for lunch breakfast a break
from the incessant pull of what I’ve got to do,
but what is it I got to do, if not meant for me?
Just want to share my truth and bump this beat
and write poems that make your hearts skip.
This bears repeating every couple years, seems its fleeting.
My conviction solid when I’m fed, not depleting.
Pursuing more than images, this is breathing.
This is hip hop, arts and culture as the world flops,
commenting on more than message boards of mind-full hoards
trying to meditate, and I’ve been saved.
5 minutes everyday work miracles like naivete.
It’ll all work out – that’s what we’ve got to say, but I’m from the school
where its ok to throw rules out if there’s clout, principles to shout or demonstrate,
counteraction to exist, not just to stay.
I’m starving. Who’s ready to penetrate
these walls who’s ready to overturn these brawls into a better state?
Defined by basic needs met like fruit bowls over microwave.
Nix mind control – we need to cultivate.
Voting this year?
Mind over matter but you don’t matter?
That’s a scandal insinuated by hopeless digestion survival in question
but some hierarchy of needs been stuck on systems.
Our higher beings been reminiscing
and I’m reaching for a plate in this discussion.
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