AS ABOVE, SO BELOW

The above statement is the truth of all ages. The place that you go to in your dreams is not an illusion, it is the universe that exists within you.
It is up to you to cultivate it for your arrival when this physical mass returns back to dust. So fill up!
Look at life as an acronym, Living, Is, From, Experience. We have to go through trial and error, it makes us emotionally strong, and readies us for the next time we come across something similar. As it was once said, "If it doesn't kill you, it will make you stronger."
An exceptionally difficult situation, given people the opportunity to grow spiritually beyond one's self. One could ignore the challenge and simply vegetate as most people do. So to thine own self be true!

"MY EYES"

If you could see the world through my eyes
You might lose your mind
Want to pull them out
Live life blind
Powerful odds against the GOD
B.U.T. I still strive
Bring it to the whole world
Like a hot four five
Divine evils don't want to see the GOD get loot
I got a plan though
Cock the M-1 and just shoot
Long Island Railroad like a man I don't have to name
I want a button on my lapel just might do the same
Stick the whole train
Like cowboys with unsung fame
And then they lock me up
When society is the blame
It's a damn shame they use me like a pawn in this game
Doing me all kinds of ways and I suppose to act lame
All we get is promises that we still can't claim
Feeding me bad food to keep my mental frame all tame
I'm taking aim!!!

Theory Of Relativity

Celestial contemplations that dictate my swagger seem
conflicted,
Although I amble to the vibration of creation.
I stroll to the song of my soul,
Even though I manufacture death,
I also breathe life.
Sacrificing myself on the cross of the four corners
that I call my block.
I call my Glock Jesus,
Since it saves me.
If you think I speak blasphemy,
When beef cooks will you blast for me?
You don't have to judge me with condemning glances.
I do so every night as I voyage the subterranean tomb
of my thoughts,
While my two four-five's thrive,
My thoughts are on the elemental particles that travel faster
than 186,000 mps.
While detectives cruise by in unmarked cars,
I envision the making of stars.
I know my miranda rights,
I also know the collision of gluons create the strong
force that bonds the nucleus of an atom.
My Grand Unification Theory is,
Should I smoke skunk in a dutch,
Or haze in a White Owl.

"SOUL PHOOD"

As I listen to the song of creation I dance
A slow jig
I sway like a palm tree on a breezy day
Sometimes I sing along, even though I don't
know all the words
I make up my own, hoping that the tune guides
me home
I find myself humming like a monk, using that
ancient mantra to stimulate my souls seat
Happiness is what I eat
Yet my belt is on its last notch
So I sit and listen to that ol' song
Hoping that it changes this wrong
Sitting here famished, some can't even finish
their plate
Can you relate?!
Or did you make your own song,
A fast tune, that leaves you up past noon
The early bird is quick to be heard
Just as long as you see through the 3rd

"GREAT WORK"

Illustrated dreams,
I paint on the earth's canvas
Searching for myself in the wilderness of the
uninhabited
My song too is the wind,
Although my imagination rains down to fertilize
the unplanted seeds
I want to gather them near,
B.U.T. they keep running wild, just happy
to be free
Free from the memory of slavery
B.U.T. what they don't see, is that the chains were only transferred from their legs and wrist unto their minds
I like the devil because he gives me nothing!
And to whom nothing is given, nothing is expected
So without expectations there is no purpose
Which makes me other than my ownself
I'm the illness and the remedy
Doctor heal thyself!
And cure the wound in your head
For what good is a perfect body,
If you're walking around brain dead?!

Trick Knowledge

Institutionalized I stand to be counted, among
the rest of the dead.
Cranial suppressions oppress my depression swimming in
the medications I'm fed.
The drinking water is filled with their dirty white
lies,
That now runs brown in my sink.
As I go to work tired,
Overwhelmed with extra duty,
I don't even have time to think.
I should have made better choices are the
thoughts I used to have,
But now they seem foggy in my head.
Pre-programmed solutions for the problems
created by masters keeping us confused and
misled.
Subliminal propaganda on memos printed on
an office letter head.
Disenfranchised, even though I voted
each election,
Land of the free!?,
Or at least that's what I read.

"IT IS WHAT IT IS"

I've come to the conclusion that,
It is what it is
I know we play a major part in our fate,
B.U.T. we can't over plan for every scenario
that takes place
We would be setting ourselves up for failure
Peering too far in any direction can strain the eyes,
Causing you to miss what is right in front of you
So I plan for success,
B.U.T. I live for my mistakes
For through error comes correction
Making manifest perfection
A picture can be worth a thousand words,
And none of them may be true
For all truths are relative, just as beauty is in
the eye of the beholder
You just better use that eye which is older!

Sweet Ginger Brown

As I think of you,
I taste the nectar of your Georgia peach,
Like dew from heaven coming down.
My Sweet Ginger Brown,
You give me life bearing treats,
that make me want to rub your feet.
The scent of your love embracing my smile
when you come around.
My Sweet Ginger Brown,
Birds sing to your beauty like it's
their duty to make your presence known.
I call your heart my home.
In the swole of your soul is where I can be found
My Sweet Ginger Brown,
Whether passionate nights between the sheets
Or moonlit strolls just you and me,
There is no place I would rather be.,
Than homeward bound to my Sweet Ginger Brown.

Big Bang

A quick glance through the peripheral,
I smiled.
Finding myself engulfed in the redolence of
your natural emollient,
Petals of jasmine and cinnamon sticks.
We dance electromagnetic,
You and I.
Proton, electron,
Emitting sparks as radiant as a super nova.
So the Big Bang must have been love.

"Rising Star"
Written by Leonard Jackson
(AKA) Sporty Red

(chorus)
When a brotha dies I don't wonder why
Cause a star proving his life is born on the sky
So peace be upon him with my blessings
Young Gods under 21 called back to the essence

Verse-1
Gun smoke clears black suits and tears
My little man only seen 16 years
Of the fast life, selling cracks and doing jacks
Young and Black, stashing money by the stacks
A thoroughbred catching bodies like the feds
Instead of simon says, he's hitting off smoke heads
And getting lit, cause his moms died when he was young
HIV strung, dope feign at 31
Oldest of 3 left alone to maintain the family
So he chose the life of a G
A loot taker, getting props for gunning at cops and other crews
Sun had a short fuse
Quick to let the Mac throw-up, Shorty was nothing nice
Pockets blowed-up, and he had a hot hand in dice
Damn Sun I miss you word life I feel like crying
I'm a get them kids that did this to you or die trying
Little bastard, never thought I'd see you in a casket
Told you to slow down you was moving too fast kid
Now it's too late you knock z's with the O.Gs
Peace God I'll see you in infinity

Verse-2
Rest in peace gun shots increase
Another black adolescent kid left deceased
From these ghetto wars, welfare checks and projects
Causes stress and death is the effect
My cousin T-Bird in 91
Word life Sun we use to pump yay by the ton
He was in Baltimore I was up in Mass making that cash fast
But see that shit don't last
And now you dead and gone, physical plane left to mourn
And when your moms told me what happen kid my heart was torn
And your little seed looking just like you in the face
But don't worry I'm a take care of him in your place
Somebody prayed for them kids cause they got knocked
So instead I went and shot up they whole block
It won't bring you back but I just had to react
My mental state was seeing families wear black
Now Dre is with you cause a fucking asthma attack
I won't forget you Ces blunts and gold by the stacks

Verse - 3
Now everytime I go outside, it's a chance that I might get done
Catch a hot one
In the brainstem, on the ground spitting up phlegm
Live by the sword, die by the Remington (automatic)
Life is a bitch, 31 years old lucky I aint in a ditch
Just got out of jail, back in the game
But since Troy died life aint been the same
But I won't fall victim like my bredren
So I represent the star moon and seven
So many of my peops lay dead in the street
Cause they walk around sleep, thinking shit is sweet
My little man lance caught a slug in his head
It made me bug cause he's dead so I fall back and get red
Some said he use to look like me
Could have been my physical laying in the street
But it's just another day, life in the ghetto
Gots to be a better way so
I shed a tear every time I gots to put a brotha to rest
Shit's thick so always wear your vest