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SEPTEMBER 29TH IS MY BIRTHDAY:)

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Sep 1, 2008

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Thursday, April 03, 2008

God but no Goddess?
Current mood: accomplished
Category: Writing and Poetry

God but no Goddess?

Lying in bed this morning feeling the ultimate stress
thinking about a religion that has a God but no mention of a Goddess
All this ’He’, ’Him’, ’Father’, alpha male bullshit
but you should know that in some bibles the Creator is described as IT
If there are male and female aspects in the creation
why shouldn’t this also be the case with the Creator?
A God but no Goddess?
A father but no mother?
Physical parents yes?
Spiritual parents no?
What is wrong with the picture?
I believe my spiritual Mother is real but kept in the background
I reckon God gagged her so we wouldn’t know that she was around
I read the whole bible
It seems each separate book had a war
and I’ve never heard of a woman starting a war before!
Male without female?
Day without night?
Well, you should know that the Creator that I acknowledge
is a spiritual hermaphrodite
We all have an urge to merge with our opposite
so I’ve got no time for this religious bullshit
Two becoming one
What a beautiful sight
You can’t have the day without the coming of the night
I hear all this talk about girl power
What about Goddess power?
Shame on every woman that accepted the idea of a spiritual Father only
God but no Goddess?
We have soulmates but the Creator doesn’t?
Women of the world
Empower yourselves
and rewrite the Bible for yourselves

’I am Mary, the daughter of Goddess
None may come to the Mother except through me’

Christianity
Stop the insanity!
It ain’t nothing but a yin/yang
In the East they know that yin is in the yang
and yang is in the yin
so try and tell me that what I speak of is an unpardonable sin
The yang is in the yin
The yin is in the yang
God and Goddess had an orgasm and we called it the Big Bang
.....and the cosmos sang

I will leave you with this
A bumper sticker I read once
’God is coming and she is pissed.’

Copyright 2001
KNOWLEDGE

4:54 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Thursday, March 06, 2008

When?
Current mood: accomplished
Category: Writing and Poetry

When was the last time your hand was kissed

When was the last time that a man lovingly stroked your wrist?

When was the last time you had a kiss that blew you away?

When was the last time you felt

a man actually cared about what you had to say?

When was the last time a man looked lovingly

and lovingly deeply into your eyes?

When was the last time that a man made you feel like a gift wrapped prize?

When was the last time that a man stroked your whole body

ever so lightly with the Butterfly Touch?

When was the last time you thought the erotic sensations were too much?

When was the last time a man made you feel like it was the very first date?

When was the last time a man said something to which you could relate?

When was the last time a man listened without interruption

to everything that you had to say?

When was the last time a man made you feel that you were more

than just a roll in the hay?

When was the last time that you shared long hot showers?

When was the last time he spontaneously plucked for you some flowers?

When was the last time that you talked with a man for hours?

When?

copyright 2005 Ray Witter aka KNOWLEDGE

2:05 AM - 5 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Saturday, February 10, 2007

Anorexia isn't sexier
Current mood: aggravated
Category: Blogging

Anorexia isn't sexier

You ain't no hero

'cos you fit in a size zero

The 'thin is in' mentality gets me pissed

If you wear a size zero it means that you don't exist

Skinny girls look at voluptuous women and start to act bitchy

Well, I know that they look a whole lot better than that skinny thing Nicole Ritchie

I'm preaching the gospel of Sir Mix-a-Lot on microphones

Females with back look a whole lot better than skin and bones

If a skinny woman is what a man enjoys

I'll have to point out that you can't distinguish the anorexic from boys

Kim Basinger passed as a man in '9 and a half Weeks'

and so did Julie Andrews in 'Victor/Victoria

and it's a whole lot easier when you suffer from anorexia

If Twiggy like bodies leave you impressed

I'm the one that'll point out that they have little or no chest

12:38 AM - 8 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

Sunday, January 28, 2007

I've got issues
Current mood: confused
Category: Writing and Poetry

I've got issues

Darkness cloaks you

My rhyme skill chokes you

Your flow is tragic

I'll dazzle you like Magic Johnson

Step to me, I'll let you know that it's on son

I gave a phantasm

an orgasm

and made its muscles spasm

I push you to the brink

Now look deep into the chasm

I'll reduce your flow to a hoarse whisper

'cos mine's is tighter and crisper

I made a gesture to the jester and flipped him the bird

Left him in awe with lockjaw

He couldn't believe what he heard

All teeth and claws, he tried to tear me apart

so I punctured his flow with a verbal dart

Bullseye

Now you die

Your courage is withering

In shock you head back to the rock you came from

slinking and slithering

I'm not the devil you want to dare

I'll fill you full of despair

Taking emcees out in multiples

I've got rhymes to spare

I bust flows so sweet I had to preserve them on paper

You spit your flow I make it disappear like vapor

Vaporizing

'cos my flows so appetizing

I try hard not to let the beast inside me dominate

but it comes to the fore when fake emcees player hate

The Wordsmith is my dark side

Knowledge is more gentle

The Wordsmith is all about invading your mental

He doesn't give a damn about haiku

All he wants to do is psyche you

Try to invade his space and I'm pretty sure he won't like you

When I relinquish control

he claims my soul

I share all the memories of the battles he fought

I stare at the bodies of dead emcees and all the carnage he wrought

The Wordsmith is my creation

but I can't control the transfromation

It's getting harder and harder to hold him back

He lives for the attack

and snuffing emcees that are wac

Fake emcees

He brought them to their knees

His face showed no compassion and no response to their pleas

I never ever tire

My lyrics forged in fire

I'm remarkable

and marketable

Pitch your flows, I'm batting them

Guaranteed to go platinum

Two decades back I first sensed my word shaping ability

and felt its stirring

Spontaneous breaking into rhyme would keep occurring

"Theidentityoftheentitytothisdayit'sstillunknowntome"

Just like that, I never know exactly what I'm going to blurt out

Just a little something I do to give myself a verbal workout

The Wordsmith birthed from a cocoon that cracked apart

fusing with Knowledge to share the same heart

KNOWLEDGE

12:37 AM - 6 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Old School Glory
Current mood: cheerful
Category: Blogging

Old School Glory

Old school rap I'm restoring

because gangster rap is boring

Their flows I'm just ignoring

Can't see how they got to touring

Put me to sleep and got me snoring

What manner of black sorcery has us under their spell?

What magicks did they employ that caused their records to sell?

What demons did they pray to from the depths of hell?

The Wordsmith in this incarnation for their foul language I must dispel

The mike's about to get heated

Expletives will be deleted

Gangster rapper's act too conceited

so they must be defeated

Gangster rapper's want to physically beat me

because they know that they can't lyrically defeat me

They look at my hair and say I'm fronting like Cisco

but when they hear my flow they sweat harder

than John Travolta at a disco

My flow is so full of life it's pregnant

while theirs is just stagnant

stagnant and repugnant

The lamest thing in rap

is when people want to talk crap

about the clothes that you're wearing

when it should be about the flow that you're sharing

With the Wizard of Words I sat at length

My training almost over, he gauged my verbal strength

Dusty books surrounded us full of battle rhymes he employed

enabling him to cast fake emcees into the void

Trapped there forever, their minds a blank slate

for daring to imitate and duplicate

Spells guarded the books fake emcees tried to steal

daring to touch them would cause their blood to congeal

I walked outside and viewed the stars

A beat ran through my head so I hummed a few bars

I saw an ugly duckling chuckling which got my knees buckling

Then I saw a young woman with her breast exposed and her baby suckling

A breeze set me at ease as I thought of emcees

that would bite what I write, the plagiarism disease

MC's gathered in a cypher around a distant campfire

Those who sat away from the center of the flame

with their heads down were the ones I'd made retire

I walked over to the fire where the logs lay a burning

I bust out a flow which got their heads turning

Those in back I revealed to be wack looked up in fright

and ran away into the night because my flow is so tight

Confrontation gets me stimulated

I verbalize you and leave you mutilated

The battle long and hard, so much devastation

Fake emcees bowed before me in supplication

The crowd congregated

to see wordplay demonstrated

Rotten fruit was thrown

at those who messed up on the microphone

Hands exchanging money, the crowd placed their bets

I ripped into my opponent like I had a case of Tourette's

A wise man will never reveal all that he knows

That's why I always keep something back when I'm spitting my flows

KNOWLEDGE the Wordsmith

__________________________________________________

For more poetry by Knowledge go to

lulu.com/content/440685

5:05 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Monday, January 01, 2007

The Exorcist
Current mood: determined
Category: Writing and Poetry

The Exorcist

Hear the babble of the rabble

they don't realize that I dabble

in words more complex than you'll find in a game of Scrabble

Years of experience in dealling with the possessed

Words no mortal eye should see that appear upon their chest

The complex pronunciation of a secret incantation

I drive the demon out with my flow, my verbalization

foaming at the mouth realizing that my rhyme is greater

I dispel the hound of hell by tuning into the Creator

Man, it's such a bummer

when they start up with "your mama!"

I let the demon know exactly who is dumber

and when I hear it hiss I tell it 'Cease and desist!

'Cos I'm the Exorcist

and you don't wanna get me pissed"

The epileptic fit, the shuddering, the shaking

Is it faking? No mistaking that I'll have to drive the stake in

They speak in multiple tongues that no mortal man should hear

but I make them disappear with the rhymes that reach their ear

They sell their soul for the rap

that'll put them on the map

but the fame will never last

'cos they have a troubled past

The rhyme will go from strong to weak

'cos it's the darkness that they seek

The darkness that persists

It's the darkness I resist

'cos I'm the Exorcist and you don't wanna get me pissed

Gangbanging, rockslanging

They ask me how's it hanging

The gory story of an OG

wreaking havoc with his Uzi

The hustling, the drug deal, the keeping it real

The achiever has a fever, now this soul I must heal

Pride before a fall, the booty call, now he's having a ball

Girls with back, most of them slack but now he's walking tall

So we have our confrontation, throwdown, a showdown

I give him the lowdown on who's the best around

and when I hear him hiss I tell him cease and desist

'cos I'm the Exorcist and you don't wanna get me pissed

Freestyling, wilding, stream of consciousness

They float on what they wrote, am I up to this?

To bring the demon to the ground

and make him stop the moaning sound

Now there's a chill in the air

and I start to feel fear

as it makes sounds like a synthesizer

but that's just the appetizer

for what's about to come next

now it's got me vexed

So I rhyme to the beat that the demon provides

as I see the bed shaking from side to side

I keep the flow going

now the movement is slowing

No more to and fro'ing

I rest up, I'm messed up, I take him off of my list

The final resistance is the shaking of the fist

but I'm the Exorcist and you don't wanna get me pissed

3:21 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Wordplay
Current mood: amused
Category: Writing and Poetry

Wordplay

Base jumpers perform some crazy stunts

Jumping off of Christ statues

I don't do tattoos

That shit is permanent

'Permanent'

Great. Now I have a word to rhyme with 'firmament'

Man, I've seen some crazy shit in my life

I saw this manic mechanic acting messianic

He swore in a former life he went down with the Titanic

The freestyling singer met the blingblinger

He said, "Do you know that you're a dead ringer for Mr. T?

All that shit around your neck looks heavy"

Wordplay like foreplay

Verbal fencing like swordplay

Don't be humble, you're a slammer

You know that you're a bad mamma jamma

Hey, don't get mad!

I'm just trying to penetrate the prism of your cynicism

Your word's flow on the page like semen. verbal jism

Now I've got something I need to settle with Hansel and Gretel

Why do you have a problem with me playing heavy metal?

METALLICA! METALLICA! ATTICA! ATTICA!

The moon is waning, my energy's draining

Why am I complaining?

'Because I need it to be full

so I can feel its pull

and howl like a loon at the moon

Did you know that we're in a cartoon?

A three-dimensional molecular painting

It's too much for her mind, now you've got her fainting

Deep concepts and precepts

Pump my mental triceps

I got a synapse

to do forty laps

I'm in a story I wrote

I need to hit that musical note

Doh-ray-me-fah-so-lah

Tea for two and two for tea

I love to wax a fake emcee

Wax on, wax off

Did you just cough?

Gobbling up my rhymes like pigs at a trough

I'm the created and the Creator

The masturbated and masturbator

Cosmic sperm, ejaculating stars

fascinating cars driven by Pras

and all the other ghetto superstars

I'm on a space shuttle and it's headed for Mars

Decided to drive it and smashed it and got put behind bars

I don't do well in a cell

Feeel I'm living in hell

'That old black magic's got me in its spell'

Am I the weakest link because of my inability to think?

Would a skunk still stink if I took it to the skating rink?

Or would it keep its smell on hold?

Doesn't matter anyway 'cos I came down with a cold

'Don't push me 'cos I'm close to the edge'

I'm about to jump off this ledge

Nothing that you say will make me go back in

There's too many things that my soul is lacking

I've seen 'Vanilla Sky' so I don't mind being up this high

so I'm just gonna sit on this ledge and cry

But you're never gonna survive unless you get a little crazy

I had my goals clearly mapped out but they got a little hazy

Wordplay like foreplay, verbal fencing like swordplay

3:16 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Welcome to Reality
Current mood: annoyed
Category: News and Politics

Anarchy and misery

A ghoulish reality

A devastation of humanity

Of poor people almost exclusively

Human suffering unparalled in American history

Citizen's lives made barren and impotent by a catastrophe

Real human emotions acted out for the world to see

It would never have happened

if Bush hadn't taken away the $70 million needed to fortify the levee

The people of New Orleans becoming refugees from their own city

floodwaters unsafe because of their toxicity

Left without worldly possessions, searching for lost family

Haliburton Inc. got the cleanup contracts, exploiters of poverty

A nation thinking itself invulnerable

to Earth and its forces woken from that fantasy

Hurricane Katrina gave us a harsh dose of reality

Slapped in our faces by the storm, forced to confront our vulnerability

Survival of the richest, escaping if you had money

the American Dream, capitalist fiction, turned out to be a fallacy

Exposing the charade of separate but equal

vanished racism and social equality

The hurricane provided proof that black and white America

are divided socioeconomically

Just as it was before the formation of the Republic

when black slaves were considered animals

and one's skin color determined freedom or misery

Conscious and subconscious racism still lingers

with emanicpation did not come equality

Blacks creeping out of cesspools of slavery

into a world they only saw through the periphery

A culture, white and homogenous placed monolithic barriers to entry

This can be said with certainty

the slave labor of blacks made America wealthy

Blood, sweat and tears enriching America's past and present oligarchy

America's wealth accumulated over centuries of slavery

Generations of blacks have suffered

from a playing field that has no semblance of equality

Dependent on the crumbs and bones thrown their way by an Anglo society

For one hundred years after winning their freedom

blacks remained a servile entity

Confronting societal racism and government indifference

the black community never really escaped slavery

Slave wages, slave income, slave like conditions

with no foreseeable opportunity

Jobs whites no longer wanted were given to blacks

the lowest end of the totem pole called American society

White America pretended the ghetto did not exist

even as millions lived in squalor with no foreseeable opportunity

Making impotent education from pre-school through high school

by introducing firewater, drugs and weapons into the inner city

Relegated to the slums and ghetto, forced to live in poverty

Wanting to move ahead and escape the internment camp

the leite had shoved them into but lacking the education necessary

Without education there is pure ignorance and lack of knowledge

Without liveable wages there is only slavery

Living paycheck to paycheck, indebted more and more each day

thousands of blacks are forced to jon the military

Without employment and education

two million black men find themselves

in the largest prison system the world has ever seen

locked away for crimes that wer petty

The sojourn into the inner city is to take a trip into Haiti

Thos such as George Bush, born with silver spoons and gold-plated toilets

would be unlikely to show any sympathy

No concern for those less fortunate than themselves

hypnotized by the Dollar Almighty

Guitar lessons in San Diego, rounds of golf in California

ignoring the New Orleans calamity

Failing to attend to the worst natural disaster in America's history

showed us that Bush is nothing more than a corporate owned lackey

More concern was given Bush's failed war in Iraq than an American city

The administration knew full well the dangers of a major hurricane

hitting New Orleans but didn't help to secure the city's safety

So they ended up swimming in toxic cocktails of waste and water

dehydrating for lack of water and hungry

Forced to endure chaos and anarchy

This has been a message from England's first rapper

documented Black Echoes magazine 1980

The hurricane revealed that Bush has a frozen in the 60's mind set

Welcome to reality

11:09 PM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

'He's a nigga! He's a nigga!'
Current mood: disappointed
Category: News and Politics

excerpt from 'Our heart of darkness' City Life Nov. 30th 2006

Michael Richards unleashed a rapid fire barrage of the N-word at the Laugh Factory in West Hollywood, with no attempt at humor, to remind us that America is, indeed, historically a nation of N-word addicts. And as such, we are a nation in denial. Malcolm X once pointed out, you cannot tell who all the bigots are simply by the words they do not use.

The N-word has been in this country from...1619, a year before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock.[A] black man was labeled a "negar", by John Rolfe, an early English settler and tobacco exporter.Soon thereafter, America began building itself on a foundation of guns, tobacco and slavery.Slavery became the machinery that produced tobacco.Tobacco was the first export to generate money for white settlers - to buy guns.And those guns were used, first, to keep "niggers" in their place...Arguably, without slaves there would be no United States, but rather a large block of land divided into smaller countries, like Europe.In short, those early black Americans, upon whose backs our first economy was created, were the real founding fathers (and mothers) of this country. And what was their reward? They were given an epithet: nigger. And little else.

It remains with us still, fortunately not as public or accepted as it once was. Comedian Richards recent gaffe reminded us of that....the median income for white households was $50,622 last year; for black households $30,939.Seventy-five percent of white households owned their homes; 46% of black households owned theirs.8% of white households lived in poverty versus 25% of black households.....our problem is not just one misguided actor/comedian in Hollywood.If the war in Iraq is any barometer - where America has established a beachhead to kill all the sandniggers in the world - we remain sadly a nation of racist nincompoops....For a reality check on the N-word, please read Randall Kennedy's

'Nigger: The strange career of a troublesome word'

and Citylife's Feb 6, 2003 cover story in its online archives (advanced search) type in the search word "nigger"

10:24 PM - 3 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Saturday, September 30, 2006

lulu.com/content/440685
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Writing and Poetry

This is the link to the website that is publishing the book I wrote that has my 9/11, President Evil and Speak on it poems

http://www.stores.lulu.com/knowledge

6:46 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment