Today I decided to go to my crib.
I then invited my homies to bid
that Lamar is goin to bring his kid.
So while I'll be chillin here popin some lids,
I noticed none of my homies have come to my crib,
not even Lamar and his kid.

So I tried actin all cool,
until I saw a small red pool.
I soon found myself a fool
by following that pool.

I found two brothers who were smothered in red.
One was dead,
and conceived a decapitated head.
It was Lamar who was stained red.

The otha brotha seemed to be a kid.
I said, "Why would you do somethin like this."
He said, "you will never find the otha bodies I hid."
I soon found my homies did make it to my crib,
Every single one of them were hung by the head.
They were all there except for Lamar's kid.

[Intro: Big Sean]
I look up
Yeah and I take my time, *****
I'mma take my time, whoa
Power moves only, *****

[Verse 1: Big Sean]
Boy I'm 'bout my business on business, I drink liquor on liquor
I had women on women, yeah that's bunk bed *******
I've done lived more than an eighty year old man still kickin'
Cause they live for some moments, and I live for a livin'
But this for the girls who barely let me get to first base
On some ground ball ****
Cause now I run my city on some town hall ****
They prayin' on my *******' downfall *****, like a drought, but
You gon' get this rain like it's May weather
G.O.O.D. Music, Ye weather
Champagne just tastes better
They told me I never boy, never say never
Swear flow special like an infant's first steps
I got paid then reversed debts
Then I finally found a girl that reverse stress
So now I'm talkin' to the reaper to reverse death
Yep, so I can kick it with my granddad, take him for a ride
Show him I made somethin' out myself and not just tried
Show him the house I bought the fam, let him tour inside
No matter how far ahead I get, I always feel behind
In my mind, but **** tryin' and not doin'
Cause not doin' is somethin' a ***** not doin'
I said **** tryin' and not doin'
Cause not doin' is somethin' a ***** not doin'
I grew up to Em, B.I.G. and Pac *****, and got ruined
So until I got the same crib B.I.G. had in that Juicy vid
*****, I can't *******' stop movin'
Go against me, you won't stop losin'
From the city where every month is May-Day at home, spray your dome
****** get sprayed up like AK was cologne for a paycheck or loan
Yeah I know that **** ain't fair
They say Detroit ain't got a chance, we ain't even got a mayor
You write your name with a Sharpie, I write mine in stone
I knew the world was for the taking and wouldn't take long
We on, tryna be better than everybody that's better than everybody
Rep Detroit, everybody, Detroit versus everybody
I'm so ******' first class, I could spit up on every pilot
The city's my Metropolis, feel it, it's metabolic
And I'm over ****** sayin' they're the hottest ******
Then run to the hottest ****** just to stay hot
I'm one of the hottest because I flame drop
Drop fire, and not because I'm name dropping, Hall of Fame droppin'
And I ain't takin' **** from nobody unless they're OG's
Cause that ain't the way of a OG
So I G-O collect more G's, every dollar
Never changed though, I'm just the new version of old me
Forever hot headed but never got cold feet
Got up in the game won't look back at my old seats
Clique so deep we take up the whole street
I need a ***** so bad that she take up my whole week, Sean Don

[Bridge: Kendrick Lamar]
Miscellaneous minds are never explainin' their minds
Devilish grin for my alias aliens to respond
Peddlin' sin, thinkin' maybe when you get old you realize
I'm not gonna fold or demise
(I don't smoke crack, ******* I sell it!)
*****, everything I rap is a quarter piece to your melon
So if you have a relapse, just relax and pop in my disc
Don't you pop me no ******* pill, I'mma a pop you and give you this

[Verse 2: Kendrick Lamar]
Tell Flex to drop a bomb on this ****
So many bombs, ring the alarm like Vietnam on this ****
So many bombs, make Farrakhan think that Saddam in this *****
One at a time, I line them up
And bomb on they mom while she watching the kids
I'm in a destruction mode if the gold exists
I'm important like the Pope, I'm a Muslim on pork
I'm Makaveli's offspring, I'm the king of New York
King of the Coast, one hand, I juggle them both
The juggernaut's all in your jugular, you take me for jokes
Live in the basement, church pews and funeral faces
Cartier bracelets for my women friends, I'm in Vegas
Who the **** y'all thought it's supposed to be?
If Phil Jackson came back, still no coachin' me
I'm uncoachable, I'm unsociable, **** y'all clubs
**** y'all pictures, your Instagram can gobble these nuts
Gobble **** up til you hiccup, my big homie Kurupt
This the same flow that put the rap game on a crutch (West x6)
I've seen ****** transform like villain Decepticons
Mollies'll prolly turn these ****** to ******* Lindsay Lohan
A bunch of rich *** white girls looking for parties
Playing with Barbies, wreck the Porsche before you give them the car key
Judgment to the monarchy, blessings to Paul McCartney
You called me a black Beatle, I'm either that or a Marley
(I don't smoke crack, *******, I sell it)
I'm dressed in all black, this is not for the fan of Elvis
I'm aiming straight for your pelvis, you can't stomach me
You plan on stumpin' me? ***** I’ve been jumped before you put a gun on me
***** I put one on yours, I'm Sean Connery
James Bonding with none of you ******, climbing 100 mil in front of me
And I'm gonna get it even if you're in the way
And if you're in it, better run for Pete's sake
I heard the barbershops be in great debates all the time
Bout who's the best MC? Kendrick, Jigga and Nas
Eminem, Andre 3000, the rest of y'all
New ****** just new ******, don't get involved
And I ain't rocking no more designer ****
White T’s and Nike Cortez, this red Corvettes anonymous
I'm usually homeboys with the same ****** I'm rhymin' with
But this is hip-hop and them ****** should know what time it is
And that goes for Jermaine Cole, Big KRIT, Wale
Pusha T, Meek Millz, A$AP Rocky, Drake
Big Sean, Jay Electron', Tyler, Mac Miller
I got love for you all but I'm tryna ****** you ******
Trying to make sure your core fans never heard of you ******
They don't wanna hear not one more noun or verb from you ******
What is competition? I'm trying to raise the bar high
Who tryna jump and get it? You're better off trying to skydive
Out the exit window of 5 G5’s with 5 grand
With your granddad as the pilot he drunk as **** trying land
With the hand full of arthritis and popping prosthetic leg
Bumpin Pac in the cockpit so the **** that pops in his head
Is an option of violence, someone heard the stewardess said
That your parachute is a latex ****** hooked to a dread
West Coast

[Verse 3: Jay Electronica]
You could check my name on the books
I Earth, Wind, and Fire’d the verse, then rained on the hook
The legend of Dorothy Flowers proclaimed from the roof
The tale of a magnificent king who came from the nooks
Of the wild magnolia, mother of many soldiers
We live by every single word she ever told us
Watch over your shoulders
And keep a tin of beans for when the weather turns the coldest
The Lord is our shepherd, so our cup runneth over
Put your trust in the Lord but tether your Chevy Nova
I’m spittin' this **** for closure
And God is my witness, so you could get it from Hova
To all you magicians that’s fidgeting with the cobra
I’m silent as a rock, ‘cause I came from a rock
That’s why I came with the rock, then signed my name on the Roc
Draw a line around some Earth, then put my name on the plot
Cause I endured a lot of pain for everything that I got
The eyelashes like umbrellas when it rains from the heart
And the tissue is like an angel kissin you in the dark
You go from blind sight to hindsight, passion of the Christ
Right, to baskin' in the limelight, it take time to get your mind right
Jay Electricity, PBS mysteries
In a lofty place, tangling with Satan over history
You can’t say **** to me - Alhamdulillah
It’s strictly by faith that we made it this far

My dad and his friend driving out to the pasture to sit in the pickup truck and talk about what?  How the cows are doing, the upcoming hunting season, growing quail, fishing, the state of the country.
I don't know what these men talked about but they spent hours together.
While they were out talking Eunice and Marie sat smoking in the living room, discussing stuff. I could sit and listen to them for hours, but don't remember what they talked about. Maybe Marie would get out one of her poems or show my Mama some of her ceramics or paintings.
We girls would dance together the bop to the latest 50's music or we would ride our horses through the pastures and at night we would play Scarin' with their brother-a hide and seek game in the dark.
We spent every weekend together, eating greens, fried cornbread and chicken.  I always thought I was Marie's favorite because she was always so kind to me. She was a kind of Earth Mother, quite different from my own Mama.  Sometimes Sonny, the boy, would get in trouble because we girls would tell on him for throwing corncobs at us. Then Marie would go after him with a skillet, a switch or a paddle, whatever was handy.
Lamar had been in WWII and had been too close to a grenade. He developed terrible skin cancers which left horrid scars on his face. When I was 15, he died and Marie started working in the Catholic School so the three kids could still attend.
Here we were the Baptists (us) and the Catholics (them) never realizing that our friendship in rural Mississippi was a bit unusual.  Mama would lend her Bible to Marie because the Catholic church did not allow the people to read and interpret for themselves at that time.  
When we were really young, the family lived in an old unpainted two-story house with Lamar's Dad-Cap'n-a strict old grumpy German who we tried to stay away from.  We would come up from Louisiana when I was four and spend the night for the nine months we lived in Louisiana.
Saturday night baths were in a tub-four girls first, then Sonny last-he was a boy and the dirtiest.  No running water and a two-seater outhouse. Those were the days...

Cloud nine, Kendrick Lamar, uh
I take a sip of Hennessy and then get pissy drunk
I ain't a drinker, I'm a thinker, call it what you want
But if you turn your back, know that you just missed your chance
to witness the realest **** that's ever been told to man
I found myself losing focus at a Sunday service
Embarrassed so I started questioning God, what is my purpose?
He say to live the way he did, that's all he want from me
Spread the word and witness, he rose on the first Sunday
I said alright, enthused that my Lord gave a listen
I opened my bible and searched to be a better Christian
and this from a person that never believed in religion
But ****, my life is so ****** up man, I can't help but give in
I'm giving testimonies to strangers I never met
Hopped on the pulpit and told 'em how I was truly blessed
Felt like I'm free from all my sins when the service was over
Walked out the church, then got a call that my homie was murdered
and lost my faith again

[Chorus: BJ the Chicago Kid]
What am I gonna do? Gotta have faith
Life is too much, understood? Where is your faith?
Oh, faaaaaaaith...
All you need is the size of a mustard seed

[Kendrick Lamar]
Single black parent from Compton raising children of four
That's four innocent *******, cause papa they don't know
Her day consists of working back and forth with babysitters
Can't find no one to watch her kids so she pay her sister
Her baby daddy ain't bout ****, that ***** ain't bout ****
Spent his daughter milk just to cop a new outfit
She pray to God every night hoping that he'll mature
and maybe one day his kids, something that he'll live for
Baby wanna go back to school but she need some help
because it's hard tryna pay the bills when you're by yourself
She thought about credit card scams till she heard a voice
that said the Devil is a lie, make a better choice
And so it's back to McDonald's and every month dealing
with them crazy *** people at the county building
Looked to the heavens and asked 'em to make a better way
Then got a letter in the mail, lost her section 8
Then lost her faith again

[Chorus]

[Punch]
Kendrick, I appreciate the opportunity to vent my *****
This about how faith works, yeah, murk it...
I had dreams of holding a nine-milla to raise Killa
Ask him why as my eyes fill up
Each day it gets more realer, orangutans bang like gorillas
It's jungle when the ****** ensue
The rat's lurking, vulture's circling the serpents
Cats lying through they teeth, my ***** didn't deserve it
I flirted with the idea of caressing the steel
to make karma come faster than she normally will
It's ill, to see my faith try and leave me
It's so hard to get it, to get rid of it is easy
I'm tryna reach cloud nine, that's what my ****** bout
But it never rain in California 'less them pistols out
Until then, my feet planted on the ground
Shadowboxing my conscience till my faith start responding
And if I get no answer, just know I tried
I should have never looked into his son's eyes
Ray Charles voice

[Chorus]

[Kendrick Lamar]
This for my people that stressing whenever times is hard
Your mind's slipping, wondering is there really a God?
Knowing you shouldn't think that way and tryna freeze your brain
But whenever it's pain, that feeling forever remains
We can't believe what we can't see and reality seems stronger than prayer
cause you tried to change your life, and now you live in a wheelchair
And your son was born with cancer and he live in urgent care
at the tender age of twelve, and you feel that no one cares
Searching for answers, that's human nature, you ain't in the wrong
Just know, when you feeling that way his spirit's in the room
I watched people I know pray and catch the Holy Ghost
and wonder why I ain't never caught that feeling before
Maybe they know him better, or I don't know no better
But what I do know is that he's real and he lives forever
So the next time you feel like your world's about to end
I hope you studied because he's testing your faith again

I'd rather not live like there isn't a God
than die and find out there really is, think about it

Liturgy in Time of War

I will go to the altar of God
To God who gives joy to my youth

ENTRANCE ANTIPHON

The dawn (evening) is coming, another hot, filthy, wet dawn (evening).  Let us arise, soaked in sweat, exhausted, to speak with sour, saliva-caked mouths, to meet the deaths of this day (night).

GREETING

In the name of Peace in Our Time,
For the Hearts and Minds of The People,
For the Land of the Big PX
For round eye and white (black) (brown) thigh,
I greet you, brothers.

PENITENTIAL RITE

All:

I confess to almighty God
And to you my brothers
That I have sinned through my fault
In my thoughts and in my words
In what I have done
And in what I have failed to do,
And I ask Blessed Mary…

But how can I ask Her anything now?

My brothers,
Pray for me to…

But how?
Priest: (But there is no priest)

KYRIE

Lord, have mercy
Christ, have mercy
Lord, Lord, have mercy on us now

Have mercy, Lord, on a generation
That sits smugly in college lecture halls
And protests endlessly in coffee shops
The war they hear, see, on T.V., for free
Justice and peace by the semester hour
Like, y’know, peace, love, Amerika sux
Play the guitar, ****, apply to law school

Have mercy on us
Who crouch behind sand bags
And clean our weapons
And protest nothing
And **** in the heat
And die in the hear
And throw ham and lima beans away

GLORIA

Glory to God in the highest
how many bodies yesterday?
And peace to His people on earth
Vietnamese? Or us?
Lord God, heavenly King, almighty God and Father
ham and lima beans?
We worship you, we give you thanks, we praise you for your glory
Doc, I can’t go home to my wife with this clap
Lord Jesus Christ, only Son of the Father
cigarette, canteen cup of instant coffee
Lord God, Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world
******* magazine
Have mercy on us
relief behind the sand bags
You are seated at the right hand of the Father
i rot
Receive our prayer
i want to be clean and dry
For You alone are the Holy One
clean and dry.  just once.
You alone are the Lord
why do they chew that?
You alone are the most high
you mean the betel nut?
Jesus Christ, with the Holy Spirit, in the glory of God the Father
incoming!
Amen


PRAYER

A

Father, you make this day holy.
Let us be thankful for
The many little joys of
This day, for life, for
The chance to worship
You.  In the end, bring
Us to you, so that we
May be cleansed of mud
And sweat and filth and
Guilt, and live with you
In peace forever.

B

Father, just get me through
Another day of this mess.

LITURGY OF THE WORD –

FIRST READING

From the Intensive Care Unit, NSA DaNang

A twilight world
Of neither peace nor battle
And of both

A man world
Embracing life and the grim death
Both

Peering into infected wounds
Night building shiver
Down from the black sky flares float

Broken bodies from the war somewhere
Eyes of a shattered nineteen-year-old Marine
Staring at the door to Yokosuka

PSALM

A Song of Descents

I cast down my eyes
Into the mud
Into the blood
It seems cleaner than death and drugs and casual ***
Drink Coca-Cola

I turned my eyes away from you, O Lord
And made this
Build this
Came to this
Samantha and Darren on Bewitched

Have mercy on…but how can we ask?  How dare we ask?

SECOND READING

Old Man, Viet Nam

Old man, a dog is barking at your heels
Old man, with the tired, weathered face
Are you afraid to turn around and deal
This dog a kick, to put him in his place?

Or is it, old man, that you’re just too tired?
Just too tired to turn and show anger
Just too tired to have your temper fired
Beaten by years of contempt and danger

Where are you going, trudging so slowly?
What are you thinking, behind those tired eyes?

Probably not about ham and lima beans

GOSPEL

In the Cold White Mist

After an all-night run on the river
Our boats arrive in the village at dawn
Dawn is never cold along that rive
Along that steaming, green, hell-hot river
But the mist is cold, the grey-green dawn mist
And after the engines are cut – stillness
Foul brown water laps at the mudding bank
Sloshing softly with fertile, smelly death

In the cold white mist

The boats are secured, and watches posted
We step off the boats and onto wet land
And follow the track into the deep mist
It becomes the street of a little town
A dairy lane along which cows slopped home
And where dogs and chickens and children
      played
Bounded by carefully swept little yards
And little wooden houses with tin roofs

In the cold white mist

But some of the houses are burnt.  The smoke
Still hangs heavily in the whitening mist
The lane is littered with debris.  A lump
Resolves itself into a torn, dead child
Across a smaller lump, a smaller child
Their pup has been flung against the fence, its
Guts early morning breakfast for the morning
      flies
We smoke cigarettes against the death-smells

In the cold white mist

Beneath a farm tractor rots a dead man.
When they – they – had come at sunset
He had hidden there.  And they shot him there
A man with bare feet and work-calloused
      hands
His hair is black; his teeth need cleaning
They shot him beneath the village tractor
His blackening blood clots into the mud
And our lungs choke in the white mist of death

In the cold white mist

White mist.  The path disappears into it
Smoky skeletons of little houses
In which there will be no tea this morning
No breakfasts of hot tea and steaming rice
No old widows to smile in betel-nut
No children to mock-march alongside us
Pointing at our ******* boots, and laughing
At us, for wearing shoes in the summer

In the cold white mist

They are dead and rotting in the white mist
On the edge of the jungle on the edge
Of the world, here along the Vam Co Tay
And the people pour out of their houses
To greet us on the fine summer morning
A corpse across a doorway, another
******-doubled across a window sill
Still another strewn down the garden path

In the cold white mist

The other patrol doubles back to us
And they tell us that the Ruff-Puff outpost
Must have been overrun the night before
He had heard their radioed pleas, and had
Run the river at night to get to them
And the ARVNs had fled through the village
And the VC had stormed in behind them
And it was knife-and-gun-club night in town

In the cold white mist

A little girl is the lone survivor
She looks may six.  Cute, except for the
Bubbling, *******, bayoneted chest wound
We patch her, and tube her, and use suction
Sort of like fixing a bicycle tire
And in the wet, gasping heat take her back
With us downriver, where a charity
Hospital leaves her on the steps to die

In the cold white mist

It will be our turn again tomorrow
Not a one of us died today.  Today.
But a village is gone, burnt and rotting,
Soon to disappear into the jungle
Along the green Cambodian border
Up some obscure river.  Up there.  Somewhere.
A few hundred people.  Their ancestors’ graves
Will fade with them untended, forgotten

In the cold white mist

Radio Hanoi might blame it on us.
But maybe not.  We made our report and
Nobody really noticed; no one cared
The talk is of the VC battalion
And where it has gone, and where it might go –
Maybe into death under an air strike
“And you guys better get in some sack time,”
Says the C.O. as he turns to his maps.

In the cold white mist

HOMILY

I’m scared, and I want to go home.  I don’t care any more about justice or fighting Communism or winning the hearts and minds of the people.  I can’t think about all that right now, because I’m scared, and I want to go home.
I don’t care about truth or loyalty or bravery or honor.  If Miss March were here she wouldn’t get cold, but she sure would get sunburnt.  And in a few days her skin would start rotting.  Then nobody would want to see her in the **** anymore.  
I’m scared, and I want to go home.
Up the Vam Co Tay, everyone is scared, everyone is tired, everyone is sick, everyone could die: sailor, soldier, officer, priest, farmer, fisherman.  Everyone rots in the wet heat.  The skin bubbles and flakes and peels, and is pink again, to bubble and flake and peel again.  
I’m scared, and I want to go home.
I’m Doc.  I’m a scared, stupid kid with an aid bag and a few months’ training.  But I’m Doc.  I’ve got to fake it.  I’ve got to be cool and calm because this other kid with his guts hanging out will probably make it if I don’t ***** up and if the dust-off from Saigon can get out here now.
I have an old dog at home, and my folks write and tell me she sleeps outside my window at night, waiting for me to come home.  Someday we’re going to run and play in the woods and fields again.  She’ll bark and run wide circles, and dare me to catch her.  I will laugh under the autumn leaves.  But now my nights are glaring darkness, fits of sweat-soaked half-sleep, then sirens and falling glares and falling mortars, and then the Godawful racket of all our engines of destruction.  There isn’t any use in all this.
I’m scared, and I want to go home.

And I don’t want any ham and lima beans.

CREED

We believe in the Land of the Big PX
In presidents in suits, and generals,
In makers of economic strategies
We believe in flak jackets and .45s and peace

We believe in swing ships and dust-offs, yes
In the dark, green omnipresent Huey
Eternally begotten of technology
Blades to rotor, windscreen to machine guns
Made, not begotten, one in being with us
Through it all things are transported to us
For us men and our hunger and our hope
It comes down from the skies
By the high power of technology
It was born of the long assembly line

For whose sake are we crucified today?
Who suffers, and who dies and is baggied?
And on the third will arrive back home
To be neatly packaged in stainless steel

But not in ham and lima beans

LITURGY OF THE EUCHARIST

Preparation of the Gifts

Celebrant:

Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation.
Through your goodness we have this cheap Algerian wine to offer,
Fruit of the vine and work of human hands.
It will become anaesthesia for our souls.

People:

Blessed be…we just don’t know

Celebrant:

Pray, brothers, that our sacrifice may be acceptable to God, the almighty Father, to somebody.  Maybe.

People:

May the Lord, or the baggies, accept the sacrifice we offer with
our own burnt hands
For the praise and glory of…of what?
For our good, and the good of all His Church.

PRAYER OVER THE GITS

Little green cans, and I don’t care
Little green cans, and I don’t care
Little green cans, and I don’t care
Air cover’s gone away.

EUCHARISTIC PRAYER

Preface for the Monsoon Season:

Father, all-powerful
And ever-living God,
We do well always and everywhere
To give You thanks
Through Jesus God our Lord
Even with diarrhea
thanks
When the mail doesn’t come
thanks
When we rot
thanks
When the heat ***** at our brains
thanks
When the mud ***** at our boots
thanks
When the horror ***** at our souls
thanks
We’re alive
thanks

SANCTUS

Holy, holy, holy, Lord, God of power and might
The bunkers are full of blood and death.
Hosanna in the mud.  Blessed is he who comes with the mail.  Hosanna in the mud.

EUCHARISTIC PRAYER

The Kien Tuong Province Canon:

A sailor is silhouetted against the dawn
Along a steamy river
Mostly helmet and flak jacket
Above dark plastic gunwales

The sailor has lost his New Testament
But there’s a ******* around somewhere
Naked, willing women –
Miss March wants to be an actress

He also carries an old plastic Rosary
To touch occasionally
While whispering a hurried Hail Mary
He hopes She understands

Those who in bell-bottoms and head-bands
Fight Fascism
In Sociology 201
Will never forgive him

A sailor is silhouetted against the dawn
This day he is to be elevated
His body broken and his blood shed
For you and for all men

OUR FATHER

Our Father, who art in Heaven
this ain’t it
Hallowed be thy name
Thy kingdom come
this ain’t it
On earth as it is in Heaven.
Give us this day…
not ham and lima beans
And forgive us our trespasses
as we shoot them that trespass against us
And lead us not into ambush
But deliver us from evil

SIGN OF PEACE

Peace on you.

AGNUS DEI

Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world: have mercy on us.

Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world: have mercy….

Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world: grant us peace.

Priest:

(But there is no priest)

People:  

Lord, I am not worthy to receive you,
But only say the word and I shall be killed.

COMMUNION ANTIPHON

They ate, and were not satisfied
They killed, and were not without fear.

PRAYER AFTER COMMUNION

Lord,
If we do not get out of this
Make some sense of it to those who remain
May we go home.  Home.  Or if not,
Take us unto you, in mercy.
Home.  Where you reign, for you are Lord
Forever and ever.  Amen

BLESSING

May you walk on grass that does not explode
May you sleep without rot
Without fear
May you never see or smell ham and lima beans again.
May you live
May you play with puppies
May you find forgetfulness
May you find peace
In the Name of Him who took your death for you

DISMISSAL

This is to certify that____is Honorably Discharged from the____on theday of____.  This certificate is awarded as a testimonial of Honest and Faithful Service.

CLOSING HYMN

Old men, smoking in the sunshine
Exiled outside the doors of life
Old uniforms, old pajamas
The chrome of wheelchairs, shiny, bright

Inside, polished wooden handrails
Line the hot, polished passages
Something to cling to on the way
To the lab, to x-ray, to death

And more old men, shuffling along
In a querulous route-step march
From Normandy, from The Cho-sen,
From the Vam Co Tay, from the deserts,
Past the A.I.D.S. ward and the union signs
On waxed floors to eternity

Portions previous published:

“Closing Hymn” is from “Outpatient Surgery – Veterans’ Hospital,” Juried Award, Houston Poetry Fest 1993

“In the Cold White Mist” is a Juried Award, Houston Poetry Fest 1991

“Old Man, Viet-Nam,” was published in Pulse, Lamar University, 1982

A Lamar Original

Honey, I know that times are hard
And the moments like these are tough,
So let me reassure why we shouldn’t be apart,
And allow our future be dictated by love.

Baby, every night before I sleep
On bent knees to God I pray
For the hearts we have to not leak,
Because he has brought all this way.

We can succeed if we give this a chance;
I can see us growing old and grey,
Looking back on this very day;
We made it beyond our own recession romance!

Honey, I know that at times you feel alone,
And the world can be such a crazy place,
But that doesn’t mean you have be on your own,
I just hate to see the stress on your face.

Baby, everyday after I wake
With closed eyes to God I pray
For the hearts we have to not break,
Because if it’s his will, together we’ll stay.

We can ascend if we give this a chance;
I can see us with laughs and smiles,
After all the tribulations and trials;
We overcame our own recession romance!

Even if we have little money, little work,
All I need is you, honey, for what it’s worth...

I imagine, this is what I’ll trademark
The impossibly early morning commute
I’m still drunk
It’s 6AM
And I’m still wearing my shoes

My phone sings with an urgency
It ferries the exhausting burden of responsibility

It’s 6AM
I’ll keep reminding you
Or myself
Because I have to

sigh

****

I have to make The Commute

6am

My body hangs from my brain
In a disjointed way
A detached manner
Like a consciousness manifesting through a coma

If I could forge the willpower
Gather some strength in my arm
To push my phone off of the desk
And silence the alarm

I’ll regret it in some way
Not even a second thought considered
It wasn’t even a hard decision

7:20am

As I inhale, and sigh
For maybe the seventh time
I’m suddenly aware
That in this very moment, I’m being held prisoner
I’m being forced to make a choice
I’m being forced to consider

My mind is awash in the buzz of last night
And the fade of this morning

Austere
Varying shades of whites & greys
Ohio in December
Ohio, the way I’ll remember

This is bleak
Wearing all of my previous evening
Inside and out
I feel like sandpaper
I smell like 3am
Friday night
Saturday morning
It’s Monday morning
And its a dreary 7:30

7:32am

I’m wearing this to work
This is how well I wear exhaustion
I’ll flaunt it in a professional setting
In a professional manner
A white collar show & tell

I’ll groom the bare minimum
But I MUST shave my face
Just to save face
So it doesn’t look like I have a drinking problem
Because I don’t
I just like to party

I treat my body like a machine
It’s regarded like a car I can’t afford to keep gas in
But I can afford to drive to New York at night and explore

A special kind of neglect

7:35 am

A single apple
A bowl of cereal
A bag of chips
Some energy to pursue The Commute

Literally, running on fumes
Literally, every morning
Between 6am to 1pm
Literally, running late
Everyday

Responsible living escapes me

7:41am

GO! GO! GO!
I hit the basement
I braced my knees
I covered my hands
Adjusted to bike the streets

Covered in gear
Drunk and exhausted
The idea of just staying here
Is so attractive and real

I can ******* doggedness
I can still taste the air in my bedroom
While I’m in the basement
I can also taste….unemployment
So, I go.

7:45am

Bleak
Varying shades of whites & greys
Ohio in January
Ohio, all the time really
Atleast it has the feeling
Biking in the elements

The air I breath stings something awful
In my chest
Ice cubes
In my breath
Snowflakes

The blue collar effort
Two feet of snow
And its still coming
This workout//THE COMMUTE
For a white collar job
Dealing with billing disputes
The upkeep of my finacial cause

I’m a pest
The snow is deep
Almost up to my knees
I’m a menace
I’m an obstacle among perpetual obstacles
And we’re all just trying to avoid each other

MARKET//MAIN ST.

As I start to pick up speed
My body begins to adjust
My senses waken up
And narrowly avoid
This, assaulting Mack truck
Speeding on a 10speed
Down the wrong side of the street

Whoops.

I’ve got no choice really
I can’t see or hear what’s behind me
Behind my own panting
And Kendrick Lamar’s ranting
So down the opposite side of the road I go
Around Mack truck smoke & mounds of snow

I reach the edge of the street
And depending on the day of the week
And how generous those patrons are, of St V
I could exercise the sidewalk

No such luck,
So, **** it
I’ll fight traffic
I’ll keep to the streets
And dogde the fleets

This is the real challenge
This is the adventure…
Side to side with traffic
Hand in hand with danger

Car horns & headlights
This lifestyle might really **** me

7:42am
Oh, hey look
Another *******
Middle aged driver
Righteous anger
Righteous motorist

STOP!
It was on Old Main St.
At 7:47am
I was almost on the news
This is a stanza of dediction to the man in the grey Toyota
I’ve developed wonderful instincts
I almost died
This man sped through the incorrect traffic light

So I stopped!
Or else I would’ve been on the news
At roughly 8:38am
Vehicular manslaughter would probably be the charge
Probably a hit and run
I would not have stopped either
I’m this ******* in the middle of the street
On a bike
I’m an early morning, urban menace

I hit the pavement

Desolate
Varying shades of whites & greys
Ohio in February
Ohio all the time really
Atleast it has the feeling
Sprawled, laying in the elements

My mind is awash in the buzz of the night
Before
And the fade of this morning

*******!
I’m shouting now
On the ground, at the sky
In the snow, to the ice
At these ******* motorists, at my ******* bike
A special kind of entitlement

I was born in the wrong state, in the wrong place

I hit the pavement
I skinned my knees
And scraped my hands
Numb & exhausted
The idea of just laying here & giving up is so attractive and real
But I can’t…because bill$

I treat my body like a machine
I regard it like a toy I can’t put down
Even if I choose
If afforded the chance, I wouldn’t know what to do

Dreary
Varying shades of whites and greys
Ohio in March
I won’t even ******* start

8:01am

I show up to work
Half drunk and overworked
Sleet and snowy down my side
And rehearse this white collar ritual
After my blue collar effort
I’m so ******* tired

Living on the edge has this embrace
Like something most people couldn’t stomach
Most people aren’t built for it
Most people aren’t meant to

Don’t take this as a challenge, gentle tweeter
Or take it as one
I’m not saying it can’t be done
I accomplish this, twice a day, four in a row, and roughly an odd fifth one.

Priti Patel's quote on EU migration - whatever it was...
list of common surnames: cropper, cross, crouch,
dabney, dalton, daniels, eads, easton, eccleston,
fairclough, farnham, fay, gardner, garey, garfield,
haight, hanes, hailey, ibbott, irvin, isaacson,
jack, jackson, jacobs, kay, keen, kelsey,
lacey, lacy, lamar, macey, mann, marchand,
neal, nelson, neville... sure pati japati patel -
i'll be an albino in Gujarat
if your play the sitar in a sari;
but your name sounds a bit migrant
revealing, what a weird 'back of the bus'
you seem to stand on -
you want the Mongolians resurrected?
i swear we were being ousted in line
of what Queen Sheba said to Solomon:
'olive skinned throughout the geography
and the unwelcome green men on
sponged-knickers creaming for an ******
a french dessert...'
yes pretty prior, you found home on a
continent when half of the european nations
didn't practice colonial antics -
i guess it's easier to pick on them.
but with a Patel surname you sound british
already, the great experiment worked
the anaesthetic of former colonialism
numbed via recreational Ketamine use
really numbed the skull and jaw mandibles -
i hate, i hate being conscripted into
post-colonial affairs of "why it all failed"
what a waste of the urban hubs of
Manchester or Liverpool -
where once artistic expression thrived -
i hate these post-colonial societies,
it's as if they were castrated en masse,
and they're wondering why no one has a permanent
suntan in scandinavia - maybe the raw herring diet -
cinnamon up your ***, magician's trick with
space between fudge of digestion, disappearing trick
but then the cough that blinds you sweetly -
i guess post-colonial nationalism wanted to
listen to non-colonial nationalism -
a former migrant like pretty plated smell
olive skinned exploited inversion of angers
but dunked a footstep into a trip-up
with non-colonial nations -
a bit like the greek bail-out - pretty patel
is a name least likely associated with migration;
you teasing the beast out?

A Lamar Original

I owe an apology to you
Not just any apology, but one from the heart;
Sincere and so very true,
That I was nothing without you taking part,
Part in my life, part in my world;
You are more than a woman, my lady, my girl;
You mean more now to me than life itself;
Your voice seizes in my soul like a web;
As it reverberates in my mind,
How could I leave that behind?

An entire world that I longed to see,
A complete woman that belong to me;
Baby, I saw losing you hurt me worse,
Because my world revolves you, Miss Universe.

I owe you an explanation or so,
Not only one for you, but for each lady,
Who have sacrificed their hearts and souls,
As you devoted your all to men so shady,
So shady your feelings, to your essence,
I took for granted the value of your presence;
What a fool to think that I had it all, boo,
But I realize now that my all is you;
As it echoes in my heart
How could we truly part?

An entire world that I longed to see,
A complete woman that belong to me;
Baby, I saw losing you hurt me worse,
Because my world revolves you, Miss Universe.

Sometimes we like to do something for the story
we’ll tell afterwards. Buy a ’58 Pontiac, climb
a mountain in the dark. Lamar tells ***** jokes
with class, knows how to wait awhile, bend
a syllable and savor the laughter. We go on

with our absurd work, building a fence miles long
waste of steel and strong straight lodgepole pine
but even I don’t opine against it anymore. We’re
self-acknowledged children, fence is play and
livelihood also, but something cheerful as sunshine

for all the death it costs. There is so much life
a little death doesn’t matter. We stretch our muscles
the men feel like men, the women feel good too.
We stand around, watch a young rabbit one morning.

For seven days
We lived
But we were
Told that we
Could only rest
For three nights
Each could choose our
Own nights
For the first three
Days we enjoyed
this new life
Then Marie
Died
Another day
Thomas and Juliette
They died together
After finding love
Next day
Alex died
I'll miss him
Halfway between days
five and six
Three more died
They died
Screaming
For life
There's so few of us
Left
Just me
Lamar
Mira
And Jackson
At sunset on the sixth day
Mira tripped
And fell
Into the river
Lamar jumped in
To save her
We never saw them again
I am scared
Because I can't
bear to be awake
Any longer
If I don't rest
I will past out
That will be
My final night of rest
Tomorrow
I will die
I know it
But what of Jackson
He has rested
Only once
Will he live
Past our seventh day
The sun is rising
on my last day
of life
Jackson holds me
As the last of
The life
Leaves me
I'll see you tomorrow
he whispers

Poignant prose chucked out and recycled by morning.
Turned out trick repeated til boring.
The local band just started touring.
Sonnet's blasted until the ladies are 'whooring'.

...

Roxy Music dropped David Byrne.
For Ellie Goulding and a remix of burn.
Robert Johnson's been reworked.
Ratatat rap as interest is perked.

Dylan picked up the silent game.
Making ambient noises which all sound the same.
The Rolling Stones joined the church.
After buying some of Hoosier's merch.

Nicki Minaj claps her ****
Laying down a tribute for Terry Fox's stump.
Benefit concert soon to be run.
By the played out Glee Club composing Fun.

Beach Boys dragged in with the tide.
...And Stars Collide.
NOFX has gone clean
Fat Mike's gone and become a dean.

Tom Waits stomps out to Kendrick Lamar.
Hacking up bits of blunt induced tar.
Bumping out in Steve Ellison's car.
To Captain Murphy's karaoke bootlegged from a bar.

...

Less than 10 good tapes a year
Even fewer if referring to those others actually hear.
Jack White's gone third eye blind
Getting over run by his drug free mind.

Hello, York Suburban! It’s great to be here today, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be...speaking...than right here...with all of my awesome classmates. I can’t believe we made it here, you know, this was a really great experience, going through school and everything. Back in the day, before our generation became obsessed with social media and electronic stimulation, I used to have a past-time that I greatly enjoyed. I don’t practice this...practice, much anymore, but back when I was young, I used to watch cable tv a lot. I know, I’m really dating myself here. When I say dating myself, I mean, we’ve been dating for a little over 18 years, myself and I, that is. Anyway, watching tv, yes, and when I used to watch tv, I saw what our media portrays as a usual high school life. And much like everything the media portrays, I later found out that high school is nothing like how it is portrayed. I used to think it would be a bunch of young adults standing around, talking about each other, with each other, waiting a few tenths of a second for the studio audience to start laughing, that part was definitely only on tv. (If no laughs, move on. If laughs, say, maybe it wasn’t only on tv). Anyway, yeah, they were all standing around talking on tv, so young, gullible me, I thought  I would just stand around and talk for four years. In order to prepare for this activity known as high school, I proceeded to wear what I thought everyone wanted me to wear, I only expressed myself when I thought I should, not when I wanted to. And for my first year, that was about all I did, more or less. I was scared at first, I was defensive and I loved my life back then, but my life was motivated by fear way too much. My whole life changed after that like the sun changes the sky when it rises. There was a light that came into my life, or should I say, the light came from within myself. I had revelations about my motivations, my beliefs, and how I wanted to live my life. Once I started being who I wanted to be and making choices that were good for me and were the choices I wanted, I started to love myself. During my time at York Suburban, thanks to all of the amazing people I interacted with, I learned to love my life more and more every day. I learned that if I continued to express myself, I would increasingly love myself as well. Expressing yourself is so important because it doesn’t just build your confidence, it builds you! When you express yourself, you learn what you like and don’t like about yourself, and that’s what happened to me. Even though a lot of my high school career was unfortunately spent alone, or feeling isolated in some way or another, I really loved watching other people express themselves and have fun. I always wanted everyone to express themselves more because I learned that I love watching people express themselves, it’s the most beautiful behavior I’ve ever seen and that will never change. I learned so much from every person I had the privilege of interacting with, so thanks everyone, you know, that was really great. I love you all! And that won’t ever change. But I can’t promise I’ll remember all of your names, and I don’t expect you to remember many either. Kids these days, you know, always overstimulated by media and smart phones haha. But when you leave, really take yourself with you! Take yourself and hold on to what you love within yourself. That’s enough, you don’t have to hold on to any memories here. Siddhartha Gautama (also known as Buddha) once said, “Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.” It’s sad to leave this all behind, but leave it all behind. It’s ok to be happy and remember the good times, but I love you all, I want you to succeed! Don’t just remember memories, create memories! Keep changing yourself, changing people around you, and changing the world until your body runs out of energy! That’s all I ask. I’d like to thank all of the employees here at York Suburban High School for giving our class a healthy and constructive environment, full of excellent role models, and good life lessons. And thanks to my family too, especially my brother Max, he’s really cool. Also, check out my Hello Poetry account, Nick Gati ;) haha. I had to plug at least one electronic media account, this is our generation! And before I leave, I would like to recite a rap that I wrote.

Class of 2015
Let me say what I mean
I’ve been inside this machine
For four years and I’ve seen
People loving and hating
People giving and taking
People in boots shaking
People with hearts breaking
I’m like Kendrick Lamar without the beats or the fame
I’ve got rhyme and time, I’ve got pride and shame
It took me too long to make my life mine
It took me too long, but I’m right on time
I love being weird here before you all
I love it so much, but let me take this call
“Hello? I am currently giving a speech
Before I go to IUP to learn how to teach.
I’ve gotta speak these bars to try to communicate
How all we need is love, we don’t need any hate
So let me hang up, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
MY WHOLE LIFE has been consumed by too much sorrow
It was hard, at times, to navigate my way
I had times where I’d go days not knowing what to say
Until I found all the answers written in my mind
Until I changed myself and became one of a kind
Thank you all for letting me express myself
And express yourself too, leave your pride on the shelf
Love people, love life, and remember these words,
Life is about listening and letting others know that they’re heard

A bitter ****-fest of lollapalooza.
Burn(ing) me, man. but don't taze me, bro.

If I got high on legalized substances, am I still escaping?
Metaphoric endorphin rushing as patio furniture sits silently,
slowly choking as I fill it with my own ***.

I haven't written in so long, because I lack some passion.
I haven't written verbal joust in the form of bitter tongue because I felt it lacked restraint.

I ****** with a straight jacket; it felt great.
Perpetual virginity, a fool's errand running.
I have my V-card still; kind of... it's stunning.

I left a can of gasoline at an alien's house.
I came back and fire had engulfed what was left of my sorrows.

"I thirst," said He, the savior of the world.
Let's all ignore the singing signs of everything, boys... girls...

I have not a word to say in recompense for exploitation of your idiotic murmurings.
Well done, my good and faithful burdenings.

I can't speak to what hasn't yet been said,
but I can sure as hell guestimate, that we'd probably all be dead.

This **** ain't free.
Thank you, Kendrick Lamar, for reminding me.

This is me unfettered.
This is me unchained.
Give me a pen and some paper:
this **** will get strange.

I am Fred Astaire with a **** so fine, you'd think it's aged wine the way it twirls and floats.

Breaking up is ******, now put this poem down your throat.

(Inspired by Kendrick Lamar – humble )
Whacked or weepiness?
Sing if you know this,
Well~ yuh, yuh.

Hey, I recall when every months with zero-balance-curse,

Therefore I lived my life with what I fit, but today I’m so ******,

When everyone gets what their want; In fact, I never wish,

I choose drink mix while you choose Crème de cassis to rid live’s blemish,

"Son, the richest man never get outta debt hub,
Duh, compare to you with just one luckless credit card?"

So let’s be rich with heart and do something bigger than Tesla,

Do read on my blog, then write it down or by heart at least,

Zero-to-the-hero, hero-to-the-pro punk,

a person who used to be dumb, dumped in the **** junk,

now 6 figures in the bank, I'm still like yesterday’s punk,

If you got this in the bank, promise to be like an old punk,

my life’s better than my virile,

my future promise me how I rolled,

Hey Mount. E, wait for me to reach your highest spot,

but I’m just play cool to it, cuz you know

Beast’s humble,
Sweet lown,
Be hierodule,
throw your crown.

Who talk money over passion won't be richman,

The dream you ever sketched, belongs to trash can,

The dream you never twig, just a goodnight,

Just do for what you love for your loved wife,

Just what you said you do it to get a better job,

Say something to me you'll be iron man like louis cyr or,

Say something like you are immune from all snide remarks,

Everyday you and I should celebrate the 'go for broke day',

I'll 'Die trying till get there',

Pave the way for success stair,

everything's gonna be okay,

God not just hear from your prayer,

He bestow for what you care,

So stay calm and feel the air,

Dont called it work - called it play,

And say "Never say ne'er",

Hardwork means modest, stay low profile, and rich heart way,

Mamma said dream big, protect it from apart, stay,

Be like the strongest humblest person in the world, OK?

I'm the strongest orphan after all, boom! beast's humble, --

-- Sweet Lown,
Snob's crumble,
Don't drown.

A Lamar Original


Instead of being the Americans
That none chose to remember;
Let us become the America
That fondly glows with splendor.


No longer will we attack an America
That has the smidge of craft,
If we must attract the Americans
Who have to bridge the gap.


Great opportunity does not come,
Because we inhabit America;
Great opportunity does so come,
Because America inhabits us.


America,
This is the land of the free,
And we must prosper as one,
If we wish to continue to be…
In America,
The land of the free.


Instead of bringing forth an America
That rejects all faces;
We will bring forth Americans
That respect all races.


No longer will we charter an America
That greeds all day with favor,
If we must harbor the Americans
That bleed all day from labor.


For it is not how we live in this country
That determines the fate of our lifetime,
But it is so how we live in this lifetime
Which determines the fate of our country.


America,
This is the land of the free
And we must prosper as one,
If we wish to continue to be…
In America,
The land of the free.

Uh
I heart haters *******
N spectators
Congratulations
You just assist my promotions
**** a notion
I rock flows tighter than ya ***** clothes
N ***** hole
Bump Lamar n J Cole
Cnotes of **** at least in the bowl
Never will i fold
Them critics be  suspicious ridiculous
On my **** cuz its so delicious
No diamonds are precious here
I make cumbulus clouds drop tears
Another fear
Sent by me cuz im ya nemesis
Takin' on all of the genesis
Its beginnin' of my slaughterhouse
Created the world in six days
On the seven i came out the crud of clay
Judgment day
When they see me they pray
Lile Muslims givin' honor Mecca
Ultimate wrecker microphone check
One two im.comimg with words that spew
Turn leechers face blue you n yo crew
Can catch a contact
But cant numb me my raw raps
Leave you guessin' n stressin' im a blessin'
In disguise close ya eyes
Say with me " im the best"
Just before i give you a pass
I put 3 in ya chest
For tha holy the father and the son
Never disrespect the don corelone
Kiss my rings when you see me
When i spit on the mic
They nostrils flare glare
and quote
"it's the ghost of
B--I--G"

Why yall sportin' honeys
Im flashin' money
By the ton like CBo
My career shine like Glo Mo
Movin' so fast
Got my critics in slow mo
you ******* can kiss the rain bow
******* check how my **** hangs low
**** slow spit sloppy
We gettin' busy in a bugguati
Killuminati got my own imperial
We makin' mad loot
Clockin' our own serials
My team dangerous in guns we trust
Not God wipe out the must
Get away cleab if ya kniw what i mean
Dip the scene extract the cream
From these powder puff emcees geez?
Why so much of em
Try to talk hard but end up of roughin' em
Now they in bluff
I say quick prayer shots off to the head
Dome put em to rest the best
To ever mic test mic murderer natural born killer
Im deservin' tha
Praise keep eyebrows raised yall gettin' played
I sprayem with my venom like raid
Like roaches they only come in the dark
Once i put the spark
They clear out of the park
My rolex gets ***** with ease
Pack desert ease
If ya wanna test I'll make chest sneeze
Oozin' with blood soaked clothes
Now count them holes
Embedded passin' me forget it now ya admitted
To I C U now i see you gaspin' for breath
Close ya teary eyes be prepared for death as i..



Welcome to me too.
Thanks for coming in high-altitude, if you're really into them.
There are new-tutorials, and I'm not going to need one.
Why not do the news? I love plain and simple.
Free-market sloping losses will do this;
because of bipartisan politics.
Luyendyk news is crowded by Audi's and by partisan politics;
I don't like my partisan politics.
Star tutorials are tutorial-soon.
This is a new tutorial for my into being given to the jury
in tutorial.

People present their uh dreams,
and a jury room is like love;
a little atmosphere me in a circle,
meaning we are (he is) related to the moon .

I'm the serving the Newburgh tutorial right now
around this one:
The new green play I'm into.
This one’s just a little on the Brumbies
cuz glass needs it to learn.
I am the circus mom pursuing your doom;
a mistaken rampant around jug-glass John,
inputting the bar’s shiny leading to the bottom-thanked step.
Number one is singing your doom on.

Be an unloaded nerd, like a dump truck dumping dirt into our hearts
while holding the whole lamar,
and perfecting the bar starting with p.
Put on the range
near the whole ecosystem in a in a bubble.
Second thing you gotta do is earn it,
you do this, but we plan to our dirt up to nine innings.
love things American
like me
in the new godliness.

99 dramas trapped under so now I'm a real utah zombie,
and lines,

I'm not one at times to be easily loved, I'm also not one
you could quickly hate. I still appear afraid, even with a
brave face on. I could be romantic, but I might not have the
right words in person. I think a lot about ***, but feel comfortable
on the thoughts of still being a ****** (sometimes)

I'm not always moved by the crowd, or like to follow trends.
I'm photogenic, mixed with social anxiety amongst the unfamiliar
faces around. I barely raise my voice; sadly won't always be so manly.
I value family, though mine is so divided. Their subtle rude
humour is a form of love. I have it too, so I hope you don't mind it.

My music taste is a wide tongue of different genres.
Artic monkeys, Twenty one pilots, Frank Ocean, Kendrick Lamar,
Hippie sabotage, Bach, Earth Wind & Fire, and one or two songs
by Rihanna. I prefer to listen on my own—in the sense of bluetooth
speakers filling my anxious anxiety. At least with earphones on,         I feel free playing with full volume. And writing poems in great variety.

I'm learning to cope with long hugs, but just ease off from the
sides. It's a fight of being overly sensitive to touch; or me
liking those tingles at times. Or maybe I'm saving my sensitive
parts for a future wife. I try to swallow my pride, but it's like
a knife, cutting me from the inside. I've thought about suicide too
many times. Passions being only imaginative in my mind. A gift
with a curse behind, so unkind.

I'm unlike my father, only with his temper at better control.
They say my looks come from my mother; but my character
definitely is a mix of both.

I'm weird, humble, funny, emotional, girly (sometimes)
cautious, moody, caring, charismatic, shy, awkward, the worst
dancer (without a couple drinks in me) calm, wise, and still
finding out more about myself.

                                         Yep! That's basically me. (Messy Entirely)

In the wise words of Kendrick Lamar
I love myself.
Who is it that I see high up on that shelf?
Oh, just myself.
I choose not to love another person yet,
Till I can love myself.
So as a result,
I abandon my search for love,
And I will let love search for me.

Cupid isn't as stupid
As we have been told.
So while my life is a dream in lucid
I will wait till I get old.
For the one to fill my heart,
And promise to never break it apart.

Sometimes you need to lay back let the stress fade away
it's Christmas time anyway no need to make the skies seem grey
Instead be thankful for what you got
and say one good prayer for those that have not

So now I'm gonna just kick back and relax
put some Sade, Kendrick Lamar, Maybe even The Beatles on blast
inhale on the good and exhale all that bad
I've lived to see another day, that's enough reason to be glad

(Inspired by Kendrick Lamar)

Whacked or weepiness?
Sing if you know this,
Well~ yuh, yuh.



Hey, I recall when every months with zero-balance-curse,

Therefore I live my life with what I fit, but today I’m so ******,

When everyone gets what their want; In fact, I never wish,

I choose drink mix while you choose Crème de cassis to rid live’s blemish,

Son, the richest man never get outta debt hub,

Duh, compare to you with just one luckless credit card?

So let’s be rich with heart and do something bigger than Tesla,

Do read on my blog, then write it down or by heart at least,

Zero-to-the-hero, hero-to-the-pro punk,

a person who used to be dumb, dumped in the **** junk,

now 6 figures in the bank, I still like yesterday’s punk,

If you got this in the bank, promise to be like an old punk,

my life’s better than my virile,

my future promise me how I rolled,

Hey Mount. E, wait for me to reach your highest spot,

but I’m just play cool to it, cuz you know



Beast’s humble,

Sweet lown,

Be hierodule,

throw your crown.

We get told that Slavery was a lie
I’m crying on the inside
Because on the outside all you see is my complexion
But as Kendrick Lamar says, “Complexion don’t mean a thing.”
Learn from this
I’m not one to miss
There are so many like me
That get lost in the abyss
Of hatred
Of Racism
Of ignorance-of pride
I’m done getting tossed to the side
My feelings are relevant
They’re not fantasy
I just don’t understand why you can’t see-
Scratch that I do
Y’all don’t want to admit
That I’ve caught up to you
I know I’m the ****
You don’t want to hear the fact that you’re wrong
Ignoring a person’s struggles is making the white man strong
He wants this! He wants my pain
He feeds off my struggle, my cries for help are in vain
I try to ask for but get pushed aside
For the next black person to stand in line
Our feelings are legitimate
They’re like a covenant
Between what I want and what is now
Now we have black boys and girls slaughtered like cows
We don’t matter to this country
Our lives are dark matter
That’s why we chant “Black Lives Matter!”
Please just listen
I don’t know how much more I can take
I need someone to understand
That blacks are a dying race
Our culture’s being taken, assimilated
While millions of us are incarcerated-
Please listen!
I don’t know how much more I can take.

Hope you pull through Lamar

Looks like this time

You went too far

Your dad was an addict

And so are you

It's terrible what drugs can do


You seemed like a decent guy

But with all your money

You did buy

Apparently alot of crack *******

In a coma now

What a shame


Millions of dollars

People who cared for you

You wasted it all


Like humpty dumpty

You had a great fall


I hope you pull through

Only God can fix you

Let’s pay homage to many innocent black lives that were taken by
the corrupt system:  Martin Luther King Jr.  Malcom X.  Emmett Till.  George Stinney.  Will Brown.  Sandra Bland.  Trayvon Martin.  Ahmaud Arbery.  Breonna Taylor. George Floyd.  David McAtee.  Natosha “Tony” McDade.  Yassin Mohamed.  Finan H. Berhe.  Sean Reed.  Steven Demarco Taylor.  Ariane McCree.  Terrance Franklin.  Miles Hall.  Darius Tarver.  William Green.  Samuel David Mallard.  Kwame “KK” Jones.  De’von Bailey.  Christopher Whitfield.  Anthony Hill.  Eric Logan.  Jamarion Robinson.  Gregory Hill Jr.  JaQuavion Slaton.  Ryan Twyman.  Brandon Webber.  Jimmy Atchison.  Willie McCoy.  Emantic “Ej” Fitzgerald Bradford Jr.  D’ettrick Griffin.  Jemel Roberson.  DeAndre Ballard.  Botham Shem Jean.  Robert Lawrence White.  Anthony Lamar Smith.  Ramarley Graham.  Manuel Loggins Jr.  Wendell Allen.  Kendrec McDade.  Larry Jackson Jr.  Jonathan Ferrell.  Jordan Baker.  Victor White III.  Dontre Hamilton.  Eric Garner.  John Crawford III.  Michael Brown.  Ezell Ford.  Dante Parker.  Kajieme Powell.  Laquan McDonald.  Akai Gurley.  Tamir Rice.  Rumain Brisbon.  Tony Robinson.  Mario Woods.  Quintonio LeGrier.  Gregory Gunn.  Akiel Denkins.  Alton Sterling.  Philando Castile.  Terrance Sterling.  Terrence Crutcher.  Keith Lamont Scott.  Alfred Olango.  Jordan Edwards.  Stephon Clark.  Danny Ray Thomas.  Dejuan Guillory.  Patrick Harmon.  Jonathan Hart.  Maurice Granton.  Julius Johnson.  Jamee Johnson.  Michael Dean.  Keith Childress.  Bettie Jones.  Kevin Matthews.  Michael Noel.  Leroy Browning.  Leroy Nelson.  Miguel Espinal.  Nathaniel Pickett.  Tiara Thomas.  Cornelius Brown.  Jamal Clark.  Richard Perkins.  Michael Lee Marshall.  Alonzo Smith.  Anthony Ashford.  Dominic Hutchinson.  Lamontez Jones.  Rayshaun Cole.  Paterson Brown.  Christopher Kimble.  Junior Prosper.  Keith McLeod.  Wayne Wheeler.  Lavante Biggs.  India Kager.  Tyree Crawford.  James Carney.  Felix Kumi.  Asshams Manley.  Christian Taylor.  Troy Robinson.  Brian Day.  Michael Sabbie.  Billy Ray Davis.  Samuel Dubose.  Darrius Stewart.  Albert Davis.  Salvado Ellswood.  George Mann.  Jonathan Sanders.  Freddie Blue.  Victo Larosa.  Spencer McCain.  Kevin Bajoie.  Zamiel Crawford.  Jermaine Benjamin.  Kris Jackson.  Kevin Higgenbotham.  Ross Anthony.  Richard Gregory Davis.  Curtis Jordan.  Markus Clark.  Lorenzo Hayes.  De’Angelo Stallsworth.  Dajuan Graham.  Brandon Glenn.  Reginald Moore.  Nuwnah Laroche.  Jason Champion.  Bryan Overstreet.  David Felix.  Terry Lee Chatman.  William Chapman.  Samuel Harrell.  Freddie Gray.  Norman Cooper.  Brian Acton.  Darrell Brown.  Frank Shephard III.  Walter Scott.  Donald “Dontay” Ivy.  Eric Harris.  Phillip White.  Dominick Wise.  Jason Moland.  Bobby Gross.  Denzel Brown.  Brandon Jones.  Askari Roberts.  Terrance Moxley.  Anthony Hill.  Bernard Moore.  Naeschylus Vinzant.  Tony Robinson.  Charly Leundeu “Africa” Keunang.  Darrell Gatewood.  Deontre Dorsey.  Thomas Allen Jr.  Lavall Hall.  Calvon Reid.  Gerdie Moise.  Terry Price.  Natasha McKenna.  Jeremy Lett.  Kevin Garrett.  Alvin Haynes.  Artago Damon Howard.  Tiano Meton.  Andre Larone Murphy Sr.  Leslie Sapp.  Brian Pickett.  Frank Smart.  Matthew Ajibade.

There are so many more that have died at the hands of the prejudice system.  All of you will never be forgotten.  Your legacy will forever live on.  Rest in Paradise to the fallen angels.

Well they talk about the treatise,
They talk about the pigs from Lamar, they keep
Their furnace raw and kids on the move. Some wreak their havoc in swords, others burn their denim and gold. They've got their names in stone, and the sour-**** blues. Wrapped up in methodical and squared from an irregular obtuse. It helps sometimes to keep the furnace alive, the girl's red, raw, and juicy too. The night can keep the fury alive, but it pays to keep your sword sharpened too.

Stressless, relaxed, vacated, now accept this invite,
Walk by faith and let's explore your spiritual side,
Take my hand as we go, we don't need to step behind,
You know, baby, finding you took a long very time.


What a beauty and it is my duty
To protect and provide for you,
Like no other man can ever do...


I am that man, I am your man,
I will be through thick and thin...


It's your faith, you can exercise it if you want to,
You may strengthen it if you need to,
Or we can pray if that's what you want to do.



Just let me show you love, if you still believe,
There is no need to be afraid and agree
That I can provide good celibate therapy,
Yes, baby, nothing like real genuine celibacy.  


Baby, drama free is the only way to live,
All this love is waiting for a wife for me to give,
When I share my soul and body with that queen,
I guarantee life will be better than any dream.


Ha ha ha ha,
Doctor Lamar is here still for you,
Ready admit you to the Floor of Virtue...


There's no prayer than one in the candlelight,
You don't need to pray alone in this fight,
When temptation, baby, has you against rope,
I would just encourage you back to cope.


It's your faith, you can exercise it if you want to,
You may strengthen it if you need to,
Or we can pray if that's what you want to do.


Just let me show you love, if you still believe,
There is no need to be afraid and agree
That I can provide good celibate therapy,
Yes, baby, nothing like real genuine celibacy.  


Girl, it's your faith,
We can talk this talk as long all night,
Girl, it's your faith,
Or we can walk the walk as we like...


It's your faith, you can exercise it if you want to,
You may strengthen it if you need to,
Or we can pray if that's what you want to do.


Just let me show you love, if you still believe,
There is no need to be afraid and agree
That I can provide good celibate therapy,
Yes, baby, nothing like real genuine celibacy.

I do not own rights to this instrumental. Shoutouts to Kendrick Lamar for being an inspiration!! For the official video and to hear the audio version. Please check it out!!!


https://www.instagram.com/tv/CLRxvNUlzLR/?igshid=1pa89sywo67mi


[Lyrics]
All of us feeling blue
Looking at the sky
Staying above the water!
Gotta Change your ways
Or get caught up karma!
This human body means nada!
Got no time for the drama!
Not another fall
I'll end it all!
How this prove
I am a real father?!
A kunna matatta...
No worries for
any of my days.
I was stuck in a phase!
Been losing myself to old ways.
Never trip  on anything
a ***** gotta say.
Lyricism and worldplay
always been my forte.
Swear on Gaia, you ain't real
Y'all do this for play-play
Y'all gotta Listen
So we can
Run The World
Like Beyonce! (aye)
Y'all swear, ya'll ready
for the Truth!
Straight out the gate
Time to let the beast loose!
Most of y'all stay on the run
Making moves.
Isaiah a prayer
He'll restore-salvation
to our youth!
Pray to all gods his
vision come true!
Try him if want...
See what happens to you!

No matter how dire it gets,
no matter how despairing,
no matter how forlorn, how hopeless,
no matter how little reason there seems to be to go on,

Kendrick Lamar spat fire and spoke truth,
at least for a few years,
as did a few hundred other contemporaneous artists
who laid it down on the track.

Emily Dickinson
did not stop for death or thee,
but prolifically tackled issues
of universal import in her lapidary recluse's verse.


Chakaia Booker turned shredded tires into museum centerpieces,
hunted spirits, eluded the chimera of consumption,
forged reclaimed rubber into toughness,
a rough-hewn canvas for a displaced people.


You can have nothing going for you,
nothing substantial to look forward to,
nothing above to guide you,
nothing but averted eyes on the street and professional shame,
but still be transported away
by a few glorious minutes of song or poetry or sculpture.

When there's nothing else, there's always art.
No matter what, there's always art.