3 in the morning… writing.

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      Sometimes, I feel like I’m too real as I navigate amongst my human family.
At times, I am vulnerable and sad and tempted to don armor or return to reclusive.
Orher times I am filled with the joy of life and strive to contain it for fear of repeating past heartbreaks and slights.
I cannot afford another wreckage. I have a child to raise. 

     I recognize in this moment that the remedy is grace. It isn’t necessarily being “the bigger person”. That requires some sort of comparison, which, in my opinion, is to one’s detriment. The remedy is in being one’s highest self. It is dusting off the detritus of deathly paradigms that never suited you and never will. It is a coming of age to a mental, emotional and spiritual maturity not heretofore seen. It is in being even more real than you think you are.

     I have so much work to do. So much to give… So much to share… “To whom much is given…”  Much is required of me, chief amongst which is courage.

“I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.”
– Frank Herbert

And so it is.
Àṣẹ Om ∞

Errol Percival Jr.

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God’s loss…
Lost gods
Host odds… nill
Guest’s guesswork wears down erasers.
They swear by erasure, ever sure,
assured  by what appears apparent
dominance…
until those held in mental check
overturn the boards
and break the clocks (records)
enough to reveal the rest of reality
swept under rugs
pray for the bear we poke
…holes in.

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So many programs pushed…
A cacaphony of character flaws on display
like gaudy paintings in a gallery
with walls for rent regardless of merit…
Fine tooth comb through the haystack…
No needle is worth this wastage.
Truth rips what they sew.
Even Eden’s soil would reject
their deposited seeds
like incompatible transplanted organs.
Argue the historicity of allegory
’til you’re blue in the face.
It avails one naught.
The lost are leading the lost.
Both feign blindness for comfort,
getting points across a bridge
that was to be burned ages ago.
Who has a stake
in your stagnation and fragmentation?
Who has you feasting on the fat but never getting to the meat of the matter?
Who has you treading their beaten path
next to be battered… to bits?
Two bit, cockamamie, “fugazey”…
Impish ilk… stumps in stilts…
rumpled silks…will that wilts
with watering… and light of day.
May eggs rest in nest and not baskets.
Rescind the right of cowards to make innocence their bastard child.
Count all “conquests”… matings/weddings.
DNA contests… Lineage is lineage.
Farces for the farce of property
and forced false propriety…
Our minds hence our worlds a shambles…
Peer past pretentious pious’
pathological “piety”….
Analyze the angles.
Shift!

Asé.

~ Daiikiru Maximillion™
©2022 Errol Percival Jr.







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Weight of worlds,
Devilish contractuals…
Hateful words;
Vitriolic, unfactual…

I know a place was set for me at a table.
But the benefactor’s handshake
and eye contact were unstable.
So I know that food would not have
sat right in my tummy.
And I refuse to stand there and smile like a dummy
knowing good and goddamned well
that they don’t want nothing good for me.
You won’t find me where I’m only tolerated.
After what I’ve been through
I deserve to be celebrated.
If solitude is the only space for that
I’m good with that.
I was an only child. I was home alone often.
And although I didn’t know it at the time
I was cuter than Macaulay Culkin.
Colorism did a number when I was younger.
There was a veil over my eyes
when I looked in the mirror.
Matters not. We’re here now in strength and clarity.
I notice but am undaunted
by any apparent disparity.
What’s mine… what’s for me…
I’m gon’ get that.
Presented major obstacles
are really minor setbacks.
I’m determined… hard headed… stubborn.
Victory is imminent. You can bet that.
Asé.

~ Daiikiru Maximillion™
©Errol Percival Jr. 2022



Today

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Today I come before you to put you first.
This is not about me.
I’m fine… no lie…
regardless of difficulties and struggles
I’m really handsome under this beard.
I hope you laughed.
I will good cheer your way.
May it channel into enthusiasm.
May no task be a chore.
May your heart sing along to its every beat.
May your vibrant eyes and smile open doors.
May you stand in your truth…
fearless and respected.
May all who will you ill
learn the error of their ways… forthwith.
May we all be more forthright
so as not to waste so much of our time
in confusion.
May your path be more clear for you.
May you know yourself and love when you feel it.
May your moments of doubt be few and far between
and unfounded.
Look… Thrive.
You are deserving of all the blessings
that the divine can muster.
Know that.
Walk in that knowledge.
Walk in your light.
Asé.

Today

~ Daiikiru Maximillion™
©Errol Percival Jr. 2021

Master Tongue.

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Freudian slips and poisonous lips.
People tell on themselves and think you don’t know shit.
Loosely introduce me.
Don’t tie me to your ship.
Matter of fact no intro necessary.
Direct line to divine no intermediary.
I love you though.
I’ll keep that fresh in heart and thought
so I don’t forget when I regard your walk
as leading away from what sparks the art and it’s elevation i.e. the move to drive from park.
There’s really no need to hawk the ark.
Nature moves in grand procession to what is “destined”.
All is and was destined after the fact.
Once you think or act you cannot take it back.
It is indelibly imprinted… in the Akasha…
Even stones can be cracked up… and may return to dust.
So nothing can compare to what is written in us.
Que te pasa?
DNA Mufasa… Jaffe Joffer…  Shiva’s Jata.
Verses and Katas. Perfection practice…
Prim and proper.
Comparison… addition division… makes some average… Makes some imitators and imposters… Makes some savage…
to excuse savagery of the “civilized”.
Drapetomania vaccine… spirituality sincretized… Catholicism… 
Wool over eyes…
Wool over eyes…
Lamb chops on the shepherds plate…
Fools are the wise.
Fools are the wise.
In due season and time.
Saying it twice doesn’t make it right.
Saying it thrice might make it arrive.
Playing your cards right might make you arise.
Turning over the table might force setting “the game” aright.
Might is subject to consciousness and character.
Sycophants are just as bad as disparagers.
Be true; be free. Be your own masterer.
Asé
Dai-ikiru Akasha Maximillion
(Errol “Moxie” Percival Jr.)

Honorable Men Shun…

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Jay Elect…
Genuflect
Skillshot.
King the best.
Push pass pawns
through promotion
straight to victory.
Nike mate.
Petty cannot get to me.
Divine debate.
Jihad…
Reenacting Jacob wrestling.
We odd… We gods…
Upend the mess you’re nestled in.
Maggots.
Soon to be flies.
Can’t catch a whiff of the best of us.
Much less get it.
What you expect of us
powerful spirits?
We defy all of that
in favor
of righteous
Destiny.

That will be all. Thank you.

Asé.

~ Daiikiru Maximillion™
©Errol Percival Jr. 2021

Daily Practice Dreams

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Drumming in dreams…
Signalling and scenes
Set.
Waking intervenes.
In between its fullness and the dream…
Gunshot sounds and screams…
Dread
before the veil is fully lifted then…
Relief.

Second world problems,
moments impacting all worlds…
Is it out of character to do things
out of character rather than for response
for some characters?
Shakespeare said all the world is a stage.
Who does the playwright speak for?
All pedestals are in valleys of decision now.
We are for the mountaintops
as launching pads to lift off from pinnacle
and listen intently at seashores or seashells
and between words…
Silence spirals forth
allowing hallowing meditations
that make even four walls
infinitely spacious
to expand the potentiality
of the latent loquacious
in preparation for the time
to unleash a rush of statements
with perfected in the pocket placement
yet still exhibiting nature’s pace and patience.

Asé

~ Daiikiru Maximillion™
©Errol Percival Jr. 2021

Morning Night Write

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Hanging on every word…
Executors and gallows…
Unfilled in blanks…
What’s in the banks?
Rivers of revenue…
Lined pockets
The Nile watches.
Pollution tainted waters lament.
Who hears?
Emptied barrels make the host’s noise.
Passenger seats
riddles on repeat.
Bucks stop short of lamb blooded doors.
Really?
Mother’s suns… Little ones…
Righteous slaughter…
Condoned genocides
The Grand Theft is afoot
No suit Sherlock.
Just a hat for two faces.
Blatant hypocrisy is no mystery.
You shall know them by their works.
You shall know them by their hidden thoughts made manifest.
Your tertiary eye was not given in vain.
Vy not for vile vanity.
Be not a slave to sloth.
Be not goaded by gluttony.
Be not moved to murder.
Be not jabbed by jealousy.
I’ll make what I have above enough.
My divine nature denotes surplus.
Any other validation is superfluous.
Do you work for Mammon or do you work for Us?
Don’t answer we already know?
“Is God a man that he should lie?”
Sigh.
Either way, guaranteed green pastures.
Flood of fire and verdant aftermath…
Heart chakra… dusting off the ash.
Asé.
~ Daiikiru Maximillion™
©Errol Percival Jr. 2021