Thursday, April 27, 2017

It was written...

The verses in my songs, as poetic as they are, are essays.
Introduction, body, conclusion.
I don't want to dive too deep into my hooks.
Yes there's a formula, but I tend to just go with the flow.

Life is like one big Charles Hamilton chorus/hook/bridge.

I used to think life was a Dilla beat.
Or a Dre mix.

There are so many reasons to love.
Why am I so full of self-hate?


Because everyone wants to dethrone, since they're not in a position of authority.

Or am I being racist to Harlem?

In case you haven't noticed, these blog entries are poems.
As much real talk as there is in them, they are written in poetry form.
I love spoken word.

So much, I might try to enter the arena.
After hip-hop.
Hip-hop doesn't need me.
Music does.
Not hip-hop.

I miss the piano.
I love the piano.
I want to... matter fact?
That's what I might do this weekend.
I'm gonna find a piano and zone out.

Maybe then I can make sense of my poetry.

Music is magick.
Don't ever let them say it ain't so.

~follow the buzzards~

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