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.
Exposed like an open can of “Whoop Ass”
Oh No! – My Lib is Mad
City on my shoulders.
I don’t lace tracks,
I spit roller coasters.
Look who’s talking now!
No John Travolta.
It isn’t easy to please me.
I’ll give it to you, but no freebies
Listen — Pay attention
Hidden in the fragrance of trees
I’m a lover not a fighter,
I hate the Heat.
I Love Summer
I’ll slay the king.
With one shot
By any means necessary….
Shower me with blessings when I sneeze!!
If loving you is wrong, then I want to be right, cause I heard opposites attract, and I know it’s true because when I was in the dark you were my light. Like iced tea, and batteries. Two negatives only make a positive when they are multiplied, but I’m not ready for children. So until then instead of hearing me, I ask you to listen.
Holding up lazy lids are tired eyes.
Behind the tired eyes is a racing mind.
In the being of a mental giant.
Who isn’t compliant, but vigilant.
Their weakness is their strength.
the scent sweeter than flowers,
Digesting laughter that melts deep into the stomach and gives life to butterflies.
In an instant these feelings can corrode the heart.
Too many smiling faces, can’t seem to tell them apart.
Unless its by the role they’ve assumed, now you’ve become the ass, but never wanted to play in the first place.
Ain’t nothing wrong with losing….sometimes.
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.
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.
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.
I am Vigilant Leighrick..
Are you willing to die for what you believe in?
What is it that you believe?
What makes you a believer?
Make believe, made me believe honesty was just a fairytale..
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 Appétit !,
– Vigilant Leighrick, Poetic Renegade.