Vibe

I am trapped in this quest to express myself, speaking to earless narcissists, requesting answers from mouthless fools, dying to be seen by eyeless eclectics. Where do I genuinely exist? This makes perfect sense to me, and if not to you, I am sorry, but you are not who I am longing for.

intrinsically art

Being an artist is hard. From my perspective, I feel that a minute pool of artists ever achieve the level of exposure they seek. Most of us earn degrees and take jobs that guide us off the creative path, while forced to share our gifts with only ourselves, or our loved ones, because either we don't have the confidence that we've perfected our craft for the world to see or because we just don't see the point - no one will ever know us.

Stop your ninnying. If you want to be an artist, be one. Create for yourself, and if no one ever sees it, you did. You accomplished it. So write, rap, draw, paint, sculpt, speak, cook, bake....do it to EXpress, not IMpress.

Beasts

I'm not a fan of cruelty, disrespect or any other form of demeaning individuals. To be perfectly honest, I abhor people who seek out to use or manipulate with the sole intent of furthering his own agenda. We all get used sometimes, it's part of the game, but be careful about your goal purpose. This is my response to what I felt was a negligent proposal for my purpose.

Not for all the digits in the world
Will I do that jig, will I dance that twirl
My beastly pride does indeed not heed
to cease dysfunction and prevent mislead
-nigga please-
I sensed a feeling, then sniffed that breeze
So, here go yo' office, here go yo' keys
Here goes the veins and arteries
Here come nonexistent begs and pleas
I won't trip, but know pride can morph to disease

So we sit in our worlds and refuse to admit
that our beasts so strong, could have joined, could have fit
could have rocked, could have rolled, could have soared this shit
But the pride your beast chose, the group beast picked?
The den they in, don't you smell that stench??
Yo' beast smell loyalty,
My beast smell bitch.

I send mine gone and expect the same
Look up, and I'm circled by the pride, by the gang
Shoulda known, shoulda seen that ain't nothin change

But me....

Back to the wall, my beast begs to come back
Try to waive beast off, tell her don't attack
Don't make that sound! Don't make bones crack!

But my beastly pride does indeed not heed
to cease dysfunction and prevent mislead.
To ensure I'm sane, to prevent my fail
to ensure my triumph, pay any bail
So I fed my beast, I stuffed her well.

You Can Never Be Certain

Funny how sudden things can change

One moment basking in the sun

In a flash seeking shelter from the rain

Battered and bruised by life’s mental canes

So often my heart tries to console

My torn and weary soul

But ain’t that my brain’s role?

To process, reform and produce a package with bow?

And if not what part of me is responsible for making me whole?

Filling that gap and paying that toll?

Or is that depending on the circumstance

Self cannot heal

And from time to time we must rely

On the kindness of strangers

Handing over our future existence

To unwitting participants

And depending on our karma

We sink or swim in it

Now ain’t that some shit?

If indeed this is true

I suggest a watchful mind on how you treat me

Likewise on how I you

Rethinking what we will or won’t do

Resizing the fit of someone else’s shoe

Be prepared to walk in it

Cause there’s no telling when you’ll need to

Guaranteed before it’s all said and done

Enemies, rivals and opposites will critically intersect

Even just momentarily forced to connect

Like some twisted 3 legged race

Where your success to the finish your life predicates

Outcome that you play well with others

Or your life gets erased.

Let us be very clear about our intent. Let us not be influenced by the will of others when we know at our core it is not right. The world relies on us to become a pack of followers, partaking in egregious assaults on the human rights and liberties, not just willingly but excitedly participating in the demise of others, and not feeling when we do it.  To make it become such a natural way of existence that deceit, withholding, conniving and hate become as natural as walking, breathing or defecating.  Lured by worldly rewards, that when unwrapped and untied, are nothing more than demises, trapped in a box with crank attached. This, the physical mechanism that winds with every immoral, unethical and demeaning act we display, until, reaching life's limit, karma bursts out, rushing at us fervently to collect on our transgressions.

Do not be the pawn of a self proclaimed King or Queen; become the King or Queen to utilize your influence for the betterment of the human condition.

The Heart's Tell

I see a little bit of the truth each day,

I'll speak this tomorrow, yet you heard that today,

Which absolutely don't mean you can't believe what I say,

This just means that concerning my youth, 

progressively maturity outweighs.

I spend so many hours and so many days,

Refining my life for future out-pays,

Not material or worldly or fruitless displays,

The type where love and karma and beauty do play.

Yes, I see a little bit of the truth each day,

I'll speak this tomorrow, yet you heard that today

Which often, unfortunately my heart's core enclaves

For enlightenment prerequisites that I speculate

How do I adapt, do I acclimate?

Where do I seek the peace, or find what equates?

In me, in you, in love's arms we lay

Then the layers, the layers of heart's scars away.