Maybe the world called for peace
in my birth not knowing that my strength
was civilized, lysed on the brain in words.
though my hands look strong and fit, musculated
but my strength is hindered in the braincells.
Hindered by blocks of words that keep on shouting
expel me, infect her while you disinfect him.
I am just a poet
a poet that his is not leg made to burn, space, scatter the world with the word
but to state the statement of harassment, embarrassment
puncture them with solutions, suggestions mandated
to change the world, reposture, reframe though at times I hurt.
I am just a poet
poet filled with lines of love as if I was the first articulation
antibody of love, like a vaccine I depth my lines of remembrances
to propel smiles, tears, laughter’s, grieve
whilst building, rebedding wishes, dreams and hopes with
I deal gas as if I ever knew any as science does in combustion.
I am just a poet
the lines of religion breathed from my nose
are a symbol of how at nature I'm defined,
with no intrigued line of calories, like steam
I envy the thoughts of infected faith; sterilize the wish of defeating those who are
walking on their righteousness. I split acid where no human stand
for the one designed me is above my imagination as I link through his image.
I exhale no love no hatred but solidified thought
of where your faith is stated, placed, conquered and quarantined.
I am just a poet
Under my shoes are footsteps of art “I love poetry"
those steps that make me real, to speak clean and clear
crystal like diamonds reflected along the brim.
I am not a rapper but a raper for I rape your mind
instill on your lost world, intrigue your concentration at my own will
give it no justice rendering it rough with no preparation,
I am the a serial killer for I killed your thoughts, plans and infected you with
my dearest words as the worries, doubts, anger and hatred desurface my your life.
I am a tsunami for in my presence senses are being lost
around my voice hymns with breeze as clouds show shapes fuse with me
for you, happiness written bold and preciously uttered over your face.
I am death myself for as my voice echo along your ears
penetrating the parallel lines in your eardrum they subtract the fossiled imagination
and stimulate tears “for death is just about tears"
I am a poet..........
.........to be continued.....................