honea byrne

Ain’t my Fault Whiteboyz listening to my slang wanna hang like bats, and now dirty ass rats got got….when shit got hot Naw it ain’t my fault dey addicted to salt and drinking Malt liquor             ”Why did you wait till all this time to come back? And weren’t something’s better off unsaid?” The father asked his estranged son. As he walked back into his life, he stepped through his father's business doors, not wanting any confrontation. He had on the same shoes he had worn when he left over ten years ago. But the soles weren’t worn down. No he took the time to replace the shoes and take care of them. He had on a suit and tie as well.             They walked inside his father’s office.  He paid no mind to the business papers, shelves of books and file cabinets, but rather he scrutinized the pictures of himself as a child before the incident had happened…             The man, for the years had gone by so quickly, was worried, “Maybe I just should have s

(T.V.) tell me vision Got my rhymes from fiends and fixes Caught hard times from a life in the fast lane, mixes with my intellect from seeing lives wrecked. Saw my dreams behind a vague, torn page of a photographed wrath of a psychopath telegraphed photographed telecast.                                                 (MORE NEWS AT 11.)                                     (THIS IS A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT.)…                                     Books for crooks, money for the hungry, funny to fund the                                                             hopeless statistic. Yea, and the president might be a mystic.                                                                                     (Stay tuned for further details.) So sad too bad, here comes the stalker, the million dollar talker.                                     (“THE END IS SOON WE ARE ALL DOOMED,”)                                                                             

1968’s ending:             A soldier returns home from his six month tour of Vietnam . His wife is anxious for him to see their new born son in his crib. Much to her dismay, the evil that possessed him in the war came out.             Looking into his new born son’s eyes he saw an image of God he had left behind from seeing countless deaths.             …and this demon, whose name sounds like shhh, traveled from the father to his son.             “NO I CAN’T LET THIS HAPPEN!” then the father tried to kill his son. Fortunately the Military Police stopped him. …and the soldier spent the rest of his life in an asylum.  1998 “YOU’RE CAST DOWN!” Spencer annunciated Chris’ guitar rhythm with strokes on his Jackson electric guitar. It gave the booms (the footsteps of this demon are the sounds of WAR: explosions: guns, bombs, and landmines).                         and I gave the demon the ground to walk on by the way I played my piano. Sounded like someone getting dragg

C.P. infected     As of Freedom Oh yes.             Sweet wheat bread             meet feet to the concrete             dreadful deeds put checks on the list              put X’s on the bullets going out to find loss              property o’ mine             PRIDE Projected the Redness seen when the eyes are closed to the outside world  physically felt Dark Red, Smokey smell Oh, two fell  into a mud puddle PLOP PLOP A reflection and there it was  a split second broken an imperfection in innocence He remembered …. being hit real hard by a fist one afternoon during a fight  his head ached.  How much more could he take? An that sound, “Smack!” Which made it worse the numbness the dumbness of the crowd to do nothing but watch Step outside the World see all there is to see oh you can be oh you can be  free only as much as you want to be. Oh so snug Is that old rug With a tight hug  on the tile

Eating dinner with Jesus http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KJ7M15G                              “Listen man, I got to go, but I want to tell you a story I heard one time:                                            Jesus came back to Earth and there was a wealthy woman inviting him to dinner at her house. The day came for Jesus to come and the lady was interrupted by every one knocking on her door while she was getting her meal ready. Everyone, but Jesus. First, was the man dressed in rags asking for a drink of water. She told him to go away because Jesus was coming. The second was a man asking for a bit of change; her response, ‘Go away, Jesus is coming and I have to get ready for him.’ Then the third came needing bread to eat. Once again, she scorned, ‘Go away, I’m waiting for Jesus and he is more important than you.’ Jesus never came to her house. The next day when the lady saw Jesus she asked him, ‘Why didn’t you come by and eat dinner with me?’ Jesus replied, ‘I came by three time

He grips the cross and tells me, “The top is the father, father like of your house, right side is the son, left side is the Holy Ghost.”                                                And I attempt to explain God to me as being of pure energy, and the devil as the void. Then I explain my theory I believe about the righteous being closest to the sun and as people moved away from the sun they became wicked. A train passes loudly, silencing us for about two minutes.                             Then I was ready to depart. Yet, I felt compelled to tell a story I heard one time.                                   “Listen man, I got to go, but I want to tell you a story I heard one time:                                            Jesus came back to Earth and there was a wealthy woman inviting him to dinner at her house. The day came for Jesus to come and the lady was interrupted by every one knocking on her door while she was getting her meal ready. Everyone, but Jesus. First, was the man