woke up today

‘The arrivals’ portal codes have been over ridden,
Here’s to my super connection nodes in the stamp of life from which they rendered sober vision…’

Lone-gone-cold-turkey-‘quick-snaps’ clear stand the crackling fire,
Best beat the hearts heartbeat and blow this breath through a longhorn-horn to warn you few and upon call your messiah, chayote grown version of a tame Tarzan stands the harsh outback and sends his cackling laughter… ‘Casual-counters’ consider him a coot brute of no use for he wont save their virgin born captive

‘Woke up today and saw how it comes, it creeps.
It comes in a bottle or can,
To poison the remnants of suns as the children of forgotten man…
Tames the women wild, hearts and all,
And takes rule of the palm of my hand’

A portion of hell took loose late after a ‘so tired’ unsuspecting mother discovered her hard earned papers’ worth in proper possessions was in sorts of stunning waste… the mother stood to momentarily marvel, murmuring moods at the maddening mess in a stupendous and angered state, shelved her marvel in silence, shrugged, muttered a stutter and surely shuddered…

‘I now know who my Mother is, that is; I’ve come to know her person.
I am my Queens physical memory and the blood of my King,
If I come to forget why I’m alive in this vision, and where from my soul has been,
Her struggles strife would surely worsen.’

From this then stuck his hand into one of the sporadically timed spontaneous wormholes to retrieve this tired soul, grounded solid, bound earthly, the tamed Tarzan retired bound for dimensions beyond the minds perceive…

‘She goes by name of Woman, Queen whose Son’s by Fire-hidden,
She goes by name of Daughter and Flame,
She paints her face in Green, Red and Golden stripes…
She calls them Art of Woman.
I heard…
She wakes to cry then blinks to see the thief we eye,
Then wipes her face with black again, to call this Art by Woman.’

Surly some sprites sprout to the amusement of my eyes reflection,
So as to see the bridge of the nose that boards this pass to the grass,
But not what sees the slightly pronounced bridge of their noise soaked thick by the hardness glass hustle, and the illusion that then cracks when they pass…

‘I’ve seen the sky for what it is from where it lies in the west and kept to the rising sun,
Looked in the mirror to see if we were really there, truly here in fear…
Looked if we wished to see, then they looked now you neither see nor hear…’

So after realising his opponents’ move, he reversed time to counter his opponents’ move, only to reverse time again to counter his opponents next revised move without his points convincing prove…

‘Now what’s your perception? Your meaning in Africa that is, not the land I hope… she is a people, those that first came with the memory of God and is by them close to the name of God and that’s the point she proves…’