The poetics of life. The politics of change. The cosmic epiphanies. The evolving soul. The fly shit he likes.

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Two Days til the GODBODY Book Launch!!!

Godbody book launch

Saturday Oct 4th, 2014 it will be on and crrrrackin’! No normal boring book launching on this side, we’re doing it up proper.

You do not want to miss out! Join the event on FB: https://www.facebook.com/events/774681372573192/

Purchasing and download information coming soon.

Cover by the homie Joe Mintardja.
Godbody cover 1

 Sunrise meditation. Gratitude prayers. Intention setting. Divine guidance requesting. Attachment to the result releasing.
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This is My Love

bigbang

 

This Love is past, future and is always present
This Love transcends the limitations of space/time

*******

This Love is knowledge applied with grace

So it is the light that gives birth to wisdom

*******

This Love is focused like a surgeon in the midst of an operation

With the heart of all humanity held in the palms

Tasked with infusing it with the blood of the cosmos

The breath of infinity

And colors from a spectrum our eyes are still too toddler to perceive

*******

This Love will not look away

It will not become distracted

*******

This Love does not have Attention Deficit Disorder

*******

This Love is the highest honor

It would never deny itself and so would never deny me nor you

*******

This Love

*******

Fuck just killing

This Love will obliterate you softly, loudly, firmly, sharply, subtly

Until the puzzle pieces of your being are defragmented

And you will no longer pack Love like luggage

Folding and stuffing it in containers to be lugged around or forgotten, lost or stolen

*******

This Love is not to be put on and taken off as the weather shifts

In this Love there are no clothes to wear, thus no additional weight to carry

*******
Weightless we takeoff

In this Love

Eagles become envious of how we fly

Planes divert their flight paths

And UFO’s hover beside us with their hyperdimensional pilots staring at us like,

“What the fuck is that?!?!”

*******

This Love

*******

This Love obstructs injustice

*******

This Love acts

*******

This Love is not silent when shouts are needed

It’s not shouting when silence is needed

It’s high discerning senses what’s needed

And this Love acts

*******

In service to others, the whole

In oneness for real

This Love is passionate for truth

Ecstatic to reveal and

Revolutionary to reclaim what was lost in the search

No matter where we stand

We are the heavens

We are the dirt

*******

If you hold fear of the dirt you will not rebirth

You cannot stick your head in the sand and say you’re connected to the earth

*******

This Love

*******

This Love is an eye opener

It expands vision to see in the dark

Unafraid of the dark

Spark radiate from within

A new path to embark

*******

This Love

This is my Love

I am this Love

My Love is this

*******

Fearless

Shapeless

*******

This Love

*******

If you put this Love in a cup

The cup becomes this Love

Put this Love in a bottle

The bottle becomes this Love

Put it in a teapot

The teapot becomes this Love

Now this Love can flow

Or it can crash

Be this Love my friend

Be this Love my lover

*******

I am this Love

Infinite in treasures to discover/remember

Gaza’s Red Rose

Gazadaddy1(After the 2nd day of the Israeli assault in Gaza, I wrote this)

Her eyes stare soulless at sky

Five minutes ago she had just finished adding a final touch of red to the rose she drew for the boy she had a crush on

She would’ve picked a living one to give if they grew here

 

Now red drenches her father’s shirt

He is living the horror show of carrying her 7 years young body

As he runs, ducks and shields while trying to keep her organs from spilling out the gaping hole in her belly

His son’s lifeless body he had to leave behind

Riddled by shards of metal and rock and glass

His once soft adolescent face

Now shredded beyond recognition

 

The father runs

Breathing in the obliterated rocks of his homeland

He runs

Coughing unceasingly

He runs

He stops and crouches behind the shell of a bombed pickup truck

Charred black with smoke still rising to the sky

F-16’s fly through

Abusing the sound barrier

Purposely low

Deafening ears

Hastening fear

Tears flow monsoon like

 

And

 

There was no calm before this storm

This has happened everyday in some form

All targets struck

A face

A back

A head

A gut

That’s always been the norm

Exploding homes

Tearful screams

Painful groans

Countless families torn

 

He is close

The hospital is just around the corner

He tells her “We’re almost there, just hold on; hold on”

But he can barely see

He doesn’t know she’s already gone

Or maybe he just hasn’t accepted

Even vain hopes can be strong

 

In the same hand that grips her shoulder

He holds a sheet of paper

Her final act of creativity, inspiration & life

A testament to innocence & young love

 

Catching a minor clean breath

He stands up and runs

Zig zag courage in the hail from guns

He runs

Guided by love

Chanting in Quranic tongue

He runs

He turns

He arrives and cries for help

But his cries only become another heart-wrenching note

In the orchestra of wailing souls already echoing each other

 

Harmonizing hymns of the violently oppressed

To his left

Legless screams

To his right a final breath

Blood pools the floor

In this communion of death

 

He looks into her eyes and cannot protest

Soulless she stares

He knows she has left

 

He kisses her forehead

Pulls her to his heart

And rocks her back and forth

A final dance of mourning

He rocks

 

Deeply embedded in his pain is a subtle joy in knowing that she is now unlocked

 

He rocks

She is free

He rocks

There is no clock

To the floor her insides drop

He rocks

 

Doctors gently pry her from his bosom

His mouth is wide with a soundless cry

They guide him to a seat

Soul shocked stare from his eyes

There isn’t a human in sight that could not empathize

 

 

But across the borders

There are too many humans without sight

They cheer under a shield

And justify

Too many non-humans with political stripes and gripes

And they justify

 

But there is no justification for this

There is no political pundit puppetry that can justify this

There are no words from an “expert” in Middle East history that can justify this

There is no amount of research into “who started it” that can justify this

Agreements between colonial oppressors

do not justify this

Any scratches from the cornered cat, guided or misguided, do not justify this

There are no quotes from any Rabbis or Imams that can justify this

There is no Holy Book, on the planet or above it, that can justify this

And if there is, then that book is far from Holy

 

Only hate can justify this

 

 

Little girls and boys no nothing of hate

Until you teach them

They no nothing of oppression until you beat them

They are born already knowing how to love

They do not need to be taught this

It comes as natural as play on a sunny day

In a grassy colorful playground full of swings and monkey bars

Or in a dusty field of mines and rusty motars

 

Which children desire to play the most?

Which children laugh with the most spark?

Which children are the most adored?

Which children love their parents with most heart?

 

Which parents grieve the deepest

After seeing their child blown apart?

 

Israeli? Palestinian? Iranian? Lybian? Egyptian? Native American? African American? Euro-American?

Nigerian? Kenyan? European? Brazilian? Columbian? Haitian? Australian? Ukrainian? Russian? Tibetan? Chinese? Japanese? Korean? Cambodian? Indonesian? Papuan?

 

Tell me

Whose love for the children is the most real?

Whose pain at their deaths are the most valid?

 

Powerless and drained

The father’s body goes limp as he faints out of consciousness.

The tightly clinched paper with his daughter’s final work of art falls to the floor

His compassionate doctor picks it up and opens to see

A stick figure masterpiece of a small Palestinian girl

Handing a giant halo hearted red rose

To a smiling solider who is Israeli

-Kamau Bakari Abayomi

Ka Mau – Lyrical breakdown of my song Shift


Peace. Those whom are familiar with the rhymes and poems I write know that I touch on multiple subjects and hit them from multiple levels. I’m aware that all the levels can be difficult to catch, so in an effort to bring further awareness and clarity to the complex nature of the reality that I address in my music, I’ve decided to do a lyrical breakdown the first verse of my recent song/video release. Shift produced by my homie Karsten here in Bali, is one of my favorite of the songs I’ve recorded relatively recently. Every single line has meaning, so allow me to break the lyrics in the first verse down, providing links where you can go further into the subject where needed.

Ka Mau – Shift
1st Verse:

“Twin sun gravity gunshots begun
Power of slugs
See ‘em approach as one
Nowhere to run
3 weeks soon come…”

Over the past few years, the number of asteroids and comets entering Earth’s neighborhood and meteors entering the atmosphere have been steadily increasing and as of the last year and a half, increased dramatically. New asteroids are just being discovered in short periods of time before they whiz by the Earth by a cosmic hair. There is a theory that proposes that we live in a binary star system, meaning our sun has a companion star or a “twin”. When this twin sun makes its closest pass, it goes through the Oort Cloud, which exists on outside of our solar system. The pass of this sun sends cometary bodies into the inner solar system. Is this what is happening now?  More info: http://www.sott.net/article/254162-Nemesis-The-Suns-Evil-Twin-Brother

“…Fate up in our face
Who will feed the forked tongue…”

With unavoidable change to our planet upon us, will give in to fear and “feed the forked tongue”.  “Forked tongue” is a double entendre referencing the snakes in suits and information put in the sphere about the hyperdimensional beings known as “reptilians”, who have been described as beings that derive nourishment from the energy emitted from fear.  More info: http://veilofreality.com/2013/09/11/ufos-aliens-and-the-question-of-contact-v2-0-full-length/

“Decisions are overdue
Judgement is daily
Future ain’t written
Prophecies are maybes
Possible timelines
Unwritten dealings
Revelations given to prevent self fulfilling…”

As I see it, with each individual and collective choice we move towards a potential individual and collective outcome. Everyday we are making choices and those choices are judgements. Time is not a linear fixed phenomenon, thus the future is a series of potentials. Our activity or inactivity can determine the accuracy of prophecies, which peer into potential futures. I think the individual and collective awareness can also accelerate or decelerate cycles that seem to be fixed.

“The last days of an age inside the maze
Sing freedom break bars and escape the cage…”

Change is occurring without a doubt, but it would be very foolish to think one day everyone will just “wake up” and “get it”. Individually and collectively a choice must be made to be free. But before that choice to be free can be made, we have to first see how we are not free, on on every level of our being. Once we can see that and get to the root of how we’ve been enslaved, then we can begin the work towards being free. More info: http://www.amazon.com/The-Paradigm-Conspiracy-Systems-Potential/dp/1568382081

“Machine feel the rage of humanity
Condemned by political men wearing the mask of sanity…”

The Mask of Sanity is a book by Hervey Cleckley and goes in depth about the nature psychopaths, psychopathy and how they blend into society, passing for normal human beings. The subject of psychopathy is that topic sitting untouched (with the exception of a few recent shallow scratches into the mainstream) in public discourse, yet once you look into it, you will see is at the core of humanity’s self-destructive course. Through theiir total lack of compassion and empathy, coupled with a ruthless lust for power and control, they have risen into high positions within politics, law enforcement, business and finance where they insert their inhumane way of being into social structures, forcing the mass amounts of a population to conform to the psychopaths virus like ways of being. You can get The Mask of Sanity as a free download here, as well as loads of information on the subject: http://www.cassiopaea.com/cassiopaea/psychopath.htm

“Streets with profanity
Task is enormous…”

The streets of the world are shouting, “Fuck This Shit”, but the task is so enormous that it will take alot more than just taking to the streets.

“Slash through the tyranny
Embrace what’s before us…”

We MUST accept the fact that total tyranny IS staring at us and expose it for what is it.. We as a collective must embrace the predicament we are in and stop the denial.

“Galaxy adores us
Choice in our palms
Either perish on our knees or evolve beyond”

We are in possession of free will. It is at the heart of creativity and its true expression. It exists on an individual and a collective level, but it must be developed and strengthened by removing the psychological/social barriers that prevent its true expression. As individuals choose to evolve to higher states of awareness and being, they become more aligned with the laws of allowance and choice. They recognize that all of what we are experiencing are lessons on the journey of Higher Self knowledge, and so they will not seek to impose anything on another being. At the same time, a deeper understanding of the statement, “We all are one”  is seen and experienced. While the experience of their personal reality will shift, the nature of the collective reality, which is formed by the collective consciousness, will still remain as it is and so these these individuals offer themselves service to the whole. They present knowledge and opportunities for others to affirm their soul right of free will and to make an informed choice.

Chorus:

You can see it in the streets/Feel it in the air
Feel it within/Let it begin and shift…

Clear my eyes so I can see…..and shift
Clear my ears so I can hear…..and shift
Cleanse my heart so I can know and love
Flow from above/ Flight like a dove

The “Clear my eyes so I can see…hear…know and love” is taken from the “Prayer of the Soul” which is part of a powerful breathing and meditation that do called: Eiriu Eolas It is a meditation that has been very helpful in assisting in the process of shifting.

Peace,

Ka Mau

At 17

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At 17

When I was 17 I smoked weed

A lot

We’d say, “A blunt a day keeps the doctor away”

And it was far from any act of rebellion

I just blew big like EVERY other 17 year old I knew

…and it wasn’t just an Oakland thing.

At Berkeley High even the teachers got high

All up in the art class Ms. Lucy in the Sky

All my artwork questioned “why?”

Hit the house parties in Piedmont

White boy weed made us fly.

Same shit in the city

5 story mansion in Pacific Heights

Parents out of town….and you know how rich white girls get down

(Wait that was a stereotype)

A bush of green out the closet for the crew of boys so brown and after that…

….well you know how rich white girls get down

(Oops sorry…that was a stereotype)

 

But the American dream deems there are two different 17s

One for Julie and Brad

Another for Iyesha and Hakeem

One that slaps the wrist on a first offense and chalks it up to growing pains

Another that chains the wrist with no offense and chalks up a growing slain

“Brad’s a good kid…. he just made a mistake, a minor teenage stain

Hakeem can’t be a good kid….look at his clothes…he must be in a gang”

Julie goes gothic dark spiked hair and boots

Out in the park drinking all night

Home at dawn cursing her parents on sight

“Oh but don’t worry….it’s just a phase, she’ll grow out of it.

Her GPA is high so we don’t doubt it.”

Iyesha goes to a party in trendy Nikki type pink

She doesn’t like alcohol but she’ll nurse one drink

Slightly tipsy less shy

She loves to dance and he’s a cute guy

Eyes clear breath fresh he isn’t drunk or high

The beats go berserk

Feet go to work

And since it’s the new thang, she turns around and twerks

Secure in her body

 Just letting it flow

Willful and skillful

It’s captured on video

Youtube upload uh oh here we go

“That girl’s a prostitute! A slut! A bitch! A Hoe!

No future for that child except on a pole

Wait, did you say her GPA is 4.00?!

Well….So!!!!!!”

 

The American dream deems there are two different 17s

One for Julie and Brad

Another for Iyesha and Hakeem

One that slaps the wrist on a first offense and chalks it up to growing pains

Another that chains the wrist with no offense and chalks up a growing slain

 

ImageWhen I was 17

90% of the music I listened to was rap.

Same as ALL of my friends….

I had about 4 or 5 different hooded sweatshirts to rock

My jeans were baggy and they sagged on my ass

My mama struggled with finance

We were considered low class

In a pipe I’d pack a bit of hash and inhale

Eyes red but my mind a lot clearer

Press play

Reciting Mobb Deep gangsta raps in the mirror

 

(Seriously though, what teenage male has never imitated being a tough guy in the mirror?!)

 

The poetry of teen life

The conflicting search for what is right

Lost and found directions

The hide and seek of my own light

My teeth went white gold

Sometimes dice rolls

Other times chess

And yes there were fights but what does that really suggest?

It’s just the process of transformation

From a boy to a man

The only difference is when I was going through it there were no webcams

I wasn’t socially conditioned to post my loneliness and depressions to be “liked”

I wasn’t coerced to record and upload my dreams and nightmares every night

My joys and pains

My comforts and insecurities

My epiphanies and confusions

My reality my illusions

My successes my fails

My rage and suicidal thoughts

My creative set sail against the hate I fought

My growing life was not put on blast for the world to judge

And leave a comment on

And find entertainment value in

I was still, somewhat, allowed to be a kid

 

Where would you be if it had been plucked before you bloomed?

Imagine a man taking a razor and cutting open a caterpillar’s cocoon

Pouring its metamorphosis on a table

Condemning it “ugly”

Saying it deserved to die because it didn’t have pretty wings

Think

What if somebody shot and killed you at 17?

 

Creativity & Sharing @HUBUD 20×20 Pecha Kucha

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Peace to HUBUD for inviting me to share words at the Ubud 20×20 event this past Tuesday at Betelnut. It was a great night and experience for me. Here’s a few excerpts:

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