I have all this music in my head,
With no knowledge on how to get it out of my mind.

Knowing you has been a song,
familiar silence,
as we become aware of existence,
but no form of friendship,
complete empty instrumentals,
the start of us.
beautiful vocals set in,
in anticipation of what's to come,
as I fell for your smile,
only then do lyrics form,
as our story unfolds,
our song isn't finished,
but it's so distorted,
so empty now.

Somewhere in the background in the light waves that swallow all sound there's a girl with a tambourine,
she lives in another dream where the music's written on the screen, the notes remind her that's she's single and behind her is the orchestra playing Schopenhauer
albeit silently,
the aesthetics pleasing me, the silence teasing me, she asks me out to tea and I agree.

In the background where the foreground falls away into the light waves that swallow all sound, she plays her tambourine and we start another dream,
silently at first until we thirst for more than this.

See it's easy to rap about
The ghetto
When u don't live in ghetto
We got blacks raps
Takin us back
And got whites makin fun
Of our slacks
You see it's apart of plan
To destroy society
Without the use of hands
Instead words laid over instrumentals
Once the voice is planted
It can become influential
Or detrimental
See thirty eight years ago
The ghetto was bout surviving police
Brutality and violence
And uprising of black unison
But it wasn't until ****** crack ******* from our beloved government
Entered the scene it became
A reality nightmare
Far from King 's
dream pushed away from teams
*** we wanted to be the next dope king
Pin enjoyin sin punishing pur women men and children
But we're helping the establishment
With the destruction of our race
We can't even look each other in the face
Yet we cry its about race
Yes socially mentality and economically
But in actuality the hood locality
Is where most of the hatred be
I see my folks walk around
Looking at me
Like I'm the reason behind slavery
And they mugg me
But don't mug the p-o-l-i-c-e
Feel me so duck the ghetto
The pimps the hoes
The dope the jewels the clothes
Its nothing but holes
In a womb far from being patched up
Wake up and let's abrupt
And stop letting stereotypes corrupt
Our mindset
We natural born warriors
our existence is fearful
Enough towards them
So let this marinate to ya temple
And stop being so love struck
By the
**** luxury of the ghetto

Eyes like panes of glass
Cut me to pieces
With every fist full of hair and moan for more
I think my favorite song is just a track of our heavy breathing
And the instrumentals are the sound of sweat pooling on your chest
Trace my lips with your finger tips
Look me in the eye
Cut me like glass
Our bodies together is all I ask

There is an abundance of knowledge
That I’ve grown to know about life,
Such as how some green teas,
Brew at a temperature of one hundred and fifty degrees,
Or the way that hues of paint,
Swirl upon a canvas to appear delicate and quaint.
And lastly how my friendships are like little lights,
Illuminating the darkest corners of my life, bright,

And though my brain holds knowledge of,
All that I have mentioned above,
That that I knew not outweighs that of which I do,
Such as the way I feel about you,
Or how the hours spent with you feel so few,
And how every moment spent brings something wonderful and new,

I never knew.
I never knew love,

That my heart could race so fast,
To the melody of the piano instrumentals we listened to last,
Or that I would love the way your fingers run through my hair,
Or how you hold my hand and kiss my fingers tenderly with care,

I did not know.
I did not know love,

That the aroma of Amazni tea
Would bring countless thoughts of you and me,
And that butterflies to my surprise,
Would flutter within every time I’m gazing in your eyes,

Perhaps it is the way you say the word Chicago,
Or you have an appreciation for flakes of snow,
Maybe it’s the way you draw invisible lines on my skin,
I hope you know that this feeling makes me feel beautiful within,

And though I know of this now,
I did not know,
I did not know love,

That I had been waiting twenty five days shy of seven thousand-three hundred and seventy four,
To meet the one who would make me feel something I’ve never felt before.
He who understands of my fears,
And is comforting when I’m at the point of tears,
Maybe it is his entrepreneur set mind,
Or the way our fingers are entwined,
Maybe it is the way we write our own poetry with our mouths,
Or the way we are both not from the South.

It could be any of these,
But I do know that,
I do know love that,

I’ve learned much during these thirty one days,
And as I waltz and frolic through this endless maze,
The only thought I have of which is meaningful,
(Is this)
*“I did not know that love could be this beautiful.“

People are a lot like songs
there are songs that you love the first time but they grow old very fast
and you no longer care to hear them
there are songs that drive you insane,
that seem to be everywhere
and get stuck in your head so easily
no matter how much you want them gone
there are songs you can't get enough of
but you only listen to them when you're sad
because they are not the happiest of songs
there are songs everyone else loves
that you yourself don't enjoy quite as much
and there are songs you love
that no one else cares for
there are songs you feel touching your heart
that you want to learn the words to
but they lose their magic once you know
the words that were hidden
amongst the loud instrumentals
there are songs from long ago
that show up now and then
that you regard fondly and think
back to simpler times
there are songs that make you feel rebellious
ready to overthrow an unjust tyrant
and there are songs that leave you
with a strange sense of purpose
and spark inspiration and hope within you
there are songs with lyrics
profound and wise
and others with lyrics
that do not hold the least bit of sense
I personally hope that you will be a song
that never gets old
that I know each and every word to
I hope you are a song that brings happiness
whenever you come on the radio
and for a moment,
you make me forget everything
and I lose myself in your melody
I hope you are a song that is my first choice
every time I go to karaoke
because you just feel so right
and i hope you are a song
that sounds better to me
the longer I listen
that leaves me thoroughly satisfied
as the last note plays out
and the music fades to silence

Ya Know I Appreciate The Fact …
That Sometimes... Being Black …
Can Lead To Attacks And That’s JUST THAT … !!!

Some From Whites...
And Other Skin Types …
And Some From... Blacks … ?!?

See Some Will STAB Blacks In Their BACK … !?!
When THEY ARE... BLACK … ?!?

What’s Up With … THAT … !???!

I DON’T Appreciate Moves That CLEARLY PROVE … !!!!

UNITY Amongst Mans With DARKER Tans …
Is Less Likely Than Seeing Whitey …
Deal In UNITY For EVERYBODY … !!!

I APPRECIATE WOMEN But NOT So Many GIRLS... !!!
Who Clearly Stick To Living Within Their Made Up Worlds … !?!

The One Where They’re OBSESSED …
With Bad Bwoys’ They Call MEN … ?!?
Whose ***** Cause... PROBLEMS … !!!

So I Appreciate Why Chickens … !!!
Be Driven To **** Lickin’ … !!!
Then Robin’ Them Like … “ Givens “ … !!!!!

I APPRECIATE The Love... !!!!!!!!!!
That Comes From UP ABOVE … !!!

That Doesn’t Place CONDITIONS …
On LOVE That Has Beginnings …
BEYOND … New Definitions … !!!

I Appreciate Positions That Veer AWAY From Missions ….
So BACK SHOTS I Be Giving To Women Who Be Thinking …
Bout' INSISTING On Enlisting Big Virge To Co-exist With … !!!

I Appreciate Sweet Rhythms From End Back To Beginnings …
Just Like I Now Do Music I Just Wish MORE Would Use It … !!!

To ELEVATE Their Mental …
When Hearing Instrumentals...
And Wordplay MONUMENTAL … !!!!!
That’s GOOD FOR YOU Like DENTAL … !!!!!!

I Now Choose To … “ APPRECIATE “ …

MORE These Days Than EVER BEFORE … !!!
Because Now I’m SURE …
Life Sometimes Can Be A CHORE … !!!
So Now Appreciate MORE And Depreciate War … !!!

I Like The Flavour of APPRECIATING NATURE... !!!

You May Need Paper …
But DON’T Let THAT Become Your Saviour … !!!

Cos’ It CAN’T Save You And That’s THE TRUTH … !!!
But... CAN Cause Feuds So Make Smart Moves  … !!!!

I Now APPRECIATE The FACT...
That Money Can Attract The Type of Cats …
That AREN’T Feline So Harbour Designs …
That DEFINE … “ RAT LIKE “ … !!!!!

Appreciation In Life … Depreciates Strife …
If You Appreciate RIGHT And Relegate Fights …
To Being ……………… “ Out of Sight “ ….……… !!!!!!!

These Days I TRY To Appreciate LESSONS … !!!!!
When STRIFE Drives By And Lets SHOTS FLY …… !!!!!!!
That … THREATEN YOUR LIFE … !!!!!!!!!!

I Appreciate The Vibe of ….. “ Staying Alive “ …..
Even Though Sometimes I’ve Thought of SUICIDE ….. !!!!!!    

I Appreciate The Dark That... "ENVELOPS The Light" …
Because It INTERTWINES Just Like A... “ Yin Yang Sign “ …

BALANCE Yes... DEFINED … !!!!!!!
A Place I’m Now Inclined To SEE MYSELF In Life … !!!

APPRECIATING HATERS …
Because They Make Me GREATER … !!!!!!!
And STRONGER EVERYDAY So I Appreciate...
That IGNORANCE INVADES …
Weak Minds That Have THE SPACE ……….

To Think TOO MUCH About Others... ?!?
With HATEFUL LOVE... Don’t Get TIE UP … !!!

Their Love Is Part of Building Heart … !!!!!
That STANDS APART From … Hate Filled Paths … !!!!!!

I Appreciate Flicks As I Do Music …
That OPENS EYES And OPENS MINDS To RECOGNISE …

What’s TRUE From … “ Lies “ … !!!
And Entertains In CLEVER WAYS … !!!

So I DON’T Appreciate Too Much These Days … !!!
Because What’s On DISPLAY …
Seems To Be Well Made To Be... REAL FAKE … !!!!

I Appreciate REAL Like I Do A Good Meal …
So I Ask You …… “ Sep-ar-ate “ …

Those Two Words...

Real … And … FAKE … !!!

There’s NO SUCH THING …. !!!!!
Real Fakeness' Sings And CLEARLY STINGS … !!!!!

So I APPRECIATE Liks’ I Received As A Kid … !!!!!
Cos' They WERE REAL And Now I Feel …
Are The Reason I Appreciate How My Life Is TODAY... !!!!!

I’ve Seen TOO MUCH To Truly Explain...
My Suffering And PAIN But THIS I’ll Say …

My Life Has Been TOUGH When Watching My Mum...
Just Vegetate Into A State That When I Cogitate …
I Can Today Relate As Part of My Life’s Page …

... That I APPRECIATE … !?!

Because of THE MAN It’s Helped Create …
A Man of … Rhyme Wordplay …
That I Hope Maybe... “ One Day “ …
Will Have Made Some People Say …

“That brother, Big Virge,
spoke conscious words within his verse !”

“I’m thankful I heard, some of it,
because he wasn’t fake, and his words
are now something, that I ………”

… “ APPRECIATE “ …

the first and second songs were beautiful ones
melodious and calming ones
about the beauty of nature
and how it does nothing yet so much
how it seems so dull yet beautiful
just like your eyes

the third song was an upbeat song
the kind of tunes that all would dance to
repetitive choruses and long instrumentals
like a circle, they remind me of your
so very long patience on things

the fourth song
was a song filled with raps and curses
talking about injustice and yet
it talks about *** and enjoying it
somehow however, it was nice to listen to
just like you when you get irritated
and yet, find happiness in the
little, irritating things

the fifth song was a song of nonsense
completely irrational
very messy
like paint splattered all over
a white wall
and yet so desirable
just like your smile
that you throw around
to everyone you see

you always thought the number six was
the devil's number
and found it cool
so i placed a song that makes people feel good about themselves
a song that was 'cool'
which was just like how you perceived yourself as
like how you always thought you were cool
and told me with a grin
and i always disagreed
with a little stupid smile of my own

the number seven was a special number to us
our common best friend's jersey number
your class number
my score in a two consecutive math quizzes
our little specialnumber
so i placed our song
a special song that you let me hear
after you heard me sing and said
"you have a nice voice, i think
this song would suit it."

i can never forget that song
so i have it on my mixtape too

you disliked the number eight
for some odd reason
which did not bother me
so i placed a song that irritated you
but made me happy
just to spite you
and to see you get flustered and ******
all at once like no one could
because i like
having you tell me everything you feel
like i do to you

number nine reminded you of
things that were ***** and pretty
so i placed a sensual song
that talked about a guy not deserving
his female admirer
who wanted to love him badly
physically and emotionally
because he did too
a song that was pure guitar
pure voice and soul
and raw emotions
that i believe would make you want to
sing along to it as well
like i do

the tenth song was a sad song
because once you failed a math quiz
with a mark of ten out of twenty
the same score as mine
but i didn't place a song that we both know
a song we both decided on
that was sad
no, instead
i put a song that i knew
but you didn't
which i believed was sadder
because it was like
how you treated me after
i gave you that letter
and made me sad
like this song

the eleventh and twelfth songs were made as one
but had to be cut off due to its length
it talked about a boy who wanted nothing more
than to keep the one he loved all to himself
a boy that flew
and crashed
for a girl that never knew

just like me
when i wanted nothing more
than to send you this mixtape
and have you say to me
a simple "thank you"

or maybe even
a little wishful
*"i love you too."

my dream is to have my song of a hundred thousand people them knowing every lyric to every song I ever made my dream is to be in the studio every Friday every Saturday morning is that have the hottest beats every day my dream still have my song free style over by hundreds of rappers my dream is to have equity my dream is to get paid something I love to do my dream is to hide away instrumentals outside those four walls tis silence my dream expand the minds of the youth now to the next four generations my dream is to be a part of this culture remembered an acclaimed at some of the legends I see before me everyday my dream the city never acknowledges it is to be one of those that opens the door or walk through that door a pioneer if you will my dream is something has to be something if the world pursues to stop me if you know me is f** I was told don't let no one stop your music so your headphones on put on your favorite song turn off all your lights and drift into your zone for my dream is a dream of anybody that's an artist simply that was work in the gallery and better my craft everyday love you music

.and believe me, you will never get into the music of Bohren & der Club of Gore... if you weren't played a lot of classical music as a child, and having graduated from classical music, moved onto jazz music... you will simply not get this band, notably the bass fetish fest on the album Midnight Radio; how did i graduate from classical music to jazz? my GCSE English teacher, a Scot, a Mr. Bunce... THOMAS! he experimented with writing on the basis of our music, my writing partner were to explore whether "satanic" metal music induced violence... we were supposed to speak... but didn't really... first my writing partner's song choice was played, Raammstein's Rein Raus... then mine... Slayer's Spill the Blood... but then one day he brought in a jazz CD... Jazz on a Summer's Day (a compilation)... with the opening track being art barkley's moanin', sooner than later i was asking him to borrow that Ben Webster album, where you can listen to the best cover of the song: how deep is the ocean... and then came Miles Davis... i was probably the only 15 year old who listened to the message literally, and followed the advice the day after, having bought the album... he said... whoever doesn't own Miles Davis' kind of blue by the time they're 30, well... then there's something seriously wrong with them.

who would have thought...
that wes borland
could craft such atmospheric
instrumentals...
well...
     given how atmospheric
the song hold on
was on chocolate starfish
and the hotdog flavored water,
i'm not surprised...
and almost akin to
to tom verlaine's album
around...
you take one listen
to the song jubilee
from the album crystal machete...
whatever the hell he did
with big dumb face
with that death-metal growl...
i'm happy he finally found
his strength to compose
purely instrumental music...
obviously he's not a guitar
maverick,
   in terms of showing-off
like some Van Halen or
a joe satriani...
the whole point was to craft
something akin
to the comparison with
the album kenotic (2005)
by the band hammock...
yes, great... you can pick up
the frets,
the solo *******
into excess..
but like food...
   where the balance of flavors,
and texture are important...
texture translated from
a critique of food...
into music?
       atmosphere...
the haunting lingering on...
a simple nuance,
   matched to a perfected
repetition...
what texture is in food,
atmosphere is in music...
now... i figured...
   if john frusciante could
tap into a purely instrumental
album,
  and forgot about singing...
he'd probably come out
with a Grammy's worth of
an album...
             i mean... i like his music...
but if he continues to
preserve the multitask
endeavor of singing,
and playing guitar?
    he's not prince...
                 but if wes borland
can move away from
  that... ******* that was
big dumb face...
and make something akin to
crystal machete?
then john frusciante
can pull-off a tom verlaine...
or at least work with
something akin
to davy graham's
virtuosity on the track
blue raga,
from the album
              large as life and twice
as natural (1968).

There's a combination of words stuck at the back of my tongue.
As i diligent search a way to self express, i discover
that my vocal chords have already given up.
I´m numb in my actions and paralized in my speech.
A blend of fear and past dissappointments
are causing a knot in my stomach
and arousing a battlefield between
the words on my lips and the words of my thoughts.
Swallowing through feelings and sentences confining my emotional vocabulary,
i continue to move myself with the words left and
the right intentions in the back of my head.
Drenched in fake smiles and fake laughters.
Wounded but still whole. I move on.
Till they become scars on the invisible side of my soul.
I know that there ain't no way that
you´ll ever dance to the rythm of my heartbeat.
So i'll continue to move myself in life on instrumentals.
Alone. Silently. Broken. Unspoken.

I got the blues like James cotton and the crew

The blues in my hands
Like the crew and James c.o.t.t.o.n

Not like k.r.a.f.t
More like zatarains r.i.c.e
...A lonely mans meal
The blues
For crying out loud my ol lady left me
Every 5 minutes for 9 minutes
I cry without tears coming down my eyes
So no need for a bucket
My cheeks are dry
I cry through my trumpet
My cheeks are cramping
I cry so often and so long
The way in which my feet tap you can't tell that it's a sad song

I thought I would've Lost harmony when Monica left
But my harmonica explains the exchange of breaths going through my chest

Yet, blues explains my mood
On stage with my dudes
Audience in-tune with my news

The blues
I got the blues
Can you relate?
Did she escape?

No wonder why you're rapping and sagging
Bluffing and bragging
And your not huffing; puffing , and nagging
To get a case of the blues the love between the two once upon a time had to be true

I got the blues
And it's hard and complicated
I am strung like the guitar
...Observation!
There's no contemplation
Nor hesitation
I abandon my mentals
And create instrumentals
I got the blues
And to prove I have the bruise
Heartache and headaches
Allow me to groove
The blues, skies, teals, turquoises
No lies, tears nor voices

Real blues like fats, Percy , Ruth, king, archibald "stack-a-lee", hank Williams "nobody's lonesome for me"

The blues
My aching trombones
Drug free, but my bass is laced
I let my fingers rake
The blues
She don't know what she had
Hope that I can put down my flask
when I move on to jazz

So Are You A... FOLLOWER of Trends... ?

Or Are You A... " Trendsetter "... ?

COME FORWARD MY SELECTOR... !!!!!!!!

BUT Mek' Sure You Come BETTER...
Than Playlists Set By Heads...
Whose Music TENDS To BEND...
To FIT With Trends That Lend......

Themselves To... " weaker blends "... !!!

Weaker... Beats...
Weaker... Bass Lines... !!!

Rifts That STINK of... " Weaker Minds "...
Than Those Who SNIFF Them ******* Lines... !!!!!

It Seems Some FIND Themselves... "CONFINED"... !!!
To... Toe The Line of CURRENT Vibes...

WHATEVER's Current... EVEN IF It's DUMB... ?!?
Seems To Be Concurrent With Tunes They... BUMP... !!!
Dumbed Down Drums That Now DON'T THUMP... !!!

But They Would Say...

"That's just the way
of trends that the young,
now want in clubs !" ...

Like GRIME They CLAIM Has...
... " CHANGED The Game ! "...
Changed The Game To WHAT ...
A Game That's... " Lame "... ?!?

Beats That NEED A ****** GOOD CLEAN... !!!
NOT The GRIMEY... of The NINETIES... !!!!!

It Seems The PLOT Has... " THICKENED "... !?!
To Trends Where Music's........................  MISSING.... !!?!!
What Old School Heads Were BRINGING.... !!!!
Beats That Kept Heads... RINGING... !!!

Sounds Now Seem Thin To Heads Like Me...
Like Men of TIN With NO... " Dorothy "... !!!
We See How Weak The Trends NOW BE... !!!

The Trend These Days Seems To Have Swayed...
To ANYTHING And EVERYTHING...
SEXUALLY... And MENTALLY... !?!

It's Fallacies That... HAPPILY...
Are Trends That Peeps'...
Now Seem To......... SEEK.............................. ?!?

Truth's Now Expressed...
Via... " Internet Trends "...

Well So it... " Seems "... ?!?

But What Kind of Truth Comes From A Group...
With TWIT At The BEGINNING of The Name They USE... !?!

I'm Just Asking Cos' ...
I'm A Twitter Head TOO... !!! ? !!!
But DON'T Let It CONSUME ...
My Views With FALSEHOODS... !!!

I'D Rather TRUST My Mental NOT Internet Feeds...
Or Mainstream INCIDENTALS Like... REALITY TV ... !!!!!

Or... TALENT Shows...
Where TRENDS They Hold Are TRULY Low... !!!!!!!

USING Wannabes' Like CLOWNS To Be...
RIDICULED... On TV Screens... !!!

That's Why NEW TRENDS Are Internet Led...
Because SMART Heads NOW HAVE The Sense...
To YES download What They Watch At Home...
Or THESE Days STREAM What They WANT To See... !!!!!

But Trends Like THESE AFFECT... Artistry...
When Art Becomes CHEAP Or Basically FREE... !!!!!

Unless It's... MAINSTREAM... !!!

So THESE Trends Are DETRIMENTAL...
To Those Whose INSTRUMENTALS...
Are Those That FEED The Streets...

NOT Heads At... " Companies "... !!!

Like Those FED By Their Marketing Teams... !!!

I Meant Marketing JERKS Who Let REAL ART Burn...
And In Turn SERVE To STOP Art Being Heard...
By MAINSTREAM Herds Who NOW Seem To Prefer...

... MANUFACTURED Works... ?!!!?

Instead of Art That's From The HEART... ?!?

Which Seems To Be Why A LOT of Artists STARVE...
When They DON'T Comply With TRENDS Or CHARTS... !!!!!

I'm Saying It's COOL That TRENDS Move ON... !!!
But They're A TOOL That's USED By Bods'...
To CONVINCE YOU of... What Is HOT... !!!!!!!!!

If I Played Marvin Gaye...
EVERY Single Day What Would You Say... ???

"That the music was lame,
because it's not new, and is too old school !"...

... You Should Be ASHAMED... !!!

YES Trends Will CHANGE...
But CLASSIC DOESN'T Change It's Name... !!!!!!!!!

Don't You Know What ROCKS Your Boat... ?
And ROCKS The Boat of THESE... " A - HOLES "... ?!!!?

It Seems Most... " DON'T ".... ?!?

Well It's Stuff That's STRONG And ROCKS Like KONG... !!!
And LIFTS HEADS Like... HITS From The ****... !!!!

YEAH Sounds Will CHANGE But Bass Is BASS... !!!
And In My View... Should SHAKE Like QUAKES... !!!!!

When They Are PLACED Onto Dub Plates...
Where Lyricism... Is HARD HITTIN'... !!!!!!!!!!
And Has ONE TREND... To FIT With Rhythms...

NOT IMPRISONED In A... "TREND"...
Because It's Made For DOLLARS And CENTS... !!!

There Was ONCE A Trend...
Where CREATIVE Meant... EXACTLY THAT... !!!!!
Making Tracks That SLAMMED At Jams...
And Made SURE That... Parties Were RAM... !!!!!

Because of SOUNDS...
That WEREN'T... "dumbed down"...
And... RADIO Friendly...
Now Trends Are SMELLY...
When They Should Be DEADLY...
In How They AFFECT...
Where Corporates SPEND...
Their... " Marketing Money "... !!!!!!!!!!!

Cos' The TRUTH Is THIS A Lot of MAINSTREAM HITS...
Gives PROOF That MONEY Makes People Act FUNNY... !!!
When It Comes To MUSIC And CREATIVE Gifts...
That They CLAIM To Be FIT To... " SET THE TREND "... !!!

I Guess That's Why Some Feel Like... " I "...
That GOOD MUSIC... Is HARD To Find... !!!

Because In The END The... " BOTTOM LINE "...
Has Become Less... About PHAT' Bass Lines...

It's Become... A DRAW...
For PROGRAMMED Chords...
And SCORES of ******... !!!!!!!
Who NOW Tread Boards...
WITHOUT Rocking Jaws........ ?!?

With HEAVY SOUNDS...
And Beats That POUND... !?!?!?!

It's MONEY That RULES What Tunes Get THROUGH...
But Here's Some Advice For The Young NEW SCHOOL...

DON'T Let FITTING IN CONTROL YOUR GROOVE... !!!
CREATE The Tunes That Sound GOOD To YOU... !!!

But... BEFORE You DO...
Take The Time To RECOGNISE...
That ALL That GLITTERS IS NOT Gold... !!!!!

DON'T SELL Your SOUL RESEARCH The... " Old "...
BEFORE You're TOLD How YOUR DREAMS Should Roll... !!!

WHATEVER YOU Create...
Try To Make It... GREAT... !!!!!!!!

NOT A Hit For TODAY That Gets.... " Airplay "....
But Gets THROWN AWAY The VERY NEXT Day... !!!?!!!

I'd Rather ENLIST...
CREATIVE Things That People RESPECT...
Rather Than EXPRESS...
Just To Get A... " PHAT' Cheque "... !!!!!

Because I'd Rather BE The Head...
Whose Artistry Is Led By QUALITY That... SETS...

And DOES NOT FOLLOW...

....... " TRENDS "......

girl in a relationship fascinated w/a stranger she met once. emotions attached to what she can’t hold yet deep down. she craves; she always wondered what it was like to see the other face of the moon. often questioned where it slept when light consumed day when the mind wanders. the heart does too. curiosity is often attached to ‘things you’re bound to find’ that’s if. you go look for it and she did. as she drank coffee across from her sat a man, a stranger. he looked up & smiled at her a few times before he got up & left. something about the way he looked at her made her ***** where she stood. her thighs electrified with energy of how this was even possible, lust was so heavy she followed behind him. he didn’t say much but the side of his mouth formed half a moon of a smile. she felt a rush. excuse..me’ she said softly. there was a hesitation in her tone but luckily the wind carried her voice loud enough to brush past the stranger’s ears. he stopped. the stranger’s thoughts: ‘she had to be the most beautiful loneliest girl my eyes had ever been humbled enough to come in contact with’. he was right. there was a lighthouse stuck in her throat that never made it past peripheral. light was dim in her eyes. this was clear. hi. my name is so & so’ —he stared at her lips and smiled again. ‘nice to meet you love’ how was your coffee he asked. it was just as sweet as i imagined our first conversation would be like. it’s not everyday you find a soul like yours and attract to it. what do i call you’ she whispered gently as she got closer to him while their eyes danced on each other’s lips. names are not important when presence is the greater ambience. follow me, he insisted & grabbed her hand gently with a full grip. she had no reason to doubt. everything felt blissful. she didn’t know where he was her taking but it didn’t matter as long as he knew. here she was. in a stranger’s apartment. lights dimmed, candles lit. instrumentals relaxed the mood on the radio. she felt like a woman. he leaned over & pulled her chin higher closer then kissed her lips. moved her hair to one side and brushed his tongue alongside her ear. instantly her body melted as he grabbed both edges of her shirt and lifted up and over her head exposing skin. she was warm. and..ready.you taste like sunday mornings’ he whispered in her ear as he pushed her against the wall while hands hovered her curves & lips on skin, her mouth dropped as quickly as her body temperature rose & demanded to feel more. skin. hands. lips. touch. words. she craved it all..

Hi! This is about music so scroll on if you don't care.
I'm working on my debut album, Drama Kween, and decided to share some of the mini songs that will be in between subject changes throughout the album. They'll have simple instrumentals later on, but for right now are acapella. Give 'em a listen?

To Me

it's on soundcloud.com/iguessimbaileymartin/to-me

lyrics:
"Sometimes I talk to myself, sometimes I sing to myself.
Sometimes I talk about talking and singing to myself,
sometimes I sing about singing and talking to myself.
Sometimes I talk and sing about talking and singing about singing and talking to myself (to myself)."

The Hippie Song

it's on soundcloud.com/iguessimbaileymartin/the-hippie-song

lyrics:
"No one says lice and no one says gay, but your modesty and life you better throw it away,
'cause in a world where the media
replaces scrapbooks
and hearts,
if you're livin' like a hippie they will tear you apart
if you're livin' like a hippie they will tear you apart
if I'm livin' like a hippie they will tear me apart
if I'm livin' like a hippie they will tear me apart
tear me apart
t-t-t-tear me apart!"

Goodbye

it's on soundcloud.com/iguessimbaileymartin/goodbye

lyrics:
"I'm so tired, I'm so tired.
Of feeling I have to cry.
I just wanna lay with you in my bedroom and watch the days go by.
But I'm so tired, tired of feeling shy.
And counting how many tears make up for a year.
Is this hello or goodbye?
Is this hello or goodbye?
I wanna know if this is the last time.
Is this hello or goodbye?
Well it's goodbye! Baby it's goodbye.
I was tired of the games and the pain and the lies so baby it's goodbye.
It's goodbye! Baby it's goodbye.
So I'm gonna rid you of my bedroom and get on with my life.
I'm so tired, I'm so tired.
Not gonna waste my time!
So I'm gonna rid you of my bedroom and get on with my life."

Another starlit Hemetucky night,
Finds me listening to one of my many,
Many Bonnie Raitt CDs.
Metaphorically speaking,
We must lick her ****.
Give her the recognition
She indubitably deserves.
10 GRAMMYs?
Listed as number 50 in
Rolling Stone Magazine's
100 Greatest Singers of All Time;
Number 89 on their list of the
100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time!
Lists? We humans love lists.
The HUAC loved lists also.
And while we’re on the subject of lists,
What list has your name been added to?
A statistical anomaly worthy of further
Investigation by our Big Brother in Bluff, UT,
Those guys tracking anyone goo-goo,
Googling my name, my poetry,
The poetry of Giuseppi Martino Buonaiuto,
My UNpublished poetry, i.e.,
By definition, nothing in print,
Nothing between book covers,
Nothing you can get your hands on.
Merely cyber-effervescence,
An Off World ether,
An ether although vaporous,
A digital fingerprint, nonetheless:
Quickly identifiable,
Easily reducible,
An entirely redacted,
Boiled down, cooked down roux.
A roux you’ll rue? Perhaps.
Not to mention the kanga roo,
ROO as in secret, offshore
Kangaroo courtrooms.

So know, know you’re on a list.
One of numerous Watch Lists
Watched by the Watchers who
Watch people like us.
So, if you’re reading this online,
Don’t say I didn’t frickin warn you.

BONNIE RAITT:
Of particular interest is her brilliant cover of –
Her complete musical reupholstering of--
Del Shannon’s neonatal 60s-era classic:
“Runaway.”
That twang slide-bass intro.
That harmonica squeal hovering above;
Those long, pulsing instrumentals
Punctuating her grit.  Her heart.
Her dark & lonely childhood
That drew her to true roots music.
Like me, born in 1949--
Unlike me: in Burbank, California.
Daughter of Broadway Musical Star
John Raitt: a true Roadie,
If ever there was one
Bonnie sent to private Quaker schools,
Banished to pricey summer camps.
Routine experience for any child of
Successful entertainers on the road,
Again. (Sing it, Willie!)
Bonnie: denied nothing but
Parental time invested.
Consumed by a drive to
Get the man’s attention,
Daddy’s little girl,
Addicted to ******. Fade out:
“I wah-wah-wah-wah wonder.
If you will stay, my run, run, run
My little runaway,
Come back baby,
My runaway.”

Human nature
Yea I remember was a young fool
Back In grade school
I was breaking all the rules
I wanted to be the next drug mule
And be like the homies the block
Packing a glock
Mean muggin the cops
My bigger homie had a top drop
He wAs all about his paper
Slangin them rocks
But I didn't see the price
Of the picture of his adventure
Fool got into some serious ****
Cuz of jealousy
Body lit like a Christmas tree
Struck the whole community
Never know who's ya real enemy
Is
Now he resting in peace
Much loveto the homie
Cuz it's human nature
Nature nature nature
Its hu hu hu man nature nature nature nature

Its human nature naw I don't hate ya
But since you was ***** I had to **** ya
You buztas is played out
I'm tryna get my cash lay out
Blueprints for my lil Prince
My son ain't growing soft **
So gotta make this bank roll
Keep it swole and watch these scandalous hoes and niggeros
As I contemplate eating milk and Oreos
This ain't no soap opera just a scenario
Reppin htown third ward
My barrio in the studio
With wattz whippin up dope instrumentals **** criminals
Baby we living the high life
Sticking the game
Without the need of a knife
Married to game but I got a side wife
As I heat up bread like a baker
Cuz it's human nature
Hu hu hu human nature nature nature nature nature

Welcome to the stellar season

new passion & new reason

I am reignited

too flamed, I’m heat seeking

Simply motivated

like a *******

Condoms made of confidence

Just in case I **** your mother

I’ve come from the bottomless

I’m higher than the very top

Too high, Upper echelon, ***** I’m Michael Angelo mixed with a Megatron

Phantom of the Op

with a knife that never stops

Chucky in the form of a dope decepticon

looking for a *** of gold like a leprechaun

If I don’t find the gold, then I’ll put the *** in ****

then spark that **** forever long

Confidence & cognac enough to keep me gunning,

cardio to cardiac Arrested for the running

Running of the mouth, running of the mind, I feel too defined

I think I’ve reached a line

Everyday

I write & spit a verse or two

yelling at the sky to see what the universe would do

a science experiment and the catalyst is you

steady battling the truth

Between working that 9 to 5

Or chasing your inner youth

Displacement of bigger visions

Shuffled by rash decisions

Motivation has risen, coupled with work ethic

I want exotics & moments of rarity

My visions clear, I’m surprised by this clarity

The world's changing like moods swings and irregularities

2016 will be the year of efficiency

A strong alliance of motivation and pure ability

Smarter science, enhances ions an durability

Energy streams through my seams like electricity

it feels riveting

I will change my ground like a terraform generator

I know that I’m bound to something that’s much greater

**** all of the hate

******* & the naysayers

onion I am

my mind has many layers

No more dishes served cold

I’m tired of late waiters

I’m a heat-seeking ventilator

Freestyle originator

Here's some cold bars & some beers from my refrigerator

Mastermind incinerator to all of the instigators

Instagram this so you ***** can read it later

No More Procrastinators, haters & ******* decisions makers

I’m bulldozing my way, then rebuilding like path makers

Skillfully shifting ground  

I’m here to tilt the equator

The time to make money

is now

Not later

Negotiations of lame relations are no longer in the equation

I’m on my digital hustle like a roomed packed with 3 Indians & 2 Asians

All coding syntax for an app that automatically takes pictures of random places

Not so C++ Basic, but if you can crack the code then it’s your for the taking

This is the stellar season were motivation is lurking, I’m excited like jive turkey, hand me a biscuit, time to consume then sore like a fly birdie.


my minds sturdy, I’m making sick instrumentals to spit a flow from the mental then simply define worthy.

I loved to ride my Schwinn bicycle
I guess I was only nine
I ride it down to the pond
where I spent a lot of my time

I also loved a girl back then
She had a dog named Polar Bear .
Of course it was white
Until it was run over
by a school bus whose driver didn't care

I loved living in Florida
The salt air from
the ocean there
When I left the Sunshine State
I left a huge chunk
of me back there

Now I am a hand in my pocket
Always reaching for something not there
Home is where you hang
your hat
But I found no pegs to hang it
Inside of your lair .

If only we could put poems
in a bucket
Then throw onto a raging
fire
Would the flames die out
Or leap even higher .

But it seems words cost us nothing
More plentiful than the grass on the ground
Our lives have become instrumentals
Where there are no words to be found

you miss childhood so much you try dressing like you would if you were seven again.
sneakers and frilly socks.
big t-shirts and messy hair, because you’ve stopped caring about perfect hair.
you don’t mind getting your knees ***** or scabs on your shins.
those pains don’t make you flinch.
those pains don’t talk to you at night.
those pains don’t hurt like the hurt you’ve really felt.
the type of hurt that can’t be pin pointed or fixed with copious amounts of Neosporin.
you don’t worry about how you’ll feel in the morning until the morning comes.
you bite the skin off the tips of your fingers like your aiming for the bone.
because the stress and pain hits you bone deep.
bone deep.
its almost romantic sounding.
but isn’t being so broken such a romantic thing anymore?
sad music doesn’t even phase you.
its all you know. instrumentals lined with tiny violins and crying cellos.
you lay back in the grass and close your eyes. you try forgetting about the city surrounding you. the heat rises from the pavement and grips your lungs like my hands grip the small of your neck. the sun beats down on you like you owe it money.
but you don’t sweat.
this is the small stuff.
ice coffee and a bagel with cream cheese.
start your day happy.
fall apart at the end.
repeat. things get better.
then they get worse.
three months of total bliss for three months of total ****.
thats the way life works right?
it always gets better though.
be still.

slight music
quite instrumentals slither through the space

now an ethereal silence and a curled, gnarled hand rest at the table
weather-worn pockmarked face twitch
a common occurrence
a scene worthy of a masterful painter
the air sighs, not in sound but in feeling
it is demure, languid,
a seamless bond of hunched figure and wispy breaths
a heart feels light and hollow with pulsating winds surrounding it
a man's hide tingles, prickles
pores gently widen in anticipation

a boxed room
a shackle room
dark, yet for the dim lantern
and a speckling of pinpoints in ever shifting pupils
patterns shift with tightening skin, hackles raised
billowing smoke against snarling and jolting

our West is not kind

a child stumbles with its chittering and chattering, back into its hole
an equalizer delicately rocks upon the floor
hot in its despondence and billowing smoke barrel
the metal becomes cold, uncaring; what despair was impacted upon it has left, as is the same with all objects subject to human emotion

Old blood sleeps in the shackled room
with chattering mumbling children in their holes

life is but glorious process, while we all wish for results
how deplorable

The abstract expressionists wanted
to



strip



their work of associations
yearning for pure emotion
I didn't understand
but now I do.

Every song I've heard before
heard now
reminds me of my hollow heart
voices and instruments as phantom limb-reminders.

So I find weird instrumentals
electronic
trip-hop
stuff I never liked, things with nothing tied to them.

No summer love
no winter warm kisses
or new year of uncertainty.

It's my escape
into some kind of sensation
for
now.

them lines is terrible
check the flow article
turn to hip hops manual
to learn a better flow or a better go
running from my lingo
on instrumentals
cuz yee know im detrimental
now watch me bus a bust like my mans rhymes
get it naw too slow to chime
i blow minds like land mines
once my pen hits the ink
ya cant blink cuz yosef
got telepathic addictions
lynchin' mental cells penchin'
cuz ya cant hang with me in this flows existence
ya need persistence
to hang with the greatest
take out the latest
emcees leave em stinky as fresh cheese hang with ogs
who **** for free or blatantly cuz steppin' to me ya better be
huh ready to go war cuz im snatchin' revenues
breakin' crews through gats n bats so ya know its critical
for ya to escapes its a miracle
i gain fame off pleasurin' pain
against the grain completely drained
cuz i leave empty brains im vain
as dolly parton still fartin'
firin' ****** up like ol martin'
i be the darkest of the darkest mark this
day n age once ya turn the page all ya see is rage
as i rack rhymes like a twelve gauge
rackin' shells spittin rounds
til bodies go stiff n touch hell
confined with no yell silence the demons screamin' yo jalel ***** this aint no fairytale
yo check the pic of that black guy with the afro pick
Even he look at your rhymes like ****
i got more licks than a blow pop im talkin glocks cocked
got ya face and body shocked as i rock
you to sleep cant even walk in the streets alone
cuz ya know yosef make skulls n bones **** yellowbones
i shine brighter than yellowstones on ya girlies ear
step up to the arena only to fear .the magnificent rhymes ya here
as i clear take control over the game as i steer
into another directions
haters better get protection
cuz in gankin' spanking emcees without an *******
i spit hotter than lava from my saliva
ya get nothing but hard rhymes
made you run from twistas sucide makin a marathon
*****! ya got 25 miles to go .only one mile eliminated
but once ya get to 26 you'll be laminated n a casket or cremated
from my scorching lyrics hard to clear once ya get near it
no smokes n mirrors the realer the pain the more the blood drains permanent like a stain
with my illegal amigos
will open up ya temple leaving more dimples than cellulite
fools get ya flows tight learn how to write
and spit metaphors i go for the gore sore til ya aint breathin no more
i told ya yosef be the magnificent never hesitant
breakin ya off like 8ball and MJG
got ya head restin lovely above the clouds
somebody call the coronor foe me
for this guy jalel who thinks he can hang with me
i got him confined like penitentiary ya can never get ahead me diss me
make ya head fly into suicides like kamikaze

i've been awake since 6am
i'm running on two and a half hours of sleep
i've been on the road since 7am
and i'm writing this at 1pm
i'm thinking about greggs sausage rolls
thinking about where i'm going in life
thinking about when this road will end
thinking about slowthai's yugioh cards
thinking about how much i love frank ocean
thinking about how i interpolate milo lyrics to fit my life
though i probably couldn't tell you what his words mean
thinking about how i drift from one person to the next
desperately searching for a new friend to cling to
thinking about why i didn't shave my face
for two weeks i was scared that with a blade in reach
i'd be tempted to slice my throat
if i drowned, would my body float?
thinking about how i should cut my hair
thinking about how i can act cuter
thinking about that coil girlfriend
but maybe i'll go for a boy instead
i burned my mouth on a greggs sausage roll again
so it looks like it's all going to plan
sometimes i view greggs as a temple
and the sausage roll is my zen master
i find solace in cheap british bakeries
just like how i find peace in a black man's philosophies
today i'll get my groceries from the nostrum grocers
and write poems at the apex of my sleepiness
this road is only going one way
and i can't go back to pick up the pieces
so i collect what i can to stitch together a new tapestry
made out of the few remaining pieces of the old me
maybe one day driver will say i have perfect hair
thinking about how excited i am to read tallen's messages on discord
it's nice hearing about his l5r discourse
thinking about how i promised to deliver instrumentals for quetzal
but i never did get started on them
thinking about my friend gabe's new album
and how i wish i had richard dawson's falsetto
and how i wish someone would hug me
but if i admitted that, that'd feel pretty needy of me
i don't know when this road will end
maybe i'm stuck on here forever
immortalised in the asphalt like a dead bird
approach me like you would your dad hanging in trafalgar square
i used to smile in every selfie
now it's a chore to smirk at all
but it ain't all bad
i might make curry on saturday
or maybe i'll make chicken soup
and it'll be better than hers
because i'll make sure to remove the bones

The conversational instrumentals
reply to each other harmoniously
the drum pounds,the rumbles pumps
as the skyline shine on mountains

The cas cas attach the drifty clouds
the C major smiles inside the beats
melodies of the G clef arrest the rest
a spell of keyboard appraised in praise

The trumpet screams as a saint
on the shadows of the lighted hall
the wall on the edge of the mall
a fusion of hope the unsung treaties

In the west the sound of the ancestors
appease my piece, to seek a forgone peace
inside the overrated and haunted world
of indifference and utter misfortune

To the reader before reading: I did not write or own the instrumentals, I just wrote a song  to go with the melody. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEWFq1_NVSg   For those of you that choose to listen along side reading, the written whistles in the song are there to help you keep the pace I had in my mind. I am not a musician of any form. This just made me feel at peace. The song I wrote ends at 6 minutes and 5 seconds into the melody. Thank you for reading.

10 P.M. (A song for my dog)

Hey
Watch where you aim that big yawn of yours, now
Yes, I know
That the moon is high above us
Sun
Set
whistles
Moon
Rise
Please
Do not let the dreams take you away yet
Just hold on
There are still some things you need to know
Scarred
Hand
whistles
Warm
Fur
Look
I should tell you these things every day
Time is rude
You should know how much I love you
More
Love
whistles
Less
Words
Time
It is measured differently for you
Or perhaps
That tool does not apply to you
No
Wrist
whistles
No
Watch
Wish
Our time spent here was a bit more even
It's not fair
Why can't I give you most of mine
Take
My
whistles
Glassed
Sand
Tears
Of mine roll down your soft fur coat
I'm sorry
It does not even make you mad
Brown
Eyes
whistles
Gold
Fur
Those
Other people don't understand me
Or backwards
My words are just wasted in the air
Blank
Stares
whistles
Turned
Heads
Why
Should I even be thinking of them
You're right here
I got all I need in my arms
Big
Hug
whistles
Tired
Eyes
Thanks
For hearing all that was on my heart
It means a lot
I shouldn't keep you any longer
Last
Yawn
whistles
Curl
Up
Truth
I will love you more tomorrow
Like each day
Sleep wonderfully until then
Chase
Dreams
whistles
Good
Night

Forest phantom imagery
haunting stereophonic instrumentals
from Murals
whispering     on in nights    fine tent
wrapt up in my sleeping bag and only hearing dynamite as clouds
pass into the afterlife and
the moon has blossomed
the ocean!
Whole Blue Cliff Record lit in here on a bright canvas,
trees can see me saving paper,
Asian telltales, poetics,
and Buddhist Zen philosophy
swirls in my Mystic/Sombrio harp-brain
vivid by lucid shrillness
(achey wakey!!)
Turn the pillow
snap a mental image of that modern monk,
imaginary in his waterfront Salvation Army and his
Glass Temple and his
blasted literature.
His tearful dreams, logical processes... so that it's okay (zzz) always (zzzzz) what's that up there, Shiva?
I am atom, you are ATOMIC
There's a difference here I promise (ASTRONOMICAL)

The waves demand their presence to be known by periodic lion-like clamor, my lips are dry from fireside cider and absolute darkness fills up this space like water, oh cosmic libertine! Snap their starless net to catch the sea and a luminous fish which I may be presented with like inky flashes of thought courtesy of the streetlight moon who's pale properties signal GO
to those willing to decipher it's surface from this far away..
All the quiet beat down trees murmur muffled truth.

This truth is only available to dogs and Christ,
but not me, not any normal soul who's mortal vision is too blurred to make anything out of yet..this Springtime tapestry just a fragment
to an ETERNAL NOISE
which may be faintly audible past the waves
who try their best to stamp it out of perception.
But I am feeling particularly meditative tonight!
I'll at the very least stroke the thin top layer of absolute knowledge
and do so with heightened, trained consciousness..
when the moment is right
which may not be now
(definitely not now)
quelled by flesh and sleepy daze,
onyx silk covering us in warmth..but I will get there!
An Everest for any to see but exclusive to those who can.
Climbing higher in years
emotional trials
loves and fears
or passing seasons where I signify the apparent shift with
a name
(Parade)
or
(Pendulum)
Out from under
But not yet completely unwrapped from
The Mosaic
to see it all stretched open,
beautiful and tragic.

Let me take you on a trip, let telepathy Guide us into a higher dimension
Carress my mind with intellect before you try to get hypnotized from the thoughts of caressing my things.
To get into me you must first
Take a ride.
Glide into the warm winds on my rainbow, tune into my spiritual channel, then slide into my *** of gold,
explore me in all ways, lay into every part of my soul..speak of philosophy, hip hop, poetry, black history, universal laws that all cause my body to glow..
Awaken me,
Attract my attention to yours like a magnet exchanging energies
Create explosive ******* within my heart before you try to dive into me.
Give me the feeling of what love is actually made of, let's reach higher up.
Let's change the world together.
A glance from your eyes shall give me sweet pleasure.
Quantum level love,
enlighten me, ignite me.
Paint a picture of your thoughts in the form of art, simplex my visions, levitate my mind.
swirl your intellect into mine as if you could be the next Albert Einstein.


Give me that blissful feeling of a peace of mind..
elevate me, drift me into the cosmos and connect your third chakra to mine.
Connect your vibrations to mine to lift me into a higher frequency just from the look of your eyes.

Flow me into space, serve me ecstasy, help me reach galaxies even NASA couldn't achieve..
study my anatomy,fly me open,
drift your brown lips into mine and Gently use your tongue as a paintbrush to fill, my canvas.
nice circular motions as if you were creating planets, Venus, Mars..
Visions of stars, creating our own universe, colliding our bodies as if we were creating a big bang..
which  shakes my legs into vibrations of unstoppable rates.
Trampoline me off into galactic, make me blast into a higher state.
The faster you go, you'd need a submarine,
Dive into my odyssey at an atmospheric pressure,
surf your tongue on my waves, control and rule through my waters, glide into it as if you were Poseidon.
The more I try to drift, grasp into my hips, gravitationally pull me closer.
Bring out the best in me, discover my hidden golden treasures.
Make my moans flow into harmonies, medlodies, creating instrumentals as if you were hitting the chords of a piano..
forcefully hit my keys as I rapidly reach capacity.
As I strongly Gripp & pull your ***** roots, flowing deeper and deep.
The deeper you go, drum into me, create rhythmic beats..make me feel it in my body.
From your light, your touch I'll gladly address you as my highness.
Bless me up as we puff and pass nature from the Earth, then may we fall asleep in silence.

Solis
Songs for Judah
Takes me to my knees
Spiritually
Instrumentals
Tell a tale
Not soon to be forgotten