She was so used to my flow with words of poetry/ that she said that my voice
sounded weird when I emcee/ In my mind I'm trying to razor that box/ Bonnie and
Clyde Fort Knox/ Until we're stopped by the cops/ Clyde is my creativity in
this metaphor/ Bonnie is the music/ and we're both at war/ With the cops who represent
status quo/ so the guns must be the flow/ bullets must be the words I'm
spitting/ On the run from mediocrity/ trying to put a lock on me/ and throw away
the cell block key/ and give my art to the authorities/ Authorities represent
charities that want the art for free/ Like my life in the verse isn't worth the
blood it was written in/ So I continually spit again and again/ Not looking for
friends/ Because they always seem to recognize/ the pain behind the brown in my
eyes/ dark as the Earth but bright as the skies/ Son's of bitches still telling lies/
despite the look on my face that says that I really despise/ fraudulent fake
fuckaz/ with their chin raised up and two lips puckered/ ready for a crossover right/ like a crossover right from a ball player at the Rutgers/ Like the defender got, got/ I'm gonna get you sucka/ the sucka represents a form of success/ that sucks the life from you/ if you sell your soul to get large/
pretend to be hard/ for the sake of a facade/ When your pimp is the one who's
in charge/ The pimp represents the vanity of man/ hot damn/ this demon just ruined
your plan/ got you looking like Stan/ had Eminem a part of his life/ like Em was his
wife/ Without a ring or a promise in Vegas/ a gambling table without any dice/ trifle/ looking at your hand full of spades and no hearts/ irony/ a lack of
heart/ tore hip hop apart/ But back to this verse/ what would you do if you
were me?/ ignore creativity climbing through my window at night/ climbing into
my bed and giving me brain right/ excuse me/ giving my brain light/ and my
heart just like/ the love of God/ the universe/ the Sun Moon and the stars/
ignoring her would be hard/ and might leave me with scars/ to be blessed with
these bars/ and never write em down/ the tree that falls/ still makes a sound/
even if no one's around/ like the supporters for an indie artist/
GB
The more I dig into poetry and strive to perfect the art, I realize how many styles and forms it comes in. I also realize that there are some real life "Poetry Snobs" out there who believe Poetry should strictly fall under the categories that exist for this art form. I will agree that it is a wise move for a poet to be a student of the styles that have come before; I believe some of the snobs are missing the very essence of creativity. Art is supposed to evolve, take different shapes and forms. The art is not supposed to stagnate. Instead it should flow like water. New styles should challenge and go beyond the boundaries of conventional styles and convention styles should have an open ear towards a new way of doing things...
Above is what I call "Free Verse" where each line bleeds into the next either by reference, rhyme or double entendre. The term "razor" has a double meaning in the title. It makes reference to the sentences "bleeding" and the fact that this type of poem cuts the "box" some try to put art in by having to categorize everything, instead of letting the art live freely.
Until Next Time...
Nice poem, beautiful work, nice to meet you...again
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