Convict - a sentenced criminal
politic - judicious, expedient; prudent, sagacious

Samstag, 21. August 2010

Ambitions swell my heart

Ambitions swell my heart,
With no truthful place to explore,
Sun consumed by the dark…
Left abandoned by tides ashore.

With now truthful place to explore,
Sand flattens foam standing still,
Left abandoned by tides ashore
Waves withdraw feeling with its thrill.

Sand flattens foam standing still,
One by one, bubbles burst,
Waves withdraw fleeing with its thrill,
Why does hope hang us with its curse?

One by one, bubbles burst,
Pressed by breezes wanting to know
Why does hope hang us with its curse?
Addicted to the rush of fantasy`s flow

Pressed by breezes wanting to know
Of the recipe stirring inside you
Addicted to the rush of fantasy`s flow
Camouflaged by the problems that divide you.

Of the recipe stirring inside of you,
Constantly thinking getting no stronger
Camouflaged by the problems that divide you,
Going on, when going is, no longer…

Constantly thinking getting no stronger,
Burrowing through life still behind on breath,
Going on, when going is, no longer…
Like a heartbeat itself to death.

Burrowing through life still behind on breath,
Questions come knocking on double locked doors,
Like a heartbeat beating itself to death,
Wanting one more chance, but answers ignored.

Questions come knocking on double locked doors,
Sun consumed by the dark,
Wanting one more chance but answers ignored,
Ambitions swell my heart.

No one hears the cries

No one hears the cries
No one hears the cries,
crawling like dark skies
through purples and blues,
and hating to choose...
thru dilemmas unfamilier to me,
mashing memories, nothing left to see
the replicas of men so far removed...
numb - bitten by frost of justice`s cool
soothe solely, by the souls ugly truth
manchild recruits, forever lost youth,
taunted by pride and replicated hate,
echoes crescendo and never abate...
The nightline battles, rattle my mind,
shackled by misfortune, preventing the climb.
Sniffles...muffled as footfalls retreat,
sunrise reflect, where morning dew sleeps
laying denied, hogtied in the dark
with all that`s part shark and a bit too sharp,
for ears...cause it`s clear my answers are here,
where echoes return, when -
no one hears the cries,
captured by nets inhibiting their rise
facing a fear, so clear to my ear
the years disappear, yet -
no one hears the cries,
crawling like dark skies,
pass purples and blues
and scars I can`t lose...

A Voice...

A Voice...


A voice...
The faintest of breezes,
brushing around objects;
determined not to be deterred,
expecting inconviences.

A voice...
Not yet strong enough,
to pick up its own weight;
though leaves feel it and some are fell;
an ear is gained, the push begins.

A voice...
Creeping low baritones rumble,
pattern of its steps distinguished,
impossible to extinguish,
cause you who oppose don`t weigh enough;

A voice...
Like those echoes once divide,
clearly repeat "NO Retreat" - NONE!
crust and gale truths that tell themselves,
in cycles and numbers that live no lie...

A voice...
like tornadoes that re-arrange,
your revolved resolutions
realities of the sixties,
AIN`T no actuality NOW
so instead of "keeping real",
lets try to keep it ACTUAL...
or at the least,
Relevant.

August 2010

Convict Politic

Convict - a sentenced criminal
politic - judicious, expedient; prudent, sagacious

Manifesto:

C oncrete --- P recise
O pionons --- O riginal
N arrating -- L ofty
V isions ---- I nformative
I n --------- T imeless
C andid ----- I nflexible
T ongues ---- C onvincing

To know is to grow.
To grow is to blossom - to live.
One must secure this opportunity for themself. To aquire mental and moral instruction; and once it is acquired, to appreciate it. Don`t allow it to be taxed, spent, or fined by a foreign someone who plays puppets with your interests.
Education can`t be taken back once it`s received. It can`t be burned or turned into a burden. Unless you decide to neglect it.
Race, religion, nor regret has a soapbox here. Beauty unknown will be undervalued.
Unappreciated, unglimpsed. The slope of my facets, too jagged and flawed. But the fight is within; experience our shield. My body is my protection, confidence won`t let me believe it. Won`t let me believe it is enough. Good enough, to believe in.

My situation is accredited to struggles no one else has had the honor to glimpse naked. So you don`t understand the scars you see. The body of struggle reinforces our souls, gives our will - power.
Inner strength.
Strength that can`t be measured with the eye, from the outside - where the judgers of jewels stand.
Strength that can`t be measured untill the moment calls, its calloused calvary arriving to slay those who may oppose forward flow. Incited by insight camouglaged in our consciousness, enlisted by experience and definately determined.

In all its beautiful depths and softest pains, struggle is worthy of envy. An unaging agenda, to survive inspite. Situations I`ve struggled through, not only became a part of me, but they took me through confusing crossroads that left scars of their passing.
For awhile, I let the scars define me, but the definition of bwauty written across slate - changes at a rate too fast to state. I learned scars don`t make you ugly.
I stopped underscoring the significance of my struggle.
I learned to appreciate it.

I talk about myself because it`s all about you. Take what you can and cultivate it, to fit you.
Struggle, like pressure, defines the dimensions of diamonds from the inside - out.
Think of your inner-self, as a safe, containing all that you cherish. It`s okay that its unknown.
Be the unglimpsed beauty.

Convicted Wisdom
# 771799

P.S. * next Corbin copy : " The Power of One"