Words, Words, Words.

The most obvious note to self is to never do anything for the wrong reasons. Yes, moral relativity is a thing, but I think, intuitively, deep down within us, we all know what is wrong, what is right, what we really want. I don't know if I want to be an artist- do I honestly have the genuine temperament for it?-  but I have words. And I think they're for the right reasons. Here's a few, this time a few raps (not that I haven't already said this before, but I can) instead of the usual written poetry. Oh, and Vince, if you just happen to be reading this: I was the guy wearing the yellow 'Adventure Time' beanie. It was nice to meet you, and thanks for checking this out. What a wonderful talk you did at Harvard. 


Spirit Tree [Working Title]

I.

Listen to the glimmers of the solar system
Simmering murmurings stretching cross the universe, this is my vision
as a poet as a prophet with the lyrics man I copped it
caught a wave, detected it, and to this beat I drop it

this is the knowledge  I want you to acknowledge
the mystery the history delivery don't stop it
the project of this poetry demands your attention
so straighten up your back  as I take to you the 4th dimension

did I mention? did I mention? did I mention?
the marvelous sarcophagus of symphony I'm resurrecting?
bread that I'm baking and breaking; body be aching and shaking
savior's blood split into cups of wine the earth is quaking

fall back for a moment 'fore I go rogue like a ronin
cut you up and dice you up as smoothly as I'm flowing
fall back for moment 'fore I go that rolling stoning
inevitable, impenetrable mass of mass an ocean

a poet be a force that's mysterious
words stretching to the heavens is what constitutes a lyricist

a poet be a force that's mysterious
words stretching to the heavens is what constitutes a lyricist

A poet is a prophet
A rapper more than profit
the paper that I trap for
for's  this canvas boy that's honest

A poet is a prophet
A rapper more than profit
the paper that I trap for
for's  this canvas boy that's honest


II.

Take a wave of light and pass it through a double slit;
What do you get?  A world that we don't comprehend
Forget about it let's just go and cop those bands again
Money chasing 'nother way to stop asking ourselves again

Who are we? What is the space around me?
Pretty selfie on Instagram, we frozen dead we're zombies
Look at me, I'm not the captain, but I'm tired of these captions
What are we hoping to find in a world where we're the only thing we capture

Rap is the start of rapture; turn to the last chapter
Revelatory thoughts on this spacetime and matter
Wanna talk 'bout things that matter, not to ourselves flatter
Wanna make like a butterfly and metamorphosize and shatter

Our fake expectations and statements of the haters
Turn our shamelessness and fecklessness to breathlessness with paper
Talking' about dat poetry I talk it over beats
This is the end of fake news and the start of real philosophy

a poet be a force that's mysterious
words stretching to the heavens is what constitutes a lyricist

a poet be a force that's mysterious
words stretching to the heavens is what constitutes a lyricist

A poet is a prophet
A rapper more than profit
the paper that I trap for
for's  this canvas boy that's honest

A poet is a prophet
A rapper more than profit
the paper that I trap for
for's  this canvas boy that's honest

Image credit to whoever the hell was the fire photographer at Verbal Emancipation, thanks for making my Tinder profile a tad bit more interesting yay.

Verse from 'Lesson in Oppression' 

Young black brother from the motherland
Who plays stereotypes for Ariel Heights
Folk as they touch my hair and treat me like a no man
A nomad, who ventured to America through flights

(Leggo)
I spit all these bars 'hind systematic bars
And I spar with the fates of my stars as they spin
They spun years ago as they span ‘cross the skies
Navigating slaves ships with (        ) no oxygen
The blades cut yesterday, the wound bleeds today
Historical precedence don't simply fly away
When the winds of time sway only one way
To the moment when only through a song we can say

That all the paper stacked by the rappers and all the ballers
Is all blown away by the wind at the end of every autumn
I'm still recalling when the floods of Katrina had strange fruit falling
From the tops of houses to escape the waters
Then broke and drowning in their surroundings
Yet, still can't breathe when there ain't no mountain

High enough that we can't climb
High enough that we can't climb
All year I been on my grind
All year I been on my grind

They be lookin' at me crazy
Like my mind is hazy
'ginning of the year they called me Black Slim Shady
Never in the heads did they ever understand that who I wanna be is a young Jay-Z

But rapping's what's expected of someone as dark as me
Truth be told no respect from y’all 'til Harvard called me
But complaining's what's expected of someone as self aware as me
Truth be told half of y'all have eyes but can't see

That I've got a dream but I struggle to fulfill it
That I've been to the mountaintop and found that they still killing us
That to be judged by the content of my character
Only brings about laughter of a judge holding a gavel
That is clearly labeled 'master' so I been running faster
To kill slavery of thought so that I break apart this vault

(Here's the actual track courtesy of my friend, Audyo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJzfAZPo_NI . Check out the rest of his work here: https://www.soundcloud.com/aodillard ) Also, shout to Audyo  for getting me back to rappin' after nearly two years off it. Shout out to my current work partner Marcelo for getting me back to rappin' for nearly half a year off it. Let's see how long not off it I can make it this time.)

And thus concludes our brief interlude of the Ivy League wannabe rapper who still has overdue essays to complete.