i woke up woke
didn’t need a toke
because my dreams they spoke
some truth stuff
from some place
in another dimension . . .
the eye opening to daybreak
a gateway extension
 
woke up woke,
listen, this ain’t no joke,
no sleight-of-hand hocus-pocus
believe me i don’t do coke
nor pepsiCo. raping trees for palm oil
because they damn please,
them ad campaigns slick as sleeze,
sick as agri-bizwiz pesticided bees
(on my knees with blessings for the bees),
and him?, oh he’s just a symptom of a dis-ease,
DJT a lost soul trying to find himself
on Twitters and TVs
 
flip the channel
it’s all banal
you’d be better studying the oily geo-politics
of the Suez Canal,
or the sacred gateway
from spiritual to physical dimension
the female yoni and birth canal,
which the patriarchal blokes regard
as merely a region to poke--
but what comes out of the gateway,
you, me, he, she
and almost any
thing that’s found
is sacred . . .
like what comes out of the ground
 
we need slaves un-bound,
truth stuff found,
sitting in the round
and speaking, then not saying a word . . .
just listening for the sound
the air makes . . .
it’s not of this world
but in it,
like a dream that woke,
or a newborn that first spoke
but without words,
or a carrot pulled out of the soil,
you dig?