Hullux

I speak

From a home of Red-Moon Voodoo!

In lieu of a Speaking Earth
“This is the Fatherless Region”

In a Lost child
“This is Spiritual Rebirth”

Whose Summer dreams
From Winter Chiefs in blue skin
Screams
To youths
Lost
In the name
Niggaz!


Moving on and on
I spill my summer's light
From out a mic show, forming path
Within the night to trail insight
Ye-Yo
What was one, now is jazz . On and on
Cello, trumpet, sax, and horn. On and on
Keyboard, mike, base-check, drums
But with medusas among
Us, the magic's gone. With our tongues
On the run from some who don't pun
So we hum in slums, never spurning
Where all that's spun are flicks of the wrist
"Snap! Snap!"
And
The world keeps turning


Now
On to a maple flower
Named
"Bleue"
Seen in chieftain dreams
And set on an eagle's wing
With a warmth feeding
A growing bloom.
Until her temples struck
By lightning
spilling Cool Arrows of Desire
Into the Black.
But then
"Snap! Snap!"
And
The world keeps burning

Caduceus

As I slept for those four years
I dreamt of buying liquor from a
Shaman up the street. Only to come home and
Find Piccasso in my bed, Andy Whorhol in the toilet and
Banksy half eaten on the kitchen table
I'm sure I was thrilled by this discovery,
As I'd forgotten how to breathe, so my conscience
Dragged me to a space of darkness, where
Eagle spread across the temple's floor,
A mind-fart asks: "What's wrong? "

I told him:
"When I was young I wanted to fly
But Icarus stole my wings. So I see the shaman
Every now and again, to fly emotionally
I've endured the harshest winters
On my journey to the edge of
The mind. But never will I discover
Reason. Unless I have the Shaman's potion
And two Pokemon for spirit guides"

So we began a call for
The illuminated gods of
Silence to consume our lives
I lost my way outside the temple
Meaning,
The doors to perception were closed
My religion was growing, thin
Back on a path to get home
Where we discovered the tumbling,
Bumbling Metaphor
To be dead.

A group of us huddled around
Watching it with anticipation
For a sign of whether our dreaming
Is indeed real.
But I step away from that crowd and run into the
Forest of machines. Only to trip
Over a realization. Without even seeing me she says:
"Don't apologize.

A true regard for the situation,
Should be over how
Impartial Reality is so far,
during your stay"

House of Wax

And at night he stays home where
the dreaming is like water. Used
to mop up wasted time.

But some days he wondered
what would happen to man if he
were ever able to grasp his Loneliness
invoke the physical tangible lumps of grip.

His couches and chairs would stand their
waiting, patiently watching
while struggling to hold
in-laughter

The pictures clinging to his wall were bored with him
watching them live out crazy fantasies, all of them
having either lost their pride, or all faith
in whatever it was he'd originally set out to do

Snickering when he left the room.

Running vivid in-head like the earth's springs
we're the forgotten after-imageries of the hereafter
before the "who" he used, to be in a past life

Sometimes his hands remember
they used to be hooves or all the
people with sunday mornings in their smiles
while the sun laughs at this with his usual pretentious conviction

and death watching babies cry as they past by. Sense they don't want to become young men

Drunken Comanche

I'm standing inside
The house of evening
On an edge of existence
That watches tomorrow loose its color

When I step out into twilight
The spotted moon smiles full pleasures
Eclipsed by a Raven flung from heaven
Drowning inside itself
Until salvation is found in the night
Creature. Possibly GOD swooping down
To devour the bird in two
Watching my windows open
To this darling self-decay in evolution

Beasts by all whispers

Fall from the sky


A dragon lands on my lawn
Winking to me
I ask him-
"Which one of you shall I worship?"

The demon beside it
Walks up to my doorstep, saying-
"There's truth in everything"

The Whipping Boy

When you heard children
Are the future, did you hear it literally?
Or that kids in a large white house on top
A hill, will argue over who gets to play with your toys



Benjamin Black-Odinma

Some Re-Creation

Walking the hot streets
Of L.A night light shines down
Like x-ray

A gentle breeze
Chopping thoughts
Into tiny pieces of gold
I give to everyone young and old
Wealth will pass
Until the world is beautiful but,
Then I remember

We're all broke nowadays,
Even king and queen and
Unless your
under The Streetlight
You can't see my thoughts

Sour Milk

The silence increases by an aging tongue making less fuss.
Again, we do this sew......The urgent pressings of
rebirth will diminish. unweaving
our webAgain and Again, two sew this gap largely untouched.

Time is ageless within
Its symmetry shifts the true secretes too
make the flowers smile
Beauty breaks down the mouth venom
is distilled in the mind, and labeled
so as something important to put a way
Alien materials form around the contour
of our actions and crawl through a nervous
system to push out your black third eye

I'm alone!

enlightened by this knowledge
Of symmetry's superior gaze in time and space
once Again whole
Wholly cocooned. Your truth is being
Impregnable to bullets of ego- that lying immortality

Ouroboros eclipse

To stand myself I must
fill up with voices. Anything.
that promises delivery to a doorstep...
And once again in my search to shut him
away, I fail level after level.
Sew,
i've distracted the where abouts of my thoughts
that This chimera I created will terrorize a ghost
in some other kind. Instead of the kind
that's glue to my attention
Sew,
with the blemishes
disappearing, it's honorable at first
Until you realize you're only worry's skin deep

Grimorie

You can't find
The Trick
The one you think
It's Magic.

Step up slow and shy

You're wowed by
Amazement you think is
Magic come closer
but please try and hide

You'll learn
If you only try
Once, twice, and
A third time charm
Step up, step up
No need for alarm
Cera, Cera
I geuss I
Lied

You were the only one...

I can still remember your

when we

But now my memory of

slowly slipping away

Times when we would
And your smile

I don’t want to forg you
But how can
when you’re

Gone.


Benjamin Black-Odinma

Phoebus and his car

Golden amethyst light duet
Embalmed by racing
Entombed from extinguished thought
Encasing stopped by


.................................................the controlling void...


A blend of shadow, space, and bleeding inside the void
Now light extinguish stopped
Inside you
Inside your hoping ambivalence
Ruling to release
Now I go!
Dim release to radiance
Twirling
.................Unfolding
.....................................Twirking
Now bliss is seething bliss
With a morning perfection
That dims at dawn...

The Angel keeps laughing

Her songs in bed were
All full of lead, binding me
To reason
So I opened her head, found
A girl instead. The compulsive act of Treason

You won't see me musing over
A startling love that
leaves one hurt
Or bruised.
I've clipped my
Wings and rather like walking,
I've never been so fully amused

Benjamin Black-Odinma

Again, Eternal return

I. CONTRITION

Dear Jesus,

Your starry eyes
Have chased our cave thoughts into the busy street
But we've burned all the history books
And listen to the prophets say-

"I want to be destroyed with you"

And now that the dark has no teeth anymore
We run to it in our dreams where
Where we do coke off weiji boards
And imitate ghosts

"Ed Gein is my idol"

But Apollo's under my floorboards
What should I do with him now?
Now that we know
There's everlasting rest within The Big Secret
But tell me
What has perception taught you?
Every night we kill ourselves
To bring a corpse to life
In post-mortem toxic incite
Perception was just a lie


II. PATH TO EDEN

Pooling twist of ivory on my decay
We walk
In search of beer and
Columbine trouble
Breaking walls
To search the rubble
Passing Plato and Kant at the liquor store
We keep walking
Til I join the moonlight
I walk with vital breathe
Watching stones grow
Roses between their cracks
I keep my energy balanced
To defang darkness
We keep moving
Til I'm lost in midnight but smiling
Perception is just a lie


III. CULLET

I once was a glass fellow
In love with this girl
Who had no faith for my violence
She said to me-

"Your the reason John Lenon was shot!”

I said to her-

"Christ died for his own sins. Not mine!"

Then we drank our tears
Pulling the mind
Fart's from affection
To make them cloud-nine
To grow smiles when the misery parts

Below and beside her short comings
I become demon to drain affliction
Taking time to gather grins for her lament
With dawn at the heels
Face buried deep inside a heart asphyxiation
I can break the mirror into an egg
But can I sweep it to the back of my head?
To become one with her as my reflection sleeps
In the warmth of absolution

When " I " awake,
" I " am born.

Speaking with the fearful man's infant voice
In the black of every infant's
mind-forged puritanical-

“Perception was just a lie”


Benjamin Black-Odinma

ENSO: Pinnochio's Theme

ENSO: PINNOCIO’S THEME


He came in with the issuing storm
A little boy lost in the lonely field
Of Dreams
Led on by the Wiseman's talking light
Apostle's love dripping, the boy
Maybe a Man, sees me and
I know
I had crushed his bones under
The weight with my years
Until he stripped his wings
And sat beside me. Fronting
A fireplace to say;

“The winter
Is dead. And the night was a cold come hither;
I have kissed Summer Winds since before the world began
But my youth still has yet to wither
Am I his broken temptation?
Each day becomes more difficult to know that
I’ve rejected the open door in
Nature’s lap,
Not to be confused with creation”

I laugh from the shadows
And betrayed the wooden boy’s wrestle
To the watchful eye of millions. This
Is magnificence!
I say, this is to perfect your encore, uh…a metaphor
Let this be a testament to your resilience!


Benjamin Black-Odinma

Admission towards disappearance

I.

I watched her rise from a pile of rubble
With wings made of cardboard
Feathers formed from iron and steal
Marred by sullen screws
Remissed

A clunky bird-child excuse for creation
Though something beautiful...

"Where are you going?" I asked

"I can live in trees now..." she said
Grim smile in-tacked

Then I watched her fly upon a delicate branch
A small bird
No bigger than a pebble
Thrown into that vast ocean of sky
But deceitfully heavy there.
As if a man had fallen upon her

Twigs cracked
And maimed bark
The unforgiving tree saw her disappear
Into the cold vastness
Of its erection



II.

She spilled out of the air
From a bowl-full of ASHES

A wing-headed girl
Shaking her feathers with rashness
One eye winking at madness
Singing in the heavy fog of a smarting accent
A song she claimed her mother gave her
Raised to falsetto
With a hint of sadness

Her wings clutched the air like rough hands
And climbed the sky
Toward its peak to stand

"Where are you going?" I asked

"Oh god it’s wonderful to get out!" she said with grin

"And drink too much!"

"And smoke too much!"

"And to love so many goddamn men!"



III.

In her cage
Discovered I

Smokey men with names unrehearsed
In a room full of

A varnished dull black
Labeled " Chimera "

It started with all...

"Someone play the blues"

Vision my tunnel but
Of bare bone skeletal skin wings
Her
Poking swollen stomach
Her
Lion head beneath
Inside tiny eyes
Key on my
Unlock to her open door
Kneel I then and said she

"Nobody warned me about attractive women. Do you think I'm ugly?"

"In a sense no one's beautiful" I said and there,
I Left her



Benjamin Black-Odinma

Metonym

My hands speak
With mouth power
So your mouth
Will open my eyes onto new chapters
Human power
Opens life
Opens nature
Opens violence

There is always hostility
In the open-
Mind
Open heart
Open hands to fight

Good intentions: My invention of sincerity
Invisible to everyone or just you?
I is simply you
Without tears
Without fears
I am I
Simply Soul-pennyless sun
Of english teacher
So vigorous without
" I "
The human power
Within your black thought


Benjamin Black-Odinma

Mother's day

Motherless leads to Otherness leads to
A Requiem Invocation-

“I is more than Son
Maybe what’s keeping her
Sane
A version with a better name
Crushing little girls in
Velvet”


Benjamin Black-Odinma

Vending Machines

That poet you had beaten
To a pulp and stolen
By KGB
Became a clean Nobel Laureate
Under house arrest
In China
Becomes a word you starve to death

I guess it's hard to decide
What you want when you
have so many choices.


Benjamin Black-Odinma