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Amanda Stoddard Jul 2015
I got 99 problems but hip-hop ain't one.

"Poetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop
I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop straight off the block"
Nas and Jigga beef was the first I heard of drama in the music industry-
fueled me as a youngin' crowned from my brother's love of it.
Fast forward to when the radio put me on-
in the garage, on my mongoose
I heard someone spitting through the stereo
didn't pay much mind until a high-pitched voice rang through.
"Through the wire-"
no "through the fire?"
I couldn't understand but this dude started rhyming
and speaking through the speakers at me
my hair raised up and I knew this was love-
smile on my face at first listen
never really heard anything like it.
I thought back to the first song like that I heard-
"Life's a ***** and then you die-"
knew that line all too well
resonation in my bones didn't feel so much like a stranger-
my young self started spitting around the older crowd
they looked down and smiled-
a sense of admiration.
Hip-hop was my way in my ticket to acknowledgment.
Started listening to Eminem before I was even 10.
5th grade on the bus rides to and from field trips
"Shut the **** up guys I'm trying to listen"
headphones in, finally found someone to relate
so many thoughts of suicide being taken away-
realized the radio wasn't really my thing
too much pop and not enough soul
the words they sang were nothing to me.
In the beginning hip-hop was just a facade I liked to play
so other people would notice and think I'm pretty cool
but somewhere along the line it took me over
bumping nas, em and pac through my stereo
mom looking in my room like
"where the **** did my daughter go?
she's listening to this ****, she's gotta get a grip-"
But when I hurt the music would listen
bass lines and samples running through my veins
didn't know much about hip-hop
except the way it made me feel..
Technology came abrupt and the computer was my safe haven
the runaway from the abuse I was experiencing
mommy and daddy fighting?
headphones in so I can't hear it.
crying through each verse
and then the chorus hits and I'm better
finally realized I wasn't alone in this hell hole.
Started up a myspace-
more room for discovery
Eazy-e some Biggie more Nas
and **** even some Jeezy.
Every word they spoke
became something that was apart of me.
"Poetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop
I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop straight off the block."
Nas said it best-
old school rappers speaking to me before bed.
Then I discovered Cudi, more Kanye, andre 3k.  
thought about how I had to write like this
it was my destiny to manifest this passion
put it into my pen until I could learn to lavish
in the luxuries they could afford
not the riches but the rhyme schemes
and the way it helped me
again and again would listen until I got tired
notebooks full of rhymes
my life was on the line and it became wired
then came limewire and my mind blew up
there's an entire world of music I never knew-
download after download the music became me
so much more to go through
****** up my computer
virus to the hard drive
all my music's gone. ****.
Freaking out in my room at midnight
threw a chair, punched the wall
mom asking if i'm alright.
"*******, go away"
She thought the music was to blame
but without that **** is why it happened
never gave up on this **** called rappin'
wrote my first rhyme when I was in 5th grade
poetry turned to rhyme schemes
and samples I liked to play.
Passion turned to aggression
when everyone started spitting
thought this was me and no one elses
has to prove who I was to the masses.
High School came and I was
"The girl who rapped"
freestyle lunch sessions to secure it.
Voices from the crowd
"**** she murdered it".
Slipped up-
started on the pills
too many thoughts in my mind
too many demons to ****-
ran away from the hip-hop
turned that **** to heavy metal
pop-punk and punk rock.
Turned away my from my passion
and started writing poetry
stanzas, sibilance and sonnets
filled my insides.
I suffered without the classics
the dream began to fade away.
We moved-
became a recluse.
didn't eat for weeks
but this time money wasn't the issue.
Heard something bumpin' from the basement
my hair stood up when I heard that base hit
ran down like I was chasin' after my passion again
"what is this?"
my cousin laughed "Life Changes"
"who is it?"
"Wu-tang" he said to me
I bobbed my head and smiled once again
"Wu is indeed for the children"
he laughed and so did I.
Realized my love for hip-hop
would never actually die.
"Poetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop
I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop straight off the block"
hip-hop you saved my life.
i guess life is a crossing
and people keep passing

the lord made me black and white
with a light on either side

people keep passing, hippidy hop
they keep crossing, hippidy hop
and thats what happens on me all day long

people keep passing, hippidy hop
they keep crossing, hippidy hop
and then the cars come along

there are those who wait for the green man to show
the mom tells her kids 'thats only when you should go'

There are those who don't think a lot
'You could have died', 'it was worth a shot'

There are those who play in and out
Opportunists trying to move about

There are those who just have all the time
Testing nerves, begging the wheels to crime

people keep passing, hippidy hop
they keep crossing, hippidy hop
and thats what happens on me all day long

people keep passing, hippidy hop
they keep crossing, hippidy hop
and then the cars come along

people keep passing, hippidy hop
they keep crossing, hippidy hop
and thats what happens on me all day long
Godwin Prince Apr 2016
hip hop analogy

Contrary to scientific fiction
I spurned up amongst beast and colossal dysfunction
I breath the letters of an ancient god
Soar on his feathers
I continuously darned biological petters
I am hip hop
The hop of black; black magic, black myth, black revolution & black freet
If you ever need hip hop, get on your feet!

I let its magical combustion inflame the earth
Hip hop like a cultre for the dead
Dead to evil, dead predators & medieval
Hip hop on my chest like unfeed hunger
The hunger from Congo
And the turbulence from river limpopo
Show your hands if you believe in hip hop in total
I am the happy bunny.
I hop, and when I hop,
I laugh, and I squeak.
Squeak, Squeak, Squeak, I go!
My little bunny nose
Squinches to and fro.

I am the happy bunny.
I hop, and when I hop,
I am carefree, happy, and full of glee,
When I go hopping on my little tree!
Hop, Hop, Hop, I go! My little bunny legs
Leap to and fro.

I am the happy bunny.
I hop, and when I hop,
I see my master, as he looks at my cage
He smiles, and laughs when I wiggle my ears!
Wiggle, Wiggle, Wiggle, I go! My little bunny ears
Wriggle to and fro.

I love him, and he loves me, and he
Makes me the happiest bunny I could be.

i feel that easter is the best time of year,

you see we give eggs to all the kiddies

and we play easter egg finding games

and don’t forget Mr Chickadee will run right up

and catch 15 easter eggs and 27 chicken baskets

with a lot of syrup inside it

yeah, what about the chocolate

it is so tasty, as, i love it, you love it, we can all love it, woo

let’s party, let’s party, pop a few champagne corks

and when we finish we throw the bottle on the ground, glass shatters

and the people yell out a big ****

It’s hard to understand why do people eat chocolate at easter

i don’t understand why people suffer with weight gain at easter

i understand that easter is the most desirable time of the whole calendar year

hop hop goes the bunny

hop hop goes the bunny

yeah, mr bunny goes hop

hop hop goes the bunny

yeah mr bunny

the mighty bunny goes hop

you see there are so many people

who wish each other a very happy easter, *******

happy easter from the bunny

the bunny is extremely funny

ha ha ha, the mighty easter bunny is funny

Hop hop hop hide
         Hop stare,


He's gone,
         Hop hop,
                  hop hop, hunt!
AAron Roz May 2018
Music is loud or quiet.
Music is soft or heavy.
Music can have meaning or not.
Music can be nothing or everything.
Music is:
◾Art Punk
◾Alternative Rock
◾College Rock
◾Crossover Thrash (thx Kevin G)
◾Crust Punk (thx Haug)
◾Experimental Rock
◾Folk Punk
◾Goth / Gothic Rock
◾******* Punk
◾Hard Rock
◾Indie Rock
◾Lo-fi (hat tip to Ben Vee Bedlamite)
◾New Wave
◾Progressive Rock
◾Shoegaze (with thx to Jackie Herrera)
◾Steampunk (with thx to Christopher Schaeffer)

•Blues ◾Acoustic Blues
◾Chicago Blues
◾Classic Blues
◾Contemporary Blues
◾Country Blues
◾Delta Blues
◾Electric Blues
◾Ragtime Blues (cheers GFS)

•Children’s Music ◾Lullabies

•Classical ◾Avant-Garde
◾Chamber Music
◾Classical Crossover
◾Contemporary Classical (thx Julien Palliere)
◾Early Music
◾Expressionist (thx Mr. Palliere)
◾High Classical
◾Modern Composition
◾Romantic (early period)
◾Romantic (later period)
◾Wedding Music

•Comedy ◾Novelty
◾Standup Comedy
◾Vaudeville (cheers Ben Vee Bedlamite)

•Commercial (thank you Sheldon Reynolds) ◾Jingles
◾TV Themes

•Country ◾Alternative Country
◾Contemporary Bluegrass
◾Contemporary Country
◾Country Gospel
◾Country Pop (thanks Sarah Johnson)
◾***** Tonk
◾Outlaw Country
◾Traditional Bluegrass
◾Traditional Country
◾Urban Cowboy

•Dance (EDM – Electronic Dance Music – see Electronic below – with thx to Eric Shaffer-Whiting & Drew :-)) ◾Club / Club Dance (thx Luke Allfree)
◾Breakbeat / Breakstep
◾Brostep (cheers Tom Berckley)
◾Chillstep (thx Matt)
◾Deep House (cheers Venus Pang)
◾Electro House (thx Luke Allfree)
◾Future Garage (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Glitch Hop (cheers Tom Berckley)
◾Glitch Pop (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Grime (thx Ran’dom Haug / Matthew H)
◾Hard Dance
◾Hi-NRG / Eurodance
◾Horrorcore (thx Matt)
◾Jackin House (with thx to Jermaine Benjamin Dale Bruce)
◾Jungle / Drum’n’bass
◾Liquid Dub(thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Regstep (thanks to ‘Melia G)
◾Speedcore (cheers Matt)
◾Trap (thx Luke Allfree)

•Easy Listening ◾Bop

•Electronic ◾2-Step (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾8bit – aka 8-bit, Bitpop and Chiptune – (thx Marcel Borchert)
◾Bassline (thx Leon Oliver)
◾Chillwave(thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Chiptune (kudos to Dominik Landahl)
◾Crunk (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Drum & Bass (thx Luke Allfree)
◾Electro-swing (thank you Daniel Forthofer)
◾Electronic Rock
◾Hardstyle (kudos to Dominik Landahl)
◾Trip Hop (thank you Michael Tait Tafoya)

•French Pop
•German Folk
•German Pop
•Fitness & Workout
•Hip-Hop/Rap ◾Alternative Rap
◾***** South
◾East Coast Rap
◾Gangsta Rap
◾******* Rap
◾Latin Rap
◾Old School Rap
◾Turntablism (thank you Luke Allfree)
◾Underground Rap
◾West Coast Rap

•Holiday ◾Chanukah
◾Christmas: Children’s
◾Christmas: Classic
◾Christmas: Classical
◾Christmas: Comedy
◾Christmas: Jazz
◾Christmas: Modern
◾Christmas: Pop
◾Christmas: R&B
◾Christmas: Religious
◾Christmas: Rock
◾Holiday: Other

•Indie Pop
•Inspirational – Christian & Gospel ◾CCM
◾Christian Metal
◾Christian Pop
◾Christian Rap
◾Christian Rock
◾Classic Christian
◾Contemporary Gospel
◾Christian & Gospel
◾Praise & Worship
◾Qawwali (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Southern Gospel
◾Traditional Gospel

•Instrumental ◾March (Marching Band)

•J-Pop ◾J-Rock

•Jazz ◾Acid Jazz (with thx to Hunter Nelson)
◾Avant-Garde Jazz
◾Bebop (thx Mwinogo1)
◾Big Band
◾Blue Note (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Contemporary Jazz
◾Crossover Jazz
◾Ethio-jazz (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Gypsy Jazz (kudos to Mike Tait Tafoya)
◾Hard Bop
◾Latin Jazz
◾Mainstream Jazz
◾Smooth Jazz
◾Trad Jazz

•Latin ◾Alternativo & Rock Latino
◾Argentine tango (gracias P. Moth & Sandra Sanders)
◾Baladas y Boleros
◾Bossa Nova (with thx to Marcos José Sant’Anna Magalhães & Alex Ede for the reclassification)
◾Contemporary Latin
◾Cumbia (gracias Richard Kemp)
◾Flamenco / Spanish Flamenco (thank you Michael Tait Tafoya & Sandra Sanders)
◾Latin Jazz
◾Nuevo Flamenco (and again Michael Tafoya)
◾Pop Latino
◾Portuguese fado (and again Sandra Sanders)
◾Reggaeton y Hip-Hop
◾Regional Mexicano
◾Salsa y Tropical

•New Age ◾Environmental

•Pop ◾Adult Contemporary
◾Bubblegum Pop (thx Haug & John Maher)
◾Chamber Pop (thx Haug)
◾Dance Pop
◾Dream Pop (thx Haug)
◾Electro Pop (thx Haug)
◾Orchestral Pop (thx Haug)
◾Pop Punk (thx Makenzie)
◾Power Pop (thx Haug)
◾Soft Rock
◾Synthpop (thx Haug)
◾Teen Pop

•R&B/Soul ◾Contemporary R&B
◾Disco (not a top level genre Sheldon Reynolds!)
◾Doo ***
◾Modern Soul (Cheers Nik)
◾Northern Soul (Cheers Nik & John Maher)
◾Psychedelic Soul (thank you John Maher)
◾Quiet Storm
◾Soul Blues (Cheers Nik)
◾Southern Soul (Cheers Nik)

•Reggae ◾2-Tone (thx GFS)
◾Roots Reggae

•Rock ◾Acid Rock (with thanks to Alex Antonio)
◾Adult-Oriented Rock (thanks to John Maher)
◾Afro Punk
◾Adult Alternative
◾Alternative Rock (thx Caleb Browning)
◾American Trad Rock
◾Anatolian Rock
◾Arena Rock
◾Art Rock
◾British Invasion
◾**** Rock
◾Death Metal / Black Metal
◾Doom Metal (thx Kevin G)
◾Glam Rock
◾Gothic Metal (fits here Sam DeRenzis – thx)
◾Grind Core
◾Hair Metal
◾Hard Rock
◾Math Metal (cheers Kevin)
◾Math Rock (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Metal Core (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Noise Rock (genre – Japanoise – thx Dominik Landahl)
◾Jam Bands
◾Post Punk (thx Ben Vee Bedlamite)
◾Prog-Rock/Art Rock
◾Progressive Metal (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Rock & Roll
◾Rockabilly (it’s here Mark Murdock!)
◾Roots Rock
◾Southern Rock
◾Spazzcore (thx Haug)
◾Stoner Metal (duuuude)
◾Technical Death Metal (cheers Pierre)
◾Time Lord Rock (Trock) ~ (thanks to ‘Melia G)
◾Trash Metal (thanks to Pierre A)

•Singer/Songwriter ◾Alternative Folk
◾Contemporary Folk
◾Contemporary Singer/Songwriter
◾Indie Folk (with thanks to Andrew Barrett)
◾Love Song (Chanson – merci Marcel Borchert)
◾New Acoustic
◾Traditional Folk

•Soundtrack ◾Foreign Cinema
◾Movie Soundtrack (thanks Julien)
◾Original Score
◾TV Soundtrack

•Spoken Word
•Tex-Mex / Tejano (with thx to Israel Lopez) ◾Chicano
◾Conjunto Progressive
◾New Mex

•Vocal ◾A cappella (with kudos to Sheldon Reynolds)
◾Barbershop (with thx to Kelly Chism)
◾Doo-*** (with thx to Bradley Thompson)
◾Gregorian Chant (hat tip to Deborah Knight-Nikifortchuk)
◾Traditional Pop
◾Vocal Jazz
◾Vocal Pop

•World ◾Africa
◾Calypso (thx Gerald John)
◾Carnatic (Karnataka Sanghetha – thx Abhijith)
◾Celtic Folk
◾Contemporary Celtic
◾Coupé-décalé (thx Samy) – Congo
◾Dangdut (thank you Achmad Ivanny)
◾Drinking Songs
◾Drone (with thx to Robert Conrod)
◾Hindustani (thank you Abhijith)
◾Indian Ghazal (thank you Gitika Thakur)
◾Indian Pop
◾Japanese Pop
◾Mbalax (thank you Samy) – Senegal
◾Middle East
◾North America
◾Ode (thank you Sheldon Reynolds)
◾Piphat (cheers Samy B) – Thailand
◾Soca (thx Gerald John)
◾South Africa
◾South America
◾Traditional Celtic
martin Oct 2012
( To the tune of Jailhouse Rock )

Party night came to the hp site
Singing and dancing till late at night
Friends dropping by said count us in
Man you shoulda seen them poets swing
     Let's rock
     Everybody let's rock
     They all got together in a flock
     Rockin at the hp hop
Well I didn't know you played the saxophone
Frank Zappa Davis on the slide trombone
Along came Embers with a whole brass band
Man that thing was getting out of hand
       Let's rock
       Everybody let's rock
       We were rockin and we couldn't stop
        Boppin at the hp hop
Music getting louder as the night wore on
Hands clap feet tap sing that song
Grab hold o' somethin just to play a tune
If you don't play the piano play the wooden spoon
          Let's rock
          Everybody let's rock
          We were givin it all we'd got
          Boppin at the hp hop
Someone made a speech, said we're all friends here
We all shed a happy little single tear
Then she said oh for goodness sakes
I love everybody in the whole **** place
            Let's rock
            Everybody let's rock
            Keep it up y'all don't stop
            Boppin at the hp hop
Shin Dec 2013
Hop frog hop, as you reach into the glade.
Look down upon your tadpoles, see them swim.
Look up and then, Oops! there goes the blade!
You were killed by the leisure of man's whim.

Sing bird sing, look up into the heavens.
Think not of the lonesome boy right below.
Look up into the sky, he jumps seventh.
Ignore petty men, fly where the wind blows.

I don't believe that eagles or frogs cry.
All they can do is give a weary sigh.
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
A flower that smells of pure bliss keeps an ear to the ground
It's a serene one sitting beneath the stars down on earth
The moon, far, far, seven seas away, loves to drop into her lap.

The Bay of Bengal billows, music has gotten beneath the skin.
The leaves furl out off the deep wood with the birds
singing out to the top of the trees, rhyming with the leafy dance.
Heavensent, that was in one sanguine day in the spring.
The Mother’s Language Movement in 1952 sprouted like this
on the eighth of native Falgun month—oh magic did it unleash!

On that day our beloved brothers were shot dead
They could swallow the bullets with smiles but won’t give up
demanding the official status for the Bangla mother tongue.
Angels wrapped round the martyrs amid lamenting mothers
Laid them on Falgun’s perfumed ground bleeding corpses
Seas of roses bloomed and blew them out red, red kisses!

They are gone not the stone wall of consciousness they raised
Ah, at the sprout of the spring what were they echoing?
Ingrained deep in the soil the pre-designing voice in the planning?
Who can tell? The world gels on February 21 in celebrating!

The angels then snapped up our martyrs’ souls off the land,
placed them on a piece of Heaven where they can hear the jingle.
Down on earth, a nation springs up, has gotten its wake up call!
Stepping on the sweetening arc of the mother tongue melody
the stone turns a flower, all in a butterfly moment soaring to victory.
Thanks to the movement - Bangladesh itself later comes to be!

The sun comes down to the rose painting on the land
In the heavenly Falgun hues it nibbles some wild summer dreams.
“Serene songs of earth stirring the water,” like it comes into play,
rowing the cloud bubbles singing in southern breeze.
Ah, a walk on the sun-kissed kaleidoscope land is a pure bliss.  
Every blossom spray of the wind is soothing sweet
Hop on and play straight to the ruby heart, as if it's a flute.

Mother tongue means speak free, fearless, in full streaming.
Speak the heart to the world without the fear of losing the cloud
that will listen, bouncing back on the brink of the sky river.
Then what did one say, hear, or was awed by in the blooming Falgun?
Could it have been the spring humming in her native lingua
or King David singing in mother tongue by babbling brooks
what in any other language, even with a silver tongue, isn’t possible?

Allah has listened to our martyrs’ crying mothers and fathers
The martyrs’ souls whisk through the galaxies and starry fair.

Soar high over the clouds, take the rainbow's *** of gold away,
Like a hue turns 360-degree in the colourwheel bask into the colour.
Still, dip the toes in Bangla mother’s soil salted with perfumed art
Like Himalayan water swirling down melting deeper deep down
This magicland is polished for everyone be it you, a fairy, a star
or off the ploughed-out barrow a walked out wonder!

A pristine voice duo’s voiceprint gleans to the spring in muse,
Pops in a beauteous scurry and speaks in the mother tongue!
Hidden within the earthy depth, only emerges with time,
only dances in tangent, that day slipped out with the butterflies.
And finally the blue nymphs take the plunge drop down the sky  
That day the mother’s voice triumphed, whose is the most original!
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
NY Hip Hop
Gold Express
Bling Shop
Afro Brothers

buyin and sellin
filthy lucre
of down hard
Gat packin
on the down low
throwin down
fallin hook
line and stinker

just a bunch
of lil fishies
wigglin at the end
of golden chains

its all about
the bling baby
all about the bling

"I pity the fool"
saith Mr. T
the potentate of
soul and gold
who ain't
down with
the cool jewels
of righteous
B Teamers
arrested by
the silk rope
of glitzy discos
bribing bouncers
with an
earnest Jackson
to *** rush
the vanity faire
of bumping
A Listers

Or was it
Def Jam
coin on

and ghost
face killas
slugging cases
of Kristol
fat spliff
up the *** of
Phat Farm
kids in
the hood
bullets at
the man
takin baths
in tubs
of fifties
lighting up
with crisp
C Notes
in black
its silver
twisting fast
being cool
went blind
Coolie High
still tip
a sip
for the
who ain't

its all about
the raised fist
of power to
the P Diddy
the power
of the people
as leggy
for the
of a
a cool
for a
New Years

Its all about
the bling

All about
the bling
baby, all
about the

NY Hip Hop
Gold Express
Best Prices in
Trenton Since

You Tube Video:
Gil Scott Heron
Ain't No Such Thing As Superman

Sa Sa Ra Nov 2012
The long ones and some go by planets,
I say stars the long forever change or at least I have found what I need inside to be free to be in accordance with what is on its way for us all!!! Little Birdy, CC3 or more like CC13, we say more like debris in the asteroid belt or some unusual comet-ry and or trajectories for everybody know where the common planets go but what of Sun, know we where is but what it can be temperamental too and more than tenuous more like strenuous relationship it is and has become overly clear; the things I know are not strange but strange it would seem what and how I do; so for you CC S1 I'll kick around a few; 15 billion year old universe nah big bang uh hu nah no too more as in Relative, I love that one Relative that Spot <3 On with where all is at, all very Relative things, every point, perspective, every sort of strange stringy strummy touchy feely sorts of things; more like where we are coming from and where we're going and what we can view but um me I may have been on those Mountaintops and with God for those Godly Many Mansion-ed Birds Eyed Views In and Out but it's more like; Newton spot spot right on again with Great POP on TOP, and the Greatest thing about that our imperishable spirits and how they remain in motion when the brain turns off, and the better to use here now information JC spoke about, yes the essence of 'The Book of the Dead' for our truer here now lives with the better more abundantly already overly willing for us blood bearing calling ourselves living and the coming of 'Messiah' and how such will be as we emerge together as well, sounds so common sensical to better use here now than abuse Gods already given gifts than abuse in simple little ways of not quite knowing or to much aware of too much else of other our own makings, for we are too easily sleepwalking about the things so overly close to too close to our too commonality of homes, identities and consciousness such the smaller part of all of this <3 <3; so I kinda just love that more Newtonian Motion the Right; and then like hop hop, hop scotch hop, nope again 123 nor abc not required; I like scrambles on rocks too, sounds nice for a day and two and then here and there again, still Sinatra does get over due and the I can handle the rarely scotch on ice for others they say rocks either, I there with sweetness of love and kindness, smiles; so can I see for mile and miles, what can it be more than 15 billion light year miles ya ha sure trillions I am I do; CIA triple walls even you, we all run what goes on in there by our hearts in an instant we command the greatest show of all in any instant changes everything and  all at once; EMC squared does not compare; speed of light those kinds of things here we are more manifestly condensed sort of things like vapor is to seas and or maybe then iced; we all can sing beat on drums understand the octave thing, well how 'bout keep it human scale and for a heart like thing what travels at the speed of light and what here say is all so manifest and then as sound will travel so we can hear those Church Bells ring well quite simply then is by the octave scales just 40 ya got 40 Octaves down!!!...speed of light got a limit um well can we get back to Relative again....I sat there with those types and I was not so good at study habits and everyone knew it and wondered how does he do it; I do have a poem in draft honestly, I can share the title here; some friends of Lite Heart had to hit first of all to explain a bit about it, with the nick-name moniker of Spot <3!!! So I'm calling this one Spot <3 's Spectrum Disorders; for I can roll around those wheels; I can be and have been destroyed many times over for knowing too much of heaven this one anyway had ta' gotta roll too through it's all Holy to me so I too say Holy Hell and then say cats got nothing on me but a bit more fur and perhaps some competition with um da purring!!!! Buddha too did name his boy 'Ball and Chain' but we are overly done way beyond this, we 'um ready for holy easy joy and fun...Food for bodies and souls overly abundantly easily had by seeing just quite simply what is within without our inner and locale commands; nope we done wit da' dey's; why destroy or well don't let me freak ya' I mean ice All of Love that Holy Responsive Ever seems so Light and slight of breeze and too with there go with all the power day dreary than dearer; don't be fooled by terminology, typical associations; idealized notions, 'Like the woes of Solomon' and 'Thee precious' ' Lord of the Rings', those are so close to some Sacred Cross Metaphysically so to say, no more here today, just sayin' maybe more another day; but back to typical association and terminology, I'll drop a link right here now this day and copy page, poem ya Sa Sa Ra called Dearly Departed and I know you too as barely started, me too hahaha please don't count me out here is where I love to be and see; ;
One more time and time again start what you so already know we need believe, put all the rest reorder with more loving commands truly they already do what you ask anyway uh dig again here hear again;

Sweet coolness to what burns us up and warms with love perhaps just 299 million drums contact staffs hoola hoops love joy sing a ringing better bells we are dancing fun could be catchy and be the one!!
Food for body and soul the best of all is freely available everywhere and we are free to see and be it there 8 days a week;
Welcome to the Eighth of days I am already and I am too seeing you all 7 billion there!! ♥ ♥ :) :) R!!!

And I'm gonna wrap this up and call it CC'Sister's...oh verbatim, raw straight hop rocks scotch and scrambles just for POP on TOP and another honorable mention to the CC'Sisters; and Sinatra will play on beyond what they are still calling will be our possible forever but more like JC when he said Heaven and Earth will pass away but my words never, so play play!!! <3 <3 :) :) !!!R!!!
What ya'd thank 'dat I'd be kiddin' you nah you knew better but you may have had hope somehow still!!! hahhaha!! Ty CC1!!! <3<3 :) :) R
PS: CC1 Alright already I by now did put a bit more into the stew but see understand how this family grew!!!

~~Just my ordinary way of waking up and reacting to the first thing I see a little bit of a stir in me that helps me feel with every ordinary humanly thing I have so much reflection upon within some must be cast out or i can't live and breathe within my own being here simply today was the help I had for the better part with my wake up cup whom are my family beyond all creation rocks waters wilds tree creatures great and small calling wooing ever be transcendent loving stewards of this place hereby we depend upon, seven billion all I see the ever present here now one generation family ever be; foremost first I see I know beauty first is all I understand all other detail too is telling the ever more love even more beyond a few castings of ever light spells or veils; I know thusly and nothing more or less~~ R

~this was what this poem was reaction to;

"Trusting God’s Timing
TODAY’S WORD from Joel and Victoria
In life, oftentimes we are waiting for something; waiting for a dream to come to pass, waiting to meet the right person, waiting for a problem to turn around. When things aren’t happening as fast as we would like, it’s easy to get frustrated. But you have to realize that the moment you prayed, God established a set time to bring the promise to pass.
God has a set time for your opportunity. There is a set time for that problem to turn around, a set time for your healing, your promotion, your breakthrough. It may be tomorrow, or next week, or five years from now. But when you understand the time has already been set, it takes all the pressure off. You won’t live worried, wondering when this is ever going to happen. You’ll relax and enjoy your life knowing that the promise has already been scheduled and your answer is on the way!
Father, I choose to trust in Your timing. I trust that You have my best in mind. I believe that You are working behind the scenes on my behalf. Thank You for ordering my steps and leading me in the life of blessing You have in store for me in Jesus’ name. Amen.

— Joel & Victoria Osteen"

~CC3 and or more like CC13, whom of her;

Oh but hell...
She made me
and so
I can laugh
...with a heartfelt filling and of the many hands of love and clay!!! Sentient waterings for joy in dust at play!!!
The title is a bit short but in the spirit of Oh but what the hell...and not to hell or hell it is. Therefor as with a hand in my creation with the spirit of God also I was touched by the outstretched hands that remind me I am made to laugh in the darkness of fear and so I did just that simply touche!!!
Cedric McClester May 2016
Tell me what’s become
Of the hip hop nation?
Have you heard
The latest allegations
Bam’s been caught
In some sticky situations
It’s becoming hard
To hold on to our patience

People scratch their heads
And ask who knew
Then wonder where this
All is headed to
Ask the young men
That he used to do
They’re coming out the woodwork
Wouldn’t you

Tell me what’s become
Of the hip hop nation?
Have you heard
The latest allegations
Bam’s been caught
In some sticky situations
It’s becoming hard
To hold on to our patience

Ain’t it crazy when a pioneer
Of the genre is someone to fear
But let me make it cogently crystal clear
These are allegations that we hear

Most of us are
Totally in shock
Not the brother
Who gave us Planet Rock
But be that as it may
That’s still the talk
Though his Zulu Nation
May still wanna bock

Tell me what’s become
Of the hip hop nation?
Have you heard
The latest allegations
Bam’s been caught
In some sticky situations
It’s becoming hard
To hold on to our patience

Unfortunately we’re left
With our doubt
The Statute of Limitations
Has run out
As alleged victims
Stomp then scream and shout
Where there’s smoke
There’s fire they all tout

Tell me what’s become
Of the hip hop nation?
Have you heard
The latest allegations
Bam’s been caught
In some sticky situations
It’s becoming hard
To hold on to my patience

Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2016.  All rights reserved.
RW Dennen Aug 2014
Watching night step-sitters staring at each passerby
abiding time as if counting sheep stepping with the city's cadence
Hearing sirens alarming in their BEWARE BLARING;
persistent fearfulness for evil and citizens securities
Staring-walking-bodies searching a barren land prostrating
before the great needle
Patched streets and decaying sidewalks by flooding night lights lay surreal

DECAYING fingers of poverty playing its fingers into every crack, crevice; into every pore, into every cell member
into one's whole being
Sounding the hip-hop generation street corners of hustlers
jiving away the night
The hustled and hustlers' overwhelming struggling for power; being surrounded by red brick and stone; being  incased in poverty

Pounding city hysteria;
at times laying silent in sleepless depth
by the waning gradualness;
anytime readying itself to ERUPT
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
MKF Jun 2014
He walks in, khakis cuffed
Nikes laced tight.
He says, "I know hip hop is dead
But Imma revive it tonight".
He picks up the mic
While they laugh cause he's white.
He pays no mind,
Just steps into the spotlight.
Their jaws drop
When he starts to spit
They've never seen his match,
He's on that real ****.
He ran out of rhymes, he's freestylin' now
And every syllable, like a puzzle piece, fits.
There's a smile on his face now,
He knows he's legit.
He drops the mic
And walks away,
Doesn't look back
Its more impactful that way.
Everyone just stares
They don't know what to say
All they know, deep inside,
Is hip hop was reborn that day.
For Austin
BoogzThePoet Oct 2018
Life’s a trip aint it?
Cause I can see myself there.
In the courtside of movement with my daughter
Teaching her the fundamentals to this foreplay break form we call top rocking
See, cause we all started while still in the fetus of knowledge,
dance was our way out
far sighted to the violence was most important
My neighbors enriched themselves a devil’s deal with other advocates
Sold their souls to hate,
Gun play, drugs, **** and discriminate……tion.
Since that first get down on my auntie’s wooden floors,
Or since seeing the smooth criminal himself steal the encore,
I became the Xerox copy,
mirroring my master like a parrot,
I studied more and observed a new culture.
Not even knowing this family was my narrative teen story.
I devoured every second.
Danced till my body couldn’t stand it.
I danced in the light and were steps away from my own shadows.
Sometimes the shadows were heavy
a filament that needs to be observed and cleansed--- go figure huh
A self-judgment clinging to aura.
A child crying who felt unloved.
A beings dependent on promises from Ones outside self.
Suddenly, light shines and the dancer feels the power--
A breath that aligns inside grace.
A moment where ones heart expands with love.
A moment where a dancer meets melody
Hip hip is a masterpiece,
hip-hop is you, me, him and her, and because of this masterpiece is a dancer inside of me.
His movements created mists around his company,
I didn't need to tell hip-hop I loved her.
I gave her all my love with this dance.
Emisen Nov 2014

You telling me to hope?

Hop! Hop!

Look at it go
One hop
Two hops

Hope is hopping away
and you tell me to hope?
Pen Lux Feb 2015
split my mind open,
hear me flip-flop
happily irritated
watching your
face break
heavy tears
you shake
you ache
so take
a break
and take
a breath

digging holes
taking pills
sliding down
fillin' hills
the chills
my thrills
no bills
countin' kills
ten fingers
smell lingers
hell bringers
not singers

give me that...
bring me there...

the troubles
my doubles
be bubbles
black moths
white veins
no money
hopping trains
you blame
the rain
for pain
to think
a drink
of water
taught her
brought her
to the edge
nothing left
to take


give me that...

split my mind open,
hear me flip-flop
happily irritated
watching your
face break
heavy tears
you shake
you ache
so take

a breath

give me that...
bring me there...  

we're going underground

your games
my flames
the names
we tame
the light
breaks night
we slide
we hide
so take
a breath


split my mind open,
hear me flip-flop
happily irritated
watching your
face break
heavy tears
you shake
you ache
so take

take me
bake me
shake the dirt
from my bones
no longer
got me
in a
choke hold
feeling bold
stories told
so grab
a hold
as we unfold

no longer bound
by fear
my dear
the present is clear
growing and sprouting

these are lyrics I wrote for a rap to some beats and the track name was "the heist"
pets are hours of fun, feathered finned and furry ones
pets are hours of fun, feathered finned and furry ones
their antics do amuse, owners love them to bits
their antics do amuse, owners love them to bits
owners love them to bits, feathered finned and furry ones
their antics do amuse, pets are hours of fun

**** playing with a skein of wool, Rufus chasing his tail
**** playing with a skein of wool, Rufus chasing his tail
their capers never fail to get a laugh, what a show he puts on
their capers never fail to get a laugh, what a show he puts on
what a show he puts on, Rufus chasing his tail
**** playing with a skein of wool, their capers never fail to get a laugh

behind the air filter goldfish dart, such a jovial spectacle
behind the air filter goldfish dart, such a jovial spectacle
budgerigar hop scotching on her perch, they're natural born entertainers
budgerigar hop scotching on her perch, they're natural born entertainers
budgerigar hop scotching on her perch, behind the air filter goldfish dart
such a jovial spectacle, they're natural born entertainers

they're natural born entertainers, feathered finned and furry ones
their antics do amuse, pets are hours of fun
budgerigar hop scotching on her perch, **** playing with a skein of wool
behind the air filter goldfish dart, Rufus chasing his tail
such a jovial spectacle, what a show they put on
their antics never fail to get a laugh, owners love them to bits
there was a little frog he had lost  his hop every time he moved all he did was stop
one day as he sat by his favourite pond along came a fairy with a magic wand
the frog began to tell her that he wasnt well dont worry said the fairy ill cast a magic spell
the fairy waved her wand until the spell was cast now the little frog could hop again at last
Internal parts spread out
Taken apart, way across
Hop-scotch blocks,
And little girls

Toes in each block
In time to a tune
Drums pock a beat
On the little child
Inside the watch

Icky-tickity, tock, tock
A tear from the eyes
Like a drip, faucet
Then over the falls
Niagara in a barrel

Time doesn't, not really
Exist to be selfish, always
Giving a bit more, another
Second turns in to a minute
By yourself, in a barrel

Going over the falls
And right at the edge
Toes over the top
Feet in the air
Head over heels

You look at your watch
Tickity, tickity-tock, tock
Hippity, hop, hop
Right over, toes in the box
With a roar, a tear

Coming together
Tears, not for pain
Like a band on a watch
Pinned to keep place
Just in case you fall

In love, hippity-hop
So when your feet reach
Touch the sky, tickity, top
You can check the time
So know how far you fall

Tickity, tippity-tip top
Check the wrist watch
Toes in the block
Skipping rope
Keeping time

All of the above
Inner chyld, tock, tock
Beautifully in time
Perfectly aligned
Inside your mind

Playing hopscotch
Little girls' games
Over the top
Clippity, tock
Tick, tock
Amanda Stoddard Jul 2015
I'm a rap game prodigy
irony like Socrates
that I could spit this philosophy
so flawlessly.
Unmatched like I'm scalene-
scaling my way to the top
so high like I'm a scaffolding
go ahead fold and scowl at me
and watch me cackle sarcastically-
while I tell the masses to become appealing
the apple of my eye is hip-hop do you feel me?
Massive attacks while the males become *****
and subject to the ways of misogyny
oh **** here we go again, this bothers me
what? equality?
Misuse the muse and move through your mind
makeshift mammals mimmicking media monkeys
no wonder half the world's a ******
like you when you see-
the way I spit so fluently
second language, feel the anguish
anger within me resentment
followed by residuals
the world is red and we're all cruel
consumed by corporate corruption
no function left to the fiction of fascism
so fasten your seat-belts and see me belt
way more than 16sixteens, it's sickening
how sick this flow can be so ambiguous
hip-hop is bigger than us-
it's luck, it's lust-
it's a ******* when there's a lack of trust-
it's ****, it's love
it's touch, it's ****
it's drugs and grudges
and beef and *******
it's empowerment, cowards
and records strictly to deflower.
it's appreciation and admiration
and it at one point shook the entire nation-
i'm complacent at the placement of this prophecy
that hip-hop has engrained into me
I'm grateful for the grandfather's
and the sons and the daughters
the step-fathers and mother *******
cut throat music industry
if you don't **** with hip-hop you don't **** with me.
Julius Nov 2013
i listen to Dubstep music and sip tea
i am the Post-Mark
Pondering Gender politics and finishing my tea
i am non violent, a pacifist
But don't put it past me that i won't clench a fist
With righteous grist
If you make me feel alone in my considerations temporarily

i'm not a weak soul am hardy folk
Hardly lost faith when i realised God was a joke
Like a big fat egg yolk splattered all over paper
Christmas hogging 3 months of calendar
A Consumerist campaign, but tell me i'm the miser

Police tend to pass me in the streets, i think smart
Skin colour ain't the first part
One of the mainly white audience at the Public Enemy show
The system as it stands fears me though
If you stop and searched my heart you'd **** me though

i Listen to Deep House and sip Lucozade
Lost deep in this house
i've never worked hard at a job
So **** lucky at birth to have wealth
But that's my parents money (and I'm not in any way responsible for slavery)
Kanye West with his Confederate Flag ****
"I'ts mine now, what you gonna do?"
Little did we know that we were the 'New Slaves'

Contemporary thinker, i read the game cover to cover
After all they taught me from birth how to study
i'm too uninterested in ticking boxes to earn money
To satisy the transferable skills that you want from me
I'll Enjoy a nights alcoholism instead of getting high and writing an essay

Am I getting too wordy?
i'm trying to spit now, can i? can I?
The gender politics on my mind at inappropriate times
i told the guy at the door i wasn't thinking about race
Most people are thinking about 'the race'
White Middle Class kid picked up a mic and tried to rap again...

I listen to Hip Hop and drink water
Hardly faded I'm perfectly sober
I'm energised naturally, words seem to strengthen me
I am the grassroots, I have been wrongly righted
My Parent's deserve this so want me to sit tight
But I'm jumping right into the middle of hip hop (and feminism)
And theres nothing you can do about it.
[For All My ****** and All My *******]
Not-So-Superman Jun 2015
Run run run, from the falling rain
seeking shelter from the struggle
seeking shelter from the strain.
Hop hop hop, across the empty streets,
running from the water's bellow,
running from the water's feats.
Gasp, gasp, gasp, as you see a yellow light
                  you let out a final sigh,
as your heart looses it's last fight.
Pain, pain, pain, your bones seem to cry
the tire tracks on your body,
the tire tracks where you lie,

Alas the rain drops have come to say goodbye
You are important to them.
They're here to watch you die.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2016
try gathering up the marbles with akua naru's the journey aflame, heidegger's ponderings ii - vi, and the sight of lost virginity in trees or at least their mortality to blossom reduced to skeleton... or lungs' alveoli.

there's an acute difference between hip-hop and rap...
hip-hop has the decency to acknowledge the sax...
sure the beat of rap is there: on-and-off,
but hip-hop has the table manners to spin
out a continuum from jazz, it has Darwinistic traits
to engage in a continuum...
rap is like rock when starting off from
scratch and not from pauper blues...
do you want words like kid, yeah,
   and other belittling babushka doll
verbiage? this is me, raw,
          god, the plight of constantly stating
authenticity... art and plagiarism
and that constant need to avoid the latter,
much claimed, much too little deviated from,
even on the altar of pains
from hernia (in my unconscious,
as a baby i had that: intestines out bulging),
acne beyond my teenage years: newspapers
say that it's dying out...
            my mother faked falling down
the stairs today...
               it's called bypassing the n.h.s. queue
off the medical bureaucrat that's the general
practitioner who chicken scratches prescription
and as all medical professionals: has
hands worthy of a butcher's, the only thing tangible
to the eyes as to the ear is the signature,
and that's everyone's Picasso moment.
         hip-hop? i can do drive-by shooting with
that ****, talk ******, talk:
      right now i'm surfing on concrete.
wait... orcs... what's female with that vinyl?
        niggerette? sure, Solomon swine talk
with Sheba from Ethiopia or wherever she was from.
  and the *ger
man said that cultural politics is
the last remembered barbarism...
           some learn english and turn to identity pride
as if they didn't come out of an ant's exoskeleton
stating the menu: all mushy cushiony inside, boyo.
   2011 and we're still ******* that torpedo
that's the chainsaw crazy bulletin of: haircuts you
shouldn't endorse.
            so she faked it, ****, we all know that women
always began lying and men told too many truths,
at least women got a monopoly on what's to come
in d.n.a. tattoos... men ******* into science rather
than fatherhood... gamble here, gamble there...
      this paramedic didn't look the part,
esp. when he started talking, he wanted to shed off
his official attire of paramedic green...
   my mother? the lowercase blood pressure too
high from acting,
                            i don't bother about mine,
i'm drinking while she's in the hospital wanting a
c.t.i. scan... selfish or selfless? i have no antidote
for death's dynamic this afternoon,
   i just wish i was given the precursor insight into
all of this fake... wait... that's really personal...
anyway, this paramedic really hid his inner,
he bred parrots prior to... bombshell: breeding
snakes... pythons 5ft long, 400 or so in his aquariums...
i don't know where exaggerations begin or end,
but i asked him: poor eyesight, snakes.
yep, he taught his serpents to gulp up dead rats,
apparently 25K a year...
apparently snouting out of the shell doesn't
equal pecking out of it... t-rex in the sky
flying high... plop... out comes a ****** for lizard
and mr. birdie...
                    that's one way to appreciate lacks
to what's mammalian and tapeworm,
   hence that desire in woman to 'take this **** out of me!
take this **** out of me!' i understand the panic
                (Prometheus movie style),
    out comes a lizard in an egg, out comes a crow
out from an egg, and here we are, stomach-to-stomach
connect: needless to say, after 9 months parasitically born:
i can understand the panic, it's like being *****
for 9 months and eating strange combinations of foods:
doughnuts and cucumbers...
           i really don't understand this religious
implant that there's a person behind a forming-foetus
when there's still the diaper to come,
the weak bladder and the weak **** not yet formed,
the baby teeth to fall out... all of these physical
foundations and only then, the thought,
     and then after many more years and exposure
to democracy: a debate concerning a soul...
           and of course your interaction with the ****
thing to mould the insides...
             well, that's one side of the tale...
we all know that the other if filled with
conformity, pleasantries and babyshowers: what's
the great mystery there?
   ****... all i wanted to say is that birds are neo-lizards,
where the foetus and the ****** plop out
       from the female, and all that's left to do is sit
on an armchair and **** into it...
                    even i concede the point about
things being too stressful and too weird...
               but that's also about finding your cool...
               and thankfully... akua naru's album is as good
as it had to be... thankfully i can apply the rule-of-thumb
usually reserved for prog-rock albums...
that's an hour of my attention ****, gone,
   the better part of a magic trick entrapped in realism...
hardly that thing we know today: 3 minutes snap!
    3 minutes snap!      breaking points for the top 40
chart successes... i count listening to an entire album
a success primo:
   (concerning my mother? something happened prior,
it was as authentic as was required to get past
n.h.s. bureaucracy) -
            people get so panicky these days,
and not a single islamic extremist in sight...
odd: i take it that mortality is worth being considered
a boiled egg being juggled among hot coal...
   well, hip-hop isn't rap for the sole reason: jazzmatazz.
Andrew Parker Dec 2013
jump, skip, hop, then POP!
August 2, 2011

So here's a playful tune
to make your body swoon.
Shake and bake those hips
pucker up and lick your lips.
Because tonight, we're dancing!

da lada dee da daaa laaa la laa ohhhh

I love the way you move like that
jumpin' 'n jivin', you're one cool kat.
So now we're getting down
laughing so much, are you a clown?
In our serene meadow, together, we're prancing!

Lemme catch you off guard, sweep you off your feet
this is the most romantic way I could think of for us to meet.
Now don't get me wrong, I mean I dress to impress
but girl, for you, I'd much rather wear less.
If you know what I mean, hiding my eyes glancing!

Excuse me mam, but I don't mean to be rude
or have you think my humor is too crude.
But for a special lady, lady, lady, oh so cute
I'll give it my my all, gotta take aim, then shoot.
Gotta get, gotta gotta, give you my all, all my romancing.

Boop boop be doop buh bahhh tra lalalahhh

Baby, so I've got you now forever maybe.
Squeeze you so freaking tight, 'till your soul leaves.
Enters my body and we intertwine, as it mentors.
Me and teaches how to be we.

koo koo cuh cahhh shoop doop la lahhh
Jump, Skip, Hop, then POP!
P Venugopal Jan 2016
Quiet, the bamboo grove—
from each drooping leaf-tip hangs
a drooping dewdrop...

The same footprints,
coming and going, coming and going,
along the long trek path,
changing shape,

Naked feet tapping down the steps,
I halt—the pond in dawn-chill haze...

Mynahs a dozen—
hop, hop, hop, pick...hop, hop, pick—
dewdrops on wet grass...

And in the visitor’s room,
the chair tilted at this angle,
I see,
reflected on the window pane,
the entire stretch of an empty corridor—

Surely, a great omen!
JS Clark Apr 2017
The gate is closed
I’m on the side of the locked in.
We have a sister, Hip Hop, and she’s dying;
To whom do we owe this sin?

Born in the late 70’s, the Bronx, the 1520,
She, in time, enamored a planet.
Tickling radios with her rhythms and rhymes--
She sends the mainstream into a panic.

But the mainstream is a blob,
Like the amoeba seeking to consume.
Stunned, at first, by my sister’s ribald glory,
It sought to place her in a commercial tomb.

We, the Underground, repel the popular--
The blob has locked tight this gate of the fresh.
Seekin’ to cheapen Hip Hop’s life valve,
Popularity is an Underground’s death.

Time was, Hip Hop was the ****.
Now, thanks to the blob, she’s nothin’ but.
Good news though, she’s not all dead,
Even now she’s being revived from a wholesale rut.

The streets are calling her back;
The Underground is stirring once more,
Our sister will breathe fresh again--
And render the blob forlorn.
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.
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.

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
I have mapped out for us in my head
I know you're great at that.
You can
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
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.
bleh Oct 2016
the kindergarden down the road
                                         had a revolt
            and the children insisted on self directing story-time

   two thirds in
     the hero abandoned their quest,
   turned into a bubble
   and evaporated

       the adults insisted a story needs a proper conclusion
                                                but they knew better

walk by

    light in the distance
bares at me

is it moving?
      it's not.
  it's gone now
    there it is again

there     gone
there     gone

a silence becoming
and a silent vacating

unnerving  comfort

    the skateboarders down the road
         chiseled all the letters out of the road signs
    till all the tourists were helplessly lost
          / excuse me,
          / sorry,
          / what way to the lookout?

              \ you're already at it
              \ just keep going

a wail
bares at me

a bird or a car siren?

too organic for a machine
too regular for life

never mind

head home

  the church groups down the road
                          formed an action committee,
                                                      ­      after the flood

                       even had some humanitarian in
                                                              ­ to give a slide show

     but the software was updating
                        so we ended up watching the loading bar instead

              while the kids played in the puddles outside

    the asphalt damp
is borne to me

figures keep passing through
unformed spaces
with unfathomable ease

fragments pop glitter
     valley sparks
         of disheveled winter

pass by

tumble down through
grassy banks
  to the vermillion ocean

caulk the lungs
and drift
bwuh bweeh (mwooohh) ghuu gwoooo bwaa waa weeeh wooooo (mwuuuuuuuuuuuu) bwaa bwaa baa baaaa mwaa mwaa mwuuh mwuu waaa wiiirhh wuuu mwaa muu wuu whhhhhhhr woooo guuuuuuuuuuuuuuu (wmmmmmmrrrrrrr mwwwwrr wmwrwrm) rwm mweeeh, wa waaau wuuu wooooo wuuuh (mwwrrhhhhhhhrrr, mwwweee mwaaa waahmm) baahn, baaa bweee bwooh (waa waa mwaa weeeh woooh) bwaana bwee bwoooh, (whiiirrr mwoooooooooooh) PltbhpltBhpltbHplTbhpltbhpltbhhhhh bubububuhbubhubhubbaBaBaBAaaaH babwaaah (mwhhhr, mweeeh mwaaaa wwhhhrynaaa) BWAA BWAAB WAABWAAA mwuuh, mwooooh muwuhhuwheewoooohhh whhhhhhhheeeeee mweeeee mwoooooooooo weeoooeooeoeoeeoooeoeoeoeoeoo bweeeh bwooooo bwaa bweeh bwooo, bababwebwohbwuuuuuuuuuuuuuu (baah beeeh boooh) kyndaah kydaa kyeeh dooooh nyee nyoooo nyaaa nyeee nyooo (bglth, bloteh, bglthbloteh bglthblehhhh) (nyooh, nyanyenohnehnoooh) gjruhhhnk gjuuuurhnhkrhkrkk vbbjjjfgggehhhhhhhhhh vvvbbbjjjjjefkgkggggggg  (dwaada dada daaaa) wbaa bweeh bweeh bweeeeeee, bwebehbehbwaaa, beh  bah beh boh Beeeeh (Bwom Bwom) vmwehhhhh vmweeeh vwoooh vwmwmeee (Bwom Bwom) vmwehhhhh vmwaaaaa (Bwom Bwom Bwom Bwom (MVRrrrrdkdkk MRVrwwiiiiiii) Bwom Bwom Bwom (krshgjkrshshshhhh)) MLRHhveeeh MLHaaavwaa mweeeh mwhouuh (Bwuuuuu, Bwom)   Dwaaa Dwaa dwoooh dweehhh   (Bwoh Bwom)  MWRNLHAAaaaa MLWAaa wmeeh mwee wom, waa waa wee woom (mwooo mwaaa mweee wooo) guu gwan, gwee gwuu huuu bwuuuu vuuuu nhuuuuu mwuuuu nyuuuuu (whuuuuwooooohwuuuuuoooooooooooohhhooooooooooom)
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
The love pretty please
wait for my
Cherry baby on top
Not some love O-Oreo
I could scream beguiled
Both twirled in swirls
Bavarian cream

Love has torn at the seams
Bad dream hot hit
bounty hunter
Bunny ears of the hop heart
it skips divine lips like a light tower
No other apology cries the thunder

And wait a **** minute
O-Oh-Yes where's my tip

I am not your second
fiddle of stunts
The romance of philosophy

We can fly higher
than anyone
will ever be

The Outgaze O hearts
of symmetry
Being told about their love
or other peoples fun
Twilight apology Wolfin tie outrun

Love O Apology light my pleasure
O on Overdrive no time for the
S letter-word SOS seizure
How many love gestures
of psychology

Love word *O
to Outlive
your treasure
Being psyched for physiology
Feeling mighty good right now
Don't blow bubbles like their
stars* of trouble

A few in the A-New heart stays
ever so blue few Good Men
Perfect Zen thumbs up
His or hers how cute
the words up
The Buddha says
Love is a
spiritual existence

The herbs body rubs
Going to the Hubs
Behind all your apologies
Wearing the new Doctor scrubs
Love house of Labs resistance

The morning glory September
rise and stretch your
overworked wings
Believing never comparing
to another love
It's your love

Or very O for outstanding at the utmost
So incredible the feeling
There's absolutely no apology
The love surrender lion and tigers
So bearable

Her turn like a Turnup
Up close nose smells the rose
Picking love out pulling
the weeds
Her red  embarrassed face
of the radishes
The Shy bush compared
to the O outgoing love
A hint of red delicious apple
Buzzing around the
Mulberry Bush_
Big Ben London
O Sweet Lord of magic singing
*Rosebush* fresh lemons
George Bush Patriotic
Chilean Sea Maiden Bass
Love ******

VIP pass especially with love
Here it is his loves
A spinning wheel so dizzy
London foggy she is the
product of the  flower *****
Like a carnival cotton candy
What a head rush
Another apology and a big push
Those hummingbirds of sweet soul
But something ambushed
She got a lump of his
crab meat cheek crush

Getting over someone never to see them

*Picking out all the petals of the rose when she was with him*

How many apologies open heart surgeries
Apology on hold like a new series
*Wake up "O" my muffin*
Cheers to the world of Oats
Fingerpicking Cheerios
*Don't give in  get to know him


New love *Caved In*
His way per click day
High payments to pay off

BMW Billionaire Man wilted
Love head Beamer
_ My__ World the dreamer

That love pain injury, going faster
Strong love never to lose her
Like cancer Santas Deers love prancer

Fine tooth comb
Negative force to succumb

Artsy wings to meditate
She is destined for something
So articulate
Can this be a painful love of fate?
She succumbs to the time given in
To her O Lord temptation
Words stand alone planet of people
Hearing the real voice no recording
From here to eternity the blasted phone

The Love O not to outwit just sit
And lift your gravity of love
Round earth or your flat on the ground or above
someone knows your true love

*She is combing her hair Silkience Queen of the Divination
Love, there should be no apology lifted gravity that loves O went further than he will ever know her sexuality was smiles alive he couldn't learn his numbers.  Where is the love when your heart thunders world of letters and love writers never to apologize we are the real fighters
Cop A Nop
Yop O U
Dop E Cop I Pop Hop E Rop

Mop U cop hop
E A Sop I E rop
Top hop A Nop
Yop o u
Top Hop I nop kop
It's not that hard, really. You'll figure it out
Commuter Poet Dec 2020
A shot in the arm
Is on the way
Hip hip
Hop hop

What will it mean
For life on this earth?
Have we learned
What nature is worth?

A shot in the arm
Is on the way
Hip hip
Hop hop

This year has been full
Of loss and pain
But we have to do better
Not repeat the same

A shot in the arm
Is on the way
Hip hip
Hop hop

I hope this pandemic
Made us stop and grow
We have to put love
At the heart of tomorrow

A shot in the arm
Is on the way
Hip hip
Hop hop
4th Dec 2020
Lost in her eyes Wondering why the charming type seem to act shy but love deep, we go to sleep to dream about the beautiful bein occupying our daily leeps as progression proceeds to keep the soul on its feet, underneath societys heat of constant mistreatment and misory will your souls paire to defeat any hole misseemed in lifes wrinkled sheets, we iron on straight, no crease to misplease any fabricated link. Instead of Why is my kind extinct, why is it that hip hop lines arive but dont speak, while poetry will poor out my seeds, i cry at night sometimes to fight her from talkin inside my mind "Hip Hop",, thinkin is it my time to die yet,, sudden falls in raw death,, last drip regret, wondering why it has felt so good laying on her chest. Praying that i never have stress again.. but its never the end, , forever is my purpose and the purpose provided friends,, but honestly where do i begin.
One of my personal favorites

— The End —