Honour killing

In my land of liberty, our noses touch the sky
And in our pride we willingly send our proud sons to die
In the obituaries, and with widows televised
We tell ourselves in disbelief that red, white and blue lie
That all of this is righteous and that God is on our side
In the name of freedom send the boys into the fire
And if they make it back at all, make it out alive
We'll wait until they're home to tell them that they lost their wife
Because she couldn't stand to love a man once sent to die
Much less when they came and sent him back a second time
Today when he gets home to the empty rooms, bed and life
He won't even notice 'til the noose is already tied

i just want to say while i love america, there are too many good men and women not coming home in my country's name and i'll be damned if i don't speak on it after what i've been through for it

.:Me and My Ex-Unos:.


http://8020.photos.jpgmag.com/2451615_160057_8dda02e47d_l.jpg


I’m rocked, they rolling
this night we’re out strolling
it’s me and my Ex-Uno’s
these bitches
they some clever ass witches
verified wenches. both of whom had cravings
Ms. Behavings; they had itches
both, they were all about them riches
for a while had a nice flow; good 2Go
on that D-low; you know
used to take care from head to toe
posting up; creating rivers of banks
these two were my favorite skanks
bread winners; some
might call ‘em pro sinners
but naw; they weren’t at all beginners

I was a witness; how I loved this
quite familiar with They Business
though I couldn’t say it wasn’t hard, but
better than being that retard or
placed out in that yard
you know what I’m saying?
no playing; can’t have B’s disobeying
yet them “fab-bricks” started fraying
money gone lost by that misbehaving
that point shaving
each and everything about that
can’t get wit’ that… that kinda thing
that’s always whack

calls for more than a balled up fist
friggin’ anarchy like the wild, wild, west
all that and I still confess; the stress
my life…this life…
who needs a friggin’ wife?
all that strife…so yeah, I peeped the knife
these B’s were trying to cut me outta business
and if I’d slept, I’d surely miss this
used to call one “Carol in The Shower”
the other I called “Kismet”
both used to be my best bet
no fable; kept my stable able
big screen for the sports cable
several rooms all of ‘em discreet
couldn’t be beat…
the spot was real sweet

...and my place?

it was keeping them B’s
keeping them knowing their place
all this while getting that good face
that and that money… yeah, that money
oh how it keeps a rainy day sunny
but naw, I ain’t no dummy
see bitches…they cum and go
wanna party right? I’d be the one to know
big bank, sweet ass-sets counting my dough
maintaining an incoming flow
speed-a-John along ‘till they run outta gas
yet to them; it won’t seem that fast
‘cause my B’s had alotta class
panache and all that jazz
but them bitches should’ve known
cross me, my anger gets full-blown
see. I’m that pathological pimp
run game without a limp

…even onna thin dime the game’s all mine and I get at it full time and..

that’s based on what a bitch can do
don’t know why they couldn’t stay true?
independent thinking?
maybe that’s how things went foul
naw, not allowed…tangles up the rules
must’ve “forgot” they were here as tools
smartass bitches acting out as fools
had other Daddy O’s looking at me strange
maybe thinking I’m some kinda… doused out flames
so out by the lake had to show ‘em my fangs
I left ‘em in that lake like smalltime lames
no-time for them wifey type games
that kinda play got their tenure rearranged





photo: irvin mclovin

Solid. Respect.

Stained

They grew up together
in a small town
there were no secrets
no strangers
amongst them
the sunrise greets
farmers stands
down the street
roasted coffee
perked the air
'saba7 el 7ayr'
as children ran to school
mothers congregated
fathers stole
hour of sleep
till noon

Temptation insatiable
the need irrevocable
mind of the youth
unstoppable
stolen smiles
secret hideouts
sneaking out
after midnight
stolen kisses
hopeful promises
moonlight callings
bodies yearning
two red poppies
oscillating

Religion?

Love transcends all
an unstoppable
force
be assured
united
love conquers all

Family distorted
honor disgraced
neighborhood's chatter
in disarray
father raging
mother crying
kids fearful
of their own
destiny
the shame
the blame
the stamp of stain
a family
mortified
beyond repair

A tumbleweed rolls
over on
an unmarked grave
unclaimed
unattended
bare
grey

A forgettable
mistake

WE are "Middle Class"

She was innocent ,
But not fair cent percent ,
She deceived Her ward ,
For which She get a reward.

Her fault is the one ,
That She disagreed to become a NUN ,
As She well known  aware of the plight ,
The Scene of Church which made her fright.

That was One fateful day ,
when She entered by mistaken ,
And the God's child were indulged ,
In that crime which was forbidden.

She again and again was explaining ,
To Her guardians the same ,
But They were bounded ,
under the society's fame.

At last She succeeded to fly ,
as Her ambitions were very high ,
But the fate made Her trapped ,
And unluckily She was gangraped.

She had no other option to be back ,
with a blanket around Her neudity wrap.
But the eyes She wished to be sympathize ,
were changing instantly to get Her recognize.

No more ambitions....no more faiths ,
and now its time to allure Her with bait ,
A cold Drinking poisonous water served in a glass ,
on the pretext to be a Middle Class.

      Drug Laws

Why do we still live in
A country where pot is still
Illegal, but they push opiods?

Only because they can
Tax their pharmaceutical lies
And get rich off fucktards

vizard..will be back with one for this, so much burning thing out here

      :Silence:


Either way it holds the truth

Like the two eyes, in one vision
You close one, you do see
Shifting angle planes
Subtle missing blocks
Partial dimming lights
   make all the difference

Honour of what, cannibalistic huntsmen species?
Your animal instinct genes boiling in Brownian motion
spurting out with lethal weapons of cruelty to yours own?
So, for the Holy Mother, Shakti and the Shiva’s sake
Don’t call it so...the Killing for Honour
It sounds better as the ir-ritualistic killing for your crazy cult’s bloody sacrifice

The other side of the coin turns with a meaningful twinkle too
Yes, your stinking flesh stocks with the unused divinity within
You are indeed killing your dignity and humanity
       for a deep burial of your senseless brittle skull
       for a clinical wipe out of the balance, the bonds
Heinous designs heedless to calls of love  and fraternity
Floods of your wolverine sword lying there in discrete bundle of values
       in decapitation, in decimation

Authorities taken on behalf of your color-beliefs never survive
However powerful, massive lobbies you gather in their blind cause..
History’s witness now and again
the hatred and the holocausts, the violence of the minds
Pages of the fanatics with tactics and antics are in blemish

Flourishing starts with the self
Being in nourishes of peace..that silence