My Last Show

My Last Show
Downtown Durham, NC (Bimbe Festival 2010)

Friday, May 7, 2010

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.

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