JaMeS

In life you sit at the back of the class past by the last, new math you can't pass yet always ready to show yo' ass, alas, shame overtakes you for you dull your pain through daydreams of cash yes – just one big stash – yes – just one big lick and you'll make 'em all sick, quick, so to the illusion you stick just the same – chaos you claim abdicating your name for a chance at the game your spirit you maim fame… forever just beyond reach you're called upfront now to teach your chance for all to see – more importantly for you to show that you do know – dormant seeds once planted eventually can grow to the front you now confidently go… walk that walk… talk that talk… magic wand is the chalk… the teacher you balk just about to bust the convention and open the door to the dynamic dimension… Oh shit! did I forget to mention that in the back of the class they don't pay attention and now that new math is wippin' that ass like staring into the looking glass although easily over 6ft tall you're feelin' real small … tryin to stall … shrinking while you crawl for you can't save both face and ass – as you reclaim your seat at the back of the class.

I am the scion of the solution son to the evolver of evolution whose divine power emanates in elocution casting forth his revolution of absolution birthing the distribution… of sufficient grace to transfigure a race in whose face is found the trace – of the divine… if we but first remind of a time in which the mind was refined where the true Son did shine where materiality was a crime perpetrators punished with hard time sentences served in prisons of closed mind yet… a hope of parole one can find in the following line – sublimely defined: Materiality = shadow behind the back of reality…

Thoughts of anger and frustration caught in a vice like grip… anticipation of desperation blind following the blind into the ditch i trip… 40 days and 40 nights lost in the wilderness at the back of my mind feverently searching for that which i've left behind that which was bequeathed to me and undeniably mine for even the prodigal did return in time his true purpose to find oh seeker of a sign I am the seeker after the same sign sense of self i seek to define toward the prodigal allegory i now incline for you see i've lost my mind yes, i've lost my mind yet i seek to find – to this regard throughout my past i rewind as to that part of me – a pow of the babylonian captivity desperately needing to see repatriation of what i used to be if the sum doth equate to the whole then to be whole is my geometric goal as capitalism steals the communal soul but in the meantime between time i exist in the sublime and wrestle with the cipher that is my divine until i find the key to my missing mind