Malkia Wangu Wakipekee

Writing from a heart felt moment, only in words,that still can't define the depth of my affection and love to my one and only queen..This one is for Margaret Kasoha my Mother.

Malikia wangu pekee

All my senses on hyper dimensions, attached in perfect symmetry to this creature that hold breaths, as I breath it breathes, when I feel pain it feels pain, only to later hear the misunderstood cries from a mother giving birth to a life form, no miracle known to man is greater,years passed now scribbling letters to my only queen since the birth of my time, no science or proven gods mythology a tests to the practical sense of unconditional love expressed , at birth were these tears of joy or a great cry to the almighty to look after me in this forsaken jungle.

Funny how a simple smile makes everything ok, seeing her face for the first time a bond built that will never break, I get lost with words, pens dry out while papers fade of to this unique feeling felt when I talk about her..I shed a tear once in awhile when I think about her, if that makes me less of a man then I ain't no thug, she is my queen of peace, I still get the same womb feeling every time I'm in her presence. for them seeking paradise, like common I see the God in her.

Memories passed, memories never die, I can still hear her singing sweet heavenly symphonies , a voice that brought calm and a sense of protection, a voice that over the years taught me right from wrong, the only voice that every night whispered I love you. Simple minded in a state not able to understand this difficult phase , blaming her of not having time for me when she had to work 3 jobs, constantly screaming to her why the neighbors had better meals.
 Life now getting clearer, pieces falling correct to this puzzle, understanding why she wept every time she gave me a beating, now I understand why she didn't have enough play time with me, now I see clear why she didn't have the latest shoes, as the earth rotated, years passed, my mind matured. Reflecting on the basic elements since birth.understanding the labour pains in a Picasso point of view.

A black Queen like no other, this is to thank you for the shoes you put on my feet, for the crumbs I had for dinner, for the cold nights when you lit the fire, for the 3 jobs you had, and most of all for every kiss goodnight. This is for my black queen, kwa kuni zaa, kunivish, kunilinda na mwisho kuni busu, wanipenda.. Nakupenda, Malkia wangu wa pekee.

Call me Michael

Some cats fronted and asked me to try step into a booth or write som' basic, my answer was...This Is me being Me, so I wrote som' basic.

Call me Michael

I am a sign from God...and as if my name wasn't  proof enough, baptized in the spiritual flames that broke apart when the ark of the covenant fell apart,touching the finger of the supreme, Michael emerged, now The Lost Sun, raised by a combination of all the ancient scrolls to deciphering ways of the Hieroglyphics,now understanding the new age basic man language and existence of human. im Able to see all the pain in your faces.. The tormented fears of a kid as grown ups fight, its not the thoughts of Forster homes, its the parental misguidance, results of abusive picket fenced broken homes, so this is where my voice comes in with a multiple personality, trying to reach the suicidal and pass hope, the runaway children and cover them from sun rays,

I execute my thots in different dimensions,with an equilibrium perfection.. Torment basic lines that fill up the radio stations, greedy trends,strange and fatal political essence, listen to this violin piece and inhabit your galaxy like its yours,control your God given, breath, life, earth.. We live in parallel destinies don't follow mine, mine blessed already by the mind of the supreme, creator of Mike, now The Lost Sun,follow Revelation signs, get trapped in my atmosphere, inhale dirt in a paradox. exhale purity that determines your future.in endless negativity, I understand demons and their forms,my body laced with exorcism notations. My heavenly form bares the mark of Michael, scribbling thots on the wall, scrolls that now evolved, to metaphors, uplifting lost souls, them who doubt my hiphop skills, check this, my B -boy stance was the first dance with the devil, left a mark in the sky, that thunder in July, lightning was me break dancing with both feet in the sky, thunder was Lucifer defeated falling on the ground.now get your facts right before u step to me with your weak fix, i don't mix baking soda with cocain, my high be a mixture of Cathanone and propane, i mean i just gatta spit....and it gatta be universal, nothing else or less ......or else .