Leslie Smith =Yani Aseisis
"The Seer "
When Mother speaks through me I have thousands of eyes. Seeing into the hearts of mankind twinkling like star homes and light shelters that protects us from the hands of time. My depth is blacker than 100 midnights minus the cypress swamps. The bumps and bruises of this prophecy are badges changing with the seasons like leaves on a tree. But I never leave because I AM ROOT....... I AM FREE..... I DIDN'T CHOOSE THIS PATH THIS MOTHAFUCKA CHOOSE ME...... Rocka by baby on this tree top the diamond eye of illumination got me vibrating so high I don't go no roof top. Journey me, journey see. For things are always what they seem. Inside the glorious place where tine does not exist... The multidimensional directions from my Father stay in my head like that hook, 🎶 "Look at da flick of the wrist "🎶 I HAD A BABY, I GAVE BIRTH TO THE LION OF JUDAH. HE WAS IN MY BELLY. MOTHER BLESSED ME AND I CARRIED HIM ALONG WITH THE VISIONS AND THE MAP OF ETERNITY I STAY.
In the beginning was darkness and the spirit of My father moved upon the face of the waters until he spoke my mother's house into light and then I was able to see. Let freedom ring and all angles sing. I am a seer or don't you believe..................... Artwork by @energyisgod
"..Pollyanna Sana ve mutluluğa yazılmış mektuplarıma Cevap beklediğim zamanlarda.
Benim bir köyüm olmadı. Hiçbir şehir karlı sokaklarıyla bana Pazen gecelik giymiş bir anne gibi sarılmadı. İstanbul’u evlat edinsem Benimsemezdi nasıl olsa otuz yaşında bir anneyi Yüzyıllarca yaşamış bir çocuk olarak. Mütemmim cüz olamadım hiçbir aşka.
Bir kitaba bir cüz olamadım.
Yukarıdan aşağı, yedi harfli battal boy bir intiharı denedim.
Hiçbir bulmacayı tamamlayamadım.
Bir kediyi okşasam ellerim yumuşardı
Biri okşasam bir yumuşardı.
Bire “BİR” olamadım.Fırfırlar olmalıydı oysa hayatımın kenarında Pollyanna
Kırmızı puanlı bir şiir olarak uyumalı, mor puanlı
Pişman olmamalıydı orada olmalarından yeşil farbelalarım.
Bir çingenenin çıkardığı dil olmalıydı şiirlerim.Sana bu son mektubu,
Artık senden mektup beklemediğimi söylemek için
son şiirini yazmaya cesaret edememiş bir şair olarak."
Can you love the battle scars that reside upon her temple? Can you celebrate with her in the victory of those scars and help her feel proud to have received them? Can you grace her imperfections with sweet kisses that melt her into your love? Can you speak words encompassing of beauty and confidence into her mind? Can you present her with knowledge that the antonym for the word "scar" is "perfection"? The elevation of your Goddess is in the most simplistic of actions. So tell me...Can you? #mypoetry#poet#blacklove#love#goddess#king
I hear my ears whisle
I hear my name uttered
My struggle my glory
My heart my DNA my story
I see fog fume tongues
of widows and loved ones
I see skin lips linen wool plastic burning feathers with acid
midnight flowers spill venom into smiling numb ghosts
Words of wander words of love
Words of judgement hein..
Words of hate words of luck
Words of promise as I fail
words of passion as I don't care
I feel the intensity of their electrifyng vibrant speech
Caressing my neck with a doves plume spiders and scorpions
Burning nails clashing under forbidden melting rotten flesh
Saliva taste so sweet in their exquiste well rounded mouth
Squeezing the light out of eyes
Watching the fruit becoming charnu from the touch it's ripe
I can almost feel their invisible
breath go and come back
like models on a fashion set
Let my name dance on their pores all in all white inside the sclera drawing the contour of aura the color of their iris
Mating with their perfumed accent and their pronunciation
Let these words travel their path
Transform into an owl on their bed watch them in their coma
plant them in their freedom
The source of creation and nature truly loves us and they never turned their back on us and even now through all that's going on they welcome us back with open arms to be loved and healed by them, this is the true story of the prodigal son, one love .
Jithe ramli ti, tithe visava ge tu. Sarya varsha halka huan mokla ho tu. Bagshil tu revati ahe vindyatalashi. Kalya nayanvar shubrha janu ti nakshi.gauri saboti madhe disel janu tu vasundarecha stan! - kavi Aditya kakade. (writing marathi kavita after so long) (pls comment if you like my kavita) - photo - nixon. Mahabaleshwar, arthurs point. #photography # passion #mahabaleshwar#photography of India #incredibileindia#writer#poem#poet .