Within The Pages Of My Poetry
By: Michael Kamau
Copyright 2011
Chapter 1: Within The Pages Of Michael Kamau’s Poetry
1. Within The Pages Of My Poetry
2. Note To Self
3. I Feel Like Writing A Poem
4. I’m Too Honest For This Society
5. Microphone Michael
6. A New Sheriff In Town
7. Spoken Word Wizard
8. My Unique Writing Technique
9. One Day Without Poetry
10. Angelina’s Successor
11. I’m Beginning To Realize The Purpose For
Which I Was Born
12. Economic Suicide
13. Mistakes
14. Dear Mister Terrorist
15. Life Of A Humble Poet
16. Alone For The Holidays
17. I Rhyme When I Write
18. Fantasies Are Free
19. I Usually Don’t Write About Love
20. Through The Eyes Of A Humble Poet
Chapter 2: Poetry For The Enlightened Individual
21. Mistress Pain
22. Soldiers Of Sensitivity
23. Way Of The Turtle
24. A Poet Attempting To Describe Zen
25. Temple Of The Soul
26. The One Secret Almighty God Kept For
Himself
27. A Sober Mindset
28. Addicted To Infatuation
29. For The Future Artists Of Planet Earth
30. Virtuous Lessons
31. Can A Poem Save A Life?
32. The Sweetest Fast
33. Microphone Test
34. Original Sister
35. Starving Artists Oasis
Chapter 3: The Adventures Of Wise Poet
36. Wise Poet Versus The Tyrant Emperor
37. Wise Poet Speaks To The Clan Of The
Wrongdoer
38. Wise Poet Briefly Visits Modern Times
39. Wise Poet Silences Mythical Monsters
40. Wise Poet In The Midst Of Wild Wolves
41. Wise Poet Heals A Flock Of Flightless Birds
42. Wise Poet Gives Bloodhounds A New Purpose
43. Wise Poet’s Lost Scroll
44. Wise Poet Visits the Goddess Of Destiny
45. Wise Poet And Me
Chapter 4: Poetry And Nature
46. A Single Snowflake
47. Autumn Is Back
48. Cheater
49. Nature And Poetry
50. Birdwatcher
51. Confessions Of A Fallen Tree
52. Four Poets One Microphone
53. Miss Hurricane
54. A Tribute To Stray Dogs
55. Pay Homage To Her
Chapter 5: Twelve Months Of Motivation
56. Twelve Months Of Motivation
57. January Motivation
58. February Motivation
59. March Motivation
60. April Motivation
61. May Motivation
62. June Motivation
63. July Motivation
64. August Motivation
65. September Motivation
66. October Motivation
67. November Motivation
68. December Motivation
Chapter 6: Additional Poetry
69. Religion Of Self
70. Just Another Positive Poem
71. Little Sister Versus Cancer
72. The Legend Of A Poor Righteous Poet
73. Ex-Drunkard Shares The Stage With
Microphone Michael
74. Sad Clown
75. A Spiritual Flight
76. Lyrical Lesson
77. King Of Humble Poetry
78. Knock Knock Knock
79. Poetry Contest
80. Healing Poetry 101
Within The Pages Of My Poetry
Chapter 1: Within The Pages Of Michael Kamau’s Poetry
1. Within The Pages Of My Poetry
Within the pages of my poetry I can be a righteous king, a fierce warrior or even a silly JESTER. I have the ability to heal the sick, imprison a serial killer or punish a child MOLESTER. A humble poet can even paint a picture of a beautiful peacock, carefully
illustrating each colorful FEATHER. Within the pages of my poetry I can fall in and out of love without ever getting HURT. I have the ability to REVERSE any maliciously diabolical CURSE.
I’m a superhero sworn to protect the people of planet EARTH.
Within the pages of my poetry I can look at the image in the mirror and SEE the road which lead toward my individual DESTINY. My delusions of
grandeur have been recognized and re-identified through spoken word DELIVERY. It’s a little more than just feeling FREE. I’m ACTUALLY able to
protect the value of my SANITY by tossing my poems into the air and showering myself LYRICALLY.
Within the pages of my poetry a smiling face indicates SUNSHINE. These are the unassuming words from a humble poet’s sober MIND. Alone is how I spend the majority of my TIME. When I walk through the woods and listen to cardinals, blue jays and sparrows sing, I truly believe that they’re spreading the magical melody of my RHYME.
My words, adjectives, pronouns and verbs are powerful enough to transform me into a bird which can FLY so very HIGH. Now I’m surveying the entire mountain region with an eagle EYE. The joy in which I receive sometimes causes me to CRY.
Within the pages of my poetry I know that I’m ALIVE.
2. Note To Self
Note to self: Control lustful imagery. Never let it wander out of the privacy of your BEDROOM. These fantasies should only be acknowledged at
night underneath the dim light of a half MOON.
As long as you stay in control, you never have to worry about the punishing wrath of karmic DOOM.
Note to self: Unfortunately, your deepest secrets can no longer be shared with OTHERS. Not even your closest friend or big BROTHER. As long as they
remain in human form, they have the potential to share your precious secret with ANOTHER.
Note to self: When you reach the crossroads of life, close your eyes and listen to the rhythmic beat of your HEART. This is the crucial time when you must develop something called mental martial
ARTS. Otherwise, you will have a difficult time separating light from DARK.
Don’t worry about riches or WEALTH. In these days and times the greatest treasures are sanity and HEALTH. If you ever awaken from an unpleasant dream and sadness is what you FELT, give thanks to Almighty God and recite that poem you once wrote entitled; Note To SELF.
3. I Feel Like Writing A Poem
I feel like writing a poem. All I need is a TOPIC. Once I start, metaphoric rhythms will begin to flow, it’s going to be hard to STOP IT. My literary spaceship is fuelled by a cerebral ROCKET. A humble poet is only motivated by creative karma, rather than greed or PROFIT.
This particular poem is UNIQUE because I’m ready to reveal a secret I no longer wish to KEEP;
I give thanks not just before and after I SLEEP,
I also extend a prayer for poor people and hungry children before and after I EAT.
Yes, I’m in a poetry writing MOOD. Virtuous and
enlightening may describe the ideas I CHOOSE.
It’s difficult for me to USE terminology which is described as mean-spirited and RUDE. The poor
and the hungry I mentioned in an earlier verse,
I pray that a hero will arise to give them shelter and FOOD.
Positive Poetry is pleasing to the mind, much like the scent of a ROSE is to the NOSE. My rhyming verse will assist true believers in managing their psychological highs and emotional LOWS.
This type of poetry only FLOW in the direction where positive winds BLOW. When I write, the
process is SLOW. When I recite, I feel the need to speed up the rhythmic TEMPO.
Every rhyming scheme must systematically FIT. I now understand the feeling when an award winning songwriter create an instant HIT. I felt like writing a poem, so I sat back, focused on the task at hand and this is IT.
4. I’m Too Honest For This Society
Being open and honest is usually considered a virtuous THING. You’d be surprised at the level of heartache honesty could BRING. It’s hard to not be honest. It’s as natural to me as when dawn arrive and birds begin to SING. When detectives brought me in for QUESTIONING they turned off their lie detector MACHINE. Not to save electricity, but to save time, because my absolute aura is that of sober and CLEAN.
The most unfortunate part about being honest is when someone you trust accuses you of telling a LIE. Makes me feel sad and misunderstood. Makes me want to CRY. After hours of shouting at no one in particular, I stopped asking WHY. That’s when I REALIZED; I’m too honest for this society, so I closed the door and said GOODBYE…
I entered the realm of my comfort ZONE where I spend 99 percent of my time ALONE. When I’m asleep, I turn off my CELLPHONE. Even when my
lights are on, nobody’s HOME. When I practice poetry recital while walking through the woods, I do so with a metaphysical MICROPHONE.
It’s just ME, Mother Earth and my POETRY. Feels as if I’ve been imprisoned by my HONESTY. I’ll be back as soon as I tighten the screws to my SENSITIVITY. As of now, I’m just too honest for this SOCIETY.
5. Microphone Michael
Microphone Michael is just a humble poet who’d rather not recite in front of a CROWD. He walks along the polluted shores of The Fort Detroit River
underneath a starry night without CLOUDS. Practicing his poetry in seclusion ALLOWS Microphone Michael to express himself passionately while speaking out LOUD.
Continuing to perfect his craft is what Microphone Michael is all ABOUT. Being alone allows him to freely cry, laugh or SHOUT. He’s very disappointed in the world which surrounds him. The metaphysical stage provide a venue to let it all OUT.
Being shy and unassuming does not stop Micro-phone Michael from utilizing the gift of spoken WORD. Speaking into the wind is one way to ensure that his poetry is internationally HEARD.
Meanwhile, dawn is near, this is a time specifically designed for a busy squirrel or a hungry BIRD.
A metaphysical MICROPHONE only exist for a spoken word artist who prefer to be ALONE.
The king of seclusion is beginning to understand that he may have to abandon his lonely THRONE.
Maybe it would be COOL to walk into a coffee bar and verbally USE his lyrical TOOL to prevent the spirit of negativity from transforming true believers into a nation of FOOLS.
A man in control of his desires is a man without RAGE. On that fateful evening he walked across the bridge into the city like a poised panther properly
prepared prior to being UNCAGED. For this world to become a better place, together we must turn the
PAGE. Microphone Michael has stepped out of his shy shell and on to the spoken word STAGE.
6. A New Sheriff In Town
There’s a new sheriff in town. Chaos and DISORDER will have to make a run for the BORDER. Soldiers of negativity will hear my rhyme and then check their vital signs, because their lifespan has suddenly gotten SHORTER.
Turn on the lights, watch roaches run for COVER. This is the episode when your significant OTHER has just DISCOVERED that you were sneaking around with ANOTHER LOVER.
Wrongdoers have been caught in the ACT. You had two lucky 7’s and the dealer dealt you a one-eyed JACK. The FAT RAT is about to be eaten by a bigger CAT. Guys with big mouths talk SMACK behind the true believer’s BACK. Face to face they become as quiet as a church mouse on CRACK.
You can’t hide sinful scent from virtuous HOUNDS. It’s time to execute an exit strategy, the temple of wrong doing is about to come crumbling DOWN. Yes, even the ones disguising themselves as silly CLOWNS will be spiritually pursued, captured, gagged and BOUND.
Positive Poetry has arisen. Feel the wrath or be forgiven. Children of the sun, who were once lost, will now be FOUND. Crooked path walkers and wrongdoers can either shape up or ship out. There’s a new sheriff in TOWN. Through the pen of a humble poet, the angelic essence of peaceful existence has finally come EARTHBOUND.
7. Spoken Word Wizard
His verbal passion exemplify controlled RAGE. His lyrical mission is to free falsely accused true believers who have been recently captured and CAGED. His divine message has been heard everywhere. The winds of fate is his microphone, planet earth is the STAGE.
Spoken Word Wizard has a story to TELL. He is not the one who grant wishes from out of a wishing WELL. Spoken Word Wizard will teach us how to
climb out of our protective SHELL. And to awaken from out of a hypnotic state of mind at the sound of the BELL.
Spoken Word Wizard is known for utilizing words of RHYME. Sprinkles of truth, peace and optimism can be detected within each virtuous LINE. Sober, is the only way to describe his conscious state of MIND. Spoken Word Wizard refuses to pollute Almighty God’s Temple with cigarettes, beer and WINE.
His verbal mission is to TEACH. Almighty God has blessed the ground UNDERNEATH his FEET. crooked path walkers have yet to see the light, which would indicate that his purpose is INCOMPLETE.
When he’s relaxing, Spoken Word Wizard may appear as a homeless vagrant or a drunken BUM. Some folks may toss him a penny or two when they hear him recite poetry while beating on an ancient African DRUM. A better world is where he is headed, no one knows where he is FROM. One thing is for certain; Spoken Word Wizard will be representing the elements of Mother Earth by speaking rhyming verse for many, many years to COME.
8. My Unique Writing Technique
There is a lyrical orchestra playing in the auditorium of my MIND. My verbal output and cosmic interpretation of RHYME seem to perfectly
INTERTWINE. I want every enlightened LINE to represent a little bit of Almighty God’s DIVINE SUNSHINE.
The literary goal in which I SEEK is to never see my UNIQUE writing TECHNIQUE reach it’s PEAK.
The creative seed in which I’ve planted will indeed grow into a healthy STOCK of literary CROP. Only Almighty God or Mother Earth has the authority to ask me to STOP.
Otherwise, as long as I’m breathing OXYGEN my
inspiration will come from WITHIN. Feeling good on the inside may not always produce a visual GRIN. Almighty God has given me a purpose. I INTEND to keep on producing Positive Poetry until the END.
9. One Day Without Poetry
Today, I’ll take a break from poetry. Today is the day I will not WRITE. And I will not practice the demonstrative way in which I RECITE. Instead, I’ll
walk through the woods during the day and watch some television at NIGHT.
Or, I can listen to birds chirp throughout the AFTERNOON. And at 12am, I can look out of
my window and watch the alley cat hunt underneath the light of a full MOON. Tomorrow, my passion will undoubtedly return like the continuous rain which fall during a Southeast Asian MONSOON.
Ideas will once again come as fast as a cobra’s ATTACK. I usually absorb poetic revelations rather than fight BACK. Today, instead of formulating my rhyming concepts, I’m going to collect my thoughts and RELAX.
Poetry has become a beautiful part of my LIFE. Even on days when I choose not to WRITE, I’m thankful for this creative LIGHT. Within the pages of my poetry, I’m as happy as a little boy laughing with joy while learning how to fly a KITE.
Now that my 24 hour break from poetry is over, I’ll immediately begin writing something NEW. Upon the wings of a high flying hawk my poetry FLEW. There is an old saying and I believe that old saying is TRUE;
“If you love something, let it go. And if it loves you TOO, it will come flying back to YOU.”
10. Angelina’s Successor
The good news; she’s very beautiful from her sparkling eyes to the ten little toes upon her cute, small FEET. Her high level of intelligence can’t be
BEAT. She’s the type of woman any good man would love to MEET. The bad news; at night she
secretly becomes the wicked witch of the EAST. Her ugly heart seems to have been taken from the dying carcass of a ferocious BEAST with venomous TEETH.
These are the twin souls of Angelina. At midnight she uses evil magic to inflict innocent people with a non-curable CURSE. And when morning comes, she’s the only one who can sing a soothing lullaby to REVERSE the evil spell which caused physical HURT.
Angelina was born to be a spiritual SAGE. Somewhere along the way she was no longer
able to control her internal RAGE. For six centuries
Angelina has been walking with Mother Earth stuck on 22 years of AGE. Time has finally come for this half witch, half healer to turn the next PAGE.
After a long night of inflicting suffrage and PAIN, Angelina awakened to a morning of violent winds and heavy RAIN. At noon, she finally saw the sign
when a colorful rainbow CAME. The very first time Angelina prayed to Almighty God, the evil part of her was immediately banished from her BRAIN. Only the healer she was born to be REMAINED.
Angelina has successfully located a successor, because tomorrow she will no longer physically EXIST. She chose a middle aged man, a humble poet. He was honored to receive such a GIFT. Angelina was a singer not a poet, yet her parting
lesson was THIS;
“Negativity is at large, utilize your Positive Poetry to defeat IT. Let peace, not anger control the words which come forth from out of your mouth, through your LIPS.”
“When war ensue, common sense and intelligence will always be more powerful than the FIST. And if by chance you stray from the chosen path, The Everlasting Spirit of Mother Nature will always be there to ASSIST.”
After Angelina officially departed, a humble poet
proudly stood UPRIGHT. His mission was crystal clear; WRITE, TYPE and RECITE Positive Poetry while walking along the path of living a virtuous LIFE.
11. I’m Beginning To Realize The Purpose For Which I Was Born
Born twice: From out of my Mother’s body was FIRST. The second time I came forth, it was from out of the womb of the EARTH. As a child, I ran
with the others and played in the DIRT. As a poet and a man, I must give purpose to the day of my BIRTH.
As I continue to walk along life’s mysterious ROAD, I’ve realized that learning from my mistakes is an important part of the process of growing OLD. I must continue to try and perfect my craft as long as I have a mind, body and SOUL. Through the poems I create, I strongly believe that the truth will eventually be TOLD.
I’m beginning to believe that my specific DESTINY is being revealed to ME. While traveling along the path of CREATIVITY, I try to CONSTANTLY raise the level of my very own system of Positive POETRY.
My lyrical creations has already protected me from ill winds and psychological STORMS. I thank
God Almighty for creative angels which surround me to ensure that I maintain a particularly positive poetic FORM. Meanwhile, I laugh during joyous occasions and allow tears to flow freely when it’s time to MOURN. Now that poetry is a part of my life, I’m beginning to realize the purpose for which I was BORN.
12. Economic Suicide
If I choose to become a homeless MAN, so many people will think I’ve given up. Realistically, I’d be taking a STAND. Instead of paying high tax penalties, I’d rather walk with Mother Earth and live off the LAND.
Bill collectors won’t be able to raise their interest RATES, because I’ve economically ESCAPED. They will not be able to INFILTRATE my tax-free
secluded SPACE.
During the Summer, I can sleep within the high weeds. I can take showers in the RAIN. Wintertime, I’ll have no choice but to listen to my BRAIN. Like
all the others, I will report to the homeless shelter near The University and ignore snobby college students who think that we’re INSANE. Unlike them, I’d rather learn the rules of the GAME, than to become emotionally TRAINED while being psychologically TAMED.
I never have to worry about defending myself, my mind is always sober and CLEAN. As long as my body and soul are members of the same TEAM, living life as a vagrant may not be as bad as it may SEEM.
SUDDENLY, I’ve come back to REALITY. I will not commit economic suicide just yet. Instead, I’ll upload this idea into the pages of my POETRY so that others may achieve a precious moment of
psychological LIBERTY.
13. Mistakes
Mistakes have been a part of my life since I’ve been ALIVE. What I have in common with the squirrel, the spider and the bird is that my immediate goal
is to SURVIVE. A clean and sober mind is more inclined to succeed than a weak individual who insist on getting HIGH.
MISTAKES have their PLACE within every member of the human RACE. For wrongdoers to
walk a path which is STRAIGHT, they must MAKE
an effort to REPLACE the emotion of HATE with the strength and courage which accompany FAITH.
Mistakes teach us the direction in which not to GO. We live and we learn while continuously developing that inner GLOW. The ability to master a good life is surely within reach, as long as we’re willing to accept one hundred degree temperatures, thunderstorms and icy SNOW.
The next time a positive citizen MAKE a major MISTAKE, regardless of the consequences, let’s not view their shortcomings as a DISGRACE. The person who is quick to judge is the one who is
trying to win a mythical RACE.
Slow down, there’s nothing wrong with traveling at a turtle’s PACE. The person who walk with FAITH is the one who learn from their MISTAKES. Once this lesson is understood, the true believer will be
properly prepared to do something GREAT.
14. Dear Mister Terrorist
It’s time to make this world better. Therefore, I wrote this rhyme in the form of a letter; Dear Mister TERRORIST. I’m just a humble poet. I don’t fight with guns or bombs, not even with my FISTS. I write, type and recite Positive Poetry to put an end to all of THIS.
The families of victims don’t understand your MISSION. Every time you strike, it worsens all of our CONDITION. It would behoove you to share this letter with your comrades. A crooked path
walker’s mind can be opened if he is willing to LISTEN.
You teach children to detonate explosives. You TRAIN your GANG to hijack an AIRPLANE.
Your desire is to ignite fire. A humble poet has come to make it RAIN. I’ve come to exterminate your actions even before they enter into the pleasure principle place in your BRAIN.
The forces of good and evil are officially at WAR. The only reason I choose to enter your yard and knock on your DOOR is to make the day after tomorrow more peaceful than the day BEFORE.