*SIGHS*


Manifesting poetic expressions,
From poetic depression
Painful blues,
To
Colorful, visual hues

Intoxicated off a broken heart, Malcolm’s rage
and a smooth Langston Hughes

I'm the encrypted words to Mile's jazz tunes

The Fahrenheit to Love's aroma
Obsession perfume
I assume

*stop and breathe for a second*

"now resume"





j*BB%r!sh tends
To leak from my pen
When
There is not a single word to express my feelings

No bat cave
No red phone in the glass case
Only a star distant from astronomy
Praying to God
Because Grey's anatomy couldn't give me healings



*stop and breathe.....you losing them kid*

"get back to your dealings"

is this poetry?
or
po-e-trying to be a poet?

Verbally, venting
Frequently, fucking
Lustful, literature like
a
hoet?


*shrugs*

Regardless of what you consider it
It sure feel's good getting it
Out my system


Lyrically disturbing grooves
On sleepers like
The system

I transfer my many moods
On many moons
Then back track to make sure I didn’t miss them

I guess that’s my way of acknowledging self

On dry days and parched nights
My random thoughts includes wet dreams
Of money pouring in
Benjamin’s
To spend…
Until my homie Benjamin’s thought provoking pieces make my head spin

Priceless words in the form of poems that acknowledge ghetto wealth

My creativity comes with ease
There are times I feel I can’t be fucked with
But I hold back my words…..becoming quite a lyrical tease

*stop for a second…just breathe*

Basically blending beautiful
Blame it on being blessed

OOPS!

I’m running off at the pen again
My discipline needs more stamina and stealth






Soviet Connection (The Theme from Grand Theft Auto IV) - Michael Hunter