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Poems from the Darker Side

Updated on February 15, 2016

An Explanation (Of a sorts).

I feel compelled to say something about "Genitek's Origin". Most people know of the five physical Elements of Creation namely, Fire, Air, Earth, Water and Spirit. I have uncovered sixteen however. No one taught me this, I figured them out using the information from my years of research into the metaphysical mysteries. There are sixteen elements in all. Five physical, five mental, five spiritual and one that has the aspects of all three...Word. I am very interested in reactions to this poem. Happy Hubbing!

Genitek’s Origin II

In the beginning …

Fire

Begat Air. Air incorporated dust

And called out Earth

Who begat Water.

Water distilled Spirit

And Spirit raised the

Law.

Law nurtured Order

Who married Chaos

And begat the Center.

The Center was full of himself and

Took no time to beget. But

In later years, he adopted Good.

Good went to college with Evil, they ran

Away to Argentina but only

Nothing came of it. Nothing married the Purpose

Who had a plan. Purpose’s plan was Spite

Who was Three in One. But

Was the plan done? Spite engaged the elements

To manifest WILL and WORD. Will

Was lower, Word was higher. Will

Was cold, Word was

Bold. Will was the engine

Word was the driver.

Will loved coolant, while Word

Loved

FIRE !!!!


Contributed by:

Raffael Remario Rattee aka RE

Spirit in Charge of the Ability of Compulsion

A Picture of the Life

I want to focus you on the honey! Can you see how rich it is? Straight off the property. Superlative Stuff. Trust me!
I want to focus you on the honey! Can you see how rich it is? Straight off the property. Superlative Stuff. Trust me!

WEED LIFE (For the Smoker in You)

Big up Winston Durrant and the Aftermath Staff…Man call Martin (Nelson) Hayles …Bless!!

Standing at the corner, waiting on a bus, taking a piss, dick long like oesophagus! Here comes a guy, begging coins, stink soaring from his groin. I know he wants cash to make coke lines. He asks again, so I tell him “NO! Move along funky monk, make your day go slow!” He mumbles for a moment, and then gives me the evil eye. This punk wants to blow my high for whiskey on rye. I watch him walk on, before long he’s gone, like the dazzling sunlight on a misty morn. I know I should tolerate, but junkies I hate, let me work for mine when they want shit on a plate. The bus has come but I’ve changed my mind, I think I will walk! The engines music leaves me behind.

At the weed spot, the Sun suits up a fat hundred bag. Ignorant niggas over there talking foolishness about God. I don’t listen, just in case what I hear makes me mad. Yeah, sometimes it’s that bad, the weed life ain’t no fad. But still I remain glad that I did not make my Mom sad.

Now that I have the chronic, there is no need to panic. The doctors say I’m manic, but my fires fret them frantic. They cross the Atlantic to perform all kinds of antics. I watch and smile, since suckas can’t cramp my style. Then they try to sell me drugs, but my remedy is Herbal. This is because I know the road to life eternal. And don’t think I’m special, I sweated like sex in the desert to get this medal. I wear dreads sometimes but did not know Selassie I, as far as I’m concerned, MY Father is “Ra’s Star For I”. Plus a lot of these long haired idiots are spies, I know, cause their mouths are fountains of lies. Betwixt farmers and freaks and funky hair dyes, realize without surprise the disguise with which I&I rise!

My people are with me, it is Dominion time. We have come to control many continents and climes. We celebrate life and create extra-ordinary times, and then Lloyd laughs loudly while drinking vodka and lime. Asthma ain’t no problem cause chronic cleans the lungs, neither is pyorrhea cause ganja good for gums. And don’t think that this GOD goes for guns, I have the ability to make the gunboy run. Once the fool catches sight of Holy Light, he is galloping and screeching, fleeing from fear of the fight.

Ha! Here I am home, free of the road. I sit on my chair and I take off a load. Listening to laughter next door, I build a perfect spliff. Light up and exhale slowly, so stupid neighbors can get a whiff. Music! I put in a CD, this one is Biggie Smalls, the music makes me recall taking Nicky to the mall. I see that dress she bought, I got her some sexy drawers that night, I was so hot later, I bit her there for spite. Then lots of loving later, I know I did her right. All that moaning! She requested another bite!

Laughing and rocking now, I take another pull. Life is a dream, when happiness comes on full. The weed life is for me, I don’t believe that I can change. Even if idiots think I’m strange, “Judge Not” is the law no guy can rearrange. From the king in the Jacuzzi to the police officer at the range… if you think that weed is a drug then you are bloody strange! As I smoke, I think, “Fools believe that they are wise, that is why the weed, which is medicine is illegalized.”

I regret the confusion, but for now, I will pay it no mind. You see, I have my own axe to grind, my own Heaven to find, my own wall to lime. Maybe the issue will be important another time. But for now, I’ll sit on my chair and stare at the troposphere. Content and clear completely without fear, bliss is here.


Contributed by: William Harold Christie

aka Word. (Spirit of Linguistic Ability)

Blessings from above (in my opinion)

In Jamaica we have no winter, we have a rainy season and a dry season. I call the climate "Eternal Spring", because you can plant and reap all year round.
In Jamaica we have no winter, we have a rainy season and a dry season. I call the climate "Eternal Spring", because you can plant and reap all year round.

Rain

For Ren and Avis

By Cammy

Blow some icy rain towards the West and make a flood,

The drains are dirty so they will run thick with blood.

The Mother smells it coming; she alights to protect her brood,

If this storm caught her a flight, she would probably call it rude.

It would probably make her nude, the strength this guy packs,

More than enough water to break their stacks and send them back

To sackcloth and ashes, the water carries seven rashes,

Plus viruses galore, to make the epidemiologists want tour.

CDC is on the phone, they want to stay at my home so they

Have the chance to roam, and poke stone sticks through sick bones.


It is all cool with me, make it messy, as long as I have some sensi to pull.

God flows through me strong and zesty, keeping me complete and full.

There will be few trees left before this boy takes an ease,

The pressure will break by bars, the temperature will fall in degrees.

It will pull pious prayers from the churches begging God, “Please,

Put a stop to this storm from hell!” But on the upside it will fill wells,

And ponds and rivers will all be swole…but what of the death toll?

Pigs, cows and chicks all gone - others in travail to be lost before the morn.

Grandma’s house washed out, the housing scheme flashed out,

Several places underwater see the Paige’s crying daughter.


As for me…it’s all good see? Just as it should be,

I reminisce on ’81’s Allen or ’59’s Charlie,

I chat and sing and rap while the rain is falling.

And at the end the air is clean

Free from dirt, if you know what I mean,

The green comes back, eternally forgiving,

Just being here makes me want to go on living,

It is life in a tropical paradise.

The rhythm makes me wise.

There’s a Storm Brewing

(For Massa D & Fugi)

Big up Prophet and Real! My cousins.


There’s a storm brewing, I can only hope

With the churches stewing, I guess they’ll cope.

More wind than “Ivan” more rain than “Nicole”

It is enough for you to sell your soul.

Got to stock up on gas and buy some coal.

‘Cause surely the “Public Service” will lose control

Sardines and corned beef will keep me eating

Even while the roof takes a beating

And most essential is hard dough bread

Even though by the end, it will be as hard as lead.


There’s a storm brewing, so keep your gun oiled

The looters are coming, so make their pants soiled.

And keep them spoiled; after all, it’s your property!

You did not get it by winning the lottery.

The Prime Minister is on the radio keeping the people calm

But he would not spend any money if there was no storm

Those on the hilltops will have sex with their mates

While those in the gullies will have to evacuate

And the pastors in the churches will anticipate

A greater offering and tithes, after the rains inundate.

After all, it is Satan in the storm, and it is

He who made the falling tree, break the man’s arm.

There is a storm brewing and I for one will bless

Nature’s terrible awesome glory, which makes man’s power a mess.

jAbo

NOONDAY MEDITATION

For Pokey. (Big up yourself, Stacey Hines!)

By Cammy

I rhyme everyday like the Daily Bread, sometimes planned sometimes

Straight off the head, and it’s all for you, to relax your mind,

To give you breadth, something to reflect on when you find,

That time is guilty of suppressing lime. I man will never let

Money subtract what I should get. That is just me, a part of

My identity. Feel free to be what you want to be. But that is

Just how I’ll stay, for the rest of the way.


Some need the Son to make them one. Some wan the Man

To reveal the plan, to give transparency for free, where them

Get that from? We call it bullshit philosophy. Not even if the plea

Will we give any lee-way too late for shit like that, the horse gone

Through the gate, the stew bubbles in the pot. Yes man, it is time

For the Sun to shine, to burn away filth and make all things divine.

Ain’t no making water into wine or any such tricks, the whole thing

We will fix, from city center to the outlying districts.

From Rocky to the Bricks, ain’t nothing missing this.


Here is an example, an in a nutshell sample, we claim to

Hate prostitution but it is our oldest institution. That of

Making women into whores was one of Governor Morgan’s chores.

Fire and Bedsores on the one who came up because of girls on the

Floor! The Lion roars dissatisfaction because of our feigned inaction.

Feigned cause in truth we spend up the grands, to ensure that the

Show goes on – and all the while this a go on, "inna fi we land"

The churches sing songs as them only response. Them create

Their own dance, so that their people can prance also.

Well, a so it a go, who am I to fuck with the flow. As long as it makes

The dough grow, I just want to be in the know, nobody don’t have to

Worry – I will keep it low. I can work with program and burn it slow.

I can shine so hard you’ll see my face all aglow. Black like a John Crow’s

Feather, but far heavier. For heaven I am readier.

Toni-Ann Jobson

Toni is my second living child. She is currently a real estate broker. At twenty three, she is doing very well; I am very proud!
Toni is my second living child. She is currently a real estate broker. At twenty three, she is doing very well; I am very proud!

Soul

(for the archangels Aleya, Toni-Ann, Ashley)


Good morning greets my daughters

Bountiful plentiful waters. Bless!

It is a good day today. Yes!

It is a good way to stay

Good morning says to you, I know

Everything else is true. Bless!

It is a good day today. Yes!

This is a good way to stay.

In life and school and history,

Them fill me with fool and mystery

Yet, Jah Jah make the way for me

Yes, Jah Jah set the play for me.


So… the mountains and waters kiss my soul.


And when the morning is over

I expect the best from my lovers

Yes! It is a good day today,

Bless! It is a good way to stay

To keep me here you need no lever

I want be here forever. Bless!

It is a good day today. Yes!

It is a good way to stay,

For wife and child and family

I raise up my gun so handily

Bless! My Jah make the way for me.

Yes! My Jah set a play for me.


So… the mountains and waters kiss my soul.

Sandren and Son.

Sandren refers to me as her "other daddy". She is as you can see, a beautiful person. Her character matches her skin completely. Big up yourself young lady! Much Love.
Sandren refers to me as her "other daddy". She is as you can see, a beautiful person. Her character matches her skin completely. Big up yourself young lady! Much Love.

Nothing

For Sandren


I am not nothing; I see everything

Clear. From a nothing or nor standpoint.

I want you to come to I,

To see what I see, to feel what

I feel, for nothing is not real!


Can you chill and not think about nothing?

Or are you an OCD child consumed with everything?

Let I heal what you feel is wrong,

Let I show you why it has continued for so long.

Why the wheres and the whens

Have been trapped in a pen

And unlike ink have not been allowed to run,

To make money, to travel or to have fun.


They have been held in a fight like boxers in a ring

Against each other; know that it is a result of sin.

For from standing on nothing it is possible to

No everything.

And in doing so,

Ultimately win!

yAAd.

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    • coreyjobson71 profile image
      Author

      Corey Sean Oliver Jobson 18 months ago from Jamaica

      Hey Jodah, thanks a lot for commenting, I appreciate it very much. It's reactions like this that encourage me to continue to express. Blessings Brother!

    • Jodah profile image

      John Hansen 18 months ago from Queensland Australia

      An interesting read. There is so much to try and take in and decypher in these poems. Thanks for sharing.