Beggar's Doctrine (Prod. by Routiger Slob)

by Kikwaakew



This was written inspired by the beat that Routiger Slob made, and is meant to be a prediction of sorts of my future reincarnation in India... as I listened to the beat the words came to me and this odyssey was born...


I wander the streets of Pondicherry,
Give alms for buried orphans in Vietnam
& receive them the next morning,
I live by the beggar's doctrine,
Offer all that I can forgetting logic,
For it is all that I am, I stand mournfully,
A quartz grain in a sandstorm,
That became rose quartz,
With a polished face
In the shape of the noble heart
Of an artist faceless, odd yet sapient,
Routiger Slob made this,
Future oddyssey as Cable for Charles Xavier,
We walk & stray from Arctic bays to antarctic bases,
hop on rockets and take off to space,
Then cross the plains of Martian scapes
with meteoric craters,
I watch all this displayed in my optics' gaze
as I wander & pray with a mala
in a maze of markets,
talk with Brahmins & Vaishyas,
tell them of my father Brahma
& my brother Siva the Kshyatria warrior raja,
they proffer me pujas which I awkwardly refuse,
for it is auspicious to do this,
I fast & awe & beauty gawk at my madness
as I cross the map & walk to the ghats of Varanasi
to start my vast oddyssey as a masterless Aghori,
but sadly it is not my path,
I was born to be a Naga Sadhu
that evolved into a Riishii
with Rudraksha beads
softly beating against my chest chakra
as I cough from the sess in my chillum
offered to me by my kindred,
a reincarnated Ahimsa Ninja,
& blessed by the children I mentored
before this existence,
though I cannot remember all of this in the present,
I often get glimpses & ponder what this is,
I am always an oddity misfit,
Ive often robbed the rich like Pariahs and Dalits,
they are all messiahs achyut,
none can touch them like a nuns substance,
they are sannyasins of sunya,
Roma regents roaming the coldest precincts,
noble as aether, primordial element of existence,
those are my people, & Hell is not their allegiance,
still I know when I see them
& flow tales of Freedom
that they are no frail beings,
they are the Holy Grail of Jesus,
Yeshua Ben Miriam's regaled teachers,
I chant OM for Nila & see old pale & speechless rajas
meekly watching, till their own Hell has freed them,
Apocalypse is always caught up around the corner,
not for today, there is nada it is always delayed,
its just another day in Benares,
praying with a Beggar's doctrine,
saved in the Nick of Time
by a comrade meant to be forgotten,
there's a lot of plotting devotees of Dark Ones,
maybe as a Hopi ill be a Heartful Sun
like the one etched in my neck,
apart from the slums I get my respect
from the art ive become when I script it,
20th style lettered calligraphy
born from the 25th image,
Ive already been a lesbian concubine
in China in the Ming Dynasty,
a Khan warrior in Gengis's army
with Kalkin Kings beside me,
a Rastafarian Ganja Farmer
they called Bati Man
because he truly offered solace to humankind,
& many more in endless lore,
but so have you in Time,
I am but the friendless story of an unruly mind...
yet sanatana dharma imbues its rhymes with duty divine...
eventually you will duly find this...
this is no dubious science,
I do not know all that the future hides
but as I author this I view in my mind
what ive fathered as destined,
I am always professing...

I am always professing.


released February 26, 2016
Prod. by Routiger Slob



all rights reserved


Kikwaakew British Columbia

A spoken word artist for over 20 years, Kikwaakew aka Anton Iorga (once known as Kalki) is now an anticolonial activist & teacher, as well as a founder of the worldwide alternative education & art safespace Mutant Akademy... find out more & find lots of free music at ... more

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