Curing Insomnia . .
A pitch black room, but im not asleep or in my bed
Cause my adrenaline is rushin’ and I got songs in my head
I havent slept in days, so I hit the parties and clubs
Smoking cigarettes, and drinkin’ a couple bottles of suds..
And to wake a little sick, shit, never strikes my mind
Cause I’ll never have to wake, if I never close my eyes
Im the life of the party, my energy is radiant in my skin
And I havent slept in weeks but I still got attraction
All the ladies are just dancing… grindin’ on top my lap
We can just kiss and talk, you know ill call you back…
We‘re tired but awake, and I know you can now feel it too..
Cause im still an insomniac, but can I sleep with you?
Don't bode too well with night time, my abode is never no life line
if the benefits in my edifice kept me alive, I wouldn't be galvanized
Into this state of suspended suspended animation, session allocated
to that park bench 10 minutes away, I stay to question my patience
Untill the tension is wasted creatively embracing scene inspiration
that comes face to face with this man mistaking dreaming for pacing
Envisioning the empyrean and tranquil regions between gleaming stars
watch this space till the colours change and there my intrigante parts
A new day is conceived and once again another dusk goes without sleep
I don't know why and even the voice of reason has prose in its speech
Always awake and I believe my bed has become the most unvisited place
since space- back in the 1800's when hunches and pistons were quaint
It appeared like it was settled
but it was not!
the disaster grow, & our relation was unsettled
the important things were left unsaid
As i fall back into my bed & lights low
lighting up another sigaret..
as my head turns towards my window `
looking up into this dark black sky
seeing your reflection in the darkness
& as a tear escaped my eye ..
I grapped & hold on tight to your shirt
you left it here the last time..
when love between us had accured..
Bright eyes is playing low..
& his voice & the beat passed me by
like the time this night..` so damn slow
I am just spinning in my bed,
complicated thoughts,
& a failure of protecting myself leaving me imbed
It drives me crazy, what am i to do ..
My concerns growed bigger towards this problem and the solution thereof..`
resulting into an excessive usage of ..`
Alcahol & weed, .. trying to delete selective memories
yet it has no use, this insomnia keeps victorious
& effecting me in several degrees!
In my spare time at night..when my eyes are in a weary state..
I start to visualize a females sight..then I begin to masturbate..
My forearms grow with every stroke..after my palm start to soak..
But relatives figures start provoke..my minds state after every choke..
Don't make this in a laughing matter..this is an insomnia induced problem..
Acting when thoughts scatter..my frustration is a force completely solemn..
I hope for maybe a time to rest..close my eyes hopefully at best..
Instead I'm attacked with visions of, old ladies and incest..
Why does my head attack me?!.. what is the main reason?!..
Is it my other choice for relaxed glee..or is my mind in plain treason..
But the reality of it..this isn't the affects of my insomnia disease..
The normality of it..is that when I couldn't sleep I wrote this piece..
Beat boxin’ vibrates lungs like base and chase repercussions of the Insomniacs
Hip-hop will never find it's relevance when portrayed as malevolence
Find that knowledge that ranks supreme and fulfills dreams and you will find truth
Our mind going off on tangents connecting with currents followed through like commandments
Microphones enhance voices and echoes meanings of the word,Go forword
and rewind turntables with fatal intent that leave dents in that univer`soul Insomniacs
The Insomniac being that of common sense and benevolence
Follow our crowd with loud proud and smile then try to figure out the Insomniacs
Our children in the slum village will fall victim to life’s pillage the unspeakable acts
How can you question our asylum our blue moon and where we are from
You live for free`dumb but it never comes when voices hum accepting crumbs for fun
.........................
The root of the matter is thereafter Skipping final chapters...
ever since I was a little boy
I have needed a release
something for my boredom to decrease
on the night's that I'd lose sleep
over superficial things
homework, toys, and pretty girls
I needed something to take me
away from this shitty world
and the paper beckoned hence
and I came without asking
the margins were so immense
that they seemed to be masking
their devious intention
to mould me into this written being
by fighting my insomnia
they made me search for deeper meaning
in the pen scratches
letters, numbers and punctuation
cooking up fresh batches
of lies, false hope and fake elation
and my eyes will not shut
they dry out and lose their sight
because I lost myself to poetry
on each one of those sleepless nights.
I'd watched the news; scattered throughout unkempt emergencies. .
Was something to sleep for, therefore my sense of urgency
Would evolve. . A lonely night, no reason that I visited sorrow
Except to enhance the lasting effects for the gifts of tomorrow
I longed for the sun - a morning where I'd assume a graceful rise
And shake the spacious rays and colours that illuminate my eyes
It was late. . But next dor, a foot was tapping the brashest tune
Which echoed in my pulse as I wandered a labyrinth of avenues. .
Internally - I flicked on the tube where zealous lobbyists frowned
The TV set lit the bureaus and headboards of mahogany browns
Symbolically: flick it off, I envisioned the prospectives we hate on
And drempt in brown, a colour serving as the world's collective liaison
I formulate an age- with ford suburbans plowing the lunar beaches
With scaled composites, crystal rockery and evolved foreign speeches.
The crop circles on intergalactic dust appear when I jot astro notes
My uncle interprets, accounting of old war stories- the apollo hero boasts.
From the white coast of glanchinnia- housing estates pass legislation
To the red planets sulfer deposits- no wonder they never found plantation
Mars stinks- the surface is putrid and baron- so the inhabitants saw asylum
Forming an underground organization- hubble and rover couldn’t find them.
A linguistic phylum- narrating a story of a hitchhiker who travelled sector 81
And became renowned when he captured a martian moon crossing the sun.
Dusty stars shroud newborn planets- life adds a new ring to outer saturn
I witness asteroid chasers and can aspire to do this- without a dream pattern
If you must know the order, it is: `tik, Demik, `Ed, Sarcasm, `skills, Maven, Qual, Kelsey.
