Muslim, Catholic, Atheist, yellow, black, white, men, women, and children. We were all born to this world for a purpose, yes, but is this the world we were destined to obtain? A world full of discrimination, biased by our religion, color, nationality, and gender. Is this really something that will forever be bearable? Or are others just too blind to see what is our real purpose in this world?
Being a Catholic does not automatically make you a good person. Being white does not make you rich, nor does it give you full rights to everything. Being an Asian does not make you smart, being a man does not give you power, and being a child does not make you innocent. Man is such a grave fool; yet some are simply pure loons. Biased by ourselves, we turn to those who have power, fame, fortune; looking beyond reality, and creating the true problem with humanity.
But I don't know. That's just me, I'm only a human being, and I have my own opinions. But who knows? Maybe one day, people like you will find a slight sense of humanity. Until then, don't you dare ever say that we are the same.
there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day
and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace
those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love
beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect
like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
their finest art
My flock, there are wolves among sheep!
They covet your work, your thoughts--
The bastardly thieves prey on the meek!
The fruit of your labors is sinfully sought!
Their treachery gives rise to a witch hunt!
Seek them out and banish the devils,
For they won't ever quit this ungodly stunt!
They must be exorcized for these evils!
Damnation awaits prophets with false tongues!
Have thou no shame for such slothful sin?
I wish your hands pierced through with prongs,
Until the day you can admit wrongs within!
Ostracize the heathens as they should be--
Sentence them to solidarity for eternity!
They deserve no piece of Heaven on HP,
For their plagiarism instills enmity!
Brethren, I preach, "Thou shalt not steal!"
Do not suffer their sins in such silence!
Rise up, and show them how you feel--
We will rage against the fools in defiance!
We are the forgotten ones
The ones who can articulate
beyond the guns and knifes.
We don't need a beat
Our word flow through emotionally.
We are here to capture and decipher minds
Teach them all those things school has left behind
How history is only written by the victor
How there's more to blacks than Rosa Parks, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr's his..tory.
Let's not leave out the truth.
Poets stand up, fight for the youth.
We share our truth about love
Let's share the truth about knowledge
Forget the cliches of if life gives you lemons make lemonade.
We freed ourselves from the British.
Then enslaved Africa and made them forget who they were.
Only of Britain would had thought of that first.
Let's not sugar coat the past
Let's control the present and the future.
Poets stand up
We are the symphonies of hip hop, rap and r&b;
We are the class.
We are the Billy Holliday and Marvin Gay of this new era.
Like the fitted cap we fit snugg.
Poets stand up.
Fuck speaking on unicorns and rainbows
The sunny side of the chi.
Just last night my Lil man's got shot by the cops.
I use to say he was my son
Now I plan his funeral with his mom.
Poets stand up
Bloods, crips, gangsters, thugs re unite as the black panthers.
Poets stand up!
Poets stand up!
As they say ok ok your 15 seconds of fame Is up. No more from you today Mr. Ananymous.
A good friend with a basset-hound face is on his feet
The rest of us are weak
as newborn puppies,
from the late hour, the numbing glory in our lungs
But, mostly from laughter.
This young man is a connoisseur of altered states, an apprentice butcher, and one of the chosen few who breath music in and out effortlessly
And he's preaching
Three minutes before,
he had been happily day dreaming
Three feet from the floor
with the boob-tube beaming
The man on the set shows us how to stir-fry chicken
Our mouths water, but we're content to sit.
But with the fire coming up that glass pipe
and setting his boiler to churn along feverish
He caught an insight
or it snared him, like a spiderweb across a peaceful hiking path
On his feet
He was beginning to see connections
And had to share them with someone
I'm a limp doll at this point, fully immersed in the body-high
Thoughts are glacial, movement glacial
Oh, my friend.
You're talking to the wrong audience
We can't hope to see it as you do.
But he keeps on keeping on.
And tells us a thing or two.
Is like sex.
As our laughter dies down to a dull roar, he continues
The speeds and heats and intensities can all vary
to give you countless subtle differences.
But the true constant is care
Loving attention to the finest detail.
His brows furrow, his toes test the fibers of the rug
and he glances back up, and I imagine a podium in front of him.
Or maybe it's like Jazz. He says.
We learn, or glean out, how things are supposed to happen
But in the moment, the twanging instant
Beautiful things will themselves to exist
and they defy all well-laid plans.
I practice what preach, and pray to God with closes eyes. Praying he watch over me through happy and hard times, and that he is there even I can see him with open eyes, I feel his presence by my side. No evil weapon forged against, will equal my demise. Instead of killing, multiply my strength 1,000 times.
Practice What you Preach.
Human characters are a real puzzle,
Sing in one tune but the music is different.
Constructive thoughts yet destructive acts,
New year wishes with festive greetings.
Preaching peace and communal harmony,
Even as chaos reigns in each communal street.
How can fire and water be mutual companions?
Revolutionary thoughts but deceitful tactics.
New year wishes laid on so thick and bright,
May the expressions in public become the private practices.
Oh, ye, who dare to slander rhyme and meter—
I call tho’ to stand before me and lay claim
as to why tho’ carelessly dare tempt my anger?
Who amongst tho’ is not a blasphemous bleeder?
I sayeth unto you, your faces will be to blame
when the Devil appears before you as a stranger!
You, who thinks yourself 10,000 times a man,
will be reduced to a worm, writing in flames!
‘Tis my hands that keep you from burning!
Surely, tho’ do not comprehend, nor understand
what awaits the sinners for their grievous games!
The wheels of Hell are yearning—churning!
Rivers of vengeance, held back by frayed strings!
Sickly stitched across the mouths of amnestic oceans
where the souls of the Damned go to drown!
Tho’ doest not know what agony acrimony brings!
Shed thine own self of such caustic notions,
Unless ye wish to suffer a downward spiral down!
Down! Down into the furnace of pain, epitomized!
Falling! Falling and plummeting towards mouths
gaped open; awaiting those with wicked souls!
He will be rendered of euphoria and demonized
for all eternity as his soul is dragged down south!
Smoldering purgatives surely will inflict Hellish tolls!
Repent, lest you forever be consumed by ghastly fire
and lost to 10,000 times the pain you inflicted!
Insidious insects held so closely over white-hot coals!
Do not lose your soul, because you were lost to ire!
I stand before ye, preaching to all the wicked!
Sinners in the hands of an angry poet; save your souls!