Even sand can be frozen in time


Why does the hierarchy matter so? Calico adage flows

down from prose addled with salvaged bones and an amber glow

Egyptologist went to school off a Cambridge loan, studying by a lamp at home

What asphyxiated mantra lies beneath the sandy knoll of the Sphinx

which can’t be known through a glyph, since in summertime I fled

Is it justified to call me a necrophiliac if I elect to mummify the dead?

we’re all riding in Shambala express, and through the drums, Allah connects

Take the sum of rhymes I said it’ll compose a jambalaya spread

A chunk of Guyana bread, playing mancala out of a Kabbalah chest

Antiquity’s not a game, it’s why we gamble with Mayan heads in Malta chess

My seventh chakra’s blessed, even though I’m not sure it exists

either my heartbeat’s rapidly increasing or my inner core’s a burning abyss

higher hydration, swollen cups, falls from the tree of life, it’s so corrupt

King Arthur quested for the holy grail without consideration that it was a coconut

I’d bet the historians never saw it coming, not even Canaanite interns

Everything you fail at in life is preparing you for the afterlife’s midterm

Combatants write under bedazzlin’ phantom light, it’s sabbath night at Ben-Hur’s

The message has been heard, when Petra pamphlets merged

& dead semantic slurs became decrepit then resurrected, caressing Atlantis herds

Outlandish words from inside the chambers of Ishtar, where King Seti played

we’re all created to lend songs to virgin ears, domesticate your mental state

Religion’s placed under fission blade;

The face of my kin spawns into a gritty gray…alert the gypsy race

Is it my fault they’re trying to turn the nation of Islam into a city-state?

It’s Megiddo Day as Christians gauge their clips, grenades & Christmas trays

Egyptian systems aren’t simple, with so many symbols eclipsed in gypsum jade

Soul collectors depicted trading rosary beads for first-born Jewish infant’s braids

no door to the desert, no food for miles, how does the spigot taste?

How do the rich and famous hog all the regal relics and call them upheavals?

Divine objects don’t belong in museums – they belong to the people

considering “divine” means “of ancient significance” in times of the saga

twelve tribes, fuel efficient, carpoolin’ in Osiris’ Mazda

please approach the endless coast with caution – there lies a silent armada

It’s been over a fortnight in Malagra. Or midnight for marauders –

Hamonaptra’s hardly been mopped right, seems like a tourism issue

I’ve seen it… the spear of destiny is lodged inside the corpse of a Hindu

court dismissals, library of Alexan-sangrea, catch us slinging the Buddha

blowing rings from a hookah right outside the Kingdom of Judah

What if the pyramids were hiveminds used for linking stringent computers?

What do you honestly think you would do, huh?

Late fees for the book of revelations seem to be piling up, it’s tough business

I took a tugboat up the adjunct Isthmus with Thutmose’s young mistress

we passed by Moses on the Niles… what I loved most were the drugged kisses

It seems my cousins worked me, with more funds to aid this subtle journey

tried several interpretations of the Nubian language which I mumbled tersely

they all still translated to “Fuck you, Pay me, Infidel Scholar Who Wasn’t Worthy”