Masked Monkeys

Atlas thinks life sucks......sometimes I agree.

It’s ironic, feeling lonely while holding a planet full of billions

Yes, it’s ironic like being a wreck while this planet is steadily building

It’s ironic but it might not be, cuz I never could use the word “irony”

Correctly after my rebellion when Zeus was finally eyein’ me

I am thee Atlas with the world on my shoulders and I’m trying hard not to buckle

Feeling lonely while holding a planet full of billions, see I got to chuckle

Chuckle at the irony of feeling alone so I’ll put my grievance in poems

I’m speedin through gnomes readin the tomes, bleedin the stones I’m needin a home

While not needing a home cuz home is where the hatred is or where hatred lives

Or where the patron’s kids interlace their wits with an impatient id

And will makeshift gifts for this masquerade we are all apart of

Masked monkeys with massive monk beads yellin out “This is Sparta!”

Tryin to keep my mask on straight while these women constantly give me the write off

But a wise lady once said “Maybe everyone needs to take the masks right off”

I need the night off cuz living Hell is for the lovers, loving Hell they’re given

Givin’ in to zeal but lord knows that the foretold old souls will keep their secrets hidden

But Hell is like not living but still breathing, not hungry but still feeding

But Hell is like being happy but still grieving, not begging but still pleading

Hell is like watching your girl walk away knowing she will never be your girl

Knowing that even though I’m holding her planet, I’ll never exactly be in her world

But I’ll lie to my truth and say “You’ll be mine soon” and fine tune the calm of my storm

Into a monsoon till I try to court her and she’ll say her lies in haikus like

I’m very sorry,

I think we should just be friends,

I am not your type.

Or

I think you’re so sweet,

And you’re a very nice guy,

But I have some one.

Forget feeling better, let’s wallow in misery and follow infinity

My motto is “Let me breathe” cuz God knows of my prestige, Apollo will set me free

But still I’ll wallow in it to remind me I’m still human, so hurt me

So I know I’m alive, hurt me cuz I have no use for pride no use for lies

No use to try but I’m not depressed I’m just merely living in desperation

With no sunshine, I’ve been using the North Star to get to my destination

Cuz the owner of my sunshine stole it back from me, the original thief

Spitting my original teeth proving to me that the “original” bleeds

But let’s create a society where they rape the rapists and murder the murderers

But wait, it’s already like that, mandate my ass but still the myrrh will burn

And I’m not pro cons; I’m just trying to differentiate the pros from cons

But honestly, that’s hard to do when life constantly feels like a frozen pond

And the men will call me melancholy friends will harm me, then they’ll bomb me

Then embalm me then I’m falling when I’m crawling sent to folly and I’m sorry

Cuz we’re all different drops to the same rain puddle, tryin to remain lovely

But I’m a drop that wished to evaporate and tried to maintain his ugly

But this too shall pass…..

But this too shall pass…..

This too shall pass….

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Life is Like

After suffering through writers block for a while, I decided to wait it out and just record and submerge myself in music. During the duration of my dryspell, one track I had repeatedly on loop was Nas’s classic track “Nas is Like”. With that being said, I got the idea to do my own take on his concept and thus, this poem was born. I for one am very happy to have overcome my writers block yet again. Who's bad?

Life is like the first time you exit your mom’s womb & those tears are shed

A foreshadowing of the years ahead, your fears, regrets, your peers, & debts

Are all mapped out when those 2 tears hit the ground & as twenty years sit around

You’ll hear that sound echo loud & echo proud as you realize you can’t let go now

But life is like finding the meaning of sane in madness; I’m sayin’ it’s backwards

It’s like standing on the bus tryin’ to gain your balance, the pain in malice

See it’s like that ugly kid who had major talents but would still get picked on

Like my fro when its picked wrong, it’s like the 40oz bottle before it’s sipped on

By the bum who thinks outside the box he sleeps in cuz there’s no beauty in roses

There’s beauty in the homeless but crudely, rudely, truly, there ain’t no beauty

And you know this so you hold this in a closed fist & you post this on my Facebook wall

Like “Look, maybe if you put your pen down you might see life for what it is doll”

And my response will be that you gotta accumulate the cuts & scratches

Cuz amongst the madness our loves takes practice & you are the sight for my glasses

And I’ll watch as people like this status & hope they’ll post the common comments

In common context that impacts like a comet condensed that come to contact

The Earth, I’m too busy feeling alive, like a thrown away condom contents

But I’m still prone to karma’s conscience & when it comes I’ll be calm & content

And finally when I log off, I realize I can no longer see friendships

So I’ll throw my fists in fits then I’ll blow a kiss & hope it fits Apoca’s lips

And my clock will tick to remind me that it got too much time on its hands

But that’s what life is like, it’s like that group who added the woe before the man

The truly soulless who front like the man is woeless but they can’t control us

In this phallic society, they wonder why the feminists are so pissed

But that’s what life is like, see life is like you and I & you and I

Are like the wise in a fool’s disguise & the fool’s disguise is like the cruel & kind

Which is kinda cruel but the cruel is kind; they just show it in a different way

But listen hey, not a morning goes by where I don’t sit & pray

Which is lame but life is like a pretty porcelain doll with a cracked face

Hideously elegant & you know this but you’d still kiss her face

For the sentimental value plus it’s beautifully imperfect

Yeah, that’s what life is like imperfectly beautiful, just like a person

And I can go on & on about how humanity is flawed & lost

But just know I’m a man that can accept his flaws & that universal law

You know that law that says nothing is perfect…with the exception of my ma?

Well, my ma and maybe God too cuz he created this universe thus the law?

Doesn’t exactly pertain to him, we can delve deeper but it’d take too much logic

And to be honest, I kinda lost it in a lawless Los Anne where the law is lost and

The cowboys rule & they’d shoot you in places where they know it’d hurt

But that’s what life is like; life is like taking that last breath before leaving this Earth

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The Sad Clown

I haven't updated the blog in a while, mainly cuz I've been focusing on my music and neglecting poetry. So I decided to post lyrics to a song I recently completed in an attempt to pass it off as poetry. The idea of the sad clown is something that has been around for a while. With that being said, something about a sad clown has always fascinated me. I guess it’s the fact that someone who's supposed to bring joy and happiness shouldn't be depressed themselves. In any case I didn't wanna be cliché and write about a sad clown cuz that would just be like beating a dead horse. Instead I decided to write about the world through the eyes of a sad clown. Hope you enjoy this.

I take a look in my eyes on a search for truth

But all I really find is the hurt of youth

And the hurt is you with a perfect view

Where a person views without a purpose to

Lookin’ out a dirty window and in a broken mirror

Hear me when the wind blows, a clown provokin’ fear

And maybe when the wind goes, the town will spread its cheer

But it’s not that simple so I’ll drown in years

I’m an idiot with idioms, a minion of mediums

Hideous with helium, so pity this and pity them

Cuz the city gets insidious when dealin’ its delirium

But speak to this Caesarean, I’m weepy and I’m weary and

I’ll sit and reminisce; I’ll never be the eminence

I’ll be the revenant who seeks your remnants

The evidence says I’m guilty the death of the first born

But let he who is without sin cast the first stone

Still, I look into my pride on the search for truth

But all I really find is the cries of youth

Trying to mend their broken hearts with soft kisses and silver duct tape

Still in dark days, lost in the heart break

Lost in the heart ache, tryin' to be cathartic

In a world so cold like in the arctic

Tryin to find peace of mind but they lost it

All in time you will find, you’ll be lovin’ often

Cuz love is blind like the cataracts matter fact

I’m gonna swing the pieces of my broken heart like a battle axe

Counter that, counteract, a rap battle? Battle that

I rap ballads to battle rap, wanna settle? Saddle that

But death rides a white horse and breath has a life force

And they met on the right course the regret of angel Michael’s

Shots from the rifle, twenty one count em all

As he falls like fire works in Carnival

Broken wings as he sings his way to a tomb-box

Outta sync, as for me? A trench coat and boom-box

Hip Hop’s Lloyd Dobler, I won’t avoid the heart hurt

Or put my art first, please accept my offer

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The Sailboat Philosophy

A very good friend of mine who I hold near and dear to my heart gave me the idea to write this. The basic idea was trying to link sailboats and philosophy together in a way that made sense. I think I made it work if I say so myself. I'd like to thank that good friend of mine for being a good friend :P

Growing up, my momma had a picture of a sailboat hanging on our wall

See our yawl, was a green sailboat on a backdrop of shower falls
And as I recall, both my parents weren’t exactly the sailing type
But then again, as a kid I was rarely right on those marry nights
When my pops used to sing me Barry White when I’d cower from my scary sights
But one day, I asked my mom & she said that sailing was much like the married life
It took perfect harmony & balance from the blowing breeze & the simple sea
It was simple see; one can’t exist without the other, so the wind shall breathe
And the sea shall speed, propelling the sailboat in its proper direction
Much like parents & their seeds when they direct them, this is why I respect them
My mom then said that we may not sail but marriage is all about compromise
Oh momma, how I love you; I thank God how I got your eyes & pops old guise
And pops so wise so I asked for his opinion on the matter of the sailboat
Then I went from riding his coattails to writing his tale’s quotes so I shall quote
“The world is a river where if you take a look in, you’ll see it in reverse
Where mentor becomes torment & the blessed need curse life’s a play you can’t rehearse
But all is not lost; generally, a generation can go through genesis
And embrace gentleness to become the gentry despite gender, then in bliss
We can live, no matter how hard the wind blows at your sails, you weather the storm
And whether it storms, the best of navigators will never be warned
Or ever be worn, they could navigate a sailboat through the blowing rain”
So I’m showing pain & owning strains from a growing brain & I’m knowing plain
And simple that my pops can grasp concepts I couldn’t begin to comprehend
Shoot, I didn’t even understand what he said there but I’ll pretend
And maybe one day, it’ll make sense & I can become that navigator
Smart with brains like a calculator and the heart of a gladiator
And I’ll make both my momma & my poppa proud of the person I’ve become
Because love is the opposite of opinions, see everybody needs one
Maybe one day, that day will come but to this day their advice is still lost on me
So I stand staring at the picture hoping to gain the sailboat’s philosophy

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Inhale, Exhale

This I wrote for a buddy of mine's blog (Can be seen here http://proprpostur.blogspot.com/2010/10/breathe-me.html). Although it was a short piece I was really happy with how it turned out! Much love to Edwards Spencer!

Inhale, exhale the movement of a wind sail, wind fell from lungs that were in jail
Rib caged & in hell in need of intel of what to do when win fails just inhale
Catch it, hold it, & don’t ever lose it, use it when the world seems ruthless
It can leave you breathless like when the two kiss the connection of two lips
Tulips? Will do a dance brought on by the wind exhaled from Mother Nature’s lungs
When she gave her speech to the birds & the bees in her own cryptic native tongue
And if the flutter of a butterfly’s wings can bring about a tornado
Then exhaling together will bring about the winds of change that tore NATO
Drop a house on social injustice & we’ll quickly get used to the adjustments
Humans could be a race with substance in a Utopia where trust lives
But trust this; each breath we take is a definition of what our soul is
Cuz the day we stop breathing is the day we’re soulless hold this with a closed fist
Close to your heart & let it live in between those who won’t sleep & bros with gold teeth
And the one thing this poem and breathing both have in common is that they’re both deep
So inhale, exhale with enough force to power the movement of a windsail
And when win fails & you’re down on your luck & in hell remember just inhale

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Gold Mass

Couple of days ago, I had the pleasure to do an inclass session with some of the students at Fielding Drive Public School. I had a great time and the students were nothing short of amazing. One of the students, Haneen Alhassoun, wrote a poem! About me!! It's moments like this that make me happy doing what I do! Enjoy! PS. Thanks again Ms. Alhassoun!

Gold Mass

A poet visited our class, his words weigh gold mass.
Letter after letter cut through my heart like shattered glass.
Meanings flew around my mind like a song on a jazz band.
We weren't like a band, don't misunderstand, it was a meaningful class.
It was a linked circle of some lazy turtles that didn't move.
Hey! I’ve got some proof.
He's only twenty, he has experienced plenty.
His experiences are his topics.
From the arctic to the tropics.
He touched hate, he touched love, he touched joy, he touched heartbreaking, and he touched confusion.
Still it's not my conclusion.
He's a role model for every youth, it's not a compliment, and it’s just the truth.
We asked questions, we got some tips, we made some jokes.
He's Amazing folks!

-Haneen.

Dedicated to,
Khaleefa Hamdan A.K.A ApollotheChild.

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This is Not a Poem

This is not a poem. This is not poetry. To me this is life. Years of my life inked on paper and typed digitally!

This is not a poem, this is not a poem, see this? This is life

A life documented through words and paper from the words on paper
This is a person’s saviour with a purpose greater then a purse’s paper
This? This is a servant’s labour through a service caper being the serpent’s neighbour
See this is not a poem; this? This is a “moment in time” manifestation
Manifesto, manifesting a manifest of a man in frustration
A manifest of a man with breath in a candid test planed in depth
By persons unknown who planted death in a planet left marked by abandoned breaths
The planet left ‘cause they abandoned steps to Heaven leaving stranded guests
But the stranded guests had a pen in vests so they plan to invest
They plan to invest in a land that was never theirs to invest in
So this is the greed that spreads like interest or a viral infection
So I repeat this is not a poem, this is when I sit all alone
And I think I’m in a zone so I sink till I groan and in a fit throw my phone
This is it I’ll atone, I’ll atone, I’ll atone I will atone with the will of a stone
So this? This is the contents that fill a moan, the villains own villainous throne
Till he’s killed and dethroned, killed by his clone the one who swore he’d atone
With the will of a stone, one day, we’ll give a dog his bone and all come rolling home
But this is not a poem, see this? This is for all of those who’ll object so quietly
This is my list, my list of all that is wrong with modern society
Like haven’t you noticed the girls are half dressed, have breasts and show them freely
For beads? The boys have guns, have drugs, have bud & will go to jail still peewees
Little prostitutes and convicts bringing new meaning to the term “Pros and Cons”
This is for their innocence that was stole at dawn sold & gone their souls were pawned
But this is not a poem, see this? This is starting to get a little preachy
Don’t get me wrong, we all got our own demons and life is far from peachy
Life is full of brute traps so tighten your boot straps and don’t stop or move back
Get off that blue mat and do laps ‘cause the path to success is never a smooth path
Life is full of pressure and think of what it can do to us if it can bust through steel pipes
And although life can imitate art, art can never imitate real life
So this is not a poem, this is not a poem, see this? This is life

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