Phenzwaan - Poetry

All excerpts below are taken from FIRE & DIVINITY. Fire & Divinity by Phenzwaan is an extensive compilation and definitive collection of over 200 pages of his writing over the past 10 years. See Fire & Divinity in the menu section for more details.

THESE WORDS

Let these words...
eternally bless you
as they undress
and caress you
stroke you
and provoke you
open you
and evoke in you
a desire
wild as fire
a need irreplaceable
a passion aggressive and insatiable
a lust for loose lips
that drip
words in multiples
so freely, so frequent and so hot
that you wont want them to stop
running
but keep coming...and coming...and coming
Let these words get in you
touch every nerve and sinew
Let them send you hurled into
worlds renewed
serve you with a verse from the food of truth
shelter and clothe you
wash over you
clean you, redeem you
take you deep within parts of yourself you've never been to
thought you might never find, never see or in your life time get to go to
In their embrace let them enfold you, hold you, mould you and control you
Let them forever remind your spirit, mind, body and soul from head to toe that I, Phenzwaan, told you
to be...re...assured
and to make no mistake
that you can respect and take these words
or you can reject and hate these words
but you will never ever be able to forget or forsake these words
neglect or shake these words
dissect or break these words are
composed in phonetic code not verse
so such attempts would only serve to recreate these words
Even now as I speak, they seep deep into your subconscious changing from form to form like the universe...
Is...vast...are...free...
free as the unseen seed that freely grows
free as the unseen energy that freely flows
free as the very breath flowing from your nose
free as the unseen force of spiritual law that controls
Let them steal you, let them heal you, let them elevate your soul
These words of sustenance penned for empty bowls
Let them fill you up, warm you up, give you goose bumps, curl your toes
Let them itch you, let them scratch you, annoy you, get all up in your clothes
Let them course right through your veins like our ancestors woes
Let them in, let them under your skin, into your flesh, into your bones
Let them get to you, let them infect you, let them kill you, resurrect and rebuild you
These words used to raise slaves from the dead and they still do
Let them will you, fulfil you, distil you, thrill you
chill you in the blistering cold of their winter nights
singe you in the hot heat of their blazing sunlight
'cause you see, I want you to feel these words
digest these words, deep inside your chest conceal these words
breath these words as I speak these words
be replete with these words so even in sleep
you can repeat these words
I believe every soul across the globe should know these words
so I go tell these words, go sell these words
go through and repel hell with these words
and here now they dwell
like the tenacious scent of natures purest herbs
can you smell these words...
can you?
Permeating...like the sweet fragrance from Egyptian oils
pressed from precious flowers cultivated on Egyptian soil
just...lingering
Dip your fingers in
and hold these words, never let go of these words
always uphold these words
Never shun these words or run from these words
Instead, chase these words, come face these words
come taste these words
grafted from years of tears and pain
crafted on behalf of the slain
and all those still here in this struggle to maintain
And as many walk these cold streets begging for change
when will enough people see that they're not really begging for change
They are begging...for...change
And who knows, they may too claim me insane 'cause I'm here right now doing the same
so come take these words
before its too late for words
Assimilate these words, appreciate these words
articulate these words, perpetuate these words
And if the day should come
when men aim to tame these words, shame these words
change, rearrange, restrain or set up against these words
my friend, until the end...
Defend these words
And when my physical can no longer contain, comprehend, explain or ascend these words...
Remember these words
these lyrics
etched into the very depths of your spirit
Forever living, left where you'll never forget they exist
where you can never resist their rhythm
Hauntingly beautiful
they will be heard...
Until then, I'll keep giving
and giving and giving and giving
and giving and giving
these words.

SHE

She came to me in the broad light of days
Time told me her name by nights

She was a sent princess
She told me my name would be Prince

because personal realisation is necessary concerning elevation

P.R.I.N.C.E

because Personal Realisation Is Necessary Concerning Elevation

She smiled her light on me
And told me...

If I wanted her to

She would stay with me

For the rest of eternity...

SENSUOUS

Creeping out from the shadows into the morning after the night before
She finds herself an inner love divine, a woman's world,
A brighter side
As she now flies high like the birds, no longer caught up in delusion
For she had met his kind a thousand times
He who knew how to play on her mind and on the many truths her heart had spoken
How to play on her emotions and use them as tokens to keep her open
Long enough for him to keep playing, knowing he would leave her broken
Soaking in her tears
Hoping she would soon discover one who would come and erase the pain in her years
The pain that came through mans struggle to prove his masculinity
The hurt that came through a friend victim to her own selfish desires and helpless vanity
And the regret that stemmed from her own calamity and temporary insanity
In the midst of illusionary love
Love that never was
Love that never would be
She began to see that these previous tried and tested methods with the wrong lovers suggested that she was best with being strong within herself before others
She glances at her reflection in the stillness of the water honouring her skin
Silky and smooth
A sun-kissed satura of cinnamon and sepia as she serenely sings sweet soulful symphonies
As soothing as a septet served by seven seraphs
So solemn sonorous and sincere
Her sleek sound slowly softens and serenades the senses
Once a captive of her sensuality
This now prima donna causes serendipity to see its inabilities and be envious
For she is now queen of her destiny, ruler over her heart and senses
For she is now.. sensuous

© 2002 Phenzwaan

IF POETRY IS A WOMAN (Editors Choice Award 2005)

If poetry is a woman
Then tell everyone I'm seeing someone
And have been for a very long time
That I've had a lot of time to think
And everything is gonna be just fine
If poetry is a woman
Then tell everyone the wedding is not off
I've changed my mind
Whether lawfully or unlawfully
I take her as my wife
For the rest of my life
To have and to hold
Till death do us part
And that even in death we will remain together
Inseparable just as we were from the start
And that when I die they'll bury me with my dear poetry
in my heart
They'll say his woman was his true love
among all his works of art
If poetry is a woman
Then I wish to consecrate the vows now
To only make love to one woman
The same woman
Every night
Or whenever we like
Until out hearts delight
We will be with each other
And speak with each other
About everything and nothing
We will small talk and talk deep
About life and all that we seek
Until we are complete
And if ever she's asleep
I'll write her by candlelight
On vanilla coloured sheets
And there I'll stay
Studying her features
In awe and transfixed
Until daylight dawns upon her beauty once again
And she awakens and arises once more like a phoenix
If poetry is a woman
Then tell everyone that I've now got all the answers
To all their questions about me being in love
And that I'm now totally ready for commitment
And that finally, one woman is enough
That I'm a changed man
And that I'll be somewhere with the wife tonight
Even if they see me hangin' out at the club
I'll be with her
All the one-night stands and four week romances
I've given em' up
If poetry is a woman
I'm gonna' raise my daughter with poetry
So she can grow to see
Exactly how a woman should be
If poetry is a woman
I'm gonna teach my son how to treat poetry
So he will grow to see
How to treat life and how life is supposed to be
If poetry is a woman
Then you can go ahead and call off the search
Tell them I've finally found one I'm gonna' love with all that I'm worth
That she will undoubtedly be my first true love
And that with the things she does
She's got me stuck to her like glue
And hooked like a drug
And no rehabilitation is necessary, required, welcome or wanted
Tell everyone I said
I rather stay intoxicated, induced and under the influence of her instead
I can't resist her, I want her and yes her words always go to my head
We lay down, I touch her, she touches me and yes I get ink stains all over my bed
But never any regrets
'Cause if poetry is a woman
With her I've earned and learned my respect
I adore her every aspect
And if she is calling me to her aid
I will be there to accept
And if she wants me for her slave
I will fetch, carry and collect
To satisfy her request
With her ball and chain around my neck
I promise to properly serve and protect
Her interest to inspire and express
And to stand by her regardless of the effects
The only word she won't know is neglect
And if anyone to our union should object
We will simply live poetically incorrect
'Cause she fulfils me and everyday I want more of her as our relationship grows more beautiful and more complex
The only things I've ever really been addicted to are poetry and sex
And the only things that have ever cause me any real pain are poetry and sex
But if poetry is a woman
Then God knows the only thing I'm prepared to remain faithfully committed to is poetry
The only thing I've ever really been able to call my own
So what else could one expect
And when they speak of our wedding
They'll say this is what I said
I love no other more than my beloved poetry
So with this pen
I thee wed.

MY DR. MARTENS (Dr.Marten's Nationwide Award Competition Winner)

I own a pair of boots, a pair of Dr. Martens.. yeah I do
And every time I wear them I feel so brand new
Elated by and hooked on their ability to make me look better than you
Yes, ego gets a real boost but not just any old pair of shoes mind you
Been around since 1960 and they still shine too
Still top of the line too
When I'm in my DM's I'm pleased
These are the D's in it's been a DM good day
The M's in much more manageable than blue suede
My top of the range Goodyear Welted construction and heat sealed soles
are designed so my feet won't see holes
I won't feel cold in my Performance Leather
like those with their toes exposed in cold weather
My EVA filler with Bouncing Soles give me so much pleasure
At work or at leisure
My DM's can make me smart, smooth, rude, cool or clever
I treat them like a baby, taking the utmost coochy-coo care
Had the Gucci shoe even had the Nike Air
But nothing can compare
to my Dr. Martens Air Wair.

I WRITE (as featured on BBC3 SLAM Poets & Chicken Shed Theatre production Globaleyes)

I said it before, so I'm only gonna' say it once
I write for those born on the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th day of the month
I write for monks and christians
nuns and hare krishna's
those who carry guns and ammunition
all governmental systems
arabians, muslims and ancient egyptians
I write for all those in life desiring higher positions
I write for the man on a mission
and the independent woman making her own decisions I write for buddhists, jews and rastafarians
hindus, vegans, meat eaters and vegetarians
I write for lawyers and librarians
historians, taurans and aquarians
sagittarians and all the others
I write for baby mothers
and baby fathers
barbers
I write for the fishmongers down at the Barbados harbours
for the governments trying to starve us
or retard us from feeding us garbage
I write for nurses and doctors
surgeons, pilots in planes and helicopters
hip-hoppers
gatecrashers and show stoppers
police and traffic-blockers
menders
street-vendors on street corners
coroners and mourners
I write for crackheads and kids on mopeds
divorcees and newlyweds
widows and weedheads
I write for the dead
I write for presidents of countries
asses and monkeys
junk food junkies
girls that dumped me
and the mob that once jumped me
I write for rapists and serial killers
ex-cons and escaped prisoners
I write for forgiveness
I write pain 'cause I live this
I write with vividness
to create vivid pictures with vivid images
I write for infidelity and religiousness
believers and atheists
I write for the craziest and the laziest
I write for geologists and ufologists
all scientists in all sciences in all fields
I write for big deals so I can eat comfortably and not have to steal
I write what I feel
hardly fictitious when it's all real
it's what knowledge is
I write for theologists
and fools
colleges and schools
tutors and students
unions and movements
I write for health and institutions of self-improvement
I write for new-born babies
men in uniform and scorned old ladies
I write for queens and kings
a drunkard
and two tramps going through rubbish bins
natives and foreigners
old war heroes and warriors
emergency services and couriers
beggars and borrowers
campaign leaders
and followers
I write for united nations
illegal organisations
miseducation
and my own denomination
among the commuters of a packed out train station
I write for the man who tills the plantation
I write for aggravation and lack of patience
I write for maniacs and psychos
with no diagnosed head cases
I write in strange places
sometimes alone, sometimes among strange faces
I write for status
and for those who think it's wrong for me to wanna' be famous
I write shameless
not careless or aimless
I write for world peace
I write for rappers, actors, singers and athletes
I write for nightclubbers and lovers
sisters and brothers
my one-night stands with no rubbers
I write for poetry and MC
for mic love and CD
for collection and PC
for music and movie
for dub and publicity
for love and unity
I write for you
I write for me
so hopefully we can see now
that the hand that writes
is as good as the hand
that holds the plough.

FEEL

Was beginning to feel cursed, wasted...losing faith in relationships
But then the police can only escort a man away from the home of his children
so many times before he starts to feel that way about shit
Thinking in my soul I know there has to be much better than this
And sitting in that prison cell long enough can also play mind tricks
I mean, how many times can a man stand a woman disrespecting his mother on her own doorstep before he flips
Or how many times will he refrain from just turning up and breakin' the door down when she says no...you cant see your kids
Disturbing the peace
But where is the peace in keeping a father from his child and a child from its dad
Especially when a mother knows that's something she can't give
Not to mention something she herself may've never even had
But too often when a woman feels hurt, when a woman feels scorned
What baby might need and feel aint really the real issue at hand
Its more like what is the best weapon I have to hurt this man
Like he hurt me
How dare he leave me
Don't care if he loves his child, he aint gonna see this baby
And there's me...
Young 23, wild and crazy
Dusting off my fatigues and dessert boots from my solo expedition
Egyptian sun still in my braids, skin glistenin', nile water still in my system
4 years down the road, Virginia heat can't compare
And what I've been envisioning is clear
As I'm repositioning
Sitting in your passenger seat, and sweetness, I don't think you're listening
When I say I'm a stranger here
That I have never felt like this
You came out of nowhere
Unknowingly restoring my faith in relationships
And I know we've both had our fair share of crazy shit
That's how I know exactly how this feels for you
When you say you're scared of disappointment
But nothing is certain and our tomorrow is not promised
So let's just share the enjoyment
And to be honest
I've been looking forward to today, us being here together again
You are an extraordinary person
I see myself in you, I feel like you understand me
And I want us to be more than friends
And I don't care if that might sound cliché
But these are some of the things I've been only waiting to say
Since our date, on the train, on the bus, at the show
How do I explain
To a woman I really barely even know
That I can hear and read her pain
That I'm beginning to believe there's more to our connection and its real
How do I too let go of the fear and the pride, of all the layers and the lies to tell you
This...is how I feel

BLOODSTAINED CONCRETE

As this bloodstained concrete beneath my feet
speaks yet another volume of more death in the street
It tells of more police meeting and maintaining agendas of another mission complete
by keeping more drug dealers in business even if this is only for a time at least
It speaks of gun crime on the increase
And of mums finding no peace
from crying without cease
from seeing their young ones dying in the streets
Sometimes it sings when it speaks
Sad songs of all the wrongs and all the grief
Come stand with me
Upon this haunting ground, in this taunting place
And hear the cries of this once ordinary grey pave
that now wears a bloodstained face
as it tells the in-depth stories of murder, brutality and violation
inflicted on innocent victims in countless police stations
It says the same blood running across the floor in there
is the same blood you see staining my face out here
Its cold voice cuts through me raw and authoritative
Speaking of corrupt law enforcement officers
and fraudulent governments
who ship in and fly in weapons and drugs
as if mental enslavement isn't enough
without blood on the pavement
Distributing them throughout our communities
Adding further fuel to our death, decline and disunity
Hurting
While they just sit back and watch us destroy each other
Discuss how good its working
then order their wicked workmen
their crooked coppers to arrest and try and pocket the profits off of us
in this grandiose design
Designed to meet a grandiose purpose
Black blood continues to spill out into the streets 'cause in the laws grand scheme of things its worthless
'Too late for doctors and nurses'
cries this
here cold concrete as it continues to record these injustices upon its surface
Word is..
'You might die here', on what the local papers call 'Murder mile'
But don't be discouraged, come stand with me a while
Upon this haunting ground, in this taunting place
Where the pavement stays shiny red from the common blood on its face
yes, shiny red
With more shine than hair designed with products by Nexxus
More glistening than a Gucci diamond necklace
Runs smoother and faster than a brand new Lexus
And draws more attention than a girl group from Texas
yes
Come stand with me
And hear these tainted streets cry freedom
Freedom from the blood of those bleeding
But there comes no relief from the guns and drugs they keep feeding
into our communities
Destroying our belief in love and unity
With so much evil in our neighbourhood
its difficult to see any good
Then we wonder why our youngsters don't behave as they should
Its all.. in the mind.. control.. system.. of thieves
Don't take my brain away..
need to think..
or soon we'll be.. extinct
by this strategically manufactured disease
Mass genocide is taking place outside and on our TV's
Right before our eyes
and still millions of closed minds cant see
that this is all by design and meant to be
Mentally, physically and spiritually its deep
There goes another soul put to sleep
through drugs and gun crime on the increase
Everyday its the same old repeat
And as this cold wind blows through me
I stand here listening to the testimonies
of this bloodstained concrete beneath my feet
speaking yet another volume
of more death
in the street.

MYSTICAL AUTHENTIC PERFECTION

And there I was,
feeling vibed out and ready for a night out
I walked up to the club where couples were cueing up
with single women in fours and brothers hoping to score for sure
I could hear the DJ playing so the band we're still setting up
You see, I love live music and can't get enough
Started singing along to the song
Finally I came to the door
paid my five and went inside, felt the eyes on me but ignored
I went downstairs, Clive and Seymour were there
drinking and joking about some woman's hair, didn't care
I looked around glad to see a few faces that I knew
saw a lot more that I didn't, but that was cool too
The band started to play and the host came out singing 'Killing Me Softly'
But some people we're blocking me, so I moved to where I could see properly
She sung another two songs and then she announced the first artist
She came on stage to perform and that's where it all started
It was more than mystical the way she grabbed the mic device
and with a voice smooth like chocolate
proceeded telling my whole life, it was nice
with an authenticity that could only be known to me
Indeed she had a perfection it seemed that only I could see
and the way that she moved to and fro up and down the stage
had me feeling so many ways
I was in a daze amazed from the way that she handled the vocal melody
I became her patient and she became my remedy
She definitely had the counteractive for me
the medicine, the cure, the antidote and the relief
She had me hot
But please I didn't want her to stop
this is hip hop
I wanted her to carry on singing her song
all night long
until everyone else was gone
Don't give a damn if I'm right or wrong
this is where she belongs
Doing what I believe she was divinely made for
Singing so sweet, so raw and hard-core over the beat
So precise and so complete, so expressive and unique
Who's gonna' step up and compete after this one
To me she's second to none
I've seen so many come and only some get the job half done
and at first I was unsure of her intentions
But she's taken me into heights and dimensions
way too much...
to mention.

THE A.R.T.I.S.T (as performed at the Institute of Contemporary Arts, 2001)

(The Abilities Required To Inspire Sacred Things)

He always says a few short mantras in the form a quiet prayer to himself as he carefully selects and lays out his choice of brushes and colours he would be using for that particular day, he would say 'there's a certain creative doorway you must mentally pass through before you can ever even have a hope in making love to the canvas' you see, it was his belief that each new canvas should be treated like a beautiful woman you were being intimate with for the first time, the same care with which she would be touched is the same care with which you should use the brush, from beginning to end, from the very first time you approached 'til the moment you departed, he said, 'each and every stroke should be exact, precise and accounted for by the artist, nothing should be accidental or without reason, the artist must understand and be in tune with the principles governing the higher self, allowing him to account for all he produces both in the conscious mind and in the sub-conscious'.

He often spoke of karmic law, applying it in the idea that the canvas could only be a reflection of what the painter had initially put into it, hence he never failed to stress the importance of preparation and forming the right energy within the space in which you were going to work, for this reason he had designed his easel so that it could safely hold a candle burning at both sides, he said for him, the presence of them added something to his environment and his creative spirit, he said, 'but each painter has his own thing, whether its candles, the smell of incense, a particular type of lighting, music, even food whatever, but he will have something, even if the painter doesn't realise it himself consciously, there will always be something used to enhance mood, even if involuntary, but the key to mastery is being aware of the affects of their presence and to then choose appropriately according to what you were aiming to achieve for that particular painting'.
He never kept the subjects of painting and the mind far apart, he often talked about the importance of developing a photographic memory, he said, 'the painter must become like a sponge, absorbing all that he sees, soaking up the entirety of the atmosphere that surrounds him, both indoors and out'.

And on the subject of versatility he would say, 'the artist must master how to alter and shift from a blissful state of mind to a despondent state of mind at the blink of an eye', he said this is necessary in terms of the artist reaching different extremes within his art, he would say, 'the artist must learn how to make triple M's out of double M's' meaning the artist must learn how to make magnificently mellow moments out of melancholy moods and vice-versa, 'even if he doesn't feel that way he must create it because its the result he wants, which are the thoughts and the emotions that are stirred in all that see his work'.

All excerpts above are taken from FIRE & DIVINITY. Fire & Divinity by Phenzwaan is an extensive compilation and definitive collection of over 200 pages of his writing over the past 10 years. See Fire & Divinity in the menu section for more details.