It was like a vision upon my head,

I was before a throne I’ve never seen,

faraway in a place still unknown,

with changing faces, silently waiting,

they were all in a single file,

Words are either a weapon of war,

or an instrument of peace.

Read, listen, consider,

then you may speak.

Isaac Slimx
July 2009

Don’t get me started nor take this lightly,
Lest you see my lightning flash,
I feel energized like a quiver,
Darting and flying, striking and shrinking,
Not minding where I may be treading,

Everyday we wake up,
we try our make up,
and fail to look up,
cuz of bills to pay up.

Like a sailor we deck up,
stack the poker cards up,
pray we catch up,
still nothing shows up.

Your sorrows may not disappear,
Still trouble lingers on and on,
Success may have elude you,
But I say that’s not the end of road,
Cuz all the things you’ve lost to time,

Everything may mean nothing,
Nothing can be something,
Something may be one-thing,
One-thing can be all-things,
All-things may turn into everything,
Everything is likely anything,

Staring at this phantom freedom,
which I have built like a kingdom,
much larger than the super dome,
with bricks of poison and tantrum,
lacking real architectural wisdom,

Amazing disgrace brought amazing grace,
For through injustice met out to him,
Justification and sanctification is mine,
And through His brutal murder without the gate,

A place of joy and pleasure,
Where pains nor hurts exists,
its all over around us,
why look for it afar?

When I meet the homeless laying,
In freezing cold on planks and boards,

Happiness is never really seen,
Neither can it be measured,
Yet it’s a treasure of nature,
Free to humanity living in vanity,
Happiness is pure and pleasant,

A dog eat dog world,
no other name is better,
cuz human rights is a misery,
justice for the highest bidder,
me first, myself last and I in the middle.

Them that knock, knock forever,

In the beginning of times, I mean in the days of my infant,
the ‘Me’ was the ‘I’ and the ‘I’ was the ‘Me’, through thin and thick

I don’t know why, please tell me why,
Babies are being born upon the legs of girls
that give no crap about their welfare, or wellbeing,
yet millions are barren, longing for their little ones,

You alone can feel my pains, you alone know about my tears,
You alone know how I feel, you alone know why I’m vexed,

In the beginning of times, I mean in the days of my infant,
the ‘Me’ was the ‘I’ and the ‘I’ was the ‘Me’, through thin and thick