What is the point to all this
Hardliner hurls the question out there
Knowing inwardly there is no quick fix to her mental mess
What she knows for sure is that life is messy
Things planned and expected
Always have a habit of running buck wild on her
Never mind that she’s been raising them from infancy
To become treasured and calculated outcomes
Something always gats to happen to jack-up their flow
“You are trying too hard baby girl
Right now anxiety and fear have
High jacked your feng shui
This is the energy creating all the havoc
And ill-boding on Planet Hardliner
When we ask what is it that you are striving for
It is not to perplex you or to go Budda-Seer on you
But to allow you to claim your own victory
You want things the way you want it
To arrive in the time you want it
And to unfold in the manner you envisioned”
And that is bad
Hey humour is good in times of stress
“Oh you call it humour – really?
And do you feel any better for it
But before the sass flies outta your mouth
Suck in your reality
Allow yourself to be abused by Oya’s wind
Deal real with your situation baby-girl
And come up with the deep down gritty – dirty on yourself
Open it up for you to see without self-censure – judgment
Allow yourself to feel raw – scared and insignificant
And give all your dirt – grit and grime to the Great I Am
Without the intention of holding on to it
Only then – are you worthy for sass
To glide like an eagle outta your mouth”
Hardliner sucks in a deep breath
The last time she did that – as ordered by her Irates
Her ass landed in the Matrix of Spiritual Retardation
Now she about to suck another little red pill
Lawd knows where they about to take her ass now
Dang – she is truly a masochist
“Or maybe you are truly the Queen of Bad-ass
Cause only warriors do that shit
Valhalla aint for jokers boo
Remember that to gain yourself
You must be willing to lose everything”
That there is the kinda balls Hardliner don’t have
“Before you figure you don’t have it
Why don’t you investigate for yourself”
Yeh – Hardliner has always been a good storyteller
She done made up so many stories about herself
That right now her story has become so convoluted
She thought she buried her phantom self
Twelve feet deep – six feet more than she had too
Just for good measure
And now she feelin like this was a hollow death
When will this shit ever end
When you think you gats things figured
They come back to you like a coal coloured chile
Born to alabaster skinned parents –
A holla back of an enslaved ancestry
Oh Lawd Jesus!!
“You see him” they counter
That dry humour rubbing against a sensitive nerve
Maybe you could have told me that
My earth was not ready for planting anything
Especially no healing herbs
Oya aint finshed whooping my ass yet
“Let’s get one thing straight boo
Oya gon whoop your ass till the day you die
Cause life – if lived with purpose
Is constantly in a state of evolution
The Goddess of Change is your patron saint
She will till your earthly soil until
You light up that chalice with King Bob Marley
And there will be times when you will
Have to weed all your herbs in order to plant anew
Cause Oya is merciless like that
Your soil is in the exact shape it is meant to be in
Now pray tell – what is a solid death
And why was your victory hollow”
Hardliner pauses
She never looked at it that way
“Cause everything with you is about drama
Did you want the death to die hard
Does dying hard add more weight
And importance to your struggle
What about your victory is hollow
Do you want to forever ride that one victory pony
Being hailed as a onetime wonder
Through the fabled walls of Valhalla
Gurl Oya picks only the cream of the crop
She don’t go for rookies
And her wind carried your ass all the way to Valhalla
A little dark skinned pickney girl – to romp around with
With Europe’s Golden haired Gods
And here you are moaning about some hollow victory”
Ouch – Hardliner massages her temple
Yall gon fling a shoe at me
And a knock off Louboutin to boot
That is just rachet
Dayum near took my eye out
“Oh Boo-whoo
You are better than the whiner
You are fronting right now Hardliner
This is old school whoop ass
From the electrical cord to the flying shoe
And from the state of your wallet
You can barely afford knock offs
Until you inject discipline and obedience
Into your spiritual daily practice
You will not be able to hang tight with Thor and his posse
Mind your dayum business instead of
Harping on about Oya and her transforming wind
Trust the process Boo
You gon hear this phrase time and time again
Until it sinks into your hard head”
Her Irates are pulling a Madea on her Planet right now
That is some real shit
Hardliner casts her eyes heavenward
Gwad knows how many more flying shoes
Gon jack up her face while trusting the process
Yeh – we have quite a collection –
Custom made for you”
Gawd dayumed knock awfs
“We starting with what you are worth right now Boo
No more no less”
Budda-seer betta come real quick
Cause she is tired of this shit