Black Poetry : could be killed

THA HOOKUPMAN

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Mar 4, 2004
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FRRE THINKER
:flamet: :flamet: hold her naked body firmly in my hand…………
And I….close my eyes tightly…and ahhh..
Slowly bring her hole closer to my lips
…….and I …I and…and I …and I and I
Could be killed for what am thinking
Its beyond …….human experience
Could be killed for what am thinking
Drinking poison in my dreams
It seems that am moving past my past
Elementary school days past k to the 12th grade
Where every body knew that boogie down productions
Would always get paid
In full like Rakim
At least until black radio forgot him
The great rock bottom fell 12 levels below Sodom
Sold out
Now all the white national radio conglomerates
Got them
strung out
Like my old high school friend
Who uses to wear 3 different leather suits a day
And push the dime pieces in the jet black Benz
At least until he saw half his life end
Getting shot down on the roof of the projects
Now he just shoots up
on the roof of the projects

an yet even he has a longer life expectancy than me
Cause
I could be killed for what am thinking

I let her hole sit firmly on my tongue
And am just dieing for her to cum
I want her whole nine to just ejaculate straight thru my mind
I want her to cum so hard that she blows off my headpiece
So that I might finally have peace in my head, but
Instead I hear a million ancestors yell that
I have no right ta
Have no
Life
they tell me I am
Exzackly what comes after the ones that survived the middle passage
They tell me im directly descendent from the ones who thought it was
Punk shyit to
jump ship
The ones who mastered their masters
Those angels those gods that worked hellishly hard
From can’t see to can’t sea on the plantations
Slaving for the very same Satan that they created
They graphed their own masters

And every nite
Every nite a trillion bodies
Blacker than cooked soot on the bottom of a crack pipe
In a dark corner of the basement of a crack house
When the moon signals midnight
Sing to me

They sing that im the ungrateful realization of there dreams
They sing that im their social technologically spoil offspring
They sing since it took four hundred years of misery to bring me here
My suicide is not a acceptable offering

tHey sing I was
expressly put on this planet to speak dynamite to granite
That I was intended to spit tears into microphones
So that billions of disenfranchised black children might find their way back home
And I
Cry an I cry
Cause I
Im ashamed that
I could be killed for what im thinking
And I want her to cum so bad but I mange
I want her to
Cum
So bad but I mange
but I mange to pull the gun off of my tongue
turn my thoughts inadvisability in the direction
of black youth
and behold!!
Ejaculating out of my throat

Is the truth
 
Baby...OMG

...OMG *clutching my heart* :crying:

Where do I begin...with a work this powerful, in danger of being percieved
as just another poem...or flow

This is what happens when a gifted writer gets real...

The metaphor of the gun...being a woman, GENIUS
kept me clinging to each stanza, wondering what the correlation was

Until...the ending...revealed the truth

Suicide...
is not our individual right and yes, our ancestors fought and were
killed so that we might have the right...not be slaughtered like cattle
or hung from trees like ornaments...in flames.

Life is never over...just because careers end, there's more to know
and deeper levels to go...if we only listen to the voices that speak...
and pump through our own blood, despite what our society teaches us

Bravo Baby...this was an Immaculately Conceived Poem of Extraodinary Power
that takes the soul on a journey aching to reach home...

Stunning...absolutely Stunning :crying: :cry: :heart:
 
Kid, you got wicked wit it!



“Pac’s Words of Wisdom”

Check it

Killing us one by one
In one way or another
American will find a way to eliminate the problem
One by one
The problem is
the troubles in the black youth of the ghettos
And one by one
we are being wiped off the face of this earth
At an extremely alarming rate


Fight and die if we must


I’d spin it “n” flip it after checkin this joint out

“Fight and die if we must, but I’m living because ain’t nobody gonna make me take my own life, I’ll die fighting, if I must but I’m still gone pull my brothers out the ghetto”



Black men
The real endangered species
 

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