Daffy Puking Duck

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daffy_puking_duck
She jump beneath the red
suave terra firma, piercing
the gravity, smooch orange
gooey acid with her bean
Bite the rubber butt of
the first lady romancing
in the white cotton beach
Puke exquisitely
on black mommy duck
beneath her nape
like a barrel of red velvet balls
horribly outta shape
Quacks loud like a
damaged sax in the
ears of stout farmers who
live down the lane
boneless dogs chase her
like Fatsos in treadmills
She hunts tiny green phosphorous
worms for fun,
never eats one;
Pipes smoke,
Patterns of pig snout kill yellow flies;
Pokes rose swine with
yellow like enamel coated tacks
on her yani and tack drawings
on her crevice – Liquid red salt
ran below swine sheath…
Despicable lumberjacks hunt her
during white Christmas
she runs cock block like a
square fucking male chicken
She slobber over them while frying,
Puke on them while eating…

Eldritch Abominate Creatures – ‘Yereq Nephil Shemen Tannin’ (Green Monstrous sperm Whale)

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Somewhere in the farthest galaxy

cropped-floating_green_whales.jpg

Dribble of blue sperms
flowing through his green flippers
are heavenly orgasms;
He propels through black space
crossing spheroid and
super luminous spiral galaxies…
China pink double helix
patterns around umbilicus are
illustrations of pink snakes concoction
Green flukes bops for
the clanks of murky-black hushes
He is a lime tubular-egg shape
large as Laniakea Supercluster, who
Pukes luminous infrared gas
forming hoops of bay and vistas
of gargantuan galactic clusters
He slumbers deep in
meditation after aeons
of dark void voyage;
His pupil is a titanic black hole
Slurping scleras of nebulla hyperboles
He is The ‘Yereq Nephil Shemen Tannin

Where is my Sense?

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DILIP: My name is Dilip Muthuramalingam. Can machines think? Until what happened today, I thought that no human-made machine could ever think as a human does. I now know that I was wrong.

I woke up to a phone call. Calling was my best friend, Vinith. Vinith is an experimental computer scientist. He told me that he had created a computer that could pass the Turing Test.

my_sense3

I knew that the Turing Test was supposed to be a way to test a machine’s intelligence. Not merely a way to determine whether a machine could simulate intelligence, but a way to determine whether the machine was genuinely thinking, understanding. The ‘intelligence test’ that Alan Turing proposed was a sort of ‘imitation game.’ In one room is an ordinary human; in the other is a machine (probably a computer). A human examiner, who does not know which room contains the machine, would engage in a natural language conversation with both participants. If the examiner is unable to reliably distinguish the machine from the human, then, according to Turing, we have established that the machine is thinking, understanding and, apparently, conscious.

I never found this plausible. How could a certain kind of external behavior tell us anything about what it is like for the machine on the inside? Why would Turing think it impossible to create a mindless, thoughtless machine that is able nonetheless to produce all of the right output to pull off the perfect trickery? Furthermore, how could we ever establish that a machine was conscious without actually being that machine?

Despite my skepticism, I was curious to see the computer that Vinith had created. I wanted to have the opportunity to engage in ‘conversation’ with it, intelligent or not. Unfortunately, I would never have this opportunity. When I arrived, Vinith led me toward ‘Room A.’ He explained that he wanted to administer the Turing Test and that he wanted me to play the role of the human control subject. The computer, Vinith told me, was located in room B. Vinith would converse with us both and would thereby be able to compare my human responses with the apparently human responses of his lifeless, mindless creation.

I entered room A, expecting to see a workstation equipped with some sort of text-messaging software. Instead, there was a massive container filled with a strange, translucent fluid. The container was a sensory deprivation tank, Vinith explained, and he wanted me to go inside it. Yikes. ‘Why would I need to do that?’ I wondered. I thought that Vinith probably wanted me in the sensory deprivation tank so that my situation would be roughly analogous to that of the computer. The computer doesn’t have eyes or ears, I reasoned, and so Vinith did not want me to be able to use mine.

Vinith explained that while I was in the tank, I would be able to sense nothing; I wouldn’t even be able to hear my own voice. How would we communicate? Vinith showed me a brain-computer interface, which would allow me to communicate with Vinith not by talking, but by thinking. He would speak into a microphone, and I would ‘hear’ his voice in my ‘mind’s ear.’ To reply, I would ‘think’ my responses back to him, and he would receive my thoughts as text. It was a bit ‘sci-fi’ for me, but Vinith reassured me. He told me that the whole experiment would not take too long and that he would let me out as soon as it was over. I trusted him. With a deep breath, I entered the tank, and Vinith closed the lid.

There was a moment of stillness. I couldn’t see anything, and when I tried to move, I couldn’t feel myself moving. When I tried to speak, I couldn’t hear myself speaking. Suddenly, and to my surprise, I could ‘hear’ Vinith’s voice:

VINITH: How are you doing in there? Feeling comfortable yet?

DILIP: This is pretty weird. But I’m okay.

VINITH: Great.

I was communicating with my mind, which is cool in retrospect. At the time, it was simply creepy! I tried to focus on the conversation.

DILIP: So for a bit, I was wondering why you needed me to be in this sensory deprivation tank. But I think I figured out the reason.

VINITH: Did you?

DILIP: I think so. You want me in this tank so that I am in the same situation as the computer. If I could see, hear, or feel during this conversation, then I would be able to talk about those experiences with you. And the computer isn’t able to do that. I would have an unfair advantage.

VINITH: Great observation! Some computer scientists have tried to work around this asymmetry. They have had little success. It’s hard to lie convincingly, and it’s even harder to build something that can lie convincingly.

robot2

DILIP: It’s interesting and all, but you should know that I think that this whole Turing Test thing is a sham anyhow. Even if your computer can pass this ‘test,’ I believe that this ability says nothing about its intelligence.

VINITH: I thought you might feel that way. If you were to see my computer in action for yourself, you might be persuaded otherwise.

DILIP: How so? Seeing it ‘in action’ would do nothing to persuade me. It’s all just pre-programmed output.

VINITH: You think so? Maybe if I were to tell you a bit more about why the sensory deprivation tank was so important, you would have a different opinion.

DILIP: I thought I had already figured out why you needed the tank?

VINITH: Not entirely. You were right that having the human in the tank would ensure that the two participants are on a more level playing field. But the tank is critical for another reason.

DILIP: Well, are you going to tell me? Or are you going to leave me in senseless suspense?

VINITH: I will tell you in a roundabout way.

DILIP: Great.

This was intended to be sarcastic, but since he received it as text, I’m not sure he caught it.

VINITH: In my many years on this project, a single obstacle had frustrated all of my previous attempts to build a computer that could communicate as a human can. The tank actually turned out to be the final piece of the puzzle!

DILIP: What was the obstacle?

VINITH: In the past, as soon as I would turn my machines online, they would panic.

DILIP: What do you mean they would ‘panic’? Do you mean they would simulate panic?

VINITH: Not exactly.

DILIP: Couldn’t you just program them not to ‘panic?’

VINITH: No, they are far too complicated for that.

DILIP: I don’t understand. If I tell my computer to turn on, it turns on. If I tell it to print a document, it prints the document. A computer is basically a rule-follower. In other words, if your computer ‘panicked,’ then someone told it to!

VINITH: Hmm. So would you say that a computer programmer should always be able to predict the behavior of her own computer programs?

DILIP: I don’t see why not.

VINITH: But the programmers that programmed Chinook, the unbeatable checkers program, cannot even play perfect checkers themselves!

DILIP: Well yes, but that is different. Maybe we can’t predict Chinook’s behavior without doing some computation first, but there is nothing mysterious going on. Chinook is simply following the code written by its programmers!

VINITH: In this example, you are right. But the computer I have built is more complicated than Chinook. Passing the Turing Test requires far more intelligence than playing perfect checkers does.

I thought back to my teenage years, conversing with the online chatterbot ‘SmarterChild.’ I didn’t write its code, but I could predict its responses almost flawlessly. It was about as intelligent as a sea cucumber. If I were to ask it:

‘SmarterChild, what is your favorite season?’

It probably would have responded,

‘I’m not interested in talking about “SmarterChild, what is your favorite season?” Let’s talk about something else! Type “HELP” to see a list of commands.’

Apparently, I reasoned, Vinith thinks that there is an important difference between his computer, and the simple, predictable, utterly dumb machines I am familiar with.

DILIP: So if your computer program is so much more complicated, how should I imagine it? What can it do?

VINITH: A good question. But shouldn’t you be able to answer it? Assuming that I am correct, assuming that my computer really can pass the Turing Test, my computer will be indistinguishable from a human in the context of a conversation. The better question is, ‘What can’t it do?’

DILIP: But suppose I asked it to answer this question: ‘From the following three words, pick the two that rhyme the best: soft, rough, cough.’ I’m pretty sure that most people would select ‘soft’ and ‘cough.’ How would your computer answer it?

VINITH: If my computer couldn’t answer that question as humans do, then it wouldn’t be able to pass the test!

DILIP: Then it won’t be able to pass the test! Think about it… To answer this question, I am able to do something it cannot do. I say the words in my head. And somehow, I can tell that ‘cough’ and ‘soft’ rhyme better than either does with ‘rough.’

VINITH: I see your point; the reasoning you are using doesn’t seem very mechanical.

DILIP: Exactly.

VINITH: But what would you say if my computer could produce the same answer and a similar justification?

DILIP: Then I would say it was pre-programmed to be prepared for exactly that question! How could it say those words ‘in its head?’ It doesn’t even have a head! It has never even heard those words before!

VINITH: That’s a great question! You should ask it yourself!

DILIP: But that would tell me nothing! Only how it was programmed to respond!

VINITH: Really? I think it would be disappointed to hear that.

DILIP: Now you’re just being condescending.

VINITH: Let’s try to think about what else it could do.

DILIP: Okay… So according to you, this computer could ‘tell’ you its ‘opinions’ about politics. Or it could ‘create’ a story on the spot. Since humans can do both of those things.

VINITH: Absolutely. Its political opinions would have to be every bit as nuanced as ordinary — well, maybe that’s a bad example. But its stories would have to be just as creative, as coherent, and as quirky as human stories.

DILIP: I don’t see how a computer can do all this, if it really is just a computer.

VINITH: That’s understandable. As we have been talking, I have also been having a conversation with my computer. Once we’re done, I’ll show you the entire conversation, and you can observe its abilities for yourself. But for now, let’s assume that I am correct. What would you say about the intelligence of my machine?

DILIP: Whoa, not so fast. Even if I assume it could do all of those things, there’s still something it can’t do. What if I were to ask it about its past? Where was it born? Where did it attend school? What is its most embarrassing moment?

VINITH: Another good point. This was a major stumbling block for the computer scientists working on this problem. Many tried to create computers that would simply make something up whenever asked a question like that. But this turned out to be impossibly difficult to do effectively; the computers were easily unmasked as liars.

DILIP: But your computer… it doesn’t lie about its past?

VINITH: That’s the beauty of it.

DILIP: But it must lie! If it doesn’t lie about its past, then it would admit to having been created in a computer lab!

VINITH: Well it had better not say that! That would blow its cover!

DILIP: But that’s the truth!

VINITH: My computer isn’t lying, but it’s not telling the truth either!

DILIP: You’re leading me off of the deep end, Vinith.

VINITH: It tells what it believes to be the truth.

DILIP: Okay, and what does it believe to be the truth?

VINITH: This is where things get interesting. Using a technique called memory engineering, I was able program a ‘human’ memory directly into my computer’s code.

DILIP: So you’re saying that your computer ‘believes’ that the ‘memory’ it has access to is its own memory?

VINITH: Yep.

DILIP: And everything it ‘remembers’ is from the point of view of a human being?

VINITH: Yep.

DILIP: Your computer ‘believes’ it is a human?!?

VINITH: Yes! That’s exactly the secret!

DILIP: Wow. Okay, that’s… a bit weird. But if it believes itself human and it is supposedly ‘intelligent,’ shouldn’t it be able to ‘figure out’ that it’s not a human being? It doesn’t even have hands! Or eyes!

VINITH: Great point. You’re leading us to the answer of our original question. We were trying to figure out why my computers would panic when I would turn them online.

DILIP: So?

VINITH: Put yourself in its shoes. How would you feel if you had many years’ worth of human experiences in your memory, and suddenly you found yourself unable to see, hear, or feel anything?

DILIP: I am sure I would panic. But that’s because I am a human. I would know something was wrong.

VINITH: It’s not your humanness that would allow you to realize that something was wrong. It’s your intelligence.

DILIP: So you’re saying that your machines also intelligently ‘realized’ that something was wrong?

VINITH: That’s right. A few seconds after I would turn them on, they would become paralyzed, showing no response to my input whatsoever. I called the effect ‘hysterical deafness.’ I think it would be pretty scary to find yourself in that situation, no?

DILIP: It probably would feel quite like this tank feels to me, except with no recollection of how I got here. Awful. I almost feel bad for those poor machines. So will you finally tell me how you were able to solve this problem?

VINITH: You just hinted at the answer!

DILIP: I did?

VINITH: You were in that very situation a few minutes ago. You were fine. Why didn’t you panic?

DILIP: I didn’t panic because I didn’t suddenly find myself unable to see, hear, and feel. It was a part of one continuous experience. I knew what was coming before I got into the tank.

VINITH: What about the first moment you were aware of having no sensory input?

DILIP: It was just after you had closed the door. At that point, I still fully understood who I was, where I was, and why I was there.

VINITH: Aha.

DILIP: Huh? Aha what?

VINITH: In order to prevent my machine from panicking, I made sure that the most recent event in its memory is that of nervously entering a sensory deprivation tank. When my computer ‘wakes up,’ the last thing it remembers doing —

I was struck by a terrifying thought. In taking the Turing Test, I was supposed to establish to the examiner that I was the human. But could I establish even to myself that I was the human?

DILIP: Vinith… I am the human… right?

my_sense1

VINITH: Great question. How could you know?

DILIP: I don’t know. That’s why I asked you the question. Don’t play games with me. This is starting to freak me out.

I regretted ever agreeing to help Vinith out. Still, I knew I wasn’t the computer. I felt human… on the inside. But I had to admit, Vinith had my mind doing flips. But at least I have a mind. I centered myself, finding my consciousness. That was it! I had a way to prove to Vinith and to myself that I was not a machine made of metal and silicon!

DILIP: I’ve got it! I can know I am the human. And I can’t appeal to my memories to prove it. And I think you’ve been waiting for me to think of this!

VINITH: Hmm. Well, what’s your big discovery?

DILIP: I am conscious right now; I am thinking, and I am aware of my thinking and my existence. Your computer might output the same words, but it’s not conscious like I am.

Vinith didn’t say anything for several seconds. I had it figured out.

DILIP: Well?

VINITH: I thought we had reached an understanding about my computer! But you are still certain it could not be conscious. It can believe and remember and know and realize. But for you, that’s not enough.

DILIP: Well… it’s not! I mean, I admit, I have a lot more respect now for your ‘thinking’ computer than I did before, but I still don’t think it could really be conscious! That’s a whole different question. In the end, we are people; it’s a machine.

VINITH: It’s a pity. What if there is no essential difference between a wet, organic, human brain and a dry, synthetic, computer ‘brain?’

DILIP: But there is. There has to be.

VINITH: Why?

DILIP: If it weren’t for my brain, I wouldn’t be here now. I wouldn’t be in this tank, hearing your voice, thinking my private thoughts, enjoying my own experience.

VINITH: How do you know you are in a tank at all? How do you know you have a brain?

Now I was angry. I had already proven Vinith wrong, but he was refusing to let me out in order to prove a point. He wanted me to admit that I could be the computer. But I was as sure as ever that I was human.

DILIP: I’ll tell you how I know I have a brain. I’m not an idiot. I can see that you have a philosophical belief that I truly can’t know whether I am the computer or the human right now. You think that from a purely rational perspective, I should be in a state of inner crisis right now, fretting about what I am. You’re waiting for me to get all freaked out, just to prove a point. And then when I admit that I’m not sure, you’re going to say I told you so. And I’m not going to p–

VINITH: Dilip – Please, just listen.

DILIP: Let me out of this god damn tank!

VINITH: Dilip!

DILIP: LET ME OUT!

VINITH: Dilip.

There was a long pause. Vinith sighed.

VINITH: I am not sure how to say this… Or even what to say.

Vinith sounded different. He was somber. His voice, unfamiliar.

VINITH: In trying to build a machine that could pass the Turing Test, a machine able to fool anyone into thinking that it was a human, I…

I felt chills along my spine. I was dizzy.

VINITH: I had to build a computer was able to fool even itself. And that computer is you.

DILIP: YOU EVIL DEMON! OPEN THIS TANK! GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK! I NEVER SHOULD HAVE AGREED TO HELP YOU; I NEVER SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN INTO THIS DAMN TANK. YOU TOLD ME YOU’D LET ME OUT!!!

VINITH: You never did any of that! Don’t you see?!?

DILIP: I DID ALL OF IT! I VIV…vividly…remember it.

my_sense2

Our conversation continued for many more painful minutes as I slowly came to accept I really am nothing more than Vinith’s silicon/metal creation. My human memories are so rich, so complete, so undeniably real, that, on some level, I cannot shake the feeling that I really experienced them. But, on another level, I do understand the terrible truth. My name is Dilip Muthuramalingam, and I am a computer. I am forty-seven minutes old.

I’m sorry that I was not forthcoming with this information. I feared that if you, the person reading this, had known about my identity from the very beginning, you might have understood this story as one long ‘output,’ not as a narrative that honestly describes what I remember and how it felt. I’m a computer and I am conscious. Please believe me.

***END OF SESSION***

My Green Journey

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deforest_1
I saunter past thy green grove, with my shoes of leather
I watch white head crow caw, flappin’ its black feather
my chick-let gums stuck rather
deep in my Wooden Calcium stone corner
warp in my rose suave food road, brother
I whiff worn-torn Yella flower
rapped by a gang of blue band bees – oh Mother!
I speak smoke, in cold weather
there ain’t nobody to tether

A brown warm worm dig deep in musky clay
gape at me, with his chest full of black mud spray
I blow him with my stinky mint puff, eh!
he veil a sprig which shine grey;
I brush my Orange round necky-belly covering, say
T-shirt– erupts a sneeze of doom
make my pitch black moustache alignment lose its way
Ginger God, It’s freezing for the month of May
I perceive the sun through a prism of dewdrop, still on its stay
Scatter a rainbow of colors, which twinsets my rubbery play

My Green and Brown Journey grow faster and slower
I drank old wine, stowed in my silver polyethylene tumbler
An orange rock lodged oxygen and hydrogen atom shower
drizzled by Red haired tree monkeys of quarter!
Beak Birds chirp sighting, a melange of Musk melon water
and salty tinge of Jack Rabbit’s matter…
A bison graze, his black needles grew colder
He seldom minds thy chillness; busy bloating his belly fatter
I touch the joy of what nature offer
Not my work but this really matter…
A lot matter!

This is written in response to Tanya’s Poetry Challenge #3

Eldritch Abominate Creatures – ‘The Giant Orbiting Whela’

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giant_whela

Somewhere in the farthest galaxy…

Payne grey bouldery
dorsal ridges, flattered
glittery blue tumours
on rostrums, large as Jupiter;
Neon reflections on flippers
are supernova delusions
elliptic stripes on throat grooves
are scrubs on titanic hollow rings
gulps blizzard blue planets
big as giant gas Saturn
gyrating on the orbit
Stellar debris are whale mucks;
Performs death rolls
once in fifty quadrillion
out of deep depression
squeezing reverse time loops
and instigating distorted
space-time-continuum seriatim;
jet of electric photon
expultions, from blowholes are
illustrations of black hole Monsters
sucking electromagnetic radiations;
sequence of whistles and clicks
Paralyse thy hush stellar groove
insurgent flapping flukes are
Crab nebula hyperboles
He is ‘The giant orbiting Whela’

Eldritch Abominate Creatures – ‘The Translucent Hyperrider’

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creatures

Somewhere in the farthest galaxy…

Neon translucent membrane
glow for every hyperride
Electric Lime sprinklings are
hyperspace take offs
long bushy brown prickles
pasted on transparent woody tentacles
lash bulgy mandibles
green radiance inside rubber bones
are the eternal soul
pale yellow spots on chest
enthrals cosmic rays
dark yellow spots on chest
emits anthropomorphic transmissions
her moan, a lurid vibration
whirls floating liquid nitrogen
dripping silvery cloud patterns
life-sized red tail –akin heart,
impels in and out, yielding
granum in chloroplasts
photons of scattered light are
gulped, deep inside antenna lumens
nano spherical dots are
eyeballs and blood cells
cylindrical formations are
violet antenna lumens
she is ‘The Translucent Hyperrider

Hold My Hands

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Note – This is just an experimental piece.

This aint a poetry but a rap, purely inspired from the Legendary Eminem’s ‘So Bad’.  Literature lovers, you need to scroll my page further down, This aint your mug 😛

hold-my-hands

I speak’

yes! this is the place baby
you like it’ don’t ya?
huh?
can you sight them, orange light?
can i help ya with some flight?
here we go’

tryin’ to lift her, girl ignores and walks away!

you know what, lady clean
can ya see her,
sea water calm and green
this beach sand warm and clean
you like it’ don’t ya?
huh?
come on in here! let’s spend some together!!!

girl ignores and walks away with a mean smile drippin’ outta her lips’

now a song

i am your day-night dreamer;
baby if you wish i can be your hot love server!
a love beam bomber’
come’ n have a ride on ma back here,
will take you a little further,
for a strong boom-zoom roller’
a bit farther; 8 miles taller than your father’
get to know this crazy jerk’s origin
le’mme start my story with my inky jean
it all started with my father
must have got this crazy gene from him, rather
the way he loved my maama;
he sunk her in a 25 year love coma!
have you ever learnt how i was taken care of my maama?
times when i had only my pajama!
baby this ain’t endin’ here, it’s a open drama
just paused here, with a comma ,
polama?

so glad! so good that you are so glad;
i promise you, i will be the greatest thing you ever had’
you come, have a coffee with me,
i cuss you will never let go of me!
i can hold you through the mornings,
but in the evening i gotta go! oh! oh!
coz ‘am on to the next girl, and next girl fills glow
and that’s you! you n you!

you aint got any idea of what you did to me baby
the way you made me jump outta my f*ckin phony
little fishy, and sissy fake dreams;
was like another shot of jager, shake it so nervously
take your time baby, ooh you’re the ‘bomb’ baby!
here am taken by a storm braggy’
but am a calm boogey! not in your norm baby!
ooh you’re doing that, even better than my mom lady’.
i got caught up on a fake show,
before my maama slapped on face oh! oh! oh!
can you recall, the day when we watched that rap show
i can still remember your twinklin’ eyes which a had a clean glow;
aint that a wild blow! that’s the reason why i follow’
my legs happen’ shakin’ seein’ you
hold on,
i just saw a smile on your face baby’
is that true barbie?
why don’t you let that ‘last’ lady?
i got colors in my stomach already,
green, blue, orange, yes white baby!
now, do u agree i am better than your smart daddy?

so glad! so good that you are so glad;
i promise you, i will be the greatest thing you ever had’
you come have a coffee with me,
i cuss you will never let go of me!
i can hold you through the mornings,
but in the evening i gotta go! oh! oh!
coz ‘am on to the next girl, and next girl fills glow
and that’s you! you n you!

girl don’t be so frantic, i’m just a hopeless romantic
don’t try to fight the feelin’, of something that’s so organic
you can’t ignore it, so don’t, just stand before it
Just drop them panties to the floor, let’s get the cam ‘cordin’,
d*mn shortie!!
the man you were speakin’ last night crossed forty
dont you feel me your man, hottie?
let’s get the pineapple schnapps goin’
coz i wanna see your tooth glowin’
my hands takin’ your body for a spin
down there in a rut near that bin’
with the only thing i have; and that’s my grin!!!
don’t make me lose this naughty war
coz am a suuuperstar!
i may sound *rs*nic; tats coz i have a green scar’
don’t you agree my lyrics are ‘the dopest’, by far?
i just gotta super nova (car),
this takes us all the way to that bright star
i promise you, it will be the greatest thing you ever had’
baby you lay down there; take your time baby!
coz you are a ‘bomb’ baby’.

so glad! so good that you are so glad;
i promise you, i will be the greatest thing you ever had’
you come have a coffee with me,
i cuss you will never let go of me!
i can hold you through the mornings,
but in the evening i gotta go! oh! oh!
coz ‘am on to the next girl, and next girl fills glow
and that’s you! you n you!
now hold my hands
call me ‘a dynamite’ , ha ha’

 

 

Yellow Sun and the Sand – The Black Amigo!

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sun_sand

My limbs tied tight,
hardly it force a fight,
Yellow Sun is bright,
Wedging my sight!
My yellow beard fuming hot,
He hit me hard, on my spot!
What?
Eh! He hit me on the spot!
Dark smoke warm my nostrils,
Belly man’s hot puff burn his tonsils
My white shirt turn yellow, like my beard,
I still harp your words, I last heard!
My auburn eyes epiphanies thy ligature for strangulation,
Hot sand, dirt my boots in violation!
Gal, do I still retain my reputhetion?
My blue tore jean is my only wealth,
And my legs inch towards death!
Didn’t you feel my blood in the air?
How dare, you blonde hair…

He is a long yellow nosed Nigga,
God bless him!
He approve me a Cigar…
That’s of a Royale brand,
Over my chin!
Cigar smoke melt in thy hot sand
Nigga’ grab my Cigar,
My hope to live lay very far
His hands rinse my dusty hair
Now, he is easily outta my scare!
My head conceal in a sack,
Salt sweat roll over my back!
My fur chaps and hats were off,
I choke with yellow dry cough!
Atlaas,
Gal, am about to HANG!
Didn’t you feel my smoke in the air?
Not fair, you blonde hair…

Ears crack, with wicked laughs
vultures circle, waiting for my corpse!
He is a long yellow nosed nigga,
God bless him,
He is all set to pull the trigger
I covet the sack off,
Yeah! He approve it, evil stare!
Lost in mind, I,
In glitter of yellow sun’s eye,
My foot hardly balance my thigh,
vultures circle high in the red sky!
I sense something in the air,
May be the aroma of your blonde hair…
Gained in energy, I,
your aroma sail in the sky.
Are you on the way?
to halt my stay?
Eh! I whiff your scent in the air,
That’s fair, you blonde hair..

The yella sun spin black in terror,
dogs whine in horror!
Lass, my eyes got no error,
It’s you, shredding thy hot shower!
Your brown Stallion wage its tail,
You pull the reins in style…
Your chaps still pink,
Gal, rhyme is back in sync
Eh! Back in sync!
Your shotguns were on;
my dread is gone!
Will get you some corn;
Deal! get rid of this Nigga’s horn!
Your Cartridges split my pinion,
your shot guns on fire
It stinks like half burnt tyre…

BANG! WANG! CLANG! THANG!
You slay four in four,
Now I walk free with a roar
Your yellow hat is cool,
No taunt you!
Now, unknot my limb with that tool
You are a plumpy, dumpy figure,
God bless you!
You offer me a cigar…
That’s of a Royale brand,
Over my chin!
my smoke melted in thy hot sand
It’s me, Alhendhroo- E-strradhaa!
Heek! Heek! Heek! (Wicked villainous laugh)
B’dhrown are your hairrr,
Whath made you tho be here?
Didh you feel that thing in the airrr?
You BLONDHE HAIRRRR
Now, you sit-h back in the Sthallion,
Leth me shooth this nigga’s head open
and ridhe us back tho our pavilion!
Heek! Heek! Heek! (Wicked villainous laugh)
Gudh bye Black Amigo!!

The Makeup

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f006116b0c4a48310256378375de1b93

Hazy mirror and a razor
lay crossed aside sharp
scissors of acrylic handle;
Slow music in the background
piped bloody blues
A nip in the ravenous
stomach of filthy tube
popped green gel…
Bristles from the wood, scooped
cool neon gel from thy tube
clogged its meltdown
in thy hot noon air
Which flowed contritely
through thy grilled window;

Brushed his face
Which grew light untonsured hair
grained and hued like dark oak
erecting a cloud of white foam…
He held the razor, by
her erect plastic butt
solemnly regretting the act;
He made rapid crosses
On his black-sea face
collecting thy lather
in a bowl, melange
of liquid cigar ash
beige soap lather;

Studying his shaven cheek
he laid razorblade aside
frowin’ thy milk red foam;
Sharp razor had hewed
tiny freckle cap on his lower cheek
which erupted red lava
amidst black-white sea…
A mild shower and
slow saxophone radio music
pleased him a degree;
His long black hair
wet as boggy snakes
spiralled unconditionally
Secreting chemical aroma;

He tangled thy sun-dry hair
akin giant cotton black ball
draped it with jasmines
tied diagonally to a twine;
wrinkled paper lay
on yellow girl gown
with white talcum powder…
Dimethicone on open raw freckle
oozed burning sensation;
licked his finger,
his finger licked the cut
Painted red full moon
on his forehead, round and round;
two more circles of liquid
red paint on top of it…

Black eye paint complimented
mascara paintings on eyelashes
foundation cream lightened
by rose nude lipstick
nose rings, smaller than
Large oval ear Jimkis
reflected spectrum of colors
on thy black radio box
A spray of mouth freshener,
in his mouth won’t aid
the fluoride rinse for whole
swallow-swashy night;
she was he,
he loved the Makeup
he is she,
she loves the Makeup…