I've come a long way
down histories of verbal avenues, adjective on every corner like beacons telling me where to go
Seems like I was covered in the grace
from the day I was conceived
Absorbing inspirations from atmospheres inside the outside of my womb world
The road into this world was paved
by the loving blessings of Nikki Giovanni
Later to be guided by Yusef Komunyakaa
that Boogalusa, Louisiana gentleman who told us
the Revolution was coming to a theatre near you
Piercing the skin of Maya Angelou
page by page, listening to a story
of a hard earned glory
I now present myself to you,
a Poet's Production
created by the love of the Harlem Renaissance
with millions of jazz notes flowing through my veins
So bad that the verbals fall from my fingertips
like love falls from the lips of the young and enthusiastic
Not the silent type
I got a lot to say and to share, with you...
Now the hop-
is the non-stop
rhythms that construct what I do
I'm feeling walks in solitude on starry nights, studded skies
chatting with Tupac Shakur's "In the Event of My Demise"
thinking of ways to encourage those whom I love to fly
Burying myself in the scene
following the path of my individuality
This is what I need
a way to show masses some love, from me
There's so much going on
and I'm wondering if we're all sufferin' from sumthin'
I'd like to call 20/20 syndrome
Thinkin' whatever seems real is real, cause it looks real
when real has no real definition so indeed it seems to be defined as
what we feel is real, for real can be real deceiving
Am I really breathing
parts of my thought and self into you
Or am I fooling you
simply leaving, neverbreathing
only pure emptiness
Enough of the non-stop hop
let's place them gemini-style together
and call it hip-hop
when my non-stop
rhythm
becomes tick-tock
the life clock ceases to beat
and set to repeat
Thus generations are created
and what is outdated
becomes re-loved and re-rated
With only history books to remind us "who" came first
and causes us to place Y2K bets on who'll be last.