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lize kingston Sep 2013
Battle of the two Giants
High noon announced the duel of the giants
Poetry and Hip Hop gunslinging the date was set
One accused the other of ****** the verbal world
As poetry sighted the words of Poe, hip hop did hurl
"Cant you rock these lame %$# words in slow
That dumb %&# Raven needs to be defeathered bro"
Poetry stood back and shook his hands down low
Reaching for his quilt using hip hop as ink he wrote
"The sound of silence is gold when you release your soul,
I need to feel the heartbeat of man so go!"
Hip hop now breakdancing on the floor
Laughed at this poor attempt to show poetrys gold
"You call that soul? I see it as a blind man,
Using fancy words to hide your fears so grand"
As poetry began to write another line
12:00 o clock came up as the sun did shine
Both stood back to back drawing their weapons
As the countdown to the duel approached like a new son
3 steps forward both rhymers turned about face
Two bangs later the smoke cleared both were embraced
The two giants knelt to ground their hearts did bleed
This time not of words but of blood so clean
At the same time both died as they killed each other
Why not write about how we are killing one another
Black vs White, hip hop vs poetry
Same old siht but this time its affecting me
Viseract Aug 2016
There were times in my life
Where I was satisfied with the world
Now it’s different
Because all it seems to give me is hurt

A void in my chest,
Filled with nothing but emptiness
The same sensation I feel when I’m asleep
Or when I try to rest

It’s hard feeling positive when this life’s against you
It seems all it wants to do is grind you up, best you
Bless you,
You’re probably far better off
Got the dreams and inspiration that keeps you going and you can’t stop

So don’t
Don’t ever lose your faith
Because when you do you start to question
Your position in the human race

What am I good for,
Am I just for entertainment?
If that’s so, then why the
Element of overwhelming sadness?

I’m not scared, in fact,
Far from it
But it’s just sometimes I struggle
To cope with this ****

I deal with it alone
Gunslinging my way through
Drawing pistols, shots firing
Not enough bullets and I’m *******

I tried pistol-whipping my problems
But I couldn’t
If you’re down on your defenses then
You probably shouldn’t

Call for backup and extra munition
Do it quick and do it soon
Because I left it far too late
And sometimes I feel like I’m doomed

I hate feeling so down
But it’s all I have, a shroud around
Someone who questionably doesn’t deserve
To feel a pain so hard, to be quite so hurt

To feel this **** mad, or to be this **** sad
Is the one consistent thing in life that I’ve ever had
It makes me stop at times, and question my existence
But if this happens to you, shrug it off, be strong in your persistence


Talking helps to solve things
It helps to make me feel pure
It makes me feel good then
Doesn’t last long, it’s no cure

I do try to make it work,
But negativity puts in twice the effort
I was never positive to begin with
So I get twice the hurt

Sadness I can deal with
Because I can make it fade
All I need is a good song
On a cloudy, rainy day

I sing along to sad tunes
And let myself cry it all out
Afterwards I feel a bit better
And my eyes are in drought

So I go outside and smack my bag
The punching bag I have
I like to picture hated faces
When I’m feeling mad

I frame them for my anger
Because they made me go deeply through
And I hate being mad, I’d rather be sad
Is it the same for you?

I called out for help, took half a year to get
But better late than never whenever I feel really upset
I just write a little rhyme, a crazy song a bit like this
It helps at times when I look back and strongly reminisce

Other times it makes it worse, some things you should forget
And when I look back on them I drown in my regret
Some things I should’ve said, others maybe not
But at least I’m not like my other friends who blaze it away with ***

****, where’d that come from?
A well deep down that holds all the **** in this world that I know is wrong?
Sometimes I think that maybe I’m floating at the top
But my psychologist doesn’t agree, whenever I say that she makes me stop

It’s only a voice called Nightmare, my persistent inner critic
Who criticizes my every move, likes to make me feel like ****
He feeds off it, an inner demon set to self-destruct
Telling me everything I do is wrong, that it’s not just the world that’s ******

And I listen, but why should I?
When he asks me to Google tying nooses so I can just ******* die
And it’s only because, sometimes I feel I want to
But don’t listen to these voices, don’t want this to happen to you

I wanna write a goodbye letter sometime, just to have it there
Because if there’s something that makes me scared it’s seeing a loved one’s tear
So if I’m not there, perhaps it’ll make me feel better
I get told I can’t die, but never say never

Humanity has mortality and a lack of morality
Perhaps we all crazy too, a little lack of sanity
But just know, no matter what happens it’s reality
And you should always see the best in whatever is happening

I know I can’t, or at least I can’t yet
Those things I mentioned before, that drown me in regret?
That’s a part of my world, a part of my experience
**** it, what I’m saying is this **** is our existence

I hate feeling so down
But it’s all I have, a shroud around
Someone who questionably doesn’t deserve
To feel a pain so hard, to be quite so hurt

To feel this **** mad, or to be this **** sad
Is the one consistent thing in life that I’ve ever had
It makes me stop at times, and question my existence
But if this happens to you, shrug it off, be strong in your persistence


I hate my Dad sometimes, he makes me really ******
He has PTSD, takes it out on me and gets away with it
I mean, my step mum moved out, she saw it happen clearly
Did anybody stop and take time to perhaps think of me?

No? Just another waste of time?
A bad investment, a depression that took form and left its basement?
**** it all, I never helped anyone
That’s Nightmare for you, I listen to him when I write songs

He gives me inspiration in a way I guess I feed off him
But it can be difficult sometimes, to let him loose because he slips
Up and takes me down, ironically it’s why I’m writing now
To show you all that if you hear him, don’t listen to the sound

Of a desperate voice in desperate times, let him just die
Don’t even try to talk to him, give up let him cry
Don’t feel bad afterwards, it isn’t ******
It’s survival of the fittest  and he’ll eventually wanna hurt her

You got a special someone don’t you? He wants their soul
He will play any card to get a chance to devour them whole
So don’t stop, keep your dreams
And let those pesky Nightmares slip by unseen

I hate feeling so down
But it’s all I have, a shroud around
Someone who questionably doesn’t deserve
To feel a pain so hard, to be quite so hurt

To feel this **** mad, or to be this **** sad
Is the one consistent thing in life that I’ve ever had
It makes me stop at times, and question my existence
But if this happens to you, shrug it off, be strong in your persistence



It may make you stop at times, and question your existence
But if this should happen to you, move along, be strong in your persistence

*Where I can't
a rather lengthy poem, I know. word count: 1,186. If you read all of this, I hope you take something from it
Viseract Apr 2019
There were times in my life
Where I was satisfied with the world
Now it’s different
Because all it seems to give me is hurt

A void in my chest,
Filled with nothing but emptiness
The same sensation I feel when I’m asleep
Or when I try to rest

It’s hard feeling positive when this life’s against you
It seems all it wants to do is grind you up, best you, bless you,
You’re probably far better off
Got the dreams and inspiration that keep you going and you can’t stop

So don’t
Don’t ever lose your faith
Because when you do you start to question
Your position in the human race

What am I good for,
Am I just for entertainment?
If that’s so, then why the
Element of overwhelming sadness?

I’m not scared, in fact,
Far from it
But it’s just sometimes I struggle
To cope with this ****

I deal with it alone
Gunslinging my way through
Drawing pistols, shots firing
Not enough bullets and I’m *******

I tried pistol-whipping my problems
But I couldn’t
If you’re down on your defenses then
You probably shouldn’t

Call for backup and extra munition
Do it quick and do it soon
Because I left it far too late
And sometimes I feel like I’m doomed

I hate feeling so down
But it’s all I have, a shroud around
Someone who questionably doesn’t deserve
To feel a pain so hard, to be quite so hurt

To feel this **** mad, or to be this **** sad
Is the one consistent thing in life that I’ve ever had
It makes me stop at times, and question my existence
But if this happens to you, shrug it off, be strong in your persistence

Talking helps to solve things
It helps to make me feel pure
It makes me feel good then
Doesn’t last long, it’s no cure

I do try to make it work,
But negativity puts in twice the effort
I was never positive to begin with
So I get twice the hurt

Sadness I can deal with
Because I can make it fade
All I need is a good song
On a cloudy, rainy day

I sing along to sad tunes
And let myself cry it all out
Afterwards I feel a bit better
And my eyes are in drought

So I go outside and smack my bag
The punching bag I have
I like to picture hated faces
When I’m feeling mad

I frame them for my anger
Because they made me go deeply through
And I hate being mad, I’d rather be sad
Is it the same for you?

I called out for help, took half a year to get
But better late than never whenever I feel really upset
I just write a little rhyme, a crazy song a bit like this
It helps at times when I look back and strongly reminisce

Other times it makes it worse, some things you should forget
And when I look back on them I drown in my regret
Some things I should’ve said, others maybe not
But at least I’m not like my other friends who blaze it away with ***

****, where’d that come from?
A well deep down that holds all the **** in this world that I know is wrong?
Sometimes I think that maybe I’m floating at the top
But my psychologist doesn’t agree, whenever I say that she makes me stop

It’s only a voice called Nightmare, my persistent inner critic
Who criticizes my every move, likes to make me feel like ****
He feeds off it, an inner demon set to self-destruct
Telling me everything I do is wrong, that it’s not just the world that’s ******

And I listen, but why should I?
When he asks me to Google tying nooses so I can just ******* die
And it’s only because, sometimes I feel I want to
But don’t listen to these voices, don’t want this to happen to you

I wanna write a goodbye letter sometime, just to have it there
Because if there’s something that makes me scared it’s seeing a loved one’s tear
So if I’m not there, perhaps it’ll make me feel better
I get told I can’t die, but never say never

Humanity has mortality and a lack of morality
Perhaps we all crazy too, insufficient in sanity
But just know, no matter what happens to us all it’s still reality
And you should always see the best in whatever is happening

I know I can’t, or at least I can’t yet
Those things I mentioned before, that drown me in regret?
That’s a part of my world, a part of my experience
**** it, what I’m saying is this **** is our existence

I hate feeling so down
But it’s all I have, a shroud around
Someone who questionably doesn’t deserve
To feel a pain so hard, to be quite so hurt

To feel this **** mad, or to be this **** sad
Is the one consistent thing in life that I’ve ever had
It makes me stop at times, and question my existence
But if this happens to you, shrug it off, be strong in your persistence

I hate my Dad sometimes, he makes me really ******
He has PTSD, takes it out on me and gets away with it
I mean, my step mum moved out, she saw it happen clearly
Did anybody stop and take time to perhaps think of me?

No? Just another waste of time?
A bad investment, a depression that took form and left its basement?
**** it all, I never helped anyone
That’s Nightmare for you, I listen to him when I write songs

He gives me inspiration in a way I guess I feed off him
But it can be difficult sometimes, to let him loose because he slips
Up and takes me down, ironically it’s why I’m writing now
To show you all that if you hear him, don’t listen to the sound

Of a desperate voice in desperate times, let him just die
Don’t even try to talk to him, give up let him cry
Don’t feel bad afterwards, it isn’t ******
It’s survival of the fittest and he’ll eventually wanna hurt her

You got a special someone don’t you? He wants their soul
He will play any card to get a chance to devour them whole
So don’t stop, keep your dreams
And let those pesky Nightmares slip by unseen

I hate feeling so down
But it’s all I have, a shroud around
Someone who questionably doesn’t deserve
To feel a pain so hard, to be quite so hurt

To feel this **** mad, or to be this **** sad
Is the one consistent thing in life that I’ve ever had
It makes me stop at times, and question my existence
But if this happens to you, shrug it off, be strong in your persistence

It may make you stop at times, and question your existence
But if this should happen to you, move along, be strong in your persistence

Where I can't
wrote this back in high school, for an album I wanted to make called Unlucky 8
Styles 12 Sep 2017
Raw in the wound
black crows circling

pink morning clouds
rays of the Sun
gunslinging through them

coarse in the muscles
twisting into complex sailor knots

steel beams falling down in Michael Douglas eyes.

Scorched in the wound
all outlets blocked

pink morning clouds
writing her name

explosions of cry
screeching in flight.

All my dreams
melting air

shackled wings
  refuse to stop

all my feathers
stabbing Sun.

Nothing is as it seems.
A welcome reprieve
     against blistering hazy,
     hot and humid
     meteorological suffocating air
found me voluntarily
     hermetically sealing myself
     within a climate controlled
     one bedroom apartment

     this Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
     (actually originally Lake
     Woebegone) transplant
     getting acclimated to the
     summer weather in Zaire,
this country determined, sans
     while "blindfolded," directed,
     and guided while seated

     in my state of the art bedchair,
hence such chance decision,
     where yours truly,
     would spend the following year
gunslinging, fellow
     shipping, and engaging
     with bountiful mutineers
     while piloting corsair

outlandishly ludicrous, incredibly
     flimsy, and carelessly
     held together by wirehair
with an equally
     ratty motley crue
     forcing yours truly
     to "FAKE" being debonair,
this (Baritone Horn playing)

     privateer did veer
really did  mark hood
     lee did quickly
     twain tubby chief engineer
accomplishing (as
     resident poetic web stir)
     re: alias Muddy
     Waters ("Roger") unclear

breathing sigh of relief,
      I did not go over with
     my trademark mind boggling flair
to sow confusion
     within the mindscape
     of one or more readers
     will cause him/
     her to go thermonuclear

ready to choke, gas, or throttle me
     as he/she doth glare
intimidating such prediction analogously
     like Moby **** reacting violently
     when Cap'n Ahab ****** a spear!

— The End —