It’s one of those things
When you really don’t know what you want
When you try to stay out of the game and watch from the sidelines, but you can’t
When relationships ****
But companionship makes sense
When every person you’re with is amazing and intense
But not enough
Something’s missing
When you’re tired of the monotony
When you’re just done
When there are a lot of choices
But you choose none
Because it’s all the same… what happened to uniqueness?
What happened to that mushy feeling?
We’ve become robots, no feelings, emotions peeling
We can’t differentiate between what we do and what we want
We’ve become a heartless people
But I have faith… a little
That our level of heartlessness varies
We’re not that equal
So for some of us there’s still hope
And for the rest it’s a slippery *****
Downhill…
When you realize how far down you have gotten
And stop trying to grasp onto stuff
I’ll meet you at the bottom.

This is the story of a man
The story of a brilliant man
Most men would call him a resilient man
A man of principle and logic
A man who’s principles may defy logic
A man from whom come words with magic
And illusion
The illusion is the man
The illusion is a brilliant man
The illusion would make him appear a resilient man
The illusion of principle and logic
The illusion of principles that appear to defy logic
The illusion is this ‘brilliant man’s’ magic
And deceit
This deceit that is the illusion of the man
This deceit that is the illusion of the man’s brilliance
Of his resilience
Of his principle
Of his logic
The deceit of his principles that apparently defy all levels of logic… that seem to be a notch above our regular reasoning
The deceit of his oratory magic that enthralls us all
Day in, day out
Season out, season in
You know who I’m talking about…
That politician that fooled us for too long, and very soon, will be on his way out.

I just want to say thank you
Thanks
Thanks to all those people that never gave up on me when I almost gave up on myself
Thanks to all those that offered a helping hand, you will always deserve my help
If you will ever need it
This piece you will know is about you… yes you
My friend, my ‘fan’… no one else will ever read it
When I write for you I do not just write, this piece I breathe it… I bleed it
That sort of support and faith in me from you… I realize now, I need it
Thank you
Thanks
You who pulled me aside at the bar… and said “I have never heard a doper rapper thus far”
You who said “That poem I read… the one you wrote, killed me dead”
You… my friend, are the reason I keep my head above water
The reason I don’t drown… word to my mother…
To my unborn son… to my unborn daughter
The number of times I thought ‘I’m done’
Then in the midst of a dark spell, a ray of hope, a light
A bit of sun
I am not a vampire so I step into it… I don’t burn
I allow that support to teach me, allow myself to learn
We all have at one point or another, danced with the devil
And tripped
But with your trampoline-like support, I bounce back
Yes
You show me, make me realize
I am more than well equipped.

This is not meant to rhyme
But I find that when I write it flows every single time
The last time I was on stage... there were issues
I thought hard about it, 'Is hip hop something we were destined to do... or is it something that we choose?'
Then it hit me after a period of insecurity
My confidence is the only thing I need to surround myself with, I should keep it 'in security'
This thing flows in my veins blood, so I need to get it in with purity
Talent in its rawest form... way above the norm
It's a gift I need to use
A gift I can't refuse
Deny it is something that I can't do... even if I want to
There is no other way around it
No other way to go about it
I had a bad experience... well...
I could either be a ***** about it...
Or meet this doubtful phase with some mad resilience
Because no one can sound like I do
No one can do what I do
I need to...
Tighten up my belly bump, pull on this belt around my waist
Confidence is the only raw ingredient upon which what I do is based
This ship has always been afloat, who am I to sink it?
Bizill the rapper/poet/artist was meant to do this for a reason
Who am I to over-think it?

Okay
I know… I know
I know that I hurt her… and she isn’t the first
She wants me and I want her
And this feels different from lust
But I know that I hurt her…
Broken heart reattached?
Can that happen? And if so… Can I stop being so detached?
I’m really not sure, I have tried that before
I don’t see myself getting over this bad habit in a hurry… not that fast
Sadly, not that fast... if I do it will be slow
It’s as a result of everything… The future, the present, the past
Still I know that I’ve hurt her… oh, believe me I know
She doesn’t deserve this, she cares… but she’s not the first girl I happen to have made tear before
But it’s kind of unfair too for me to be stuck in between…
“Are you going to play this macho *******? Do you want to be alone?”… And “Are you going to let me in?”
Sometimes you see, I hurt too… In fact one could say I’m pain prone
But I have my process, which usually involves being alone
It’s just what I’m about
It’s just how I was built
I’m not trying to shut her out, or to haunt her with guilt
I’m emotionally damaged; numb… a lot of nerve endings killed
Understand
It’s not pity I want; it’s in the past see
The milk has already been spilled.

Totally awesome speech
Makes me smile
Totally ruthless words
Crack me up
If you agree with this fact, come on then… back me up
Those amazing phrases in a movie that made you want to yell ‘PREACH!’
Words that leave you lost for words
When you’re on your own… glued to the screen and you guffaw
Just laugh aloud… and that’s allowed
That dumb **** that made you almost crap your pants
“A flaming tiger with wings! Dude! That’s like Chinese for shut the f*ck up and dance!”
Heard that in a stupid flick
It didn’t even take it’s time before tickling the **** of me
This film just begun… then started to get stupid quick
And there were no mufflers… the curses flowed freely
I loved it!
Pretentious people going “Awww c’mon now… dude this is sick!”
Ummm… for you maybe
I have an open minded sense of humour
The notion...
That one cannot just simply make a joke about a dead baby
I may agree with… maybe
But I cracked up at the one where the wife says… “I’m taking time off because I’m pregnant.”
And the Dictator replies “That’s great! So, are you having a boy… or an abortion?”
If you're the touchy type
Kindly refrain yourself from taking offense and getting all welled up with emotion.

Maximize the minimum
A Rasta man told me
So I opened my eyes and saw me some...
Truth… and tapped into the bold me
Allowed the truth to hold me
Scared is something that I won’t be
I refuse it
I have to work this skill
This music
Make it work and use it
Roots that support this growing tree
This to me is poetry
I will write
I will sing
To the best of my ability
And in future you will see me son
Maximizing my minimum
I can’t stay stagnant
I can’t
I will take from this world whatever it is I want
I will be amazing
Step into this battle guns blazing
And if I face closed doors
I will find alternative ways in
I may not be a ‘proper’ fellow
But I do put on a charming smile… and win them over from the moment I say ‘hello’
So I’m using these little attributes to my advantage
To come out ahead… on top… superior
Point?
Vantage.

Hashtag:weirddreams
In a dream I looked upon a world like this;
The future was here. It was today. It was now and
the wings on birds had malted, and
the atmosphere was spent.
Spent, because currency had proven
worthless.  
Hashtag:firstworldprobs
(piles
on top of
piles of    washingtonsjeffersonsandgrants    now sat        
                                    stagnant,    Hash­tag:getmoney            
devalued over time by the American glutton who had paved our roads with imported plastic,
cheap polymers to build empires quickly, since we were so young with so little history so little culture and so little ritual. Hashtag:omgsoboring.
We played catch-up
by simply investing very little effort,
and paying very little respect,

With expectations of getting really *******
Big).  Hashtag:sorrynotsorry
Which didn’t end up working. Hashtag:whoops

And so then we just burned up all that money, quite literally, ignited by the last few drops of oil we could manage to squeeze from Earth’s stones.
And its smoke, smelling faintly of our forefathers’ intentions, turned the turbines for our televisions and deep fryers while we sat and felt ourselves getting smaller and smaller.

Then I woke up, and realized it was only a dream.  

Hashtag:

You like to say:

"I get baby guts
in the morning."

This means
you're not going to be drinking
for awhile.

I hold your hair
while you puke.

And you bring me Tums
and ginger ale,
as I hemorrhage
stomach acid
in the perfect acoustics
of porcelain.

You awaken in the cardboard box
That you refer to as your home
The dawn is barely breaking
And already you feel alone

A *****’s bath in a public restroom
Then you’re ready to start your day
Layers of stage makeup hide the wounds
Of the lead in this lack of morality play

First up is the sadistic businessman
He knows the drugs you need
But it comes with one condition
That he gets to see you bleed

With his one hand around your throat
And the other grabbing your breast
He takes whatever looks good
And leaves you with the rest

You straighten out your dress
And try to wipe yourself clean
You’re helped back to your feet
By a schoolboy of age seventeen

He's skipped his classes for the day
And borrowed his mother's van
Now he’ll gladly pay your fee
If you'll make him into a man

It’s all over before it begins
A symptom he can't control
You can barely feel it anyway
Numb in both body and soul

At night you meet your ****
And give the devil his due
You willingly submit to him
As he runs you through

You retreat to the cardboard box
That you refer to as your home
The moon is heavy in the sky
And you can finally be alone

Your lips wrap around the pipe
The smoke molests your lungs
And slowly you begin to forget
The world that you came from

You once dreamt of a white knight
That would come and take you away
Now seen as only vestiges
Of a young girl’s naiveté

Dignity is a memory
An illusion from your past
Like pleasure or happiness
A feeling you could never grasp

You once thought you’d hit rock bottom
But there was so much further left to fall
You were filled with unknown fears
But now you’ve named them all

Add up the rocks they pay
As you break their last taboo
And the secrets that they share
When they’re deep inside of you

A normal person would go insane
But your body is no longer yours
Are you less than human now?
One of a thousand nameless ******

You wonder if they see a woman
Or just another object on her knees
You could show them who you really are
But that’s not what they pay you to be