WPL - The Writing Performance Labatory

WPL Writing Performance Laboratory writing and arts workshop, entitled “who do you see in the mirror” on Saturday, April 31 2010 at 2-3 will be meet and greet from2- 3:30 workshop starts promptly at 3:30 - 6:30 P.M.
Writers, musicians, artists, and all human beings with a heart in their chest and blood in their veins are invited to come and participate in this meeting of the souls as we attempt to evolve as artists by growing as people, first. Peace, love, and uncensored souls are the name of the game. Contact Rain Maker 201 753 1262 or hit up WPLonline@gmail.com





























































Rain Maker

Rain Maker
Illuminated Magick

in the zone

in the zone
ART EMBRACE

Queen Godis

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Journey Through Sirreal Photography (Impossible is nothing)


As if you didn't know
how i have heaven on my shoulders
i brush of stars and watch how
they fall to the earth and stick
like flies to paper
but my name on this piece of paper
keeps me flyer than comets tap dancing
across the sky
cant help but look for the armegedon
which aint coming
because when i breath i take your
edge off
where divinity on my lips
to be broken down by the masses
its only a quick ear
that can catch my participals
sun burst on the side of my head
is a birth mark when i came
into to being from the universes bang
understand you cannot begin
to come close to my power
black man is the only thing
that resembles my being in this
existence my star
is to let you know i be beyond
mars my voice sounds like
a earthquake lighting bolt
so i might short circuit your
ignorance
put your whole make up
in neon flux
i flow like your blood
boiled in the lynchings
in this feeling so twilight
be the favorite part of my
day reminds me of my mother's
womb
and as if you didn't know
the seventh letter is G
so i be god having fun
in my human form
later today i will probably
play chess with the moons
crators
kiss the ocean and make it swoon
tell oshun i got her number
tell obatila he can only go but
so long before he needs to speak to me
in the mean time
give a high five to the mountains
and write a poem in the sand
then sit and contemplate
admixed the pipes of the city
mo hawk profile my thoughts
hands clasped
in the prayer of my mother's
prayer
i understand that its my breath

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