#urbanword

[lackwhen]

with @mobrowne @blackgirlmagicball + @urbanword nyc . laquanndawson.com/booking . #nycphotographer #blackfashion #blackphotographers #blackgirlmagic #urbanword #nyc #brooklyn #lackwhen (at Brooklyn, New York)

[kuzcopia]

I see fields of green

I see fields of bloody lilies, blowing in the wind.

Bloody fields of green long past, and leaves fasting in-between.

I see fields of ruined flowers, like nothing's ever been.

Reddened pastures full of has-beens, and miseries never seen.

I still dream of pretty lilies, blowing in the wind.

Healthy fields of green well vivid, and leaves dancing in-between.

I still dream of pretty flowers, like all have ever been.

Real pastures without fissures, and joy without sin.

Kuzco

[kuzcopia]

Down

Beaten down, all around town, low brow bow to things that don’t deserve the kowtow. I see the familiar ways down, way down,

Down down down.

Of trains of dour thoughts and dreams brought low by soul droughts, motivational doubts, hopes try-harding to be more than faults. These swamp moats that used to be a house, which crumbled right down into dust, down to a shape that can never be found.

Down down down.

A temple, the strong body fumbled, the body was brought down in a rumble. Beaten down. Taken down.

Down down down.

And all they care is that I don’t frown, but instead turn it upside down.

Down down down.

[kuzcopia]

Visit Original Link

Rhymin used to be a thing that every day I could pull off, on demand untangling, this myriad of thoughts uncross. To a beat or a cappella, my soul’s rhythim was the fella: unwinding feelings of confusion, straightening the one solution, creating oh such commotion, persuading my own emotion to getting up out the ocean of crippling and foolish notion of still-lying without motion thus lacking my true devotion.

*breathe*

To dreams unmet due to goals unset amidst a cycle running between different levels of upset, because old as I get, what I achieve is just that: a fat stack o’ crap.

But that ain’t even real, told myself I lost it, locked away and sealed. Metaphor aside, you can’t lock anything inside. You bury it deep, but it will seep, and in due time, it will creep, back out into the soul.

Where it will fill and overflou’.

And pour it all over the world.

[cecilyschuler]

I cant stand on this rooftop without being tempted to test this ... back." @musicmannkosi319 #uwnyc #urbanword

[kuzcopia]

The difference.

The gates flung open with roaring beasts ready to tear the earth asunder if it wasn’t for the collective minds and wills that struck back like thunder.

Violence was spread and misery wanton, good perished in the fight to protect the cowardly and the bad, to find meaning in a life that was coming to an end. The blood was dust and dust was flesh as the good ironed the environment with its painful endurance, its tortuous sacrifice ultimately hurting meaninglessly and ignored by the cowardly and the bad.

We are the cowardly and the bad.

Mockery and learned reasoning took over testimony and veracity. Limited perspective obfuscated truth with what’s relative. Important with what’s exploitative.

We are the cowardly. And the bad.

...

And the ones who know it.  

[ensotaves-blog]

#urbanword #urbanwordnyc @The Point CDC. (at The Point CDC)

[truevoicestv]

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