Tag Archives: poetic outcry

Slamming my poetry over J. Dilla -(Rhyme Therapy)

Rhymes have been innovated in with poetry for flow purposes:

Lyrics:

“For the last 3 years; every holiday puts me in tears…”

But Im slurvibin’ ; I survived more than your knowledge.

So don’t judge; I won’t budge; Graduated from college but..

Im here to topple all of this.

Only move a muscle yo; To see my people comfortable

I’m comfortable

With what woulnt quite be enough for you.

-Minimalistic-

Kill Switch*

I am the mass creator of my destiny.

Applicate this upon the flash fader.

If Im gon write something; its gon surpass the ages.

I’m here to set you free.

In this digital subliminal “We all world criminals”.

Being watched; check your watch;

The internets 7th letter.

9 O’clock.

Open that third eye and peep the:

[Insert; present moment birds eye.]

Vision like an ecylpse of consciousness. Sub-Ominnous

Heard eyes.

Heard I?

(Zenzory Crozzover)

Spent too many days Not Sober.

Suffer my consequences

Lets get.

All over.

Again…

-Nina

Kernelled Remains — Mind to Unbind

Eyes glued to screens. Fingers fastened to keys. Characters are not novel, just 140 long. Nightly news! Death’s script flung from monotone lips. The hour skit a regurgitation of third world shit. First world filter cleans so we can swallow. Popcorn that is… Crunch! Buttered morsels dissolve. Fingers greased with privilege. Eat, tweet, repeat. Screens smeared […]

via Kernelled Remains — Mind to Unbind

Rhyme Therapy. – Nina

meow

Just writing shit. Passing time. Outlashing rhyme.

Is Concrete freedom? Completely completing me?

I feel like I’m depleting…

Too much time… so here I rhyme.

I got a good girl, good world. I’m in love.

Word therapy; it’s scaring me cause words release and reveal disparity.

The repressed stress that impales my chest… I’ll just…let the rest of my rhymes set sail.

Every day listening to the rain, it washes pain away.

I want to get up, but it looks like imma do it on a later day.

Now: Trynna bail… out….I fell off.. or fell out… I feel like I’m doing nothing when I’m

sitting here alone with my own”self.”…

I’m too used to street tops / we walked the block in reboks / more miles than Enoch /

up n down like seasaws

…then hop trains to the seashore. Drink more. I need more,

Fuck, I bleed for freedom like firey Vietnam napalm.

I’m going awal.

God Damn I seen it all… and it drove me up the walls….

No sentiment to what I representing in this moment.

Alone, Heckle myself. Jeckle?

Fuck it, Hyde… but wise with pretty eyes.