The Testament Pt. II

I am 18
going on 19
going on to the rest of my life

and they say that you need college
to keep from being a failure

they say you need college
to succeed in this country.

they say you need college
to be anything in this world.

Well,
they're wrong.
the government is wrong.
my old school is wrong.
my parents are wrong.

No, I am not going to college
and I am not a fucking failure.
I am not a loser
and above all else
I am not a statistic.

I am a living human being
who is going to make a difference
in this world.

I am going to fight to become
whatever it is I want to become
and nothing
not even a lack of a college degree
is going to stop me.

This is a testament
this is my testament
stating that anyone who wants
to be something they aren't yet
has all the time in the world to become that
stating that no matter who you are
or what you have done
it's never too late
to be someone else
to become something great

So, yea.
I do see the difference
between not having gone to college
or not having a job and being a good person
someone who helps others
and changes lives for the better
and
having gone to college
or having a job and being
a complete and utter douche bag...
a waste of human life...
a detriment to society...

Listen.
this goes out to everyone
who wants to give up.
Everyone who,
much like me a month or so ago,
thinks they'll never be able
to do something worth while
with their lives.
this goes out to those people.
and this is me saying
yes you can.

Beaten Up Chucks (Original)

Beaten up chucks
on a downtown street
smoke in the air
looks like lies and deceit
got a chain hangin'
from his right side
the expression on his face
is like somebody died
and his footsteps fall
like battle drums
and as he walks
he hears the sky hum
"Children he's the one
that your momma told you 'bout
he's the one to be scared of
he's the one you should doubt"
but he walked anyway
and he looked straight ahead
'cause if the sky was right
he'd already be dead
and he was as alive
as he had ever been
the stereotypes fell
to let his true colors win.

I believe her (every time)

I have a girl and she says
she will love me forever
and I believe her
every time

it's not for no reason though
it's not out of blind faith or nothin'
it's because when she looks me in the eyes
I see the girl I've been looking for
and now I just want more

and every day that we're together
I'm reassured I'll love her forever
and I know that it's
for real.

Her name is lauren and she's my girl
she's pretty, no she's beautiful
and wonderful
and she is the world to me

Every time I see her face
it makes me want to leave this place
and run away, run away
with her

If it was up to me
I would be at the best place to be
which is right by her side

'cause I have a girl and she says
that she will love me forever
and I believe her
every time.

Becoming Who You Are

Is it too much to ask
to go into my past
and take apart the things
that made me
who I am?

I once told a friend of mine
it's better to live than die
and now I'm standing on the edge
of life and
what's beyond...

I need to know
what's past here
whether it's
something I should fear
or if it's something
I have known
all along.

And if it's God
that I must face
I will not be one to pray
for forgiveness because
I believe
in what I've done.

My time has come and past
and let me tell you: make it last
Now I know for sure that you should
live with no
regrets...

When you are where I am
I should hope you'll
take a stand
against what your told
and what you
really know.

Baby Girl (a song w/chords)

Em
Baby, I know what it is
G
you want from me
Am
It seems so hard to see
C D
I don't know what to be, yea
Em G
What is it that I'm doin'?
Am
I'm running from the government
C D
I don't know what is true and
Em G
someday we'll get married
Am
outside of the states
C D
you know that I can't wait, yea
Em
Tell me
G
what you are thinking
Am
What's running through your mind?
C D
you know I've got the time, yea
Em G
Baby girl, you're the one for me
Am
It's not hard to believe
C D
it's only you I want to see, yea

Home.

Cremated in a house fire
the arsonist got away
but still, I am left in agony
lying in my chair
-the worst place to lie-
lying to myself
about the validity
of statements left unsaid
and yet I am dead
not in a morbid way either
but in a more
optimistic
point of view

they're so invalid
now that I think about it
-points of view, that is-
I mean, what truth
does a point of view hold?
none is the answer.
but merely an opinion
traced to the eye of the beholder.
The fact of the matter is,
no matter what
no point of view is correct
necessarily
merely percieved as correct
by whomever
carries said point of view.
No matter
how much I think I'm right
the likelihood
of me actually being right is slim to none.

I just want this shit to go away.
I want to be somewhere
where people care about other people.
Where feelings of love and compassion
reciprocate amongst everyone.

I don't care anymore
I hate this... this hate
it's stupid
it's childish
it's unnecessary
I just want to be alone again.
God I never thought I'd say that
EVER.
But it's true.
No one here cares about me like she does
like they do
back at the place I belong.
My real home away from home.
Although, in actuality, it isn't really
a "home away from home"
because I never had a home to begin with.
It's my home. Period.

Puppet

Bullets ricoche
in empty hallowed halls
no one hears
when the poor girl calls
to god
there was no one and nothing
beckoning to her
she had no hope left to refer
to her weary heart
and her mind
she was all too kind
to those who betrayed her
Again, she prayed
to the one who segregtaes her
from society
when no one answered
while she was on her knees
it was far too easy to plead
for her life
but she wasn't the knife
in her ribs
she had things to live for
and although she was sore
from the beatings
she stood
with no help from Jah
or golly or gosh
her feet slosh
in pools of rain
and tears
and her thoughts sear her head
god wanted her dead
but she refused
and said
"I'm no one's puppet."

The Best Thing

Sometimes I sit and think about us.
Come to think of it, I always sit and think about us.
More importantly, I sit and think about you.
Your thick hair
your vibrant eyes
your loving stare
your sincere good-byes

your tight hugs
and gentle kiss
and what always bugged me
is what I missed

Let me explain:
you drive me nuts.
I mean, you drive me absolutely insane
but then,
I'm insanely in love with you
so I suppose it all works out.

I just want to be with you.
all day.
every day.

I want to be there for every laugh.
every smile.
every moment of pure joy
spilling from your face
like a beautiful aura
dancing around us
as we kiss.

My friends say
I'm a different person
when I'm with you.

I'm happy.

and you know what?

they're right.

The fact is,
you are the best thing
that has ever happened to me.
and you are the best thing
that ever will happen to me.
I love you Lauren Yarnall
and always will. <3

Lyrics Remix: Beaten Up Chucks

Beaten up Chucks
on a downtown street
Niggas don't play
'Cause I got my own beat
footsteps around me
cover my flow
I've got my girls
you don't even know
what to do
when I'm comin' 'round
what should I call
this brand new sound?
fightin off niggas
like it's goin outta style
this white boy don't play
I'm like the 8 mile
Real talk though
I ain't no one to fuck wit
so you better not
even think of tryin' to truck this
I maybe can't ball
but I lay down the rhymes, yea
I may not be black
so catch up with the times, yea
All these stupid rappers
all of them can suck me
'cause all I really need
are my beaten up chucks, see
and now you've heard me spit
so just try and touch me.

The World We Know (A Rap/Rock Song)

Rapper:
People dyin every day
another life another say
I never knew it was today
that she was gonna be
traded by fiends
for heroin and other things
and as they snort their coke
they'll hear him sing
that...

(chorus)
Singer:
Everything you do
They don't know
They don't know that it's the truth
These sheeple follow you
and you tell them
and you tell them what you want them to think
what you want them to do

It's the world we know

(verse 2)
Rapper:
And the world we see
Fighting's become
a way to be
because some people
aren't free
from corruption and hate
and then her pupils dialate
because the guys
can't get a date
and so they chose
to date and rape
as if there was
no other way
but then they'll hear him say
that...

(chorus)

I fight because I care
about the people unaware
of the rights that we all share
to life and love and all that shit
if people knew they'd have a fit
because they live in cells unlit
and as they rot for crimes undone
they know those motherfuckers won
and that this fucked up system grows
and that's why I use my flow
to tell you we can fight
against the world we know.

SRX EDGE

The pen I'm writing this with is called "SRX Edge"
I never understood why
they give such not exciting items
such exciting names

Actually, to me, a pen is exciting.
It might just be a tool
but, to me, it's a tool
with which I forge my art
create my craft
chistle my statues
of glorious heroes
in the world of poetry:
Robert Frost
Emily Dickenson
Sylvia Plath
Big Poppa E

That's right,
I said it.
Big Poppa E.
A man who's words have transformed my childhood
into such inspirational topics
that they've made my mediocre work
art.

So now I'm wondering to myself,
"Where do I go now?"
I'm sitting in in-school-suspension
for skipping bullshit classes
I don't even need
and I can't help contemplating
"Where am I going in life?
Where will this path lead me?
Will I go to college and become
a school therapist like I want to?
Or is my dad right?
Will I be nothing more than a failure
fighting for change in the desolate streets
trying to survive each winter?"

The truth is, I don't know
I don't know
I just don't know.

My life is
like T.S. Eliots "The Wasteland"
like Ophelia's last words
like Romeos plan
like Big Poppa E's "Pushing Buttons"
like being addicted
and having smoked your last cigarette
and not having nearly enough money to buy another pack
so you sit there and shake and fret
by yourself until your next paycheck
like so many allusions within similes
that I've honestly lost count.

Just like I've lost count
of the years that have gone by
since my dad last said he loved me
or called me "champ."
Just like I've lost count
of the number of times
I've cried over that last statement
and how many times
I've written poems he didn't read
about that last statement.
Poems written with a pen just like this one,
a not exciting tool
that cried it's ink onto a page just like this one
just to forge my art
and create my craft.

Come Children

I wanna see the world
through the eyes of a seed
drifting on the wind
listening to it plead
"come children of god
come children of trees
let me hold you in my arms
let me kiss you with the breeze"
I wanna view the earth
from the eyes of a girl
a girl down on her knees
whispering to god
a girl begging "please,
don't take my life
don't give me keys
to heaven or hell"
-she pauses to weeze-
"I just want to live
in this room that I lease
for eight hundred a month
with this guy I won't leave
'cause I love him so much
and I truly believe
that if I don't stop
I will not cease."
she stops when she sees
outside her window
a very small seed
as it passes her room
-the one for lease-
it seems to plead
"Come children of god
come children of trees
let me hold you in my arms
let me kiss you with the breeze."

The Blitz

I am
constricted
to you, less
addicted to
meticulous
actions
for factions
or fashions
soldiers
need water
or rations
but we ain't
no plot or
no passion
'cause we
ain't for
nationalism
or lack there of.
You see
it's me
you're comin' for
'cause I keep
spitting lore
like a common whore
or your dad
when you were four
and I pour
the words
right down your throat
you come back for more
but you can't
get past my moat
of allusions and rhymes
just past the time
of war
it's what time
is for
a sight for sore
eyes that blind
and hands of gore
lips that list
a love I've kissed
they ask me the name
I say
"if it's all the same
we're not at the ritz,
so call this
The Blitz"

Sunsets

like rain in a forest
pouring over the canopy
like smiles in a crowd
burning through the fog
like diamonds in the rough
ascending to human hands
like pearls in your eyes
a shakespearian tragedy
wrapped in a turncoat
wrapped in a trivial sunset
can sunsets be trivial?
the beauty of purple over orange
over yellow over red
the colors meshing in
sensual intercourse
as I feel your smooth skin
against my chest
a glorious romance
embedded in my arms
like so many tattoos
I know you're there
like a crystal in a field
I feel your heart
like a sunset
I see only you.

Never Again

Never again
she said
spite pouring through her veins
and arteries
like so many cars
over the san francisco bridge
and if we were to look in one of those cars
we'd see a girl
probably nineteen
on her way home

There she sat
lonely and bound
to her seat and belt
like a dog to a leash
dreaming of getting up
and flying away

but she doesn't
she sits there
and thinks about her ex
a boy too confused
to see what he wants
she thought to herself
well, what if he knew?
what if he knew
exactly what he was missing out on?
she shook her head
relieving herself of the memories
so fragile that their
shattered fragments
blocked her ideas
of peace and serenity
and she reminded herself

Never again.

The Fertile Land (a.k.a. the Wasteland part VII)

I disagree
February is the cruellest month
where snow and cold winds rule
and in the dead land
a rose grows at my feet
bending in my direction

Oh, I see the sun
it's shining all around me
the dead land blooms
with sparks of chaos
and the ruins of something
beautiful.

Oh, this one goes out
to those who refuse to be defined
like those dictionaries with no words
they shone a sad light through
the soul of a long forgotten ghost
saying
"My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad.
Stay with me."
He is the third that walks always beside you
the third that has stolen my conscience
and corrupted my mind
behind
it seems
the world can go it's own way
in fact, it can fade away

Spit a hole to China

Swept away by vicious tides
of hate, breeding in the masses
trying to find some solace
in a mountain dew and a jack
outside in the cold
I run my hand through my hair
while my other hand maintains
a burning cigarette.
With no one around
I spit at the ground
hoping to burn a hole to China
so maybe I will have someone to talk to.
It won't be much
as the language barrier will
defeat any possible
logical flow of conversation
however the sound
of another man's voice
is enough to make me desire it so.
Oh, how I wish I could spit a hole to China
how I wish I could burn my way
into another man's heart
a friendship between us
that breaks all possible restrictions.
When there is no further test results
I will march into the lab
where my soul was born
and take the conscience
that is rightfully mine.
Oh, how I wish I could spit a hole to China
just to have someone to talk to...