Radon

The past is reaching out to me
Wanted me to tell You
That he said “hi”
But its a present day now
I’m a future Me
The past still lives
Memories
The future disallows him to speak
Mature to the mistakes
He has yet to make
However

The future remembers the past
In certain realities
Granting him permission to speak
Never the full feint
Not even the margins
Just the negative spaces
Hiding between the lines
(Whatever that means)

He hopes that You are doing well
More than hopes he knows it to be true
Potential of your PWR
Stronger  than kale
In a world of infinite possibilities
Could have anything you want
If you put your intent to it

But the past is dead and gone
Existing only as memory
To a future still in development

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Past Lives

Orange sky smeared w/
Peach colored clouds
Silhouettes of pine trees
Beneath them
Littered amongst the bush and shrub
2 brothers
One man
One feline
Not versus rather
In-flow with a
Wild around them

On Digital IDs

Holla if ya hear me

It is no question we live in a futuristic society steadily advancing towards a Jetson insired space age. But with the advancements of technological wonder with every aspect of life becoming digitized, why won’t buissness retailers, polling stations, or any other agency requiring a consumer to provide legal identification, allow the consumer to use “Digital ID” as opposed to a physical copy of the very same identification?

I find it strange that in this Orwelian “Brave New World” (Huxley) we are entering, everything digital is accepted. From resumes, social media profiles to even the almighty dollar. Everything, except a citizens’ proof of identification when it comes to legal matters such as driving an automobile, purchasing legal drugs, or voting for the next puppet of these great United States of America.

The later example reminds me of a darker time in our nations history. When certain folk were not allowed to vote based on casste politics and when finally given the right to (after bloody struggle) were further disenfranchised by having to guess a certain number of jelly beans in a jar to recieve representation. In this new era of “progress,” where hue no longer has shade, I know my educated felons and poor people unable to afford the taxes and unable to reach the legal hoops placed upon identification recipitation can hear me while the upholders/supporters of a prejudiced system of disenfranchisment won’t.

But you dont hear me tho

Us

What the fuck can i say
We made a damn good team
New story same badass
In every incarnation
Sometimes a man
Better times a woman
Regardless of gender or class
Chemistry remained consistent
We traveled we joked
You’re the reason why the past is so dope
Why the memories stick to me
Cuz the present is static and the futures goin nowhere
Too busy preoccupied reminiscing bout Us

Optional Transfers

Hi. Nice to re-meet you
You remember me?
I was the kid who lived
Down the way
On the cheese we’d play
And you’d talk to me
About Anything
Cuz with me
Your secrets would be safe
Ms Tomiqua you still roll?
Cuz I’m older now
Back then
Much too inexperienced
To see all the signs
So ended up wastin a lotta my time
But it was ok
Cuz it was with chu