Mc angel

It’s always a pleasure making art for fellow artists. This was commissioned by a friend of the very talented MC Angel. I used symbolic representation of her values and her own lyrics to make this portrait.

Check out her spoken word poetry here:

Kind stranger

She was a kind stranger, I had never met anything of the kind, or anyone stranger…

To some a freak, to me unique

To some she seemed lazy, and a coward… To me she was bravery and power.

To me she was sweet, to some sour…

She told me she didn’t care about them, or me, in-fact, she was only there to smell the flowers…

Under the influence

The waves danced like devine feline across the shoreline, to the tune of a moon so full ,it could have worn out a ware wolf.  she was refelcting the suns light when the days got darker, she went through her phases but she was always there, on time, in rhythim. contantly influencing under the influence. A guiding light in the blinding night, some payed her no mind, she was out of thier scope.. but to the creatures that didnt sleep at night….she was a beacon of hope

 

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In colour and in rhyme

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the walk

“We are all here for a reason on a particular path
You don’t need a curriculum to know that you’re apart of the math
Cats think I’m delirious but I’m so damn serious
That’s why I expose my soul to the globe; the world
I’m tryin’ to make it better for these little boys and girls
I’m not just another individual
My spirit is a part of this, that’s why it’s spiritual
But I get my hymns from him
So it’s not me, it’s he, that’s lyrical
I’m not a miracle, I’m a heaven sent instrument
My rhythmatic regiment navigates melodic notes
For your soul and your mental
That’s why I’m instrumental, vibrations is what I’m into
Yeah I need my loot by rent day
But that ain’t what gives me the heart of Kunta Kinte
I’m tryin’ to give us us free like Sinke
I can’t stop, that’s why I’m hot
Determination, dedication, motivation
I’m talking to you of my many inspirations
When I say I can’t let you or self down
If I were on the highest cliff, on the highest riff
And if you slipped off the side, and clinched on to your life,
In my grip. I would never ever let you down
And when these words are found
Let it be known that God’s penmanship has been signed
With a language called love
That’s why my breath is felt by the death
And while my words are heard and confined to the ears of the blind
I too dream in color and in rhyme

So I guess I’m one of a kind in a full house
Cause whenever I open my heart, my soul or my mouth
A touch of god reigns out.” 

This poem by j. Ivy. was recorded on the track “never let you down” on kanye wests graduation album in 2004 .

 

 

Shadow of supremacy

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 They stand against the light to cast shadows, that make our paths dark, it’s no wonder we got lost on our way home. We once sat on gold thrones, now we beg thieves for a place in our own home…

we’ve been taught to fight their shadows, with the shade we throw, while the grave they dug for us grows and grows…Go to their schools to borrow our own ideas, the innovators become imitators, in hopes to integrate, into their hateful ways..  

 When they can’t break us, they’ll force us to bend, and blend, into the violent trends they set without regrets. They’ll pretend to be our friends, tell us they mean “no offence” …while keeping our very being misunderstood.

Until we end up in a shadow war with no end. Cast by burning crosses ,pointed hoods…and fear 

 

miss kemet

They would ridicule, they would laugh.

They would stand in her way with envy and wrath.

but she builds pyamids with the blocks they place in her path.

she knows the shadow of the great sphinx could be cast by a scare crow,

and so, her fears would rule her if she didn’t learn to let go…

when she did, miss kemet had become  Pharoah.

 

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“I am not a perfect soul, i am a soul perfecting… i am not a human being, i am a human becoming” -egyptian book of the dead

lusting real love

I try not to get too caught up in appearances, but how could I not lust for lips that speak truth… How could I, not get lost in eyes, that have seen love in everything. How could I not marvel at a selfless smile… And how could I, not long to hold, a body that is home to such a beautiful soul?

Fake flowers 

Dear inventor of fake flowers, why?

I understand that maybe you just wanted to capture beauty and keep it forever,

but don’t you let people believe that looks will last.

Didn’t you realise that there is beauty in aging,

that there is character to the bunch with a few wilting stems?

You can’t trick me into believing that there is beauty in perfection,

see I’ve tried to reach it and failed many times.

Starved of water, we all die,

so how can pretty be pretty without the spark of alive?

See, this bunch may have been beautiful at first glance,

but I’ve had it for years now and nothings changed.

No new sprouts, no death-

No need to nurture and love for that won’t affect these fakes.

I don’t even look at them anymore.

Beautiful as they may be, they are less beautiful to me knowing that this is all that they will ever be.

Dear lover,

please don’t ever buy me fake flowers with the hope that I will feel comforted by everlasting beauty.

Buy me ones that will die.

One’s that I will therefore cherish for every moment that they are alive,

One’s with bruised petals and wilting stems but still fragrant so that I can see that beautiful is more than meets the eye.

Dear inventor of fake flowers, why?

Poetry by the amazingly talented https://fontsize4poetry.com

Blossom 

As I shift my focus towards what the lotus shows us,

I start to notice so much more,

its like hocus pocus and I’m free from the locust swarm of the norm,

returning to the form In which was born.

A new seed planted in my mind.

I Fertilised my perspective, to be less selective.

I now adore what I once abhorred.

I looked past the lies, and found I could photosynthesise… because that light inside us all…seems to be the only thing that feeds my eyes at all.
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Naked 

Optimism, the stunning dress that accentuates her curves, the make-up that brings out her best features, a mask to hide all her beautiful flaws…

Pessimism
, the comfy outfit that makes it look like she didn’t try, the dark shades that cover the sparkle in her eyes, the thick blanket in a gloomy slumber. a dark cloak to cower under…

Realism
, the very skin she was born in, the way she is and not the way she wants to be seen, no clothes, jewelry, shoes or belts. nothing, but a naked reflection of her true self.

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(model: Danielle Sams)