deepundergroundpoetry.com

Push Pen To Paper


 
What else can we do eh?      
...as writers poets rappers      
Or whatever..      
But just keep pushin pen to paper      
And maybe a breakthrough will come in      
Like a wreckin ball      
Blessin us all with total recall      
And shit...that's all I can hope for      
Speakin for myself as I write and write      
With this fuckin sense of urgency      
Like my Soul's in a constant state of emergency...      
       
I must merge..you see...      
       
Into that purified state of being      
Purge my pen      
Until my seven chakras are healed      
From root to crown      
And reveal what lies behind the veil      
Beyond these ordinary senses of mine      
Disambiguation of the divine      
Would be so sublime      
I'm sure      
But what's the cause      
What's the cure      
For a man contaminated with doubt      
And claustrophobia laminated like a second skin      
Shadowing my movements at times      
As I walk around in total disgust      
Its so hard to discuss      
All these emotions I distrust      
Got me goin from agitated      
To aggravated      
To just flat out exasperated from      
Debating and berating myself      
Incessantly inside my brain      
Among a throng of faceless voices      
And random musings falling like acid rain      
Piercing my grey matter      
Like tiny daggers with jagged edges      
Maaaan....      
I'm just tryin to know where the ledge is      
Without ending up in some murky abyss      
Then sometimes I think maybe a kiss      
From the frigid lips of Death      
Will grant me a wish such as this      
And restore that which is sorely amiss      
       
But the Reaper has yet to summon me      
       
So I stab and stab and stab      
My pen to this pad      
Like a maniac locked in a padded room      
My anxiety blooms      
As I groom myself for Armageddon      
With raccoon eyes reddened      
From too many sleepless nights      
Wondering what it was like      
Being delivered from      
Omniscience into ignorance      
In one act of birth      
Pulled into this earth      
With an obscene dearth of memory      
I probably laughed until I cried      
As they cut my umbilical cord      
And severed my accord      
With the lord of entropy      
Now enter a man      
Born with no state of mind      
Blind to the ways of mankind      
As defined by Melle Mel the prophet      
Preachin the Gospel not-for-profit      
Ever so beautifully      
Or was it my moms who dutifully      
Gave me that Colt 45 malt liquor      
To quiet my riot at night      
Because as she put it...      
I was one cryin ass 'lil ni@@a      
Ha...go figure...but like Jigga...      
       
Today I make the pen cry      
       
And as I push and push this bitch      
More episodes drip through its tip      
From an infant on up I remember      
Being distant from most of my fam      
Not sure if they ever gave a damn      
What I felt or thought about anything      
Wasn't taught about many things either      
Thus my mind wandered and pondered      
Endlessly...aimlessly      
Scavenging for bits and pieces of inspiration      
Couldn't really vibe with the information      
Steadily spoon fed in schools      
Our mongoloid negroid caucasoid origins      
Spoken as the rule but I was      
One of the chosen few exceptions      
To escape the mass inception of a humanity      
Coaxed into this elaborate hoax      
A latent blasphemer      
But I don't claim to have the answers      
Just an honest inquisitor      
Maybe I 'm a visitor from parsecs away      
Left behind by the pre-ancients      
To observe and catalogue      
This digitized world even though      
My receptors are analogue      
Resistant to the constant ramming      
Of the local programming      
And the jamming of beta rays into the sky      
Now our better days are behind us      
So sez these talkin heads      
And their faithful sycophants      
Expectin me to sympathize      
With their synthesized thoughts      
And polyester dreams       
Manifestin as the most idiotic ideologies      
My apologies to all those      
I've faked the funk with in the past      
Now I've taken myself to task      
Taken off the mask      
       
And here I am..      
       
The ever aspiring Elephant Man      
Hopin to be more relevant than      
My previous incarnations      
Maybe the exhumation      
And examination of [my] bones      
From these cemetery-pages      
Will better explain this glorified bird cage      
And assuage this lone gravedigger       
That is I as I have decided to      
Set aside those liquefied spirits of gin      
And its accompanying djinni      
For I am beginnin a new dedication      
To self medication...      
A different form of meditation      
I suppose...as I propose through      
A stanza a prose a paragraph      
Or whatever...      
To just keep pushin and pushin this pen      
And maybe...just maybe      
Outta the darkness of this Black Ink      
Some true Light will finally be      
Shed upon me
Written by Naajir
Published | Edited 13th Jan 2019
Author's Note
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