Turning lead into gold is an old story, boring, the real glory is in transforming every morning, every hour, every second into something I won’t regret, getting lost in a song, along for the ride as my mind intermingles with the music, amused by the flow as the muses move my atoms into beautiful patterns, white matter glows white hot, neurons fire in sync and a spark is shot into the dark, fireworks explode in the sky of my mind’s eye, they blaze fiery trails as they sink deep, deep into my soul, the embers glowing, never knowing why but still they try to make me whole, illuminate the dark so I don’t ruminate in gloom, the music in this room is saving me from doom, and only because I found a way to pay attention, to surrender my defenses, fill in the trenches and let in the outside, no longer hiding I am inviting in each moment, and in doing so I transform normality into revelation, each sensation a vacation, a powerful provocation and paradoxical relaxation and as my mind explodes I know that infinity is within me, always there to see when I finally set myself free.

This is a poem about hip hop, a rap about rap, I’m getting meta while you eat your wrap with feta because these poets free their words from paper, caped crusaders spitting flows from their domes and putting it to music, evoking emotion and causing commotion by amplifying their words, meditation through creation, showing their wit by going *** for tat in a rap battle, a freestyle of thought, craft a verse and drop it like it’s hot, they refuse to throw away their shot as they create a mixtape of melody and meaning, it doesn’t have to be demeaning, braggadocio is part of the show, part of the culture, we all flee from the vulture of death and if words give you armor then rap harder, better, faster, stronger, flex on em with mental might and fight until you shine bright, when the words strike like lightning, frightening and enlightening, you feel alive, driving fast, the words are at the wheel, tires squeal as you peal off the street, smile on your face as you blast into outer space.

My words trapped on paper, musically handicapped, but I wish I could adapt so I could convert these rhymes to rap but for now you have to fill in the gaps with the music of your mind, the sound of your soul, the rhythm at the root of being alive.

Calmer than I could be but more hyper than I should be
A still pond, ripples growing
My mind flowing and coalescing
Always going, confessing
Singing a truth into the world
A whirlwind of expression
Suggestions and impressions
My most honest confessions
Spending sessions crafting verses, masking the mundanity of humanity with rhymes and wit, because when times are **** we need verbal skits to help us forget
And when times are great I use words to celebrate, relate experience with eloquence and mount a defense against the sad times with these mad rhymes, counting my blessings as I undress the distress, caress these careless thoughts that plague me and harangue me, using language as a cage to contain and restrain the darkness because it’s far less work than acceptance. Language is the way out, reason supplants doubt and I can shout in the face of death, deface him with each breath, replace the fear with here, with now, with this moment and foment a rebellion against evolution, a thought revolution, and finally see that the solutions are the problems, every day you are solving them by being here, holding what is dear near to your heart and living as a part of this, as art instead of artifice.

The words flow like water
Drip dripping from my mind
Like a father’s pride for his daughter
Even after he caught her
Doing something he never taught her
Smoking **** with her friend
Why does childhood have to end?
He laments and he vents and he grounds her for a month
A punishment for growing up, for rolling a blunt
For changing so much
But deep inside he knows that every child grows and he has to let go
That’s the way my words flow

The electric kettle grooves like a gavel bounce bouncing off the bench when the judge won the raffle
The sound waves baffle the mind as the refrigerator hums along to the microwaves song
A beep beepin’ melody as smoke’s creep creepin’ from the oven
And the blender is lovin’ the distraction
Keepin’ their eyes from the action
As he hatchets and dispassionately dispatches chickpeas left and right
No end to the violence in sight
Who cares about wrong from right
There will be hummus tonight

**** blender got his business done but now the fun begins as the stove channels the power of the sun to heat the pan and the plan is to fry the dough, those homemade doughnuts make the crowd go nuts but the sizzle of the grease unleashes the beast of the band, the main man, the rockstar, tattoo on his arm, rugged charm, protects you from harm, my man the fire alarm.

The fire truck sirens join the orchestration and soon the scene of devastation muffles into a hum, but umm, the night’s still young and we could still go, you know, I’m pretty loco for them Doritos and I may be burnt and poor but Taco Bell is open ’til 4.

In this one moment
There is peace without limit
Waiting to be found

The mind peers outside
Into the strange ether that
it forms each moment

In the rippling pond
The water fascinating
I see the cosmos

The only constant is change
So evolution produced the brain
No matter what nature may bring
How fearsome, how clever, how strange
Man has the tool to play the game
To adapt, to upgrade, to remain
So the human is built to survive
But what does it mean to thrive?
The weight of it boggles the mind
When one contemplates being alive
And we long for the days of simplicity
That we left so far behind
So let’s use this miracle of plasticity
To channel our neural electricity
And maybe one day we will find
A way to hit rewind
And evolve toward a goal we agree
Can actually make us happy