heronJones

heronJones is an author, journalist and spoken word poet. He is the epitome of passion and poetry; he drinks the rays of the sun to conceive and deliver esoteric knowledge and spiritual science. His goal is to edu-tain audiences into a state of complete bliss emphasizing expression above words. His poetry is described as a gut-wrenching reminder of the everyday addictions, which we constantly deny. He attempts to analyse life beyond the physical and spiritual norms to find the scientific parallels between our art forms, belief systems, and history.

Poetry

The Scribe

Exercise your options; the choice is yours
It's my life my decision: how is that possible?
When it was already written
Your existence preconceived, thoughts previously formulated
By who?
The Great Scribe
He designs the plan while we in futility decide
We are not but ink; fluid lives we wish to moderate
Flowing ourselves, but our world is the Master's pen
The script created depends upon his action
So what use is life?
What use is life if you've no control?
We struggle for a preference already given
And then his purpose we serve pious and devout
May it be revealed, what happens when...
The writer's ink runs out...

Life Eternal

When I pass on, don't shower me with flowers
Just raise your fist and yell power
Be brave, I don't associate with cowards
No tears, keep memories sweet never sour
Those with Knowledge-of-Self please pour a libation
My hooligan friends, down a few rounds for the occasion
Spiritual people please pray for my re-creation
I'm an eternal seed that needs soul fertilization

The coming forth by day and by night
I'm not dead, just learning the secrets that escaped us during life
Listen tight, I'll still spit this poetry to your mental mic
To remind you what it means to live your best life
Breddrin in the struggle, use meditation to keep concentration
Those seeking for revenge please be patient
This ain't a kung fu flick where vengeance is easily taken
Our enemy's a master killer, our strike needs precise calculation

Now walk your sons and daughters down the path that we've taken
Tell them to avoid fake men, snake men, forked tongued religious men who pretend
To be Christian. Using the bible to make masses buy-bullshit like politicians
Wishing, to fulfill lust filled missions, traditions of keeping us locked, spirituality prisons
Teach the youth that their future is a present
To live life with purpose don't wait for lucky 7's
Tell them that they ain't gotta die to go to heaven
But practice truth and love to earn their afterlife entrance

So in a Bboy stance I'll wait at the Hall of Justice
The scale set to measure the weight of my soul's oneness
Now free from the forces which forced my life out of focus
Again born my will balanced on triple beams like a gymnast
And I experienced heaven long before this flesh ever expired
Visited voids darker than coal, blacker than asphalt and tires
Self-control leads to inner peace, prayer & contemplation lead thoughts through the wire
In line with the divine mind, live your paradise let your life stay inspired

Don't be like those who are indifferent, shrug their shoulders and say oh well
They don't believe in heaven 'cause they're living in hell
That frame of mind is bottomless, can't draw water from that well
Like the Dawn of the Dead, live bodies limited to the vain desires of the self
But like infinite mathematics my soul is eternity
Resurrected through wombs like stars through galaxies
And most y'all don't need a casket 'cause the life you live is six feet deep
Blindly fearing hell, selfishly chasing heaven while life eternal remains your mystery