The No Name Poet

I am but a mere poet, wielding our greatest gifts as humans: words.

Where I’m From

Where I’m from everyone is poor
Where I’m from there’s pink slips on doors
There are no jobs so young kids rob
Or they starve while their mothers sob
Because their moms can’t get them food
They’re unemployed and in a shitty mood
It’s not a place you’ll see in a magazine
Though there’s lots of loading of magazines
By crack fiends who are getting paid
Worried about the money they become less sane
Then they get thrown in jail because they didn’t want to starve
Instead of making jobs they bring suburban police to patrol sidewalks
We can’t afford college, clothes or food
It makes us think “What the hell can we do”

But this hostility has shaped me
It’s made me strong, see
I’m used to pressure, I’m used to hunger
These rich kids think less than restaurant is a struggle
And can’t handle failure breathing down their neck
When I’ve guns on my neck and I’ve had to protect
My ability to take a breath so this is nothing new
To those telling me I’ll fail here’s a big fuck you
The city taught me who I am and how not to back down
So bring it on grad school I’m ready for the next round

Criminal Tendencies

Criminal tendencies prodding me to go sell snow
Not because I want to, but that’s just all I used to know
Stand on the streets and stay on my grind
Watch out for that cop or you’ll do hard time
Now I’ve made it to college what the fuck do I do?
All these rules and bullshit it’s made me confused
The rules in the hood are simple but here,
Tuition and grades, I can’t even buy beer
This is supposed to be better but I’m still poor
I’m making less money but have to work more
It makes me wonder who’s really to blame
For these criminal tendencies I have in my brain

Coffee as a Friend

Coffee is my friend, it helps keep me awake until the end
Of the day because I’m short on sleep, but with coffee I can
Pay attention and skip a nap and put up with all this college crap
Coffee keeps me from academic mishaps and for this deserves you to clap.

Inspirational Crying

One too many deaths, I can’t even feel the pain
I’ve gotten used to funerals am I insane
I no longer cry I don’t know how
I try to feel something but that’s not allowed
An adaptation for survival made in my brain
So all this hurt I don’t have to retain
It makes me move on with all this loss
In theory, my brain is a strict but fair boss
Being strict but necessary, it makes perfect sense
But in real life it can’t always keep up this defense
I guess it gets tired as I start to cry, seeing the lost is what I desire
My mind has lost control, this poetry is what my tears have inspired.

I Don’t Want to Get In Line

I lie in my bed tonight with nowhere to go
I’m failing classes left and right, I just don’t know
Maybe I’m just not smart enough maybe my best
Isn’t good enough. Maybe I’m distracted by politically unrest
When I write is when I’m at my best that’s who I am
But here they want my essays to have answers if they
Even let me write at all then get surprised when I’m not right or so they say
What ever happened to paper that simply posed a question
Leaving minds open to the power of suggestion
To create their own beliefs instead of conforming with choice
How does that educate anyone? How does that help me form my voice?
But I guess that doesn’t matter. Because you have to be paid to be heard
Kids in the hood have to sell drugs and rap because no one listens to their hurt
Just know I hear you and know what it’s like
It’s no way for a human to live their life
Question your self-worth every single night
Wondering if it’s finally time to use your knife
I went to college expecting stop wanting suicide
But there’s just as much pressure on these grades of mine
People crying in the exams and hyper ventilating
No wonder people would rather do keg stands
Because I’m all for hard work and don’t complain
But the standards we have set are fucking insane
Fill this dot to prove that your smart
No. Do not write.  There is no career for art.
No more creative thinking get in line
This isn’t what I’d call living life.

Let’s End Racism

Black lives matter! Listen to our chant
Shut the fuck up and stop your political dance
This movement is real and not something you can avoid
This fight for equality cannot be detroyed
Because we’re woke, we’ve seen one too many die
Now we are finally fed up with your lies
Try as you might we won’t be qwelled
Until unarmed black people aren’t lying in the street surrounded by shells
You tried to time that announcement just right
Just before the holidays like New Year’s and Christmas night
You hoped we’d forget but now we’ll teach you to regret
The racism you’ve imposed on society since God knows when

Dear Jesus

Dear Jesus, You haven’t heard from me in quite some time
I mean sure I go to Church and You occasionally pop into my mind
Admittedly, I haven’t been behaving my best
And have plenty of things I should confess
But that’s not why I’m here tonight
I’m here because I caught a glimpse of Your light
Through the beautiful art people make in Your name
It took me back to the days where Your name stirred up a flame
Deep in my soul, and I let You have control
Of my life but since that time I have strayed
I can hear You in the distance shouting for me
You know, like in that story about the shepherd and the sheep
I’m not close to back yet but I want to say
For going so far off path, Jesus I’m sorry.

Fake Bitch (Iggy Diss)

Iggy Iggy what’s that sound
That sound when you pretend that your town
Wasn’t Sydney, Australia but in your songs
That accent you using bitch what’s wrong
Did Young Money change your voice, nah you changed by choice
Your voice is as fake as your ass but stop pretending you’re a ghetto rapper from Detroit
Stop pretending you’re Little Kim or Nicki Minaj hell there’s a better rapper than you named Raj
He works as customer support and smokes blunts in his garage
But if you were just a shitty “rapper”, I’d leave you alone
Because there’s lots of those screaming baking soda on my radio
But if you look at your twitter you find you’re even worse
Then the shit you call rap when fake voice spits a verse

Poor Until I Die

Everyone around me always seems to die and I wonder why
I’ve gotten so used to loss I’ve forgotten how to cry
It made me chronically depressed and I get all of this lovely college stress
I’m all alone. I don’t know how long I can go on living like this
Lord knows I’ve tried to be a guy who doesn’t just steal and lie
But I’m poor so I get drunk and do what I have to to get by
Then my friend turns on his TV and, watching, I realize
The world doesn’t want to help me, I’ll be poor until the day I die.

Will I Survive

Always working, never have enough time
To maybe eat or really remotely enjoy life
Then I have my mind filling me with bad thoughts
Like how one day I’ll have to watch my mother go in the ground
And I’ll have to move on with my life
How will I react? Will I survive?
It makes me not even want to find out
It makes me so miserable that I scream and shout
But it makes no noise.
So I sit quietly frozen in my poise
Empty. Unable to even feel the pain
I try to prod the feelings out with unhappy refrains
In the music because I’d rather cry than feel like this
Because when I’m numb I don’t even think I exist.


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