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Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Cipher 111 ~ Pay Attention: Listening Lessons ~ Watch the Thorn Vs. Watch the Throne: The Mitishamba Series.

With tension, need I mention that paying means there’s a buyer willing to forgo attention and be paid to listen to whoever seeks its treat? Mine spans the lengths of a bootleg tape that’s decked to become something worth purchasing that if my attention is being paid for means my ears don’t come free, freak! I’m freer now that I can clearly see strings being tugged and manipulated to produce their desired result of making a mind that downs its own tree, streak. Monotony of guised dons these cold feet see more miles on broad streets than the fairy tales that line its world’s needs, reap. Except what’s really sowed are its hateful themes that draw leaps but bound from being realized since they are still working to cage a flightless bird’s seed from walking as seen, trip. Never meant to fall though or falter since my steps glide on mortar, unhinging bricks carrying menial rodents that want more tar to keep them hiding their weakness behind one screen, preach. Discourse discarded like garbage I sit on its pile’s edge and soak up its stench earning mileage like my flights are united on one page, Grinch. Double up from ten up I put three down and flip peace signs with my trigger finger keeping their attic class fcukin honest, Finch. One shot, Six strays, flinch and see if you are not roasted with the movements of seas that has their present chained currents in Shekels coasting but freedom with me comes from the insides of my forests of fortress that their thoughts think they can image in pity while working in desperate to earn any sight or see, breach. “Jah Jah see dem, dem a come, but I and I a conqueror,” my cultured love birds fire warning sings while I open seams that hem the cloaked self-wanting-to-be-determined bastards that use another to labor like their mothers have twelve months to produce what another does in multiples of three without any need for saviors on bells, screech. No screaming just witness the leech as they tug for war thinking terror can make a warm blooded animal become scared of its own skin, leach. Trickling venom with pain in its intentions why suffer from a scaled and skin shading animal that has never been able to grow its own feet, mint. Imprints in casts now outing from closets with skeletons that have voices advocating for anything that can be purchased like all are brave enough to even muster the courage to change scenes from their street broads that never narrow, ditch. I’m v-necked, conveying luggage that sits well without water’s damage and pitch tents in orders of carriages that empty its three bags fooled, stitch. Threading haystacks with needling speeds but not for bail funds as seen in their economies’ needs revealing jailed hands, why stamp my food when you never once toiled as one to grow some, bitch!! Inorganic barks that thrive on missionary styles with midgets in tow like there’s a constant need for her camel toed bunions, clit. Horny kids in closed positions hiding things in soundless diction like only those that can read provide the correct direction, so where to Laz-E boys since you always in need of offering instructions, steep?! Yea, my verticals are tremendous and suddenly even earth wants my tremors but rhythms with me come from no one but my knowledge within on what's expensive, so why purchase only dreams unless you also want to make my think come cheap?! Listen up, yea you down there, your attention I’ve bought so wind down your talk unless you also want me to turn Ishmael beast with my blue collared walk, crip. Full blood that can drain your star lacking theme in simple Swahili for talking to any of my trees bila adabu, as my color coded schemes will leave you guessing on who really is Bin.a.damu so just stop your lessons from grave dig and for once let the dead sleep. Listen, I lesson in greed and turn up the heat to separate good from your deeds that always come begging for leaves thinking you can plant life unseen so I creep, its just me exchanging your hate for some TLC.


Mitishamba
“Listen I Lesson in Green”   

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