Name: Ianthe M. Belisle Dempsey
Age: 17
Favorite philosopher: Ralph Waldo Emerson
Age: 17
Favorite philosopher: Ralph Waldo Emerson
Been there
Time travel
And, yes!!
I say that time travel
Really does already exist
But not through the sciences
And through physics
But it exists within the power
Of our own minds
To illuminate our own memories
And now through some
Subliminal hypnotic state of mind
One can recede back
Into one's own previous life
Not to extract precise, minute details
But to re-inhabit vague transcendental experiences of pre-existential... optimism
A time before any ability to reason
Is actually set
A time before logic covers
All the dimensions of our thinking
And if we're lucky
We can even dissolve back
To a time of glorious, superhuman
Space and time
A time when all things seem possible
Time travel
And, yes!!
I say that time travel
Really does already exist
But not through the sciences
And through physics
But it exists within the power
Of our own minds
To illuminate our own memories
And now through some
Subliminal hypnotic state of mind
One can recede back
Into one's own previous life
Not to extract precise, minute details
But to re-inhabit vague transcendental experiences of pre-existential... optimism
A time before any ability to reason
Is actually set
A time before logic covers
All the dimensions of our thinking
And if we're lucky
We can even dissolve back
To a time of glorious, superhuman
Space and time
A time when all things seem possible
check these sweet tunes.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
hip hop
in a nation of increasing gentrification and homogenisation
we will not be homogenised
the revolution will not be televised
it will be written,
in the form of the rhymes that we're spittin
real hip hop can never be stopped
and after you read the lyrics we've dropped, it's a compliment to say we killed it
when really we willed it to live in spite of murderers hiding behind gucci bandanas
pushing aside a message of love and respect
for drinkin 40s, bangin' shorties, then they're in court he's not paying his child support
maybe if we break down "crimes" we can finally "c - rimes" as a vehicle for change
and maybe we can rearrange the priorities of a youth gone deranged
since being estranged from their first true love
when they turned on the radio and heard messages so pervasive and yet so un-Common
why is it that while hip hop boosts people up and rap beats people down
all that I've found is that the love in hip hop has been drowned out by a flocka clowns
who only love dem gun sounds
well it's about time for a crackdown on these impostors
and don't think that running for the boondocks will make you a free man, cause where I'm from
the wheels are starting to turn and I just KNOW the time will come
when you will have to face your robbery and your face will get all slobbery but I see right through it
you stole what was ours by our own accord and sold it back to us at a price we could barely afford
everybody at school has the exact same $25 Run-DMC t-shirts
I'm looking at our future and right now everything that I see hurts
I see a world where nothing we create belongs to us
where nobody even raises a fuss
about having our own souls and imaginations co-opted, regurgitated and looped over a drum machine beat
and it will be no easy feat
to stand on our own two feet
and march into the street
and refuse to repeat as something sweet what is clearly sour
it is the dawning of a new age where real hip hop will reclaim its power
with Public Enemy as the ally and DOOM as the salvation
returning to the glory of the Zulu Nation
close your eyes
listen
and be assured
the revolution will not be televised, it will be heard
in a nation of increasing gentrification and homogenisation
we will not be homogenised
the revolution will not be televised
it will be written,
in the form of the rhymes that we're spittin
real hip hop can never be stopped
and after you read the lyrics we've dropped, it's a compliment to say we killed it
when really we willed it to live in spite of murderers hiding behind gucci bandanas
pushing aside a message of love and respect
for drinkin 40s, bangin' shorties, then they're in court he's not paying his child support
maybe if we break down "crimes" we can finally "c - rimes" as a vehicle for change
and maybe we can rearrange the priorities of a youth gone deranged
since being estranged from their first true love
when they turned on the radio and heard messages so pervasive and yet so un-Common
why is it that while hip hop boosts people up and rap beats people down
all that I've found is that the love in hip hop has been drowned out by a flocka clowns
who only love dem gun sounds
well it's about time for a crackdown on these impostors
and don't think that running for the boondocks will make you a free man, cause where I'm from
the wheels are starting to turn and I just KNOW the time will come
when you will have to face your robbery and your face will get all slobbery but I see right through it
you stole what was ours by our own accord and sold it back to us at a price we could barely afford
everybody at school has the exact same $25 Run-DMC t-shirts
I'm looking at our future and right now everything that I see hurts
I see a world where nothing we create belongs to us
where nobody even raises a fuss
about having our own souls and imaginations co-opted, regurgitated and looped over a drum machine beat
and it will be no easy feat
to stand on our own two feet
and march into the street
and refuse to repeat as something sweet what is clearly sour
it is the dawning of a new age where real hip hop will reclaim its power
with Public Enemy as the ally and DOOM as the salvation
returning to the glory of the Zulu Nation
close your eyes
listen
and be assured
the revolution will not be televised, it will be heard
Labels: poem
Ianthe. posted at 9:25 PM