"crips" poems
We are the forgotten ones
The ones who can articulate
beyond the guns and knifes.
We don't need a beat
Our word flow through emotionally.
We are here to capture and decipher minds
Teach them all those things school has left behind
How history is only written by the victor
How there's more to blacks than Rosa Parks, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr's his..tory.
Let's not leave out the truth.
Poets stand up, fight for the youth.
We share our truth about love
Let's share the truth about knowledge
Forget the cliches of if life gives you lemons make lemonade.
We freed ourselves from the British.
Then enslaved Africa and made them forget who they were.
Only of Britain would had thought of that first.
Let's not sugar coat the past
Let's control the present and the future.
Poets stand up
We are the symphonies of hip hop, rap and r&b;
We are the class.
We are the Billy Holliday and Marvin Gay of this new era.
Like the fitted cap we fit snugg.
Poets stand up.
**** speaking on unicorns and rainbows
The sunny side of the chi.
Just last night my Lil man's got shot by the cops.
I use to say he was my son
Now I plan his funeral with his mom.
Poets stand up
Bloods, crips, gangsters, thugs re unite as the black panthers.
Poets stand up!
Poets stand up!
As they say ok ok your 15 seconds of fame Is up. No more from you today Mr. Ananymous.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 5:57 PM UTC
What's wrong with the world, mama
People livin' like they ain't got no mamas
I think the whole world addicted to the drama
Only attracted to things that'll bring you trauma
Overseas, yeah, we try to stop terrorism
But we still got terrorists here livin'
In the USA, the big CIA
The Bloods and The Crips and the KKK
But if you only have love for your own race
Then you only leave space to discriminate
And to discriminate only generates hate
And when you hate then you're bound to get irate
............
The Black eyed peas FT. The world
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 2:43 PM UTC
Poetic.....Poetic.....Poetic
Is what everybody is now
Poetic justice is what everybody brings now
Burn the city down
Poetic
Maybe then the government will listen
Everyone a revolutionary
Poetic
Posers standing on podiums
They march for peace but plant the seed
to send you to war
Posers never on the front line
Cowards afraid to die first
Poetic
Selling dreams that don't exist like those of Mr. King
Posers afraid of death
Homosexuals of war
But far from an Alexander
Far from a Ceacer but those are who they chosen to follow since they don't lead none
Poetic
We poets don't speak up
I was going to recite with my stage name
Anonymous my alter ego
My Duo persona
Poetic
But for this everyone should see the face and now the name
Of the man who pointed out the cowards
I'm not afraid of death,
Poetic
I'm not afraid of arrest
Poetic
But the bloods the crips
The nation of islam
Should had burned down
Sallie Mae
Not mom and pop shops
Poetic
Restore the damage
Restore the damage
pay your dues
Go get your 40 acres and your mule
I dream the dream but not American
Since I live my life as if I was to die
Before being immortalize
Poetic
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 9:34 AM UTC
*** for tat only means that another generation seeks vengeance and war
Evening the score only means yet another must even the score
Just ask the palestinians and the israelis, just ask the tutsis and the hutus
Ask the protestants and the catholics, and the crips and the bloods
The hatfields and mccoys, too, were all about grudge
And what has it gotten us, where does it end?
Who is the enemy and who the friend?
I ask this because it seems clear to me
“Either you’re with us or against us” denies diversity
One man’s terrorist is another man’s hero
But you **** mine, I **** yours leaves a net gain of zero
And what about the children in whose faces war is fought?
What parentless future — or present — have they got?
And who stands to gain from perpetuating violence?
Who profits from the pain ... ... and the deafening silence?
Typically a handful of white men do, that’s who
It’s that top one percent, not you
A few families control the likes of halliburton, bechtel and g.e.
It’s their balance sheets that gain from the misery we see
Divide and conquer is their modus operandi, their mode of operation today,
Keep us fighting amongst ourselves and all blame ... is diverted away.
May 26, 2010
May 26, 2010 at 9:22 AM UTC
James Brown Wasn’t Wrong... !!!
You Have To Pay A Cost...
To... Move Like A BOSS... !!!
Otherwise You’ll Get Dropped...
Like... HIROSHIMA Bombs... !!!
If You Don't Move Strong...
And With Power Like KONG... !!!
That Helps You To WIN...
EVERY Fight That You're In... !!!
Because To Move Like A KING...
Takes... REAL DISCIPLINE... !!!
Which ISN’T Something...
That Subordinates Bring... !!!
A King Has Linchpins...
Just Like Wilson Fisk...
Or Bosses Equipped...
To RAISE TITANIC Ships... !!!
Or Flip Scripts Like CRIPS...
Whose Bloodline Is Rich...
In VIOLENT STINGS...
And BRUTAL Killings... !!!
If Their Path Is Crossed...
By... Bosses Or Cops...
Who Need To Get Stopped...
Because What They’ve Got...
Are Movements That Flop...
Like Heads Who Can’t Box...
So... Quickly Get Rocked...
When Chin Checks Connect...
Like Bullets Do Chests... !!!
You See Bosses Don’t Sweat...
When Pressures Upset...
Their Plans And Projects... !!!
They Just Use Their Minds...
As Well As... Wise Guys...
Or Made Men Whose Vibes...
Prove That They're Willing To DIE...
To Maintain Gangster Ties...
For Dons Or... " Patrons "... !!!
Escobars Or Those Known...
As Yes... Don Corleones... !!!
That’s Right Gangster Bosses...
Who DON'T Stand For NONSENSE... !!!
They Move Like Top Shottas’...
Who Fly... Helicopters...
So QUICKLY Solve Problems...
By Using SMART Plotters... !!!!!!!!
Who Stand By Their Sides...
That's Right Like Their Wives...
And Give Good Advice...
Because They Are Guys...
Who Are MORE Than Wise... !!!
When It Comes To Insights...
That Help Them... Survive... !!!
In Times Where They Face...
Detection And Fates...
That Fill MORE Than Graves... !!!
So Bosses MAINTAIN...
By USING Their BRAINS... !!!
And By Knowing That Fame...
May See Them ERASED... !!!
But Bosses Have Style...
And Have To Profile...
A FEARLESS Mindset...
When They Face Arrest...
Or Those Who Leave Heads...
of Horses In... BEDS... !!!
And Bosses PROTECT...
Their Fam’ To The END... !!!
But When They Face Threats...
That Limit Their Resistance...
An Option They'll ACCEPT...
Is To SHOOT Their CHILDREN...
And WIFE To Quell Threats...
From Their... Opponents... !!!
Right In FRONT of THEM...
And Then Say... "What's Next ?"... !!!
A REAL BOSS Moves DREAD... !!!
Or Are Those Who Express...
With TOTAL CONFIDENCE... !!!
When It Comes To Poems...
Or Spoken Words Said...
So That’s Right I’m The Type...
When It Comes To Tight Rhymes...
And Poetic Lines...
Who Does EPITOMISE...
One of The... TOP FLIGHT... !!!
Because Cash Might Be Nice...
And Can Get You A Wife...
Whose Body Is Tight...
And... Corporate Ties...
Or A Gangster Type Life... !!!
But You’d Best Recognise... !!!
That Just Like James Brown...
It’s... How You Get Down...
That Proves You’re No Clown... !!!
And That You Are STRONG... !!!
NO MATTER What Lifestyle...
Or Money You’ve Got... !!!
If What You Profile...
Is A POWER That ROCKS... !!!
That Makes Others NOD...
In Acknowledgment of...
The Fact That You’re One...
Even If You Are NOT... !!!
Who'll ALWAYS Get Props...
Because You....
... “ Move Like A BOSS ! ”...
Sep 22, 2021
Sep 22, 2021 at 9:19 PM UTC
The Knackers-Yard nursing home, rotted and bleak
Where the occupants dribble and seldomly speak
And the medicine is strong while the coffee too weak
Where there's never a care a fuss
There's a trip to the bingo on regular days
And they visit the beaches, the rivers and bays
For the brick-a-brack stalls and the knitting displays
In a rusty mobility bus
Prunella, the wagon of elderly types
With a blanket for every lap
She's a trusty machine of a hideous green
And she's Queen of the Watford Gap
One morning in May when the weather was grim
Miss Margaret Maywither went on a whim
To converse with the orderly, Terrible Tim
And they sat there and shot at the breeze
They nattered and gabbed a selection paces
And tried to put names to familiar faces
But Maggie with plans to discover new places
Relieved the young man of his keys
Prunella, the stolen mobility bus
Where the wings of bingo flap
With a window down and a dressing gown
She's Queen of the Watford Gap
She took to the road with a skeleton crew
Some heart-attack red or a worrying blue
And frequently stopping when tablets were due
They made for a hasty escape
With a foot to the floor and a screaching of tyres
A stopping of traffic and starting of fires
Such fun can be had when a lady retires
In a bus held together with tape
Prunella, the choice of the senior crowd
Each wrinkled lass or chap
There's a lift for the crips and titanium hips
And she's Queen of the Watford Gap
The police gave a chase at a sensible speed
As the Prunella and Margaret rapidly flee'd
When escape is impossible, each one agreed
They would rather be dead than be caught
With a tug of the wheel and a rattle of teeth
With a serpent of tyre smoke writhing beneath
It was probably too late to order a wreath
And the chance of survival was nought
Prunella, on fire and twisted apart
A smouldering pile of scrap
With the wreckage and grease of a dozen police
She's Queen of the Watford Gap
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 5:48 AM UTC
I've always wondered what drives the hate felt towards each other.
How man discovered love and then hate all in an instant.
I wonder what happened.
How we lost our way.
How we decided one color was more beautiful than another.
How we decided some beliefs were wrong and some were right when the only way of knowing was visiting the after life but that's just it.
We can't.
Yet we waste our lives away hating.
Instead of living.
From the time of Romeo and Juliet to the Bloods and the Crips.
From the Holocaust to the Middle East.
And it's still ongoing.
Generation after generation undergoing the aftermath of the previous and it's shrugged off in textbooks.
History.
I don't want to believe that as the conclusion, that there is no hope for a better ending.
Each and every person on this planet has a beating heart and working lungs.
We are all in this together.
There's not enough time to count the stars in the sky, or the fish in the sea, but there is enough time to love each other.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 11:34 AM UTC
Maybe thugs aren’t shooters,
They all need to decompress.
Calling themselves gangsters,
Never should they be blessed.
Thugs don’t get all their girls,
They pay them just big bucks.
Killing like they own all worlds,
Murdering with all their Glocks.
Blood gangs, where are the Crips?
Crip gangs, where is the Bloods?
They are fake owning their cribs,
Murdering just to own any goods.
Gangsters don’t own their swags,
It’s the Rap Game, it’s the G Code.
They rob and steal, filling all bags,
Man, these gangsters seem all old!
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 4:54 PM UTC
My deceiving emotions, are leaving me bleeding,
so when I share them out, they come off sorta misleading.
I'm pleading that you understand, the things I am seeing in mind, in due time, I made you mine, so History was repeating.
I'm seeing this, getting a reading of sweet bliss,
I'm eating your chips, grabbing your hips, and kissing your lips.
I went from dropping the clips used for dropping off crips,
to shopping for gifts I buy.
I broke ties, with those I despise,
The ones who talk **** snort coke, and tell lies,
Sometimes I wonder why I was friends with those guys,
They meant nothing to me,
Nothing on my life,
Nothing on my conscience, but my sub-conscience is so wise.
I feel like a cat, I got something like 9 lives.
But what is the point when you can't even survive, the one you're living in.
I'm barely living, not giving a **** but giving one finger of five.
It's hard to hide, you are the light in my eyes, the moon in my sky.
When you're laying next to me, baby there's stars in your eyes.
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 2:34 PM UTC
Cease the red dragon im stabbin'
deep in ya heart
mount zion is where my destiny started
but now im parted
deep in the land of the lost loss souls
still tryna find themselves
through religions instituted by man
i don't take no for an answer infectin' like breast cancer
epidemic flows thermogenic
causin' instant sweat terrorist threats so they keep on the radar
like navy ships take short dips
bang on beats like bloods to crips
i go on and on like Gladys KNight and the pips
skip skip over critics wicked sadistic mystique
with the style i send comprehend
tryna find my way
back to Mount Zion but im blurred brain fryin'
from all the heat im catchin' to my intellect
break through the sweat it's war
we at the verge of a battle so girls stop movin' ya rattle
rode worlds saddle too long im stuck in the killin' fields
fightin' my way back to promise land with much contraband
haters trespassers will be hung
frontin' like friends but ain't down with Black Na-tion
it's the return of Mount Zion
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 12:28 PM UTC
life is like a flower
Planted into one spot never seem to leaves it way of life
Standing mighty and strong not letting any thing touch its graceful way of life.
Slowly others come into its world bringing the high brick wall to a burned crips and crumbling its spirit giving it no hope and lost it way for a point of living and loving.
The bright sun comes out from the under world and carries the hopeless flower to life blocking all the negative energy around its surroundings with a plastic bubble with love and support from the world who wants it to be living and happy no sadness the makes the rolling black could come in and **** your joy of life......
I am a plant stuck in one spot with others who care about are you going to reborn your self into becoming happy???
You choose your life nobody else may controlling your life you are you and only you may choose your path
Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 10:08 AM UTC
I am the consumer of a thousand worlds
And the mother of a thousand others
I have killed mothers, sons, fathers
Left whole nation's in Ash
I am the future, I am the past
You can never have enough
I am keeper of Crips.
Eater of bone
I'm the one who carves the mountain eyes
And burns the sky's
And overturns every lie
I'm the child's playground
Pure creative and
Of mass destruction
And when the ones who challenge say
I am alive I will survive
I have the power I have the hand
It is my hour at my feet you stand
for I am man I AM MAN
I gently whisper in their ear
Look behind
What you'll find
Can't keep me off your mind
For I have nature as my servant
Foe I flow the never ending serpent
But I have no need to remind
Of what I am, for I am TIME.
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 4:31 PM UTC
I envisioned these days so often,
fearful of the independence soon to come.
Repression has surpassed to grant this favor
of forgetful remembrance –
or perhaps my memory you’ve stripped as well.
Loneliness stalks even the proudest of prey,
probing the crevices stashed deep away
to betray the very promises endemic to your core.
Now do I savor the silence I once abhorred.
I lie and I listen to the serenity all around,
obscurities of the day whispering from my walls
as an auburn Cardinal serenades from outside.
The moon beckons me near, apologetic murmurs
of her needless façade from the past –
a revered box fan underwhelms the silence
and disperses my diffused Siberian fir,
crips notes of pine and aromatic wintergreen
to soothe the comfort of my nightly routine.
Now do I know myself more than ever before.
Apr 18, 2024
Apr 18, 2024 at 1:40 AM UTC
a mouthful of novels
casting evasive statements
another changing feeling
an eluding ghost,
one's written pages
colliding with sentences
clashing against
of other's capsizing
paragraphs and phases
binding in and out
from another shelf,
another frayed spine
fading yellow pages
or crips, clean textures
thinking that we write
our novels alone,
my dear, how impossible
to finish such sublime material
--our own novels--
with nothing but
our syllables
what will fuel
your words,
what will lend
the structure to cover,
the world is teetering
of rippling acceleration
and moments of
seething hesitation
we all end as
books on a shelf
just make sure
your's is willing
to tell
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 11:49 AM UTC
i still make an effort to take a
picture sitting on the back of the bronze
pig outside the pike place fish
market every time i'm in the big
city. not many people know this
but that pig has a name; rachel,
and she's seen more things than
most people in this ol' world.
break-up blows, make-up kisses,
the man walking alone at 1:30 AM without
a coat and gore-tex in the midst of a wet
winter ****** binge.
the new kid, the east coast kid
starting his jewelry biz in '86,
and kurt after he put washington state
on the map - knowing better
than anyone that fame made him
sick. the east coast kid's curly haired
3 month old daughter in august '98,
the 15 year old boy's face after his
chinese fake id scanned,
the invasion of the bloods,
the invasion of the crips,
the tear gas burning the corneas
of our eyes when we tried to
protest.
everyone else disappeared into
the atmosphere,
but she stayed.
and i have no doubt that
rachel, the bronze pig
that's stood in the same spot
at pike place market for
31 years
has got a soul
in there somewhere.
-z. vega
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 8:30 PM UTC
who is alive thinks:
-sunlight
-dull air
riven with
rose smell;
perchance which
the rain with
mingles.
(autumn is near
her dress is fine
her hair is long
and serious,
it throws over
the mountains
and is alive
with crips dampness)
the bed is smooth and deep.
it pulls deeply,
and arms wonder for dreams.
to be dreaming
in the fine arms of autumn;
whose dress is nice
and whose dull serious hair
is
riven
with
rose
smell.
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 9:37 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Was it a messiah, you sought to find?
Then Homie was, your paradigm
As it was written, so it was
Our Creator doesn’t make duds
Like Noah sent here
For the floods
So was Homie
For the Crips and Bloods
So think of him, not as dead
Get that notion out your head
Based upon the life he led
And the words of comfort said
He’s merely resting in his bed
See to the manor he was born
The good he left us will live on
Long after Homie is gone
He believed in law and order
As his time was growing shorter
Much like a lamb taken to slaughter
No Homie didn’t walk on water
But he loved his son,
And daughter
I hope they learned
From all he taught ‘em
When his story is finally told
Just like Jesus, he was bold
And if per chance,
You’re still not sold
The retelling doesn’t get old
The way he left us
Was also cold
And both their lives broke the mold
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019. All rights reserved.
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 6:35 AM UTC
You left around ‘06
And the wall called my guard is still up with these old bricks
I’m scared to tell a girl their heart is in good hands with me but my emotions in theirs is too slippery they won’t be able to get good grips
I feel more blue than red nowadays I feel like my affiliation belongs to the crips
Hennessy been looking better and better these past couple of days she might get these elite licks
She took my pain away after a few sips
Sike I’ll never fall for these plain Jane girls like French tips
You’d be surprised I’m 20 and haven’t fell for a hoes tricks
You can thank my mother and sisters for the guidance
Thinking you’d come back used to be a big hope in my mind that occurred in wide stints
But before I turn 20 I just wanna say I’m not mad at how your absence made me a hollow man
I’ll never know a mans love so when I tell my future kids that I love them I hope I can get them to understand
I’ll be the embarrassing dad just because I want them to know I’ll forever be apart of their life
I’ve dealt with that sharp pain of wondering if my life would’ve turned out better if you stayed in mine
So I’ll never want my kids to feel the pain of that knife
Again sorry for the long voicemail
Just some last minute thoughts before I turn 20
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 11:26 PM UTC
Now I’m ALLERGIC To NUTS...
By This I Mean PEANUTS... !!!
But The Nuts I'm Speaking Of...
... In THIS Poems GUT... !!!
DON’T Reach My Stomach... !!!
It’s These Modern Day CHUMPS...
That I’m...... ALLERGIC Too... !!!
Because Their Nutty Views...
Tend To Lead To ABUSE... !!!!!
Because Their Nuts... BLATANT...
Are At The WRONG Station... !?!
And Are Wound TOO TIGHT...
So Contort Their Minds... !!!
From Religious Nuts... !!!
To New Gender Nuts... !?!
To Young Violent Nuts... !!!
And The Type of Nuts...
Whose ****** Stunts...
When It Comes To Children...
Should Have Their Nuts …
… NEUTERED... !!!
We’ve Got Conspiracy Nuts...
Scientific Nuts, Technological Nuts...
Who Now Want... ROBOTS...
To Be Their... COMPANIONS... ?!?
I Mean... Isn’t That NUTS...
... Or Is That Just ME... ?!?
Some People Say I’M NUTS...
When They Read My Poetry... !?!
Cos They DON’T Use Their Nuts... !!!
Or That’s Right I Mean Their HEADS... !!!
Unless Their ***** Gets Some...
Until Their Nut Gets To BUST... !!!
Now It’s True That I...
Go... LYRICALLY NUTS...
When I Write This Stuff... !!!
But NOT Like The Mugs...
Who Choose To Run Their Gums...
Be TRYING To CLAIM...
... Goes With My Name... ?!?
Or The Way That My Brain...
Creates This Wordplay...
I Guess It’s NUTS To Say...
That Wordplay Bearing...
The Big Virge Name...
Is Worthy of Declaring...
To Be Verse That's... GREAT... ?!?
Well That’s OKAY...
Because A Lot Humans...
Seem To Have NUTTY Tastes...
That I’m..... ALLERGIC To... !!!
Because I’m From A Pool...
of Talent That’s COOL...
That’s NOT For Fools...
Or That’s Right For... NUTS... !!!
Whose Gums Enlist...
Passive Aggressive...
Moves That STINK... !!!
Like... NUTTY PIGS...
Who Carry... BADGES... !!!
I’m NUTTY Like THIS...
When It Comes To Scripts...
That I’m QUICK To FLIP...
Like... Dancing CRIPS...
Who See Some BLOODS...
And Then Start To Act NUTS... !!!
And Then Let Blood RUN...
When They Pull Out Their GUNS... !!!
It’s A WORLD of NUTS...
When It Comes To VIOLENCE... !!!
Heads of Governments...
And People Who Judge...
With WRONGFUL BIAS...... !!!
Like These... RACIST NUTS... !!!
Whose IGNORANCE...
Has Spread In Humans...
Just Like This Virus...
That Continues To SHUT...
Mouths And Businesses Up... !!!
Which May Be Why...
I’ve Had To Write These Lines...
Because of Minds...
Being Locked Inside...
Now Acting WILD... !?!
When They Go Outside...
Or When They Go Online...
Who Write IGNORANT Stuff...
That Starts To... EXPOSE...
That They’ve Got PROBLEMS... !!!
That Cause ME To Have...
ALLERGIC REACTIONS...
Because What They INDULGE...
Is Behaving Like......
... Attention Seeking...
.......... “ NUTS “........
Jul 29, 2021
Jul 29, 2021 at 11:31 PM UTC
Now I Be Putting In Work...
When It Comes To My Verse...
But UNLIKE THE CRIPS...
My Bullets Are WORDS... !!!
So Require NO HEARSE... !!!
Because They’re Well Observed...
To Leave A Fool... SERVED... !!!
Now I’m NO Violent Kid... !!!
But What I KNOW IS THIS... !!!
You’d BEST RESPECT Them Crips... !!!
SUCKERS KNOW WHAT IT IS... !!!
While My Gang Now Enlists...
NO MORE Than Twenty Six... !!!
REAL VERSATILE Members... !!!
That’s Right They Are LETTERS...
That YES... Wage Vendettas...
MORE VICIOUS Than... “ V “... !!!
So DISMISSES... Lizards...
And These... Politicians...
Who Choose NOT To Listen...
To THIS V’s... Poetry... ?!?
That RIGHT Cos' BIG VIRGE...
Puts In... SERIOUS Work... !!!
When It Comes To Composing...
Word Flows STRONG Like OCEANS...
That Create ... HIGH SEAS... !!!
Where... Sea GIANTS Be... !!!
I’m A Black Shark That Wails...
With Rhyme Verse ... SONIC SEE... !!!
NO HEDGEHOG...
Just... DEEP LOGS...
of... Vocally FREE...
Opinions That Reach...
Levels... WAY BEYOND Treble...
When They're Heard SONICALLY... !!!
DON’T You See I LINK Themes... ?!?!
Through Connections Investing...
In Knowledge That Feeds...
OFF of... Natural Vibes...
So Are NOT Things Contrived...
Like... New World Policies... !!!
I Mean Really . . . . . . SIX FEET . . . . . . ?!?
It’s A SHAME That Police...
Stand TOO CLOSE To My Peeps...
And CONTINUE To FEED...
Off of BLACK TRAGEDIES... !!!
I’m A DANGEROUS Breed... !!!
Whose Freedom of Speech...
DOESN’T Work Qualities...
Where My Work Can Receive...
PRAISE For It's REALNESS...
And YES... HONESTY... !!!
So... STAND Next To The V...
Are You Folks Kidding Me... ?!?
When My Mind Runs So FREE...
That My EGO Can Seem...
To Be... BEYOND BELIEF... ?!?
Cos' My Works DISRESPECTED...
By Those In... "COLLECTIVES"... !!!
Who... CLAIM To BELIEVE...
In The BEST Artistry... !?!
Being What They Should Feed...
To The Masses Who Need...
To Receive What's REAL... !?!
When Their Creative Themes...
STINK Like Faeces of FLEES... !!!
NO... CORONA Disease...
Just WEAK Artistry... !!!
So My Work DOES NOT Serve...
To Support Industries... !!!
Or These Government Chiefs...
Whose Work Has CLEARLY...
Brought People Who LEAD...
... To **** HUMANITY... !?!
Because of DENIAL...
of Humans Living... FREELY... ?!?
Folks They...
... NEED To STAND TRIAL...
Cos Their Work Now Feeds...
... Modern SLAVERY... !!!
And New TECHNOLOGY...
That Moves SO QUICKLY...
That It’s Now HARD To See...
A Future Where Humans...
Aren’t Replaced By Machines... !!!
But One Thing They WON'T Do...
Is Do Work Like... BIG V...
And Write DEEP Poetry...
That Has A... HUMAN FEEL... !!!
And Wordplay That's COOL...
And Smooth Like A Groove...
FILLED With PURE ARTISTRY... !!!
That Does NOT Require...
Any Robots Or Wires...
Or... Internet Feeds... !!!
Just Wordplay That FIRES....
BULLETS Like Those CRIPS... !!!
That DISTURB Peoples NERVES... !!!
But... NOT Like My Fellas...
My Lettered Gang Members...
Who FOLLOW BIG VIRGE... !!!
So Be....
.... “ Putting In Work ! “....
Dec 17, 2020
Dec 17, 2020 at 10:51 PM UTC
Count the doves in the 7pm pink,nostalgic sky
Watch them blend in harmony with tricoloured flags
As crips yellow leaves fall in the backdrop
As faint chimes heard from a distant
Worship at dawn, spew venom at dusk
Our brains preserved in jars, our hearts kept on shelves
Hostages to pale white buildings are we not
Decoding the labryinth that ends at the halo
A sip of whiskey to regain my conciousness
A drop of blood to blind myself back again
Anxiously search for the poisoned apple
Disguising itself in the shine of its benevolence
The smell of incense and ashes embrace my body yet haunts my soul
Amplifying my thoughts provoked by your blood and meat
My picnic basket holds my fears and not your blessings
At least for an evening, let me escape
At least for a night, let me liberate myself from being your child.
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 9:38 PM UTC
They say time heals, yet the people left behind still feel the burden of the emptiness, no matter the time. Memories scorch us like the fire blazing sun engulfs the world.
The days grow shorter yet the nights are still long. Laying there dreaming about what was, what could have been, for a life so misguided, My heart aches, a home sick feeling consumes me, I miss the days when things were simple, life was a straight road, filled with blissful summer days and cool crips nights.
Sitting side by side, appreciating the silence that Now haunts me. Companionship that was always satisfying, reliable, and no matter the time in between, always a constant. A piece of my heart will always be broken, sadden by the lost of your life.
Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 4:31 PM UTC
Strange, when it is said?
It doesn't ring highly of fear to anyone.
It hardly threatens anyone but their own race.
History points out they barely can stand up to their own.
They conditioned to sit and watch.
Say black rage?
And you instantly hear the ringing.
DIFFERENT MESSAGE, DIFFERENT THEME.
And many within don't stand up to their own.
Many stand behind the church mantle preaching from the podium about love.
And the Crips-Bloods, Vice gangs and others rage on.
Now, in society, we know of folks adapted to hear no evil and see no evil.
And advise you about not creating trouble.
So what is it?
When you hear White Power?
When the strength is within the people.
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 9:15 AM UTC