Keyboard Rapper Vol. 4

A lot of the time I feel locked into old rhymes

Of the days when the ‘Golden Age’ of hip hop shined,

And I try to stay open; I minded my bias,

but young artists in 2018, I don’t buy it.

I try to branch out, but it gets so annoying,

every xanax rapper is so disappointing,

I already used more words this far along

than some trap artists have in their whole damn song.

I don’t really get how their fans got got,

and when I give them a chance, my brain cells rot.

I just get annoyed at the sliding scale

at which rappers are less inclined to rhyme a story, tell a tale,

Paint a picture with your words, make people wanna listen-

instead of simple REPetition-REPetition-REPetition (SKUHRRR)

Kill the noise and convey some real substance,

It gets old to hear about a whole lotta’ nothin’. -RSM

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Nine Haikus.

Reality shows

remind me that there are worse

ways to live my life.

 

Demetri Martin

is a good comedian.

he is so damn weird.

 

Haikus are world known.

Same format, content changes.

Haikus are like memes.

 

Somewhere in this world,

dial-up internet is

connecting to porn.

 

I bet you I’ve slept

more in the last month then all

of this year combined.

 

Clouds before the storm.

A warning of the intense

onslaught to follow.

 

Fire breathes with air,

wind carries flames across land,

and rain ends it all.

 

Haikus on nature

are so extremely cliche.

I really just can’t.

 

The universe has

karma. A boomerang, with

a sense of humor.

Desire None.

I don’t want a damn thing. I don’t need anything else

than I already have, a unique wealth of knowing I can live off what exists for me already;

I feel humble to know I’m not a have-not, I was born on a boat already sailing steady.

 

Most of us who can read this forget about all the others,

the fellow humans who starve, die, and have to run for cover.

First world problems are really just that, nothing

compared to titans like war, genocide, famine, drought,

that take the things away that we can’t live without.

Who really cares what car you drive, or shoes you wear?

None of it would  matter if our water supply went dry,

or if military conflicts poisoned our air.

 

Material things are distractions – from the suffering around us, poverty elsewhere, and from truly knowing ourselves.

Our consciousness gets shelved, for bright screens, being encouraged to chase ‘American Dreams,’

and heads talking on TV about ‘what matters’, ringing soundless bells,

they hope that our attention is caught in their trap,

to chase wealth, keep our eyes on the backlit panes, and develop a preference for useless crap.

 

Desire none, and you’ll be doing better than most.

A welcome antidote to 21st century stresses; take back your consciousness,

deflect materialism, call out manipulation. Though it may take a while,

you’ll have peace of mind – less to worry about, a lighter soul, and a brighter smile. – RSM

What song will play after the final scene of your life’s movie? 

after the last line is spoken by the up-and-coming young star that was cast to play you, and re-enact the highlights of all you ever did and what you’re about to do,

it’s important to specify these things, you know, maybe in a notarized will or some legally binding shit like that,

so that when your legacy is even further cemented by the highest medium available in cinema, long after you’re onto the next life,

you have your life shaped the way you wanted, before it’s recreated, broadcasted, flaunted, even, as a cinematic masterpiece, the best biopic since Ray (2004). 

That’s kinda how I look at it, the actions in life that I do, at least, I guess, whatever a ‘legacy’ means in the 21st century, be it called our ‘life story,’ or just a series of ridiculous snaps,

we shape our life’s trajectory every day with our impulses, actions and hesitations.

Am I gonna get up at 4 am today? I meann I could just hop a plane to New Zealand, change my name, and have a 2 and 3/4 year vacation,

but that’s not what I wanna do; run away from obstacles, I mean.

The best karma is demonstrated.

Cultivated, by your own hands, your own doings, the hard work you put into this life during hard times will eventually turn tides (like the moon).

Pulling through the rough patches – patient, poised, with a soda on the side,

is like when you have Onyx in a Pokemon battle and you’re about to unleash like, 3 turns worth of ‘Bide.’

Jussayin’, when the credits roll in the last scene of this biopic that so far only exists in my imagination, I don’t want it to be a cliche-catchy-radio-bs-whatever thing,

nor would I be so inclined to have only a song from my time, either, but no matter what era it ends up being from, I want it to get people thinking, smiling, loving, singing, and quickly blinking,

while looking into their soul’s mirror, contemplating, asking themselves just as a what-if:

What song will play after the final scene of your life’s movie? – RSM

 

P.S. My Choice is One Life by The Pillows:

(Lyrics in English)

10 Best Poems of 2017

These are my personal favorites from my original work this year:

Screenshot 2017-12-29 at 10.05.07 AM
10. The Velvet Jungle
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9. De Ja Vu All Over Again
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8. Dance
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7. A Few Concerns
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6. Landing From A Leap of Faith
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5. The Bags Under My Eyes 1 of 2
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5. The Bags Under My Eyes 2 of 2
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4. SpiritualBeingsHumanExperience
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3. Fight Fire With Water
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2. Come at Me, Universe
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1. Sun and Moon

“…gracefully surrendering the things of youth.”

Many a time a conscious mind willingly went astray,

into the woods of vivid colors and mysterious sensations.

Many memories survive of the times when smiles were wide,

The air so dense and murky, rain clouds wondered what we were up to.

‘Regret-me-not, forget-me-not’ is the protocol I put on these good times I recall,

but all-in-all, the realm we call ‘reality’,

on its baseline,‘au natural’ level is what I most currently enjoy.

 

I have a large cache of long-term recollections, fueling introspection toward the past,

but looking back on the few late nights in recent days, long since my change of ways

I see the best of times depend on the ‘who’ around me;

the ‘what’, ‘where’, ‘when’ and ‘why’ matter far less in retrospect.

I now celebrate sobriety in my own mind, quietly.

I’ve learned that good company matters more than something to ingest or breathe in;

it’s not cool to me anymore.

 

White Cuffs

White cuffs peek from the green sweater

With my name etched on the right side pocket

In classy, white cursive.

My navy blue slacks get a little tattered at the heels,

and eventually my Reebok Classics look a bit too ‘classic’ to wear.

Running, playing, making friends, playing tag;

My school uniform can’t keep up with me.

 

White cuffs hidden by a navy blue blazer, but keep

peeking as I keep speaking behind turned teacher’s heads,

Being a pre-teen with my pre-teen friends, who don’t care

if our blazers’ gold buttons break off while trying to catch a football.

The tie color changed, but the letters on it didn’t.

 

My white cuff sizes went up as my voice went low,

collared shirt now hidden by navy blue sweater.

Full-blown hormones, surrounded by pretty girls,

every turn, every twist, every class, every locker,

girls all over the place! And they think I’m cute?

I can get used to high school and my biggest  white cuffs so far.

A bigger, different sweater every year til I’m 18,

and as I graduated I thought the white cuffs on my

button down shirts would be all but eradicated.

 

For a while, a dormant crowd of white cuffs hung on their

sleeves, that hung on their collars, that hung on their hangers,

that hung on the pole in my closet, and that’s how I liked it.

After 14 years of a shirt and tie, 5 days a week,

the preppy look in my mind mind was canned, and

band tees and Vans kicks were in, and they looked sick!

So my weekend wear became the apparel of my undergrad years,

but I still feared someday I would be an adult that ended up

dressing up for work, no earrings in my ears,

and be the guy in a suit and tie having a beer.

 

The premonition came true, but much better than I thought,

cause what I feared most isn’t true; In my suit and tie adult life

I don’t feel much sadness or strife. The latest upgrade is the set

of black suits, nice ties and white shirts I wear, day in and day out.

I thought it would make me feel square, lame, or wack,

but a big part of me feels like I’m back on track.

 

The premonition turned out much better than I thought,

I’m wearing white cuffs again, but I’m more happy than not. – RSM