personONE

'shh, i'm poeming.' into forever.

[personone]

missing you

miss writing. inspiration seems so fleeting.

[hip-hop-lifestyle]

Before I bid you adieu, do this one thing for me: out of the trillions of numbers that’s in the world, just leave me a few that lead to you.

Lupe Fiasco (via 2pacabra)

[personone]

in a dream there was a girl I'd never met. if I had to use but one word to describe her, I'd say she was a vignette. an artist by profession, her movements reflected the process of crafting a poem. she loved me but never told me why. I loved her but I couldn't explain how. her face was a dream, but her hair flowed like spilled ink. throughout my delusion she danced to and fro. to be frank it could be described as ebb and flow. I woke up, still in love with the girl of my dreams. the sweet clutches of forgotten dreams pulled me back to slumber. again her face shifted from focus and again, she moved around me like a shadow. anger was betrayed by swift movements without rationale, her paintbrush would mimic this with bold strokes without direction nor purpose. I held her close but she pulled away before our heartstrings could tie themselves in a knot. in that moment our love became a tunnel, empty. I found myself awake with nothing but the shattered remains of our immaculate engagement and a taste on my lips that could be explained as nothing but love. still I whisper your long forgotten name, until my insanity appears contrived.

[personone]

why can i only write when i'm traveling or in love?

i must posses the soul of a bird and the spirit of a nomad. where did i go wrong?

[personone]

i've been struggling, amidst the suffering i can only think in fragments. every demand is a grammar rule ready to be broken. i know my style has gotten sloppy but this is the beginning of my resurrection. believe in my ability to hit back like abstraction. love poems, stories and quotes all attribute love as a noun: a person, place or thing. what they've done is forget that it's a verb. a feeling of wanting, needing, feeling and being. i can be lyrical, creating verbs that pretend to be nouns. sketching pictures in your mind with just the architecture of my words. i can disappear for months at a time and there are few that stick around. i don't know if you just scroll by me or treat me as a delight. sometimes i talk a lot about nothing but in my moments of clarity, know that even a bumbling madman can produce perceptive pieces of poetry.

[personone]

i'm afraid. i'm even more afraid to tell you what i'm afraid of. I'm afraid you'll be afraid of me, once you know what i'm afraid of. they told me fear reminds us we're alive. i'm afraid fear is what will kill me one day.

[personone]

when does a boy become a man? is it when he loses his virginity? perhaps it's when he realizes the impossibility of this reality. is it when he sits on his corner and sells his first dime bag dollar? is it when he attends his first funeral? is it biological? when he adopts the physicality of adulthood. he stands tall thinking he's now a man, all the betrayal and all the bullshit in his life shaping him into a cold unforgiving monster. there's a moment in his life where he questions his existence. he meets her, the person that turns his resistance into jello and straightens his angled eyebrows. his eyes are no longer glazed and all he sees is her. the one that took him from his own personal hell, a world so unforgiving. one day this so-called thug will wake up with her next to her as he hears the footsteps of his children running to his room. when they're old enough, he'll explain the stories behind each of his tattoos and they'll wonder. how could someone live through such an existence. he'll reminisce the first funeral he went to, a classmate's. he'll remember growing up with his grandparents. he'll try to forget his sometimes mother who would drop by once in a blue moon and as hard he'll try he won't remember his absent father. one by one he'll tell the story of each and every scar and he'll pray at night that none of his children will ever have to live a life like his.

[personone]

2Pac: And since we all came from a woman, got our name from a woman and our game from a woman, I wonder why we take from our women. Why we rape our women, do we hate our women? I think it's time to kill for our women, time to heal our women, be real to our women. And if we don't we'll have a race of babies that will hate the ladies that make the babies. And since a man can't make one, he has no right to tell a woman when and where to create one.

Jay-Z: Silly rappers, because we got a couple Porsches, MTV stopped by to film our fortresses. We forget the unfortunate. Sure I ponied up a mill, but I didn't give my time. So in reality I didn't give a dime, or a damn. I just put my monies in the hands of the same people that left my people stranded. Nothin' but a bandit, left them folks abandoned. Damn, that money that we gave was just a band-aid, can't say we better off than we was before.

Kanye West: Is it genocide? 'Cause I can still hear his momma cry, know the family traumatized. Shots left holes in his face, 'bout piranha-size. The old pastor closed the cold casket, and said the church ain’t got enough room for all the tombs. It’s a war going on outside we ain’t safe from, I feel the pain in my city wherever I go. 314 soldiers died in Iraq, 509 died in Chicago.

Mos Def: When the average minimum wage is $5.15, you best believe you gotta find a new grind to get cream. The white unemployment rate, is nearly more than triple for black so frontliners got they gun in your back. Bubblin crack, jewel theft and robbery to combat poverty and end up in the global jail economy. Stiffer stipulations attached to each sentence. Budget cutbacks but increased police presence. And even if you get out of prison still livin join the other five million under state supervision. This is business, no faces just lines and statistics from your phone, your zip code, to S-S-I digits. The system break man child and women into figures. Two columns for who is, and who ain't niggaz. Numbers is hardly real and they never have feelings but you push too hard, even numbers got limits. Why did one straw break the camel's back? Here's the secret: the million other straws underneath it - it's all mathematics

Lupe Fiasco: I really think the war on terror is a bunch of bullshit. Just a poor excuse for you to use up all your bullets. How much money does it take to really make a full clip. 9/11 building 7 did they really pull it. And a bunch of other cover ups. Your childs future was the first to go with budget cuts. If you think that hurts then, wait here comes the uppercut. The school was garbage in the first place, thats on the up and up. Keep you at the bottom but tease you with the uppercrust. You get it then they move you so you never keeping up enough. If you turn on TV all you see’s a bunch of “what the fucks”. Dude is dating so and so blabbering bout such and such. And that aint Jersey Shore, homie thats the news. And these the same people that supposed to be telling us the truth. Limbaugh is a racist, Glenn Beck is a racist. Gaza strip was getting bombed, Obama didn’t say shit. Thats why I aint vote for him, next one either. I’ma part of the problem, my problem is I’m peaceful. And I believe in the people.

Eminem: I deserve respect; but I work a sweat for this worthless check, Bout to burst this tech, at somebody to reverse this debt. Minimum wage got my adrenaline caged full of venom and rage, And my daughter's down to her last diaper. I pray that god answers, maybe I'll ask nicer.These overnight stars becoming autograph signers.We all long to blow up and leave the past behind us. Cause we see them dollar signs and let the cash blind us Money will brainwash you and leave your ass mindless. My life is full of empty promises and broken dreams. I'm hoping things will look up, But there ain't no job openings.I feel discouraged hungry and malnourished. Living in this house with no furnace, unfurnished...And I'm sick of working dead end jobs with lame pay.And I'm tired of being hired and fired the same day. But fuck it, if you know the rules to the game play. Cause when we die we know were all going the same way. Walk around depressed and smoke a pound of ses a day and yesterday went by so quick it seems like it was just today. My daughter wants to throw the ball but I'm too stressed to play. Live half my life and throw the rest away

then there's lil wayne and his crew who make it look bad:

lil wayne: i like my house big and my grass soft pussy pussy pussy

nicki minaj: you a stupid hoe, you a stupid hoe

tyga: got yo grandma on my dick, 10 10 10 20's

[personone]

i’m an empty shell and there’s nothing beautiful about it. it’s always been this way, me against the world. i learned this too early and the concept raised me and shaped my mental development in such a way as to seem irreversible. yesterday i was today’s empty shell. sometimes i have a hard time deciding if this is reality, and then i realize my dreams are just as harsh and unforgiving. in case you might have misunderstood i’m not falling into some dark abyss filled with the fading souls of a thousand angsty teens. they metaphorically express my reality in the sense that they only think that they’re empty but, they usually don’t know true emptiness. the feeling of being surrounded by the facetious and the realization that slowly your heart stops rigid. until you start bleeding solitude and end up bleeding nothingness. everyday the green in the trees fade ever so slightly and the hue of the cherry blossoms vanish ever so subtly. but hold your thoughts before you try to make me feel better. there’s nothing worse than charity for those who don’t need it. a waste.

[personone]

just you people wait til i'm beautiful.

i said as i sat in front of my computer blogging and eating junk food.

[brooklynbookfestival]

Writers, especially poets, are particularly prone to madness. There exists a striking association between creativity and manic depression. Why are more creative people prone to madness? They have more than average amounts of energies and abilities to see things in a fresh and original way—then because they also have depression, I think they’re more in touch with human suffering.

Nick Flynn, Another Bullshit Night in Suck City (coming to BKBF 13)

[dark-magician-girl]

[personone]

gpoy

[personone]

i want to fall in love again. not because i’m chasing tail, but because there are things i miss doing as a couple. the thing i miss the most are those late night phone calls, where we would talk about our days and tell stories about funny things that happened to us. then as the night grew old, we would whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears. we wouldn’t hang up the phone until one of us fell asleep. if i closed my eyes and just let my imagination flow, i could almost feel her next to me every time she fell asleep before i did, and i could hear her heavy breathing in my ear. a heavenly choir could never match the rhythm, beauty and grace of even her unconscious breath. among all the silly things i've done as a couple that's what I miss the most. the feeling of someone I can talk to whenever and the feeling of being loved and being in love.

[personone]

ironically, "there's a reason why it's a cliché" is becoming a cliché in of itself.

[personone]

i've seen the way you look at others, how you loathe the existence of every single human being you encounter. you see people for who they really are underneath the facades of geniality. most of the time you are unable to hide such strong negative feelings inside yourself and at times, it seems as though you explode with a general anger towards the world. it's you against the world, the fake, judgmental and vain personalities make you physically sick. you weren't always this way, you used to be free-spirited and loving. you used to show us all the colors of the universe in your sparkling eyes. oh and your voice, the way it would ring and chime like the manifestation of clarity. you used to have this aura about you, a kind of shine, an almost indefatigable cheer that seemed too bright to look at directly. it was something about you, a quality that just could not be captured within a single frame or verse. and then, you fell in love with me and now you've become a distant and scornful person. it's a pity, to have someone that hates the world fall in love with you.

[personone]

i rather take a swing at you with a pen rather than with my fists.

[personone]

you never liked us cause we were mediocre both physically and mentally.