#tupac
Yes Tupac was a rapper,
But he was also a poet.
He wrote the words the world needed to hear.
He sang "Brenda's got a baby" too bring awareness to a struggle that was all to familiar and real.
When he spoke about a rose that grew from the concrete he was making sure the cycle of struggle didn't repeat.
Long live the Rose that grew from concrete, and long live Tupac Shakur.
Jul 12, 2023
Jul 12, 2023 at 12:43 PM UTC
you've heard about the rose,
that grew from concrete,
it learned to walk,
without having feet.
funny it seems,
we forget about the rose who,
never got the chance,
to keep his dreams.
or a chance to
breathe free.
like the rose who succumbed underneath
all of life's adversities.
like the rose who was shot,
by a force of unjust police.
or the rose who fell victim
to generational poverty.
or the rose who was born with a
serious disability.
or the rose who came from a
long line of broken families.
or the rose who felt the effects
everyday of inequality.
making it harder for him
to spread his great leaves.
lets not forget,
about the rose who couldn't,
rise and beat the concrete,
and whose body lies underneath the concrete,
lets not forget
about the rose who couldn't rise from a crack between,
the concrete.
Feb 16, 2020
Feb 16, 2020 at 2:40 PM UTC
the Rose that grew from concrete...
the delicate face
of a fragile beauty...
guarded by some tough exterior -
dutifully unacknowledged.
indeed, achieved a great a feat
but still
buried underneath their feet.
everyday trodden;
not once a chance to thrive -
effects of a circadian stampede.
A Rose
that grew for a simple life,
but the beauty within had died.
Her leaves she let wilt,
took every blow she was dealt -
dull thorns now to speak for.
color drained with a droopy stem,
wishing away dark clouds
so then maybe
she would
See more.
Rose.
could she have had it all?
her existence left her nothing.
party of one and the place is full of Rocks.
a stand-alone soldier in a grave situation;
the hurt wouldn't stop coming;
should we pray for such mercies?
she figures...
no singular mercy could unseal her fate
the blade of society is sharp and
against her soft petals it continuously scrape
...when you've felt one pain you've felt them all.
senseless emotions
trigger moisture in the stigma
finally a drop of color -
to the concrete it would fall
rich red
like the Flower
that once cracked those gray walls.
Feb 8, 2020
Feb 8, 2020 at 1:03 AM UTC
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13_8x_rxhVg&list=PLbM5LMVZad0bNiepJmrb-DIBdHUZAKETC
Jan 8, 2020
Jan 8, 2020 at 6:45 PM UTC
What is it we all fear,
reflections in the mirror.
We can't escape fate,
the end is getting nearer.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 7:53 AM UTC
You got to find a way to survive
'Cause they win when your soul dies
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 2:35 PM UTC
Did you hear about the rose that grew From a crack in the concrete?
Provin nature's laws 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 even cared
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 12:45 PM UTC
Who cares who shot JFK I wanna know who shot Tupac,
who cares about the CIA's JFK Files release date,
it’s 2017 and I’m on a plane watching All Eyez On Me,
flying westbound outta the Westside of LA,
on All Hallow’s Eve and it’s all feeling kinda spooky,
because I’m on this plane with another Libra The Boy Drake,
and I don’t care who shot JFK,
I want to know who shot Tupac,
met Suge two times and got the feeling he didn’t,
plus when they hit Pac even Suge got two shots,
so who shot Tupac,
as I write with all I’ve got,
in red ink as my red eyes blink,
pen lines looking like blood drops,
all eyes on me,
until my eternal slumber,
but enough about the words,
what about the numbers,
75 million albums sold,
713 songs,
7 films that’s 777,
same as the title of the latest book I put out,
seems Tupac and I,
share a mutual obsession with the #7,
plus his last album Killuminati was subtitled 7 Day Theory,
not to mention the fact that Pac was shot on September 7th,
as I trace the early similarities,
between me and Tupac,
I think back to when I almost signed with Suge,
and I too feel like Tupac,
I too was raised in New York,
I too got put on in LA,
I too almost lost my soul in Vegas,
I too am both profane and a saint,
I too feel confused and conflicted,
I too both sin and pray,
I too write with a sense of urgency,
because I too know tomorrow isn’t promised today,
I too have found my street instincts to be risky,
I too have gotten it on at the Luxor,
I too know there’s a thin line,
between Love & Hate and between Enemies & Lovers,
trapped between over the top celebrities,
and detectives undercover,
and I’ll a pirate sailor sailing high,
but still I have to fight from going over,
oh Lord,
forgive me for I know not what I do,
and maybe the reason I feel guilty,
is because I waste my gifts on **** and *****
choose,
your own adventure,
lost,
caught up in the trap that’s why they call it a trap,
winnin’ till when that window rolls down and you don’t know,
if it’s gonna be a gun shot or a camera snap,
I know what’s coming even though I don’t know when,
signing my own death certificate,
like Pac signing to Death Row,
see he thought he was just giving Suge his Music,
but really what he was giving him was his soul,
nobody know when they’re gonna go,
we’re at the table at the Last Supper till they pull our card,
which I guess is sickeningly befitting,
considering Tupac was shot in Vegas on Las Vegas Blvd.,
and all that’s left of him,
is this movie that I watch on this plane,
and what’s happened to our music,
lost Tupac and gained Drake,
and that’s not a shot at Drake,
I mean Drake’s cool,
I’m flying with him to Australia,
but Drake doesn’t have Tupac’s soul,
our music has been watered down,
now Hip Hop sounds like Pop Rock,
I mean how can you even compare,
Hotline Bling to Keep Your Head Up,
what the fck,
how’d we go from Black Panther,
to ***** cat,
how’d we go from I Ain’t Mad At Cha,
to Best I Ever Had,
and I’m not even mad,
I mean I respect Drake for sure,
he gets that money and has always been good to me,
but Drake is no Tupac that’s for sure,
but I won’t elaborate further because,
we all know what happens when you ask too many questions,
so I’ll just keep getting my money and writing my books,
& keep going to church without admitting confessions,
and I’m ending,
this poem right here with an RIP,
RIP to Tupac,
Rest In Peace,
another leader slain,
and I’m so caught up I forgot what I was saying,
even forgot where I was,
which is flying westbound on this plane,
writing verses in blood red ink,
feeling like Pac All Eyes on me,
wondering who shot Tupac pen lines like blood drops,
as I write what I think with all that I’ve got in ink,
ink as red as my red eyes that blink,
sending this poem off as a literary Hail Mary,
with California Love even those it’s Me Against the World,
Keep Your Head Up & congratulations Brenda’s Got A Baby,
and I know I’ll likely Live & Die in LA,
so I wonder if there’s a Heaven for a G,
& if there is Dear Mama I’ll meet you at **** Mansion,
& please know I Ain’t Mad At Cha but I’ve gotta go so peace…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
30/10/17
Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 10:11 PM UTC
Drunk games of uno
2 shots for the loser
1 for me
&
1 for you too
Can't feel the heat in my chest
But it's creeping up my legs
Immune to the liquor
Cheap ***** tastes like water now
On you like a sticker
& you wit it
Making love when we kick it
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 11:45 PM UTC
Young hungry people
Grab hold the first sight that they see,
For what's present is plastic, you bought the rough piece,
Starve, keep starving
Misery shapes the soul,
Somethin'a callin but, I don't know
I dug and dwell my little hole
Keep quiet, keep quiet, shh
Don't need anyone to know.
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 11:33 PM UTC
Something we all adore
The one thing we are dying for
Nothing but pain,stuck in this game
Searching for fortune and fame
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 8:50 AM UTC
I see a job around the corner
Gotta keep busy while I survive
In the country where all the inexperienced get no jobs
If they hire me, then hire me as an IT worker. No need to worry
I expect replies very soon.
There’s a job around the corner, any day
Trying to keep my CV and letter together. No one dies jobless anyway
Struggling and striving, my destiny is to work
Keep myself near the phone, no falsehood in my words.
In a ball of confusion, I’m thinking about my daddy
Working harder than anyone else, he really shouldn’t have to
Family separated, Brothers and sister can’t help me
Got me stressing with my phone, it is not healthy
Am I **** Tell me the truth
I’m looking for jobs, ready to work
Running out of money and my mind can’t take the stress, how’s my health?
Makes me feel useless, but I see a job around the corner
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
How scenic,
the view of the city from this rooftop.
But I've seen it all before.
I'm really looking for a new spot.
I've done it all yet i still need time,
Kind of like a new clock,
i even met the devil once,
Had Jimmy Choos and a blue top..
but just when i want to leave,
i remember why i stay.
I remember all the cracks on the concrete
i see by day.
And every crack has the potential to grow a stem.
Kind of like every person has the potential to grab a pen.
And the most inspiring of moments is when a rose blossoms.
the thorns might be thick, and the scent might be off some..
the petals might be thin, but its still looking awesome.
Do you follow my story?
Can you grasp my allegory?
Can you understand why I revel in this garden i see before me?.
You may just see cracks,
a street needing a fix...
But I'm in total bliss speaking life into exist-...ence
hence,
The reason my view will never get old..
long live the rose that grew, regardless of what it was told..
-afj.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
Even when my wonderful
universe seems like
a cosmic mess,
Even when
all these souls
leave us in the
form of death,
Even though I'm
underfed, underslept
and can't catch my breath,
I emit love
and so who cares about all the rest?
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
Them: So you're a lover, a fighter, a rebel, a matyr, an activist, and a poetess. May we ask who inspired you?
Me: Tupac.
Them: Tupac who?
Me: The greatest **** I ever knew.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
"Dear Mama",
Question...
"Is life worth living or should I blast myself"
I'm always searching for those "better days"
knowing that peace in my heart will come In "Thugs Mansion".
Where I can "sip champagne
while I listen to Billy Holliday sing
and sit there kickin it with Malcolm till the day came."
Should I "ride on my enemies"?
Become one of "Amerikas most wanted"?
Or should I remember
that "the road is hard so I'll never give up"?
And "time don't stop, always going by.
So I'll puff on mine, hoping that it will get me high"
Smile for me.
"Won't you smile for me now"?
"It ain't easy" being a changed man
so when it feels like "all eyez on me".
I just remember that
"heaven ain't hard to find".
But I'm Not starving, I been eatin Hardy,...like the night at that "Gangsta Party"....
Certain things happen, I wana be happy so I have to make some arranges... Hopin in my life I have the ability to 1 day make those "Changes"...
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC