by Teo Beauchamp

Sending namastes 
to sunrays, 
I solute the universe 
and give birth
to a thousand earths
with a million moons

who spin the tunes 
to keep the planets rock'n, 
comets break'n 
and star formations
forming nations. 
Assalamu alaikum.

I do not write rhymes, 
I write mantras, prayers and declarations. 
My recitation inducing 
hemispheric synchronization 
with each exhalation 
and I don't need no affirmation 

I am an author of offerings,
kneeling before no earthling.
My voice carries 
crates of reverence 
on rails that run through you 
and onto the heavens. 
Thank you Lord.

Breathing blessings, 
I sing the sounds of the soul. 
Beat boxing for God's flows, 
for God knows what grows 
in the shadows 
of my black holes.

In the solace of silence
I kneel, letting revelations reveal
the weapons I wheeled
and the wounds to heal.
At times it is difficult to listen,
the constant unconscious
recitation of realization.

A reverberation
of creation, I appear,
but am not from here.
I was brought,
then bought,
then taught
this tong.

I slung thoughts
for freedom,
stimulating the cerebrum
with hummed conundrums,
chanting rhymes
over tribal drums.

Fear runs
when freedom comes
and all is one
when songs are sung.
So I beseech you brother,
join the cipher,

spit your spirit,
let us pray together.
With words we worship
the womb of the Father
and between breaths
bestow a Hallelujah.

Offering by Teo Beauchamp

© Copyright 2004. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

TimBookTu Logo

Return to the Table of Contents | Return to Main Page