I silently stare awake in the beloved rhyme.
The wheels on the bus travel on the road, round and round they go – you don’t understand the meek surrender of a sailing salve. To look into you again, is a stain of my knees… I hurt myself in disgust, you truly made me weak.
You are the forbidden one, the cause of despair.. as you linger in pride your salt is not fair. You flavour it all seemingly good and seemingly bad, but you oh son. . you don’t recognize your the defined chad. . a douche, a vulgar disgust to my stomach a sickening feel to my intestines. . I know your secrets you can smile but I have silently seen.
Diligently speaking you was a spy, a sparkle of passion through the eyes.. you was a potent mercury and I a divine crime, universal chairs was the unrefined signs.
Oh ancient.. ancient.. the blood in our veins. . oh holy oh holy I cry to be and not profane – the sacred temple hallucinated by your lust you are the congress ..I the gust.
The archbishop of souls you claim to be. . but you oh sickening man hide in the priest.
Are you not the truth? Are you not the bold.. what happened to your loving soul.
It is your unidentified play that caused my deray, you were the sinner that hallucinated my smiling gaze. . . yes your mist assuredly knew this crush was a good game. . one with a hush that you thought could crucify my in sane. The mystery is that you wanted to be the one whom appeared innocent but you fell just as much as I – you misled my heart and you became a lie!
I remember you, very very well. . . it was like my soul was near a dualed spell, if I got close i’d only explode or maybe see your stupidity and your hidden, and dark persona unfold.
Should I say I’m perfect or should I be a slave to my hearts speed? I entered a world of sin and mistakes came in this portal of hungry gins wanting to feed.
It is all a drama released, a religion of your deeds. . a seagull in sea in air. . but the balance returns to the lovers glare.
You think you know but really have no idea that the soil is the governor, a seat for all seers.
Now is it . . you. . me or us ?
Either way your the door to my love.
They say sweetness is of the word.
My words may have taste, you choose to swallow it, whether the seasons and flavours are the …pauses and the breaths you take inbetween.. it’s on you to decide.
My love for him is residing somewhere in which it cannot hide. I guess the fear somehow kept reminding me of the worst it could have been.
I don’t know what you expect of a waterfall that runs inbetween the skies and the green grass. The waterfall that brushes against your skin and runs into your blood.. why do you remind me of me.. why must I stop and feel to squeel at the thought of you.
I pant, and am breathless and other times I look away from the space I find myself sharing with God.. at the thought of you I am pushing away but pulling within too.
I slowly resuscitate my heart when I lose it in thought of you, a quick glance in my memory and i’m trying to fast forward.
To get away is impossible, I just want to stay silent but it’s not what I can do. . This was not a fantasy, my interpretation of my hearts soul was the judgement seat of a luminous surrender.
I look at myself and still see her.. me.. but I’m reminded of he too. He was the solitary soul of his world, abiding in a power that was the presence of strength to everyone else.
He was my strength. He was the one in which word flow was forced to embed a mystery that word itself began before all in all was within it.
His heart was my hope, due to his souls reflections taking its time to survey me.. I wish I could survey he.
To stare into his eyes for a while would hallucinate me or may chase me away. I can’t be seduced by you, it would only destroy what I see is true. Was I meant to forget you?
If I was, I’ve tried.
I’ve given all that I can, what more can I give.
The deepest parts of ourselves come from understanding.. its a part of us we all find difficult to express, the part where realization meets an opening of an awareness in a intimate place.
Would you truly understand the ins and outs of a spiritual depth of a person? Would you see it for its true nature. The recesses of its tent abiding in an unseen force yet present.
Uniquely our own existence, our presence.. our insight, our body.. our everything in everything.
I don’t want to rush to give it to you, the secret home but I desire to know you.. the intimate knowing, the knowing which allows you to see a part of you that goes un-noticed.. the part you try your hardest to pay attention to. . would you really understand?
I want to cover my face in embarrassment, maybe it’s too much. It’s too much to care.. about someones hidden place to want to touch it and feel it without truly touching it physically.
*** I’m looking at you now in my mind, and I wanna tell you . . I care about you on levels you don’t understand, but believe me. . just believe me.
It is true.