Saturday, February 28, 2009

:(

Never meant to disrespect
My inability to digest the fatal events, rendered me unable to attend to pay my respect
Unable to comprehend the incomprehensible, or understand His reasons that are beyond all understanding.
Instead I stomach guilt and wonder why
Eyes tried to escape tears, mind tried to accept lies
I'd never run into this type of pain, so i figured i'd skip out
Its scared me that in this world.. there's nothing light with death
No gates, and even the most beautiful pearls can't lighten up a mother's heart, or lesson the heart ache

My mind pays for this each day, as often time it trails
Making a B-line towards the past, reminiscing
Almost allowing me to think that from my life you aren't missing
Missed the day in black with the preacher
For fear my heart would be awakened by the wake
Mind finally conscious of what is at stake
Sorry Double S, i think about you all the time
I was thirteen, not tryin to justify just wasnt ready
So in my mind, i tried to keep u alive
And in my heart u r... in a different world but never too far


iWrite


More Jump Off Joe Promotion

After I took an exam on dead poets, I rushed to the store to cop the album that single handedly could resurrect hip hop. Def poetry on wax, is what I was in search of.
No hyperbole needed to explain that on Padded Room, Budden's creativity manifest itself on an array of introspective tracks that most artists these days simply can't even conceptualize. I mean, the album is called Padded Room, how separated from mainstream can you get?
In retrospect, I should've expected Best Buy to not have the album, and saved myself the crowded and uncomfortable bus ride. I've heard him in interviews talking about Amalgam Digital, and how he wants his fans to buy his music digitally. I'll pass, and digitally rip it from limewire if I don't find it soon.
Anyways, this album reminds me a lot of Amy Whinehouse's Back to Black. These two artists got issues! As we all do, and I think that's why I can appreciate their music so much. Battling our demons is never graceful or poetic, yet they make it so by using music. That itself is innovative, but what makes it more unique, is how their bringing these soulful, yet sort of depressing lyrics into their genre of music. These aren't blues musicians or old people with banjos going on about all the problems they face. Amy Whinehouse brought conscious and emotional lyrics to jazz. The beats and beauty of her voice will have you singing along about... smoking weed to get over a bad relationship. Budden is doing this to rap, when the soul of rap is starving. Matter fact, I think its the soul of rap rhyming in these songs that talk about deep depression.

Anyways, once again, enough preaching from me. Here's another track off Padded Room.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Love is a Choice

Love is a choice

Not a feeling, not the passion.
But people today
still tryin to dress it up in a new fashion.
They try to make you believe
it is all about the hugs and kisses
but that shouldn’t be the main factor
when you change your name
to Mr. and Mrs.
People have taken vows
and made them into contracts.
Sign off their names with certain conditions
instead of just simple facts.
For better or worse
is just for the wedding show
but when bad weather rolls in
instead of taking cover
they decide to go.
How is it that you cant choose who you love
but can decide when you’re out of love
and want a divorce.

Isn’t that a choice?

Love is a choice.
Because I choose to be committed.
No matter what you do
the forgiveness is unlimited.
It is when I decide to love you
even when I don’t want to.
I want to hate you, and hit you, and curse you.
I want to run the other way
and leave you because you are wrong.
But I will forgive you and love you anyway
because I hope that when I am wrong
you will feel the same and stay.
God gave me a partner
to love him as He loves me
so no matter what battles come our way
right by your side is where I will be.
Love is a choice
because it doesn’t come and go
like emotions.
I have decided to love you
and I will love you
even when it feels like you don’t love me
because I chose to share my life
and even when things are tough
I’m still proud to be your wife.

MS

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Padded Room February 24th

I've been listening to a Jump Off Joe Budden for about two weeks now non stop. I've been sleeping on him hard and I apologize. I'm better than that. He's just nice. Not only does he have creative concepts for his songs, but he knows how to use his voice to convey what emotions he's feeling, a little bit like Lil Wayne without the auto tune. Anyways here's a track off his album coming out tuesday. Judge for yourself so you dont think I have a man crush or something.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Potens, Potentis

Potential
I wish the word had an extra l, so it could really be broken down
Potent is its power for all..
at least everyone who doesn't just try to reach it
but seeks it
tries to not just scratch its surface, but dissect it
and get underneath it
as a country, i wish i could say we've reached it
when obama became president many preached it
but it was days later when i heard whites say the n word
and weeks passed on and i heard a brotha use the c word
that i decided when describing america im never going to use this p word
because once again, the essence of the word is scary
its limitless nature and significance makes it all the more leery
two l's could just enhance the meaning, in showing how it goes both ways
how it can turn for the worst.. smoking ll's, getting high of them cool j's
shot dreams down, and hopes that makes it hard to cope
with yesterdays mistakes, so in misery we soak
drowned with disappointment when failure meets our eyes
wishes stay unfufilled, stars look further and further away in the sky


So words i manipulate and juxtapose
and dress lines with careful diction
make sure my thoughts are fully clothed so they can provide a proper depiction
of what my eyes view as paramount for people to see
People are blinded when too much light presents itself which is irony
hoping that my dreams will materialize
when they seem far fetched when viewed by material eyes

ice

The past is the future's present
see it presents itself in many ways
every day we're urged to live life for tommorow
but in doing so we commit to neglecting the knowledge of our ancestors
render it meaningless to borrow
Buying into an ideology thats nearsighted, the mental equivaleent of fools gold
Often times claim that we've been dealt bad cards in life, when without looking we fold
So in response their souls are forced to dig new graves
so as we continue to bury ourselves, we'll realize our ancestors paved the paths in two ways
America's a country that's been built on deception
Ignorance is bliss, so we tend not to ask questions
And if our eyes dont meet the reality that exists,
our mind will accept a Machiavellian type government, full of lies and tricks
Got us gettin less spiritual
Not beleivin
got our lives full of meaningless rituals
Rehearsed
going non stop in no direction without knowing how to reverse
I get less worried every day about the future
News tellin us we're screwed, i look for the wrench to make it looser
Look to the past, knowing that dreams didnt start with Martin Luther
Knowing that history repeats itself
And if knowledge is key, we should look back, if not only to release ourselves
don't believe in carpe diem but prescribe to dead poets
cuz our society could learn a lot, from Frost and Shakespeare, breaking down society's ills as we know it
I've learned the characteristics of people transcend
So generations will always be plagued by greed and envy, but maybe we adjust the way we can defend
But people fear wut they dont understand
so their old language cant provide a helping hand

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Back to Black




Right now
My soul is Montreal.
Although its appearance may be beautiful
Its bitter cold.
And I wouldn't say it glows
If it appears green, its becuz of the dark world it dwells in
take it not as beam of light but as a sign of sickness
My soul is Russia right now
Its on the brink of conflict with the body it dwells in
In a power struggle
To figure out a how to persevere, while preserving its current state.
My soul is Paris night now
A cathedral seems more like a sight, than a place I want to be.
And the Sene River, is a complete fallacy to my soul right now
the most beautiful body of water...
makes my soul's eyes cry, and the rivers breathtaking nature
makes my soul angry that it can't voice the beauty of the world to my body
its weak... and it may be to late to recover
wackness!

Cycling


It's easier than riding a bike
Wheels spinning, but not like the played out rims
my energy is imposing its will on this never ending cycle
A cycle filled with dirty laundry
continuin to turn but incapable of being cleansed
emotions rehashed, resurface,
yet stay unhinged..
worn out tires, but still good to ride out with
like the physical version of a classic track

Been pedaling for awhile, striving to stay steady
despite all the obstacles and obvious stop sign on this path
i continue to take it
Conscious telling my body that it needs it
Physical therapy, as im gone with the wind
enjoyin the breeze that helps my mind deal with the heat
which is probably why i got on
To remind, relive
remember
how passion feels
its true
riding a bike is something you never forget

Sorry

Wuts up world? I apologize for not writing. My bad! I promise to write some more poems, articles, and to get people thinking. But in the meantime.. Black Ice anyone? Dude is nice and real soulful but i hesitate to put his poem up.. Mad N words.. it is black history month afterall..

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Great article





I don't know if anyone truly understands the implications of Barack Obama's presidency on Middle Eastern affairs. Maybe my post about a month ago concerning looked to simplistically into the matter, trying to magically derive some sort of solution or prescribe a plan for peace. What about the existing perception of the nation's people and middle eastern affairs within our country? What about trying to understand the type of change that the region has undergone, in even the past decade. In any event, here's an article by the very talented Parisa Saranj, that offers quite a comparison between Obama and Khatami.


http://brighthall.aol.com/2009/02/04/worries-build-for-iranians-obama-vs-khatami/

Sarah Kay

......................

I give up
Like the sun does as a summer's night approaches
Reluctantly leaving but not without leaving its impact in the form of horrid humidity
I leave, frantically running, like a child deciding that home is not home anymore
in hopes that the path that my mind chooses for my legs to travel will have something to do with where i'm destined to be.
Relapsing, reacting without thinking, semi debating, leaving no time to rebuddle
My life mirors that of the abandoned buildings found in the boondocks of the place I call home
No matter how many people drive by and look judgingly, senselessly waiting for them to be annihilated for aesthetic purposes, it stands bravely alone
Cynics depreciate the beauty of life, and realist deliberately develop a plan to battle life's brevity
But I do neither
Perhaps because I've lost hope
Like my hopes for Power Wheels and universal peace, they've all been terminated by the traumatic repercussions of growth
Purity is often perceived as precious as it pertains to kids, but it's essence in relationship or lack their of makes me realize that
The impossible, is indeed just that, impossible
Sarah Kay was wrong.. friendships aren't always worth building despite the splinters you may get

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Pillows

Pillows are my best friend
Last nite I dreamt that today was yesterday
When you blatantly confessed your love
I was sleeping with my eyes open
Concentrating on your lips not the words that came out
Comforted by your presence
But in hot flashes i woke up
Mind stuck, with the picture frozen in my mind
Hoping my actions didn't miror the stench of morning breath
Hoping that the chapter that coulda been didn't ended before I even started thinking about the book
Sleeping on a moment that can't be recaptured by poetry
The opportunity can't be recreated, because the opportunist that always needs to be their wouldnt' need it to be
My state of bliss could be a reality
but now i stand on this computer with my pillow by my side trying to sleep away the day
cuz the nightmare that hampered my thoughts is my dream that was right before my eyes