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"revolutionist" poems
Imagine a world with no discrimination A world living in harmony comprising of peaceful nations The only colour reference would be made to nature Humans will no longer be judged on their nomenclature Such is a dream seen by all But Sir Mandela was the one who took the call On July 18, 1918, a hero was born But due to his colour all everyone did was scorn No one in his family had ever attended school He was the first one to break this rule On the first day of school their teacher gave them an English name This was an African custom due to British bias – how mundane And that is how Nelson became his first name He kept it even after he shot to fame A member of the African National Congress He gave his opponents a reason to stress A great politician, revolutionist, lawyer and philanthropist Served 27 years in jail but never used his fist Although a controversial figure for most of his life He won the Nobel Peace Prize for ending the South African apartheid strife On December 5, 2013, this giant passed away The things that we can learn from him are a lot more than I can say
0
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 10:30 AM UTC
Nelson Mandela
The enemy's at the gate, He's black, white, brown, yellow He's Muslim, Christian, Jewish, Atheist, Buddist, Hindu. He's, a revolutionist, a communist, a capitalist, an extremeist, a terrorist, an infidel He's got, cluster bombs, weapons of mass destruction, heat seeking missiles, the atomic bomb. He's going to **** your women, burn your house down, eat your children, and drink your blood. REMEMBER THIS AT THE POLLING BOTH AND VOTE ONE------FEAR! 8th November 2010
0
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 3:37 AM UTC
Vote one --- Fear!
Prelude, Skin was scorching, Prickling our naked ankles. Whispers of passion—amounting to the indefinite. Excitement overriding fear. Your smirk—it was scorning my wit, but all the while I was spinning— Trying to outdo you. Challenging the norm of lovers before me, despite those many warnings. And yet, here I am, brushing against your infamous lips, Having more intentions than I care to share with you, Because I will be the exception. I, a determined revolutionist bent on transforming your philosophy. The inevitable vulnerability, the alleged helplessness found by your touch— You were all talk, and nothing I couldn’t handle. _____________ Interlude, Something encroaches now. A force unplanned. It violates me. It breaches the wall of my veins. Slithering, swimming — A parasitic force of which I was convinced I was immune. Biology’s symbiotic model; forever tainted by our act. For many a love was given in primal flesh, yet goes unrequited in spirit. I believed I could break this cycle. I, the revolutionist Believed I could topple your deeply set pride. I believed I could crack your shell and pull out the viscera, Bleeding, pulsating in between my fingers, and let the mass slide from my hands To fall upon your chest, floundering in plain view. I imagined that your eyebrow would raise, your lips would part to form a Contorted grin, you would sigh, and then admit, “Nicely Done.” I believed you would be impressed. I believed you would be impressed… ______________ Epilogue, Wit is waning. Skin is cold, rotting… and wasting. My beautiful body is rotting. And I cannot admit that you were right, Lest I would rot more quickly. Still unyielding to your claims, Only so you not think of me as fragile, Not because I think I may win. Clinging to the hope that you may someday learn to love This broken, yearning body. This fallen revolutionist— All along a convenient satiation of flesh.
0
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 5:07 PM UTC
a revolutionist
Prelude, Skin was scorching, Prickling our naked ankles. Whispers of passion—amounting to the indefinite. Excitement overriding fear. Your smirk—it was scorning my wit, but all the while I was spinning— Trying to outdo you. Challenging the norm of lovers before me, despite those many warnings. And yet, here I am, brushing against your infamous lips, Having more intentions than I care to share with you, Because I will be the exception. I, a determined revolutionist bent on transforming your philosophy. The inevitable vulnerability, the alleged helplessness found by your touch— You were all talk, and nothing I couldn’t handle. _____________ Interlude, Something encroaches now. A force unplanned. It violates me. It breaches the wall of my veins. Slithering, swimming — A parasitic force of which I was convinced I was immune. Biology’s symbiotic model; forever tainted by our act. For many a love was given in primal flesh, yet goes unrequited in spirit. I believed I could break this cycle. I, the revolutionist Believed I could topple your deeply set pride. I believed I could crack your shell and pull out the viscera, Bleeding, pulsating in between my fingers, and let the mass slide from my hands To fall upon your chest, floundering in plain view. I imagined that your eyebrow would raise, your lips would part to form a Contorted grin, you would sigh, and then admit, “Nicely Done.” I believed you would be impressed. I believed you would be impressed… ______________ Epilogue, Wit is waning. Skin is cold, rotting… and wasting. My beautiful body is rotting. And I cannot admit that you were right, Lest I would rot more quickly. Still unyielding to your claims, Only so you not think of me as fragile, Not because I think I may win. Clinging to the hope that you may someday learn to love This broken, yearning body. This fallen revolutionist— All along a convenient satiation of flesh.
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48
Without the audience I am nothing. If I believed that there was no one out there who was listening or who cared or who loved or who chose to listen I mean read I would be a desiccated pear I would be a tired excuse of a shoe. I have to know that I am better than nothing. If I received no feedback at all, no encouraging words from friends, Sometimes I don't know if I would do it if I would press on and walk and write and rebel and destroy and rebuild and light up then burn out. Sometimes I sit and I think about nothing. and honestly it's great to know that nothing is something and maybe I am something or nothing or a mouse or a servant or a shoe or a revolutionist or an egotist or a ********** or I am a perfect uttered silence a ****** quiet or maybe I am Jack's shiner, his swollen-shut eyelid but maybe just maybe I am there for a chivalrous reason and I got just one good lick in or maybe I didn't and I took one like a ***** but I walked her home and I kissed her and she liked it and I did too And I am nothing, And I know this. What I'm saying is, I wouldn't be able to sleep. What I'm saying is, I hope I'm something you'll keep. What I'm saying is, keep reading and I'll keep breathing. What I'm saying is, and I'll shout it in powdery tones What I'm saying is, don't make me be alone.
0
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 10:16 PM UTC
the Audience
You think you are such a revolutionist. So urban, so very hipster You think these people are you are fascinated by the mindless babble that is coming out of your mouth-that you don't even seem to understand. You love to hear yourself talk, and could carry on a conversation, by yourself, but you need the nonsensical nods and approval of others. You are really just an empty shell. Through the demonstrations to explain the complex things that only you pretend to understand, you are really just a pretentious ******* who is just as mainstream as the rest of us because you are sitting in Starbucks, Wearing brand new Converse.
0
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 12:39 AM UTC
Oh Hipster You
They took me back to 1967 Where I was A raging narcoleptic & a traveling belly dancer For the Indian circus A closet anti-war revolutionist, You met me In the dust storm of the Reenactment of History in the making I think at first I only Liked you Because we'd had the Same dream About elephants and Talking stars Could you have loved me then?
0
Dec 19, 2011
Dec 19, 2011 at 1:57 AM UTC
.the age of optimism.
let me remind you: know that i am the scream i am the protest i am the revolution i am the awakening of every black leader every protester every revolutionist every poet every writer that has breathed and lived and paved paths and immortalized and cut scathing with their art that has cut swaths through rivers that have tunneled through caves that have smeared wet earth on their faces that have picked through the foliage on mountains know that i am every woman who has bled for her child know that i am every foreign tongue that has unbound us know that i am every unshackled and raised fist know that i am a woman know that i am a black woman i am every black queen i am not a display i am not an object i am not something to be coveted you have no right to salivate over me you have no right to stitch lust into my skin you have no right let me remind you: i am a black woman soft, wild, and free
0
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 2:02 PM UTC
a-simple-reminder
”Are you in?” said the revolutionist “Or are you out?” said the gambler “What are you on?” said the pusher “What are you about?” said the philosopher “What are you of?” said the professor ”Where are you at?” said the explorer *“Do you feel?” said the poet
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Aug 24, 2021
Aug 24, 2021 at 6:03 AM UTC
Do you feel?
I will not conform to your ideal. I will not follow the footsteps of those ahead of me or those behind me. I will not copy the beliefs of my peers Unless I agree of course. For I have my own mind, my own style, my own grace, My own pace. I walk the way I wanna walk And I talk the way I wanna talk. And I feel the only way I know how to feel, With passion, power and a delicate strength. If you are so lucky to see... I will not groove to the sound of your music, If it’s not to my beat. I will not laugh at your jokes To be in your good seat. I will not play in your colours, If you’re not in my team. Because I can jump and kick about, Or stay silent in my dreams. I am not trying to be a rebel, renegade or revolutionist Being different is all the same. I’m not going out of my way to defy, disregard or disagree. I am an influencer, influencee, influenced. I am a piece of all of you And I am a picture of no one I believe everyone makes mistakes. I believe we can all be a disgrace . I believe we can all fall into the same trap. I believe once and a while we can all snap. What I believe you may not agree. What I say you may not relay. But you might just remember this, I believe being wrong is a right.
0
Apr 17, 2010
Apr 17, 2010 at 4:18 PM UTC
Being Wrong Is A Right
Still running from the police While the streets screaming For peace I see more and more brothers layin on the Streets covered with white sheets Dont ask me why I got hate in my heart for the law They been fuckin' us Since slavery and they say we free But that ***** lady liberty Never gave me my papers And yea im . Kickin us dust Put my trust on my own **** self Packin' mad ammunition With a fully auto matic ak on the shelf So go ahead and get mad Yall cant **** me my spirit will revenge thee I know martin marched the battle And malcolm showed em the black fist Which proves they scared of a revolutionist Now drop all you crooked *** cops 187 Leave society wailin' And ill still be bailin' Now that im fresh on bail There always a snitch to tell Runnin' to the law Gets you a fractures jaw And 200 lbs of body with a razor Straight to ya throat Check ya air pressure Times goin' flat on ya back Hopin' to make it death couldnt break it **** em There always a cain in the neighborhood Even though We have our ups n downs We still somehow hold each other down Cant trust noone even ya family Members be buggin' Still muggin' At twenty eight in the mix Sippin' on tangeray or the henny With a spliff to match that On the waist a eight pound gat **** up if ya want too And watch death come hunt you So just play it cool fool I aint tryna say im the baddest But i gotta defend mine Especially to punk *** one time Meanwhile im still sailin' Ocean coastin' Breakin' the bells of liberty Still bailin'
0
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
STR8 bailin'
Still running from the police While the streets screaming For peace I see more and more brothers layin on the Streets covered with white sheets Dont ask me why I got hate in my heart for the law They been fuckin' us Since slavery and they say we free But that ***** lady liberty Never gave me my papers And yea im . Kickin us dust Put my trust on my own **** self Packin' mad ammunition With a fully auto matic ak on the shelf So go ahead and get mad Yall cant **** me my spirit will revenge thee I know martin marched the battle And malcolm showed em the black fist Which proves they scared of a revolutionist Now drop all you crooked *** cops 187 Leave society wailin' And ill still be bailin' Now that im fresh on bail There always a snitch to tell Runnin' to the law Gets you a fractures jaw And 200 lbs of body with a razor Straight to ya throat Check ya air pressure Times goin' flat on ya back Hopin' to make it death couldnt break it **** em There always a cain in the neighborhood Even though We have our ups n downs We still somehow hold each other down Cant trust noone even ya family Members be buggin' Still muggin' At twenty eight in the mix Sippin' on tangeray or the henny With a spliff to match that On the waist a eight pound gat **** up if ya want too And watch death come hunt you So just play it cool fool I aint tryna say im the baddest But i gotta defend mine Especially to punk *** one time Meanwhile im still sailin' Ocean coastin' Breakin' the bells of liberty Still bailin'
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54
JO AND I ARE GOING BACK HOME NOW, IT'S DONE, WE'VE HAD EVERYTHING FROM PHUKET TO HUMDRUM, I'D LIKE TO THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR HEARTS, YOUR CALL, I GAVE SOME, FOLLOWED AND TRIED TO READ YOU ALL; I HAD CRITICAL ACCLAIM, PERHAPS STRUCK A CHORD, I DON'T MIND THE ADMONISHMENT - MAYBE YOU WERE BORED, BUT IF I MADE YOU LAUGH, EVEN MADE YOU CRY, IT WAS WORTH EVERY MOMENT THAT I COULD TRY TO BRIGHTEN THE DAY OR FOR THAT MATTER - THE NIGHT, WITH THE 'REVOLUTIONIST' HOLDING COURT, GIVING US A FRIGHT, 'TITANIA' WAS 'ILL MET BY MOONLIGHT' IN AN EERIE GLOW, I SAID TO LIGHTEN UP, ILLUMINATE, NOT LOOK LIKE INDIGO; MAYBE SOME THINGS WERE WRONG BUT NOT IN THE MAIN, I WILL RETURN TO ' RIGHT ' AND SEE YOU ALL AGAIN.
0
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 1:41 AM UTC
SEE YOU ALL!
am i hearing voices in my head? maybe its just a call from the dead godspeed my heartbeats to the ***** streets enemies in a creep will i be put to sleep or will i evade the conflict? cuz everyone on my **** i gotta make a move quick strategist from past war tactics makes me react quick oh **** there they go i see shots galore I'm on the floor i see man the mirror with mad gore is it god tryna store in a blessin **** sessions my spirits full of aggression **** i shoulda had my smith n wesson will i die or will the lord spare me an eye? and let me live so i can i see my future kids sippin' on this henny aint makin it no better i got mad pain i remember my homies blood stains tattoo tears hidden my fears bo longer worried so i aint scared to be buried dead or alive im like a beehive honeys surroundin' me tryna milk me for my money but they gets nothing but a gun blast then i laughhhh right in they face trading places eradicate the racist politics happy bday ***** know yall goin to the ditch crooked i in the media eyes but they cant help it until i die i get hated then cremated back to hell where i originated dont care whos there empty rooms for the wombs while im sleepin in the tombs earthquakes hearts shakes once god tears drop satan just waitin' he aint in hesitation ghetto heaven is my destination uh cops is full of **** tryna get every brother in my hood hit then they try smile like they happy just like they did my grandpappy but papa wasnt no punk he had to dump eyes red bloodshed im seeing pain ancestors speak to me while im on liquor mayne half down the bottle im feelin' queazy so when ya see me take it eazy im just rumblin born revolutionist truth hurts the most enemies stay real close til ya a ghost light up a blunt to keep my troubles loose i aint scared to die my only fear of death is coming back reincarnated cuz in heaven there no phonies just gangsta *** homies and thugs with galore drugs and slugs hit it? cuz my own fear if being reincarnated after death
0
Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 6:03 PM UTC
A Fear Of Reincarnation
am i hearing voices in my head? maybe its just a call from the dead godspeed my heartbeats to the ***** streets enemies in a creep will i be put to sleep or will i evade the conflict? cuz everyone on my **** i gotta make a move quick strategist from past war tactics makes me react quick oh **** there they go i see shots galore I'm on the floor i see man the mirror with mad gore is it god tryna store in a blessin **** sessions my spirits full of aggression **** i shoulda had my smith n wesson will i die or will the lord spare me an eye? and let me live so i can i see my future kids sippin' on this henny aint makin it no better i got mad pain i remember my homies blood stains tattoo tears hidden my fears bo longer worried so i aint scared to be buried dead or alive im like a beehive honeys surroundin' me tryna milk me for my money but they gets nothing but a gun blast then i laughhhh right in they face trading places eradicate the racist politics happy bday ***** know yall goin to the ditch crooked i in the media eyes but they cant help it until i die i get hated then cremated back to hell where i originated dont care whos there empty rooms for the wombs while im sleepin in the tombs earthquakes hearts shakes once god tears drop satan just waitin' he aint in hesitation ghetto heaven is my destination uh cops is full of **** tryna get every brother in my hood hit then they try smile like they happy just like they did my grandpappy but papa wasnt no punk he had to dump eyes red bloodshed im seeing pain ancestors speak to me while im on liquor mayne half down the bottle im feelin' queazy so when ya see me take it eazy im just rumblin born revolutionist truth hurts the most enemies stay real close til ya a ghost light up a blunt to keep my troubles loose i aint scared to die my only fear of death is coming back reincarnated cuz in heaven there no phonies just gangsta *** homies and thugs with galore drugs and slugs hit it? cuz my own fear if being reincarnated after death
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40
I ask myself why I was sent on Earth to die But why even ask why I blaze thoughts to the sky from a natural high hopefully catch a glimpse of a spy I see the demons leeching from miles away So I gotta stay away from all of those adversaries who prey say I make doomsday look easy judgement upon thee How ***** I'm just the devils son kin to realist the one A revolutionist at heart so I know I'll part Soon to be in a grave see Moses rod save Me parted polarities of heaven and hell my thoughts dwell soon to sail Over the oceans smooth coastin' Yo I got more brothers than the Isleys Despite the distraction most might see But I knock em out like Mike Tyson round one in the eighties boxin' My wit you'll see ya third eye pinched like a *** From a babies grip these days fools actin' like ladies D'angelo rappin' in angles I smoke mics like Monte Cristo take sips slow Of Dom Perignon Then get back on my grind embrace the shine My face is in the sun my platoon is the moon Army of darkness watch me spark this Flint damage braincells til it swells Bodies smell from that gats that derailed Ya body off of the tracks my flows loco- with the Motives rhymes explosive Take em down like Otis don't try to quote it Hip hop i re word it you heard it from me I'm that last of the dying breed holdin'the seeds Of hip hop replanted the crops Now all the weaklings begin to drop Feelin' victorious once I reclaimed the top Of the pyramid ya dig I'm Michael True ****** snatching ya title you don't want a rival big Yosef the fittest for survival
0
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 11:46 PM UTC
Tut's Theme
I ask myself why I was sent on Earth to die But why even ask why I blaze thoughts to the sky from a natural high hopefully catch a glimpse of a spy I see the demons leeching from miles away So I gotta stay away from all of those adversaries who prey say I make doomsday look easy judgement upon thee How ***** I'm just the devils son kin to realist the one A revolutionist at heart so I know I'll part Soon to be in a grave see Moses rod save Me parted polarities of heaven and hell my thoughts dwell soon to sail Over the oceans smooth coastin' Yo I got more brothers than the Isleys Despite the distraction most might see But I knock em out like Mike Tyson round one in the eighties boxin' My wit you'll see ya third eye pinched like a *** From a babies grip these days fools actin' like ladies D'angelo rappin' in angles I smoke mics like Monte Cristo take sips slow Of Dom Perignon Then get back on my grind embrace the shine My face is in the sun my platoon is the moon Army of darkness watch me spark this Flint damage braincells til it swells Bodies smell from that gats that derailed Ya body off of the tracks my flows loco- with the Motives rhymes explosive Take em down like Otis don't try to quote it Hip hop i re word it you heard it from me I'm that last of the dying breed holdin'the seeds Of hip hop replanted the crops Now all the weaklings begin to drop Feelin' victorious once I reclaimed the top Of the pyramid ya dig I'm Michael True ****** snatching ya title you don't want a rival big Yosef the fittest for survival
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33
I'm not a Revolutionist Will bring change in a fortnight But,my intention is to aware You To make You awakened Through the shower of Knowledge Not a Man of Letter I'm Simply a Humanity Lover-Written on 07.11.2012
0
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 12:07 PM UTC
~Humanity Lover~
i want to embody every girl. i want to be a sunday school girl in the ‘60s, red ribbons in my hair, two neatly tied plaits the color of wheatfields, riding my bike down cobblestone streets, sunlight kissing my neck. i want to be a tattooed punk rock worshipper, electric blue hair and ray-bans, fishnet stockings and the city a blur of entangled lights in the rear-view mirror of my motorcycle. i want to be a venice girl who reads valentines for a living, rapunzel hair all soft sculptured ringlets, a pet blue bird and summer dresses in floral prints, long eyelashes and sowing glitter. i want to be a french artist and revolutionist in the ‘90s, **** paintings and led lights, portraits out of beer cans and pencil shavings, a student of the fine arts falling in love again and again with the light and how it falls on the sidewalks & people’s faces & the trees. i want to be this girl and that girl, a romanian princess in her 20’s, an old witch with a grisly past, a gypsy on the run, a victorian model, a historian with an appetite for gardening, an archaeologist who nicknames all her finds, a singer who grates her guitar on boulevards in italy and cafes in paris for the spare dime, an english man’s favorite daughter. i want to be a struggling ballet dancer with an emotional dependency on poetry, an astronaut who discovers a parallel universe, a noir film actress who smokes too much and has eyes like diamonds, a fortune teller, a vigilante, a musician. every girl’s soul whispers to me.
0
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 2:08 AM UTC
Character Exercise
i want to embody every girl. i want to be a sunday school girl in the ‘60s, red ribbons in my hair, two neatly tied plaits the color of wheatfields, riding my bike down cobblestone streets, sunlight kissing my neck. i want to be a tattooed punk rock worshipper, electric blue hair and ray-bans, fishnet stockings and the city a blur of entangled lights in the rear-view mirror of my motorcycle. i want to be a venice girl who reads valentines for a living, rapunzel hair all soft sculptured ringlets, a pet blue bird and summer dresses in floral prints, long eyelashes and sowing glitter. i want to be a french artist and revolutionist in the ‘90s, **** paintings and led lights, portraits out of beer cans and pencil shavings, a student of the fine arts falling in love again and again with the light and how it falls on the sidewalks & people’s faces & the trees. i want to be this girl and that girl, a romanian princess in her 20’s, an old witch with a grisly past, a gypsy on the run, a victorian model, a historian with an appetite for gardening, an archaeologist who nicknames all her finds, a singer who grates her guitar on boulevards in italy and cafes in paris for the spare dime, an english man’s favorite daughter. i want to be a struggling ballet dancer with an emotional dependency on poetry, an astronaut who discovers a parallel universe, a noir film actress who smokes too much and has eyes like diamonds, a fortune teller, a vigilante, a musician. every girl’s soul whispers to me.
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6
I’ve been so many people But I just can’t seem to find one that fits like a glove I’ve been a people pleaser, a revolutionist But it has all fallen by the wayside How do you know who you are How do you know who you are not
0
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 4:07 PM UTC
How Do You Know
razors in their hands hangmen wanted to cut to bits our tongues before our hearts in the mid of the fires while, hitting our logic to insanity chain we guarded a red rose in our hearts slave men many of them -even- unknowing how they are deceived by the lies shared the pogrom gravitated to Madımak Hotel on 1993 thoughts were in the spider's web beards are white, hearts are black feet ran for killing and burned the flowers' blossoms with their seeds which are the future of their children reverend mullahs!? now, how the soup tastes at your tables? after two, they were thirty five comrades who drained life from their souls they were who had pure love in their thoughts now, they will be the guests of our souls till the eternity they were proud, revolutionist and compassionate and they are at the comrades bitter consolation resting in our hearts moon lights shining on their faces that’s why every second of July songs are more sorrowful consciousnesses are more rebellious! my grudge sharpened -like a knife- day by day aaaah aah ah! at the yearn of the friendly smell at the resistance, not to forget my feelings my feelings, remained orphan Turgay Usanmaz
0
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 2:11 AM UTC
orphan feelings
they used to ask me? yo yosef do you feel pain? I said he'll yeah all across my membrane use the hair strains off my ***** mary jane can't **** with that ******* it's the only way to keep my mind sane gotta dame yeah she's far from tamed but I gotta dig deeper cuz if not she'll leave ya I told her I'm on some revolutionist **** she look at me confused *** **** I told her ya know we kings and queens but it seems they always discredit us in a magazine stereotypes and ******** movie hype thinkin every ***** is out to snipe I gotta cope nope I don't sell dope but my rhyme is dope to this beat y'all elope married to tune sounds of doom uh ya better know the game G cuz I ain't down with buck dancing G **** this new slavery and this new waverly of fashion form **** the uniform I don't conform to no ******** I'd rather be a dude that a lunatic I gotta stay true to my barrio ever since K-rino bumped in my stereo and now I know why they hate me it's cuz of my masculinity wishin they could be us notorious and dangerous in lies we trust government gonna get a gun bust from every last on of us my ancestors are my protectors mama didn't wanna hear me or steer me so I turned to the universe and they cleared me guilty from the system ghostly farms coming for the lynching don't be alarm black folks it's just us returning the yoke forty acres and a mule check the clips from the sound of my tool my Drago leggo my eggo we beat any scenario puff another blunt of indo see me through ya Window I'm in the thoughts of ya temple chambers deep creep like TLC we cool strong and crazy fools don't phase me cuz lately I been seein thangs that the average eye can't see so sit back as I wreck the place holding the world hostage no ransom prepare for the coming of Scarface
0
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 3:42 AM UTC
Scarr-Face
they used to ask me? yo yosef do you feel pain? I said he'll yeah all across my membrane use the hair strains off my ***** mary jane can't **** with that ******* it's the only way to keep my mind sane gotta dame yeah she's far from tamed but I gotta dig deeper cuz if not she'll leave ya I told her I'm on some revolutionist **** she look at me confused *** **** I told her ya know we kings and queens but it seems they always discredit us in a magazine stereotypes and ******** movie hype thinkin every ***** is out to snipe I gotta cope nope I don't sell dope but my rhyme is dope to this beat y'all elope married to tune sounds of doom uh ya better know the game G cuz I ain't down with buck dancing G **** this new slavery and this new waverly of fashion form **** the uniform I don't conform to no ******** I'd rather be a dude that a lunatic I gotta stay true to my barrio ever since K-rino bumped in my stereo and now I know why they hate me it's cuz of my masculinity wishin they could be us notorious and dangerous in lies we trust government gonna get a gun bust from every last on of us my ancestors are my protectors mama didn't wanna hear me or steer me so I turned to the universe and they cleared me guilty from the system ghostly farms coming for the lynching don't be alarm black folks it's just us returning the yoke forty acres and a mule check the clips from the sound of my tool my Drago leggo my eggo we beat any scenario puff another blunt of indo see me through ya Window I'm in the thoughts of ya temple chambers deep creep like TLC we cool strong and crazy fools don't phase me cuz lately I been seein thangs that the average eye can't see so sit back as I wreck the place holding the world hostage no ransom prepare for the coming of Scarface
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60
Did the clues betray the fantasist from Uncle Bulgaria on the Cornwall move alas his mother dies yearly twice so far anyway as the wind cries liar but lets take a specialist narcissist too busy planning a wedding on that train from Vietnam to volunteer in Uganda or Gambia as voices speak in head been there done it Mr Revisionist he was at the barricade at the Bastille hoisting the tricolour he writes as ladies swoon he's done them all our Chamberlain is now Revolutionist fighting for a New World order on keyboard after he left the RAF do let tell worthless bullies the clues are in plain sight the contempt is resounding even Buddha knows that
0
Apr 6, 2022
Apr 6, 2022 at 8:03 PM UTC
small man big coward.....
Two wrongs, one (write)... Two wings, one flight... Two artists split words together so heavily, they could bring down the heavenly... Two pens, one ink... One paper, two speak... Two brains, but together as one we think... Two souls, one emotion... Four legs, one motion... Two revolutionist, as one we lead the pack... Two hearts, meant to only attract... Two sets of eyes, as one we see... Two searchers, as one we seek... Sunken treasure, in the pacific so deep... Traveling the waves, the membranes believe... Two minds, as one we fix thee... Problems cut rarely, but as one we bleed... Two wrongs one (write)... Together, we sketch the night... The moon is our home, sky's not the limit... We control the rain clouds, precipitation forbidden... Two, drenched in water, from above... As one, we (write), to prove, what's become... Love...
0
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 3:18 AM UTC
Two Wrongs, One (Write)...
Is it merely just a paper? Born from nature, molded by hands Timekeeper of history, curator of mortal demands! From the moment a kid scribbles their first doodles To the moment a person records his last. Is it merely just a paper? A child’s canvas of boundless dreams, Where letters dance, and colors gleam. An artist’s appetite for creation, Where he shapes his imagination. A man’s plea of proposal, a revolutionist’s voice A royal decree, a gift! Or a nation’s cunning ploys, An innocent airplane, a love letter or a terrible ransom, A waste or a cheque of money- quite handsome! It has the power to bring tears or a simple smile, A bridge between hearts, across many a mile In ink, in lead, in blood or in gold, Written in it are valiant stories to be foretold Written in it are- “A B C D”,  “1 2 3 4” “Apne matbhedo ko bhuljao aur Halla Bol !” “Rohit weds Archana” “He fought with honor” “Sorry mom and dad, I couldn’t make it” Carrier of Joy, Carrier of Sorrow Plight of yesterday, Flight of tomorrow! Is it merely just a paper?
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Aug 26, 2024
Aug 26, 2024 at 8:29 AM UTC
(Not) Just a Paper
Looking for them devils grinning Tryna block me in deep in sin How can I make a livin' Off the reality fake pension Mentally in a prison Caught up in the matrix Mind stay playin tricks Can't trust it bust quick If I see my adversaries reachin' Out to me **** your plea Do ya see what i see Computer love is the new human Nature but we off nature Can't find a mellow tune And soon I'll be knocking at hells door Hopin' the father will swoop Down and take me once more Not too shore Where I'll be resting hopefully it'll be in ghetto heaven Breakin' leven Brothers n sister's gathering Sippin' bottles of coke and hen But then again Is a celebration or reforming life Through reincarnation My poetry ain't hard to see The price of the real picture But it's too costly Im talkin' about giving up everything Let go of the thangs that hang Onto your mind grind and shine And keep negativity blind Focused on myself Now they consider a narcissist They just upset cuz they ain't controlling this Pro revolutionist got some soldiers to reminisce Setting the plan takin' a shots Its all that I got Once my flows drop demos pop Up as single but they don't want to mingle With the spirits of the universe Break the curse prepared for the worse I know it's hard being off guard That's why roll a blunt a take a charge no longer fiendin' large Destined for cremation In fear of a reincarnation
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Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 3:26 AM UTC
Reincarnated fear of Rebirth to Sin
A student life has many phases. a sincere and responsible student. a solitude loner in the world. a  struggler of success., on way to know real myself., a good child to fulfill his parents dream ,for which they are waiting since long time. a revolutionist towards negative norms around us., to become a good man. A match with competition so to get a good job. A student life isn't that easy as it looks He deals with many challenges which makes a survival of fittest for the upcoming world for him.
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May 25, 2019
May 25, 2019 at 4:01 PM UTC
A student life ...