U Gotta Love Yourself

Get real scared
Real fast
picture freddy kruger
a gremlin
and a hairy smelly ass
i find myself with my back to this wall
and thats what i'm starin at
The wall is cold
The way room temperature can be sometimes
With my warm back pressed so snugly against it
I find comfort in this position
because its too damn ugly to be pretentious
and ugly stands for U gotta love yourself
U gotta love yourself
ugly
"let me hold something playa",
"boy its ugly today"
you ever seen someone so sexy you had to look away
but see, i can look ugly right in the face
from the dirty pissy j's
thats all over the place
to the eye sore where i was raised sir
i seen ugly like
okay
pickin which bills ima pay
i seen ugly like i dont got nowhere to stay
buckshot beedebee pam ugly
aunt esther ugly
old bad bottom gorilla faced hussy
ugly
ol frog-eyed fish eating fool
ugly
and i aint have no tv show to make it funny
or money to make it cool
i know it feels good to be pretty
riding tall through the city
And i live in Midtown
with the pretty buildings
and the pretty people
in their pretty little cars
and pretty little make-up
to cover ugly ass scars
because with beauty comes insecurity
we just wanna be where the pretty people are
but its something about knowing shit is not looking good
less stress-bound
thats why you feel liberated when you dress down, dont you
dont you
and yea,
yea, it feels good to be pretty
ridin tall through the city
but pretty falls apart and they dont make enough glue
ugly know its ugly and ugly know what to do
ugly aint scared of no mirror
could i say that about you?
tryin to keep up with appearances
thats running from you
that junkie lady pissin outside
on the ground
downtown
she aint scared of no mirror
cuz she cant hide from the fact that shit is ugly right now
so even though shit is ugly right now
its comforting
in the same way as fuckin a ugly woman is
you know she aint cheatin
and you dont care if she is
what you see is what you get
and it is what it is
U gotta love yourself
sometimes that mirror can make it hard to love yourself
Ugly
from where im standing shit is ugly
with my back against this wall
from this side of the mirror
but ugly aint scared of ugly
and i'll get ugly right wit ya
cuz i aint here to look pretty
im here to paint a picture
that shit is ugly right now
but its cool
cuz i love myself

Ke

It was better than any surprise any child ever got

This key I found to a reinforced lock

On a box

That i had owned and treasured

Then thrown away and forgotten

at the bottom of my closet

I thought I lost it

Under all my old clothes

under all my skeletons

Thing is, a locked box hidden under scary skeletons is easily forgotten

Especially when there's no key to unlock it

So I devalued what was inside it, and convinced myself that I would never find it

I even tryed to convince myself that there was never any box

Never any lock

Cuz the skeletons are scary and the closet is dark

And if it ever did exist, its all they way at the bottom

and its way easier on my mind to stop looking

So while blinded by closed eyes

Frozen cold, and closed minded

I was blinded sided by some shining object

Like sUnshine

It was a key

A key I had found and had been carrying around in my pocket

Now it was shining,

This key

Brightening everything around it,

So bright it was like it was all i could see anymore

And i couldn't imagine how i never noticed before

And I cleaned up my world

under the light it gave off

The sUnshine I saw

motivated me to want more

But I still had no box,

and I still had no lock

And my skeletons are scary

and my closet is dark

and I wouldn't dare approach that hellish closet

with this beautiful key

Can i tarnish the sUnshine with this dark side of me.

I was protecting the key

I had forgotten the box

Devalued the love that lied under the lock

because it lied under my scary skeletons

and I lied to myself so long

But the key found the box on its own

The key unbound the lock

And inside was the best feeling i ever forgot

Better than any surprise any child ever got

Instantly i felt

safe

secure

appreciated

warm

special

admired

adored*

not to mention spoiled rotten

But these are only words

without the feeling inside it

they cant begin to describe it

the long lost content of real love

I thought I'd never find it

But i found it in my girlfriend

Her name is Keanna

I call her Ke.

The Point

Get that bullshit off your mind and try to prepare for something real within the next 5 seconds

Confusion doesnt wear a name tag
and answers dont broadcast locations
theres no app for that
I got an app called Point
but it cant give me direction
whats the point
good question
ima just address it
yall can gps it
I told God im lost,
send an angel to find me
Life is real and hell is hot
and the streets are cold
so you work and you hate work
and then you go home
and you hate home
cus not a single living soul
will ever be who you want them to be
what you want them to be
when you want them to be
and you eat so you can work
and you work so you can eat
but the grind doesnt quench your thirst
you drink water
just to fill your well of tears but you never cry
if youre lucky you get a shoulder to hold your head
and a hand to wipe em dry
but never the whole person thats beside you
and they ask you whats the problem
and they mean it from the heart
but the problem is you got so many problems
you cant tell them apart
and you dont have a solution and thats the problem
and its just cycles
and the rings start interlocking like the olympics
but this life aint a game
and you can run in circles as fast as you can
but you'll never get a medal to hang
over your heart
so the interlocking rings just become a chain
so let me ask you this, what the fuck is the point?
Well
God would die for me, thats the point
My daughter never sounds so happy as when she says daddy
thats the point
and love has its shortcomings
but thats beside the point
I owe it to myself and thats the motherfucking point
And i'm in line behind my breaking point
I got clothes, I got shoes,
Yea, im cool
And these women love a nigga too
but that aint the point
To make life easier for the next man
Thats the point
To sacrifice
because money doesn't suffice
and nothing with a price
is even part of the point
God would die for me
I tell myself thats got to be the point
Cuz honestly, i dont know
I just write poetry
these are just ideas
these are just my tears
these are just my years
these are just my fears
and it may not apply to you, these are just Naijeer
trying to let these words freshen a bitter taste
this aint a test
and i wont get a big red check or a smiley face sticker
so whats the point
they say theres a heaven after all this
is that the point
if i get rich i cant take it with
case and point
everybody has felt hopeless
like whats the point
My mama say this sound pessimistic
Thats the point
I cant sulk
But a young man's hope
Thats gotta be part of the point
A man with no job
met a man with no hands
no fingers to point
and im confused
like you once were
like you are now
and just like you
i keep going
even without knowing the point
Yo this all we get and this is all we got
Confusion does NOT wear a name tag
and answers dont broadcast locations
theres no app for that
I got an app called Point
but it cant give me direction
whats the point
good question
I just addressed it
yall can gps it

Atlanta Spoken Word-Nuff Said at Urban Grind

Oh Na Na

Find more artists like Nuff Said at Myspace Music

Raleigh Rap Scene Nuff Said "Simple Things"

The Poem I Never Wrote

You wanna talk?

Okay, lets talk

I wanna tell you about something

You probably gon think i'm buggin

But i'm not

Theres a back door

to every front-store

Where we browse down the aisles

and let these crooks sell us clouds

and keep the cotton candy for themselves

Hell nall

You probably gon think i'm buggin when I tell you this

But i'm not

George Walker Bush

had a hand in the push

when them towers dropped

Sadaam was his ram in the bush

Cuz the Bin-Laden family was his patnah' dem

And I know if he was payin a debt

Blackmailed by a threat

or lost a bet

But that fucker at least let them towers fall

You can tell when somebody lyin

Still aint caught Bin-Laden huh?

Some back door oil deal from in the day: all them people dyin huh?

I know yall probably think i'm buggin

but turn on the news

peep how they keep fear on front street

I've flown at least 40

seperate times

never once in that 40

was the terrorism alert lower than code orange

but the part thats so crazy to me

they actually color coded how afraid we should be

afraid of who

remains to be seen

or should i say scene with a c

that what it looks like to me

a crime scene

a crime

and i'm

a witness with no court to testify in

you probably think i'm just buggin

But i'm not.
Dont even get me started on the cops

I spit a beautiful loogie

into my hand

and fling it so smoothly

Onto the door handle of their squad cars

Everytime i get the chance

I dont trust them

They disgust me

Power is so lovely

But they abuse her to the point, she gets ugly

and I think their all part of a plot

You probably think i'm buggin

But i'm not tho, see

Nobody may be pulling the strings themselves

But some strings are being pulled

And they are all godfathers

Gangsters in suits

with hired hitters, licensed to shoot

Police and Politicians

If f i could only tell you what I really know

But i cant they'll kill me the tho

So I only wrote a little

And i always write in code

I forgot how to make the paper implode

so keep it close

between me and you

this is the poem I never wrote

Always So Pretty

Every time i see her
Shes more beautiful than I remember
The most charming memories
that float by me like butterflies
Still more pretty every time

I miss her more every time
I smile bigger when I kiss her every time
She looks just like me
I'm not used to that
Seems like she looks more like me everytime
But still more pretty every time
God is good

Her voice is so pretty
So light, so soft
Doesn't like to talk, but she chooses words
Soft spoken, well spoken
Her father is so proud it confuses her
"Why is he smiling so hard, all i said was 'Juice.'"

He never smiles quite as hard
Unless he's smiling at her
Bless his heart
That smile
That smile
Never fully there unless she's around

He grinned at every word she pronounced
She hugged him like she would regret letting go
And I know
I know she did
Everytime
She tells him she loves him when she hugs him
Until next time i guess
Looking more and more pretty everytime
And I always tell her she's pretty

Memories
A million reasons why we must part
But there is no excuse
The truth is all I have
I try to put my best in you

My baby
My baby
My baby

I'll see you soon sunshine
and you get more pretty everytime
But we must part ways everytime
But you tell me you love me every time

Thats another part of me in you
Love
and love hard,
and love in spite of
I'm proud of you for that
I love you more for that
I miss you more for that

I smile bigger when I kiss you
Because you kiss me back
And still tell me you love me everytime
And you're always so pretty

Pretty

Blue suede hangs low
Over crushed velvet forests
On a Carolina day like today

China smiles spread smoothly on the lovely woman's face
Spicy buds smooth the scene out lovely
Right away

Close looks reveal wonderful secrets hiding
Like neat brown lips reveal a sweet vagina
These are the days

When the clouds only shade the sun
And leave a silhouette glowing behind them
Feel it, see it, and enjoy young world

If a lawnmower shreds your rosemary bush
Breathe deep

My eyes see past the epidermis
on every skin this planet offers
The world is a sight to see

People live on highways marked with
rectangle signs in black and white
endless lines of yellow, green, brown and white are their horizon

I see horses behind plain wooden fences
Wow
Some people have horses
Some people never see a horse, or ever think they'll ride one

People dont come in spades or diamonds
We only do what suits us

Motorcycle gangs zoom past
hoopdies that blast lil wayne
leather blows through the wind and bandanas hang
Neither pipe shoots flames
they both blow exhaust
that floats and coughs
Under streetlights
Like midnight trains
Loyal women on both sides mirror the same

The world is a sight to see
Through slick shades and sick glasses
Pears and hourglasses
Six packs and beer bellies full of molyasses
Lips, cheeks, eyes, eye lashes

Truly,
anything appreciated fully is attractive
Even bad shit
The key is to isolate the bad and look past it
And when you unlock that trick

Everything is pretty as hell

FURY!

Stupidity is risk with no reward
Lies and smiles frolic on one accord
Put your hands to something idle cuz the devil is bored
Put fellowship and compassion on your list of chores
Kick over buckets of blood and never mop the floor
Pick up a bucket
Drop two tears in it
And call it war

I got this dream of a beautiful world from the dollar store
It cant be worth much more
It festers like an open sore
Stinks like rotten meat

Stony roads become gravel driveways under colored feet
Turn your head sideways and tell me what you see
Twisted or not
Its all the same to me

Out the window goes a wak cd
And the dreams of a young man
Just like me
Smack
On the hard concrete
Dreams are too abstract when you're too busy to sleep
Seems like God is not even there when you're too busy to care
Knees get weak when you're too busy for prayer
Getting fat
Too hungry to share

A baby told his mother he doesn't wanna smile
If i knew then what I know now
I would still say the same thing
The world needs its pamper changed
We just shit on each other and let it dry
Dark stains on the fabric we're all held together by
The stench will make you do more than cry
Makes me wanna holler
Young Nathan McCalls screaming
I GOT LOTSA GUALA
While our mothers live in squalor
The Wall Street Journal told me life is trading lower than the US dollar

Monkeys wear big T-shirts huh?
Ok, and dogs wear collars
I found a thief when I scratched that liar
I looked past that fire in his eyes
I saw his horns I saw his teeth
Through his thick, sick, slick smile
The front of his t-shirt read talk is cheap
The back said cut your wrist down the highway, not across the street
and these devils are the only ppl I meet

I found a copied sheet
Of the Good Doctor's speech
It stank like rotten meat
Somebody balled it up and threw it away

A sophomore told me live for the day
They dont let bums in the buffet
They cant pay
And now that I've read the rules
I dont wanna play
Cut your wrist up the highway, not across the street

All I see is a future bleak enough to make the crystal break
But all they see is a fortune
They tell me "fix your face,
this is great,
love is in the air
let 'em asphixiate!"
Cover your nose
I got some shit to say

They can smell me all the way in South Africa, Australia, the Phillipines,
Same shit,
different day,
just heard the toilet flush a different way
Whole world in disarray but its okay
Pick up a bucket, drop two tears in it, and call it war

Write fellowship and compassion on your list of chores
Kick over buckets of blood and never mop the floor
The world is the devils playground
Steal, kill and destroy
And even he is getting bored
And the hood aint even the same no more

And that shit makes me angry

J's

Fresh pair of Air Jordans
feeling like I'm walking on a cloud
Proud signature strut
as I swag so loud...(they know I'm a balla)

Either I'm getting taller
or you're getting smaller
I cant tell
Because either way, I'm never looking down

Blow by you with my tongue sticking out
AAAAAAAAH
Thats just my style
and I'm gone with the wind like Chicago

They ALL know I ball
number 1 like 2345
Pass it
the metal shine when you peel off the plastic

Classic
Like the red and black 9s
Sometimes I dream
That he is me

I dream I move
I dream I grove
Like the flyest player ever
Its gotta be the shoes

Intoxicating

I never drank a single thing
Til I was 18
Even then it was smooth drinks
blended by my boo
spilling on tennis shoes
after summer days
under shades that made me feel so cool
before long steady hugs in sweaty clubs
preceding more than ready rendezvous
At twenty it was booze
with bad news rag-tag crews
with matching custom hats and tattoos
White Owls had us howling
as moonlight hit hoopdies
full of prowling young wolves wilding
but making moves
drop top Audi's and Yukons on shoes
Made us kings
Crowned by chrome
blinging after a daily clean
of the brake dust from the day preceding off my twenty twos
At Twenty Two
Its warm white wine
With my night time flings
half full glasses on nightstands
nothing to prove
Stages of all shades
and swagger in spades
different damsels different days
different views
A stony gaze
at skies in stony grays
fused with the lifting
of 40 ounce brews on lonely days
as tattoos fade in with the skin
homeys are few
Sweet brown liquor
loosens the sullen mood
or shots of white brighten the gloom
on topless nights
in gentleman's clubs
A young man rumbles
throws money and stumbles
grinning at the buzz
Drunk on love, life, life and love

The Perfect Girl

I met the perfect girl today
she screamed my name in the silent bookstore
Her self and mine
Spoke for a young sweet time
her hat said that she was confident
A modest pride
a wide brim around a round brown face
Like a sunflower
It topped off her aura
That of a walking sunshower
hot but cool
Like a florida beach in January
beautiful above all
Very
I sat back with a natural smile
and watched her browse
her dress said aloud
that she was free
like the wind when it blew the draping denim
a breath of fresh air
from colorless, odorless, toxic, tasteless women
like nectar in the place of venom
So i stood up and approached her for a closer look
Juggling guns, germs, and steel and two poetry books
I never got to see what she was reading
her face said hi without speaking
Her eyes beaconed out to mine
then whispered that they held the sort of truth i need to find
Her brow was full and thick but trim
but not trimmed shallow or thin
her lips, wet and suple
but traced a smile instead of spelling trouble
they spread to show perfect pearly whites
in rows
like windows
for me to see her inner beauty from the outside
all in a smile
she reminded me of Lauryn Hill
their names are even similar
The connection felt like it could've been sort of real
I actually stumbled over some words
but she smiled at my persistence
my heart was racin
she said she liked my name
right before she told me she was taken...
shakin my head
not a shock...

but a shame.

Guns and Roses

I wrote this on the city bus in Raleigh, North Carolina

Age is not added, it is made
It comes slowly but once you have it, it stays
With time's passage
I smoothly removed the rose colored glasses
With one cool pull
But now, when I look out at the world
I just see red
Like a bull
I see empty evil and beauty full
A gun rests beneath a flower
Equally beautiful
Flowers start as buds and blossom up
from the monotonous green
The American dream
Complete
Imposing rosy abstract beauty
to the bloody concrete streets
Guns paint the city red
not alone tho,
not alone
Guns are not killers
They merely represent power
Which can be abused or misused
Simply a tool,
The both of them, beauty and power
I am a gun
I am a flower

War on the Moon

On July 25th, 2010 I wrote as a status, GIVE ME SOMETHING TO WRITE PLEASE!

my brother responded:
D.J. Rogers: When I'm struggling to come up with an idea I sometimes take an image or a metaphor and build around it instead of trying to write about a certain idea or concept. Since I'm looking outside right now, the two words that come to mind are "moon" and "thunderstorm" lol

and another person responded:
Latoya Sanders: Add a sci-fi twist to sumn ordinary.

took over a month, but I present to you...

Nai-jeer Watson's
War on the Moon
From the Melee of a Manic Mind
The moon and the war that takes place there symbolize the manic state of a manic-depressive pysche. Earth represents the state of normalcy that not many who suffer from this disorder ever get to enjoy. Read behind the lines and enjoy!



Get real scared, real fast
You're lookin' at a big bad goon from the moon
Yea
You listenin' to a tale of two worlds
that lies behind words
only seen by those who know to observe.
When it rains on earth,
when it floods whole cities,
holds up arks,
creates rivers on which lovers and friends drift apart
What that is...
is our tears
from fighting through the years.
But the sun shines on my tears of joy,
in the mist of the war.
Gunpowder sunshowers
waft on the flowers
and wait on the power.
You see lightning in the air,
thats how fast we're moving;
You hear thunder,
that mean i started losing.
I'm from the moon, district 9
we just call it the 9.
We got you up to a nine
900 miligrams of the stuff they put in batteries;
thats how we do it on the moon.
But doin that everyday,
over time:
that'll take a toll on a moon man's mind,
make me drift through space
back down there to your kind.
Not to mention it gives me nightmares.
They can put it in a moon man's blood
but it cant change a moon man's heart.
I fell in love with the war.
Not too long ago
I had only seen earth,
never been before.
All there's been is me,
some prayer,
some sin,
and this war.
They dope me up because they say I shouldn't be a soldier no more.
They say I lost my mind...
because I was in the war
waist deep
Shooting fire forty feet
no graivity; nothing i couldn't reach
burning everything i could see
Thats normal to me
They say if i go up again and fight without help in the war
I'll die for sure
and I dont know
Whether to come or go
All I know is i'm getting sick from drifting from place to place
The moon is a part of me
The moon is like another part of my mind
Polar opposite from the earth,
but I cant tell which is better.
Understandingly, doesn't matter what kind of home a child comes from
A child is still gon' yearn for home
Talent out of this world
Gon' have life cheesy easy, on a spoon
But they didn't know I was getting the milk for that craft from the moon
Now,
behold,
The cow
BOW!
I dont go back to the war to win
There aint no winner its just continuous
But its so splendid
So dangerous
Infinitely
More suited for me
Space suit for me
I dont take their dope
I just keep fighting this war on the moon...

Every Prayer is Poetry

I was born
In a city
Right by the bay
and my heart's pure
Just like water
Because thats how I was raised
But I was torn
Between two worlds
And I'll admit I made mistakes
but the sun dont stop because of one rain drop
and trouble dont last always
God i'm dirty as the red clay I walk uponbut You can pick me up, mold me, shape me
if poetry was pottery
try me by fire
and make me your chosen vessel
finer than china
porcelain, whiter than snow
Cause I been runnin', I been gunnin', I been sinnin', I been grinnin
I been boomin, I been bunkin', I been trappin like a fool
Like a fool
God give me something true
Truer than that box of christianity i feel pressured to fit into
Cause I been hoopin', I been hollin', I been shoutin', I been doubtin'
I been prayin', I been swayin', I been actin like its cool
But prayer changes things,
Like keys open doors
Every prayer is poetry,
God works in metaphors
He was that conscience that told you you were wrong
That warm feeling when you heard that song that said hold on
Because He's keeping us
He is the... something
That told you to go home
common sense and life lessons, that's how God speaks to us
He is the... voice you cant hear
the hand you cant see unless
you know what you're looking for
you'll see it opening doors
Every prayer is poetry
God works in metaphors
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
Every prayer is poetry
Deliver us from evil
for thine is the kingdom
Every prayer is poetry
Hail Mary, full of grace
pregnant with grace
Every prayer is poetry
Every prayer is poetry
Forgive me for my sins
tho I will sin again
God, show me the way
and if you cant show me the way..then God, forgive me for being lost
I'm a man
sometimes my pride stops me from stopping and asking for directions
But as the sun lights the way
Your Son is the Light and the Way
And i'll get where I wanna be if I delight in your way
But I dont
I run right the other way
Thats how my life was led astray
The deviil whooped me but You let me live to fight another day
and with my life in disarray
I fall down on all fours
Every prayer is poetry
God works in metaphors
I let the devil creep in with stress
I seen him retreat
regroup
and redress
I let him re-enter after I repented
and I regressed
but after all those bad deeds I just confessed
This is how I want to be blessed
a moron without the oxy
My prayer is alliteration
I plead to my provider
please
Help me pursue perfection and practice patience
Cause Satan's trying to murder me
That aint hyperbole
I'm afraid to drink from Your cup
Unworthily
If I could just touch the hem of your robe
I could be pure
Every prayer is poetry
God works in metaphors
God take care of my baby
When I am not able
He said I never seen the righteous forsaken
Every prayer I pray it seems the answer is do right
every prayer I pray it seems I'm dying for new life
I prayed father keep me from falling
with my face on floors
unto him who is able to keep you from falling
and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy
may it rest, and abide with me
now, henceforth, and forevermore
Every prayer is poetry
God works in metaphors

A Prisoner's Justice

Then dangle it over my head,
Why dont you?
That'll teach an infidel
like me
who's pulling the strings
make me your puppet
Justice is nothing more
than poor judgment that belongs to yesterday
disrupting all subsequent
Right?
then what is justice
For me it is a perfect girl with a husband
who isn't me
always what we cant have
always all we want
If justice were but fairness
If justice were but common sense
a tree stump where new growth begins
a prisoner's justice stalks him
some pages write themselves
some we get to write ourselves
some have already been written
read em and weep said the judge
echoing and echo and echoin the law
A convict looked up at an american sky
Not a spec of hope he saw

Blood - Sarah Jones

Better Half

There's gotta be somebody who can match softness for my roughness
Tenderness for my toughness
Level-headedness for my pride
Sweetness for the bitterness I hold inside
Behind every good man is a good woman
Good advice, good lovin, good food, good God
There's gotta be somebody who cried
and had a shoulder
A bosom to hold em closer
A hug to hold em over
A gentle hand to wipe the tears from their eyes
There's gotta be somebody who had aunts like mine
There's gotta be somebody with a girl like mine.
When a man finds a wife,
A good thing, he finds
There's gotta be somebody in love
There's gotta be somebody rising above, against all odds
Who couldn't have done it without their mom
Cause when the world was filling my head with lies
She helped me recognize and opened my eyes
and she always did what she had to do to provide
and when breast cancer tried to deprive...
UH-UH
My phenomenal woman said she still rise
Cant deny a woman's worth
They decorate this man's world
They hold together our lives
They are the staples, so today, I celebrate with you
I congratulate you
You empower me
I appreciate you
Our better half

Audition piece for Women's Empowerment and Networking Conference, 2010. Didn't make it... Try again next year...

Opus Of a Martyr

No cause can be called lost
What have but one fool left to fight
No folly can be found in hope
No wrong can be done for the sake of right
To not care
Is a luxury I do not share
with the masses
Not fair
Never passes my mind
To be a coward is to live
but can they live with themselves?
Myself; I live for last
So
the debt that each man must repay...
To whom do it I owe?
I only pray
To die on a day worth livin fo'
It would seem noone knows they're a martyr
But we all know we may not get there with you
Martin knew
Malcom knew
Jesus knew
we are the great ill-fated
Most loved, most hated
we dont debate it
We dont await it, thats senseless
anywhere could be my Memphis
no home but my believer's hearts
no four walls to grow old in
no old to grow, forever young
a fountain of youth we all drink from
our immortal times, forever frozen
a select path we've chosen
My blood will not be treasured as a scholar's ink
but a selfless heart is golden
A selfless heart, I beacon out until I am departed
To die at once, and never die
The opus of a martyr

Home Sweet

Something about the place we were at when we met
The good place i was in when we met
A nice face don't mean much
But her grin seemed to welcome me in
Her words, comfortable, familiar
Like an old friend
But she got a glow,
A radiance that surrounds her
and seems to warm the area around her
The one you dont say you met, you say you found her
See I dont go for the chick
Thats always got on heels
Busy body, cant stay still
Like she on wheels
Dont get me wrong
Baby gurl know how to put on
But her demeanor and style remind you she grown
and her aura just remind you of home
You know, those eyes you can trust
Like windows to her soul
Just feel right, put you right in that mode
Relaxed, laid back
I can just be myself
Staying up late to cupcake
Frontin
for nothin
Scared to say what I wanna say cus, how she gon respond to that?
If i say all jokes aside, frontin aside from that
To be with you is to have my cake and eat it too and you're the icing on top of that...
Tell her she sexy but I'd rather be beside her than behind her
But I got your back
or simply said, you feel like home sweet home.
When I see her picture I hear saxophones
Her ringtone is a love song
My high heel short skirt tshirt Taylor Swift
tailor made... baby gurl, we a perfect fit
And she dont need you to buy her a whole lot
Just keep things real dont hold out
Just tell her how you feel instead of roll out
and we can save all the drama for the soap ops
I tell her i'ma need a lady when I go out
Then turn into a freak when the do' lock
cause these college girls act like robots
and these hoodrats look like they smoke rocks
lol
But I just want someone to share a nice. Quiet. Evening with, you know?
No elaborate tv date shit
Baby gurl know how to appreciate shit
simple things turn her on
like the smell of my cologne
just like how I come on
Just right and not too strong
and once its on
It just feels so right
To the left, that beyonce song
Just sounds so mother. fuckin. Wrong.
I aint gone, uh-uh, nowhere, come on
girl aint no place like home
Home is where the heart is.

Stream of Consciousness #9

WOW, only 9. I have been slipping. Well, I tried to type a poem into here called War on the Moon not too long ago, but I couldn't think of NOTHING for that so I just gave it up. (i was trying to go off two random facebook suggestions about something to write) Anyway, I guess I have been soul searching for the past month. Some stuff that I didn't even want to explore openly so I chose not to write it up here. But I'm back on top of things now. About to start a new job. Just wrote two new poems. I guess I'll add those up here today. One them I actually just wrote today and I haven't even edited it yet so i guess I'll do that when I type it into the blog.
So, well, I just feel like writing this. I think too much. SERIOUSLY. I look into things too deeply pretty much 200 percent of the time. But... I feel like thats my strongest asset too. So I'm not sure how to correct it. Its more than just a gift and a curse. See, me, being all poetic, I look at my life as like the longest poem ever written. My Odyssey, my Iliad. I'm the epic hero in the poem, obviously. So this thinking too much thing, falling into form, is my super-human strength and my tragic flaw. (pride might be one of those flaw things too, lol) At any rate, I think it is what allows me to write as well as I do, but I think it hinders me from just making something happen sometimes. I'm so critical of my every move. I have so many affirmations and pep talks for myself, but I tend to allow myself to give up because I overthink things and decide they aren't the best move...
Same thing with girls. WOW. I dont even wanna get started on that. I have no girlfriend right now, but I want one. I'm the type of guy to have one. And only one. But now I gotta have like 5 just to fulfill the role of one because I cant find the right one. I cant find that one that feels like home.
Wow, shameless cheesy intro
But its true.
Check out this next poem, it'll be above this one. The one called "Home Sweet"

The Myseducation of Naijeer Quadean

On a good day
I smell like Newport smoke under Giorgio Armani: Code
I am a soaring, screaming eagle
That's pigeon toed
Poetry
Ten toes down
The sole of my feet got glued to the sticky street
But my soul is on the road
The word "complete" has a meaning few of us know
So I enrolled in real life as my college
Major-undecided
I graduated from hard knocks high
But I
Didn't get a diploma
Just this big stick diplomacy, oversized cohonas, a taste for Coronas and twisted aroma therapy
The struggle inspired me to be a higher me
Hopefully before I die I'll put out more than I receive
Tell me who I gotta be
To get some reciprocity
All I know how to be is be whats inside of me
Brought up to be, taught to be, thought to be a prodigy
But raised to be, led to be, trained to be a rider
And all I know how to do
Is do what I gotta do
Cant Take My Eyes Off success
But its seems just...
Too good to be true
and That Thing in my chest
bleeds for the Lost Ones in Every Ghetto, Every City
I wanna talk to him
Tell Him he's a Superstar
That we, as a people, got that Ex-Factor
Tell him Everything Is Everything
But he feels like Nothing Even Matters
And that's me too, in a nutshell
Get your nutcracker, see whats inside
Rather than breaking my balls about past actions
I wonder if Footaction will let me trade in these kicks for kisses
I wanna feel the soft caress of happiness
This endless summer got me losing my mind
Signed up for band when I was 9
School boy, at the parade I smiled at my mom
I've cried so many tears since that time
But I find
I'm
too blessed
To be stressed
So I just
Let the saxophone wine
The other kids at school had minds that wasn't in tune with mine
I couldn't see that
I decided I rather be measured on a G scale than b flat
I dropped the notes, moved on to halfs, quarters, and eighths
I was taught it was wrong
I was taught to have faith
I just have to learn how to walk in it
Walk by it
Because at times I just walk by it
I'm just a young boy
Strumming her pain with my finger, singing her life with my words
We're on the same search
She tienes hombre for my truth
I have a thirst for hers
So I sat in this place where I sat when we talked first
And wrote down this verse
We went to the same school, metaphorically
But we had different teachers,
She didn't speak
My pigeon-toed feet leaned my sneakers
But now we walk the same walk and she sees it
See, I was blessed with the strength of a single mother
But I looked up to a player
Grew up around hustlers
Was trained by a fighter
So will I end up as such
Only time will tell
Time talk too much
Gym class coach say you only fail when you give up
Whose teaching do I trust?
If my mom say seek peace
but my brothers say fight
Pressure, paradoxes, and poetry
Thats life
But the album ends with it'll be alright
Who got a light?

1987 Lauryn Hill - Who's Lovin' You (Amateur Night at the Apollo)

Waterfall

If she aint grinnin from ear to ear
Then she grinnin from here to here
So I figure she think i'm handsome or something
And we still both young, still tryin to find our feet
Still with wills, with an I
of steel, with an E
but still, with a I,
We, damn, both just
Wanna do the damn thing
but cant seem for a damn thing
to figure out this damn thing
happiness keeps getting pushed back for some damn thing
and our hearts get backed up like a dam
she just lookin for something concrete
but you dont want me baby
i'm just another waterfall
dont chase me
she say she
wish i could see what she see
she see this beauty in my nature...
she see me, all the time, being me
it look good, sound good
refreshing...
like runnin water
and the smile she wears when i'm arouond
paints a perfect picture
of her herbal essence showerin in this feeling i give her
strumming her pain with my finger
singin her life with the words i deliver
but i'm just another nigga shorty
fluid like water
i'll slip right through your hands baby
i'm just another waterfall, dont chase me
i may be
a breath of fresh air
i may be
a sight of beauty to your eye
but sturdy ground i'm not
you dont wanna live there
probably seem like i'm the shit but shit, i aint really shit
just different from the shit you been around
but dig this
a waterfall aint nothin but a messed up
dressed up cliff
fall for me
but dont slip
dont loose you're ground in the passion
rockin your boat like we whitewater raftin on rapids
twistin, turnin, laughin
clenchin, squeezin,
screamin: harder, faster
but i seen that sea of joy
become nothin more than gallons
upon gallons of tears
but if two of those fall in a bucket
you know my cry
fuck it
I'm so used to
familiar with
weary of this edgy lovin
we just tell each other dont look down
and jumpin off seems so fun
and if we do the un-thinkable
would that make us look crazy
baby
i'm just another waterfall
a good ass dream, thats all
dont chase me...

I Don't Do Well with Father's Days

I don't do well with Father's days
I never knew my own
I never really saw one up and close til I was halfway grown
i never saw mine up and close til I was fully grown
but who i feel the most for is them
its hard being a father
when youre not with the mother
and things might not be what they should
and the generation of my father
was the same age as me now when they had their daughters
and sons
my father has 1 daughter, maybe 2
and like 9 sons
I got one daughter
and sometimes i feel like i'm failing her
just her
i dont do well with father's days
and its rare anymore that i cry
its like the wells are running dry
today i think the last drops fell from my eye
my mother cooked me a breakfast for father's day and bout me a card
i swear never celebrated father's day before
never before
and as a father i feel like i could do more
buts its hard sometimes when you're poor
i hold her
and i play with her
and show her i love her
but how the situation is with her mother...
i start to understand
how my father could have became that man
i cant even blame that man
in my life i've sang the same relatable refrain
"pop, how could i blame you cause you couldn't maintain?"
look like we doing the same thang
I dont do well with fathers days
cuz i hate to see noone who wants to celebrate
so few of my people have fathers to buy a tie for
noone taught them to tie a tie before
a deacon
a coach
those are the closest things to fathers we kno
"its complicated" best describes that relationship
with most
if you got a father, hold him close
and if you can hug another you know
cuz its hard
i dont do well with fathers days at all
i should've gotten my mother a card...

How Do I Tell Her?

Okay so, how i tell her this shit?
its like
every single thing about her is something i like
but like
i aint supposed to like her this fast
not like this
like u know its gettin deep when you keep on saying like
so like
what i'm sayin is...
like, how i tell her this shit?
i cant say i hear saxophones when i see your picture
she gonna say i'm trippin
and i aint even a sucker for love
she just different
but she all the same in a few lil ways
and the game is still the game and
everybody plays
but when the truth sound like game
and sweet turns syrupy
what can a player do but lay back?
you feel me?
how i tell her this shit?
should i just not say shit?
not say shit bout the calls she missed
that i didnt get back
she was busy, she couldn't get back
like, i aint even supposed to notice that
it aint her fault i like her like way too much
to the point i wanna fall back
cus if i was standing on a box
could i trust her
and fall back?
Cuz i would make that catch
but the player in me says
very nice jerry rice
but think twice
pride wont let me like her more
so even tho she likes me 2
it kills me to care this much
the heart is like a gun
it can be your best friend
or your downfall
and this gun sleeps with me
but this gun doesn't sleep
so i try to keep the safety on it at least
cuz if it slips...
they call it murder out in the street
but who dies her or me?
how do i even begin to tell her shit?
how do u start some shit like this off?
she's my friend but she's so much more
i would love for her to be so much more
way to go, Fat Joe, the player in me says
you dont even kno her Mr. Said
pride tells me don't call her no more
but the heart is like a gun
i pull it out
point it at that prideful player
and tell him to fall back,
bitch!
or should i not?
i shouldn't even tell her this shit
too much energy
too much work
too many disclaimers
theprecedingsoliloquoydoesnotneccesarilyrepresenttheviewsandopionsheldbythestaffandmanagementof
Nuff Said the young live player, incorporated
its just too much
too much effort to say it
to try to well-state it
cuz she'll probably take it the wrong way instead
but it feels like something needs to be said
so how i tell her this shit
i should type it up,
print it out and mail her this shit
or publish it in a book and sell her this shit
because being on stage in front of thousands of people is one thing
but being face to face with that person that makes you bite your lip...
"she's got whatever it is
it blows me away
she's everything i wanna say to a woman but i couldn't find the words to say"
but when she around i play it off slick
i'll never tell her this shit



-Italicized quotation at the end comes from "Whatever It Is"- country
song by: Zac Brown Band

This Bleeding Heart of Mine

I must have died 100 times
With this bleeding heart of mine
I write between the lines
The box never crosses my mind
I've split the atom 100 times
I think in sync with the bottom line
But beloved, let me tell you, this heart...
It bleeds
And it bleeds
For everything
It bleeds for single mothers
lacking choices
facing faceless choices
how are they supposed to know what to do?
I feel good when I see LeBron
Product of a single mom
Making her proud
Cuz i'm tired of bringing greif to mine
It bleeds for dope-boys
laced up their boots at a young age
and got tied up in the street
it bleeds for niggers,
not too long ago tied up in the street
tied up to a tree
that matters to me
that could have been me
this bleeding heart of mine
bleeds for teachers
growing up students year after year
that will one day go through
all of the above
they have to learn not to fall in love
that has to be tough
this bleeding heart of mine bleeds for
Israel
Imagine suicide bombers
in the neighborhood where your kids play
at the market where you'll shop today
Imagine the imapct of the death
the breath never shared with those who are left
imagine if your big brother was Hamas
this bleeding heart of mine even bleeds for the junkies
the js
the crackheads
the bums
vagrants, transients
so many words with a sour fragrance
all to describe one thing
another human being
would you smoke a cigarette from behind a junkie's ear?
what if you were a junkie?
the bleeding heart of mine bleeds for smokers
taking that embarassing walk outside
with pride
on the outside
just to enjoy what they enjoy
it bleeds for babies
i cant imagine not being able to talk
not being able to understand what people are sayin
what language would i think in?
my heart bleeds to Freeway's "Alright"
Darius Rucker "Alright"
Zac Brown Band "Chicken Fried"
Lauryn Hill "To Zion"
i told u, this bleeding heart of mine bleeds for everything
it bleeds for everybody
everybody but the police
and i'm out

Lost in the Woods

Clouds of smoke...
A smell we all know
All too well
We inhale, and cough till we choke
Then the top of each Newport brings hope
But
each butt tells me i'm the butt of the joke
I cant esacpe this way
Being stuck in the hood is like being lost in the woods
I tried escaping every way I could
The bloody snare locks just above my own jagged teeth marks
Noone was around to hear that tree fall down
So how
In the world can they hear me scream now?
There are many others just like me
That look just like me
This army of thirsty horses
They tell us we were led to water years ago
So...
We had a different thirst at the time
Now i cant seem to find
That same pond
That was in front my face the whole time
Just this bitter river someone told me to cry
Being stuck in the hood is like being lost in the woods
"How do you get from here to the rest of the world?"
Asked a young lost soul
Wondering and wandering between each roll
2 or 3 words between licks
2 or 3 flicks of a bic
and its lit
And sadly this is pretty much it
The closest thing to freedom we have
We can pretend we're so fast
that we can run and get away from the past
And The green shade from the clouds of smoke overcast
Tints our sight with envy of those who have
Lost in these trees
We hope somebody will throw us a limb to grab
We gotta reach for something better
We cant stay this way forever
But being stuck in the hood is like being lost in the woods
Success seems like a fable... but, whatever,
Birds of a feather they tag us as because we flock together
We dont cry wolf, we only leap after we look
We move slow but steady, but we cant get it right
Cuz we do bad like we never learned that like will draw like
or like we never read the Wolf and the Crane
but the moral hasn't changed
"In serving the wicked, expect no reward, and be thankful if you escape injury for your pains."
thats too long maine
pass me the flame
and i'm high again
we fly like paper get high like planes
i took that paper and wrote whats pokin at my brain
and I fold it into a paper planes
and throw it, just hopin it lands in the right hands
too much to blame on the white man
or life being
a bitch because its death we courtin
as we shorten
our own life spans
I came from the land of high stakes
chinese wings, cheesesteaks and bikes with no brakes
so how do we break this cycle
Being stuck in the hood is like being lost in the woods
So we just roll up the woods
and go as high as these trees will take us
and wait to tumble off
in my mind a hundred thoughts doing summersaults
and either i'm gettin hard or the ground is becomin soft
but either way, falling,
rather failing,
is nothing to get used to
Try try again
and try try again
Our cries drowned out by a sarcastic violin
while the world dances to our song
to the freak shows to see us they throng
hood niggaz,
jungle people
We wasn't raised by wolves, we just been lost so long
trapped in a snare we didn't even see there
Being stuck in the hood is like being lost in the woods
An SOS from the misunderstood...

Stream of Consciousness #8

So its been like 2 weeks...
Sorry. I been goin thru it. Be like that sometimes tho. Dont kno who is reading, or if anyone is, but i pass out flyers with this blog on it all day so maybe one of you who have taken the time to support a young brother trying to make it happen will take the time to get to know me as well. To take the time to get to kno another human being is rewarding. Let me catch my avid readers up. Hmmmm. Went to Atlanta and a million things went wrong. But i got to go to Throwbacks and thats like the new Peacock (the Royal Peacock in Atlanta is the greatest thing to ever call itself an open mic) so that was great. I love the energy there and the time they take out to actually teach and develop the artists that frequent that stage. It was always love there. There are a few real niggaz who have been steadily going there for years. Anyway, aside from Atlanta, I got to spend some time with my daughter. Me and my baby's mother have been having problems out the ying-yang. Tommorrow is my first father's day being free. I dont kno how to feel. Other than that, hmmmm. Still waiting to put this book out, but i'm trying to learn the game. I'm really right there tho so i'ma just go ahead and make it happen. I gotta meet with my editor Thursday. Me and Sunshine were kicking it the long way but she haven't really been calling me since she been up Newark and I aint mad but I'm not getting what I need out of that situation so i'm looking elsewhere at this point. On the low, its crazy, but, i think i love that girl. Because i'm not infatuated and certainly not in love with her but there is a serious soft spot in my heart for her, like I love her soul. I would never tell her that but I think i'm gonna write something later tonight about it. Straight into this blog!

But before that, i'm going to copy and paste something I wrote yesterday. Its called "Lost in the Woods." Its a must read for all my people that came from the ghetto like I did. I love yall. Enjoy.

Heart of A Tiger

Cousin Terry
First thing I remember about that day
Walking back from the projects, ready to play
I guess it was a hot summer day
I'm not sure what time of year
or even certain of what year
I never choose to ask
Never try to work out the math
but we was outside all day so it must've been summer
Bathroom
Number 2
Wash and rinse
Hands dryed on my shirt
Next, i see images of the same
livin room where the christmas tree used to hang like it felt right at home
Where did Terry go?
...the front do'
Grandma always said play starts and stops at the front do'
but what lied on the other side of that front do'
I wish i couldn't see no mo'
What is he doing?
What is he hittin?
He not playin
I hear my aunt let out this sound
A yell,
a wail,
a whale of a wail
I saw my Aunt swing a broom with all the power she could muster
Him,
Her brother...
Grabbing it, Breaking it, throwing it
Right back to hurting her
Oh my God he's hurting her
Grandma...
Come!
Run!
911
Run back, front yard
Her own son
Him
Sittin there
like nothing just happened
I was seven years old
if that
And when i look back
I see a bloody hammer
I dont know when it was used
I dont know how it was used
I didn't even look at her
Looking back, I probably couldn't even look at her
Or maybe I saw
And its tucked away in some vault
All i remember is that feeling that we couldn't get him off
Her own son
Beside the same bush we used pluck honeysuckles off
She layed there,
right under the rose bush
I remember her flowers
Her big rock by the driveway
And how she would work on her yard for hours
Devotement
How she would let me help
Involvement
This time i couldn't help her out in that garden
They're taking him to jail
Grandma's on an ambulance
All I can picture is the back of that ambulance
Then the back of the hospital
Its dark
I hear my mom billow i hate him, i hate him, i hate him, i hate him, i hate him
Mommy always taught me never to hate
Grandma's on a helicopter flying to Duke
We're in a car i can't recall, flying to Duke
I never thought Grandma would die
and she didn't, I remember her most for fighting to stay alive
Horizon
Medicine balls, mirrored walls, matted seats, maybe blue
everything in that room seems blue
not a sad blue
just blue
A blue Horizon
but thats where Grandma got her strength back
They say the second she woke up, she asked for me
could it be because she knew i was there?
I cryed writing that right there
I hear Grandma's cane
tipping down that same hall
where i dried my hands on my shirt
"Gramma's slow baby" but she made it work
Thats where we get our toughness from
The heart of a tiger

Stream of Conscious #7

Hopefully this one wont be long. I'm ready to write this next piece i'm about to write after I finish writing this blog entry. (mouthful, excessive, i know) Anyway the piece is actually hopefully gonna be a way to cleanse myself of some of the trauma from my past. The story that it will depict will be a story from my childhood. My grandmother, Lois Florence (she hated her middle name) Bell Watson was attacked by her youngest son and beat into a coma in 1995. I saw the whole thing. You'll hear what happened in the poem. Detail for detail as I can recall it... Strap up, this ride my get rocky.

Riding High

I done
Been in the mountains
Been in the trees
I done
Been on the beach
Feeling the breeze
I done
Been on 22s
Been on 23s
Sittin high, watching DVDs, gettin high
But I wasn't smiling this hard even then
I swear I'm stuck with this grin right now
I'm Riding High
I can see the skin on my cheek out of the corner of my eye
I Keep biting my bottom lip
like i'm shy
Pretty smile, huh?
Thats what she told me
I dont wanna name names so I'ma call you Sunshine
Shorty beams yo, I'm telling you, like Sunshine
And when this sister smiles...
Special shout out and a red rose for Sunshine
Whole day was rainy til I got with Sunshine
The night I watched my dreamgirl inch closer and closer...
Another smile,
I still smell your cocoa butter
While Lauryn Hill narrates Sweetest Thing i've ever known
Kissing you on your collar bone would rhyme
But I just sloooowly trace the tatoos on your back with one fingertip
Gently
The soft caress of happiness
;)
...the night I watched my dreamgirl inch closer and closer...
So why are you my dreamgirl?
...
I go for pretty
All men go for pretty
But I dont prefer that classic, celebrity pretty
I go for special pretty
Aint but one Sunshine walking 'round the city
Aint no room for any more than one
Thats like more than one sun
But more than special she so natural
And the inside and outside coincide so purely
Natural beauty...
I could sit back and watch you being yourself
...but enough about you
Back to the night I watched my dreamgirl inch closer and closer...
Another smile
A poetic Saw three in the background
Squeezing your waist with my hands
and we kinda just met for real but its cool
and its alot of people in here
and her people's in here
and they lookin
buts its cool
because a couple of times...
for a couple moments in time...
it was just me
and you
And you was smilin that hard too
The night I watched my dreamgirl inch closer and closer...
Another smile
And i'm even blushing now
and that best descibes my night with Sunshine
I'm Riding High

Stream of Consciousness #6

Ok so... no intro today, its almost 2 o'clock in the morning. I just got in 4 real. Long day. Good news. More than one thing actually. First off, I'm about to type another poem directly into this blog which I really like to do because it just seems fitting. Normally I dont sit down and write on a computer so I feel good when I write one straight into the blog because it feels like I'm using it. Anyway, secondly, probably lastly... drum roll please.... sike nah, me and Sunshine went out. (the person mentioned in my last few posts that is my dreamgirl will heretofor be refered to as Sunshine) So, like Jesus said "Whoever reads, let him understand." Anyway, the date was perfect. At first, I aint think she was gonna come. When I seen her, at first I was bugging because she brought her cousin with her. Then she sat at the bar, when I already had a table. Then she wasn't paying me any attention at the beginning. So...I commanded some. I think she wanted me to anyway. So, I talk to the dude that hosts the event and I was like look, introduce me as Nuff Said man (he knows me by my real name, Naijeer) because I need to get in the habit of branding myself; and can you do me a favor... He was like what, I was like, can you give a special lil shout out to ******, the chick who I'm up here with, and told him how I liked her for a long time and she was finally out with me and I wanted it to go well. OH YEA, rewind ........... .......... ........ I gave her a flower. WORD. I never give females flowers. I wanted to make her feel special, that seemed like the sweetest/coolest way to do it. Okay, fast forward back to talkin to the dude. So he hears that and he's like cool. He gets to talking about how they need to start earlier but he be trying to wait for ppl to get there but they get there late because it always starts late. lol. Anyway he says he wants to start now so can I do a poem now and do another one later when more ppl are there. I say cool. So he still doesn't start for like 20 more minutes and he always does a prayer to start it off. And i'm with that. All day. But he does this excrutiating disclaimer where he says this prayer is to the most high, whoever that may be to you. Doesn't sound so bad right. He takes the time to name them all. Every one he can think of and I think he be making some of them up, yo. For real. Anyway it takes forever. My grammar is terrible by the way. I think I overuse punctuation and then to counter that, I underuse it. And I tend to drift but i do that on purpose. Just for you. lol. jk. But i do that to make it pure. Just a stream of consciousness. I think this is an art of itself. It could be studied. You can learn alot about a person if you listen to them just talk. I mean just talk though. Wherever their (i had to think about which there (there/their/they're)(lol, there/their/they're, dont cry. lol) to use) Just start this sentence over. Wherever their thoughts take them to, they just say it out loud. U could learn a whole lot about a person like that. Not even just in what they say, more in what they choose to say, what they choose not to say, what they seem to be lying about or exaggerating on, how often they stop, their body language. Their is alot to be learned about me through this, I suppose then.
New paragraph man, i was rambling.
Back to the story.
I get Sunshine to talk to me and we're enjoying ourselves. I got the dj to play some Lauryn Hill. ;) Then we started talking about Lauryn vs. Erikah Badu which... come on... Anyway, he calls me to the mic for the first joint. I do my "whatup" intro which I dont know if i've broken that down in this blog but dont matter anyway, COME TO THE SHOW. I'ma start posting them up here. Videos coming soon too. (end shameless plug now)lol(stole that from my brother, who I only just met about a month or 2 ago.) Anyway, i do my "whatup" intro and go into the poem, which was 'I am a Poet'(i aint feel like pressing shift)(but i press it for the parentheses: SSA BACKWARDS). Anyway, I am a poet was the poem and it went over pretty good but I didn't CRUSH em like I wanted to (Sunshine's here, come on) There is a dude who looks just like Katt Williams up there. He trys to act like him though and thats kinda lame. But i fuck with him overall, i dont judge him. He has one very long dread way way way longer than the rest of his dreads; so he has to be an intersting person, yo, come on. Sunshine couldn't get over the dread. Anyway, he gave me mad props and thats cool. He said "people dont like to hear the truth" and thats real. Then he said he show them the proof and i was like I like this joint already. lol. Anyway, he was one of the acts, and an actual comedian that was actually funny as hell (i got his number, i networks ;) da long way. lol) Anyway as all these ppl are performing, Sunshine is getting closer and closer and smiling more and more and I can smell her cocoa butter. She close when u can smell the lotion. Word up. Anyway, we just playin it real close and I got my hands around her waist and its like we been known each other (lil colloquialism for you). And we have been known each other. We just aint know this was there. I aint even kno till a lil while ago. I'm gettin tired. Long story short, lol, My second joint was "A Sigh" and it gets the real quotation marks because they LOVED it. I loved it. Sunshine loved it, her cousin loved it, her coworker loved it. It was all love. And so best described my night with sunshine. 100
ps. I saw my Aunt Licia up there who I hadn't seen in years and that was all love too...even though she didn't even recognize me at first.
okay peace out for real now.
And Jacque I had to go back and edit this post like 3 times to because I kept forgetting to type Sunshine instead of Jacque. LOL. U probably wont even read this, Jacque. If you are though :P

Stream of Consciousness #5

Number 5. Like Chanel, huh? lol When i'm on Stream of Consciousness #236 this is gonna seem like a long ass time ago.
Today's theme: In life, there are no retractions, no do overs, you put it out there its out there. I say that because the girl I was talking about in my last post gave me her number...finally. Actually like right after I wrote that. Now I kinda dont want her to see it but w/e. It'll be okay. Aint no do-overs. And thats how it should be. I'm planning on doing alot of writing in the next few days so I hope you all will enjoy that. All 4 of you. lol. I'm gettin yall some company everyday though. Started out as zero. Word.
Taking life by the horns is a scary thing. Matadors get HURT out there messing around. But honestly i dont think its failure that im really afraid of. I think i'm really afraid of success. Like losing all my friends, like ppl saying I think i'm all that now. I know "the top feels better than the bottom, so much better" (50 Cent) But its lonely up there and lonely is one feeling i cannot stand.
Even with money. In the past, there was never a time when i can say i was about my money. I done got money, had money, kept money; but I was never about it. I'm kinda getting to the point where I wanna be because I'm seeing so many things fall apart, relationships, situations, oppurtunities. The one truth I am sure of about our world today is that money can give you stability and freedom and they are a hell of a pair. "When your pockets are past filled/ nigga, ass feel better, food taste better WAY BETTER, thats real/" (Me, when i used to rap, lol) But I dont want to become a slave to money. I'm scared I will. In so many ways, I see myself becoming my older cousin. He is a pretty successful drug-dealer and he taught me alot but I began to look down on him for his money-grubbin ways. We parted ways last year but as I continue to grow up, I see why he is who he is. He just saw those walls closing in a few years before I did. When you see the "walls closing in you" thats when relationships are crumbling, your support system is wavering, you're not alone without a prayer, but you feel like you're getting there and when you get like that...money seems like such a solution.
God, if you read my blog, please keep me safe from loving money. I believe YOU are gonna make me rich, I believe you are gonna keep me rich and bless me to be able to bless others. And I will. But I dont want to love money more than people. Give me a reason not to.
"Having money is not everything, not having it is." (Kanye West)
But once you walk down head-first down that money trail, its a big risk and a big question mark on whether or not you can come back to your old self. There are no do-overs in life. I feel if I work hard now and stay down, I will make a difference in alot of lives I want to. And I wanna get paid for it! lol

PUT ME IN COACH
I WANNA BALL!

Stream of Consciousness #4

Okay folks, enough with the gay jokes... (lol) I'm silly and i quote movies alot. That comes from 8 Mile. No laughing matter today tho. (I'm putting on my serious face now) Okay. So... theres this girl (not a groupie like (i had the bitch name up here but the bitch made me delete it) (sorry for putting your gov't up here, i never got your middle name. ;) lol) The girl i'm talking about today has had my attention for about four years. But the thing is, i used to talk to her sister. Only for a while. And it wasn't serious. We just basically hung out. But still.
So anyway i tagged her in one of my poems that i posted on my facebook. She said...
"bruh , i can't fake.....ive never read any of ya notes b4 ....i'ont even kno wat made me read it , but dat shyt was nasty........respect."
Did I leave it there... ... What u think? So i kept tagging her in some of the new things I wrote because although I dont know her well, she gives me a vibe so good it tells me everything i need to know about her and her compliments make me BLUSH like a little girl. No lie. Anyway, she keeps responding and eventually I approach her. Over facebook but still, I approached her. And i think she blew me off. Anyway, i picked my face up and let it go, i kept tagging her and maybe leaving a comment sometimes because i still like her but I wasn't like holding out any hope or nothing.
All of a sudden, today she comments on a picture I have up of Lauryn Hill (who is my BABY and I love her and I've never met her)... Crazy that her of all people would comment on the Lauryn pic because I like her for all the reasons I like Lauryn. I told her that. She asked what the reasons were and I told her. Well, I told her a few of them but not all. I'll copy and paste what I did say and even what she responded with in a second but first i'ma finish saying everything that I didn't want to say to her. First of all, there is a type of woman that doesn't call black men "niggas" (which i dont particularly have a problem with) and she doesn't call them "guys" She calls them black men. She will say "black man" to you how someone else would say your name. Another girl from Newark made me fall in love with those type of women. (although not with her) She made me realize that there is a type of girl that suits me perfectly and the "black man" thing is just one of the earmarks I go by to identify them. I dont meet them as often as I would like to. Anyway Lauryn is one of them and she has all the earmarks. ... And so does the girl i'm writing all this about. I so hope she's not reading this. (EMBARASSING) If you are reading this, I want you to know (and i dont give a fuck how corny it sounds) YOU ARE MY DREAMGIRL. Word up.
Anyway, here is the convo.:


Naijeer Watson May 31 at 7:35pm btw, already knew u would love Lauryn Hill cuz i dig u for the same reasons i dig her... .

(her name) May 31 at 8:29pm && wat reason is that?
Sent via Facebook Mobile .

Naijeer Watson May 31 at 8:39pm I was hoping you would ask that. 1: Jersey girl. I love it, i love it, cant get enough of it. I get along better with them because they understand the way i interact with them. 2: You have something positive on your mind nearly all the time and you have a desire to share it with those around u. Thats beautiful. 3: From what I've seen of you (just at your crib and from your statuses and comments from time to time) we have alot more in common than just the city we came from. But coming from Newark is way different from being from anywhere else and u know that. 4. But now i'm draggin so last but not least you are beautiful. All the way around. Your smile is original and suits you perfectly. Your sexuality is original and suits you perfectly (again, from what i've seen). Basically, black woman I love your style and I think you would love mine if you knew me... .

Naijeer Watson May 31 at 9:12pm please dont leave that mesage unreplied .

(her name) May 31 at 9:18pm that was special......i appreciate all that Mr Watson....I can say the same about u.....I love the fact that when u part ur lips its pure poetry without even trying.........ps , i been stalking ur blog on the low =)



So... I ask for her number. She leaves me flat hangin....
I'm beat.

I guess if dreamgirls were obtainable they would just be girls. Dont hurt to dream tho right...

2 Ballads of A Lonely Soul pt. 2

Dessert seems but a dream now
Not that it will not come
But that it will be cinnamon
Sweet to the nose but not the tongue
Rich to my ears you seem…
You bittersweet young dream
Missed chances threaten to devour
Our sweet and sour thing
And as I stare outside
The world is growing dark
How can us two be one
But feel so far apart?
That lonely soul: we share-
What of my aching heart?


Though the world seems dark and cold
Memories I try to hold
They come they go, they move so fast
As dust inside an hour glass
Those chances are not missed but skipped
A better one will come at last
Tired lips again shall meet
Sugary hope makes cinnamon sweet
Watery doubts cannot compete
Slippery hands cant begin to grasp
Pain is beautiful and bold
But too much makes deep scars from scabs
The sad song of one pair cries on
Harmony cant be split in half

2 Ballads of A Lonely Soul pt. 1

The ballad of a lonely soul
Longing is sweet but it gets old
True love is pure, forever young
Done is a train that never comes
Staring outside my window pane
Cant feel the wind, but see the rain
Cant taste the sweet but smell the smell
Almost is hell, I know it well
So far I’ve come since I left first
So close is where the pain gets worse
Wild horses drug me far away
A lifetime gone is everyday
The sad song of one half a pair
I’m not complete without you here

Wild horses drug you far
But aint no mountain high
To keep us two apart
I’ll wait until I die
And as you stare outside
You’ll feel me staring too
You’ll smell the sweet I smell
Dessert tastes just like you
No, done will never come
And longing may get old
But love keeps patience young
And soothes a lonely soul
The song of a half a pair
That lonely soul, we share.



From "Blue, Purple & Scarlet"
By Nai-jeer Watson
Copyright, © 2010

I Am a Poet

I am the Frankenstein created when you combine
An effortless speaker with a tireless thinker
A restless mind whose thoughts are not just mine
I don’t recite, I share
Give the world
A long, skeptical, curious stare then show you what I see there
That’s just me doing me
You can’t kill the migration by shooting the bird
I’m just me doing me
You can destroy the Bible but you can't destroy the Word
This is me doing me. So you can kill the noun
But you can’t kill the verb.
What I’m doing is me
I am action.
I teach you- simple emotion ain’t the same as pure passion
Contentment
So tender
Can’t compare to raw satisfaction
This is whole different pumpkin we’re smashing
Who could imagine that you could form a faction between
Rhyme and reason, art and ration, focus and distraction?
That’s just me doing me.
Yea
Who made bittersweet sound normal in your ears?
Who can mold emotion from words that fit weird?
Over the years, your :Langstons, Homers, Shakespeares
Those are my peers
Because soon enough they’ll be naming Nai-jeers
Though they wrote by different rules
All different rules
And my style is too free to be ruled
I mean, if you give me wide ruled or college ruled paper-
I
W
R
I
T
E

T
H
E

O
T
H
E
R

W
A
Y

Forget the formula and find another way
Another way to give a gem to the restless
Wake up the sleep and bring breakfast
Steaming and sweet
Sweet and steaming with meaning that refreshes the brain
Early
But the cereal ain’t the same when you go against the whole grain
Young people gotta have their pop.
But it’s a shame
Because these corn flake characters make rapping look lame
Like they’re lucky just to have a charm on their chain
Like their arteries ought to be strained
Because their blood pumps in vain
My blood pumps the same as Martin
Heart of a king
But rewind back before the dream
While Martin was at Morehouse
Malcolm was in a whorehouse.
We all chase freedom, you just gotta find YOUR route.
Both turned out murdered, executed, death penalty
For enlightenment…?
Well you can hand in my indictment with excitement
Because this little light of mine I’m gonna shine and get high with
Fly with, survive with and die with
Are you deaf?
Are you dumb?
Are you blind?
What? You’re still trying
To read between the lines?
That’s fine.
Try writing between them
Try thinking
Between them
Try rocking the boat, sinking, straining, struggling to breath
And: swinging, drowning, drinking, gulping, gurgling, gasping, wheezing… then swimming, emerging, singing and dripping freedom
I am
I didn’t make the wheel
I just like to make it spin
I’m still, a creator
But I aint make the world
I just like to watch it spin.
I am: an observer
I am: I writer
I am a poet.

I Love Atlanta

Too tall to act small,
its the city i love
A woman named Atlanta
Brown skin, bright eyes
So fly, so young
So live its like its alive
As i ride down 85 through downtown
Windows down
I hear Atlanta breathe
She... She make it so good I dont wanna leave
So down to earth and so down
We shoot the breeze
As i ease through town
I stand proud
In affluent establishments
To infamous streets
Bass beats from each passing box caprice is her heartbeat
Creativity is the blood in her veins
i soak it up from all sides as i circulate on trains
Walked out of the station
Lit a port and gave a junkie some change
She kinda needy
but when need be
she treat me the same
She know i'm greedy but she feed me the game
Soul food from KK's
She whip me up
Good southern cooking in Zone 1
Put me to sleep
Wake up i'm lookin for a 10 dollar L of kush
to fill this philly
I bust the guts
Plotting on this chicken philly from gut busters
Lay back with ATLanta while i'm puffin
Lil buddy rock to that Gucci man too
Wooo
i think i love her
Only thing is...
She got some bad ass kids
When they're not being silly
They Run and Shoot
because really "ball" is all they wanna do
Bad ass daughters too
South dekalb, or lenox mall or the AUC
MMMMMM
Taste so sweet
Thats the -fruit- of her body
She -produce- the Georgia Peach
So classy
So Street
Hotlanta
So cold
but so sweet
Sweet Auburn
I mourn since the sun set on
But before the auburn sky
Turned that dirty burned orange
She had a twinkle in her eye that lit up the whole black sky
like Centennial Park 4th of July
And as more and more peaches dropped
I did my bop through 4th Ward Streets
Royal Peacock
She showed her artists new potential
to reach
Reach the sky like the pencil building on Peachtree
And you can see it from wherever you stay
Towering condos give me hope that everythangs gonna be ok
And
She listens to whatever I have to say
In midtown at the Apache Cafe
Okay
And she's O sooo Pretty
But so they say
Aint no love in the heart of the city
but Ay
Let her go: no way
"Where they do that at?"
Forever I love Atlanta
And she loves me back

Us

We are the billowing black cheeks blowing sassy trumpets
Always the jazzy young class fusing fashion function and style
Meanwhile we are the big scary brutes groaning under burdens borne
Whose backs are not easily broken
Born humming blues
Well black man, that’s our voice
They poke holes at our poise
Because they fear the way we persevere
And envy how we look good doing it
We are hewn in stone and beautiful to the bone
The sweetest thing even queens like Lauryn Hill have ever known
As irresistible as chocolate
To our mothers
Sisters
Grandmothers
They push us through
We are the dark shadows of triumph her heart goes out to
We have been stroked with brush that paints midnight skies,
The beginning of each day of our lives
I know we wake up to be greeted by this unbalanced justice they feed us
Like they expect us to just eat it in silence
But I challenge us to not be defeated
We are kings like lions when all we have is our pride
When we are scurried away from and eyed
Eyed
Eyed down like we’re a threat
When we haven’t eve bothered them yet
We are lions
They feel like we’re in their village
So like lions they want to cage us, sedate us, kill us
We are the brothers of the lion of Judah
The stone rejected by the builders
They feel like we’re casted from the mold of a savage. What’s sadder they think we fill it.
But I say we’re more soldiers than killers
I say its time to be more
More dealmakers than dealers
More than Christians - Crusaders
More than Muslims - Pillars
Because this isn’t about them!
Black man remember we set the rhythm in this nation we live in
We set the trends, make the music, score the points
We are the thoroughbred sires that run faster and jump higher
‘in the bedroom the boardroom and the streets
We made our own c-suites
We are the versatile hybrids whom sing mothers supported
Whom older ladies encouraged
A fatherless generation whom musicians inspired
Whom Obama empowered
I took mine you took yours we made ours..
OURS!
Now I’m hearing Klan members saying “White Power”
“White Power?”
I shake my head in pity
I shake my head in dismay
I smile because I’m flattered but that don’t make it okay
These days “pro black” is cliché’
Afro-centric, just a phrase
I feel pure pride that we took the matted afros of slaves
And made our distinct unique dreads, braids, fades and waves
I think we are fly in so many ways
And the wind beneath our wings is our pain
We are hurt
We are lost
We are hated
We are feared
But that’s not excuse because we are loved
And it’s up to us to make it from here.

A Sigh

Okay, hello world; its me again. Nuff Said from the bottom or just Nai-jeer Watson always being humble except for when i'm being modest. LOL. Long intro. Pardon me, i'm just excited. I am about to write a poem directly into this blog for the first time. Its been on my mind for about two weeks to get it out and make it beautiful, but i havent felt the need to take the time to do it thoroughly until now. Enjoy.

A SIGH
A sigh for the economy
A sigh for all the people settling for less, sometimes for scraps,
and blaming it on the economy.
A sigh
for all the people born with wings but never fly
A sigh is all i got those people,
i'm spreading mine
leavin frettin behind
because the biggest enemy of fear
is activity
so i gets busy
a sigh for liberty
happiness lives at the intersection of freedom and responsibility
a sigh for humility
in the cold-ass, overheated
indecent stupid superpolluted
overpopulated rock we call our world
this is where they take your kindess for weakness
in our world but some wanna keep it
and it aint no secret
but we dont peep it, we act like we dont believe it, we just...
(exhale)
a sigh for technology
people dont know the number to their own
parents' phones
but i got this stupid HTC super HD
5g live stream internet
wide screen
unlimited texts
80 gigs of memory
and i might be bugging, but i think it do something other than that
call people, bruh?

A sigh
for all the fat dudes
tryna holla at fly chicks but gettin no reply
for every tear every insecure young adult cried
for everyday they wish they died
and it was pretty outside
for the thousands deaths that more than just cowards die
over many, many, mini tragedies
a sigh for everytime the world ended when i was 17

A sigh for Iraq, DAMN!
Man its been damn near 10 years
yall aint find no weapons yet
and the people as a whole been against it for years
i almost lost my big brother over there
but they dont even care,
at all,
they still there
like "fuck yall"

but i cant leave myself out, yall
a sigh for everytime i felt the need to grab my balls
and ball my fist
or call that name
or get that last word
like the meek aint goin inherit the earth
like you gotta be scared to go to church
a sigh for all the imes i didn't put God first
for all the times when i was too cool, too young, too proud
a sigh for all sheame too deep to say out loud
a sigh for anorexia
bulemia, depression swine flu
a sigh for every diesease every plague, with no vaccine no answer
i'm no MD, but i c worse ills in the world than cancer
A sigh for crack cocaine
a sigh for every body who been touched by the sweet and sour caress of crack cocaine
for every nephew neice son, that lost sisters, brothers, uncles, Aunts, Mom's and Dads to the same damn thang
a sword that cuts so many ways
that cut and cut for so many years it left the fabric of my underprivilegded society in frays
a sigh cuz get money is the phrase that pays
when the love of that is the root of all evil i can show the page

but a sigh for judgemental people
a sigh for racists
a sigh for the Hawks this year
a sigh for life's brevity
i say at the same time as i strive for longevity
cuz some days it seem like the minutes aint long enough
hours aint long enough
years aint long enough
life aint long enough
my only fear is that i wont have long enough
a sigh for every team that didn't lose that didn't lose they just ran out of time
its hard to come back from behind
a sigh cuz we all know they had a head start since head start
white moman on tv said she let her baby sleep to mozart
my daughter mother be banging gucci man
a sigh one last time cuz kids are the future man
so the math
says... one day we'll be the past
i can add
good enough to know i dont got much time
so all i got is quick sighs for all the ills outside
exhalin the bad
more room in my lungs to make the sweet moments last
just one sigh for my whole past
and i'm free at last

Stream of Consciousness #3

Whatsup? So i'm checking my email and there is an ad sent out by Outskirts Press. (who are actually very helpful and I kind of feel bad not using them as my publisher, but they'll get over it) Anyway, the email is about blogging and how if you want a strong demand for your blog, you have to add to it everyday. It said those postings add up and you'll have a work of art altogether on its own, I presume. At any rate, this blog is now my baby, my journal, my friend. To anyone reading this now or may read this later. Thank you.
Okay so, I'm a Christian. Of course I sin. But i'm a Christian. And I'm on stage all the time and alot of times when I get off stage, some pretty girl is grinning from ear to ear and telling me how well I did. I typically indulge the one I think is the prettiest. Well in the last case it was a Poetry Slam in Durham, NC last Wednesday and a girl named (i had the bitch name up here but the bitch made me delete it). We exchanged numbers and I called her later that night. We talked til 5 a.m. We texted throughout the day and made plans to go to a movie. I couldn't get my hands around a steering wheel in time to make the movie, but I called her and she let me come over to her apartment...
Yea. So I bring an independent film that some guy was promoting when I was out promoting myself and I really wanted to watch it. So (i had the bitch name up here but the bitch made me delete it) offers me something to drink. All she has is Pepsi and Wine. I hate soda. She pours my first glass of wine and I drink it quickly as the movie is starting. The movie starts off with just sex and weed EVERYWHERE. I'm bugging out because this beautiful girl is beside me and I know that I have been fighting sexual urges all year but right now I just dont want to say no. Too close to the flame. I tell her to go and fix me another glass because she is SO sexy and I want to see her walk over to the kitchen one more time. As she's pouring the drink I walk over and get behind her in a little causual but sexy way and say I wanted to learn how to pour out of a box of wine instead of just a bottle. She laughs and pretty much accepts my advance and the whole night was just pyshical contact from that point on. The movie turned out to be a Christian movie about not having sex before marriage and we were having sex while it was on. I met her the night before. Some would call her a groupie but I really liked her and I dont think she was wrong at all. I was wrong for putting myself in that position and for even advancing on her. She aint have to kick me out when we was finished though. LOL. I felt like a straight HO! You live, you learn...
(i had the bitch name up here but the bitch made me delete it), if you ever read this, i'm sorry for putting your name on my blog, dont nobody read it yet anyway lol. But seriously you are beautiful and I really liked you and im sorry things ended how they did...
Thanks for reading everybody. 100

Stream of Consciousness # 2

So, I've been missing for a few days. Sorry, i'm new to this blogging thing, but I want to make it an avenue towards success so I'm back to it. I only have one follower right now, and he's and old friend, but patience and time will bring increase from God. Not to say i'm waiting for anything to just happen. "Good things come to those who wait, but only the things left by those who hustle." Abraham Lincoln said that. Hustle. Lincoln knew we had to get out here and hustle in the 1800s so I dont have any excuse at all. What I do on a day to day is make efforts toward ultimate success. Acheivement is the word that most suitably narrates my life. Acheivements are my checkpoints, my mile markers, and the gas that keeps me running. I suppose that metaphor is very fitting too because being in your early 20s feels like driving in circles. You're trying to find your way and establish yourself, you keep ending up in places you thought you were already beyond. Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. I hope i'm not just going in circles, i hope there's a finish line. I still haven't seen that checkered flag but I am moving in faith. With that said... To all my prospective followers and readers: THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT. I'm gonna need it...

Stream of Consciousness #1

Do you ever listen to old songs that you memorized when you were younger or just say them outloud and become taken aback by how real what the artist said was? That happens to me often.
Sadly, my choice of music growing up was generally hip-hop. My life was never supposed to be relatable to that of an ex-drugdealer/killer-turned rapper. But things got scary at times and I clung close to the upbringing I was never conscious of but was really getting all along growing up around the people that I grew up around. I got a baby-momma, I got in trouble with the law, I dropped out of school. GOD's forgiveness made me able to live with myself through all of it; even able to respect myself through all of it. Poetry was always me. I used to always rap. Rap, rap, rap. About everything, all the time. For fun, for money, for popularity, for friendship. It was never genuinely a way of expression. It was always a way to assert myself as having stand-alone talent. I'm sure other people do similar things for similar reasons. Poetry freed me from the monotony of rapping. I became embarassed to even tell people I rapped. Noone really wants to hear what a rapper wants to say. Maybe someone does, but most people dont. But when I get on stage or anywhere for that matter and recite a poem I wrote...that I was able to pour my heart into, analyze and encrypt and sculpt into a rhyming, rhythmic, entertaining work of art... indescribable. I made some old women cry yesterday with a poem I wrote. Rewarding. Period.
I hope everyone finds their -poetry- and are able to fulfill themselves with it before they become bitter toward the tart taste of life, the bland flavor of adulthood, or the burning sensation of chosing the wrong path. I AM A POET. We all are. Nuff Said.