Black Poetry : gospel of industrialization.

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by THA HOOKUPMAN, Apr 7, 2005.

  1. THA HOOKUPMAN

    THA HOOKUPMAN Banned MEMBER

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    :shutup: :bazooka:
    i want to right wrongs.
    i want to write psalms
    in the faithful script of david,
    that read as songs to the unforgiven.
    listen.


    i was an industrialized day dream.
    a stone rose in the concrete,
    red hair the petals at my mother’s feet,
    i was baptised in her blood.
    reluctant to be touched,
    my thorns gave a **** about intentions,
    unfeeling and deliberate.
    there is a definitive strategy to picking a rose,
    either she didn’t care or didn’t know,
    and everyday I was reminded of her sacrifice.
    just blood loss,
    no love lost.
    listen.


    i stepped outside to blacken my lungs.
    get wet outside, they’re clapping for funds.
    my steady walk stopped,
    i couldn’t move,
    too caught up in the breaks and ch-ch-chops,
    the snakes and the cops
    ravenously they watch
    my head nod to the street’s symphony.
    solemn and divine.
    no longer confined.
    i walk a block that was church to dead gods,
    and listen to the city breathing.
    the clouds were moving as fast as i was thinking.

    the moon was playing hide and seek.
    tonite i wouldn’t play,
    i dreamed of sleep.
    i want to be comfortable, again.
    my significance muted by the quiet,
    its finite grace i took for granted,
    unassuming commandments.
    silence written in granite.
    was it my own scribble or sanskrit?
    i don't think i'll ever know.
    the skyline's lights reflect in my eyes,
    this jungle has lost its pigment for the last time.
    we stood together,
    green-less and one.
    it was the disconnect that bound it to me-
    my manufactured garden of eden.
    the sirens are singing,
    harmonizing and screaming,
    american pipe dreaming...

    i smoked myself sober.
    i drank myself back to order.
    secular ways birthed an innocence
    foreign to these parts.
    i stood naked and unassuming.
    the bill boards brought me back here.
    here; bound, gagged, and barefoot
    in front of a jury of my peers.
    here; the climax of nineteen years.
    the fashion police had a case i couldn’t shake.
    they had all but dragged the lake,
    there is no escape.
    there is... here.
    i was sentenced with zeal,
    to crucifixion on the cross of mass appeal.
    real recognize real.
    overstatement of the century.
    it shouldn't be this cold in hell.
    designer labels try
    to hide inherited scars.
    my ensemble less a puzzle, more a ransom note.
    and i quote:
    “we have what you need if you have what we want.”
    cut and paste letters a fitting font.
    i... forgot of eden...
    i... am sitting shotgun in a stolen car.

    its cold.
    i reach for the heat,
    looking across from me
    to the drivers seat,
    we speak...
    of destiny.
    she's rocking rings around eyes and fingers.
    the gaudy jewelry of lovers past still lingers,
    deliberate and cheap.
    running on empty, we nod to the beat.
    that's it.
    we are finished.
    fate’s limericksundefined
    spin a dirty web,
    in which we’re caught.
    a street lamp's dirty halo
    sheds enough light on the situation,
    we're ******.
    it's blasphemous that
    we even associate with false martyrs.

    the gospel of industrialization.
     
  2. AHMOSE

    AHMOSE Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    You write with a style much like my own. I enjoyed reading this piece thank you for sharing poet. Keep it coming.
     
  3. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    very smoothly done and tyte joint here
    keep the ink flowing
     
  4. 1poetsought

    1poetsought Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    This ride was worth all of the drama.

    I love it when THA HOOKUPMAN Slams! :hockey:
     
  5. Khasm13

    Khasm13 STAFF STAFF

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    my manufactured garden of eden.
    the sirens are singing,
    harmonizing and screaming,
    american pipe dreaming...


    on point poet...i dig what your sayin

    one love
    khasm
     
  6. PositiveMindset

    PositiveMindset Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Undeniably a fine work of art.

    Thank U 4 putting this piece on display.

    Peace.
     
  7. watzinaname

    watzinaname Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    The structures which have been built to sustain some, are killing others, by design. Nice to read you again poet.
     
  8. triniti424

    triniti424 Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    now dat was what i am talkin bout :D

    welcome back brotha poet :read:
     
  9. HODEE

    HODEE Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Great flow.

    The gospel of industrialization. In this Bull and Bear nation. Built by WT this imperial kingdom nation can’t convince me things are ok. There is a desire to strangle my kind. If you don’t want to choke and die from the smoke. Swallow what Tha HookupMan wrote.
     
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