Dec 31, 2007

mama knew

Got middle school dreams in note books underneath my bed in a bin that can't seem to hold words that heavy
Mama said I couldn’t just leave em’ in the closet any more
I guess she couldn’t stand the fact that I could have ideas of a revolution held behind closed doors in our apartment
And not have that shit pay rent!
Guess mama knew. That my words
No matter how badly spelt
are worth something.
I guess mama knew
Yeah… I guess she does .

Nov 9, 2007

Eulogy (R.I.P.)

Even if we continue this path
Nothing ever lasts
So I pay respects to my graduating class
As I pray and hope we all have gotten somewhere
Because we forgotten why we left there
Forgotten why we made it here
Faded, dissapeared, existent in only dreams
In the same youngings we performed for
Now they going for it
Only I performed more but I understand the circumstances
We enchanced and advanced education but left poetry abandoned
Imagine if we reunited
All back again same people standing tall some women some men
Some poets, some singers, some producers, some pimps
But no matter what SlamFam will always be within
We all come from that one bond
Even if you broken off
So even if you forget it you will remember the SlamFam call


As we approach the stage
Issaka looking ready
Mauricio plams sweaty
We battling each other in a libary
Wayne lyrics got everyone anxious and waiting
Miguel spitting politcal rage and blazing the shit
You got me in the scenary and Edwin's probably describing it
Either way
All our forms
We mastered it
Made it our own that why no one else could f**k with the champions
You could say we were the best of our time
The forefathers of SlamFam so I am not scared if you asked me to rhyme
I can still spit
I wish I could say the same for everyone else in it
We evolved and progress
And tend to drop that helping hand when your ready for success
But as we dropped poetry
And entered a new stage, we tend to let go of middle school ends
And tend to let go of parents stronghold and start to forget our friends



Sep 22, 2007

A Walk Thru My Path (No More Drama Rmx.)

Have u ever been hurt so bad, that spendin sad nights alone don't sound so bad?
Even my dad cried when grandma passed, so
how should I feel now that I'm left
alone in this cold zone? No emotions shown.
Havin' no home that I can call my own.
The stress had gotten so bad that I began 2 smoke.
So now I'm beggin 4 change while I'm on my phone.
No wonder everyone ignored all my calls 4 help. It's
hard 2 win with those conflicts I was dealt with.
Only 14, check them circumstances,
but growin older taught me that that was only practice.
Stuck out on d's streetz alone ain't no joke.
Do u know what It's like bein homeless and broke/
U don't know what to know, or who to believe.
U can't trust no one, not even police.
U see thingz u never wanted 2 see.
Ur something u never wanted 2 be.
I saw the same thing happen 2 my boi Ronny,
I'm sorry I couldn't save u from malnutrition.
Ur wishin.
Hopin dat at least God would listen.
Livin a life of strain, strugglin tryna maintain ain't a game,
so 2day i promise 2 thingz...
no more drama, no more pain.

This is 4 Ronny, Stephanie, Kimberlee, Tommy.
Survival of the fittest, no more runnin 2 mommy.
My wordz keep me strong, so my penz stay beside me.
I gotta keep movin 4ward, ain't nobody gon stop me, cuz.
I'm tired of playin games.
I'm willin 2 make a change.
I'm tryin 2 clear my name,
and never look back again.
this life I'm livin,
wuz corrupted by
those nights in prison.
So I pray 2 God,
"Please Lord, 4give me!".
See me eye-to-eye.
I'm tired of sinnin.
I'm livin a life
I'm tired of livin.
Free me of these lies.
Ready 2 give in.
I'm tryna get by.
Thoughts got me trippin.
Check out my shoe size,
glad u don't fit in?

I bet u are,
cuz then u wouldn't have the option 2 take a walk in my shoes,
and then u wouldn't have 2 see the type of shit that I do.
And then u wouldn't have 2 breathe the type of shit that I do.
And then u wouldn't have 2 feel the type shit shit that I do.
And then u wouldn't have 2 eat the type of "SHIT" that I do.
And then u wouldn't have 2 deal with the type of stress that I have,
so just be glad,
that none of ya have 2 take a walk thru my path.....


Inspiration From The Instrumental Of No More Drama by Mary J. Blidge(Blige)(Wutever)

Comment If u like or dislike...1

Jul 19, 2007

ClockWork (Tick Tock)


The same old tune keeps playing in my soul
Holds me down from acheiving my goals
Only god knows whats in store in me
Just bad opportunites that keep calling me
But I'm interested in what people are offering me
But just more interested in working the streets
More interested in my poetry
More interested in choices made by the people
Why one choice is good and the other one is evil?
Taught about God and divinity
Time and infinity
What does this truly mean?
Been told not agrue but accept a skeptical concept
But except my mind won't let go of it
Its been killing me
The Holy Trinity
Which fairy tale do you want us to believe?
Why people choose not to believe?
Only time gaps us farther from the truth
Earth proof has eluded us once again
Erasing the memories of heroes, the legends of evil
Why time controls all men?
A man-made theory
Made strictly for organization of history
But continues to rule our life under restrictions
We know what we got to do and when to do it
All we need is


"And a wise man told me
Don't date the days, cause a date don't change the days
And flippin pages don't change your ways
All that does is change the page"
That affects me in major ways
I never had enough time to any thing I wanted
I can't buy it, can't trade it, can't make it
I hate it, I wish I could just throw it away
And maybe people won't be depressed
Because a fairy tale wouldn't save them from misery and stress
Waiting till the day they die
Crossing off the days of the calender
Slowly investigating, and contemplating sucide
If we can't control it, why we create it?
If we use it constantly, why do we hate it?
Why can't we change it?
Why did we make some thing that brings only stress
All we can do is wait
Sitting down just staring at its face
Watch the hands close and separate
One minute your happy and the next hurt
Just from looking at the clockwork
Hearing the clock go


I wonder why these units run our life?
Why can't we change a unit?
Change the value,
Why people do things they aren't supposed to be doing?
I seen people been moving some units
People aren't clueless
Some people are just screwed up
Everyone has been tripping over time
Changing over time
Changing because of time
Only because its time
Time made you waste life
Life doesn't waste time
You better live according yourself
Keep it in mind
Age is just a number to count how long you live
No matter no long it is
Don't make it a struggle or a big deal
Don't ever let it put you down, I know how you feel
(145x...miss u)
Time made technology foster
Only brought us more destruction to deal with
Only a loaded gun could heal it
Only a fission bomb could solve it
The fat man did its job, Nagasaki still feels it
But still what can I do?
I still can't change the truth
Because it still controls you
Still has hold on you
Even what Earth has been through...
Time made everything works
And there is nothing we can do about it
No use to doubt it, no use to cry about it
And with the soft motions of the clock
All we can do is listen to it


Jul 13, 2007

15 days (don' t worry and tell me what you think )

I can’t remember how her hands feel
but her essence still lingers in memories
And her smile is as vivid as the sun
Sticky fingers
Every day after
That ice cream cone mommy told her she couldn’t have
52 pounds at ‘3”7 short
Curly hair down to the ground
She told me once that my eyes resembled that of an angel witched refused to carry its wings
I remember how she was always beautiful because she didn’t know the definition of ugly
Remember how she love red
but only
before it stained bed sheets Running down thighs she wondered if time would return what was rightfully hers
Finding that crying doesn’t help if your tears have no where to go
Remer her asking me if what so vividly played repeatedly in her mind was right
if it was okay to be touched in such a way
Only 15 days
before her,
9th birthday
I remember the last time she cried
But only because her tears were beautiful
The words that once lived on her lips
That was the last time she cried for mommy
Because mommy never came
and after he came
He told her to wash him of her flesh and never was she to let mommy know because
It would hurt her so
And she asked for me to help keep lips closed
But that doesn’t mean I had to let her go
Blissful ignorance
And way to many gaps between her teeth
She is the way to live life
And all I want to do
Is to want to live life
Want to say fuck slit wrists
I have enough scars to know what it feel likes to heal
But only wounds
See I need to know
How to heal the distance
Between the maturity and innocents in my adolescence
And no her face will not be printed on the back of any milk cartons
And every time I hold her picture and ask if anyone has seen her
They say unless you have a twin she’s standing before me
But what they fail to see is the purity held within her eyes
Unlike mine
Writing letters filed with apologetic words
To send to an address that I don’t have
I can’t call to apologize for letting her hand go
because her number isn’t listed as one of my contacts in my cell phone
And though I can ask to be forgiven
For letting her hands go at age 8
I know
I can never be forgiven
Forgetting how her hands felt
Only 15 days
before her,
9th birth day

Jun 28, 2007

Whers da Fam?

Wrote it after seeing Ryan's and Miguel's posts....needs work, i didnt read thru.

I heard the same shit too Joker!
EXTRA! EXTRA! Slamfam Splittin,
First time i thought that thought, I thought My mind was drifftin,
Driftin away into acting in plays, less recitin dem poems, more acting on stage
I felt like a traitor and i done gone betrayed da shit dat made me Wayne,
Now im typin dis poem from da heart and and its bringin me pain,
Pain dat drains your very being onto a single page, a sheet of paper,
Lines run across it horizontally, as my words balance on top forever and later,
Truth be told, I wondered when there would be another blog post by me,, dats da place to be,
Da one place that kept us tight,
lets less rely on myspace and begin to write or type,
what we think or feel,
Whats goin down and wats the deal,
not show our feelings through surveys or posting pics askin peeps to rate your sex appeal,
Its time to buckle down and head for the core,
This is not a poem its a realization ...wats yours?


For this "Post or Die" s**t
You could call me the poster child for it
But I doubt any1 would hear the message being spread
I don't even think people even check the blog
Call up Mr. Craig
This s**t is dead
But its what ever
I understand people got things to do
But its new to me that no one ended up doing poetry in high school
So I could say what I want when I want with out worry
I mean the last time I saw every1 post it was like February
It don't matter any1, any more


This is a Royal Flush Announcement.........

Thank You....

Jun 26, 2007

Reply 2 Ryan's Wordz...

"all of diz iz freewrite so some parts mite b confusin'."

SlamFam iz Dyin'....

slamfam iz dyin'?
ryan u lyin',
u trippin'.
we juss been busy,
so now u think we slippin?
more like flippin up middle fingerz 2 our teacherz.
u think we've givin' up on our wordz?
wut show have u been watchin'
wut lyf have u been livin'?
Look out cuz SlamFam got a more younger generation.
and they started off good, but wait till separation
tears their wordz apart.
i saw it at graduation.
it happened 2 da best of us.
Look around u, where's da rest of us?
1 in new jersey, sum back home, 1 almost placed in cuffs.
but luckily i had da slamfam wuz thea.
dont ever say slamfam iz dying,
cuz 2 god i truly swear
time and time again
itz my friendz who where there to
snatch me off da streetz,
drop my flag
and head back 2 f.l.a.g.s,
my current skool.
my current mood iz irked.
cuz i think diz mite b tru...
are ryanz wordz gonna end up legit????
we workd 2 hard 4 diz
2 juss let diz fam slip.
please, if u got wordz 2 speak jus do it, and post it.
cuz da absense of da SlamFam from my life iz "like total" bullshit.

I need ya,
i need ya wordz,
i need ya wordz so i can feel alive again.

New Saying...

"POST or DIE!"

Jun 25, 2007


What is LOVE?
What is its purpose in life?
Well let me show you how I feel about it
The good side of love and the bad

Logically it's a liking but causes liability for lovers
Looking like its real but in actuality it's covered
Locking emotions into place leaking and seeping intimacy
Leaving like and love into a stereotypical feeling

Obviously people oversee true intimacy
Over analyze s**t and it leads to overt hostility
Of course people fight for affection
Others strive for it with
Oncoming opportunities its an
Onslaught of emotions

Vicious verbal altercations created from it
Vexing over the true meaning of it
Very well in turning the meaning to hating someone; this
Vandalism of the word making it less valuable
Veils from true lovers who knows the value of it

Each person encounters true love at some time
Either it escalates into something more or not
Egotistical mother****ers take advantage of what they got
Effortless attempts to get with chicks using love as a facade

Well if you haven't gotten the picture yet
Love can be tough
But for all of you people out there who still don't have a clue
This is for you

Elsewhere two people equally excerise their love
Expressing emotion beyond understanding
Equating to a perfect relationship
Equipped with the right knowledge, they conquer the world underhandedly

Vigorous, treacherous, and unsteady emotions
Vile, senile, even ludicrous notions
Vulnerable, barren, heart-warming and caring
Vengeful, hatred, turn into vital marriage

Oaths of love are supposed to be pure
Overwhelmed with passion lead to an
Obscured life
Often times we must endure
Opposition and obstacles lie on these chronicles
Often open up doorways to our oblique answers

Loveless doesn't mean hopeless
Loneliness will soon fade
Let time take its course
Looking for it will not help in any way
Languish and anguish would go away because
Last time I heard everyone was ~Destined2bluved~

Forget what you heard
Everyone can be love
No matter what

-Royal Flush ENT.
-Inspiration driven by Papoose "Alphabetical Slaughter", and some other things.....
-SlamFam is dying

Jun 4, 2007

make suggestioin to make poem better

i wanna write a way

i wanna write here

i wanna write brave words to fight my fear

i write my dreams and nightmares like the day my neices life flashed before my eyes

now all i see is ashes and while she lays in grave resting in peace

now she's probably wondering what her life would

i just wish i could've replaced her life with me and bring her back to this not so wonderful world

she could've been sleeping tight saying good night right now and not in ashes and bones and not knowing where soul would be

but theres one thing she will always remember ill always love her no matter where she is

even dough she didn't know the defenition of love she just died to young

i might scare some folks stuck in the days with nothing to say
but that was just the begining heres the end

my little cousin beaten to death by her so called father every time he saw her he abused and left bruses

like an races cop at war with blacks and whites in the 40's - 60's

every time i see that man it reminds me of the harmful death my little lived

now every time i see that man i feel like killing him i should've when i had the chance and put him out of his missury now people look at me like i'm some kind of criminal

i guess i just miss the i use to carry her in my arms the way she use laugh the way she use to try to mimic every word and silybol anybody said

but people still look at me like i'm some kind of criminal but i say in my mind is cause of my skin color or what i said

and now with an stare and glare like ive been living street and corner selling weed crack and co-cane

just cause they confuse my race and the way i dress

i may be American Hispanic Asian what ever does it even matter

you take one look at don't even know and already judjing

but non of this wouldn't never been happening if that so called father of my little cousin never beat her to death

and her mom at a window

tears going down her cheeks like an rain drop gliding down window and still wondering about that so called father of my little cousin

my cousin on her lap

and the deciept i see in the eyes of the so called father

the sadness in the moms eyes

and the tears in mine and my little cousins



May 29, 2007

Check out OpenFloodgate, a new web site that allows you to publish your work instantly. Add your own stories, poems, articles, scripts, books, lyrics, slides, and photos, and check out the cool creations others have published on the site.

One more for you...

Urbis is a creative community with three types of users: creative people, those who love and support creative people, and those who have opportunities for creative people. It's very creative.

Okay folks, think MySpace for writers, poets, essayists, playwrights etc... Check it out, you wordsmiths.

May 26, 2007

~Middle school ~

Forgotten like socks
Underneath teenage beds my existence lied hidden from my eyes
In grade six
Until Caucasian lips
Forced poetry into lesson plans
Witch then forced my mix hands
To feed words onto blue lines
Giving me the freedom to regurgitate memories for a grade
Dried tears lied in the middle of note books and these note books became my own history books because in grade seven it became apparent that
Yellow skin does not have a section in social studies text books
Suicide thoughts came from pen points like thunder in a rain storm
I drew my scars with pried only to hide the pain I felt
Then I fell for a stuttering slam poet
Whose poetry never stuttered and if it did
Well poetry taught me how to look past that
Funny how our eyes only met between stanzas
Poetry helped our hands meet in every line brake
I carved memories of a beautiful mistress on lose leaf
Verbally drew salted water falls on scrap paper
And fought bipolar battles with ink

I have written my auto biography
Not up to now but up to last night

September 7, 2006
the first day of 8th grade came 4 years to soon

See I wasn’t ready to be all grown up but time waits for no one
So sitting alone in a class room filled with familiar faces I found myself
Internally tripping over the words
Witch fell from the same Caucasian lips that forced poetry to spill from my finger tips in grade six

See this year we would be slam poets
Not myspace fiends
Not tempted to tag a cutie on tagged
Or give our faces to face book
We would be slam poets
I’m not talking about that snap your fingers after I perform my poem type poet
I’m talking about that stomp your feet scream
Clap your hands type poet

So we had to step our game up
And we did
We lied until our clothes were stained
Freed innocent fairy tales from juvenile jails
Found children who didn’t complain
And after this we
Had the munchies for some true friends because we only had a few
And this hunger
This hunger
Brought my mind back to those young days when I didn’t know what I was living for
When the only writing I did was neatly folded and passed
By middle school hands
From notes to note books I watched my pen do back flips on peal pages stories of how
Daddy became father were woven in to pages of
Blades kissed wrist leaving stained like red lipstick on unfaithful coalers
And I wrote until mommy couldn’t find her first born anymore
Because she was covered by
Haikus and sonnets
I drowned my self in poetic
Thoughts and it was beautiful
I mean it was pure ecstasy
No need to roll blunts
Just roll ball point pens on paper and smoke poetry become
Poetically high and have the munchies
To update your vocabulary
Poetry allowed me to revisit memories
Four stanzas ago
I was 3 all over again
And when tears fell from my eyes pregnant with
Disappointment poetry was standing by holding a box of tissues
From being my
To my best friend
From a male voice telling me a poem existed
To me actually giving birth to premature words
Poetry left scratches on the walls of my womb
So now even I
Celebrate mother’s day
Poetry helped me recreate my own reflection and made my finger prints match my personality
This was the foundation of staying sane
See some how
Sanity and poetry coincided when it came to me

When it came to me poetry
Touched my soul like the cries from
Abandoned bellies
And you know what
poetry is the reason I don’t stress over the fact that I can’t fit into
A size 0
See no matter how big I get a pen
Will always fit between
My thumb and index finger
Never would I have figured that
The purpose that was once forgotten like socks underneath teenage beds
Would’ve been found in middle school
Note books

May 20, 2007

Quoted from K-Swift and UrbanWord NYC, pass this along fervently!

New York City youth aged 14-21 are needed to fill out a quick online opinion poll about NYC public schools.

This ain't no mayor's survey- it was created by youth to ask other youth about the real deal on schooling in NYC. Speak up and contribute to a redesign of the NYC school system at

Why do we have to compete for things that we actually have rights to in our schools?
Why is it that I know the changes that need to be made in my school but the power to make these changes is totally out of my hands?

Since January 2007, the Youth Researchers for a New Education System have been working together to do research on school control and the purpose of schooling.
Part of a larger city-wide effort to redesign schools to be based on human rights, this participatory action research project seeks to understand what schools would look like if they were about collaboration, not control and competition.

Our goal is to get 1000 surveys completed by May 30th, 2007- and you can help! Just pass this link on to every NYC based youth, teacher, youth organizer/educator and parent you know! And don’t forget to check out

For more information, contact the Youth Researchers for a New Education
System at

May 13, 2007

I Remember...

I remember riding my horse, Lady-M bareback, losing myself in the imaginations of an 11 year old boy. I’m a cowboy! YEE-Hawwww! Until Giddey-up showed me what real cowboys face…

I remember standing, solemnly watching as my mother’s brown Toyota Celica’s tires swirled up dirt cyclones as she drove the expanse of our dusty gravel driveway, and I prayed she’d return from work soon…

I remember huddled in a crevice in her room, how my sister stared at me with those Disney eyes, as we tried not to listen to my mothers harrowing cries…

I remember being rewarded by my father for my heroism as I sailed through the air, my leaf like body batted by his branch coming to a dead rest as my fragile back puckered a whole in the drywall of the master’s bedroom…

I remember my mother packing…

I remember watching my mother’s tears as we tried unsuccessfully to stab open a can of soup with a knife, the second time I saw her cry, since newly separated from my father, we still didn’t own a can opener…

I remember the sweet taste of steer meat, ketchup and tomatoes, American and Swiss cheese on my burger; and I remember the first time my mother cooked up store bought beef…and I remember becoming a vegetarian…

I remember not having to go to a park to see leafy trees and green grass, not worrying about arriving early enough to get a spot or throwing a football over broken bottle glass…

I remember when shiny new grills meant a burnt burger stuck to the barbecue…

I remember as a little black boy in predominately suburban Midwest Wisconsin when Yo! MTV raps meant Heavy D was Mount Vernon, Krs-One the Bronx; in fact I remember when the only BX I knew had an M in the middle, and usually left my child ashy legs with severely skinned shins and bruised knees…

I remember when driving south through Chicago, radio stations played songs about fighting the power, struggles with the cops, and breaking free of restrictive chains, instead of snap rapping, leaning and shaking and how low those chains hang, when Self Destruction gave way to self-indulgence and We Are The World became We Fly High, …ballin’…

I remember elementary school art class when the teacher actually told the class to use peach for people’s skin, when my burnt sienna didn’t fit in…

I remember when wireless simply meant cordless, broadband was the piece of purple rubber holding together broccoli stalks I chased and popped my sister with, and cable, cable was the wire that connected the antennae to our uhf/vhf TV. I remember being the remote control; in fact, I kinda remember rabbit-ears, tin-foil and locking pliers…

I remember when the Olsen twins were babies on Full House, Michael J. Fox only attended political rallies on his fictional sitcom and both Mr. and Mrs. Superman hadn’t met up with kryptonite…

I remember when the only Elmo I knew was the name of a fire in a movie about some high school kids doing detention, and there were barely six, six resident’s on Sesame Street. Ah Ah Ah…

May 11, 2007


As my hand slowly moves across this empty paper
The same paper that moved so many people
That gripped their attention, dispensing them of all desires and wants
Those made my lines seem like fists
Cautious thoughts, became dangerous
And same unstable topics became the center of gossip
This empty graveyard that holds my buried poetry
I am indeed afraid of this graveyard, that’s why I don’t visit the dead
Instead it is time for me to look past the past
I’ll savor the memories, what ever would last because in my mind
I was a fine poet; no one could ever tell me other wise
But I can’t hold it, though it hurts me to know that all good things must come to an end

I sit back, reminiscing to all this shit I would be missing
Flipping through archives of poetry, with all kinds of poetry
But this eulogy is tearing me in two, to choose a fate between what is and what was
What is now dead, but what was once life
My life
My soul
I hold this pen, which now becomes my shovel….
I write my fate as I erase my past
No longer taking the same path anymore
My journey has come to an end
My final burial is here
Tears of final thoughts dripping and vanishing
Quickly splashing on this patch of dirt

This casket is closing in on me
How couldn’t I see, that I brought this fate upon me
I hold my breath to savor the life I had
I throw my lifelines away
Lowering my past into a coffin into the ditch that I made
I do not write any more
Because I don’t have any more tears
Because my rays of inspiration were never really there
I’m not a writer anymore, that’s dead now
It’s gone, only to haunt my pages of former words that still dwindles in the fire
And that’s the meaning of a ghostwriter
I’m still scared of what my future holds
I know what was, is not what is
But what would happen if what was is in my what is?
I can’t cope with memories, because it brings back what kills…..

I sit back in my chair
Still staring at my empty paper just like 3 minutes ago
Still staring at my burial
Still staring at my graveyard
Still staring at this shovel, that has dug my hole
Still waiting….
Till my last breath takes me away
At least for while, just a few months
Still waiting….
Patiently, till I can get my life together
Poetry is dead; I am doing this for the better
Nevertheless, I am not to be underestimated
A poet that has done his job 100 times over deserves a break
But now this is it for me

Mr. Prolific Poet

May You Rest In Peace…

~Still is SlamFam for Life~

~I Miss You~

Apr 27, 2007

should we or should we not use the N-word? (not a poem)

Ms.presiner (C.A. teacher) gave us this as an assignment, ever since i haven't been able to get it off my head. I just wanted to know what ya'll think. If you want more info before you answer or even if you don't you can still go to to learn a little more about your history. It really sent a couple of chills down my back after looking at these pictures. is where the pictures are. learn more, live more, be more~1~ luv all you guys from last year

Without Sanctuary

Without Sanctuary

Apr 1, 2007

Its Like Beef

The same degree of love ain't the same no more
We changed, after a few weeks and we can't even talk no more
Because of a Simpleton yea we cope with the difficulties
But it was still hard to believe that you would leave
See the s**t you gone through, the one that helped you was me
I guess you just don't want my sympathy
So f**k you
From the s**t that you've been through??
You probably be running back when s**t goes down
But my phone is one else would listen to your cries
No one to replace that dagger in your heart
No one but I
I'll watch it bleed, deep wounds never heal completely
So I'll reopen those same wounds if you ever try to hurt me

Miles of separation only made us grow distant
You in one direction, me in another
What kind of bull***t is this?
From being one of the closest, to one of the forgotten?
If I ever gotten the same chance, I wouldn't of betrayed you
But with the gain of Becky's trust, Tobi still sitting with me happy
I forgot all about you, Kandhi said I was stapled down, not free
What could I do? I mean I was filled with reluctance..
Whether to call or not
See if your busy
I hadn't called you in weeks but see if you'd pick up for me
Guess not
Its like we had beef
Like you had to attack me emotionally, but behind my back??
The fact you couldn't even tell me straight think I wasn't going to find out?
Now I know the position you in is tight
Its like this beef started because I didn't pick up that night
Maybe the night before....or before that..
But better believe that I call you right back

So continue f**king with me
I don't really care any more
I guess you ain't true peoples
I'm not going to be waiting any more
I told you over Myspace, I don't have to say it again
From the beginning, I knew that this s**t was going to end
Is it because deciding to move made you ignore me?
Is it because not picking up a few times anger you?
I talked to Morgan a couple times, trying to get my head straight and
Thinking of you could only make me aggravated

I don't need you, s**t, I never did
And if you think calling will help, you don't know what help is
Better leave me the f**k alone
Your voice would only do that much harm
Only if that last week didn't happen, we'd still be getting along
Turning back isn't a choice, f**k...its not even reason
I'd only be concealing the pain that I've been feeling
I rather let time take its damage on me
I'll only get stronger, rather let it past by me
This is not a battle, this is some emotional beef
Don't get the wrong image, I'm not into fighting
One kid's betrayal leave another abandoned
So he's has to verbally assault, but he doesn't know how to handle it
He's caught up, stunned, mentally in a state of doubt
Meanwhile this other kid is walking out
S**t you don't even know the half of it
I knew this s**t was going to go down, but I wish it had never happen

Mar 26, 2007

Lilo's in the house right now!!!

I'm back like cooked crack,
and that's some good crack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
yes my password finally worked!

Mar 10, 2007

Collecting for Fire Victims & Family

Good Morning, afternoon and evening to everyone who visits and reads this blog. Normally, we reserve this blog to the brain droppings of several student in the form of their written word, but today I needed to reach many people and spread the word about a devastating situation that has befallen some of our school family members.

By now, most of you have probably heard of the horrible fire that claimed the lives of many in the Bronx this past week. One of the victims, who is still in critical condition, was a student in Mr. Julien's class last year. Not only is he hanging on to his own life, but he has lost many family members due to the fire. We at the school are collecting food, clothing and hygiene products for him and his family. Non-perishable items please, and clothing of all sorts are graciously accepted. Their family has lost lives and their home, and will quite literally be starting over from scratch; so any and all help is immensely appreciated. Donations can be made to our school at 1000 Teller Ave, Bronx NY 10701, attention Ms. Abel or Ms. Hill. If you have anything you can spare, anything you've outgrown, or simply would like to give from your heart, please do. My personal contact info is onemorepoint@gmail (dot) com, if you can't get to the school but would still like to help.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Mr. Craig

Mar 6, 2007

A Message to my Poets

I can finally see that this poetry is far beyond just a thing
Through listening and watching over a 10 inch screen I am amazed
From 6 weeks of labor to simple free time
To beautiful lines or simple freestyles
To the little rhymes that makes me smile
Even though I would never remember the line that came before it
I would always get your craziest of rhymes stuck in my head from
"But everything has it own Jekel n Hyde but y does Hyde hide and Jekel remain free?
When we all know there are 3 in a trinity? Add a bit of me"
"My pen shoots through you"
our winnings draw our fame
We can only show them what SlamFam means
So I'm taking a step further and I am going to release....
An Album....which is why I haven't posted in 3 months....
But once its done, you'll realize why my e-mail is Hustle4moredough
I'll show it 2 u on April first
Prepare yourself becuase once its done
You'll hear every1 talk bout "SlamFam Presents: Mr. Prolific Poet vol.1"

Mar 4, 2007


Somewhere in Queens,
There’s a toddler sittin’ in between two teens
In the back seat of a rented Lamborghini,
While his mom’s blastin’ music from “The Emancipation of Mimi”
But the tot’s not in a baby seat cause his moms thinks he’s not so teeny, he don’t need it.
But she’s doin’ 80 down a one-way street like she on a freeway.
And on the end of that street’s a student talkin’ to his peers.
With blasted music so loud, there’s nothin’ she could hear.
But she sees the kid, quickly kicks the brakes and…
Damn, that baby only lived for three years.


Somewhere in Staten Island,
There’s this stay-at-home-wife sighin’,
Signin’ a restrainin’ order cause her husband’s on some domestic violence type shit.
Shit, just a piece of paper?
Should be jail time since
He’s gonna end up knockin’ on her door sooner or later.
“See ya later alligator!” is what she’s thinkin’ now,
But “In a while crocodile!” is the thing that makes him smile.
“Smile now, cry later!” so she holds herself to a smirk on the side of her cheek.
Should be thinkin’ about the reality,
But instead she sighs a sigh of relief.


Somewhere Downtown,
There’s this girl cryin’ on the ground,
Cause the ground’s the only thing that can catch her when she’s feelin’ down.
Down, under that phony smile that’s sloppily placed on her face,
Lyes the lies that are fed by her very own disgrace.
Amazing Grace doesn’t seem so graceful,
When you’re facing a rough road ahead,
And there’s no one to relate to.
Too many hits to the head by her so called “Boyfriend”,
Is why she lays on that cold concrete ground, dead.


Somewhere in Brooklyn,
There’s this crippled man shook cause,
He don’t know what to do when there’s these little kids shootin’.
Shootin’ hoops ain’t the only thing he wishes he could do.
He’s doin’ nothin’, but buggin’ cause his cousin stole his shoes.
Choosin’ flags over family?
He gotta be mentally challenged, B.
He obviously doesn’t understand the damage he
Had to be
Goin’ through that day.
Now day after day,
He’s testin’, searchin’ for the right knife to take his life away.


Somewhere in The Bronx,
There’s this boy gettin’ shot,
And shots of heroine’s injected in an arm down the block.
They’re overdosin’ themselves because that’s all that they got.
They got no family that loves them because they busy smoking blunts.
There’s bricks of marijuana somewhere, so they busy breakin’ locks.
Locked up brains secluded, intruders like the meltin’ pot.
Plottin’ their way for invasion.
It crept through to you,
That’s why that boy is getting’ shot.


Somewhere in this house,
There’s this poet spittin’ knowledge out his mouth,
Cause his mouth comes second to his pen which let’s his knowledge out.
Out there are the lies that try to infect ya mind.
In here are the words that try to make them unjustified.
Do ya mind?
You shouldn’t, cause believe when I say this won’t waste ya time.
And time is somethin’ that you can never get back,
And that’s a fact.
You could believe that,
But don’t believe that “Wrong place at the wrong time” stuff, that’s bullshit!
You’re where you’re supposed to be right now,And that’s somewhere important!


Stuck in sweet conversation
He was the ugliest of them all
but his words were sexy
Verbally attracted to him
he had more than love to offer
Such a beautiful intellectual
His chipped tooth
meant nothing
Mad as hell
cuz I almost look past this beautiful minded guy
But happy as heaven cuz he said hello
even after I gave him that
I’m just to pretty for your cooked kicks
I mean I’m to shallow to be with u
Sorry but u cant afford this chick
But his mind
was fine
And believe me he let me know that his time was valuable
sat me across from him on a park bench while he violated my mind in every way possible
But I wont press any charges because American bars cant hold his voice back
He pried memories from my head
I gave him brain on our first
not quiet
first date
Screaming for help
I lost my voice doing that
what was I thinking?
this is new York city where no one has time
to save a damsel in distress any more
But hey
At least he didn’t murder me
but he sure as hell left a mental scar on my life.
He lowered me standards
my bad
deleted them
So now theirs is no man that’s not good enough for me
just a man that’s not eloquent enough for me.
I took three steps back when he to one step forward because his mind was to hot for me to Handel
I was stuck in a tight position because my vocabulary did not contain enough word to continue that conversation
But I loved that he intimidated because it has been so long since the last time
some one had the audacity
to put in my place
And I am so happy that I was given the chance to be a victim to his words
I mean
I guess
I was asking for it
just by wearing those high priced shoes
U know the shoes that say
I’m to stuck up to spear change for the needy
He just knew I needed a reality check
And as he checked me
I found myself checking out. his display
I felt like I was in an art gallery and I’m not talking about any normal art gallery I’m talking about that I don’t even know why u conceder that art
type gallery.
The words witch fell from his lips crepe up my spine
releasing my soul on this I don’t care how much your salary is
give me words and we can have kids
I mean this guy had me so messed up
that I would trade my hand held
just to hold hands with him.
It was love at first sentence
mind blowing
at first sentence
But I wasn’t quiet sure if I fell in love with him or his words.
But hey
if he said the right thing he could have
my heals over
my head
in a matter of seconds
So stuck on every faze
he slowly gave my hands a sudden crave
to touch his culturally diverse skin.
And after he took my 7 digits he
swiftly told me he would be calling from the nearest pay phone .
And when I left to meet the very same people that made me shallow
they could see that my skin had this
I just
Won the lotto
type glow
and I let them know
that as I lost myself in this angels chocolate blessed eyes
he mind raped me.

Mar 1, 2007

I just haven’t taking my last breath.

its not the best that I’ve written but it's true, and its the last thing that I will write at the age of 13. lol tell me what you think.
oh and before I forget Mr. Craig I let my tongue lose a little , just forgive me. okay?

Time has not allowed me to live
But in the time I have left I will take every breath I can because I have never known any feeling so satisfying
Family never came first because in their eyes I was always a secondary priority
But my friends
and I mean the people
who aren’t afraid to tell me when my hairs a hot mess
those real friend who don’t care how bad their words might hurt because they know I need to know
I’m talking about the people who allowed me to know the truth.
My friends .
always put me second
But that never bothered me because I understood family came
So happy that they had their life where mine couldn’t be because although mommy said I was greedy there’s nothing I wouldn’t want my friend to have
But as soon as I saw past the fog of reality the prize was already on its way to that place where dreams that weren’t quiet dreamt went when they left my head
But its okay because if I was really meant to keep this happiness then it will come back to me.
According to “ the secrete”
If I visualize it , its as good as mine.
So after my 9 to 5
Ill go see Kevin revise his Oscar for best roll in a comedy
And ill be bobbing my head to Rainey’s latest CD while Mr. rampersaud will be mixed in the same damn play list. Rooting for rikay at his base ball game, and Denisse will have a seat saved for me when her feet blesses Broadway’s stage
Taylor will live next door to may Angelo
While viola busting Miguel out of jail for having M.T.V burnt to the ground guess they couldn’t Handel the fire.
And you know what I just might have kids so they can attend the new board of ed that Mr. Craig him self created single handedly but not alone in hope.
Damn its funny how I just painted a beautiful master piece with no canvas
but people don’t pay for what they cant see at least that’s what mommy told me.
But wait
I’ve placed her aside with perfection
and you know what I think I might just end up where my heart wants me to be ,
my bad
my ass isn’t included in this one.
Yeah there aren’t anymore cracks in my dreams
Because my goal is sealed in the best Tupperware sold on shelves
So no matter how many times it falls out of my site none of what I’ve worked so hard for will have been wasted on the people who wanted to keep me ignorant.
Let me just say god gave me these eyes not to be blinded by your bull shit of what will be my life.
But to see what my life could be.
So yes I don’t have much time left to attend the same class as my extended family
But phones were always my best accessory and I have not Inhaled my last breath of this thing that I found in the south Bronx on school grounds
I just haven’t taking my last breath.

Feb 16, 2007


When I meet him he was a virgin
To my words
But at the end of my appearance
Virginity was no longer in his vocabulary
13 ?
he asked how is it that I had seen
How could it be that God let such sin blind me
But I’m not blind
For I can see every thing these eyes were created to bear witness
And sure many times
I ask why me?
But I can only look down at my feet in sorrow for so long
before my neck starts to cramp up
So no matter what image is branded in my mind it will only be a memory
A memory lives
Off time
And time is what I can not waist nor change
So I must deal and move on
And sure it sounds like a card game but what more is life
Than a game that I must play.
Wining is my only goal
For I can’t rest in peace unless I have taken this victory
13 ?
he asked with the look of surreal on his face because
The scares on my skin
are a disgrace
because it was placed their by me
But what he does not see
is that scars represent what was
and this is what Is now
what is now
is me
with no blade in hand
because I have a man that will listen to my cry and even
Dry my tears
So I declare
that today the blade is my worst enemy
And no I will not keep my enemies closer than my friends.
So as he sat across from me with his face twisted tight because he could not fathom that fact that I was only 13 and that my mind as reached this level of awareness to all
That was wrong with life from domestic violence to war
from pollution
To abuse
from suicide to teen pregnancy
I have seen all
This simply to see more
I have been tasted in all the wrong ways and I hate this time of the year because on the 17 I will be forced to relive that day
In a way stronger than any other day would have had an impact on my
but memories lives off time
and time is what I can not waist nor change
so hopefully scale will be held on that day
So I could lose my self in thing my mother clams to have lost her first child to
he asked how I mange to stay sane if my life seems to be based around pure insanity
I simply reply 13 is a number
and my words are life
13 will change
but life is the same
u live
u die
what is done in between that time determines if you win this game or lose
and sure mistakes will be made
but realizing and correcting your faults is how you win
so yes I’m only 13
but that will change
will always be the same.

(so what do u think?)

Feb 14, 2007

One more thing...

I didn't want to hijack my own post, so Congratulations to Kevin, Rainey, Jesica, Angela and Justine who wer all either performing or in attendance to receive awards at the DreamYard Poetry and Spoken Word Festival at Scholastic. Awesome.

And to Denisse, Miguel, Kevin, Rainey and Jesica for competing in, and owning the crowds at the Urban Word preliminaries and semi-finals. 13, and 14 years old. Damn.

We'll be a busload of support and sore throats on February 24th for Jesica as she attempts to make the New York City team to compete in San Jose, Calif this summer. Two years competing, two youngins in the Urban Word Finals...(I'm pleased as a peacock!)

Oh, Kevin, you own any room you walk into..., you put the energizer bunny to shame.

Some will get it right away, others will get it later. Some will never know.

First things first, I should be asleep, but I'm not...and so that means I'm being subjected to the rambling thoughts of a Tourettic/Attention Deficitic mind. I know those aren't words...but they make sense nonetheless. So in these ramblings a few things became clearer. One, I completely, totally, wholeheartedly, sincerely enjoy watching you do what you do. Whether it's just the daily growing pains of too much homework, boy meets girl, girl meets boy, parents on your nerves, on your parents nerves, or using those same pains to express yourself in a way that only you can. I love it. I've preached it and preached it, and repeated and repeated, but of course actions (and sometimes inactions...) enunciate more clearly than words, so I want you all to know that even though I'm enamored by your ability to keep winning these contests, and although I'm proud as a new papa every time you bring home the trophy, it's never really meant that much in the "grand scheme" of things; at least not after the first one anyway. Yes, you are now the four time champions, and saying it out loud, and typing it on this screen is a thoroughly enjoyable experience, yet it's not the trophies, plaques or accolades that I find the most rewarding. It's really quite simply, you. Toro’s comment on my last post read,

I never coached you guys when I was with DreamYard, but I have always dug the work you all and Mr. Craig do. Keep up the good work. Remember to write is to call new worlds into existence. Your words go deep than a slam score; you change the world every time you put pad to pen and open your mouths.

Peace and Metaphors,

I've never been able to put things the way he can, but I believe we read somewhere, and used to repeat, “The points are not the point. The Point is Poetry…” and I believe we need to get our minds wrapped around these ways again, allow ourselves to have fun, and leave our mark on the world.

And then, in saying all of this, there is of course something else...
I've never been ashamed of who I am. Not while growing up in the predominately “snowy” city in which I was raised when a fellow student wanted to “pet” my hair, not when I was diagnosed with my multiple disorder, not even when my own father told me I was just a “touch of crazy.” No, I’ve been this person, and will continue to be this person for a reason. Yet it took recent events to help me see things a little more clearly. I wonder if it’s possible to ever care too much, to “over-love” someone, or something. To want to be able to fix all that is wrong, and hold tight to all that is right? At 32, I’m not sure I can yet answer these questions, but I will tell you this…I won’t back down from who I am or what I believe I mean to all of you; not now; not ever. I believe that it’s an awesome feat when you find something that not only nourishes your mind, and soul, but also your spirit. I believe that with all of your help, I have found that very thing, and I believe you’ve found it too. I’ve told you time and time again, to never be ashamed of your energy, of your talent, of your desires to be better than average. Don’t allow yourself to be knocked aside or knocked down by those who will mock, belittle or misunderstand you. Don't be pulled down by the very people who should be lifting you up. Don’t allow the failure of others in their own lives to become the failures you dwell on in yours. It’s not easy being strong, or true to yourself, especially as an adolescent, but if you maintain, I guarantee you’ll be rewarded for your courage, stamina and determination.
I feel like I need to say more, but my eyes are closing, and I woke up once with the number pad mashed into my face. Night all. Tommorrow's another chance to get it right.

Feb 7, 2007

So my mother said

The word that come from your mouth
don’t mean a thing
your self fish
and your heart is to cold
and deprived of kindness
to feel half of these things u pretend to know when you speak
Oh and this poetry thing is nothing but a set up for disappointment
because it could never amount to anything
And u really don’t have to wait for this dream to die because it resembles a stillborn child .
And she said all this when she told me
It was just a dream
And that’s all it could ever be.

Jan 31, 2007

And the Tide of Awesome Keeps flowing....

So, after a ridiculous display of teamwork, togetherness and sheer talent, the second phase of the SlamFam, also known as 2.0, has won their first 7/8 Division Bronx WRITeS Poetry Slam. Excited though they were, it wasn't without the support of all you local poets, old classmates, and friends from other grades that came out to support them that they were able to pull off the ridiculous. We now stand as the 3 time back to back to back and 4 time total 7/8 division champions. Pride people, 145 pride!

Then I check my email while I sit awaiting my ride, and what do I spy...

Dear Mr. Moss,

First and foremost, congratulations to you and your students for being awarded the Gold Key award by Scholastic and the Alliance for Young Artists & Writers for the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards in Poetry.

Please let each of the following students, their parents and teachers know of their accomplishments:

Jesica Blandon, Arturo Toscanini - Gold Key in Poetry
Justine Brown, Arturo Toscanini - Gold Key in Poetry
Angela Deoki, Arturo Toscanini - Gold Key in Poetry

We would also like to invite you, Jesica, Justine and Angela to the Scholastic Festival on Friday, February 9th. Please join us for dinner and the Poetry and Spoken Word Festival at the Scholastic Theater. Dinner is at 5:15 pm and the Festival is from 7:00 - 8:15 p.m....

It's getting harder and harder to not come off sounding cocky, but I've got to applaud and congradulate you all for your tireless efforts in and out of the classroom, and for your awesome support of each other.

Keep on keepin' on!

Jan 30, 2007

Finals Baby!!!

Yeah we did it again, finals are tomorrow at 11. Wish us luck.

The True Me

Why can't these dry eyes cry?
Whenever I feel pain, hurt whatever deep inside
Why do I hide true emotions?
Why is it so complicated?
My fixated mind has created a perspective of a utopia
My naive mind has hidden reality from these unsalted eyes
Because whenever I face such Bull***** of today's world
I know it won't affect me in the long run
So I hide it
Why can't I exude the same feelings I used to 5 years ago?
Eluding the premise of my soul, I know I can not cry because f***ed up S*** always gets solved
But if you can't solve them it becomes a problem
So why is it that I have locked up secrets and problems no one has heard yet?
Their tainted hearts has not tasted what I have heard and seen
But I believe that one day some one would hear out my mischievous deeds
No one has called me misunderstood but I believe that I am
So don't try to run my life like it's yours!!
because I'm feeling like I can not run away any more
Like I am now trapped in with my secret and problems
But I can not cry
I am not saying that crying would solve anything but at least pour out this containment that has been inside of me for so long
I can not prolong this S*** any more because it will end up controlling me, changing me, so why can't I cry?
I don't know the answer to that, but I do know that emotions are what I can't show and for that I have been secluded
Polluted by the minds of people talk, people thoughts
So I adapt to them, begin to talk like them, act like them
Becuase no one wants to see the old me
The true me any more
But he is still inside of me
Ready to break free, and then maybe I could feel that pain
But that is not likely to happen
Shy, nervous, hurt, quiet, scared, weak, small are all the thing that doesn't describe me any more
I guess it is a result in trying to "man-up"
So I can stand up for myself
But now I just don't give a f****
This society could hate me for all I care
I've changed, people notice since 7th grade
I made life enjoyable, now I just want the truth
Why can't I cry?
Maybe my new cold heart has replaced the fragile, weak, sensitive heart I had
So no remorse run through these viens
Why can't I cry?
Maybe from hiding my pain
I have become so nonchalent and serious making this f***ed up world nothing to me
My peoples had no clue what had gotten into to me
But it got me more people so I ain't afraid to be that proud Guyanese, with my my head up, socializing, serious, nonchalent and all of these things
But my family still wants the True Me
Back to the naive boy who played til his heart content
Cried his eyes out whenever small s*** happens
I don't remeber the last time I cried
That's such a shame to me
Because hopefully I'll cry before I die so you can see the True Me

Jan 26, 2007

Christmas perfect

It's christmas eve and what do i see
i see bumbs on the streets begging for me
begging for my hard earned money
I see the poor sleeping on the streets
because no one wants to help them
because everybodies on their merry way
on there merry way
it's christmas eve and what do i see
i see the blacks struggling to make ends meet
i see the whites spending their plastic cards
cause they are afraid of losing money and power
i am afraid that we as blacks arent getting anywhere
i aam afraid that we are moving in a slower place than we was before
i am afraid that Bush is going to tear us down
to make a world of never
i am afraid of when those glasious melt in Alaska that we will drown with it
i am afraid that one day we will be gone
but today i stand here to say
Today is christmas eve and what do i see
i see people screeming
someone just got shoot down the block
what not agai
its christmas eve and what do i see
i see the blood with worms gathering on it because no one cared enough to clean it up
i see nothing
i see hate
i see torture
i see no one brave enough to look into their own reflection
and when they finally do look
thaT mirror will break and theier life of fantasy will then become reality
but once that bullet of common sense finally approches them it will be to late
because people still wouldn't care if Christmas was perfect anyway

Jan 25, 2007

Good News First!

We went up against 118 today and.................... we won!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was great!!!!!!!. Our performance was beautiful but Mr. Craig forgot to video tape us so no one aside from Wayne, Jasmine, Omar, Mickey and migg will ever get to see our first victory but that’s okay we still have the semifinals. Right Mr.C? (he-he) Now for the bad news...

the six grade lost today , but only by .4...

that’s some messed up sh*t.

So tears were shed but they're stronger and ready for the slam in spring. They are gonna kick some serious six grade butt. Yeah!

I Write

I write By Carissma Hughes

I write for the heck of it
so people all around know that im goo at it
I write to please no one but myself
my writing is like a pill it’s good for your health
I don’t write to rhythm or take up time cause ya on my dime
I write to make my emotions shine
when my words hit the page there is no stopping me
and no my words aint no mockery
I write to make the electricity in my body move from my toes through my bones and up my veins and
I don’t write to keep grudges but to let it rain and
my emotions are tearing it up like a hurricane and
no im not insane
but my words are coming at u like the #6 train
My words are like timbucktwo
they worth more money than all of you
I know I seem conceited but that’s not the truth
im just elated at the way my words are coming at u
and no im not finished I got a couple more things to say
shoot I could sit and write all day
I write cause
my words are my redemption of my creation
Which i have spoken
Which i have written
Which i have lived
Which i have forgiven
they are my deception which has put me in an institution
for my intuition
My recreation of all senses
Which has been my relation for my rehabilitation for
that can't be heard
cause my mind is not sure
of the power my heart contains
I write cause
the pain and anger will still remain
I stand hear alone not sure of the power my words hold
My mind is my solution
I have written my own constitution
of my words that can't be revealed
I need to keep my emotions concealed
My mind has transitioned from master to minion
I write cause
I have felt that my words were unreachable
Maybe because i was shattered by my own ego
My words were never mine
I'm speaking faster and faster since i'm running out of time
I'm dreaming of an unfulfillable moment
I can't reach my emotions because i never showed it

but how can i speak my mind
When there is a robot
running from my toes through my bones and up my vains
I can't control it anymore
and I know I'm not the same should i back down
'cause you want to act like a clown
I write cause
I've been around the world and throughout the country
Wait hold up i think I’m hallucinating
I've been covered by a mask of masquerading clothes
I thought i could get my topics from the youth speaks shows
I can't get control
My words must unfold
I don't know what kind of power my mind holds
I have tried to do what i am told
My words are being carried like a laundry load
with bags and more bags of things that don't make any sense
trying to put them together has made me more and more tense
My powers have been relinquished
but what i have to say is that i am distinguished
I am distinguished
I've been dropped by aliens form the past to the future
I can't be told anymore i need to be the teacher
the unreachable Preacher
the mind stopping, breath freezing leader
the one and only redeemer
I write cause
I walk alone through the shadow of death
my words were so cold i froze my own breath
My words have no particular designation
but when i speak to a crowed it has a sharp retaliation
I don't care cause I know what brings my inspiration
My words must have a destination
I know my words are my appreciation
u know what I write cause I got to much time to think

Jan 22, 2007

Let's roll!!!

All right everybody, I know I posted this on Wayne's comment, but the slams are here again; the 8th grade group is on the 25th, Thursday, 11:00 am in our library. 6th grade (yeah, that's right, another three year mission) is also Thursday, but at 1:00 pm, after lunch. Please come out and support the future if you can, and anybody else that's local, you gotta make it, please...Miguel, Carissma, Tracy, Ariel, Micheal, Miguel, Omar...Yomar...come on out, I know it's Regents week, you should have some time!

Also, The citywide slam is coming up again, we're attending the first round preliminaries on Saturday February 3rd. If you want to roll with us, as in watch or perform, please get you words together, get your skills sharpened up again, and let get'em. Come on, we sent Maurico last year. How's about sending at least two of the fam this year. Jesica and Taylor (maybe) are already signed up...Miguel, Wayne, Carissma, Omar - ya'll game?

Come on, what have you got to lose except an afternoon?

Jan 20, 2007


when is the slam?
is it the thursday comin up right now?
The 25th?
plz tell me!
if it is ill be there i got regents week off!
and wat time is it? and is there tech class after?

Jan 19, 2007

The title...

Issaka, sorry to send such a short message, but I need the title of the book I gave you last year. Remember? I think it has a "journey," or "soul" or something in it, but I can't remember, and i need it for another student who could use some self reflection. Post me back please.

How's school going btw? Trying out for any slams anywhere?

Jan 17, 2007

Munchies (the poem I'M use for the slam)

Got the munchies for this luv of music
want my love to massage my ear drums
until it causes them to bleed a
red water fall of pain and pleasure
but since the music stop playing
all I have to satisfy me
is the loyalty of my friends
and their truthful words,
to fill me up
when my cup is a lil empty.
Take my wallet and give my enemies my 2 cents
cause yes-
I'm open minded
even if you do not like it
I don't care
I'm the type of child with
Thee diverse personality
I call unique
some call me a psycho.
Forever and a day
shall I remain insane
got my back to the wall screaming
I don't want my words to die yet
I'm to poetic not to be heard
as my friends say
"who really listens to a 13 year old girl?"
I tell them I do and I think you should too
so they reply "iight well that's nice for you"
then I come back like Mase did
saying well face it
I'M truthful
even if it hurts.
truth is I got the munchies for some true friends
cuz I only have a few and that's nto including you.
Gotta make some changes in my life
seems things ain't going right
but I would never ever pick up a knife!
Instead I will pick up my sword-my pencil
and slay thee mightier warrior-my parents
I'm not conceited and
I'm really not that confident
even though
I got the brains,
got the talent,
I'm be honest
I got it all...But the effort!
My parents would lynch me
if they saw my 2nd making period grades
though I don't know why because they're always the same
I'm hungry for some brains
See I'm to busy trying to buy them new Nikes
cuz maybe then
the new boy might like me
but it's so remarkable how
on some days I'm willing to spend $100 on sneakers
yet wouldn't give over $50 to the homeless-
I think so
but I can't let no one know
cuz then they'll make me hug myself all day.
So instead I stay unspoken
the child with such a loud voice...
saying nothing, unheard, yet her understands.
The one in the corner all alone
cuz she feels betrayal
from her fellow blacks
that lack
common sense
really need to realize
nigga was a word once used for blacks
while blacks had the hunger like me to be free
only leaving their footprints in history
we ran back towards it.
Hold on one more time
munchies for some kindness
maybe a fantasy of a dream
and a dream of a fantasy,
but soon the fantasy is ruined
death is brought among it
next thing I know
I gotta put on a show
cuz no it wasn't just suicide!
but they don't know
I memorized these fake lines
filling bull into their ears wondering do they really hear
hear how he was so careful
in they way he slowly killed my hopes and dreams
and how I watched him do it.
OK so it is his fault or should I say
my fault?
cuz my lover couldn't have me
so he crushed my dreams with his words
and melted my heart with his eyes.
I got the munchies to snitch
but now that the deed is done
I still feel that I have not won.
Up it's them munchies again!
Got the munchies to being devoted this year
I seem to be doing good...
I started five minutes ago.
I also got a plan to get lost in dreaming about tomorrow
and tomorrow dream about today
and then when the day after tomorrow comes
I'll think about what happened yesterday.
Alright, check this...
On Martin Luther King Day our guest speaker was Ise Lyfe!!! A fu**ing Def Jam Youth Speaks Slam Poet!!!!
U do not know how happy i was!!! It has just beeen such a while since i'd seen some spoken workd being said u know...dude was killing it though...
Yo Craig, make sure u tell us how the team does this year, and make sure they try out for the Urban Word team too, it'll do them some good u know....just keep in touch.

*edited for language...

Jan 12, 2007

Jesica's Video

Hey, we need feedback...What can she do? How is it so far? You know we can't leave it up for too long, so help soon please...! You guys left the team in excellent hands!

(Video Removed...Slam is coming soon, can't give away too much!)

Thanks for all of your helpful suggestions; we're working on them!!!

Jan 9, 2007

That just proves I watched my Barney before and after pre school .

So what I write about suicide and irrational lies
That doesn’t mean I’m stuck in a dark place of solitude
That just proves I watched Barney before and after pre school .
But u know what the real messed up thing is
no one ever told me that what I wrote bothered them
To much imagery to specific for ya ?
didn’t think I could write this way unless I did these things ?
But I bet cha George Orwell never heard a pig talk
Does that make him crazy ?
I mean he did write animal farm.
13 and my writing is to power full for your mind to comprehend
So u tell my mother I’m a little messed up in my head
So now before she lays down in her bed she ask if any thing wrong
fighting to stay up after me
cuz she fears the site she might see if my hands got on that big knife while she’s asleep
Worst part of all I’m stuck asking myself if I really do need help
All because I was put in a position that almost cut me off from all the sanity left in me
Stuck asking myself if ill end up like the hurt and pained people in my poetry.
And then elders call my generation sex crazed and selfish or my favorite
“sit on yaw little asses complain and don’t do a thing about it.”
But look what happens when I try to give u my perspective of some lost adolescents
U automatically lose site of my message and secretly think I’m asking for help when really
All I’m saying is that I know help is needed.
My teacher wanted this powerful writing but maybe she never accepted this out of me
that only means she underestimated me .
And when I underestimate myself u say I’m crazy because “ I’m capable of accomplishing any thing”
See u make no sense to me and when I say “u”
U know who I’m referring to.
Those pretended to be I’m just the best person I can be and I only try to see the best in the people that surround me.
Can u believe they want me to write about bunnies and rainbows
Hey u know what let me try
Here goes
Suzy got a rabbit today
And she played and played
Until the rain went away.
Hey wake up see what I mean u never want to here these things
At lest not from me .
See all I want is for people not to question my creativity and mix it up with insanity
Because I write about suicide and irritation lies
Cuz all that proves is that I watched Barney before and after pre school.

Jan 6, 2007

to the man that i'm forced to call dad

Family rejected and wife neglected children pardoned
But not loved willingly, by me
Mind sate of “every ones out to get me.”
When really you got every one first
But now your tricks have reached the surface of recognition
So your stuck in a position unfamiliar to u
So now your words make no sense
And your irrational lies fly over my brothers heads . And u use there naive youth to get pleaser of their shaded tears and that’s 1 of the many reasons I hate u
At age 8 I was so stuck on u
my every thing
I idealized u
or who I believed u were.
U brought her home
and feed this teen a unforgivable sin
And I opened the door for her
An unfamiliar face rung my bell asking for u .
And when I saw her I couldn’t help but say in my mind I want to grow up to be the refection of her beauty.
But then u told me to close the door
and I said good bye .
U got on the phone and your fingers only dialed three numbers
and u spoke in Spanish to hide a secret from me and the rest of my family .
But little did u know I understood your tongue
and I constantly told my self the words realest form your mouth weren’t true.
But when mommy took me jive and geo,
Lying to myself became harder to do .
Discus was written all over my mothers face
as she took us to a place I would never want to visit.
And when she told me the truth I pretended to be hurt
because emotionally I was not strong enough to Handel it.
And I cried
And cried my self to sleep
Woke up the next morning and no longer could I tell myself it wasn’t true
And when mommy told me
u knew
I knew
U came to me and asked if I forgave u .
and I did not look into your eyes
and I lied .
And every night since then became a chance for me to blame this unfortunate chain of events on some one other than u .
And that became me .
Lost as I was then
I still am now and every time I look in the mirror I see u .
stuck heating my last name I tell myself that this image in my reflection isn’t me
and now I don’t even know if I’m lying to myself
And I’m to ashamed to ask for help because I want to be strong enough for me.
so I started to cut and bleed the pain away , but that only brought the
out of me even more because u always ran to the bar just like I ran to that knife.
And life now leaves me waiting for that day when
Death knocks on my door because then and only then will I able to rest in peace .

Jan 2, 2007

Casino Life(Bad Luck)

You will not understand this in-depth poem if you do not understand the basics of gambling and the different terms that I've used to be a metaphor
This poem should be taken both literally and figuratively .........

How is it that I’m dealt 21 but still losing my bets?
I call life a pain because that’s all I get
But I’m still a player in this game, I still appeal to all the tables
Playing it safe label me fragile because I crack under pressure
Rest assure I’ll be stable if I could get head straight
I ain’t steered right so my mind it’s looking at my coming fate
But I still rolled with the snakes
I’ve played a whole bunch of Craps but none like this venom
And I’m done, throw in the towel and cash out
Because I played for a while and I see this luck isn’t with me
I had the last straw with 5 card draw
Betting no bluffing I guess that’s why I lost
This damage cost me my precious money I tried to be a Shark but it didn’t work for me
I’m not vicious; I’m subtle so I tried the slot machine
Not only did I lose it ate some money
I went around the place and the same outcome occurred
The outlier, airliner tickets an outrage the price is absurd
So I might as well just leave this discriminated place hated by most
We infuriated our mother and our father which we was created
Made it this far with this much I can’t say I hate this
But hatred is a word I use when we are checked
Mates creates us to do crazy things like gamble away
Pockets would be empty which was once filled today
I will take no chances any more
The same chances that gave me this curse
Same probability if I continue this situation would get worse
Same odds as when our two races are bided on
Its (8-29) black column, spin the roulette and find hope
Same hope people coped with in Katrina
See the things I have to look forward to would you believe the luck this mother gave me
Nothing can save me from the destiny
This dynasty has claimed 1 more Fortune
But this life is not mine I can not continue to lie
This casino is my home but this dynasty would soon be dead
We pollute our floors and money is pouring, corrupt managers
Bankrupt customers so thank god I don’t live this way
I live in New York, but Pennsylvania today
We don’t do this we just have our need
I hate the casino life it’s filled with greed
Then I guess the casino life is not for me
Because I live in “Utopia” called Earth we’re angels we’d never destroy our destiny……..