"Thirsty"..a collab..Epiphany Castro and Honest Abe

Thirsty..

You’d sell your soul for a dollar

Trade in your morals for a glass of Hennessey

And like Marvin it makes me wanna holler

Watchin you tap-dance for the masses…the industry

Somebody should have schooled you in class…

Excrement masquerading as art

May buy you a temporary pass

But shyt does not last forever, and your azz

Merely becomes fertilizer to feed

What grows organically-food for the real creative trees

Caught up, bought up, but not up… to par

It was all for naught and yes that naught is you

Unaccounted on the census as a bastard of Massa's with glee

Even so, your adoption is clear

Dignity should runneth over from the brew you been sippin from

But you piss golden showers like R. Kelly on underage futures I don't wanna fathom

Elevation got lost in a sea of on demand coonery

The buffoonery will eventually evaporate

But Like the the price of real estate, your lackluster lack of ideals

Shall become the foundation beneath the soles of integrity

Stuck like gum to the heels-

Plummeting with every single breath you take

And every poor choice you make. Cause the choice was yours

An imposter you became…a muthafuckin fake

So Dance nigga dance…prance nigga prance

And don’t forget your pearls and blackface-

As you set back the entire race

500 years….plus

In exchange for a pocketful of small silver lined with puss

And a handful of tainted gold…

So thirsty… so very thirsty you are

But I ask you..What will make you whole?

I know your sac is somewhere dripping the manhood you left behind once

the auction block you had a helping hand to step on

looked too enticing to refuse;

A Fuse you lit with every Savion gloved move you took

Feel that burn in your throat...? Sure you do.

And love it!

Chug down the welcomed pain when thirsty enough...those

Kamikaze karma bullets you shoot from ya tongue and ya gun

are good for your "Rep" ain't they...?

There is a Johnson Chugging reality check birthed by you

That you need to come to terms with,

Just like your dick,

You stick your pride in the wrong hole

Be ready to come back with S.T.D.’s to add to those “D’s” you rolling on.

Congratulations Thirsty Sambo.

The hood continues to die slow from your bad drinking habits.

Epiphany Castro

Honest Abe

All Rights Reserved 2011

Tongue-Tastic Tale telling 101

This was a recent write Like some of my previous ones to some.But thought it was necessary.

My people realize a soothsayer has come
its dinner time when I hit a venue and microphones are my buffet
please fake poets take a seat, put ya pens away and have a nice day
This stage is sacred.

And I'm brooklyn's lost son
Grenadian rung into this concrete jungle school of hard knocks
Understand this verbal war hammer gets hot when it bangs and cocks back
on poetic and so called "hip-hop" lyrical nonsense.
My WMC tool, Words of mass construction was made by my mother to school fools
I refuse to swallow your piss pools of mis-education spit by the likes of
soulja boy, Lil' wayne, and there's just too damn many to name all of you in this poem.

So I've dedicated my work to drop times bombs in order for you to desegregate
your ignorant present from the past gifts of pain of our history.
Now pull up a chair and prepare to be edutained.
See my words are spit to nudge and budge you
refresh the corrosion scented frakincense and myrrh clouding your sights
spit right not like the useless fecies escaping illiterate toilet bowl mouths
with nothing important to say.

Without truth in your lines, might as well be serving crowds snorted crack lines.
The bad kind, free your mind and
like me become dr. vocab, turning broken words into spoken words;
smoke them words,verbs,nouns pronouns, make metaphors your whores and use they asses. This is to pass lifes tests the best you can.
I'm told I could be the shepard to help lead my fellow sheep man from the pulpit of pain
change the poetic symphonies plaguing our nations hood.
But I tell them, i'm only one man is that understood..?
And yes so was clayton powell, malcom, james E, Garvey, ghandi, who left prolyfic remains these eye veins flow the blood stains of strife in my head.

Cursed blessings don't taste so sweet when a gift horse's reigns are tugged while you look it in the mouth. If false will and faith infect your pride...theres no way
a brotha like you can ride true stories like galloping horse man of the apacolypes or touch lives with God's pen. Thats how I'm able to skool you in tongue-tastic tale telling. theres no way sista like you will Ida B well souls, provoke lil loose girls to keep their keyholes below closed
make so called prospects use knowledge to open your mind instead of the tresure chest breast you possess.

And no, she ain't no bitch cause she won't slob ya knob "Gangster"
you just a nigga with no real job that got a problem
We are all students of life.
But for the lessons in this course, I'm the profesor.
And for the Issac New-Tons weighing your tongue's soul down,
I'll be the confessee and you the confessor.

Alliterated African proverb problems still torment
its nations youth core.
While Haitian schools implode to the floor
and cortex corrupted NYC & NJ can't take it no more.

Open your eyes and see!!
I'm sorry Ms. Brathwaite and Ms. Grant.
Your daughter and son shouldn't be dead.
One disected like a bio experiment,
the other shot in the back of the head!!!
With a reckless bullet that savored its job done well;
When I think the trigger man deserves to die and
I hope he burns in hell!!
But is it my place to wish ill will on my fellow man...?

So if you hope to make it...
Tongue-tastic lincoln logs should emancipate proclimation these
reservoirs of laws of change,
like Abraham and Barack
into a grandmother's life;
So go home tonite, and write. Impregnate sajourner in your truth.
Release the W.E.B. Du bois!
Then come back to me
with pen empty cause the conscious ink
poeticaly bled into the page and tear the damn roof off this stage!!
till then, don't you dare moan and piss about revolution
knowledge is the solution. Class dismissed!!