Drowning

Waves upon waves keep me down,
and I cant get to the top,
but when I get there ill still be nowhere,
cause i cant find the one i love,
and if i make it out,
then we should talk about,
how you left me,
just how you left me,

drowning again,
drowning again,
drowning again,
you should come see how would it would be,
to come drown with me.

days upon days Ive been floating,
and you don't care if i die tonight,
but when I'm deceased i hope you will be,
dying next to me and my boat of regret,
and before we go i want my baby to know,
how it would it is to be,


drowning again,
drowning again,
drowning again,
you should come see how would it would be.

Lost Within A Person

You love people less than they deserve,
You hate people before they've even earned it,
You tie yourself in knots over nothing,
And nothing makes sense even after you've learned it.
So you die inside and hide your meaning,
Where you are always and will forever be returning-
To shame.
You live your life always in the dark,
Always looking for someone to rip out your heart,
Searching for a way to get everything,
But everything can't hold your broken pieces apart.
No everything isn't nothing as it may seem,
You have to live knowing you'll always be returning-
To shame.

9/11 and Death Of Art

We just had the tenth anniversary of September 11 (2001). I really didn’t want to touch up on this event because most of the internet is already running it into the ground. I realize though, there’s a lot of kids around the age of 14,15,etc..  who we’re just little ass kids when this happened and basically they really don’t remember a time when 9/11 happened or events before it, so enough about that.

 

 

Around the time of 9/11 though, there was a big debate on sensationalism and how music and movies are making kids get the wrong input on things or make them do things that the society deems unjustifiable; instead they should be more focused on the “art” of todays’ economics. Ask yourself this, a kid in today’s society who doesn’t watch tv or listen to music but plays video games all day deems that video game as an “art”, or when a singer justifies her or his music as a art? For example “Lady Gaga” dresses in undergarments half the time though some of the public media says that’s art when others juxtapose it to non-sense.

 

Point being is that no one is neither right nor wrong about who is doing what in todays world nor do we the people care about what is getting done about it. No man has more or less power or another and that’s the cruel facts we need to get over and stop arguing. 

Clockwork

That Mr. Bob looked all over town,
But he won't find me now for I'm off coastward bound.
And I'm trading the smog for some fresh salt sea air
And he'll never catch on that I'm there.

I was once his apprentice, in the clock-making trade,
And the miser made me work for every penny of my wage.
Till he found he could replace me with a machine,
And he threw me right out on the street.

I'm not the type who would grovel and pray
That he deign to recant and permit to stay,
So I cursed him and left and I solemnly swore that he'd pay.

Now Mr. Bob has very poor eyes,
And he never did see me when he left work at night.
And once in a while he would forget to check
That his workshop back window was closed.

No I'm not a burglar and I'm no vandal nor.
The old man had to suffer, but I wanted something more:
I wanted him to feel it and know it was me,
And I knew that his clocks were the key.

I sat in his workshop, my thoughts running wild,
Then it suddenly hit me, and I looked up and I smiled
For I knew that I'd have him and I knew that I'd do it in style.

I tell you that clockwork's a powerful thing;
There's a terrible strength in those tightly wound springs.
And a gentleman's pocket watch stays by his heart,
And that's where the damage can start.

Now I'm no machine but I can work when I choose,
With hands good as any when I've something to prove.
So I stayed up all night among cogs, springs and screws,
And I didn't stop till I was through.

I rigged up a watch to do more than just chime ,
And I didn't baulk once at the depth of my crime -
A most perfect invention that still kept immaculate time.

The next week a young man stopped by in the shop,
Took a shine to a timepiece and paid on the spot.
He wound it, and wore it, and at 6 on the dot
He came to a messy and permanent stop.

Now Mr. Bob's got blood on his hands,
And he barely made bail, he's a ruined man,
And surely he knows who his downfall was planned by,

It's all worked out like clockwork.

Lost Without Hope

Saturday  the thirtieth of July, the patients’ passing seizures are becoming more pronounced by the day; the under-lying cause, seems to be a slow and progressive decay.; if I don’t find a cure, I fear that my patient must surely fade away, but I swear, I’ll apply my science. It’s for the cause, breaking no defiance. I’ll deliver her, from this melody, she’ll dance again, and I’ll never forget, when our first recording, and she faced me, and her eyes were gleaming, in the moonlight, and she spoke so sweetly “Don’t let me go my darling, hold me safely till the morning. Promise when the lights are fading. You’ll save me.”.

 

Sunday, the thirty-first of July,  her worrying symptom has reared it’s  head week. She’s been bed-bound for a month, and now the patient is no longer able to speak. She tries to utter sounds, but the grip of the illness is strong and the patient is weak. On the bed, in a cold sweat, like a corpse, but she’ll live yet; when I find the cure; I can surely promise; she’ll laugh again, like she did; on our wedding day; when we danced, and laughed the night away, and now I can hear her say “ Don’t let me go my darling, hold me safely till the morning, promise when the lights are fading, you’ll save me”

 

Monday, the first of August, the patient no longer response to stimuli of any kind. She’s now my only charge. I cloth her and feed her, and nightly I read by her side. For though she’s paralyzed. I know that inside there still is a functioning mind. Neatly laid, on the bed-sheet, I can still hear her fading heartbeat, I’ll keep her stable,  and continue my research; she’ll smile again, and I must, bring her back to me, in her eyes I can see the gleam. In my mind I can hear her breathing.

 

Tuesday, the second of August, my latest apparatus is the only thing keeping her alive. I had to stop her heart, the mechanical replacement will ensure the other organs can survive. Her body is destroyed, but what nature has neglected the fruit of modern science shall provide, and I’ve broken every code of practice, but for my love, I’d shift the planets’ axis; she’ll return to me, when she’s been repaired, she’ll live again, and I swear, I can see the gleam, in her eyes,  amidst the new machines, and at night, I can hear her whisper “Don’t let me go my darling, hold me safely till the morning, promise when the lights are fading, you’ll save me”

Many people want to pray for my downfall, isn't nothing but hate around you all, and isn't nothing but success around me.

Hustle

I close the window to soul,
I can see my death coming.
Praying for peace with my lord,
Left but you nothing.


I've been, swallowed by misery,
I keep no friends and no enemies,
A solider for eternity,
This is for my niggas on the corner-
with the heart to ride,
Getting high watching time fly,
You never die with a smile,
guns burst,
I never die cause of verses and rhymes,
But in my dreams I see visions of me facing death,
never scared,
I'm prepared,
Keep a bullet to my left.
Mommy in your wisdom I need you,
can't understand this,
Seems people speaking gibberish,
Every day a nigga wants to beef me.
I'm changing rules but baffled by the moves when they see me,
But first got to learn to take it easy.
This is for my niggas that arrive,
As a child of the night,
Dark shades underage in a gun fight.
Blow your trees,
Walk with me,
Getting money as this city is ours,
Drug dealers screaming Fuck the Lord,
I just want to spread word,
To lost souls, as my own,
In a place a called home and the rest of the globe.

Swallowed by misery,
See me sitting where the river be,
Trying to heal spiritually.
I see my Grandmothers' ghost when I look in the sky,
My smile creates sunshine.
My conscious eyes tired of seeing these shadow living people,
Life is worth more than money, houses and vehicles.
Some sit in traffic on the way home,
others are trafficking coke.

True Freedom

Set me free, or
leave me to be.
why must everyone,
look up to me?
I'm high in demand,
I hardly think so,
I don't understand?
this wont make me happy,
a life so bland and dull.
leave me alone,
let me find my home.
Turn my heart to stone?
Just go away,
give me just one day.
you make me feel trapped,
held under wraps and misery.
so I'm begging you now,
can I have myself back?
give me a break,
its' my life you take.
My smiles are fake,
I'm lying to you,
I cannot pull through.
I should stop this madness,
and stop it soon.
why cant you see,
i need to be free?
Can you not see?
your driving me mad,
making me scream.
so now end my strife and misery,
or I'll take this knife,
and with my own hands,I'll end my life.

A HUNTED BOY IN YUKON-TOWN

A HUNTED BOY IN YUKON-TOWN

Story written by

Stacy Ann

It was an evening in March. The wind was blowing clouds of dust across Yukon-town. As I stood in the doorway looking at the lonely road. I saw a boy. He was about 19-20 years old. I turned to call my dad, but the words died on my lips. I then quickly walked out of the house and went to the boy. He was covered with blood and seemed very tired.'' hide me please'', he said. The boy did not look like a criminal, so I wasn't afraid of him. ''Follow me.'' I said quietly.

I led him upstairs to my bed room opened the door, and pointed to a wardrobe. '' Go and hide in that wardrobe,'' I said. The boy thanked me and try to explain. I want to tell you what had happened,'' he said. '' A boy hit his girlfriend.... I fought him and--- I quickly shut my bedroom door. And went quietly into the kitchen. My dad was making dinner, so he knew nothing about the boy in my room. About 10-15 minutes later the doorbell rang. My dad then ran to the door and I followed him. It was two policemen. ''Have you seen anyone go along this road? ''the policemen asked. ''no,'' said my dad in a voice of surprise. ''why'' what happened?'' one of the policeman then answered. There was a fight in a night -club last night.'' A boy attacked his friend with a knife, and escaped. We hunted him to Yukon-town, but we lost him.'' So please give us a call if you see him, said the police man. The policemen then said 'good-bye, and drove off. As we got inside my dad said '' I'm going for a walk I'll be back later. I then ran back upstairs to my room. The hunted boy came out of the shower. He was now only wearing his boxers. He smiled at me and then said. I'm now cleaner and fresher.'' I looked at him and smiled he was tall, strong and extremely handsome. He also had very beautiful brown eyes. He seemed to me the man of my dreams. We then sat on the bed and started talking freely. I asked for his name, and he called his name to me, I then said'' Nice to meet you Josh Nickson.'' I'm Marthailyn. He smiled and said.'' Pretty name. I thanked him. And also told him about the policemen. ''I can't leave until they go,'' He said. ''Can I sleep here tonight?'' I nodded. He then said, '' can you please get me some food? I'm starving. I ran back downstairs and got Josh some food and a bottle of orange juice, and also some of my dad's clothes. I then ran back upstairs and gave the things to him. I'll come back later,'' I promised and then ran back downstairs.

After 20 minutes later I went back upstairs. ''I thought you would never come!' Said Josh Nickson with a smile. He pulled me down on the bed, and soon our lips met in a kiss. We then started kissing, and making out. It felt great to be wanted, and I cherished every second we were together. Josh Nickson and I were now lying in bed talking. Suddenly I heard ''Marthailyn! where are you?'' It was my dad's voice. I looked at Josh and put my finger to my lips. I then got up and answered in a cool voice,' in here dad! I'm just cleaning my room. ''I see, he said. I then shut the door and quickly went downstairs into the kitchen to my dad I then decided to tell him about Josh Nickson. I also repeated the story he told me. My dad seemed neither surprised nor angry. He then decided to meet Josh, but as we got inside the room a fearful sight met our eyes. Furniture was destroyed. And a knife, covered with blood was lying next to Josh. Josh Nickson had committed suicide.

I was shocked and also speechless. Why would Josh Nickson commit suicide? It was very strange. But I didn't think about it too much. As my dad got closer to Josh he noticed a white paper lying on the bed. It was a letter written by Josh before his death. The letter says: ''Dear miss Marthailyn, I want to thank you for everything you've done for me, and I also want you to know that I appreciate you. You're a phenomenal person. But there's also something else I want you to know. The thing that happened in the night-club was my fault. I killed my best friend Ryan Johnson. I didn't mean you any harm, but I knew that I was going to face the consequences somehow, that's why I decided to commit suicide''. It was very sad and difficult for me to believe that Josh was dead, because he was extremely handsome, charming and intelligent. Not to mention, he was in absolute perfect physical condition. And because he meant so much to me. I lived with an emptiness and thought that I would never be able to love anyone until I met Mr. Incredible, Josh Nickson.

Cold

In the stone wall
Seed of love lies
Only pain needs for birth.

Fed Up

Could it be all a dream

Like people say it be?

Tired of hearing non-sense

or is it my conscious playing tricks on me?

I’m fed up

I’m on top

Which you can't take that away from me .

They don’t give me the love I need

I'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Just like a glass

Transparent I can't hide my  pain.

 

My life

Everywhere That I Turn
Troubles right behind me
The struggle is inside me
Yeah I fighting for peace
Throw your middle finger up
to the beast and tell em come and find me
I might be giving a speech
Or marching a million men
When they snipe me
The sun still rise in east
And as long as we are alive
I can keep giving
God willing,
Burn sinners,
Open eyes of children
Look at what we billing
From the bottom up
This Sh*t started watching
Donald Duck
Now they want to snip I on the run
But we still write live rhyme
We finding fun
Tell me you the righteous one
Grab a piece of cheese and bun
Bun a piece of weed
In the breeze and sun
Grab scud and light it up,
Come blud get high with us
So many die and get committed to dust
This is as real as it comes
There's no love
In the Heart of the slums
Just these drugs teenage moms
And the ringing of guns
All we need is love
Everything else is borrowed
Praying for a better tomorrow
Im felling swallowed
So follow me if you feel me
Im paranoid
Im feeling they want to kill me
Everything I do I know they filming
Looking at the windows
Of the buildings
Street lighs as illuminous
AS the moon
A curtain moves
In one of the rooms
Death coming
So start running
Cos it way to soon
I've got to do
what the F*ck I got to do
I'm on the move
Scraping the bottom
with nothing to lose

MC CURTIS

You know I
Aint stopping
cos its all on me
Ay yo the vibes unforgettable
Capture it and hold it
Every moment is impeccable
Like the search on the beach
For the perfect pebble
As the tides rolls in
Holding seashells on sea shores
This is heaven
Ask yourself
If this was your last day
Are you ready hand steady
Its a art of a penman
I half my heart
Half in the art
Half independent
Blood of my forefathers
My ancestors decedents
I'll die for redemption
But I aint past yet
Because
The divine intervention
The last left
Im a ride to the end of my last breath
Everybody is a target so look!
Im Curtis
Right to the death
Cos the army is behind me

Holocaust

And the angel of the Lord came unto me,
Snatching me up from my
Place of slumber,
And took me on high,
And higher still until we
Moved in the spaces betwixt the air itself.
And he bore me unto a
Vast farmland of our own mid-west,
And as we descended cries of
Impending doom rose from the soil.
One thousand, nay, a million
Voices full of fear.
And terror possessed me then.
And I begged,

"Angel of the Lord, what are these tortured screams?"
And the angel said unto me,
"These are the cries of the carrots,
The cries of the carrots.
You see, reverend Curtis, tomorrow is harvest day
And to them it is the holocaust."
And I sprang from my slumber drenched in sweat
Like the tears of one millions terrified brothers
And roared,
"Hear me now,
I have seen the light,
They have a consciousness,
They have a life,
They have a soul.
Damn you!
Let the rabbits wear glasses,
Save our brothers...can I get an amen?
Can I get a hallelujah? thank you, Jesus.


It was daylight when you woke up in your ditch.
You looked up at your sky.
That made blue be your color.
You had your knife with you there too.
When you stood up there was goo all over your clothes.
Your hands were sticky.
You wiped them on your grass,
So now your color was green.
Oh Lord, why did everything always have
To keep changing like this?
You were already getting nervous again.
Your head hurt and it rang when you stood up.
Your head was almost empty.
It always hurt you when you woke up like this.
You crawled up out of your ditch unto your gravel road
And you began to walk
And waited for the rest of your mind to come back to you.
You could see the car parked far down the road
And you walked toward it.
If God is our father, you thought,
Then Satan must be our cousin.
Why didn't anyone else understand these important things?
When you got to your car,
You tried all the doors,
But they were locked.
It was a red car and it was new.
There was an expensive leather camera case lying on the seat.
Out across your field
You could see two tiny people walking by your woods.
You began to walk towards them.
Now red was your color and of course,
Those little people out there were yours too.

Falling Apart

I've been watching them fall,
All falling apart on me.
They leave an unbearable force,
One, I just cannot take.

There are so many battles
That I cannot fight.
All I can do is watch,
Watch their destruction on me.

I don't know what to do.
I don't know who to talk to.
If only it was like it was before,
Because I cannot take this anymore.

Beginning to the End

Sometimes I ponder about what will come next,
Where will my life turn when it seems to stall?
When is the next time I will smile again?
and how will I get up, should I fall?

Happiness fills me with a touch of sadness.
By that I mean I know it can't last.
Beauty decays, laughter subsides,
When will the stones be cast?

Tragedy can be measured,
by the amount of happiness taken away.
Delusion is our only protection
As we fall victim to its prey.

So when I've reached a fork in life's road,
and the choices are many or few.
I follow the one that leads away from misfortune,
Thats all I can really do.

When life is good.
You have to hold it in your hand,
You have to close your eyes,
You have to breathe it in!

Happiness may end,
While tragedy begins,
Today is the beginning
Is tomorrow the end?