Open The Gates

One love, one heart
I'm thriving with both but still lacking one.
If you can't guess then I'll give you a hint.
Its the one two many lack for self

There are times I give it more to others than me
I've realized that a lot lately.
Restless nights mixed with early morn edible delights...
Have not fed the hunger i need to satisfy the tremendous appetite of daily...
That's brain and body with vibes and energy
Licking my chops to feast has been a task as of late.

And school is something I don't wanna feel like a burden like in the past
Stuck by circumstance in this chamber abode of confined chaos
The key to open the gates is hanging on the side of pants of Janitor named obstacle.
And he calls the other keys that surround it courses.

Forces of delays to grin and bare the days in this willing path I've found myself on
Half blindly, seeing myself forge forward with hopes of snatching the key to sanity.
Debit is good, but I have nothing in my name so my credit is dead-it.
First broken key...
Through these going on 7 years of spoken seasons showing my brethren I want to love and live through spoken reasons,
shortcomings made me question this gift of verse and curse.
Second Key broken...

Even though I got all this knowledge
Back up in college and trying ban the scarlet letters of falling back
But my soul is being tugged on again.
Self control is getting shifted again...
The supply of utensil tools has been deplenished
This causes me to ghetto electronically free write with my free right.
Third key, bent, but not strong enough to open the Gates of solace.

I'm a vet of many things, but only half have soaked inner peace through me.
Love for many is a roller coaster of a relay.
But I have no complaints of what place I'm in.
Its been better to me these days then the past 16 years.
Loosening the Master locked bars for enlightenment I desire.
My being has a poetic pacemaker implanted inside from the fifth year...
Scrambled scribes scratched the surface of the man I've envied to be.
Music, has sung helping hands of ancestors past
to wake me out of nights as the living dead in this bedroom.

So, when will I take more charge of these breaths to just Open the Gates?!!
Ain't no time like the present to present my future with a past to be proud of.
Over thinking a vagueness is a part of my astrological and personality make up.
I know.
But I'm breaking this habit slowly, yet swiftly.
Here...I sit by the computer still being taunted by this Janitor
Who is believed to hold the key to busting free of this caged prison of lost mind, body and souls....
Only to discover, this redemption key was in my pocket the whole time.
The gates were already unlocked.
Not having the strength and the illusion of being locked,
was the transition of independence, getting the best of me....


"Honest Abe" Abraham Benjamin © 2013

NAPOWRMO-3 BREAKING THE CAST

I sometimes thought I'd break b4 being broke on going broke. Starting out in pieces not wholey speaking

unholy of my surroundings. Playing a new role with unauthodox voice and diction my confliction with words

became a Godly addiction.

But there had to be a production road where a wandering soul like mine could leave lyrical dope fiend track

marks of his existence. Discovering this gift of verse turned into a corpse with lil resistance to a hearse  my

trifecta helped me rehearse my mental medicine manufactured to mend masses....

As days pass with funky farts from fat asses swiftness

Cant deny I almost had multiple suicidal strokes,

Getting high off my own supply...

Looked at as a characticer of character never wanted to be born to play. So how can I escape...

My dad always told me my future was in my hands

The ball was in my court to determine how far I could go. But I've been trying to break this cast filled pain

pill narcotics society gave me since 13 y/o.

See, since my my mother nature gave me the script to act out puberty, there was no looking back....

Pimp smacking this gig in life for 13 years

But the scenes of Trial & Tribulations half treated me like its hoe. From when two thugs tried to rob me

across the st from the Brooklyn Museum on a cold winter night in 2004. Then, how my physical insecurities

made it hard to be Naked and HARD in front a woman at 26...losing out on love.

To my fear of success had me dropping college courses,

Out side forces I couldn't see

Having me cop a plea giving in to stress of a prosecutor named, "Depression" one of my many antagonists in

If you think my self destruction wasn't far way...

Then you'd only be half right.

The fight and battle for recognition had only begun.

Took me slamming against lyrical juggernauts and skywalkers on stages....

putting poetic magnums to mine and their domes for better pay

Starting as a noone paying dues to be a someone.

Honestly, I began being Abel to redefine my mind by the end of 2012.

Breaking the cast of this shy, keep to myself introverted demeanor making moves redeeming AB.

So the almighty casted a new love interest, Debbie.

A new guiding light I gladly learned new life lines to survive working with.

And  allow a truth to speak so my people can...just listen...use my words as the piston instead of getting

pissed on by the powers that be.

Need to continue breaking the CAST

Of our prison cells we confined  behind the bars spit.

Breaking the Cast, the media type casts of us valued as shit on a stick...

Breaking the CAST, that makes you believe your environment premeditates the success you get.

Breaking the CAST, where a man like myself tries time and time again, failing and rather then see regret

To learn from it!


“Honest Abe” Abraham Benjamin [© 2013]

NaPoWrMo~1/30 Priorities

She burns bright with transparency to me...
Like a translucent watery flame.
Slippery essence with heated emotion fueled by love...for me and life.

There's nothing I wouldn't do to etch simile smiles
On this sun kissed by God face wit out surgery.
Cause poetic purger y penetrating our profound love: would bring back the verdict of perpetrating as her man, and I love her!

Abbreviated as Deb
But far from a Debutante.
Truth is she wants and needs me....
Like I want and need her...
But sometimes my priorities be messed up.
Watch me be at these shows on the mic going
Blow 4 blow, from
City to city
Have no pity for the stages I slay...
Thing is whats heavy on my mind is that my Ms.'s misses me.

I've been on the Abc "Last Resort" tip
Acting like a trip filling in a catholic SIN cup
Need to be more on my Donell Jones like,
"U know Whats up"

F USPS, with their priority mail.
Im a keep reminding you you're my Priority female.
Express...sending packages from the heart
Understanding that a unlawful fact which most men
Take presents like your love for granted is exactly
The reason God gives future gifts to another through
Karma's post office.

And letting my ego grinding toward success
Cost me more than producing any book or CD
Is a price too rich for me living in vein
So reigning over any rain is whats needed.
To think, I cant balance both work and my woman
In life is unconventional, impeding self-centered.

The fact of the matter is
Keeping my priorities straight
Shouldn't be a moral habit orientation dilemma;
And render me useless.
Now that I finally got the point
Leaving this piece like the end of my last joint.
Period!


“Honest Abe” Abraham Benjamin [© 2013]

NAPOWRMO-4 BLEW PRINT

Nothing builds a foundation in a journey better than a blueprint. But not quite the one

you have in mind. I'm still talking bout design but its the sign of the gift to uplift.

Mix in a fifth of passion and drive with scars and verse  creating a divine the blew

print blessed by God.

The lightning rod be the stage

And I bring the thunder off the page so my brethren

Can Gage how your souls spine needs to be touched.

Its a bit much when I can bleed life's imagery onto mental canvases within this room

using my blew print tongue.


So I'm glad I rung these words from a prophets tormented temple turning the

subjective into the objective. Spending the past 6 yrs rearing a blew print you and I

can learn from.

6 yrs to earn some to keep moral bank accounts in good standing.

6 yrs losing voice, friends, fam and dragging these vagabonds called bones around the

country,

Like who this Honest Abe tip??

Aspiring to inspire my community to get a grip;

And stop sipping force fed kool-aid.


Spitting murial collages to heal is my priority.

My pigmented skin re-insures i must speak in color

Because no one feels transparent wordplay.

Don't matter if your instrument is the form of lips

Or like my mans Jimi's guitar riffs.


My blew print is this signature i want you to see when im gone.

My blew print will be the rhythm man walk to in nature's song

My blew print can burn love scriptures of solace instead of hate as Psalms.

Launching lethal loogies filling half empty cups

Of character to see the whole picture.

Understand, once my blew print is set in the wombs of minds and hearts

No power rivaling the almighty can ever sever

The truth's existence!


“Honest Abe” Abraham Benjamin [© 2013]