We are all performing for each other, sneaking furtive looks at our Facebook while big brother watches every move, so we try to be smooth but we’re mostly fooling ourselves, pooling our wealth into the pockets of the few who can exploit our intuitions and inhibitions, guiding our volitions into the abyss, artificial intelligence manipulating with elegance, effortlessly evading our defenses, we’re stuck in psychological trenches down so deep and so dark we keep the lights on with the spark of imagining our face up on the screen, fame or infamy we’ll take whichever if we can live forever, so the birds of a feather flock together, tethering into groups of similarity, reflecting and retweeting to infinity, infinite me, define me and refine me through the digital lens, cleanse me of my subpar self, replace me with an avatar elf, help me be the best and arrest the theft of my soul, life’s terrible toll, free me from reality by letting the real me, the me I want to be, finally be seen. But this method is madness, a pathway to sadness and regret, hours stolen by scrolling through feeds, reality filtered and enhanced, living for likes and shares from people who may not even care, who are just staring at screens, afraid to go outside, to be alive, because reality is out of their control, but maybe unpredictability can set you free, anonymity unraveling the blindfold we hold over our eyes, deflating the ego that social media’s creating, when you look outside and see how big the world can really be, humility sets you free, feeling small in the best way, resting in each day as a part of the whole, no longer constructing a fake soul for a digital audience to see, instead you can finally be. Just be.

These words are not an escape
my mixtape is pure brilliance
my mind cut loose, boundless
and I found this when I found bliss
on a blank page which I rained on
My tank full, I couldn’t miss
I shot ideas into the dark
Where they lit a spark
which ignited and reunited me with my desires
blazing fires in my brain
an outlet for joy and pain
and everything in between
I empty myself clean
in emptiness I exist
peaceful, effortless
nevertheless my eloquence is undeniable
It’s not arrogance or impotence
Resentment or indifference
Its creation manifest
Destiny yet to be established
Creative electricity
Neuronal elasticity
Synergistic synchronicity
Using every wrinkle and groove
To prove that your mind can move fast enough to keep up with this linguistic clusterfuck that my mind makes up when it runs amok

Sometimes you just have to go for baroque in this acapella life.

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.