HIM

Im him
The slave who broke into mastas tea room while he was out selling my mother in town
So to hell with creepin in the back
Run round
Murder that pretty little picture window in the front of the house
Plant the seeds of broken glass to breed disaster
and hope turmoil grows like weeds
On a path off destruction and nothing else
Until i felt the eyes of another
A house servant onlooking my work from a safe distance as usual
Ready to bury the hatchet
Deep in my least favorite uncles skull
Im pulled from my rage i hear horses at the front
The man who iwas so quick to kill now takes me to a Small room nearby to hide
Hatchet clutched tight
But There was no wAy to prepare for what was inside
In the corner stood
A box
wood wide and high
With teeth resembling an elephant tusk.
I touch
Than press down on its off white teeth
And amplified is a sound that has come to be a corner stone in my life
A grown mans scream
Backing away from this demon
And as i search for the orgins of the noise
I come to realize
The crimson blood of my brother
Flowing under the the closed door
Stuck in a trance of terror
I am paralyzed
So much so I barley noticed when they kicked the door down
I didnt even reach for my hatchet when the gun went of
My last memory is that of staring up from my pool of blood
At that foreign figure
Made of dark wood and ivory
Wondering to my self
What mysteries it must hold

I am him
the first black man to play a piano
I am the official soundtrack to the united snakes of America
I am the birth of jazz
Father of modern music

Orchestra

Donald trump
trumpin it
owning everything
rhythms
living in his empire

but

a revolution
to the beat of a revolution song
with hands and skins
the drummmmms
taking things over
with cold fists
is it
is it
too cold

ice cold froze by hailing of devilish keys
wail wail
wail away
sledge hammer fingers
light as feathers
push and press
while
the storm settles
while the storm weakens
all while the storm dies

all abandoned
but
but the heart
of
the
bass
the heart beat
continuously pumping
direction
control of chaos
now set afloat

will
live
live
to revive
the clouds
and bring the storm

no dollars too many dreams

With a dollar and a dream.
Holes in pockets
And bright eyes with good intentions
Laid sturdy in their sockets
Left the coop with no expectations
looking for adventure
Looking for a good story to tell
And I'd venture
To say I was alive
But something happened that night
I woke up with a dollar and a dream
Slept on the street with a spent dream and lost currency
There are no Happy endings in reality.

Dance

They dance.
and at first glance
you see them to be together as one.
and together they move. until the beat is decease
and song has been sung
and even after they continue to dance.
and in the average lifetime not many will get the chance to experience what they go through
to have the opportunity to dance.
and im not talking about your everyday tango
this is a tornado on the dance floor
a cyclone of emotions
a fucked up fandango
with movements so hot damn near setting off fire alarms
two beings passionately melting into each others arms
knowing all this
the two dancers throw caution to the wind while leaving their regrets at home continue their dance with faces of stone.
their blank faces allow their intertwined bodies to relay the messages
and all i wish to know is what the connection is.
for some time ive studied these dancers trying to find what it is that makes them continue to move
Is it the love of the dance or more simply, love
or is it possible love is some type of sophisticated dance because we all know it takes two to tango
and although arguable you cant fall in love with yourself
and as i sit tying to think
i look out my window see the two dancers on the street
forever dancing
never missing a stride always on beat
although they may stumble always remaining on four feet.
for that.
i envy those who dance
they live
cry
laugh
rejoice
and die
all while together
all while dancing
all while loving
so to this day
i sit in my room trying to teach myself the steps
all while trying to learn what love is
hoping i get the chance to one day dance

This is

just some shit

my mind

My mind
The stream of thoughts
Dictating my course of action
Runs thick
With drips of kindness
And compassion
Barreling towards a pit
Of uncertain passion
Fueled by the inconsistencies
Of outside influence
The setting blended
Into the present plots
What i see what i hear what i feel what i smell
Is foul
Is damned
My mind
Barreling towards a pit
Of uncertainty
Driven by my surroundings.

eye

they is infinitely
implicating ideas
of intricate inventiveness
but ignore your ignorance for a moment
and understand that this intimate illustration
of straight ill
integrates imitation more than anything else
ill advised illadelphia halflifes down icy cold
ibuprofen to intake the idea of imbeciles implying
and enforcing the idea of their identities as indited
royalty
if its your insecurity inflaming your intense idiotic ideas
the easy answer is you should cease to exist
the hard answer is i

what i am saying is
hip hop is lifestyle i live every damn day
and ill be damn to see the day
my style of life
has any thing to do with a fm radio

what im trying to say is
the only thing of value
my father left for me
i didnt sell was a run dmc casette
so since 12 ive been raising hell

what im trying to say is
before all the arab mooney busta was a leader
of my new school
plug one was head of the class
and kanye had just dropped out

what im tryin to say is
id sell my car for some headphones
ive got lyrics from biggies sucidal thought
tattooed on the inside of my bones
i eat vinyl and now im coughing poems

what im trying to say is
united hip hop heads aint nuthin
to fuck with
protect ya neck
we bringin the mutha fucking rukas

what im trying to say is fuck you

i am hip hop

i smile

i smile becausse when no one else is looking my shadow starts dancing
i smile because sometimes my left molar tells jokes to my k-9 s
and when i get tirred my feet really do bark like k-9s
each one of the curls on my head has its own personality
its a an all day 247 house party
some of them dance in wind
some stand straight up and recite poems
some lay way down becuse they caught a whiff of some of that smoke from last night
i smile because the things i write on my shoes are what ive heard them whisper in librarys
i smile because the left one named himself larry
i smile because when i unplug my head phones i can still hear music
i smile becuase now im old enough to do all those things i wasnt allowed to do as a child and i would swear one day i would do
like eat lunchables for breakfast
sit directly in front of the tv
and stay out past when the street lights come on.


i smile because when i look in the mirror my reflection is always crying
and my toes are always wondering if im just sitting wierd or if there finally dieng
i smile because well i dont really know why i smile but im going to keep on smiling because
im tired of the alternitive.