Canvas white Sky blue
Sun spot orange
Me and hue
Bird in flight
Dark of night
Filament tethers red dragon kite
Artists tears
Stolen years
Deep regrets
Écru laments
Music hushed
An études grace
Variations of light and lace
Rhythms raunchy rock and soul
Beauty seen
A hard won goal
Wasted time
Long and still
Lemons ripen
Write my will
What to leave to who and you?
What is here?
What's left behind?
Unspoken words
Unwritten rhymes
things
things
things
Meant once for me
Not much of a legacy
Essence of what once was "I"
A lasting smile
A kiss good-by
A memory
An uttered phrase
A moments providential haze
The things that mean the most,
I can not leave you;
My childrens' touch
Their smooth embraces
A glimpse of stars
Upon their faces
To see the world
Through childrens eyes
Such innocence is for the wise.
A gift from them to me then you
To see the universe anew;
So the things I have Don't mean a lot
But take a look At what I've got.
2 comments:
Today's "word verification" sounds almost scatological when uttered. Or it could mean "oily cats" in Italian.
A comforting poem. As we creep toward the bright light, a sanguine peace seems to envelop us. On my blog yesterday, that's what I meant about being a tourist in my native land.
Meanwhile, I happen to know a little about rap and hip hop culture. You picked a rapper from my favorite era, from before the fusion with r&b. If you search Gil Scot Heron, you'll hear what it sounded like originally. I did a course on it back in 03, made a bit a splash. First question from interviewers: "What's an old white guy doing in a class like this?"
Keep writing poetry. You make feeling images. Not an easy task.
I hate when I "flunk" the word verification. It's so humiliating. I wish I knew what series of letters you had to fill in.
I have always stayed pretty current when it comes to music and art trends. I didn't appreciate rap for a long time though but stumbled across some of the old school stuff and recognized it for real poetry and was moved by the heartfelt angst reflected in the lyrics.
O.G.
When I wrote about parties
Someone always died
When I tried to write happy
Yo I knew I lied, I lived a life of crime
Why play ya blind?
A simple look
and anyone with two cents
would know I'm
A hardcore player from the streets
Rappin' bout hardcore topics
Over hardcore drum beats
a little different
Than the average though
Jet you thru the fast lane
Drop ya on death row
Cause anybody who's been there
Knows that life ain't sho lovely
On the blood-soaked fast track
That invincible shit don't work
Throw ya in a joint
You'll be comin' out feet first
So I blast the mic with my style
Sometimes I'm ill
The other times buck wild
But the science is always there
I'd be a true sucker
If I acted like I didn't care
I rap for brothers just like myself
Dazed by the game
In a quest for extreme wealth
But I kick it to you hard and real
One wrong move, and you caps peeled
I ain't no super hero
I ain't no Marvel Comic
But when it comes to game I'm atomic
At droppin' it straight
Point blank and untwisted
No imagination needed, cause I lived it
This ain't no fuckin' joke
This shit is real to me
I'm Ice-T
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