I had a nightmare
There were Al-Qaeda babies crawling in my room
With turbans on their heads
I know it sounds racist, it's awful, totally sick
but you gotta believe me
These Johnny Jihads were glowing in the dark
And I sensed bombs in their brains, saying gooooo geeeee gaaaa-gaaaa!
I've never been so terrified in my life
I had to leap over them, they were so fucking real
Any moment they'd explode
in a thin blood step of suicide
and Al-Qaeda day care
It wasn't just that
I knew the evil they'd become
Let me tell you how I got in this awful mess
I had this crazy idea
about confronting evil
Rwanda, genocide, all that shit
In all the books I could find
I thought I could make peace with the world
If I just cried my guts out
ship-wreck some snot mess, you know what I mean
Well, I guess the joke's on me
I needed a nightmare to tell me
There's no truth in evil
There's nothing to find
When it's all an illusion to begin with
Just like that nightmare
What a lesson that was.
I'll always remember those Al-Qaeda babies
They really saved my life
As twisted as that sounds
And yes, it's a true story
If you don't believe me...
Then God help you,
And you'll meet those Al-Qaeda babies.
The rain was harsh last night
The thunder clouds clashed within the night
Thunder and lightning struck as one in force
Two pairs of eyes googled in the dark
They sat in the bunk hugging each other tight
As one soothed and calmed her little sis
While the other held on for dear life
Then a light came on from the hallway
As their mother entered in their bedroom
And quckly she gathered them into her arms
And sang sweet lullabys to them through the night
‘HUSH LITTLE BABY DON’T YOU CRY’
‘MOMMA’S GONNA BE HERE WITH YOU ALL NIGHT’
Smiling contendedly they lasped into sleep
As their mother sat in the dark
And held them close to her heart
Thanks for being there mum from the daughter who loves you
For always smiles
One of the topics that broached while in class was…Is Rap Poetry…I simply replied yes that it is in fact poetry and that I ‘am a poet there was a quick reply quite loudly stated that no it is not, as to this response I was baffled as to why students firmly believed that Rap is not poetry. Hence the debate
Debate: Is Rapping Poetry
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Rapping (also known as emceeing MCing, spitting bars or rhyming) refers to "spoken or chanted rhyming lyrics". The art form can be broken down into different components, where it is separated into “content”, “flow” (rhythm and rhyme), and “delivery”. Rapping is distinct from spoken word poetry in that it is performed in time to a beat.
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This particular information was obtained from the world renowned site Wikipedia under the title Rapping, so the quote rhythm and rhyme are associated with what is commonly known as Rapping.
It has been a fascinating eye opener for me to write this particular piece in regards to the origins of both rap and poetry…both types of oral communication through which we like to convey to the audience in a lyrical format that all can understand and appreciate. So Rakim and Big Daddy Kane agree upon the fact that rhyme is often thought to be the most important factor of rap writing…rhyme is what gives rap lyrics their musicality.
These men are well known Rappers in their own right and have written a book simply called ‘How to Rap’ It has been noted that rap’s use of rhyme is some of the most advanced in all forms of poetry – music scholar Adam Bradley notes “rap rhymes so much and with such variety that it is now the largest and richest contemporary archive of rhymed words. It has done more than any other art from in recent history to expand rhyme’s formal range and expressive possibilities.
RYHM is in as we all know part of our English which encompasses the use of lyrical words in a format which depending the writer’s expressive writing can either be in Poetry format or lyrical poetry format…and depending on the syllabus and the tone of the writing of poetry or lyrical poetry it can be expressed in song, poetry or rap.
I would like to demonstrate with you my own rhyming of words that I wrote myself to demonstrate this factor.
My Rap Poem
Ryming and Poetry
Yo yo lets Rap it..
Yo yo lets gap it…
Rhyming and Poetry
Don’t diss a poet
Whose passion is words?
What fool told you
That rap aint poem
Aint it a fact
That rap is words
Aint it a fact
That poems is words
So don’t tell me
RAP aint poetry
Take it from a poet
Whose passion is words?
TAKE DAT….WORD OUT
I would also like to quote a poem that was written by a poet and this particular poem became famous not only in the poetry world but world wide
The Rose that Grew from Concrete
Did you hear about the rose that grew
from a crack in the concrete?
Proving nature's law is wrong it
learned to walk without having feet.
Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams,
it learned to breathe fresh air.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete
when no one else ever cared.
This poem was written by a Mr Tupac Shakur or better known as 2pac, Shakur began his career as a roadie, backup dancer, and MC for the alternative hip hop group Digital Underground, eventually branching off as a solo artist he was also a poet.
Is Rap Poetry or not Poetry
This debate came about when we were in class and my tutor said that Rap is Poetry, Myself and Lee said verbally no it is not. This is why we are having this debate.
Rap is one of the biggest selling music genres today, and many rap artists also consider themselves modern day poets, as do their fans. Whether you prefer poetry over rap or the other way, around there are definitely similarities and differences between both art forms. The main difference is the music. In poetry, a combination of words will create a rhythm such as iambic pentameter, the first word is an unaccented syllable followed by an accented syllable with total of 10 syllables with a total of 10 syllables per line. There is a rhythm to the phrasing of poetry and rapping. The difference is that. The rhythm of rap, works in conjunction to the beat of the music, so although the phrasing can be different, both retain a certain type of rhythm and flow of words.
Although rhyming isn’t always present in rap or poetry, it certainly is common. In some poetry, the words at the end of two consecutive lines will rhyme, or the words at the end of the second or fourth lines. However, some artists will make a variation of rhymes throughout the poem. Rap will also rhyme, but the beats of the music will sometimes dictate the phrasing as well as the placement of the rhyming words.
With poets and rappers, one of the biggest similarities is their desire to convey a message. The content may differ, but the need to evoke an emotion response is the same. It’s typically driven by their view of the world or society and wanting to state their point of view. There is often the use of metaphors within poetry and rap to convey their message and some is written that allows readers or listeners to make their own interpretation.
The most obvious difference in these two artistic styles is that rap is words put to music, and poetry is not. Also, big considerations in rap music are the beats and the groove. In poetry, there is nothing consider but the words and the rhythm and rhyme. However, in rap the importance of the beats can sometimes overshadow the importance of lyrics. Rappers are also sometimes concerned with whether or not people can dance to the song. Chances are you won’t find many poets that are concerned with whether or not their poems will inspire them to dance while reading them.
As an old saying goes listen to the music not the beat, the words feel the pain and emotion it screams listen to their story as in the life you learn from the stories. You gain pain you feel emotion, you get lost in the rap. Know what their dreams and hopes are in the word, as the beat was just the drive like your own heart, different beat, different words, but one heart and one song. I remember a time when music use to relate to what we do, a thing we hope to say to a lover, or a crushing dream, or to be a Casanova knowing that if you could not say a thing in your mind or heart the song could say it for you. One time I remember being so angry at the world, and my family, had dark times my world, writing poetry couldn’t cut it for me, it could explain and yes it rhymes it sounds good, but it always seems to miss its point for me, but one thing remains with me, I time a shared with friends around a few drinks, I heard a song by 2pac about his mama, what he said, really explained what a mother is thinking, this guy knew what I was thinking and how I felt, he knew how to explain his point. I sat their listening to his rap, he said; ‘Aint no women alive that can take my mamas place’. I wondered as I kept listening to his song, I felt we related on a higher level, I can’t explain how this guy can put words in a rap that helped me through a dark time in my life, and Rap as always been a big influence in my life.
It was interesting how the topic ended, and as a poet I still believe in the positive but the opposing team closure had me thinking again but then I realized he has not been exposed to poetry in general…so therefor it was indeed an eye opener for me. The positive was myself the negative was a student of mine Matthew, His last conclusion of the debat was written in his own words, I am very proud of his work and I will as a poet will introduce more works to him as the course grows...I have told them I am a poet...they laughed at me hence the debate... I just had to prove my point and you know me...never step down from any challange...grins...anyone else want to prove to this young man that Rap is Poetry. Negatives 5 votes Postitive 5 votes...that was a surprise in itself.
My students are Matthew, Lee, Samson, Ken and Ngametua.
I would also like to thank Silentwriter for giving me the idea Rythem And Poetry as a heading for my rap thank you sir.
When your dark dreams,
Reflect an unknown;
Then, the revelation is that:
The Earth will go bare;
A yield will be shattered;
Plants will lose its trunks;
And their leaves will
fade away and drops down;
A death will occur;
There will not be any single
drop of water in your tank,
to wash away your own
(All poems in this series are translations from Malayalam, originally written in author’s mother-tongue, “Malayalam’”, the language of Kerala, in South India.)
BY WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
Soft pads glide over silky pale flesh
Deep pools of ocean green become darker with passion
Every touch brings the storm closer to the couple
The raven haired God like man looks over every millimeter
Her face flushes at the feelings building inside
Her black waist corsette pushes her ivory globes teasingly near
the point of spilling forth
Dark red tendrils lift off delicate cheek bones tickling her face
Her belly flutters as tiny goose bumps raise against her arms
The soft padded fingers begin to explore this creature who has walked
right into his trap.
Long lashes lift revealing startling violet eyes
His breath catches harshly
He does not seem to realize he is under her spell as she remains in his trap
Julia's body is burning as Allen's fingers and hands weave an inferno built only by his touch
Her body responds as she feels the moisture begin to gather between her sweet petals
Trying not to move lest she give away the affect he has upon her
Allen watches her eyes noting how they seem to change to grey
His thumb slides across the bud covered by material yet
It cannot hide the obvious desire as the tender flesh hardens and a soft mewl escapes pouty lips
Julia begins to blush as her body betrays her mind
Allen chuckles at her discomfort
His hands and fingers seem to set her on fire every place they touch
She feels his knee prod gently at the apex of her thighs.
Moving slightly his knee grinds against the promise land
Flames fall back as her head follows suit
Sweet moans reach his ears inciting his passion more
Her hips move against his thigh trying to increase the friction
Allen rips the cumbersome corsette and shirt free allowing cool air
to kiss her flesh where his tongue wishes to follow
Pressure builds within the lust filled redhead, she digs nails into his shirt
pulling him closer.
Allen's tongue swirls around first one then the other swollen bud
Dragging his teeth hard over the delicate flesh
Julia cries out as desire spins out of control.
Allen begins pulling the nipple into his feverish mouth suckling
Then biting as fingers pinch and pull the other
Julia grinds down hard on His thigh not paying attention to the moisture that stains his pants
She stiffens when she feels his hand pull her dress up allowing his fingers
to slide through her dew laden petals
The smell of need permeates the air
As his mouth continues to suckle then bite his fingers slam deep inside her
silky soaked lips
Julia's legs quiver when his fingers fill her well it is almost her undoing her screams of pleasure fill the air
Allen brings her to the edge filling her deep with long fingers
Releasing her nipple he begins to kiss and nip her neck fingers coated in honey slow down
Julia growls in frustration and he bites her neck hard just as fingers pinch her clitoris
She holds her breath panting as the inferno increases hotter
Both are sweating now as she begs him to allow her to fly
Allen chuckles whispering "not yet Lil vixen"
She grinds down on his fingers trying to take what she wants
He is wise to her movements stopping abruptly until she realizes he
won't continue unless she stops
Suddenly out of nowhere she is turned over his lap where he brings his hand down ten times fast and hard cross her ass
His knee lined up so each swat digs into her wetness
Crying out she bites her lip willing herself to not release
He pushes her to the ground and starts biting the tender buds while pulling and twisting that hardened flesh that has swelled past it's hood
Pace becomes faster as he growls in her ear to fuck his fingers
She does so with wild abandon
His teeth bite down hard on her neck licking the area he bites
His fingers curve up as she grinds
Allen growls out NOW as his mouth finds her lips
Crushing them to his, catching her screams of pleasure
Her well explodes in spasms gripping his fingers hard enough to break
Julia quivers all over from the massive release, blushing as she remembers
her response to all he did
Allen drags His well manicured nails across her blistered half moons
Hearing her moan loudly, knowing he could send her spiraling just by spanking her once more.
Julia ducks under fiery curls trying to escape his scrutiny
Allen knows what she is up to and pulls the silky curls away
Lifting his soaked hand from between gorgeous thighs
Placing fingers between their lips kissing sand licking her juices off
The taste on his lips brings a feeling of decadence through Julia
They will meet again Allen said
Julia watched as he left her there hearing a car start
Now nothing but silence and the smell from her traitorous body
Whispering to the darkness
"Please return to me soon"
Written by: Jennifer Humphrey
May 23, 2013
I managed to piss off most everyone close to me
Family, friends, ex-lovers, attorney
Both ends lost in translation.
My communique was loud and clear
An APB that I wanted them to hear.
You don’t care about my pain and suffering
You don’t want to help me
You don’t love me
I have to do it alone!
And, Alone I am
As I sit and ponder
Reflections on the water
Telling of a world
Ingratiating, loving, supportive
If I allow it
Against all odds.
I'm tired of sitting here
Night after night,
Thinking of how the world could be better
But never taking a step forward.
I want to write something of importance;
Something WORTH writing:
I want to change the world
So here it is:
W O R T H
Never let a n y o n e tell you different.
Cause every life is unique,
Every soul is alive,
And the odds that you came out the way you did are
You are an individual,
Who can't be duplicated;
Someone who is loved,
And will always be missed.
No matter who you are,
Where you come from,
What you do,
You matter to someone.
You're existence changed a life,
And irreversibly shapes the world.
There's a beauty in a mind..
And that is true for me
..But most of all for you.
Everyone has struggles,
Every story has a beginning,
Only you can decide how yours will end.
So make it beautiful,
Make it powerful,
Make it change the world,
Make it worth writing.
History tries to teach us that
R E V O L U T I O N S
Are violent acts,
That they are won with Bullets and Gunpowder;
Revolutions are won with people
Who stand for what they believe in,
Who look into the fiery pits of Hell,
Who stare into the face of Death,
Who fight against all odds,
Who devote their lives to a cause,
Who shape the world with ideas.
Let's start a Revolution,
Let us break the shackles of society,
Reshape the human mind,
Dare to be avant-garde;
Here's your guns,
Let these three words
Be your ammunition:
"I Love You"
I'm my light in this dark,
lets go bodies in thiss park,
Hit you hard blood like some shark,
leave you down,
sad face mad clown,.
I'm a mad chic,
I'm a bad trick,
where I rome in this town is the home to my sound,
hear me back feal around,
I like to rap still under ground
all bite no bark,
Cause i'm quiet,
POP LIKE A RIOT,
Here I am, cold and numb
Sitting, Standing, rocking back and forth in the dark,
My bedroom seems smaller and smaller
Difficult to breathe, I almost choked
Drinking salty tears,
Grieving my own death..
Where do I go now?
What have I done?
My shadow is spinning around..
Topsy turvy, my life is upside down..
What a mess, just spinning around..
Round and round...
swirling around in the moonlight
Hate my face, hate my life, spin around...sheer madness!
Repeated defeats,my dooms day is here...
I can’t run..I can’t hide, I spin around...
Meaningless, fate is spinning around
I am spinning around with a sad smile on my face
Nothing left... even the moon is shying away
I am standing, spinning, dancing my own death... pure madness!
I have no fear, I am just Spinning around, around, around....
There is this space that exists inside.
In between my ribs and just under my heart.
It's not in a place to constantly remind me of its presence there.
But it does get nudged from time to time.
It holds onto things I've tried to rise above, to let go of...
But never fully doing so.
Things like negativity and doubt and stubbornness...
Like self esteem bruising childhood judgements.
Like bitter regret of missing out on "I love you" before someone dies.
Like ignorant teenage decisions there was no reason to be making.
Like that secret you told and the one you promised to keep.
Like dutifully cleaning up after destruction since it was easier than starting over new.
Like the coltish grace of learning to be a woman without one.
Like leading a child with having no direction of your own.
Like taking that last piece.
Like hoping karma takes over.
Like waiting for a sign before walking away from toxic people.
Like throwing your heart out there with only faith and hope to be its wings.
Like innate fear of being alright with who you truly are.
Like disappointment for taking all these years to figure yourself out.
Those are some things that rattle around on a quiet and calm night.
On a night that finally arrives after strenuous days bleeding together...
They ghost in and remind you they're still there.
It used to terrorize the still moments when that happened.
No control over the flood of images and empathy associated with each and every reminder.
I thought it was in times like that, when drowning with the sorrows of yesterday was just as easy as an exhale.
But I was wrong...
I was mislead in my own thoughts.
Because when I was tapped on the shoulder by history.
It wasn't trying to hold me back.
It wasn't intending to maim my conscious.
I believe in fact, it just simply wanted to show progress.
To show the "then", compared to the "now"
How every piece of who I am today was shaped and structured in part, to everything I haven't let go of yet.
How do you know when your soul is weaker than strong but mighty enough to fight?
In being made to contemplate all the wonderful and fulfilling things and parts of who we are,
We also have to give credit to the dark pieces
The events and people that have burdened and burnt but never destroyed.
Like any balance in life we acknowledge both light and shadow.
Appreciation of the good in our lives is more fluid when we have proof of the struggles we've overcome.
Be it years ago or hours,
Seeing how far you've come from that which had held you under or has trampled your spirit.
It helps enlighten bit by bit.
And a step at a time is how we all move forward into who we're meant to be.
So i think, that space that exists very close to my heart but just far enough away...
I think I'm okay with it being there.
It may hold scars in the eyes of others
But I know scars are just golden reminders;
Of that which make us stronger.
For if one has no scars, what has one conquered?