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The Poetry of Robert Jones, Jr. Part 9

Updated on March 30, 2017

Guerrilla poetry

Guerrilapoetry-edited version


Robert l. jones, jr.

(Osiris andwele chinelo)

Many of those madly charismatic utterances of

Some bombastic veracity would be hotly bubbling

Like volcanic lava inside of the soon-to-be erupting

Larynx of a wily antagonist [on the loose], and without the

Harboring sanctuary of some forewarning protection

From the undercover chatter of a tattle tale-talking

Informant, there would most definitely be the greatly

Molten explosion of a disenfranchised underdog’s

Magmatic issues of combative chants and them battle-

Waging mantras of assertive fury-and-aggression,

Which be a’shooting up-on-high and be agrily illuminating

The cerulean infinity of a hopelessly endangered

Welkin and would violently incinerate a cumulous

Multitude of puffy distractions and overcastting hindrances

That have been working overtime in their melancholic

Pursuits in blindly eclipsing the lively shekinah glow

Of that scintillatingly luminary of day breaking virtue

And radiating energy, but in that radically scathing

Instance of some smoldering provocation, shonuff there

Would be those stoned unquenchable armaments of ra-

Comsuming messages and the highly combustible parables-

Of-thoth, which be heavily loaded up within my readily

Contending cipher-of-confrontation like the fully automatic

Shells inside the clandestine shelter of a banana

Clip, and there would absolutely be no wasted space nor any

Utterly barren latitude for imaginary stupidity to be

Falsely concocted against my immutable reflections of

Articulate anarchy, for revolutionary truth be on

My side and an unadulterated candor-of-self be the

Ostensible essence of my organic-and-phantasmic plain-

Of-existence, and with a boldly exposed voice of resonant

Sincerity I am on that solid proclivity in insight-blasting

My subversive artillery of consciousness-piercing

Projectiles that be putting to death them rivaling

Deliberations of a so-called majority’s judgmental

Assumptions that don’t be really knowing or relating to

The strictly b.a.d. entirety of my proudly

Evincing personality-of-kingliness, and there just

Ain’t no bulletproof vest or an impenetrable shield

Of slug-catching defense for the moronic ridiculousness

Of a feebleminded fool’s stinging curse of discriminating

Ignorance, but all of those secretly calculating psyches

That be savagely hating on my humanly accurate

Expressions of earth-wrought and blood-begotten acclaim

Will each become poetically assaulted targets and piece-

Riddled victims of word-capping decimation after

My eagerly quickened finger has finally released its

Guerrilla-likened hold from that trigger-happy

Munition of my lyrically blue steel(ed) revolver,

Which I bravely have secured and got keenly reserved

Along the holstered concealment of my soulfully

Stealthy mind set, so without any panicky concern

Or worrisome alarm for those wickedly oppressive

Censors that be desperately desiring for me to

Keep quiet and to be forever muted in boyish docility,

There exists this terribly rebellious impulse for

Wrathful lungs and an ireful diaphragm to force

Out the choleric respiration of some militant

Verbage and that mightily politicizing wordage of

Literary brimstone, and with such intensely raging

Narratives of bodacious fervor would I be so

Perfectly delighted in allowing them to just

Brazenly skedaddle free from the gravel-sounding

Pitch and roughly enunciating accent of naturally

Raspy language, and with that supremely impassioned

Flux of adamant expectation will I ultimately witness

The apocalyptic aftermath of predatory philosophies and

Them vulturous ideologies of hatefully aged absurdity,

Because inflammatory verses and rallying cries of

Insatiable fire would hastily rain down upon them all

Like nuclear bombs and atomic warheads of powerfully

Burning magnitude, and in that eye-twinkling moment of

Some disappearing doom, the devil’s acrimonious

Attitudes of biased hostility against my magnificent

Glory of being way more than just a lowly minority

Will gloomily experience that vaporizing oblivion of

Becoming a shonuff obsolete-and-scattered-out holocaust scene

Of cosmic dust and ashy particles galore, and hence I would

Be on that vocab-ventilating verge of blowing it all

Away from before me with that windstorm-rushing

Velocity of some funky carbon dioxide laced

Phonetically with a wildly exhaling lexicon of

Veridical statements-in-black, which only be on their

Eruditely out-of-sight profession in positively

Sounding out that surely stellar description of

My masterfully incarnate presentation as

Gamba/hashim/jabari: an enmity-massacring

Vanguard of pugnacious struggle-and-strength, who

Is courageously soldiering on in that trooper-footed

Recognizance of totally destroying them

Antipathetic fables and racially unstable conjectures and

Theoretical insanity with the loudly exclaiming

Caliber of a fervently sparked tongue, which will

Evermore be speaking forth their ferociously

Potent speeches of sobering rancor and that warring

Dialect of healthful indignation, until a thoughtfully

Livid system of perverse tyrants and pallid adversaries

Would all effectually change up the gross error of

Their slavedriver ways and be truly willing to

Justly share the bounteous wealth of some peacefully

Equalizing parity with a country-wide party of

Brothers-and-sisters who are outside of the cultural

Aesthetic and the ethnical persuasion of European ancestry///


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