My money’s been acting funny lately
Now I don’t mean haha funny
No, I’m talking strange, weird, different type funny
This time money’s gone all out
Leaving me, showing up, then leaving as quickly as she came
Ignoring me. Treating me like a poor man.
What’d I do boo?
All I ever did was love you
Maybe too much ‘cause now it’s like we ain’t cool no more
We used to be road dogs, inseparable
But lately my money’s been acting funny
And I haven’t seen money in months
I got more than a hunch she’s playing me
Trying to make me jealous
Hanging out with other fellas
Always in some other brother’s pocket
I try and tell her man those other guys,
Those other guys are just using her
They just using you money!
She don’t wanna hear me
She doesn’t even return my phone calls
She doesn’t stop by the crib like she used to
She won’t go to movies with me
She won’t even go get nothing to eat
And you know a brother can’t eat without money
Don’t you know I miss you?
I want you. Okay I need you to survive
My life revolves around you
I can’t replace you money believe me I’ve tried.
There’s only so much bread and water I can take
Call me spoiled, but I remember the days
When people used to see us at the hottest clubs
Expensive restaurants, all the high priced stores
I made sure I looked good with money
I treated you right!
I never abused you.
Did I?
Did I abuse you money?
Did I get used to you hanging around
And now you’re giving me a taste to what it feels like to live without you?
People still think we’re tight
I mean they still ask about you
I don’t like them all in my business so I just reply,
“You know money and I aren’t as close as we used to be.”
My money’s been acting funny lately
I can’t even call out a name when I’m shootin’ ball
Oh, I saw her the other day in Beverly Hills
She ain’t even acknowledge me
She looked at me like, “How you get in Beverly Hills?”
Like I don’t belong
Ever since money hasn’t been around
I feel like I’m losing my other friends too
American Express, Visa, Discover
Now they startin’ to act shady
I think she’s spreading lies on me
I tell you I don’t know what I did
But my money’s been acting real funny lately
And I don’t know her anymore
And my life ain’t the same
Never will be the same until money comes back into my life
So if you see her, or any of her cousins
‘Cause she got a whole bunch of family running around
Let her know that I miss her, that I love her
And I want her to come home
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Lyrics of "Dating Myself" by Poetri
Everywhere I go, I see cute people with ugly people
And I can’t help but to ask myself, “what does she see in that guy?”
Inner beauty? Well I have a whole lot of that.
I see these happy couples and I used to think, “what do I have to do to get a girl like that?”
And then that evolved into, “what do I have to do to get a girl?”
Now I’m exhausted from thinking
Fatigued from trying to convince myself that I’m worthy of another being
Tired of looking but not really looking so it doesn’t appear that I’m desperate
Weary of being afraid to tell someone that I’m interested
In fear that they will avoid me
Consumed from being alone
No longer will I be at the mercy of women to like me
No longer will I try to look my best for women that don’t know that I’m in love with them
No, all that is finished. Finito. Complete-o, no more-o
From now on, I’m dating myself
I mean I’ve already talked to myself so I know my conversations will be good
I’ve always said I wanted to be with someone that’s just like me
Well, there’s no one more like me than me
It’s not like I’m dating my cousin or nothing
I looked it up. There’s nothing in the law books that say a man can’t date himself
I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before
I amaze myself sometimes
I laugh and joke with myself on a lonely day
Praying hard for better days
Now we can get through the rough times together
No one to impress but myself
I mean I’ll probably still play games with myself
Cry to myself, lie to myself ‘cause I hate to hurt myself’s feelings
I’ll only be looking out for myself though
But you know how women are
Once they see you with someone, all sudden, now they wanna get with ya
All sudden I’m that cute guy that is dating someone now
Well I assure you I’m not doing this to make other women jealous
I am completely happy with myself
I like myself. I think I’m attractive.
Plan to be with myself ‘til the very end
Or until someone better comes along
And I can’t help but to ask myself, “what does she see in that guy?”
Inner beauty? Well I have a whole lot of that.
I see these happy couples and I used to think, “what do I have to do to get a girl like that?”
And then that evolved into, “what do I have to do to get a girl?”
Now I’m exhausted from thinking
Fatigued from trying to convince myself that I’m worthy of another being
Tired of looking but not really looking so it doesn’t appear that I’m desperate
Weary of being afraid to tell someone that I’m interested
In fear that they will avoid me
Consumed from being alone
No longer will I be at the mercy of women to like me
No longer will I try to look my best for women that don’t know that I’m in love with them
No, all that is finished. Finito. Complete-o, no more-o
From now on, I’m dating myself
I mean I’ve already talked to myself so I know my conversations will be good
I’ve always said I wanted to be with someone that’s just like me
Well, there’s no one more like me than me
It’s not like I’m dating my cousin or nothing
I looked it up. There’s nothing in the law books that say a man can’t date himself
I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before
I amaze myself sometimes
I laugh and joke with myself on a lonely day
Praying hard for better days
Now we can get through the rough times together
No one to impress but myself
I mean I’ll probably still play games with myself
Cry to myself, lie to myself ‘cause I hate to hurt myself’s feelings
I’ll only be looking out for myself though
But you know how women are
Once they see you with someone, all sudden, now they wanna get with ya
All sudden I’m that cute guy that is dating someone now
Well I assure you I’m not doing this to make other women jealous
I am completely happy with myself
I like myself. I think I’m attractive.
Plan to be with myself ‘til the very end
Or until someone better comes along
Monday, November 17, 2008
Lyrics of "Where I'm From" by Lemon
Part 1:
Yo, where I’m from,
Where I’m from is known as the borough of royalty
The infinite party rocker
The home of Big Poppa, ’92 door knockers
We stick our middle finger up in the air
For that little bitch named John Rocker
See, I’m from the county of kings
Where every day we know we fortunate
If we see another morning
We take our nieces, our nephews
Put ‘em under our wing
Send them out in that world hopin’ they keep that grass green
The county of kings
Hometown to the best fighters who ever stepped in the ring
We are still the land of the angriest blacks, puerto ricans
Baggiest Phat Farmers, craziest baby mamas
Fire escapes, bootleg cd’s and tapes
We will always have the worst crooked cops
We will always have the best weed spots
The county of kings
New school like Bloods and Crypts
But we old school like the Savage Skulls and Ching-a-lings
The crazy girls in black pearls
Shit we go way back like He-Man underwears
BBD’s and Lee’s
Bums call peabody
‘Cause if you ever go to the county of kings
Your ass better pass by Flatbush
And pick me up a vegetable patty with coco bread
And all the brown fried chicken wings
I want y’all to tip the eight year old kid outside
Dancing Uptown shaking it up ‘cause that’s the way he makes his living
See the county of kings is not the house
It’s the home where I rest
So when I yell out for Brooklyn, New York City
I want to hear always Funky fresh, fresh, fresh, fresh
Part 2:
This is not about the murders, the convicts,
The three time loser, the first time felon or the skit bidder
This is not about the CO’s, the wardens, the commissary
The Crips, the Bloods, the Kings
Or how much time you got on the phone homie
This is not about the DA, or the Legal Aid, fuck them
After they done railroading your ass up north
They go to lunch together anyway
This poem is as priceless as a carton of cigarettes
And a brand new pair of creased greens
This is a toast to freedom
Just ‘cause you’re locked up don’t mean you can’t be free
Matter of fact, the first day of your bid the options are available
The door’s wide open
You could be Muslim, and sing a song to raise the sun
You could be five percent and understand
That the mathematics behind the language of kemetics is that it is the original tongue of man
My brother, you could be a Christian
And go from being Catholic to being confused
To knowing the only way is to fear God
And you got nothing to lose, everything to gain
Can I get a witness?
You could be a Nazi and hate all of the above
But we don’t get much of those ‘round here
Plus the Israelites’ll set that ass straight
But you got to believe in something
You got to believe in something
Or you will be a rhythmless void
So here’s a toast to my God
And all of y’all who played a yard
May your word be born and may you find
That the Lord may not come when you call
But he’s always on time
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MIeLPsyprJE
Yo, where I’m from,
Where I’m from is known as the borough of royalty
The infinite party rocker
The home of Big Poppa, ’92 door knockers
We stick our middle finger up in the air
For that little bitch named John Rocker
See, I’m from the county of kings
Where every day we know we fortunate
If we see another morning
We take our nieces, our nephews
Put ‘em under our wing
Send them out in that world hopin’ they keep that grass green
The county of kings
Hometown to the best fighters who ever stepped in the ring
We are still the land of the angriest blacks, puerto ricans
Baggiest Phat Farmers, craziest baby mamas
Fire escapes, bootleg cd’s and tapes
We will always have the worst crooked cops
We will always have the best weed spots
The county of kings
New school like Bloods and Crypts
But we old school like the Savage Skulls and Ching-a-lings
The crazy girls in black pearls
Shit we go way back like He-Man underwears
BBD’s and Lee’s
Bums call peabody
‘Cause if you ever go to the county of kings
Your ass better pass by Flatbush
And pick me up a vegetable patty with coco bread
And all the brown fried chicken wings
I want y’all to tip the eight year old kid outside
Dancing Uptown shaking it up ‘cause that’s the way he makes his living
See the county of kings is not the house
It’s the home where I rest
So when I yell out for Brooklyn, New York City
I want to hear always Funky fresh, fresh, fresh, fresh
Part 2:
This is not about the murders, the convicts,
The three time loser, the first time felon or the skit bidder
This is not about the CO’s, the wardens, the commissary
The Crips, the Bloods, the Kings
Or how much time you got on the phone homie
This is not about the DA, or the Legal Aid, fuck them
After they done railroading your ass up north
They go to lunch together anyway
This poem is as priceless as a carton of cigarettes
And a brand new pair of creased greens
This is a toast to freedom
Just ‘cause you’re locked up don’t mean you can’t be free
Matter of fact, the first day of your bid the options are available
The door’s wide open
You could be Muslim, and sing a song to raise the sun
You could be five percent and understand
That the mathematics behind the language of kemetics is that it is the original tongue of man
My brother, you could be a Christian
And go from being Catholic to being confused
To knowing the only way is to fear God
And you got nothing to lose, everything to gain
Can I get a witness?
You could be a Nazi and hate all of the above
But we don’t get much of those ‘round here
Plus the Israelites’ll set that ass straight
But you got to believe in something
You got to believe in something
Or you will be a rhythmless void
So here’s a toast to my God
And all of y’all who played a yard
May your word be born and may you find
That the Lord may not come when you call
But he’s always on time
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MIeLPsyprJE
Lyrics of "I Apologize" by Oscar Brown Jr.
I apologize for being black
All I am plus all I lack
Please sir, please m’am
Give me some slack
‘Cause I apologize
I apologize for being poor
For being sick and tired and sore
Since I ain’t slick
Don’t know the score
I do apologize
I apologize because I bear
Resemblance most black people share
Thick lips, flat nose, and nappy hair
Yes I apologize
I apologize for how I look
For all of the lows and blows I took
On those Lord knows I’d close the book
As I apologize
I apologize for all I gave
For letting you make me yo’ slave
And going to my early grave
Yes I apologize
I apologize for being caught
For being sold, for being bought
For being told I count for naught
Yeah I apologize
I apologize for all I’ve done
For all my toil out in the sun
Don’t want to spoil your righteous fun
So I apologize
I apologize and curse my kind
For being fooled, for being blind
For being ruled, and in your bind
Yes I apologize
I apologize and curse my feet
For being slow, for being late
Because I know it’s me you hate
Why not apologize
I apologize and tip my hat
‘Cause you so rich and free and fat
Son of a bitch, that’s where it’s at
And I apologize
All I am plus all I lack
Please sir, please m’am
Give me some slack
‘Cause I apologize
I apologize for being poor
For being sick and tired and sore
Since I ain’t slick
Don’t know the score
I do apologize
I apologize because I bear
Resemblance most black people share
Thick lips, flat nose, and nappy hair
Yes I apologize
I apologize for how I look
For all of the lows and blows I took
On those Lord knows I’d close the book
As I apologize
I apologize for all I gave
For letting you make me yo’ slave
And going to my early grave
Yes I apologize
I apologize for being caught
For being sold, for being bought
For being told I count for naught
Yeah I apologize
I apologize for all I’ve done
For all my toil out in the sun
Don’t want to spoil your righteous fun
So I apologize
I apologize and curse my kind
For being fooled, for being blind
For being ruled, and in your bind
Yes I apologize
I apologize and curse my feet
For being slow, for being late
Because I know it’s me you hate
Why not apologize
I apologize and tip my hat
‘Cause you so rich and free and fat
Son of a bitch, that’s where it’s at
And I apologize
New Honors Program
A competitive honors program is to be instituted at Middlesex County College as of the beginning of its Spring 2009 semester. The program is geared toward students who are interested in transferring to four-year colleges and universities nationwide. However, there are certain requirements the students must meet in order to become part of the program. Students must have either achieved a score of 1,200 on the Scholastic Aptitude Test or have a minimum grade point average of 3.5.
The reason for the institution of such a program is to create a competition amongst the students who plan to transfer to four-year colleges and universities from MCC. Mathew Spano, an associate professor of English and co-director of the honors program stated, “The goals of the program are to offer greater opportunity for more innovative teaching; ancillary activities to enhance learning; provide additional community-service opportunities for students; attract and retain higher-achieving students and increase public awareness of the value of a MCC education.”
The program requires the completion of Honors courses in various formats. Students can take one honors course, follow a departmental program (which includes three courses in a single discipline), or participate in “Full Honors” by completing five Honors courses in three different areas and participating in an Honors seminar. The following courses will be included in the honors program as of Spring 2009: Mythology and Literature, Political Thought in America and English II (Writing About Survival).
The reason for the institution of such a program is to create a competition amongst the students who plan to transfer to four-year colleges and universities from MCC. Mathew Spano, an associate professor of English and co-director of the honors program stated, “The goals of the program are to offer greater opportunity for more innovative teaching; ancillary activities to enhance learning; provide additional community-service opportunities for students; attract and retain higher-achieving students and increase public awareness of the value of a MCC education.”
The program requires the completion of Honors courses in various formats. Students can take one honors course, follow a departmental program (which includes three courses in a single discipline), or participate in “Full Honors” by completing five Honors courses in three different areas and participating in an Honors seminar. The following courses will be included in the honors program as of Spring 2009: Mythology and Literature, Political Thought in America and English II (Writing About Survival).
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Lyrics of "This Type Love" by Shihan
I want a love like
Me thinking of you
Thinking of me thinking of you type love
Or me telling my friends more than I’ve ever admitted to myself
About how I feel about you type love
Or hating how jealous you are
But loving how much you want me all to yourself type love
Or see how your first name just sound so good next to my last name
And shit I wanted to see how far I could get without calling you
And I barely made it out of my garage
See, I want a love that makes me wait until she falls asleep
And wonder if she’s dreaming about us being in love type love
Or who loves the other more
Or what she’s doing this exact moment
Or slow dancing in the middle of our apartment to the music of our hearts
Closing my eyes and imagining how a love so good
Could hurt so much when she’s not there
And shit I love not knowing where this love is headed type love
And check this, I want to place those little post-it notes
All around the how she she never forgets how much I love her type love
And not have enough ink in my pen to write all there is to love about her type love
And hope I make her feel as good as she makes me feel
And I want to deal with my friends making fun of me
The way I made fun of them when they went through the same kind of love type love
Only difference is, this is one of those real love type loves
And just like in high school
I want to spend hours on the phone not saying shit
And then fall asleep and then wake up with her right next to me
And smell her all up in my covers type love
I want to try counting the ways I love her
And lose count in the middle just so I have to start all over again
And I want to celebrate one of those one month anniversaries
Even though they ain’t really anniversaries
But doing it just ‘cause it make her happy type love
And, check this, I want to fall in love with the melody the phone plays
When none of us dialed into it type love
And talk to you until I lose my breathe
She leaves me breathless
But with the expanding of my lungs I inhale all of her back into me
I want a love that makes me need to change my cell phone calling plan
To something allows me to talk to her longer
‘cause in all honesty, I want to avoid one of them high cell phone bill type loves
And I want a love that makes me regret how small my hands are
I mean the lines on my palms don’t give me enough time
To love you as long as I’d like to type love
And I want a love that makes me st-st-st-st-stutter
Just thinking about how strong this love is type love
And I want a love that makes me want to cut off all my hair
Well, maybe not all of the hair
Maybe like I cut the split ends and trim my moustache
But it would still be a symbol of how strong my love for her
And check this, I kind of feel comfortable now
So I even be fantasizing about walking out on a green light
Just dying to get hit by a car
Just so I could lose my memory
Get transported to some third world country just to get treated
Then somehow meet up again with you so I can fall in love with you
In a different language and see if it still feels the same type love
I want a love that’s as unexplainable as she is
But I’m married, so she’s gonna be the one I share this love with
Me thinking of you
Thinking of me thinking of you type love
Or me telling my friends more than I’ve ever admitted to myself
About how I feel about you type love
Or hating how jealous you are
But loving how much you want me all to yourself type love
Or see how your first name just sound so good next to my last name
And shit I wanted to see how far I could get without calling you
And I barely made it out of my garage
See, I want a love that makes me wait until she falls asleep
And wonder if she’s dreaming about us being in love type love
Or who loves the other more
Or what she’s doing this exact moment
Or slow dancing in the middle of our apartment to the music of our hearts
Closing my eyes and imagining how a love so good
Could hurt so much when she’s not there
And shit I love not knowing where this love is headed type love
And check this, I want to place those little post-it notes
All around the how she she never forgets how much I love her type love
And not have enough ink in my pen to write all there is to love about her type love
And hope I make her feel as good as she makes me feel
And I want to deal with my friends making fun of me
The way I made fun of them when they went through the same kind of love type love
Only difference is, this is one of those real love type loves
And just like in high school
I want to spend hours on the phone not saying shit
And then fall asleep and then wake up with her right next to me
And smell her all up in my covers type love
I want to try counting the ways I love her
And lose count in the middle just so I have to start all over again
And I want to celebrate one of those one month anniversaries
Even though they ain’t really anniversaries
But doing it just ‘cause it make her happy type love
And, check this, I want to fall in love with the melody the phone plays
When none of us dialed into it type love
And talk to you until I lose my breathe
She leaves me breathless
But with the expanding of my lungs I inhale all of her back into me
I want a love that makes me need to change my cell phone calling plan
To something allows me to talk to her longer
‘cause in all honesty, I want to avoid one of them high cell phone bill type loves
And I want a love that makes me regret how small my hands are
I mean the lines on my palms don’t give me enough time
To love you as long as I’d like to type love
And I want a love that makes me st-st-st-st-stutter
Just thinking about how strong this love is type love
And I want a love that makes me want to cut off all my hair
Well, maybe not all of the hair
Maybe like I cut the split ends and trim my moustache
But it would still be a symbol of how strong my love for her
And check this, I kind of feel comfortable now
So I even be fantasizing about walking out on a green light
Just dying to get hit by a car
Just so I could lose my memory
Get transported to some third world country just to get treated
Then somehow meet up again with you so I can fall in love with you
In a different language and see if it still feels the same type love
I want a love that’s as unexplainable as she is
But I’m married, so she’s gonna be the one I share this love with
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Lyrics of "The Beach" by Oscar Brown Jr.
And now, I’ve landed on this beach
It takes sixty odd years to reach
As this generation of mine
is ordered on to life’s front line
The targets of a fusillade
that force us to think of God
Reluctantly we storm this beach
Advancing to fill up the breach
Created by that fallen corp
Of elders who charged here before
While we enjoyed our middle age
We moved from fire, we now engage
A withering barrage rakes this beach
Its bullets bear the names of each
Of those who set foot on these sands
Old general calendar commands
Advancing to a sure defeat
Without The option to retreat
We knew, before we hit this beach
The enemy that we besiege
Has ammunition for us all
Who has casualties must fall
Not one will manage to survive
Nobody leaves this beach alive
For those arriving on this beach
There is no prayer to pray or preach
To beg us off in any tongue
Since we’ve outlived dying young
And for surviving, in exchange
Now face the fire at point blank range
The witness we bear on this beach
Has only one lesson to teach
Here the carnage never stops
As everyday another drops
Some classmate, relative, or friend
Whose attack comes to abrupt end
So on into the breach my peers
Who knows how many weeks or years
Remain ‘til you and I are hit
As we inch onward bit by bit
We only know our lives will bleach
Eternally out on this beach
It takes sixty odd years to reach
As this generation of mine
is ordered on to life’s front line
The targets of a fusillade
that force us to think of God
Reluctantly we storm this beach
Advancing to fill up the breach
Created by that fallen corp
Of elders who charged here before
While we enjoyed our middle age
We moved from fire, we now engage
A withering barrage rakes this beach
Its bullets bear the names of each
Of those who set foot on these sands
Old general calendar commands
Advancing to a sure defeat
Without The option to retreat
We knew, before we hit this beach
The enemy that we besiege
Has ammunition for us all
Who has casualties must fall
Not one will manage to survive
Nobody leaves this beach alive
For those arriving on this beach
There is no prayer to pray or preach
To beg us off in any tongue
Since we’ve outlived dying young
And for surviving, in exchange
Now face the fire at point blank range
The witness we bear on this beach
Has only one lesson to teach
Here the carnage never stops
As everyday another drops
Some classmate, relative, or friend
Whose attack comes to abrupt end
So on into the breach my peers
Who knows how many weeks or years
Remain ‘til you and I are hit
As we inch onward bit by bit
We only know our lives will bleach
Eternally out on this beach
Lyrics of "Somewhere There Is A Poem" by Gina Loring
Somewhere there is a poem
And I want to write this poem
I want to speak this poem
I want to feel this poem
I want to experience this poem
Cradle it in my arms
Feed it a good meal
And send it on its merry way
I want to sing this poem
“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound”
Somewhere there is a poem screaming
Get up, stand up
Stand up for your rights
Human beings, human beings
Beings being so
Caught up in the tangible material surface
Or that they never actually feel
Their touch is liquid and grazes right through
But misses the core
This poem whispers to me
And rocks me to sleep
And tells me stories of indigenous people
Diseased and tricked and slaughtered
And made to be extinct
But this ain’t no pterodactyl
Or tyrannosaurus rex blood flowing through my veins
I am a Creek American Indian
I exist
I am an African
I am an old Jewish woman muttering prayers in Yiddish
As my name is replaced with a number on my arm
I am a little Japanese girl
Staring in horror
As my village is bombed and burnt to the ground
I was born in India, but not to the right caste
So regardless of what I accomplish
I will always be a peasant
I died in Mexico three feet from the border
Gunned down by evil troops
Who shoot for a living
Who sacrifice their souls for
The man-made boundaries of these Americas
Somewhere, there is a poem somewhere
Dozing in subway stations
And flying high on a 405
And taking the L to Brooklyn
The 15 to Vegas
And the Marter through Atlanta
And cruising down a dark street in Oakland is a poem
This poem comes from somewhere deep
Somewhere where the angels sleep
Where pixies dance and mermaids weep
Where hymns are hummed
So God will keep us all in mind on Judgment Day
This poem warns, but does not sway
For what you do is up to you
Where you go and who you know
If you close up, or if you grow
Somewhere there is a poem about the insanity
Of war, Hiroshima, Hiroshima
Hero, hero, war hero
Hero-, hero-, heroin is
Crack cocaine is
The systematic genocide of my people
Brown skin behind bars
Locked up behind bars
Trapped behind bars
And slaves behind bars
Kept in lines behind bars
Counted behind bars
Bars, there are more bars
Selling alcohol on a single reservation in Oklahoma
Than in all of Ventura county, county
Counting me in ‘cause I’m down for the revolution
Which may not be televised
And may not get radio play
But it will be told through poetry
‘Cause somewhere there is a poem
This poem speaks to me and draws me in
Like an amusement park to a kid
I want to freak this poem and dream this poem
And share it with y’all
Hold up, shhhhh
I just did
And I want to write this poem
I want to speak this poem
I want to feel this poem
I want to experience this poem
Cradle it in my arms
Feed it a good meal
And send it on its merry way
I want to sing this poem
“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound”
Somewhere there is a poem screaming
Get up, stand up
Stand up for your rights
Human beings, human beings
Beings being so
Caught up in the tangible material surface
Or that they never actually feel
Their touch is liquid and grazes right through
But misses the core
This poem whispers to me
And rocks me to sleep
And tells me stories of indigenous people
Diseased and tricked and slaughtered
And made to be extinct
But this ain’t no pterodactyl
Or tyrannosaurus rex blood flowing through my veins
I am a Creek American Indian
I exist
I am an African
I am an old Jewish woman muttering prayers in Yiddish
As my name is replaced with a number on my arm
I am a little Japanese girl
Staring in horror
As my village is bombed and burnt to the ground
I was born in India, but not to the right caste
So regardless of what I accomplish
I will always be a peasant
I died in Mexico three feet from the border
Gunned down by evil troops
Who shoot for a living
Who sacrifice their souls for
The man-made boundaries of these Americas
Somewhere, there is a poem somewhere
Dozing in subway stations
And flying high on a 405
And taking the L to Brooklyn
The 15 to Vegas
And the Marter through Atlanta
And cruising down a dark street in Oakland is a poem
This poem comes from somewhere deep
Somewhere where the angels sleep
Where pixies dance and mermaids weep
Where hymns are hummed
So God will keep us all in mind on Judgment Day
This poem warns, but does not sway
For what you do is up to you
Where you go and who you know
If you close up, or if you grow
Somewhere there is a poem about the insanity
Of war, Hiroshima, Hiroshima
Hero, hero, war hero
Hero-, hero-, heroin is
Crack cocaine is
The systematic genocide of my people
Brown skin behind bars
Locked up behind bars
Trapped behind bars
And slaves behind bars
Kept in lines behind bars
Counted behind bars
Bars, there are more bars
Selling alcohol on a single reservation in Oklahoma
Than in all of Ventura county, county
Counting me in ‘cause I’m down for the revolution
Which may not be televised
And may not get radio play
But it will be told through poetry
‘Cause somewhere there is a poem
This poem speaks to me and draws me in
Like an amusement park to a kid
I want to freak this poem and dream this poem
And share it with y’all
Hold up, shhhhh
I just did
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Lyrics of "Poetic Bloodline" by Gemineye
One night, God came to me in a dream
With a scheme that seemed to be out of this world
He approached me and opened his robe
And showed me a hypodermic needle in the shape of a pen
And my first reaction was to step back fast
But then God grabbed me and said
“Slow down my child,
I’ve got a job for you to do”
And with a burst of light God grabbed my arm
And said “I mean you no harm”
And he pushed the pen in
And it filled my arteries and God charted me
To write some new shit, some true shit, something just for you shit
And when I was done with part one
God said “write some part two shit”
He injected me with Billy’s Blues and a muse of Langston Hughes
And God said “you’ve acquired some of the tools in the school you’ve been attending
But now it’s time to stop pretending”
And he started sending into my bloodstream
The poetic feats of John Keats
And the published greats of W.B. Yeats
And just when I thought God was through
He started slipping me hits of Maya Angelou
And God asked “do you know what I’ve handed you?”
And my response was “No” and God said “let me show”
And he continued to fill my veins the same way he had been
Giving me a fix of Emily Dickenson and my bloodstream seemed to scream
As God gave me the liquidated literary genius of W.E.B.
And I got lost between doses of Robert Frost
And my eyes got blurry in a flurry
And I was no longer seeing ‘em but I could feel Emerson, Tennyson, and Stevenson
And God said “you won’t get far without Paul Orange Dunbar
And you can’t start spittin ‘til I’ve given you Whitman”
And God kept filling me and it felt like he was killing me
And I closed my arm tight and God snapped it back open
And screamed “you’re not yet ready to write”
He said “tonight has just begun
Everything’s alright my son
You see I need you
I use poetry to teach people
The world I created has been overrun by ignorant thinking
And I need poets to take the world back and break the curse
Now unbend your arm so I can give you William Wordsworth”
And again the pen was shoved in my veins and God grabbed the reigns
And as if I was a mule
He said “I use you as my tool and plow the field with you
Fulfilling empty minds’ needs while planting knowledge seeds
No longer will there be a flourishing time for malnourishing minds
I want you to make intelligence a law cuz ignorance is a crime
Now I need you to go and reap what you sow
While captivating minds like Edgar Allen Poe
I gave you the wings so now fly like the raven
This world needs saving
Feel free to fight off your fears
Cuz they’ll disappear within this injection
Of my tears which contains the remains of great things gone
And new things to come beyond the next dawn
You’re the next in a bloodline of greats
You are a poet
You command the attention of large groups
You ready the troops for revolution
You write words that can commend or condemn
Turn boys into men
Make other poets push pens
And you must be about something more than slam scores based on ten
Because you are a poet
Think about all the great things poets have accomplished
And when the writing gets rough
Hold on to your pen
And don’t drop this
Always take time in your mind to reflect back on the fact
That you’re the next to step forth
From a poetic bloodline”
With a scheme that seemed to be out of this world
He approached me and opened his robe
And showed me a hypodermic needle in the shape of a pen
And my first reaction was to step back fast
But then God grabbed me and said
“Slow down my child,
I’ve got a job for you to do”
And with a burst of light God grabbed my arm
And said “I mean you no harm”
And he pushed the pen in
And it filled my arteries and God charted me
To write some new shit, some true shit, something just for you shit
And when I was done with part one
God said “write some part two shit”
He injected me with Billy’s Blues and a muse of Langston Hughes
And God said “you’ve acquired some of the tools in the school you’ve been attending
But now it’s time to stop pretending”
And he started sending into my bloodstream
The poetic feats of John Keats
And the published greats of W.B. Yeats
And just when I thought God was through
He started slipping me hits of Maya Angelou
And God asked “do you know what I’ve handed you?”
And my response was “No” and God said “let me show”
And he continued to fill my veins the same way he had been
Giving me a fix of Emily Dickenson and my bloodstream seemed to scream
As God gave me the liquidated literary genius of W.E.B.
And I got lost between doses of Robert Frost
And my eyes got blurry in a flurry
And I was no longer seeing ‘em but I could feel Emerson, Tennyson, and Stevenson
And God said “you won’t get far without Paul Orange Dunbar
And you can’t start spittin ‘til I’ve given you Whitman”
And God kept filling me and it felt like he was killing me
And I closed my arm tight and God snapped it back open
And screamed “you’re not yet ready to write”
He said “tonight has just begun
Everything’s alright my son
You see I need you
I use poetry to teach people
The world I created has been overrun by ignorant thinking
And I need poets to take the world back and break the curse
Now unbend your arm so I can give you William Wordsworth”
And again the pen was shoved in my veins and God grabbed the reigns
And as if I was a mule
He said “I use you as my tool and plow the field with you
Fulfilling empty minds’ needs while planting knowledge seeds
No longer will there be a flourishing time for malnourishing minds
I want you to make intelligence a law cuz ignorance is a crime
Now I need you to go and reap what you sow
While captivating minds like Edgar Allen Poe
I gave you the wings so now fly like the raven
This world needs saving
Feel free to fight off your fears
Cuz they’ll disappear within this injection
Of my tears which contains the remains of great things gone
And new things to come beyond the next dawn
You’re the next in a bloodline of greats
You are a poet
You command the attention of large groups
You ready the troops for revolution
You write words that can commend or condemn
Turn boys into men
Make other poets push pens
And you must be about something more than slam scores based on ten
Because you are a poet
Think about all the great things poets have accomplished
And when the writing gets rough
Hold on to your pen
And don’t drop this
Always take time in your mind to reflect back on the fact
That you’re the next to step forth
From a poetic bloodline”
Lyrics of "What Are You Fighting For?" by Gemineye
I would stand to miss the fists on the battlefield
Among an army of red and an army of blue
And I stand tall and true
As I ask you
What are you fighting for?
This four foot by four foot concrete block
You’re arguing for and bartering for
Is merely a prison without bars
That still manages to arrest you by
Confining your mind
And you allow this corner to define you
And now you’re redefining yourself by calling yourself a street corner
Entrepreneur
And I ask you
What are you fighting for?
You see now you’re standing on corners
I used to call my own corners
I once considered a safe zone
And now, I’m too afraid to let my mother walk to the store alone
Cuz these streets
They’re covered with cowardly fake gangsters
And I’m angered at the nonsense
That rag on your head is somehow
Keeping knowledge from seeping into your brain
Don’t you see that you’re dying for nothing
Rather than living for something
You’re self-destructing and just fucking your own self over
And I ask you
What are you fighting for?
You’re waging wars over something that never was and never will be yours
Cuz owning the streets is just a fictitious concept
That gets misused by hip-hop dudes
Trying to pass themselves off as reincarnated gangsters
So, contrary to popular belief
no matter how deep your gang is or how much money
you’ll think you’ll make from crack rocks
The only concrete rocks you’ll ever own
are the ones that come with steel bars
Or the ones we call tombstones
So I guess the only decision left for you to choose is whether
The fabric in your casket should be red or blue
And I ask you
What are you dying for?
Among an army of red and an army of blue
And I stand tall and true
As I ask you
What are you fighting for?
This four foot by four foot concrete block
You’re arguing for and bartering for
Is merely a prison without bars
That still manages to arrest you by
Confining your mind
And you allow this corner to define you
And now you’re redefining yourself by calling yourself a street corner
Entrepreneur
And I ask you
What are you fighting for?
You see now you’re standing on corners
I used to call my own corners
I once considered a safe zone
And now, I’m too afraid to let my mother walk to the store alone
Cuz these streets
They’re covered with cowardly fake gangsters
And I’m angered at the nonsense
That rag on your head is somehow
Keeping knowledge from seeping into your brain
Don’t you see that you’re dying for nothing
Rather than living for something
You’re self-destructing and just fucking your own self over
And I ask you
What are you fighting for?
You’re waging wars over something that never was and never will be yours
Cuz owning the streets is just a fictitious concept
That gets misused by hip-hop dudes
Trying to pass themselves off as reincarnated gangsters
So, contrary to popular belief
no matter how deep your gang is or how much money
you’ll think you’ll make from crack rocks
The only concrete rocks you’ll ever own
are the ones that come with steel bars
Or the ones we call tombstones
So I guess the only decision left for you to choose is whether
The fabric in your casket should be red or blue
And I ask you
What are you dying for?
Lyrics of "Penny for Your Thoughts" by Gemineye
Can I have a penny, for your thoughts?
As a matter of fact how about three
One penny for you
One penny for me
And one penny for our minds engaged
Not so sexually
Getting intimately closer
As we approach the climactic altitude
Of nude mental sensational conversation
cuz I’m trying to get to know everything about you
from the neck UP
So these are not your typical sexual poetical prose
I’m trying to close the door of an all too familiar freaky foreplay game
With which most people have chosen to approach you
While they’re trying to get deeply embedded in the fine fibers of your bed sheets
I’m trying to find and define the fibers with which your mind speaks
I want to engage you by putting a two carat solitaire diamond on your mind
and marrying your every thought
I want to lick every inch of every crevice so I can get an oral fix from each orifice
and taste your passionate imagination
I’d rather be naked and exposed holding you as we’re lying
And your crying while confiding and describing the tough times you had in life
And how you don’t know if you can keep a relationship
Long enough to be somebody’s wife
I want to feel the heartbeat of all your inner rhythms as they lead me towards your
warm wet waterfalls of feminine thoughts
And I’ll swim within ‘em from back strokes to breast strokes
I’m penetrating every entrance to your mind
Taking my time to find out everything about you
Did I ever tell you about how you fell asleep in my presence?
And your mere essence kept me up for hours
As I coward with this feel of a sexually unadulterated mental connection
And as you laid by my side I pushed my blinds aside
And took the time in the moonlight of that night
To county seventy-two eyelashes on the upper eyelid of your right eye
Because as you sleep
As you sleep they remain open slightly
And while we probably move too quickly into some sexual stuff
I’ve always cared more about the explicitly illicitness
that came from between your lips meaning your voice
so now I’m standing here ready to trade in all the sexual acts that we perform
for the chance to reform the very foundation and basis of our relationship
and I reiterate my opening statement
And I offer you another penny for your thoughts
As a matter of fact how about three
One penny for you
One penny for me
And one penny for our minds engaged
Not so sexually
Getting intimately closer
As we approach the climactic altitude
Of nude mental sensational conversation
cuz I’m trying to get to know everything about you
from the neck UP
So these are not your typical sexual poetical prose
I’m trying to close the door of an all too familiar freaky foreplay game
With which most people have chosen to approach you
While they’re trying to get deeply embedded in the fine fibers of your bed sheets
I’m trying to find and define the fibers with which your mind speaks
I want to engage you by putting a two carat solitaire diamond on your mind
and marrying your every thought
I want to lick every inch of every crevice so I can get an oral fix from each orifice
and taste your passionate imagination
I’d rather be naked and exposed holding you as we’re lying
And your crying while confiding and describing the tough times you had in life
And how you don’t know if you can keep a relationship
Long enough to be somebody’s wife
I want to feel the heartbeat of all your inner rhythms as they lead me towards your
warm wet waterfalls of feminine thoughts
And I’ll swim within ‘em from back strokes to breast strokes
I’m penetrating every entrance to your mind
Taking my time to find out everything about you
Did I ever tell you about how you fell asleep in my presence?
And your mere essence kept me up for hours
As I coward with this feel of a sexually unadulterated mental connection
And as you laid by my side I pushed my blinds aside
And took the time in the moonlight of that night
To county seventy-two eyelashes on the upper eyelid of your right eye
Because as you sleep
As you sleep they remain open slightly
And while we probably move too quickly into some sexual stuff
I’ve always cared more about the explicitly illicitness
that came from between your lips meaning your voice
so now I’m standing here ready to trade in all the sexual acts that we perform
for the chance to reform the very foundation and basis of our relationship
and I reiterate my opening statement
And I offer you another penny for your thoughts
Def Jam Poetry Lyrics
For anyone who has ever watched Def Poetry Jam on HBO or who has seen the dvds, this is for you. I have been scouring the internet for some of the poetry lyrics by artists that have appeared on the show, but only a small percentage can be found. However, their videos are all over the net. Because I think it is worthwhile to do, I have taken the time to listen to the videos and type up the lyrics EXACTLY as they are read by the artists. So here they are. One by one I will post them here on this blog. Enjoy!
In NO WAY ARE ANY OF THESE POEMS MY OWN. If you are the poet and wish for me to remove your lyrics, then please inform me of this and I will do so immediately.
In NO WAY ARE ANY OF THESE POEMS MY OWN. If you are the poet and wish for me to remove your lyrics, then please inform me of this and I will do so immediately.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Top 3 blogs about Book Reviews
Hello all. This posting is all about an analyses of the top 3 blogs, according to www.blogshares.com, in the sub-industry of Book Reviews.
1. The Elegant Variation http://marksarvas.blogs.com/elegvar/
According to blogshares, The Elegant Variation is the number one blog on book reviews. The blog appears to appeal to an audience that centers around contemporary American and British literature. There is only one main page which is broken off into three vertical sections. The first centers on the blogger's novel, highly recommended novels, links to publishing companies, other blog sites, and a brief summary on the meaning behind the name of the site.
The second and largest section is focused on prizes,news, and updates. For example, if you wanted to know what award an American or British debut novel has won or if you were interested in possibly winning a copy of that novel, this blog is the site to visit.
The third section is what will most likely catch the eye of a passerby such myself. It consists of a series of book recommendations along with an image of the novel and a brief summary of its contents.
The tone of The Elegant Variation appears to be very fast-paced and straghtforward. There is no dumbing down or explaining here. The blogger's wit is sharp and he does not hold back on emphasizing his views about works of literature, other blogs, or authors. The only images on the blog are book covers and some photos the blogger has taken while on his travels. A stray youtube.com video can also be found here and there. The text is very clean cut, easy to read and in no way removes any importance from the blog. It makes it appear quite legitimate.
This blog is a very unique format in which to present book reviews and announcements. Besides the book reviews, anything else would appear more relevant to authors and writers rather than readers.
2. Bookdwarf http://www.bookdwarf.com/
Bookdwarf appears to be more like a real blog than an informative website. It is very simplistic in its format, yet difficult to maneuver around. In a similar fashion to The Elegant Variation, Bookdwarf is also broken off into three vertical sections. The firsts ection provides links to past years' reviewed novels, literary blogs, and literary journals. The second section provides the meat of the blog by providing news and announcements about the goings on in the literatry world. Most importantly, at the moment, the Pulitzer Prize awards. Bookdwarf also goes a bit off tange by delving into a bit of politics, book store sales, and links to literary contests. The third section provides a rundown summary on the novels the blogger has most recently reviewed.
The images on the site are of book covers and a few random ones used to explain who someone may be from a recent post. The text is in blue print because of the whitewash background. This does not provide a sense of legitimacy even though it appears that this is what the blogger is going for.
There appears to be no set audience to this blog other than fans of science fiction literature. It appears to be quite helpful in book recommendations as there are bountiful links to them. However, if one were searching for up to the minute news on other forms of literature, his or her best bet would be to look somewhere else.
3. Letters From A Hill http://lettersfromahillfarm.blogspot.com/
Are you serious? A bread baking recipe? That is exactly what I found as the most recent post on Letters From A Hill. There are also posts about the blogger's home, what appliances she has updated, and some music recommendations. Uh, truth be told, I could care less about any of these things. Just show me the books!
Besides the dough references, the blogger provides some background knowledge on a few "antique" British children's literature written by such authors as Beatrix Potter and Dorothy Wordsworth.
The blog is split into two sections. The first section is all about the posts. The second is a listing of recipes, book reports, journals, and comments.
After seeing the opening posting on baking bread, I cannot help but to see the blog as a cooking site. The background is in different shaeds of blue, the text is in a lighter shade and appears to be the font type used to printing recipes on the back of chocolate chip bags. There are random images of nature, books, the authors home, and food.
The blogger's appears to be looking for an audience of housewives and grandmothers. As for myself, I see no real meaning or purpose behind this site other than being a provider on killing time with new hobbies.
Out of all three blogs, I would have to agree with the rest of the world that The Elegant Variation is by far the most relevant blog in accordance to book reviews and literary announcements. Bookdawrf is always work a glance and as far as Letters From A Hill is concerned, don't bother.
1. The Elegant Variation http://marksarvas.blogs.com/elegvar/
According to blogshares, The Elegant Variation is the number one blog on book reviews. The blog appears to appeal to an audience that centers around contemporary American and British literature. There is only one main page which is broken off into three vertical sections. The first centers on the blogger's novel, highly recommended novels, links to publishing companies, other blog sites, and a brief summary on the meaning behind the name of the site.
The second and largest section is focused on prizes,news, and updates. For example, if you wanted to know what award an American or British debut novel has won or if you were interested in possibly winning a copy of that novel, this blog is the site to visit.
The third section is what will most likely catch the eye of a passerby such myself. It consists of a series of book recommendations along with an image of the novel and a brief summary of its contents.
The tone of The Elegant Variation appears to be very fast-paced and straghtforward. There is no dumbing down or explaining here. The blogger's wit is sharp and he does not hold back on emphasizing his views about works of literature, other blogs, or authors. The only images on the blog are book covers and some photos the blogger has taken while on his travels. A stray youtube.com video can also be found here and there. The text is very clean cut, easy to read and in no way removes any importance from the blog. It makes it appear quite legitimate.
This blog is a very unique format in which to present book reviews and announcements. Besides the book reviews, anything else would appear more relevant to authors and writers rather than readers.
2. Bookdwarf http://www.bookdwarf.com/
Bookdwarf appears to be more like a real blog than an informative website. It is very simplistic in its format, yet difficult to maneuver around. In a similar fashion to The Elegant Variation, Bookdwarf is also broken off into three vertical sections. The firsts ection provides links to past years' reviewed novels, literary blogs, and literary journals. The second section provides the meat of the blog by providing news and announcements about the goings on in the literatry world. Most importantly, at the moment, the Pulitzer Prize awards. Bookdwarf also goes a bit off tange by delving into a bit of politics, book store sales, and links to literary contests. The third section provides a rundown summary on the novels the blogger has most recently reviewed.
The images on the site are of book covers and a few random ones used to explain who someone may be from a recent post. The text is in blue print because of the whitewash background. This does not provide a sense of legitimacy even though it appears that this is what the blogger is going for.
There appears to be no set audience to this blog other than fans of science fiction literature. It appears to be quite helpful in book recommendations as there are bountiful links to them. However, if one were searching for up to the minute news on other forms of literature, his or her best bet would be to look somewhere else.
3. Letters From A Hill http://lettersfromahillfarm.blogspot.com/
Are you serious? A bread baking recipe? That is exactly what I found as the most recent post on Letters From A Hill. There are also posts about the blogger's home, what appliances she has updated, and some music recommendations. Uh, truth be told, I could care less about any of these things. Just show me the books!
Besides the dough references, the blogger provides some background knowledge on a few "antique" British children's literature written by such authors as Beatrix Potter and Dorothy Wordsworth.
The blog is split into two sections. The first section is all about the posts. The second is a listing of recipes, book reports, journals, and comments.
After seeing the opening posting on baking bread, I cannot help but to see the blog as a cooking site. The background is in different shaeds of blue, the text is in a lighter shade and appears to be the font type used to printing recipes on the back of chocolate chip bags. There are random images of nature, books, the authors home, and food.
The blogger's appears to be looking for an audience of housewives and grandmothers. As for myself, I see no real meaning or purpose behind this site other than being a provider on killing time with new hobbies.
Out of all three blogs, I would have to agree with the rest of the world that The Elegant Variation is by far the most relevant blog in accordance to book reviews and literary announcements. Bookdawrf is always work a glance and as far as Letters From A Hill is concerned, don't bother.
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