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ProFound Hip Hop Aug 2014
We allowed the lies of our lives to expire, when we used to dance around fires, while the heat of our bodies perspired to the gods without names that we lived to be desired by, that we saw from the rocks and the trees to the birds in the sky, and even though this once bitter soul might try, to figure out the deepest questions, the ultimate, 'why?' He's left to walk alone, in a world that's let its heart die, because we gave into the greed, and negated a need, from every drop of blood that we bleed, to the words of our fathers we didn't heed, so we can beg while we plead, in the dirt, on our knees, breaking pottery, and scraping bone, the only grievance we've ever known, the gnashing of teeth, from the torture we've shown, to those less than worthy for the fortune we've claimed as our own, this destruction we left on the shoulders of our descendants, their discomfort prevalent from the weight of our pendants, that we parade around as we hear a cascade in sound, that cries from the heavens, 'We're broken, please mend us!'. But we neglected the ones who defend us, the ones who turn every trend against us, because our hearts are shallower, and we give in to the devourer, when we should have found a love, and with selflessness empower her, with our mouths, and hearts shower her,  with all the grace and emotion, that could prevent a commotion, if only we could for the sake of our devotion, give up the notion that we are owed something, because we crowned ourselves queen and king, though to the table we've nothing to bring, instead with jubilation our hearts should sing, until the bells in every temple, church, and house of our gods ring.
ProFound Hip Hop Aug 2014
I'm strapped for battle, and prepared for war, so societally sacrilegious make a rich man pray to god for no more, but I'm so subliminally catastrophe ridden that I'll take off like a ***** mcdonalds napkin blown from the hands of a man that was shown the true depth of his wager with sin, because I've been looking within and inside the size of my fevered lies that I tell myself at night so I can close my eyes, and stifle out the cries of the boy who staked his soul in the rise of his own demise
Tupelo Aug 2014
Do you remember when we sat on your roof and listened to Wu-Tang?
The kush smoke filled my lungs but burned in the most wonderful way.
Put our conversations into the rolling paper so I can inhale that night over and over again, and get high on the memories.
I watch my mother
Watch the colorful static buzz
Out of my television Set.
It was a show about dancing and synchronized steps
Bending bones
And malleable movements.
The screen was painted
With graceful bodies
And it echoed of
hip hop music
And I watch my mother
Scratch her head cause
She could never really get her
hips to hop
And she didn't know how that was different from
the pop
and the lock
and the shuffle
and the dougie
And I heard her murmur under her breath
"This is my biggest frustration"

I guessed that's what people say
When they just can't get something Right.
When
The feeling
The longing
The want is in them,
But their body
Still tells them to trip over their
Two left feet
When they watch
The way I watch my mother
Want to be a dancer

And I watch my mother
shake it off
and smile
and change the channel
And it is the saddest thing in the universe to me
That she could just forget
that one thing
she so desperately wanted to be.

You
Are my biggest frustration.
That no matter how hard I seem to try
I just couldn't get you right.
I swear, staring at you
Makes my eyelashes
Flutter a hip hop beat like no other
But you just can't dance
To music you can't hear
And you can't see
This amazing
Choreography
I have mapped out for us in my head
I know you're great at that.
You can
Pop
Lock
Shuffle and dougie
as far away as possible from me.
But just like my mother who couldn't get her hips to hop,
I couldn't get you lips
To talk about
Anything that wasn't her
And I know your mouth can speak
But why are you so at loss for words
When the lyrics come
Are my syllables not worth your breath,
Is my rhythm not worth your
step
Because
I promise you I try to catch up
But I trip over my two left feet
When I see your eyes glisten
When you watch her
The way my mother watches the dancers and I know you wanna be with her

So you finally hear my music
Or so I am convinced that you do.

And you shuffle
And take each graceful step
To the beat of
The wrong heart

But I just can't change the channel.
I can't smile and shake it off
Because I have to wait and see
If there'll ever be a time
You'd dance to me.
I hope to perform this one day.
Jim Bob Jul 2014
The corruption within the global system, it's not fictional or an emphasized criticizm, they got people to where they're delusional, it's all apart of their plan like the militarizing of police, they don't give a **** about you but you may deny it and continue on being blinded, that's your choice just know that you're being subliminally confinded, I'm not a terrorist I'm just trying to spread knowledge through the art of hip-hop no I can't stop cause it'll **** with me, if I do I'll want to write inevidably cause I'm indefinately spitting knowledge conceptually, some of you may not understand my message but that's fine cause at least I'm not corruptly infested by the governments' manifested interfection like cancer when they know they got a cure, but they use it as a profitizer to lure people fattening their insecure feeble, without us they're nothing but a group of conceted people thinking they're more important than anything, some wouldn't dare to say a thing against their cause, but when one speaks up then others do the same, they're to blame for the economic crisis' it's hard to bite this but they keep billions that's supposed to go to us, why do you think people are losing trust, the systems a bust and nows the time to fix it, but I can't do it alone we need everyone to pitch in to shift it, revolution'll come and you won't miss the fictional freedom that was fed to us, we'll learn again what it's like to be self-sufficient and keep corruption out cause that isn't a systems right nutrition
I feel like (hip) hopping over the (know)ledge
and free(style) falling into a poets notebook
take me with you on that train (of thought)
going to the shore so i can surf the (brain) waves that flow like a tsunami..
i’ll write my name, followed by ‘was here’, on every single rock and roll them down hills
i’ll carve my name in the poet tree that is used to sun block parties
so you can rest in the shade,
sip your long island ice tea
listen to boogie down productions,
with your feet in the brook(lyn) as your queen got her man hat on
i will stand like a hitchhiker on the side of the road all day and night
until i pass out
pieces of my soul to at least one passer by
i want to reach the mind of that *** that talks so much jazz,
someone beat(box)s him black and blues
i want to tell him there is an alternative to living life without 'breaking' rules and searching for the next 'fix'
i want to tell mother nature to stop wasting food and feeding lies to her kids
i want to tell father time to stop with the ticks...
Harry J Baxter Jun 2014
I was in a rush to grow up
look Mom no cuts
just a stomach of disgust
and the fear that I might go nuts this year
........
I've lost all faith in a world so full of hate
and I don't ******* love music
I just use it to escape
but wait,
I'm caught between wanting to punch someone in the face
and putting a bullet in my head to leave the human race
everything takes its toll
but no there's no toll I can take
I haven't yet found a good reason to be awake
Introducing my corroded bumps I hide behind my smile
I'm angry with the universe for the way she treats me now
and keeps me down
stealing all my energy
feeling like my enemy
concealing my identity
RIP OLIVER HART. If you are interested at all in finding poetry within other mediums of art, the midwest underground hip hop scene is an epicenter for story telling and poetry withing hip hop. Look up eyedea/oliver hart, Atmosphere, Sage Francis, Brother Ali, Grieves, Cecil Otter, Dessa, POS, and Mac Lethal
Seven Socrates Jun 2014
Don’t plant no seeds if you anit ready to garden yet, cause too many uncared for plants leaves the farm in debt, the “rotten”seeds always seem to harm the rest, we can point out the issue why we anit fix the problem yet? Cause anything healthy in nature always get harvested.
Alexandra Floyd May 2014
Passively Pacify Our Minds
Lil Wayne Is Our Guide
Willie Lynch’s Spirit
Masterminds his Rhymes

Spirits Full of Hate
Played Out on Mixtapes
Ancient Ideologies Perpetuate

As we greedily devour
Beats that makes us
Forfeit Our Power

Physically we are free
But our minds are in 1793
Archaic ideologies
chain thee
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