Today’s Rap Music

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Today’s rap music (actually today’s music in general) is nothing short of sad. You used to rewind the lyrics of Talib Kweli, Mos Def, Common, The Roots, A Tribe Called Quest etc., because you actually learned something. But now you have to rewind lyrics to convince yourself you really did hear what you wish you didn’t. Take Iggy Azalea for example, who ain’t seen one inch of anybody’s hood. She does not talk like that in real life people, is obviously racists and a mockery toward black people, but yall are all over her. Are we so blind?

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I remember being about eleven years old and joking with my cousins. One of the silliest said they can make a song of anything, that they could make a song about water. And as they hummed their made-up lyrics we laughed about it, our innocence sparing no expense on the buffoonery of our cousin’s song. But today it is no longer funny. It is no longer funny because our joke has made manifest itself in the ears of our children. Our jokes have exalted itself over the years and have actually made it inside the rooms of record companies where young men and women do away with logic because it does not pay the bills; where they do away with the positive influence of having achieved something of value, of substance. A place where the Lil Wayne’s do not talk about their college degrees and the Rick Ross’s do not boast of their life as Criminal Justice officers because this does not pay in money and in power like half dressed women and drugs and diamonds bigger than your head. So, somewhere between Young Thug, K Camp and World Star Hip Hop our children are left with garbage. A hodgepodge of people who never grew up in the hood but the hood is all they rap about. But someone’s son is struggling to eat because his mother is addicted to the same crack he pledges to distribute as soon as his voice is deep enough. Can you blame him? After all, it’s fast, it’s easy, and it is all his role model talks about. A woman’s son, who probably seen more drugs and guns in his six years of life than any of his favorite 106 N Park Rap stars.But this is the music he listens to.

I just hope poetry don’t get this bad, where yall start trading your virginity for a tight lyric and hot beat. Metaphors and similes come a dime a dozen so don’t get caught up in what just sounds good. But make sure you are actually talking about something that makes sense. That you’re giving life to life so that you are truly a deliverer, and not just a tool.

Dear Me

If you cannot acknowledge changes you need to make in your own life, you cannot demand change to take place in the life of others. If you cannot recognize progression in your own life, you will not recognize progression in the life of others. So (inspired by poet Rudy Francisco), I have put together this list, a letter of sorts to myself. It’s not exactly a poem (yet), but if I had to tell myself about myself, this is the list of 10 things I would advise myself:

• Dear Mind, you’re beautiful. It’s OK to let down some of these walls.

• Dear Hair, we’ve been through a lot together and honestly you used to get on my nerves, but I finally appreciate you, the most beautiful ropes I’ve ever seen.

• Dear Eyes, stop limiting yourself and see beyond what you can see.

• Dear Ears, pay attention. Not with the intent to reply, but with the intent to understand.

• Dear Heart, you dictate my life that much is clear, but like seriously, control yourself.

• Dear Emotions, you take things way too seriously and store them far too deep.

• Dear Hands, the storage place for my thoughts; honestly I like you more than the others.

• Dear Mouth, learn to open in your season and not  a moment before or after that.

• Dear Legs, don’t be afraid to lead.

• Dear Faith, you got roots, but the mountains are still waiting for you to move them. Keep growing.

Obsessive Compulsive Coffee Cream Disorder

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Ok, confessional: Who else is addicted to Coffee Cream??

I did not always like coffee. As a matter of fact I thought it was the most disgusting drink ever. That is until I discovered that coffee can actually taste good. It was back in 2010, and a sister of mine prepared me a cup of the most delicious coffee I’d ever tasted (which I admit isn’t saying too much since I didn’t really drink coffee before then but we don’t really have to bring up old stuff). I didn’t even notice the caffeine rush at first, it was just about the taste, the milky creaminess that pulled against the strings of my taste buds. If I could view my mouth under a microscope, I imagine little taste buds were dancing circles around my palate, slapping high fives with my tonsils and wondering where Coffee’s been all our life.

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Now granted I don’t think I qualify as a real coffee drinker, at least that’s what my husband tells me. He says I don’t really drink coffee (he silly lol). But he has somewhat of a point. That point being my obsession with coffee cream. I just can’t drink coffee without cream. Call it OCCCD (Obsessive Compulsive Coffee Cream Disorder), it means you’re addicted to coffee creamer. That is, even if you have milk and sugar you can’t drink coffee unless there is some kind of creamer involved. No joke, this is serious business. Even if there’s sugar and milk and all that extra stuff, no cream? No coffee for me. (Blame the sweet tooth). My favorite is the French Vanilla version of the famous International Delight. This creamy goodness intermingled with the strong dark roast of Folgers is delicious. And let’s not talk about those cool mornings, where the warmth of the coffee wraps its hands around your throat and send heat throughout your entire body. The low temperatures of outdoors against the warm liquid makes coffee a must have during the winter (aside from tea).

Writer’s Quote Wednesday – Intellect

Today’s Writer’s Quote Wednesday is from Anne Sexton:

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“Watch out for intellect, because it knows so much it knows nothing and leaves you hanging upside down… .”

We must not assume that prominence only comes from the intelligent of the world because it is not always about intellect as we may define it. Not always about the knowledgeable, the College graduate, the well-educated, or the well-spoken. Most of the people, who become great historical figures, entrepreneurs, etc., are actually those who are deemed least intelligent by the world status. They are people who have a much more simplicity of character than the general population of their peers. They may be the High School drop-out, the ill, the down trodden, the specially educated, or the lowly in spirit.

Take Anne Sexton for example. Born Ann Grey Harvey, Anne suffered from mental illness for most of her life, breaking down twice following the birth of her children per postpartum depression. As a result, her doctor encouraged her to write poetry which some say helped her to endure life for as long as she did. Her style of poetry has been attributed to Confessional Poetry, defined as:

“Confessional poetry or ‘Confessionalism’ is a style of poetry that emerged in the United States during the 1950s. It has been described as poetry “of the personal,” focusing on extreme moments of individual experience, the psyche, and personal trauma, including previously taboo matters such as mental illness, sexuality, and suicide, often set in relation to broader social themes. It is sometimes also classified as Postmodernism.” – (Internet)

“…mouthing knowledge as your heart falls out of your mouth.”

A man’s speech is always dictated by his heart. A man can proclaim to know all, yet his foolishness can be easily uncovered by the very words he speaks; by the very knowledge he tosses into the air.

In closing, Anne studied with Robert Lowell at Boston University alongside distinguished poets Sylvia Plath and George Starbuck.

Be sure to check out the link for your chance to drink of Silver Threadings Weekly cup of inspirations:

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http://silverthreading.com/2015/01/28/writers-quote-wednesday-theodore-roosevelt-2015-5/

They Had It All

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Tim Okamura

 

When it came to progress reports and GPA’s there could be some acknowledgement
But when it came to c-cups she was incompetent
Forced to be ashamed of her good girl,
turned off abstinence like it was an accident
bought clothes by the way they fit,
if pants didn’t hug thighs
and waist bands didn’t advertise hips,
and if these English words couldn’t intellectualize the gloss on these lips…
then they stayed on the shelf
because see this bad girl was a good girl
but because they had it all she was ashamed of herself.
had no real desire for Timberland’s but you see she rocked ’em
cause she had to
hid pretend air force one tags deep down in her shoe
so nobody could ever know that this quite girl
was trying to fit into a world that gave her the flu
cause with dark skin kinky hair
no one had the slightest idea she was there
so confidence slid into empty chairs
and she pushed set-apartness to the side
and wished for positive comments this time like they were prayers
forget water
a trip to the mall was like walking on air
and as long as footlocker existed so would this love affair
‘cause popularity called her bluff,
and although it never existed for her kindness wasn’t enough
you see A’s and B’s were fruitless and college ambitions got no recognition
unknown to her that good grades and popularity both had stock in the elite
or that invisibility would not be defined by other people’s views of herself
no more than the Jordan’s on her feet
and that no matter how hard she tried
neither Master Degrees or Apple Bottom jeans could make her complete
and despite how long she struggled through school
it was truth that offered her the first seat
knowledge,
wisdom,
and understanding she did receive
cause they had it all
and she had nothing