assonance-n-dissonance-blog

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

W o r t h l e s s

As I cry, blade pierce past the tears

I’ve been trapped for years upon years

Tightening ropes, choking my throat

Letting breath pass just to pass on the hope.

Cuts upon my soul have been bleeding so long

Longing for something I’ll never become

Hating my judgements, pulling the pump,

Barrel down to head as I’m shelling out blood

I’ve committed the crime of coming so close

And bailing out, in fear of the worst

But there she stood, gripping blade at hand

Wrists have been sliced, more than cracks in the land

Screaming and shouting but nothing is heard

Caged in her mind, such a voiceless bird

Peel off the rind of society’s scum,

Soon you’ll see none of us can run

I’ll run as fast as I can I will claim

Just so that I could escape all this pain.

Peel off the rind of society’s scum,

Soon you’ll see none of us can run

I’ll run as fast as I can I will claim

Just so that I could escape all this pain.

Maybe someday, it’ll rain for the saints

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

Chains

Ashy gray blades and a barrel by my waist,

A chain ‘round my neck got me feeling like a slave

Every night and day, I waste away and hate

The way I go out and portray my life today

It's all about the shame I feel, I wish that I could strike a deal

Even slice and peel the righteous pill, toke and smoke

And kill myself.

Run the blades along the veins and butcher up

This bastard pace, I wish that I could go away and maybe then the debt I'd pay.

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

_InSanity

I feel stressed,

My brain don’t rest,

My head’s a mess

I pray every-night,

That I’ll get a fucking rest.

 ‘Cause I feel like my heart’s

Gonna burst right out my chest

 I’m not talking jest,

This shit needs to be

confessed.

 Sometimes I wanna get a Glock

And hold it to my damn head

 When I’m mad all I ever see is red

When I’m sad, I bury myself

In my damn bed.

 Escape the perpetual pain

That I feel

In my heart,

 The shame

That I feel

When it starts

 Like a freshly cut wound

Or shot from the dark

 When the blood drips down

Bloody up that bloody town.

 Pull a knife,

Make it loud

Turn that smile into

A frown

 Mutilate,

Then escape

He’ll be missing his nape

It’s all fate,

When I wake

Turn your death into a tape

 But I can’t tape the tap dripping

From my chest, lest I’d expose

The mess of a brain and I suppose

I’m going insane, blood escaping my veins

The pain is near, I feel the fear, it’s coming

It’s coming,

It’s comi-

It’s here.

 At last I’ll burn everything I’d held dear.

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

Dear Rappers

Dear Rappers,

Its tragic.

The words flying off this page’ll make you panic.

Can’t be asked with your silly little antics.

Talk about road as if it’s romantic?

The only pussy touched was cat

And I’m sure you could never afford a gat

So stop lying you silly little prat

Before you’re made to be put in place

You insolent illiterate waste

You’re only verbally murdering tracks

With your unintelligent incoherent raps

If we were go on a speed ‘ting

You’d be left breathing in my breeze

My rhymes can make you sneeze

And cause the wobble in your knees

I can see you’re getting a little peed

Maybe you should stop toking the weed

You foolish little weed

Your presence is that of un-need

Ed-ucation’s no longer what you seek

Man’s gonna ‘ave punch your cheeks

And show you how to really rip up a beat

You see, I’ve never claimed to go down the street

But I’ll present my verses pretty neat

Take a seat

As you experience my impenetrable heat

Not that of coppers

Or shotters

I’d rather spend time watching operas

Than trying so hard to be popular

Or have man tryna’ burst my jugular

 I know, I keep up this irregular rhyme

Some would go far enough to label it a crime

But piss off, I’m not doing no time

For dousing your wounds with lime

Or flaming you line by line

Verbal maiming was never a crime

I have a lot usually on my mind

So be glad I took out any time

To eloquently put forth this chime

Killing a rhythm like Optimus Prime

Point out your errors, I’m so sublime

You’re the same as everyone, dickhead mime

Your words waste three minutes of my time.

Don’t act as if your shit’s meaningful

My word’s break yours, they’re evil

Strategise a rhythm like Sun-Tzu

You got rich pricks sitting living cush tryna fund you

And bare man comin’ to run you?

I’m sure your life would be done too

Not done. With a gun.

Just done in prison up the bum.

How fun!

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

Perpetuality

My journey began, close to Iran

In a land, doused and caked with sand

Women and man, sold and enslaved, due to

Our families’ arrogant ways.

But alas’ it was great and must have been the smiling

Teeth of fate for Ur-Nammu to set solid rules in stone

That allowed the debts, to which we attone

But with less hardship than you think,

We’d sleep as much, plenty a wink.

Our health, insured, our contract, lawed.

Many of us has a good life, despite

The label of being from babel

 Funnily enough, millenniums later

Is where I stand, the stone

Tablets were no more,

instead we have those paper scores.

Coins of weak, pathetic metals, guns, knives

They’d never settle

To just accept their own amounted wealth

Instead they impair our fragile health

And take our wealth

Claiming to civilize, while keeping us

Of darker tones, and different bones

in zoos.

And breaking our mental institutes

Beating, brutally breaking the blacks,

Rendering us helpless to these attacks.

And of course he came, with a whip

Eyes glazed, breathing hastened,

I wish they didn’t touch my nation

 Centuries later, I see a hurst

So this is what they call the 21st?

The old ways have recently been rejected

But it doesn’t mean society isn’t both

Affected and Effected,

Now children are neglected

Born in a home with a single Mum

Too pumped up on dope to raise her son

And the deadbeat Dad, who started it all

By going through with that druggy haul

He’s locked up now, and his wife is too

Imprisoned with the issues

She cannot slew

So she takes his supply

And overdosed tonight

And he took that knife

Before he took his life.  

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

The Lack of Choice

Born into a world quite similar to hell,

An everyday survival turned out to be turmoil

Pulled back to reality, in a deceptive revival

Dreams to be free, of a society so spiteful

  The lady of the night, who lives in fright

“Is it this night, that’ll be my last?”

They’ll never open up and show her past

Of which there is little, moved along quite fast.

 She’s young, so very, very young

But she’s been trained bite her tongue

To shut off all feelings, any inkling of hope

To men, wealthy as the pope

 As she travelled, forced at that; a downward slope

Slipping and sliding along the floor of life..

Stripped of any and all rights

Any physical power she’d have to fight

 If she’d been born in the west

Could be said, her situation best?

Lest her bones be broken, stomach shift

Fingers run against these cryptic hieroglyphs

 The Egyptian Gulf of knowledge,

That we love to take for granted

If only she’d be granted some passage

From the cruel, crude world

 That forces her down,

Tears her smiles into frowns

Paints her skin, a few shades darker

Than brown

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

Regret

Regret is a debt on your conscious

And on your soul

It’s stops you from going on,

To achieve your goal

  Hesitance is stupid and

Generally just useless

 Don’t ruin your chances

By searching nowhere for answers

 Your success relies on you

And how much I despise it…

That’s the truth

 Something I’ll never come to know

In my youth

 Life is a game

It’s based on how you play it

 “Oh, but it’s my life”

Don’t matter how you say it

 I neglect

Because I regret

 Join in on the should’ve beens,

Could’ve beens and would’ve beens

  Only because I’m ruining my own dreams -

It seems,

By the end of it;

It’s all on me

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

Free Will

So we have free will.

The will to kill and steal

The will that bastardised

and breeds this evil deal

 The will to cause the

Steal and kill

So they can afford

To pop the pills

 It’s real, this will that

Fills the reel inside the head

Of the washed-up fed

Reeling in, clutch that thing

 A crutch to always make you

win

 If free wills a pill

then what’s the pill that

Takes away the will

 The will to live

The will to sin

The will to love

The will to win

 Toss those ambitions in

The bin

It’s fine, all dreams

Lay therein

 But then again,

I’ve lost my will,

My dreams,

The themes of life

Will never assist

In dealing with the

Cyst of strife

So maybe we should

Take this will

And stop the kill

Feed the baby

Dispose of pills

 Seal away

The hate and rape

The ruined fate

With nothing but

A strand of tape

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

The Criminal Justice System

Let me tell you a tale

Not that of fairies told by the frail

Not one that drags on like a snail

 One about a dark-skinned young boy

Whose life was destroyed

 You see, he dwelled with his mother,

In a town where brother killed brother

His imprisonment

The prequel to his legacy;

 A legacy of poverty, crime,

Punishment down to the spine

His emotions, fill every line

 Every line in a penitentiary

Lookin’ like an assembly

 Of assorted subhuman

Scum.

 What could he have done?

 One day, he ran

Around his home

 Tidying and cleaning

What he could,

Did all what his mother

 Said he should, upon relaxing

Sitting on the porch

 Playing with a tennis ball,

Bounced up

and down

From the corner of his eye

He saw a frown

 Of a large white man,

Known as a fed

Assumed the kid

Was drunk on meds

Drugs, narcotics;

“That’s all we ever find

In those black’s pockets”

 He approached the kid, baton at hand

“We really only want these niggers to leave our land”

 The thought reverbed through his mind

If he had any sense surely he’d find

 Some logic in that they were only

Perpetually

    Feeding

        Them

                                    Lies

 From a high horse

Didn’t look towards the general cause

And effect

Of early socialisation

 Because it’s normal to enslave a nation

And force them to struggle for freedom

and once they get it?

 Be jealous and set it alight,

That’s why Black Wall Street was burnt that night

The race hate groups conjured up a frightful sight

Infringement of the many black’s lawful rights

Given no chance to fight.

Because these milksops came and attacked

At night.

 And of course, six thousand blacks were

Arrested

For attempting to protect

What their families invested

 But how come only thirty

Perpetrators of this crime

Were charged and caught

When there was thousands upon

Damaging a wealth driven black

Community

Hanging blacks as if they had

Committed mutiny

Dissolving years of progress

And leaving ten-thousand

homeless

 And the kid, of whom committed no crime

But he was beaten, bruised,

Clothes ripped as if society had a screw loose

 To treat this race as a vermin

And constantly be trying to hurt ’em

 The kid was forced to do jail-time

For a notion that was never set

In motion

 He’s grown up now, a man at that

Hardened by the beatings when he

Bought that crack

 Or the time,

He chose,

To steal that smack

 It’s sad, he had fifteen

When he had barely scratched the surface

Of his teens

 Now he’s filled up with a haze

Built upon rage

For those that threw him into

This disposition

Too bad he’ll be imprisoned

When he’s lost his greys

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

Future, Past by Me

Hey, I know it’s insane

To think that we could have made

This much of a change to

The physical plane

Of our brain

But don’t let what they say

Weigh you down like a chain

Of unimaginable pain

 When they tell you you’re less

And you cannot attain

Tell them to shove it

They don’t hold the same brain

 Keep drawing those figures

And writing those lyrics

Even though, it sucks to say

You were never good at physics

  And why call these lyrics? When

You’re not making a song

I know it’s not wrong

They assumed you stupid

 Due to the lucid aspirations

(to become a bestselling

Author, like Rahl Dahl)

You’ve held close to your heart

 Don’t worry; I’m still trying to carry on

Although I carry the burden of constantly,

Consistently doing stuff wrong

  Study for a future so bleak at this point

I only now wish

You didn’t act like a goldfish

And pretend to forget

What you was set

  Obstacles are set

In your path

You have to leap over those

Hurdles

In my past

 Stop stealin’ from shops

I know it’s just sweets

But by the time you’re done

You’ll realise it wasn’t right

Not fun

 Keep your head in those books

I know, you hate how it looks

 Weird shapes snaking around

Slicing down

To create numbers on a page

That would always fill you

With unbridled rage

 Don’t constantly be playing games

No matter how much you wanna beat

That stage

 You’re destined for some greatness

Depending on how exactly

You decide to shape it

 You have to take it with both hands

Don’t expect it to float down and land

 Grab, snatch at every chance to catch

Or get anywhere

Remotely near

Where you

Would like to

 Be

There’s no one holding you back but me

So why don’t you try saving up that wealth?

In the long-run it’ll produce you good

For your health

 Stop filling that shelf

With stuff not needed

Almost unwanted

You can't read it

 Can't collect knowledge

From those product,

Products of evolution

Exclusion

 I know you think you're half

‘n’ half

 But you was probably royalty once

So as you age lose that frame of the

Dickhead dunce

 Dismiss those stupid runts

That run their gums

Looking to start something up

Like a spark on a faggot (not a homo

The type of thing they used for medieval

loco-motives)

 And I know it’s seemingly hopeless

Trying to talk to you

Like I’m some sorta’ Mary Sue

 So screw you; if you didn’t do

What I’ve always told you to do

 Because we’re the same and we can

Only have the same blame to place

Like the world and the planes

Through two blocks

 Why don’t you instead;

Invest in stocks?

Or try discovering New types of rocks

Slots in which your words should mean

To mean something meaningful

To me!

 Don’t you see? You’re the brightest

Part of me

 Because no one has seen

what you can see

No one can be

what you can be

 And I wanna look up to you

Thankfully, happily

Like some sort of parents

As I smile and mutter the words

“I’m proud of me..”

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

Let Me Tell You a Story

Once upon a time

In an era, sublime

There was a boy,

He went outside to play with his toys

 A daily occurrence, was this

For the whole of his life

He had lived in eternal bliss

 His parents did all they could

taught him what they should

 He lived in a house

Made mostly of wood.

 Son of farmers, like most in the village

But one day

Marauders came to pillage

 Senseless sinners and killers

The aliens came out as the winners

 Killed the men, enslaved the women

Brought up the children to fill the ranks

Of their men.

 Years pass, day turns to night

Each hour bringing along a burning fright

 The boy became a teen

With a constant craving to fill his spleen

Quench the thirst he had for revenge

 By robbing the institutions

Little did he know,

It was only to their amusement

 Running ‘round in the brisk, anguish of night

In his heart, an eternal light

Made to bring him to fight with all his might

against the unfortunate Blight.

 One day

He went to slay the filth

That took it all away

 A pilgrimage of blood and hate

A grimace upon his face

 The task at hand

For none but him to stand

This hate had spanned

For eons along the land

 It seems to just be fate

For when he came to cross paths

He learnt they had always been laying

In wait

 You see, they had premeditated

That this child or any child

would crawl from the clutches of enslavement

And attempt to bring about some stupid

socialist movement

 These socialists could never stand

Where those marauders could,

Never do

As they would,

Never think

What they should.

 The boy came across the first of his trials

In order to drive away the idle idols

 Upon his brow was a bead of sweat

And a man with a sword and net

 “Choose thy weapon” he said in jest

And so he chose

 Gripping the sword, the blade by it’s handle

Raising it up like a warrior

Proceeding to swing it

                                               Beheading the courier

Blood dripped along the handle

Went as far to stain his sandals

 He went on; his murderous quest

To beat and best the beasts that rest

Within that fortress, built upon death

Murder, Rape and Pillage

 The boy galloped along such a scrimmage,

 But as he came to one final bout

His presentation; that of a bloodied lout

 He was stricken with fear and deep confusion

As if this whole thing was just an illusion

Limbs stretching across the land

His mother’s head held in his hand

 The last challenge was but a mirror

In which he found he was no better

Than the filthy,

Murderous,

Wretched

Sinners.

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

Worries

I worry ‘bout my life,

Future, past and present

Whether or not there really even exists

A Heaven

 Whether God, the Devil, etcetera exists

Or is it just a set of problems

I add to the list?

Will I succeed-

Or fail?

End up in jail?

Or just continue to drive the nail

 The nail of life

In which even I feel in strife

Despite this I can’t help but accept my life

Because;

 At least I still have a life

With friends, family and people to care about.

 Although, regardless I proceed to behave like

A lout,

 Will it get harder or will get easier?

I’m trying to fit the needs of the mainstream media

 Will I find love, or just die alone?

I guess everyone’s brain,

That thought is prone

To hope you don’t die with nought left behind

 To hope you don’t die

Without having known

How it felt

To not always be alone

 We clone behaviours

We see outside

Even if we have to lie

 There’s so much I want to do

But so little time

I hate the fact that all I can do is

Rhyme

 Will these rhymes be more than

Words on a page?

 Will they somehow assist

In bringing a new age?

 Will they matter when I’m gone?

Be turned to a song?

Explaining how I didn’t go for

Something I longed.

 Will my stories be heard?

Will my words be learnt?

 Will anything I do

Change the world?

 For better or for worse

When I spontaneously

Release these verbs

In the form of words

Sliding down the twisted slope

Of every single verse

 Are having these worries

Something normal?

Will regretting the stuff I’ve done

Come back to haunt me?

But surely, we’ll all see

What comes to fruition

So long as we hold down the

Ignition

 On this road-trip down a mountain

Aptly named life

Frequently stolen by a sharpened

Knife

So sure, I like life

I’m not living in strife;

Have a roof over my head

Not being oppressed

 But I doubt I should rest

When I don’t try my best

I guess it’s because I don’t wanna be like the rest

 When I leave the nest

I’ll be the best -

Master my craft

To ensure I don’t leave behind

A shallow past

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

Coal-Black Heart

The conquest of the earth

which mostly means taking it away

from people with different coloured skin

or flatter noses

is not a pretty thing

Was said by a man

Struggling with his brethren

To show the land

What he had learnt

Back in the Congo

 The Heart of Darkness

Or the heart of arctic

The stone cold killers

Of the dirt brown niggers

 Build a plantation,

Enslave a nation

Of savages

That don’t even know how to fight back

 When the whites pull up those straps

Beat, rape, abuse and use

How come it’s only now come to news?

 The oppression and aggression

Blamed on their regression

We’re civilizing them!

By breaking their men

And beatin’ their hen

 Show them

They’re the lesser men.

 Sure, that time’s come and gone

Like Leopold’s rule

That lasted so long

 And no one disputes it was all

But wrong.

   Back before this time

Somewhere along

The 19th century

 J. Marion Sims

Went on a whim

Abused the place of those

Without wings

 Performed surgery

A complete perjury

Of the hippocratic oath

 Thirty-Four surgeries

With no anaesthetic

Heard the screams of the women

So pathetic

 Three poor women

Would’ve been better

In a penitentiary

 Than be abused and left broken

Physically and psychologically

By the father

Of gynecology

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

Gift

They call life a gift

Therefore to cause some strife

And take that life must be a punishment

Or maybe it's just retracting the gift of life

Subtracting one from the equation of seven point four

Billion

Allegedly one per second

Who’s next? What do you reckon?

 If life’s a gift then why do people commit

It doesn’t seem at all legit

 If you give the gift of life

Why do people live in strife

Live their life wanting only to die?

 So, could you argue life is a punishment?

And death; a gift?

Because it allows you to finally lift

From the dirty depths of this earth

To some unknown future we long for

“Accept the circumstances, it’ll all be better,

Pray we’ll all reach the eternal begetter”

 Or live without accepting rules

Ensure you’re known as wild as fools

But when you die you’ll just be heathen

“You didn’t pray” that’s the reason

The moment that you leave this earth

You’re going straight to God’s hearth

 Ashes to ashes, dust to dust

Fuck that, I’d rather rust

Become a delusional old man

Disillusioned from the lies the feed

They think society really needs

 If life was given by the saviour

Why do failures still breed danger

Criminals creating kids

Building up the statistics

 Hitting headlines quicker than a bullet

Through the skull of the congolese

Who prayed to god, on their knees

Pleading, praying “Oh god please!

Release me from this malevolent disease”

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

Black Lives Matter

Black lives matter

What about that?

That shit seems whack!

Have you just forgot about

Black on black?

 Racism is rampant

So is ignorance

I don’t own a gun

So I can only really buss’ this

Rhythmic murder

Don’t fuss with kids and lurkers

 Educate yourself

Before you discriminate yourself

Interrogate yourself

Before you hate yourself

 Don’t talk bollocks about fixing society

When you can’t even look at your own kind

Without thinking ‘bout ‘im

Blowing your mind

 This retardation is widespread

Throughout the Nations

There ain’t no plantations and

 It’s not a black and white thing

Nor black on white thing

It’s a fight for what’s right thing

 And what’s not right

Is blaming all qualms on the whites

And believing that’s right

 So yeah, I’m hitting close to home

Because most of what I’m sayin’

Is barely known

 We throw around the word “nigga”

But know not of its origin

Rap about bussin’ straps

Getting paid

Getting laid

But won’t learn how to

Perform first aid

 Reppin’ ends,

Frontin’ for friends

Scheming for the pathetic

Unattainable benz

 Yes, I’m half coon

But you won’t catch me runnin’

‘Round noon, runnin’ my gums

Runnin’ from guns

Hiding from feds,

Nor slamming down “meds”

 Black lives matter!

Why does race even matter

Aren’t all humans made out of

Similar matter

 Don’t we all have the capacity

To prove that we matter?

 Your cause is lost

You want superiority

Don’t talk like you’re oppressed

Because you got more authority

Than those in Korea, under that fatass

Mug

And those in Palastine, Israel

Africa or even those kids

Sold and drugged

 You’re entitled and ignorant,

That’s all there is

You’re fighting for idol

And still in denial

 So we’re different

But be considerate

Of the fact

That

All lives matter

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

Dust

Ashes to ashes dust to dust

                                                  Did you know metal can rust?

  The barrel, mine, man fighting for a land

Was it his land in which he made his last stand?

 They say “don’t reprimand the man with no hand,

Who went out to fight for a land belonging to no man”

 An eye for an eye means we’ll both blind

Especially when the so-called “heroes” die.

 They lie, scheme and speak like the queen

Bourgeoisie, not me- I have no dreams.

 It seems, that when we scream

There’s nothing it means.

 Except for the very

                               Steep

                                         Cycle to repeat

[assonance-n-dissonance-blog]

Theatre

Life is like a play,

We work and pray everyday

The stage is set

But the parts we get

Can never be more than we want

 We educate, discriminate, interrogate, accentuate

The differences we love to hate

Love to make and

Love to break

 The race hate upon your mate

You pray for them to incriminate

 So what of the Ten Commandments?

Set in stone like a child’s broken bones

Crushed by society, split by expectations in this

God forsaken Nation

 From those Congo's to Haitians

We had to enslave them

We claim that they’re Pagans

 Outlaw education to those of that Nation

So they can’t overthrow us,

Nor get to know us

 Slavery’s abolished? Yeah right

We still got prisons,

Force inmates to work for us

Boost the economy,

keep those filthy blacks

Living in poverty 

Excluded from society in a world so cold

It would probably be better if they were just

Sold

 The Bourgeoisie, c’mon take my P

You see there’s more than enough

For You and Me

  Taxation’s a bitch, tryna’ stop me savin’

It’s obvious and blatant

 And I’m quite astonished

I work so hard but Imma be honest

I’ll still be Impoverished after all I’ve accomplished

  So I’ll write these rhymes

And take my time

To help you realise

There’s nothing good inside

The rat race we ride

Throughout our lives

Life is like a play,

The everyday sets the stage

We lie in wait, for what we hate

But please, don’t forget

What we make.