tounges battling, we

fighting for power, kiss me

now, infinitely



Writers Write Poetry Challenge Prompt 6 Day 21 Prompt: Write a poem about a kiss in a form you haven’t explored yet

DOWNLOAD: D2G’s “Blood Diamond” mixtape


I don’t care where the hell you are, you should download D2G’s “Blood Diamond” mixtape. This is his first solo project, and I started to rock with this dude on his and Vic Spencer’s “Hard Bars” tape, which was produced and mixed by my Twitter crush, Flyying Dutchman. I’m going to roll a bit of Strawberry Cough, give this a listen, and be back here with my review later tonight.

Check the fly shit and download this one, bitches and bitchettes: “Blood Diamond”

Bottom of the Bottle – (Incomplete Short Story–I might make into something longer if I feel up to it.)

I watch Michael pour another shot; we are celebrating. What, you ask? Nothing. You’re supposed to have a reason to drink though, right? He walks around passing the shots out, and everybody–that is, the ten of us gathered in the kitchen guzzle them down. My body is beginning to tingle, this is about our fifth or sixth shot at this point. We’ve also been drinking beers; I lost count at seven.

We toasted to some corny thing or the other–to friendship or great friendships–I don’t really care. I don’t even know what kind of liquor it was at this point. I was busy thinking of where Jennifer might be. Her and her boyfriend Mark came together.

I have crushed on Jennifer for a few months now, and I can tell she likes me too by her eye contact. We haven’t spoken since we met at Mike’s last party, but we do an excessive amount of staring. It’s not that I’m nervous to speak to her, but she’s been playing Siamese Twins with a new dude every party. She and Mark are probably off somewhere fondling one another. I sip on my beer and look around. Continue reading

I AM AN ARTIST (incomplete)

I projectile paint pictures on porcelain

The finest emulsions found in my paunch

Art more beautiful than DaVinci found in pipelines throughout the city.

My finger and tongue, palette for the world’s most gorgeous works

I wipe my mouth with my hands
I ate too much again
My stomach filled to bursting
Like a balloon in the mouth of a habitually overindulgent child 
The pressure willing me to burst 
Can’t bear to see my weight grow in the same matter
A direct correlation between my size and how much of me I loathe
My face isn’t lily white
My skeleton not apparent
I don’t envy models on the runway 
In fact, you will find my eyes more green in the Southsides of our cities–Where asses flourish
Much more so than our suburbs
My shapliness belies
The disorder within the recesses of my mind
Been batlling with bulemia long before I understood the term
a plague
Me–the offspring of ham–cursed to compulsively eat
It’s always okay if I eat too much
There’s a simple solution 
Solved by a single digit
Simple math
Returning from bathrooms
Eyes glazed over
A grin and a rub of the stomach
Artistry at it’s finest–the audience magically tricked 
The emptiness like a drug 
In direct opposition to the fullness

… that’s all I have… Bulemia is real. It exists. Black, White, Green, Yellow… skin color means nothing when the ideal follows one unrealistic body size.


I’m a mature-on-Wednesdays 26 year-old. I was born in 1985, the year A Tribe Called Quest (or ATCQ, of course) formed. When their debut album, People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm was released, I was all of 5 years old. I didn’t grow up listening to their music, either. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even know who they were until the late 90’s, and that was mainly because one of their hit singles, “Electric Relaxation” was the theme song on Wayan’s Bros..

Still, when finally introduced to their music as a high school freshman in 1999, I immediately fell in love. The beats. Charisma. Rhymes. Themes. “Butter”. “Vibes and Stuff”. “Oh My God”. “Scenario”. Their music as a whole captivated the hell out of me. It made me feel alright with being a nerd who didn’t give a fuck about being a nerd because I was actually being me. DMX, Jay-Z, Nas, Busta Rhymes and Co. reigned supreme in the rap and hip-hop world, but it was always ATCQ that stayed in rotation in my $29.99 portable CD player.

Recently I saw Beats, Rhymes & Life: The Travels of A Tribe Called Quest, a documentary about transcendent hip-hop group A Tribe Called Quest. Directed by Michael Rapaport, it covered their beginning and end, highs and lows, with added commentary from the group’s family and friends, label, manager, collaborating artists, and artists who were simply fans. It was rather shocking to hear Phife Dawg diss Q-Tip, Q-Tip seem to never know why Phife was mad at him, see Ali virtually caught in the middle and Jarobi…gone.

ATCQ is my favorite music group, period. Over Wu-Tang Clan and Radiohead/OutKast/Daft Punk combined. Q-Tip and Phife’s rhymes have gotten me through more days than I can count. Obviously, I knew the group broke up and that the split wasn’t exactly amicable. However, I had no idea how the shit hit the fan within the group. I used to scoff when older people would lament over their favorite group disbanding, a lead singer defecting to go solo, a drummer turning to gospel. After being able to physically see the inner turmoil, I can finally understand why those changes can be hard for some fans to handle.

There were some negatives about the documentary. It was disheartening to actually see the in-fighting; to hear outsider accounts of a dysfunctional group slowly meeting its demise. I certainly didn’t like nor agree with the shared sentiment that Beats, Rhymes and Life and The Love Movement were subpar albums. Maybe they weren’t the first three, but how one could deny their dopeness is beyond me. Some parts that switched from Q-Tip’s to Phife’s opinions on the other had an almost elementary school playground vibe, which was unnecessary in my opinion.

However, I loved the background music and the interaction between the group’s members…during the good times. Hearing other artists of the genre describe how ATCQ influenced them was something that reaffirmed that I wasn’t the only nerdy kid who felt liberated by their music. I got to see Monie Love, weird clothes, and heard “Midnight” played in a movie theater. Not too shabby.

I knew there would be no happy ending. No reveal that ATCQ would be getting back together. My friend and I were surprised to find out that the group is actually contractually obligated to release one more album. So maybe we’ll be able to get that album and one more tour. Seeing the way things ended, I wouldn’t advise any ATCQ-lovers to hold their breath. I would like to tell you to get off of your asses and go see that documentary, though.

P.S. I miss Karen and the Moondance Woman!!!

P.P.S. Go Green. Go White.

“Go Louis”, Vic Spencer/Black Spade

All hail the artistic return of Vic Spencer. By now, you already know the story behind “Go Louis”. At least, I’m assuming you do if you’re reading this. Here’s the abridged story: Chicago rapper Vic Spencer meets St. Louis emcee/producer Black Spade and “Go Louis” is born. Before this release, I had only really been familiar with “Vic Magorium’s Hip-Hop Emporium”, which has been in steady rotation since I downloaded it in December, 2009. Normally, I wouldn’t approve of Chicago and St. Louis mixing in any shape, form, or fashion, mostly because I’m a Cubs and Bears fan, but I was happy to make an exception in this case. Without spoiling a great listening experience, I’d like to say that the intro, “The Way An Intro Should Sound” and “Politics & Bullshit (That’s All You Hear)” are tracks that have great replay value, while accompanied by others, such as the semi-light but tight “Meltdown” and what I believe was the tape’s grittiest track, “79th Street”. Guests include Vic Mensa, Primeridian, Brian Fresco and Naledge, among others who help Spencer take another step towards establishing himself as one of the rappers who everyone should be listening to in 2011.

“Go Louis”, Vic Spencer/Black Spade link below:

Fake Shore Drive

"Go Louis"

‘s been a while.

i’m rusty, i know, and this poem probably sucks.
eh. nobody reads poems anyway.
but i felt like writing today, and i was thinking of my grandmother and an aunt who recently passed… and the words just came…

each tear carries a memory of you
each second, a smile
i don’t want to let either go
my biggest fear, forgetting you–
in those lost tears and moments
why must we always think of the best words to say when the time is up?
so much i never said
just assumed you knew
and now…
i wish i’d have just spoken my mind
rather than waiting ’til now
when the words are spoken to deaf winds
with a paper and pen
more of your memory fading with this blue ink
i can’t hear your response in pictures
hear you giggle at how silly i’m being
it sucks knowing, though, that
i should’ve hugged you one last time
uttered, “i love you,” more often when i thought of it
appreciated your presence as temporary
but we always assume that forever will never end
don’t we?


i’m not sad. just sitting here writing.

The Message

Head-bone connects to the neck-bone
Neck-bone connects to the arm-bone
Arm-bone connects to the hand-bone
Hand-bone connects to the internet
Connected to the Google
Connected to the government

Head-bone connects to the headphones
Headphones connect to the iPhone
iPhone connected to the internet
Connected to the Google
Connected to the government