Wrinkled Rappers

You’re a rapper
You think you’re gifted

I’m a legend, and I get lifted

Cows believe my bullshit
But a shark knows a whale ain’t a fish.

Suspect suspicion,
Exposed like an open can of “Whoop Ass”
Oh No! – My Lib is Mad
Ludacris.

The pity.
City on my shoulders.

I don’t lace tracks,
I spit roller coasters.

Look who’s talking now!
No John Travolta.

Easy Peasy,
It isn’t easy to please me.
I’ll give it to you, but no freebies

Listen — Pay attention

Strange clouds,
Hidden in the fragrance of trees

Fire! Fire!

I’m a lover not a fighter,
I hate the Heat.
I Love Summer
Knight me,
I’ll slay the king.

With one shot
No bullets.
Just words.

By any means necessary….

Shower me with blessings when I sneeze!!

-Leighrick

Coroner on the Corner

This one here is for
The little boy in the corner,
The little boy on the corner,
The little boy in the coroner,

The man in the mirror is
some bodies little boy, somebodies little boy.

Crying shame,
Try Finding strength.
Crying bullets, not in range, but enraged.
No tears at all, because no bodies there to catch them
Nobody is here to listen.

Foreign to intuition.
Imperiled by institutions.

You said you had my back, but them you caught me with a knife.

This one here is for
The little boy in the corner,
The little boy on the corner,
The little boy in the coroner,

The man in the mirror is
some bodies little boy, somebodies little boy.

Idle body.
Absent mind.
Hidden in the darkness.
Played follow the leader and was misguided.

This is for you kid!

All through life you grow up hearing,
“Don’t do anything stupid”
But in every experience you obtain knowledge.

Lend them your soles to walk in, so
They may feel the exhaustion, and
Be aware of the mileage.
Only look back to see how far you’ve come, then
Keep moving forward.

This one here is for
The little boy in the corner,
The little boy on the corner,
The little boy in the coroner,

The man in the mirror is
some bodies little boy, somebodies little boy.

Life seemed so simple, when you use to play with toys
Now some of these toys make a much different noise.
That can take time away in the form of lives.
That cannot be reborn, because this is not a video game.

A spectator let loose in a playas game..

This one here if for
The little boy who needs his mamas kiss,
The little boy who needs his fathers attention.
The little boy who yearns for love and affection.

From the cradle to the grave

Pour out a little liquor, keep swallowing the pain.

this little boy looking in the mirror trying to teach himself to be a man.
How to withstand the loneliness by himself, looking for a shoulder to lean on.
The ridicule of the free man telling him to jump, but he knows
Deep inside he hasn’t felt his wings growin’.

Be in control of emotions.
Retain focus.
Push yourself and you may be able to help someone else,
Keep going.

Life is a test of your patience and gratefulness.

King your time will come.
Build your empire with wisdom
Your heart of gold will make your bloodline rich.

This one here is for
The little boy in the corner,
The little boy on the corner,
The little boy in the coroner,

The man in the mirror is
some bodies little boy, somebodies little boy.

All the tears you accumulated are meant to,
Get you through the hardships.
Establish relationships.
Discover true friendship.
Your battleship is sacred.

This one here is for
The little boy in the corner,
The little boy on the corner,
The little boy in the coroner,

The man in the mirror is
some bodies little boy, somebodies little boy.

Smiling.

til Kingdom-come.

-Leighrick

Rain Again

The clouds crowd around the sun, like moths to a bright light. This hue of blue turned grey. I guess there really are 50 shades. Even tho it’s dismal outside, I’ll still wear my shades. You can stare,but you can’t see past the glass. The rain starts to fall, yet the drops are graceful. I use to hate this, until I witnessed a tree smile. Showering me all while sheltering me, this feeling can only be a mother’s unconditional love. Now i dance in the rain instead of slump with my head down, sometimes the sun gets jealous. The clouds begin to part, the sun wants all the shine. Like the stars, the ones we can follow along the red velvet to see on display. The real stars are smart and stay out of reach, but occasionally they shoot trying to catch our dreams,and put motion to our wishes. The reflection of the oceans, I can’t swim but I can fly. I’m just learning how land, It’s not as easy as taking flight. The air here is thin, but crisp. I bask in the softness of the clouds, and let melodies of the sun rays whisper sweet nothings of silence. Interrupting my tranquility is a parade — I predict it will rain again tomorrow.

-Leighrick

Perpetrators

These perpetrators trying to live on elevators.
They get stuck on the easy route
They should have of just taken the stairs.
There’s levels to this shit,
You couldn’t reach the top,
even if you are standing on the highest pedestal, with a chair on top, and both hands in the air.
I could careless, but when you breath it pollutes my air.
Watering it down the game, until all that‘s left it total shame.
Who is there to blame?
Who are you?
I’d rather call you by your real name.
Lame.
Thinking you’re blowing up Hip-Hop,
but you just Pop.
I won’t stop – until you feel the need to.
I don’t pay you much attention, but my smirk is cordial.
Snickering at your lollipop lyrics, it’s like taking candy from a baby.
I snatch the volume down to make sure nobody hears it.
Your mumbling and fumbling over your words.
The first time you spit, it stayed on your shirt, couldn’t hardly make it to the curb.
Now you’re chillin with some sick peep, but they aren’t the iLLest. The conglomerates coming through.
Hello,
I am Vigilant Leighrick..

Break Fast & Read Slow

Break Fast & Read Slow.
This morning I sit contemplating, scrummaging through synonyms and personifications. I take a stab at exercising mediation and writing being in sync.
Once upon a time I believed that communication in relationships [i.e Family, Intimate, Friends ,etc] was farfetched. Telling one person, let alone the world how I feel? Never!That is…until I picked up a pen, maybe it was a pencil, or maybe I was sitting at the computer abusing it with my bead eyes and frolicking fingers.
Since then I have been pursing creative writing. First – I wrote with intentions of beefing up my confidence, but more importantly I found an outlet. The feeling is natural, as I began to simmer down writing became a healthier alternative for expressing myself, and the way I feel.
I have dissected every syllable and ingested every doubt. Collecting memories like recipes, and holding them close like secrets.
No longer do I believe that I am restricted to pain, sadness, tearful joy, trauma, warm love, oppression, heartbreak, etc to produce a gem. The pressure has ceased, and all these ingredients are just that.
As appetizing as it reads – surely it does not define the divine Goddess I am.
So currently I am marinating in this process of enlightenment. Soaking up the pungent frustration and tart effortlessness. I am the author of [my] cookbook; is your mind malnourished? How about some dessert for thought, the sweetest tasting intellect served on a platinum incrusted paper plate.
Thus allowing you to savor every simile, break down every syllable, and extract every nutrient from my light, and let the imagery melt in your hand and mouth, this is what love tastes like.

Bon App├ętit !,
Vigilant Leighrick, Poetic Renegade.

Who Needs Sleep?

Instead of sleeping I think.
Conversing with my Conscience.
rekindling memories and setting ablaze doubts.
I am the smile and the frown, together
Shaping beauty.
Jaded compliments, opening old wounds
Tho deceptive as the skin may be,
The density of my bones, upholds a heavy spirit.
A paradox.
It beams light, and eases darkness.
Breaching the infrastructure of this tale, it’s growing
Rooted so far down the sky becomes the ground, and
My solar plexus houses the blueprints of galaxies.
Invisible to looking eyes.
Tap into the 3rd frequency, and see
Wisdom is heard in the whispers.
Instead of sleeping I think.
Imagining my own colors,
Sanding a frame of sizable impression for masterpieces.
Empathy is kept safe in the right atrium’s, saving what’s left for the ventricles.
I found love on a two way street,
Sitting at the crossroads.
Lotus Pose.
Unlocking the gift to
Be.
Willing…
Knowingly….
Instead of sleeping, I think.

-Leighrick

The Giving Tree

The spine is a trunk.
The nerves are vines, draping insides of beings like sound-walls.
Meditation is the freeway to higher learning, of self.
A portal.
This truth is no pyramid scheme;
Judge taste – not people.
Leaves fall resembling coin filled wishes, to the bottom of a pond.
Whose depths are more than seen on surface.
We are all flowers.
The branches of energy are
fruitful, delicate, and sometimes blemished.
Mother’s of the sun birth daughters of stars, with crescent eyes.
Upheld by Orion.
Their voices mocking Little Walter;
Singing blues to the blacks, browns, and all bands of color.
Harmoniously their cries spawn tides, expunging identities.
There is peace lodged in the throats of mutes.
Yoga is poetry in the form sign language.
Exchanging idioms between flexibility and endurance.
This Being –
Firm like a mountain, pose
Still like a tree, yet
a Warrior soul.

-Leighrick