© 2016 Imprese
Saturday, November 12, 2016
© 2016 Imprese
Saturday, October 8, 2016
Hip Hop verses birth words that urge murder
& discharged nickel-plated bitch lyrics from
nigger mortis tongues...
Microphone check one
Rec execs slip chains around the necks of plantatn MCs,
Black face rat race shufflin like Steppin Fetchit
content to fit in hauling buckets full of platinum bullshit for label pimps;
Jack be nimble, Jack be too quick trickin for a deal to sign.
Hip Hop is no longer about the righteousness of the rhyme;
it's about the ice, make a mill, keep a bill & use the rest to pay back te advance.
Understand the industry's plan is to destroy
the TRUE NATURE of Hip Hop...
The "Yes, yes y'all & you don't stop"
See REAL MCs be microphone fiends...
Microhone check two
It's time to get back to the roots, the real, the raw, pure unadulterated lyrical rage, two turntables & a microhone stage.
Dope ass beats that rock the spot & groove ya ass whether u like it or not...
Microhone check three
Chief Rocker Busy Bee, Run DMC, Afrikan Bambaataa & The Zulu Nation, KRS One, Common Sense, Black Thought, DJ Kool Herc, Guru, Q-Tip, Yo-Yo, Lady Of Rage, Roxanne Shante, MC Lyte, Dead Prez, Da Roots, Dougie Fresh, Rakim, Sugar Hill, Mia X, The Queen...
True Hip Hop is the unruffled voice of the masses.
Fuck these two-bit ass rappers that wouldn't have lyrics if it wasn't for sampling...
Monday, May 9, 2016
Knowing again this is the time to begin again,
feeling easy & free;
moving cool like lips over ice cream.
Curves enticing warm breezes to tease my skin
winds sneak underneath the hem of my dress
exposing just enough
of my soul
to the sun
paint me ultravioletly the color of honey so…
I’m glowing again.
so I could fly high when spring came around again.
Walking on clouds with manicured toes
watching for rain
fall like perfume for the flowers
and shower giant oaks with green afros.
Gonna sit underneath & let the velvet grass beneath
envelope me like the kiss of emerald from a thousand lips
and sip pomegranate tea
cipher with the bees
while humming bird wings scribe lines to my poetry
The universe knows its me
when I send vibrations thru my pen
cuz I’m connected to my gift
like my hand’s connected to my wrist;
as I conjugate verbs
and manipulate words
cuz my cipher’s connected to this earth.
Call me Gaia
cuz I give birth to new beginnings
and new theories to relativity
Seasons change at the mere mention of my name
Mother, Goddess, Queen
The universe knows it me,
when I send vibrations thru my pen.
Sunday, December 13, 2015
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Saturday, January 10, 2015
*I find my wave*
I miss the days of Miles Davis & John P. Kee,
When there was no FACEBOOK, Instagram... or mobile T.V.
JUST...U N ME...
the screens I was longing to see...
Admittedly... In today's world of technology,
I've over indulged in touchscreens.
So I couldn't see
the cyberspace between us.
Let's make up
the algorithms to reconnect;
& I promise to disconnect my profile...
just to focus on your smile;
we sit quietly
spoken silence mixes with Miles & Stevie
weaving images of chocolate chip kisses laced with Bitches Brew...
the me I was
So, let's recapture images
without camera phone clicks or downloading memories thru Instagram selfies...
in real organic sensations.
Like, soft-lipped kisses on fingertips,
lingering embraces that leave Dolce & Gabbana traces on my ear lobe
spontaneous pecks on your collar bone...
Just to remind us...
that human touch is beautiful...
And the me that is you...
SO if I "Like" you....
will you "Poke" me back;
like we used to before the damn I Mac?
come HERE, gimme yo neck.
I would wait until you sipped, before I asked for a kiss....
NOT another BLACK and WHITE pic...
What you can DO, is slide in a CD, while we vibe to a lil Slick Rick! ;-)
Hehe, ha ha, ctfu....thts what weve become.
Im only allowed so many characters.......so there.....NOW IM DONE.
Of course I "Like" you... I checked the box that said "Yes" on the sheet of loose-leaf u gave me;
along with the sandwich bag full of penny candy.
When you would slip a touch
on the small of my back;, the back of my neck
the round of my hips...
to emails & texts.
Maybe we can connect turning pages of a book in our faces
as we share space with sunrays & rap a taste
on Kush & Kemet, modern day hip hop prophets & our favorite incense.
Now everybody speaks in hashtags, anagrams & abbreviated sentences.
composing 8 bar lyrics beneath the stars;
So let's get back to basics,
You & me baby are a simple equation...
All Rights Reserved