Monday, March 8, 2010

Training Day

they told me that i wasnt ever gonna make it
told me that id never get to see the top
but now im standing on the mountain looking down
telln em i can't hear you anymore
because your negativity is out of earshot
negative nancsy better close yall mouth
mess around and catch flies
thats what my grandpops used to say
killing em with kindness
and pay them no never minds
when you get in to that dark place dont dwell in it
think of better times
so thats what i did
prayed for god to develop my gifts
so i can i make a better life
so i
make art and i
and every brush stroke i put on my canvas
gets me a lil closer to the end of the tunnel
i can almost see the light
i no longer hear your gonna be just like your mother
go to jail just like your brothers
die just like ya sisters
dammit i put blisters
on my hands to make sure i didnt end up in the same positiion
ill be dammed if i end up on the same path
cuz i didnt listen
never knew my father but the men who raised me
gave me a chance to be different
put the whoopn on that ass
and low key saved me
from continuing the cycle of self distruction that ran in my blood like a disease
so i look down from that mountain top with mixed feelings glad that i made it yet surprised to succeed
screaming at the top of my lungs "KING KONG AINT GOT NUTHN ON ME"
fell to my knees took a minute to breathe
and then things became clear
it wasn't over
looking higher I wondered, "Where do I go from here"?


Cyborgs Make the World Go Round

A fashion and life Manifesto

Always wear glitter.
Huge Gawdy earrings were made on the first day of creation and those that do not own at least one pair disgrace humanity and slap God directly in face.
Color is life, live by it, die by it.
Fuck Dick and Jane Everyone is a Dillinger and we live in the Era of Badassetry.
Twiggy is in Hell burning in Dante’s inferno on the 8th level melting like the wicked witch she is.
The curve is everlasting, the twiggy is extinct disappearing before your eyes and replaced by all the Toccara’s of the world.
It is a cardinal sin to wear black on any day you’re not dead or visiting somebody who is dead.
A hyper individual is past the idea of the individual, of the common place. They are the mechanized robots of society.
Being able to think is being able to stand alone.
The hyper real human is a cyborg.
Always pack color.
Know your palette.
You wouldn’t bring a 38 to a gun fight with an AK47 would you? So, go get yourself a grenade & blow some shit up!
Think from inside the box. Everyone’s so busy getting out that you’ll have plenty of space to work & pull
from the past all of which is retro.
The past all of it is retro.
The current is metro (moving retro)
& the future is post metro
The world is a Tinguely place.
They should call is the law of Julia. It sums up everything.
And its opposite solves everything- keep moving.
Robots are replaced with new models. Cyborgs evolve.
Robots die.
Cyborgs find ways to live forever.

Get Well Soon Hop Hop

killn time
killn bars
killin kush
killa cars
killn near
killin far
killin niggas
this rap shit can be a killah
thats what they front up
run up on you
with their fake bullshit raps
embrace a brutha in the same trap
passin hoochie cooter mamas
taking there attention for a minute
caught in the relverie
snapping out of it
bruh one says to bruh two
yea i'd hit that
and on goes the cycle of downward mobility
"check, check out my melody"
parading around foolish ideas and flauntin felonies

sound waves deliever the message of what it is is to stay trill
flashing yo fake diamonds and rent a grills
across the camera
when baby moms cant even pay the light bills
teachin they daughters how to be tip drills
industry flambay: sizzle and die: inexpensive fame hungry cheap thrill
too fake to be real
but the soldier boy waka flocka cats like, "he did it!? awww hell, i can do it too!!!"
yea they can if they give all whack ass niggas like you a gimmick and a deal

i tend to be
how you living
one hunnit
hip hop
nevr claim to be a stunna i dont want it
i cant stand the culture
everybody clings to you like vultures
pick at you til theres nothing left
rappers need to step up they bars about their guns and money heists concepts
make me wanna foxy brown lose the gift of sound: go deaf

hip hop smashing on you
eliminate you in one breath
i need evolution in my ears
it dont have to be right as in riteous or stay left
i just dont want no borderline commercial "On to the next"
i didn't say go non secular
just back to basics break it down to the molecular
build it back up
just would like to hear better gospel
rappin bout the same old same is gettin docile (dossil)
easy does
eazy does it
easy doing
easy is
easy biz
easy eats
easy beats
easy lives
im tired of these easy kats
gettn over on these kids
rippn em off tryn to pass wack music as the biz
can we get back to the roots
the elements
and the elemental truth
hip hopism as a religion
to get godly spittn in the booth?
can we melt the barbies in this uncuth plastic movement
with napalm then bury them deep in cement blcks
i want to get a one on one psychological sessions
"tell me nicki what do you see in this ink blot?
do voices tell you to talk like a dysfunctional robot?"
I wanna get into their heads to see
why they dont get the message
and why this cool to be ignorant idea was manifested
no need to confess it the labor shows the product
hip hop was an innocent bystander
in the war between society and rap
and it just got caught up
after the verbal gunfire
i rode with you in the ambulence
while they tried to bring you back to life
got hopeful when they told me you were weak but managed to survive the damages
and so i
write you a get well card
and hope one day in the very near future
you can take off your bandages
because the rap game is in a state of emergency
an SOS call has been sited
and hip hop needs to answer it
rap is sick itself
a ticking time bomb
and only the pureness of hip hop can dismantle it

get well soon hip hop
the game needs you

Sleep is For P*****

too tired to write
talking nonsense yo
late night west coasting
trying to get by
on no sleep
but i can't stop the hustle
hustle or die
die as in to sleep
and to sleep to say we end
and i refuse to give in
and let some other chump chick bite my hustle
when i'm so close to success i can taste it
ill be damned i put so much work into a future
death to complacence
fuck patience
im impatient
i want it now
but i understand i gotta give it til i get it
so no sleepn when you ttrying to get somewhere
thats how folks crash and burn
falling asleep at the wheel
im trying to put on work
never leave yo cup unattended to
competition always trying to slip you that ambien
find yourself in an ambulance
kweens like me avoid the ann boyeln
all politics like VietNAM Ho Chi Minh and Berlin
I dont play that tricky dick shit
nor do i let the king ax me
i run my kingdom
i run my ship
and to them
i could give a fuck less
looking at em driving by hatin' in a hooptie
while i wave at em from the cutlass
life is up for the must get
so i davy crockett
and go for me musket
and blast off like a rockett
joan dillenger
lyrical machine guns at the ready
ever so softly killin ya
verbal artillary: heavy
black betsy
dont think im wit it test me
jigsaw mentality
raw self centrality
no shame
step in this ring
wear a raincoat it gets messy
hustlns a messy job tho
but somebodys gotta do it...

Despite the Odds

today i found out that my mr. right now
was mr. right.
cleared his busy schedule to be with me all day
and not expected; to my surprise
learned something about me
that was so deep in my closet i thought i forgot about it
and instead of running away he stayed right there
didn't flinch, didnt blink, said that i should think
of it as something that makes me, me
and i wouldnt be ther person i am without it
and through the stubborn tears that rolled down my face
fearing he would leave like all the rest
to the best
of his ability he gave me a ginuine smile
saying he wasn't planning on going anywhere for a while
if ever
and i drifted to sleep
in his arms
for what seemed like almost half of forever
listening to the rain beating against my windows
realizing that in this world
despite the odds
i am loved

Empowered Poem (Untitled)

woman tell me why they
are not strong enough
tell me why they say you are to be subservient
tell me why they refuse to let me through this glass ceiling
even though i know i be desrving it
woman you can give your opinion
but that doesnt mean at all in any way that youve been heard
im steady observing this
that every time i try to give it to em all the way strait
from 0-60 in 60 seconds they wanna grab my wheel like its the thing to do and swerve
fuck up my path and have me flip off the overpass on a curve

fuck you mighty man
cuz gawd put a wo before my name
power like WHOA
forget your mannish
you've lost your manners
and oh
lose my number
class one clinger your incessant calls drivn me bannerz
and bruh i need my space
I will not let you dumb me down and follow your destruction to the grave
i am not a trophy for you to put up on display

awake me from this idol slumber
let me be not no numb-er
then i portray to be
image is weakness is what is seems
"bring that coca cola bottle over here" says he
and me? I say "excuse me, are you talking to me?"
and he says "girl you a tall glass a water and Im thirsty"
society makes it seem like
i need to be shaken up
like a martini
put a garnish on me and make me look nice
send me out there on a platter wearing only a bikini
so i can be objectified
thats what they do right
parade us for the enjoyment of their eyes
their pleasure
we are to be
intricately accessorized
machine like
stepford wife
something that can be replaced
if he should like

society then says that
we are built to be a part of their lives
their lies
we are to be a prize
you looked shocked
this should come as no surprise
yes sweety
a trophy til you die
let him polish you up when he's not busy
so when his friends come by
they too can marvel at the v cut of your collerbone the outline of your behind and the thickness of your thighs
with each look by unwanted eyes your brilliance is slightly dimmed, more confined
repeatedly subjectified dying little by little over time
only you know what for you is essential
and you cannot fully shine
if you do not realize your own potential
women you are instrimental to lifes symphony
you are the conductor, the maestro-ette, the writer
you are the pro lifer
you supply the world with population
the world is your candle and you are the lighter
illuminate the world with your power
do not let a man establish your worth
go forth,
sweet flower, bloom, and pollenate the earth

He Makes Me

he makes me think about the next day
the sun sets on the very day
that i'm
day dreaming
about him
he makes me
want to let my hair down
call off of work
and clear my schedule
"Plans? what plans? I'm free"

he makes me want to loose my mind like its the thing to do
like being ideocentric is synonymous for normalcy
in those idol hours of intimacy
i think to myself,
i was nevr supposed to fall in love
i was never supposed to let myself feel this vulnerable
but again here he is
and again here i am
and we both are there in the same space
sharing each others air
the only thing i can hear is the dreams beside me
this is crazy
i should be institutionalized
both of which i already am
i roll over and stare into the darkness
wondering how long will it last
and just as quickly as that thought came
another came to overpower it telling me to live in the now
the moment is the only quitessential thing that is necessary
and breathing

i listened to the internal debate of myself for my self
and realized that
he makes me want to run out in the rain with no raincoat
crawl across the dessert with not a drop of H2O
you think oh
she must be insane
but it is he that makes me so.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010


if a revolution is to be televised
tell 'em I
didn't get the message
tell 'em my
ears went unprotected utterly terrified
varified by the ringing in my ears
let me clarify I am now
to conception
did you hear me bruthaman
death has manifested
itself in culture
played vulture
to our youth
and picked the bones clean
so that the skeletons of once wholesomehuman beings
lay earrily at the feet of humanity
welcoming the empty dream
with ghostly arms of deja vu
cards on the table texas hold em
I can see your tell
Your left side twitches slightly when your doing well
good revolution I win you lose
bad revolution: What would Adolf do?
good morning vietnam how are you?
death before execution
wake up from electricution
shock therapy
back to life
back to reality
how ever do you want it
revolution is just a formality
the action of change on steroids; juice
be the change you wish to see in the world they say
multiply by two
then you
will have the recipe not for revolt
but the recipe for result
because a revolution can be televised
but if nobodys watchn and the volumes not up
nor is program on the right channell
what does it matter
if everyones in the kitchen fixing a sandwhich
and no ones paying attention?

Gawd Save the Kween

shallow, centered
self, essential
size him up
black body
my epicenter
all hail
the kween
i have entered
bow down to your grace
presents of lotions and lace
audience of one
silent applause
i am to be looked at?
eager to see the goods
eager to get the keys to see under tha hood
heavy engine
i likes that
v8 power
black gold
deck of cards
52 card pickup
i fold
uncover my eyes
and let them discover you
"not yet"
foreign hands dance up my spine
masked trust
foreign kisses
foreign touch
drowing in pleasure
let the ocean swallow you up
euphoric attempted murder
water boarding
whats the name of term where you like pain?
and all i can say
while the waves rush over me
again and again
in hushed whispers
god save the kween


Money Problems: Late Night Poetics II

I wish I had rolls of money with a gold money clip
but all i got is a nickle and 2pnnys 2 give you my 2 money cents
all i wanna do is get those tuition greenz up
but arnold raising the dollars so its harder to keep them dreams up
mamacita work hard for the benjamins yet she aint seein jack
pockets poor government gambling mylife away
bad game of roulette
always in the black

(i'm gonna write more later i'm sleepy)

Late Night Poetics

something heartfelt might make ya heart melt bruh
i warn you watch me closely
i might pour acid on your cardio vascular
and start askin ya questions you cant answer
the spectacular isnt always so spectacular
my true self asks my blue self y is u after her
guard up fierce when she was yungr all the boys used to laugh at her
now they all try to master her
riddle me i am the riddle you try to find an answer ta
but you boys remain to go unsolved.. that is the reason i choose not to get emotionally involved.--- LATE NIGHT POETICS

Let Me Show You How Monsters Ball

icky poo
doo doo
skip to my lou
i love you
yogi bear and boo boo
rashad and nu nu
intimate voodoo
you do
have a spell on me
no boohoo i smile
dummy did stuffed up with yo infernal kisses
internal blisses
comes to mind when i think of becoming your eternal misses..
"O"'s you caught me "X"'s you misses
hugs and kisses
tummy full of loves u dishes
like a super dummynisen cd of overlord based remixes....
u switches powers that turn me on and electrify me with delishes
and i relishes in your webb u spinned submissive
like a jeanie in a bottle minus the 3 wishes
minus cristina ag-a-larry
i am yo halle berry
lemme show u how monsters ball


The Last N****

He said I love you.

Go figga...
The last nigga
said the same thing to make my heart beat just a little bit quicker
boom ticka bomb ticka...

Yea, he made my body shiver,
and yea he had me so sprung his internal organs needed replacing
I'd give him both kidneys if need be
and my liver
blind as stevie
signed sealed delivered I was his

saw the rest of our livestoghether after day one
didnt i tell yall i was sprung
fooled me
i be fool.. see
at the time this right here is cool beans
such a cool scene
played a fool one too many times didnt know i was the punch line of the joke

funny ha ha
later had me look back like damn how he fool me...

he told me to hold him down and i did
like i said signed sealed and delivered i was his
he called me i picked up, "whats the biz"
oh you comn round eleven, cool if thats what it is
ten a lady cleaning house making sure everything clean and pristine
eleven im ready waiting to hear my doorbell ring
by 1101 im ready to do our thing
share one dream ifyou know what i mean
but its 12 and u aint o where to be seen
you aint picking up calls or texts or anything
stood me up once again you lied to me and i chose to believe

not hearing from you for days after
u become the master of excuses
the the rhythmn in the music
HIM: the music made me do it
but (laughter)
ME: you did itbecause you chose to do it...
but one of those looks and that embrace
and my angry face
girl its gone to the wind
once again and i was mad to see it go
because if i coulda just pushed past him kissing on my neck'
i could moved on to the next
but i wanted to be blind
so i asked the man tohand me a blindfold
and so i fold and give in to the cycle of the i love you
which is just a synonym for I'm sorry thats just more powerful
so it up close it washes away wrong
if you want it to

(I wanted it to)

I wanted to dance to a rhytmn that wasn't right for me.
and thats where i went wrong
so this new nigga who wants to say i love you
you can't fool me...
you have to show me you mean it
do't tell me apologies for things u intend to keep on doing and have me believe it
because i for one my brutha fa damn sho don't need it!

LA State of Mind (the poem)

I just wrote down evrthng that came to mind when painting this piece below here... LA STATE OF MIND POEM- By: Amanda Daniels Aka Zelles known as the Poet Truth B Real

(Since I’m doing this late I’m going to write my piece on all the things it makes me feel and all the feelings and ideas I had while painting the piece)

Ebony brown queen Wake up from your dreams.
Fly because you are fly as angel wings
Light me up
Flash dance
Where you rodeo wear
Convertible; let the wind blow thru your hair
Caught in traffic on sunset
Day hasn’t even begun yet
City of dreams and meaning
City of angels full of demons
Everybody has them
Colorful as life is
Nothing is just black and white
But reds browns and yellows too
An amalgam of sun kissed skin
Amid thieves, exotica
Night life erotica
Club hopping and the strobe lights flash
And we drink and we drink and we drink…. We stumble and then we laugh
And we cry as close friends die
You never know when they’ll be a drive by Or when one day might be your last

You never can live forever being a menace to society
Pour a 40 out for a deceased homies sobriety
Full figured
Walking coke bottles
Ticking time bombs of youth
Of earth of dirt of Adam
In truth,
LA is our Eden
But at the same time our tea unsweetened
An old Rome at times
Battered and beaten
But birds of a feather flock together
Live and die in LA
LA confidential
It’s detrimental to your health to go against the grain
Nothing to gain you go for the adrenaline of the street life
The jungles calling you
Say hey to those rich folk in Baldwin hills I’m one of them
In my dreams I’m one of them
In my waking state im one of them in my death im one of them
A Baldwinite?
An angel
I make this city
I exist in this city because I am that city
And even though it’s not pretty all the time
It has its moments
Its twilights and its sunrises and its evenings
Listen to the city
Closer hear heavy how it be breathing
3am and nobody’s sleeping
Labor for that hustle
Breathless skyline
Those are things that comes to mind
When LA comes to mind.

the best coast i give it up for my west coast

Mind Chick (Battle Poem)

I'ma mind chick
into jedi mind tricks
i weave metaphors galore into lifes divine-ment
choke u out with the verbal, ressusate you like the heimlich
this flo b timeless blunt and ruthless like Imus
they raps be trash while mine clash like opposing colors jolting the dead concepts of the mindlesstapping feeling into the spineless
im prime kidd no schmo can blow my optimal I shine kidd!
i laugh at those quasi' modo's
fast as flo jo
to move on my solo dolo
while they raps a nogo and audiences are no show and have been reassigned on consignment
to a new assignment
they raps need some new alignment
get outta here with that dumbshit screaming out "Marco Polo"
Blackstar, Def and Kweli
hard hittinglike ali
raps pretty as halle
(no homo)
where my cipha at?
where my verbal?
hip hop trippn over that hurdle
and the finish line is 1000 feet furthar then before
all i want is rhymes galore
rhymes galore
all i want is rhymes galore