Dish.

The greed for green, that's the poetry that poets, poetically refuse to abuse, at least publicly.

Refuel, reenergize, and rewind

My third eye no longer blind

I'm going to unload what's exactly been on my mind

Abstract,  top cat, white lines, all black

That's right, I'm back.

Violent adolescence

I can teach a few lessons

To those who grow up to throw up gang signs thinking its the "in thing" 

until you're in things.

 The guy who stabbed you is at your feet, or worse just a few feet away smiling

 If you only knew that years from today how life would be; Would your decisions still lead you here
or would you have walked a different way?

  Now the opposite side of a barrel after you refuse to ride up on the ones that rode up on you is only one a breath away

I know a few alive who couldn't hear so felt, [imprisonment]

argued with God for the hand they were dealt 

I just played better than most with the face of a poker champ

My camp, burned at nine, again at eleven

The short pieces of peace intercedes between twelve and fourteen  

My best friend constantly, questioning about drug deals 

because the apparel was more than appeal.

You know appearances are everything growing up I remember walking through red hook couldn't wait until I stepped into Fort Greene could only relax a block until my path was blocked at 14th  I push a grown man on train tracks after he tried to grab my backpack

I got stories survival can only moralize

immortalized gang fight in Jr high left

more stories on me than any I could summarize. 

The conclusion was, respect the game.

With almost perfect aim would have left me a heartless bloody mess

I could tell you about the homie 

he, who Sha, not be named 

who got us in deep luckily we had strong lungs and a rope to pull us back to shore, still to the lore of living on the violent side of the law shone brightly in him and he almost paid

dividends, body divided from spirit

Poured spirits when I heard he almost left the land of the living. 

Cried when I witnessed how he hugged his baby sister,

And went silent a week later with the shooting of his mother. 

The Chronicles of Lost Men in the Hood are chronic tales 

repeat offenders, defending territory.

An innocent girl committed suicide for an unsanctioned pregnancy had to choose her baby or a family because he was a real nigga for one night but happily married for life. 

She took her own. The father of her child was her father and he followed by his own hand after he had learned she left him on the earth alone.

You wanna know what real gangsta rap is about, take a trip to the ghettos of the cities full of tourist attractions, where wall street have two different faces, 

What does your money pay for?

Witness what really happens.

Even local news wear bullet proof vest if you look close enough, 

The chalk outlines are recycled,

The combination for tagged toes ran out long ago

There's now four, 967 John Does

The greed for green, that's the poetry that poets, poetically refuse to abuse, at least publicly.

Refuel, reenergize, and rewind

My third eye no longer blind

I'm going to unload what's exactly been on my mind

Abstract,  top cat, white lines, all black

That's right, I'm back.

Mirror Me

Mirror me!

O believe that you've been ripped from the rib that was part of me
your next breath is mine as I inhale, so,
your lungs fills with life....
I plan to never exhale.

My eyes are embers, that burn for you.
Your eyes are, ebon-asiatic bold enough, never to disconnect
the resolute of your stare silently reassures,
That we are tested to withstand eternity in your gaze.     
So get up.

Oh Mirror, mirror me!

With change, this win came from within

The wind sang a new tune of a hero
From a rising sun,
the son of Cesars and Pharaohs.

A man with such a pride
The last lion. King.
No matter what defects, faces him
He proclaims! "He is him" and him is me 
I can't let obstacles and instability deface, defile, nor ridicule me
Its ironic my ego by default has been built as big as me

(the sun)

Have a daughter her name, Sierra Leonis

Oh stained mirror, mirror me!  

Soaked in espionage

Each word a blood drenched bullet.
Random stanzas are my magazine clip and I empty it
Tagets aquired,

to take down the states of man,
Now I'm realizing which mirages are mere realities
living outside the margins of reality.
To be in a run for presidency of the free word
we coined the term Artistry,

but vote for ourselves,

cause we honestly don't give two fingers about democracry. 

My minds stays busy the term "idle hands"
holds no prevalence because a pen is always to hold...

as:
My mistress - when I tell it to bend it does my will for me.

 

 

Oh Cracked Mirror, Mirror me!
Remember I used to be 3/5 of a man in an unusual land

now superman
and that's superior to man, but why not woman?

which is no good.
That ideology ingraved in us

metaphysically though the hierarchies:

The robe wearers and chain bearers

Modern history named them slave traders;
But when I know I can no longer leap over skyscrapers with a single bound...
Louis Lane would be there to hold me down
that's why I may be king by blood
..but she's my golden crown
Queen.


Oh Transparent mirror, mirror me!

I may be reckless

in saying I'm the best,
but look at who is...
Currently well rehearsed in verse
Only competition is, who was
And Shakespeare, move over
Be cautious for my lyric
Let your spirit become the rhythm
To the hymn
I sing in praise to God.
Godly these words are
Like oil slick
The Black to that Gold
Shakespeare wrote great plays that was only play
Socrates now can't touch me
Aristotle and every apostle
My apologies John Donne, I'm the new Don Juan
 Hammarabi's code, decoded and
Rosetta stone would be chiselled has my grave stone
 last line reads:
 Here lies true diction, satricial fiction, may he rest with the rest of the abstract living
I wish this to be existent, as non-fiction

Oh Mirror, mirror me.
It's been so long since my
reflection shone so.

UP ( Uncensored Poetry)

When I write I try to be on my best behavior

I can literally talk about anything and give it flavor

However,

by public demand, sensory and limitation are what build annotation

And tell us write according to who's who savior.

Well I'm to go into labor

Give birth

To something that act as a disclaimer

tales about the government, love, and religion,

Sexual preference, disease, and drugs, I can scribe scrolls about addictions.

Speaking publicly, being hetero sounds just as homo so I guess that why they created metro as to say in the middle. Medii to you!

 We're all anal-sexual, once in a lifetime attracted to some type of asshole

Just taking the literal, and giving the abstract point of views

Obviously these are made up as life goes because everyone knows...

God, just started to disrespect gays, Jews, rap, sex before marriage along with everything else
The church decrees don't agree with.

Thank you Fathers. Priests. Gods.
 

...

By the way every religion is Catholic to me

Christians, Jehovah's, Islamics Hindustan, and the hundred others all have the same faith I do.

Hard work gets you places and in the grand scheme.

But still, do as the Catholic do.

Artist are dangerous

The public glorify you

Your views

Your crafts

And that spreads what you do
while you humiliate and debase everything,

but Love...
but Admiration...
And Color.

To much shots are fired

The aim is directed at me 

I'd close my eyes and fire back blindly
probably not hitting a thing.
 We artist, disregard the wright,
protest feeling.

Unethically a Suitcase Sonnet

I'm sedated by the serum in your lips

Infatuated by the smile...of your hips

intrigued by intellectual conversation 

that I dumb down

Your brain commits; as you convince me why,

why I should love to see you smile.

Wait..reverse that

Let me, let you know, I'm worth a lot more than just some time.
(1.reverse that)
(2. stop the hands on your watch)
(3.contemplate that last line)

I helped rebuild a home and its not even my family

The soundtrack, if my life was a movie -
an idea worth considering a Grammy

You dissed loyalty when you tried to accuse, 

then the nerve to affiliate with the embodiment...

of misused

Oh believe that you've been ripped from the rib that was part of me

your next breath is mine as I inhale, so,

your lungs fills with life....

I plan to never exhale.

Toms and freckles.

Caged monsters in our souls, we name confusion

Death has been delivered but hell is long overdue...as we indulge

I can't scream so I whisper!... in hopes you're near to here.

Strain to hear please

My words are heavy, though dangerously intoxicating and carefully placed to please

I constantly search for the only lasting curve;

Smile.

When a door closed

Juxtapose...
When one opened

You and me

Jonesing..

Maybe I've been drinking a little to much, or not at all

that's only because I'm been thinking, a little to much

I dream:

The purple and green hues blanketing the mountains peaks

A log cabin in Arkansas

during the winter on a cliff isolated

This is where our first time would leave us elevated

The fireplace not the only source of heat as our bodies reach temperatures only hell should be

At the height of it you wriggle to the top of the bed

to uncover your head from under the sheets

at the same moment you squeal followed by a moan then a silent laugh

And then a mute squeak

I wanna go where there's more dreads and less weaves

More roads to travel but less streets.

Shallow mud puddles along with sparkling creeks

Brick roads and buildings

Scenery where first kisses are remembered 

Where stars blanket cities.

I want to look in the skies and witness hues crimson

The sunrise turns your honey brown eyes golden

(or)

Just wake up and make those things a reality

cause really I see you and I happily, 

holding hands, casually.

Walking somewhere, anywhere 

like down a street in a busy community of Florence Italy

laughing jubilantly about becoming intertwined in this frenzy 

because the locals are ordinarily friendly and us, loving 

every bit of the culture, the art, true beauty 

and you aside a Monet - two beauties;

Moni

only few ever see such scenery

Only comparison is God giving us sight thankfully, 

to wake from this dream to see you gazing at me.

This! I'm in love with,
This is life journey into unexpectancy
a leap of faith after a prayer
the only uncharted destiny.

Our Labor

You don't have a clue  

Like the first time you touched a rubix cube 

The rubric raised 

You want to be perfect?

Score a hundred then cube it. 

Visualize:

Emmett-sized being beaten Emmett-like victims 

The hopeless become strong only to victimize 

thus creating other victims 

It's the cycle created 

a play, manifested 

a few manage walk off stage

a few fall slave to the play

None of the characters live to see what life could of made.

From the beginning standards tried to alter our native

But artists accepted no alternative

We never compromised

Screaming just as our ancestors

In our voice is where our ancestors ideas lies 

Freedom

We embrace color

literally and metaphorically in massive amounts of magnitudes

We misuse rulers for measures

Pay no attention to the lines 

We painted on the outside

Of buildings where they distribute federal pensions

these same structure's create and stimulate financial prisons  

Because they raised the cost of living

while the dollar died 

Retirement at 65 so its a rat race is full 

old people trying to work for a few extra dollars 

Steady working nine to fives 

clock-in early

beg for overtime 

clock-out and die

for the sake of trying to maximize 

our net-worth. 

That's when society puts us in catalog categorized as not nearly alive

It happens somewhere right after a mid-life crisis

Everyday I'm alive I want to live

Every breath I take a I'm thankful to her

Cause I don't believe gods a man

However I believe that man made god in his image

to constitute the pillage 

We constantly hear stories of how people was raped and stripped from their villages 

What we fail to realize is these are currect events

repeating historical instances

I hate wearing stripes unless its my socks 

Red and white

Christmas for Christians 

The flag for politicians

they say religion and state doesn't mix

but settle instances and coincidences like this exist 

The Metropolis 

Full of politics 

For any black man

convicted without Cochran to back him

The judicial system push cock up in him 

Automatically assumed he's uneducated 

Prolific astigmatisms about negative cognition 

…Now the legal system

A visionary literary vigilant…

This isn't anywhere near finished. 

Intonational Incantations

That line of coke snorted 

that pipe sparked 

I'm so addicted to being an addict 

just to add more diction..hopefully this is well crafted

I hope these lyrics recreate a reflection 

… 

As I let you in

Lyrical assailant

Verbal pilot

These words should steal your attention

a literate pirate..

As I use this to steal some of your time 

and moisten to most private, privates 

,,,,of your sanities 

As I begin: 

When you lay your head on me

I try and listen for your heartbeat 

If you are still, as nervous as the first time

….or if it has completely stopped as if it beat the last time.

Grim reaper screaming motherfucker take my hand

My sister were her brothers keeper, but could never play her hand 

I gave up on religion, until I started contraband

Hail Mary's strained my eardrums when the yellow cab crashed

the roof removed and replaced by the sky

The bruises and black eyes 

Covered by a mask of make-up 

And a smile as a disguise

The lies to the loved ones

The struggle for a daughter and a son

Dead at a early age 

From him

The virus that beat her life away

The eyes of a woman swollen 

At the end she tried to leave

But with broken legs she can't even creep 

Yet alone walk with. 

and here I should end this

But after another sniff this ink because to find the words themselves and 

I began to abandon all hope of ever dropping my pen..

My ink began to ejaculate.

with semen as words 

I began to create: 

To court her you'd need to hit a line, 

and still manage to have the asshole in you, 

to arrive, 

on time.

Pay for her past bullshit that travels... a land before your time

Crack, helps you deal with shit like this

Be careful, she is addictive.

You will be wanting to get up and leave, and stay to see her smile

It is Highly afflicting

Can not fuck her physically, so you commit it mentally

metaphorically eating her pussy until she claws at your brain and screams, 

to inject her, with the only elixir she knows that could fix her.

She does not understand why 

Why I'm quiet when she has desired conversation. 

I just need confirmation…

that I can shit without constipation

..here is where the death of millions, but one is waiting.

Have you ever laid in a corner and looked up at the ceiling?

Wonder what would you do, if you were boxed in?

Caged? 

Enraged?

All you can do is put on a play

Act well behaved so you can escape and inflict rage

upon a baby..that innocence 

Tracing back my steps to remember the first time we met

You touched my heart and made it stop...

Everything paces itself whether we like it or not

Trapped in dimensions where the created kill the creator and his images

My mentor is beginning to become what they consider demented 

Unreleased but, no relief from these streets

My mind is tremendously relentless

So I hit this last line..and hopefully you can keep pace this last time:

When brown became the new black,

Light skin became the right skin.

Skinny became the new fat,

These became the new facts.

Even the president is a percentage that

Don't let hate split your ribcage 

Behave and get your life straight

Something familiar to what our elders use to say.

It's said man does not live on bread alone

His hopes and dreams fuel him on the long road alone

He rode to the destinations 

Where he can lay and retire in restitution 

Moving from the birth when limbs allowed 

Forced to bowed to his beliefs 

As what he regarded as relief is released in his then queen

Just to succeed to the seed 

In her indigestion

Now digest the rest of his thought feeling unrested

Mind constantly tested its moral limits 

Believing only the Gods of men have a conscious small as any

That's the only way he can phantom why his God allow him to live the way life is

In the shower I shed a tear

Thinking about what is at hand

Knowing one day soon, 

I won't be able to wipe his or hold him near

I pictured the next time I see him

Me, telling him daddy loves only God above you

Then confirming he understands 

I imagine him saying I'm his hero

Something I know would never escape his mouth

...that sorrow 

because to him, heroes walk around in masks and tight clothes

Damn.

Just an empty space behind these eyes

I've already witnessed my demise

Living in third person

Viewing, what now I only realize

I guess that's why they say everyone has 20/20  vision in hindsight

…So I take one last whiff my nose completely in it..

Knowing, that tonight..

this addiction..

is just the beginning... 

Shoot the Messenger N Send a Clear Message

Hip hop poet

Provocative verbalism

Is my religion.

Anyway life dish it out 

I'm giving it

My words cut so deep

I can let my soul seep 

Literary activists

Have stories to tell

Most of us grew up bastards

Recognize struggle

From within the rumble

we still grew up well

Is the government creating the public hells?

or is it us relying on them to make us well?

The deeper my thoughts sink

The more you'll want me

To explain my frame of mind

The pictures are all sublime 

Your spine tingle with each rhyme

I guarantee after this you'll be mines

The head bang is insane when the flow keep flowing

The cypher of the poets stem from several empty bottles of Moet

The development of this eloquent conversation and the direction it's going

Subjected to cover mutilated morals then...

expand to the multicolor of defense, a nation goes from white to red in a matter of seconds 

when lyrical bombs become present from an influential presence

It's a fiasco when one say Barack is a terrorist

or when it became common to invite criminal advocacy in the home of the president

So I say Lupe for king 

Push Common for residence

Because its obvious some things are amidst when we free child killers 

Or what about lawlessness of the legal system commends

the execution of Afro-decent victims

I believe Michael Jackson doctor should of used Kasey Anthony jurors 

He would a gotten off and kept is business in order.

In order to beat me you have to be willing to die yourself

My thoughts are sick I'm in great health

Trying for sympathy in the streets,

is like reaching in the stomach of the belly of a beast

I can tell you a few stories being raised by the east

I've witnessed some things that'd make Fat Albert not want to eat

Bastards raised by the streets 

The coldest winters they carried the only source of heat

Cause the projects were a project by the Roth-childs that loved feasting on the weak

You can either live your life or live a lie

You can either challenge each question 

Contest every request or enjoy the ride

You can't do both and don't think twice 

cause either way there's dark and light

I can't even stop writing

Its like I found a new vice

My words crawl around my head as if it were lice 

I stay hungry for success like I only consume rice

I can't quit now matter how many times I fail,

I never fail to try.