Poem for a Girl

When I was losing stars in the night I wished the sky to be blue

 

But,

 

As I drowned in all this holy water, all I could think of was you

 

This is the beginning; I overcame a time when glimpses of sun were to few

 

And I believe in you and everything because you are so true

 

 

 

As a new rose grows, I want to take your hand, run and not even stop for the sun

 

Our hearts pacing,

 

Because I want life to not matter at all, the seconds and minutes pass one by one

 

You’re blinding, that I want to fast forward to new times and then go back and live in rewind

 

Because you are one of a kind

 

Auttimn, I was waiting for the clouds to pass over, but now I’m going to read this poem aloud

 

Something so blue, and now all that’s on my mind is you

 

I stare into your eyes to the sound of a melody, because your grace is the symphony

 

To say what exactly that it meant to me, to pass along transcending dimensions to create a better entity

 

The seasons were there to take care, and then summer past and autumn came to appear

 

 

 

Look in the mirror and you’re a dazzling dancer in the question of life, in which you are the answer

 

To a life worth living, I’ve been parading around the old past looking for pain to be forgiven

 

A life worth living

 

And,

 

I can’t wait until tomorrow to give her my heart with giving

 

You were the stars from the start, and just like trouble times each night the sun departs

 

And the night tends but the day restarts, and you are

 

Imagination compared to sorrow, it’s the fact that if I’ll go slow so WE CAN BE TOMORROW

 

 

 

It’s the clouds they hold you my dear, so if I should wipe a tear or listen to you as you conquer each fear, I want you to know I sign all my poems sincere

 

I was caught in the sea battling me; doorway to the future is entry I can’t see

 

I kept fishing under the moon, they told me to be patient and that my catch wouldn’t come so soon

 

Turns out, it went past June, and I would walk around Sovereign park, when the light shined upon couples and gloom complimented the dark

 

I knew nothing about girls, until I met this pearl

 

In one day I stared and my life became a swirl

 

Next week I had to be dreaming, but this scene and this conflict I was fleeing

 

I realized it was the most beautiful girl in my world that I was seeing

 

In her beauty I was believing, and as I stared with wondrous eyes

 

My chest began to curl because,

 

I’m so fond of this beautiful girl

 

For Auttimn :))

Pen on Paper

 

 

I don’t understand why they can’t make this chain gleam, why can’t I keep the walls clean?

When I slaughtered the competition blood splattered everywhere

I have visitors coming by but I don’t care, the mess is a sign of my ascension

My reputation, isn’t one that’s to nice

I reject Christ, I tried to off myself twice and was never a fan of Obie Trice
Thoughts were itching viciously and they thought I had lice

Used to brainstorm as a young child, teased almost to death for my belief in thought

Killed a few rhymes in my times but haven’t been caught

I may not be the man that you sought but I’m a problem

My era has been delayed massively, as]p

I wait dissing close friends and family passively

I spat illness nastily, throw up paragraphs with the propensity to add words to the sky

Growing up my household was do or die, I wrote the yesterday so what do you think?

Now I’ve got a couple dollars to spend and a good shrink

A good reason to continue to blink, each day I’m evolving into something new as I think

There is a pause between each inquisition, As the fair weather turn cloudy and change their position

How do I make the decision to bring home a win?

Believe me I’m a cool cat, but try to double team the best and where’s the party at?

Knock you cold, and wouldn’t even drop my party hat or my night cap!

Not feeling scared these days, just trying to figure out how to pass time in different ways

But can end your hopes and fears with one swirl of my pen on paper, the death of love to make the world safer

 

For my Grandma (2nd Re-Release)

My Grandma taught me everything i know, and one of the things she repeated often was, “Dont Take No shit from nobody.”

 

Painted a lullaby and the child inside wanted to cry, physical description to show how I’ll die, I’ll replace every swear with a bleep, clean up my act and pledge in some prayers that my soul is for god to keep, fake like I’m indebted to religion, indentured to some sort of spiritual beginning. Buts its my Grandma who I’m owing, Edwina the Queen, I’m not going to fake like I have a hard gangster lean, but my family started the new haven scene, it was 1950s, travel back in time to get the definition of mean

 

A Clip of even numbers in my umbrella, alphabet cars painted blue, red, and vanilla, switched from acting hard to a pink hat like DJ Yella, and now I have a hell of a smell, for the misery, and the pain, I threw myself into rehabilitation with nothing to lose and  nothing to gain. I held pictures of my grandma to keep from going completely insane, shot caller in a mental institution sporting a benzodiazepine gleam from a whole different lane, I conquered my demons but I made it look plain.

 

That place erased all restrictions and moral, Desensitized to the violence but I can’t write raps about slinging Cristal , I can only embrace my Grandparents as my two best pals, the hate almost derailed my voyage home and I fucked up the tall roadblocks to the height of a gnome. I think about days sitting in room with blood dripping, I was crying all alone. If you had my genetics or looked through my eyes, why would you worry about dying when you roll the dice, Grandson of a Queen so why would I never not rise, blessed to be able to observe the stars, I can upgrade my home and crash a fast car. Through all my success my Gran will never go too far from my heart, sprinkle cigarette ashes on the daily depart

 

 

 

And with all this debauchery, some of us chose to go on and on about pubescent philosophy

 

And this is the plight of the living dead, verbatim is a death sentence so never quote what I said, now I’m reminiscing about the days when I didn’t have two thousand fans and the potential to publish a revolution right at my hands. Gil Scott Heron would be proud, passed down the asterisk and the slant, Black Panthers are gone but now I’m the man

 

Kool G Rap was on the edge of sanity, and now I sit back judging this calamity, the town is overflowing with drugs and prostitution to bring the grit to reality, calling out losers is just a formality, to win is like spewing debonair profanity and I’m crushing a hyped house of shit and I’m not talking about Amity, disturbing the peace to the metal of the wood and drawers that are shitty, I was bred in the underbelly of a ugly city, I’ve got the lock on the these other skinny cats, can’t touch me or the way I’m shitting facts

 

So fuck copyright, Fuck Rights and Motherfuck the peace, I’m the man behind the book taking a stance. My message contradicts my sickness, decided the winner early to add some speed and art to my hit list, who rhymes like this spitting in tongues with such quickness, I’ll bomb the world with mediocre physical fitness, I got this world on Lockdown and I see the horizon with my grandma as my witness. There were three sides to the story so when I finished my 180 degree spin, I contemplated solving the triangular equation before I’d begin, It is my pain that suggests suicide before  I win. I always worked to keep my mind, but god decided to not include me in the general population of mankind.

 

I got my butter from Calcutta without a pot to piss, can’t see me in a decade with a shiny gold wrist then I’ll help you see the future with an optometrist. Spat lines of ill shit with a major lisp, economist had me in the front sea while I sat back with a morphine drip, then I flipped and moderately constricted the script, I wrote this little book and promised my grandma I’d never ever slip, having my family in my heart with keep me from injury during my ego trip.

 

Maniacal motherfucker for goodness sake, I don’t wake and bake, and I hate and fake, like I don’t wake and pop, even with the world spinning around me I’ll never stop.

 

 

 

You can’t put a number next to my name, take a life from my surplus because I live life like a game, KKK stopped us in our car and I swear we never changed lanes, my grandma passed down BDI, Black Determined and Insane, I’m an abomination and a lion so ill slap you even if you think it’ll be easy for me to be tamed. I’m not the warm hearted boy I was raised to be

If I Can’t Do This…

I made a melody, but if it will only add insult to injury then ill forget everything I wanted to be. I made a joke to death, no more insults if you can help me before my last breath. My life is beginning to undress, ill destroy this whole house, and if the world ended I wouldn’t have to die with a gun in my mouth. Sickness, but I have hope that’s plain to see, this world is melancholy with one last violent plea

 

I’m so lonely, I’ve been to the door and forgot the key. I wrote this book lately, please keep helping me, hold my hand just so I can stand. You may be a man but I feel like I’m still a boy, deprived of toys and joy. To some this is a game, but ignorance is oil to a blue flame. I swerve back and forth between each lane, I cut my arm and exceed expectations to stay sane. Chasing fame, drowned cupid but still looking for love, there is no heaven just clouds up above. I wanted to see it but I’d be denied, I could write a magnificent article about how I died

 

This is morbid, this is absorbing my fatal wound, I got mad instead of glad and I keep losing every fucking thing that I once had. My skin is green, my body is gaunt far from lean, the thoughts for my masterpiece are so obscene that the obvious conclusion would be that I’m mean. I’m sick and I’m ill, go back to rehab and my sponsors will pay the bill. The moon and my motivation is over the hill, the reason I get up everyday is a big white pill. As long as I smell blood I will prowl, as long as there is competition I will kill, you can maximize a howl so we can all enjoy the sighting of the rarest owl right above Dream Mountain. My heart drips skill and determination as though it was a fountain, the Strawberry’s are youthful, passion is becoming less merciful, I needed a shield so I used an old friend to finally make him useful. He caught to in the chest, one in the leg, imaginary bullets cause everyone to beg. People talk so much shit, their breath stinks, you may be tough but I’ve got the intuition to make your ego shrink. My dad tortured me and I barely blinked, baseball bats, spitting in my hat, calling my mom a rat, I always limped but i didn’t blink, I saw a future with a large contract that I could ink, but oh god the pain is making me sink!

 

My ink…is nearly dry, I use my quill to write these poems, synthesize tears as I begin to cry. Please hold me friends, because I don’t want die! Some people feast on my dreams, I had a fetish for your feet to call you supreme. I bowed, praised and gave advice, but now they search for another boy entice. As far as you’re concerned, we aren’t friends you’ll help me burn. This is indirect, but by god help me heal this painful slice on my neck! I’m so close to being gone, no symphony, no award and no song. I wrote a letter to god, please forgive me and right my wrongs. And if I fall, please know that I loved you all.