Denial

 A country in denial of its dying

In the nursing homes where no laws live,

In the streets where cops brook no law,

In stores where hate is only nine millimeters away,

In schools where active shooter drills punctuate adolescence 

With delusions of survival, like hiding under the desk

For when they dropped the bomb,

We have our children practice their deaths.

Deaths fertilized in offices

Where men whose corruption

Is only visible in the lives of their children

Live under the illusion of health

As stinging killing water pours from faucets

Mocking you with its wetness and illusion

Of life. 

A land where the presumption of normality

Is so revered that people die, choking out

With their last words denying their own living death

Breathing down upon them, 

And the slow mountainous collapse of Life itself, 

Life in any form 

Which humans know as living.

Our work, our children, and our lives worth living -

These are the enemies of life; they carry us

To our deaths. 

We are living

Bent on dying

As we lived,

Because a good death

Is the mark of a good life,

And we are good people.

Life is unbound

Within us.

blue oxford

blue oxford in my red jordans

and black jeans,

with my white skin,

now if only i had some green /

then you could call me america,

'cuz i'm versed in hysteria,

black and brown bodies crash barriers

as the world turns scarier /

white bodies turn carriers,

of that fear of the ulterior 

in the other, taught 

to them in the wombs of their mothers, 

/ so / that / makes / me /

exterior oppressive, interior surpressive,

the superior expressive 

emcee who's suprisingly aggressive /

with a relevant message,

a missive, abstract 

yet dismissive of the phony /

because i know you're sick / of the baloney,

and for this gift

you are not gonna owe me,

though i'm paid in full.

my rugs scarves and sweaters,

patagonian and irish wool

anduluvian, deep dyes of red 

and purple, swallow you up 

like the antediluvian.

i'm high as peruvian

'cuz my rhyme is vesuvian. yes

just for a moment i convert you all to romans

to bathe you 

in this flowing pyroclastic from my lips, 

all over your mental, and 

all the motion in your brain / is frozen by fire,

if it was my desire

the verse could make you expire

but my ambition is higher.

-----

.

---------

i'm malevolent.

so stunning like i'm heaven-sent.

luciferous, just like the president;

encrypted servers swallow all the evidence.

i will always be relevant

like the double vision

honyecombed in your melanin:

truth to lies to truth,

ignorant elders mendacious versus all the wise youth.

holy like a funeral pyre / when i'm in the booth,

so burn some incense for me.

zero reference,

keeping it present with the never-ending story

and my natural glory.

------

i don't care if you fool me, but just don't bore me.

now point me to 42nd street so /

i can magdeline where the whores be.

Burn my eyes out v2

burn my eyes out,

burn the lies out,

salt the earth,

summers coming, watch the ICE melt,

pound the pavement, bang the drum with a thigh bone,

whenever you see blue, you can spy chrome.

When I see the po, even though Im white as snow, I feel cold, 

because i know that if i wasn’t me, i could be in the death zone

how you think somebody feels / if their skin isn’t state approved? 

We know it takes all kinds, blacks and whites, reds and blues,

But let me issue what feels weird to say out loud but’s true:
the quote-unquote white race is centuries old fake news.

how many flowers, sitting shivas, mass graves, ghettos, concentration camps, riots,

new orleans funeral bands, wakes, cries of grief, 

services at synagogues, mosques, churches, temples, rituals, prayers and wreaths,

until that arc of the universe / is finally achieved?

I do believe.

But then I see a man with his life leaking out

cause his necks under a knee

I see and see 

What I saw 

And then I want to scream

I can’t ---

but always remember we got the dream, 

and you got a lie,

it might take a thousand years, 

but your kind is going bye, 

your tide is rising high, 

heres a coin for the boatman,

think you seen it all 

but youre blind, man, 

cant even see / 

your very own life, man.

donald trump and his kind might have their day

but their era of terror is doomed / to be  buried in the dust, 

burnt up like Pompeii,

ha, you think you’re alive? 

your kind’s just an empty impression / in the ash

for our great-great-great grandkids museums,

i learned it as a kid,

to every thing there is a season,

kids’ll spit on your grave

to bring the rhyme to completion.

Burn my eyes out

burn my eyes out,

burn the lies out,

salt the earth,

summers coming soon, watch the ICE melt,

pound the pavement, and bang the drum with a thigh bone,

any man needs shelter,

hes always welcome up in my home.

how come when theres blue 

i always spy chrome?

When I see the po, even though Im white as snow,

I feel cold, get too close 

and you go into the death zone.

so how you think a person feels

if their skin contains more melanin than mine? 

Now dont get it twisted, at the end of the day, 

cowardice and fear 

are color blind elements.

Ive seen all kinds, blacks and whites, reds and blues 

But the white race is just centuries old fake news,

it doesnt exist, but its still 

a dangerous concept,

thinking less of she or her or they or him and them,

its just so easy to be lenient,

because hatred is just / so convenient,

that anger flowing through your veins 

feels like such an easy win.

Dont be a Vader,

I hate the haters, 

sometimes i wish the president

would get ate by an alligator,

shit out orange diarrhea in the swamps of florida,

but those swamps are the graves

of Seminoles and warriors.

Murder and birth, 

being damn lazy, or putting in the work.

Staying down, 

or standing back up, despite the hurt.

Who had a flu game?

Who lied about nuclear weapons 

and financed Contras with that cocaine?

Whos on the night train?

Whos the true American?

Aint nobody perfect but we should try and do the right thing,

no excuses, the law no ones above it,

but when the systems fucked up

then there must be justice.

Now If youre of a cosmic turn, 

you might be relieved

to know that balance is always achieved,

the only question is 

how longs the trail of blood it leaves.

how many flowers, sitting shivas, mass graves camps and riots,

new orleans funeral bands and wakes and prayers and wreaths,

until that arc of the universe

is finally achieved?

I do believe.

But then I see a man with his life leaking out

cause his necks under a knee

But then I see and see and see 

What I saw 

And then I want to scream

Its all about the

cash rules everything around me,

so the cats making mad bank manipulate and shape

poor dumb suckers as cops, rats get a bit of cheese

to protect the cream, a dollar and a dream

But I see what you do

cause im sharp as a laser beam

And we got the dream, you got a lie,

it might take a thousand years, but your kind is going bye, 

your tide is rising high,

heres a coin for the boatman,

think you seen it all but youre blind man,

cant even see your very own life man,

so sha na na na, pyroclastic, here comes the lava,

yeah the donald trumps of the world might have their day

but their era of terror is doomed / to be burnt and buried in the dust

just like Pompeii,

ha, you think youre alive? 

youre just an empty impression in the ash

for my great great grandkids museum,

lies for no reason,

to every thing there is a season,

and when i spit on your grave

that'll bring my rhyme to completion

Gimme the loot / Mao Mao

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZzvL4O3uomg

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4mrkP3xgdc

Le Vietnam brûle / et moi je hurle Mao Mao
Johnson rigole / et moi je vole Mao Mao
Le napalm coule / et moi je roule Mao Mao
If you keep stallin' / my pistol go Blaow Blaow

Smoke Rings and Absinthe

Some/times when I’m feelin' hopeless I just pull out the pad,
and / scribble with the heart of the homeless and the soul of the mad. /
I spell smoke rings and absinthe, / expel folk rhythms and abstinence,
and excel at outlining the absence of what i used to call passion. /
An expert at self-manumission, I got my vision on a mission /
and I’ll leave you wishin’ for that intermission intercission / transmission /
to put a stop-and-frisk on this / verbal perdition. /

Y’all, I can’t take much more of this /plugged up /
in every orifice / I debase my flow /
with the whorishness, / USB ports filled /
y’all need more ordinance. /

But who hasn't ever seen HD porn / in the retina
4K glow glorious? /

I be of the screen / with the double vision. /
to leave you wishin’ for an intermittent intermission intercission transmission. /
Binocular optics go and capture the image, /
it's both obscene and serene,
is it salvation or a scheme? 
A dollar or a dream. Does it matter
if I take what I / need with cream /
or use the infrared beam? /

Sometimes I don't know, so I go rococo with the flow /
and like a Ghost in the Shell, dart in / for the fatal blow
like Motoko / Kusanagi,
with a small squad / we vanquish your whole army. /

But transhumanists are movie shit, quite extremely dubious /
your Rubicon is looming / yet i bet you’ll still want grooming. /
The brain is gay for pelvic movement
the flesh is set for gross confusion
the soul is braced for its illusion
the skin's got blues from a contusion. /
Putting it all aside
life ain’t a smooth ride, so muster up some pride /
and drop your faith by the road-side,
no one’ll take it / - you afraid to go naked?
Afraid to hug hatred? Afraid to flow aimless /
like a water droplet down to the basest /
ocean of serenity and commotion, /
the Dollar Tree and sons of Odin?
who’ll catch you holdin', Holden?

No stress, it’s just immutable, golden, / boasting
on the mic, it’s irrelevant right?
Well, / my slang stays elegant
and rugged as an elephant
shot for my tusks and now there’s hell to pay. /
So i think its time to wrap it up / and say
so long, farewell, aveetesay good day.

aabc

alphabetic analyst

i bomb / your / city / with the soul
of a pragmatist,

putting the boot to your door and

four to the floor to

achieve a high score /
start a new war,
make it like busta said,

 "gimme some more".