As ancient as time
As ancient as the rhyme
there is no verse
That has not passed his terse lips

When poetry was written on
The walls of a cave
In sankrit and cuneiform
In sands washed over by waves

His hand was the writer
His mouth the conveyor
He is CP, the Collective Poet
The ancient, the spoken word creator

Wisen and laden with truth
and diction
He past footsteps are our current lessons
Listen to him....listen