12.26.2010
12.21.2010
I Am Inspiration
Life is where I receive my inspiration.
I start with an entire block and inspire a nation.
At a young age I started receiving standing ovations.
Shooting under par but constant underrated.
I find my placement by exploring like Lewis and Clark.
If there is 25 lighters on the dresser, I snatch one and I spark.
This form of art, I dissect it and put it back together piece by piece and part by part.
My horizon stretches like elastic, drastic material; igniting the heart via the earlobe.
I stroll like morning walks.
I talk a talk, walk the walk and then walk off.
My inspirational, motivational, verbally orgasmic spasms disperse like patters of a kaleidoscopes.
Higher than a weed smokers 1st, 2nd, and 3rd toke.
I am that crack distributed out of the back of the project traps,
AKA this negro been dope.
I am, cooler than windy city breezes, please believe that it is Steven.
I am, playing fair with no worries or care and I'll bless you when you are sneezing.
My style is athletic hoodstars hoppin' fences.
Dropping astounding nouns, pronouns, adjectives and metaphorical sentences,
I am into this.
Never prostituting my life.
My wife is nice and she communicates on contact. On sight.
But as this fight starts to become more beautiful.
The smart may turn stupid and the stupid may turn into intellectuals.
This is 6 Degrees of Separation connected with 3rd World nations and poverty lines.
Human minds, trafficked like rush hour traffic lines.
There is no need for wrapping mine like a Christmas Gift.
The poetry makes love to the elements 7 day/week.
Giving it a sweet mistle toe Christmas kiss.
This is my love while I am awake and while I am asleep.
And if anybody ever tried to take this from me, they'd be living a lie.
Hiding behind a disguise and claiming that they know me.
I live by the motto of actions is empowered by words.
So if you say that you do what I do, it's best that you just show me.
When I say this is my inspiration I mean:
I am ready to battle like blazing saddles and I hope everyone has chosen their ammo.
I am in the forest in cammos ready to rattle and tattle.
Gatherin' up brain matter like protons and neutrons to atoms.
I hear many say that I opposites attract but sometimes that does not matter.
I feel like America is not yet the land of the free and the home of the brave.
Our minds are enslaved and the road of awareness and creativity must be repaved.
Because people walk around like they are scatter-brained and untamed.
Unknowledgeable to these systematic gymnastics that reveal the same.
What's my name? Fox! You can spell that with three letters.
I've never mettled with a Henrietta, Rosetta or Violetta.
I am a go-getter. A trend setter raised in the suburbs and the ghetto.
The telekinetic rhymes, often times are purely hypothetical.
I am electromagnetic, apologetic. Never sorrowful or horrible.
I am multi-national. Marketable with no obstacles.
I have developmental fundamentals in my mind-brain epicenter.
You could call this experimental, very essential, potent potential.
Often by big words are obsurd I just use hem to my ability.
Those not feeling me can close their eyes and picture me in serenity.
Without surrounds obscenities. I am tranquilly peaceful with an entity of amenities.
Incidentally, this would be instrumental without a beat.
Shoes are bare without your feel.
Spices are no good without the meat.
And winning is nothing without defeat.
But to these words I am, like black folk to watermelon
And you can ask any "Mary-Ellen" I am thorough like the Straight of Magellan.
I start with an entire block and inspire a nation.
At a young age I started receiving standing ovations.
Shooting under par but constant underrated.
I find my placement by exploring like Lewis and Clark.
If there is 25 lighters on the dresser, I snatch one and I spark.
This form of art, I dissect it and put it back together piece by piece and part by part.
My horizon stretches like elastic, drastic material; igniting the heart via the earlobe.
I stroll like morning walks.
I talk a talk, walk the walk and then walk off.
My inspirational, motivational, verbally orgasmic spasms disperse like patters of a kaleidoscopes.
Higher than a weed smokers 1st, 2nd, and 3rd toke.
I am that crack distributed out of the back of the project traps,
AKA this negro been dope.
I am, cooler than windy city breezes, please believe that it is Steven.
I am, playing fair with no worries or care and I'll bless you when you are sneezing.
My style is athletic hoodstars hoppin' fences.
Dropping astounding nouns, pronouns, adjectives and metaphorical sentences,
I am into this.
Never prostituting my life.
My wife is nice and she communicates on contact. On sight.
But as this fight starts to become more beautiful.
The smart may turn stupid and the stupid may turn into intellectuals.
This is 6 Degrees of Separation connected with 3rd World nations and poverty lines.
Human minds, trafficked like rush hour traffic lines.
There is no need for wrapping mine like a Christmas Gift.
The poetry makes love to the elements 7 day/week.
Giving it a sweet mistle toe Christmas kiss.
This is my love while I am awake and while I am asleep.
And if anybody ever tried to take this from me, they'd be living a lie.
Hiding behind a disguise and claiming that they know me.
I live by the motto of actions is empowered by words.
So if you say that you do what I do, it's best that you just show me.
When I say this is my inspiration I mean:
I am ready to battle like blazing saddles and I hope everyone has chosen their ammo.
I am in the forest in cammos ready to rattle and tattle.
Gatherin' up brain matter like protons and neutrons to atoms.
I hear many say that I opposites attract but sometimes that does not matter.
I feel like America is not yet the land of the free and the home of the brave.
Our minds are enslaved and the road of awareness and creativity must be repaved.
Because people walk around like they are scatter-brained and untamed.
Unknowledgeable to these systematic gymnastics that reveal the same.
What's my name? Fox! You can spell that with three letters.
I've never mettled with a Henrietta, Rosetta or Violetta.
I am a go-getter. A trend setter raised in the suburbs and the ghetto.
The telekinetic rhymes, often times are purely hypothetical.
I am electromagnetic, apologetic. Never sorrowful or horrible.
I am multi-national. Marketable with no obstacles.
I have developmental fundamentals in my mind-brain epicenter.
You could call this experimental, very essential, potent potential.
Often by big words are obsurd I just use hem to my ability.
Those not feeling me can close their eyes and picture me in serenity.
Without surrounds obscenities. I am tranquilly peaceful with an entity of amenities.
Incidentally, this would be instrumental without a beat.
Shoes are bare without your feel.
Spices are no good without the meat.
And winning is nothing without defeat.
But to these words I am, like black folk to watermelon
And you can ask any "Mary-Ellen" I am thorough like the Straight of Magellan.
12.18.2010
SKEWBY x EVERYDAY: THE PUREST MEMPHIS SO FAR...
I got this Skewby "Everday" on repeat right now as I post up by the living room window looking out at Bed-Stuy Brooklyn! I remember Sept 25th 2009 like it was yesterday.I almost moved back to Memphis because I felt so stressed out in NYC. I rode a Greyhound Bus back home, got into a debate with this young black woman yelling at her small child and ended up staying at my Mom's. I walked the city streets, riding the bus, visiting friends, eating Lenny' etc. (All of my favorite Memphis past times) I linked up with Ify and Logan Bradshaw and went with the flow to Downtown Memphis for Skewby's Mixtape Release Party.
I didn't know quite what to feel at first. I had mixed feelings about being back in the city and at that point no one really knew that I was gone and that I was back; temporarily. I liked that. As I was standing outside catching up with the folk, I was handed a mixtape. I graciously accepted it, put it in my pocket and kept it moving. "Another rapper from Memphis is trying to do his thing", I said to myself. I had to support it.
Honestly, I didn't know what was in store for me. As I made my way back to Brooklyn, pausing in Chicago O'Hare, I popped the mixtape into my computer and immediately was impressed. I had come to realize that the same hungry cats that were helping Skewby with his movement were the ones that I was building with on The University of Memphis Campus back in '06. Big shouts to Charlie White!
Tiime passed. I watched from afar. My high school homie is Skewby's Manager and the leader of 715 Management. Surpassing college, in a retograde like fashion, I appreciated that he had cats from my HS working with him too. I wouldn't be surprised if he had cats I knew from middle school in his crew.(Ha) I liked Skewb but didn't really feel his music that much. He was new to me. Being a poet/writer, I felt like I needed more. As the days turned into months and months turned into years, I continued to listen to Skewby and see his growth. He was doing his thang in a city that stereotypically supports a lower level of music culture. I could see that things were still the same in Memphis but Skewby and his team were staying consistent to their new and emerging music, (Real Rap, I call it.) but I still hadn't felt from him what I knew to be in my soul. As a hip hop student, I was searching for more. Then I caught wind of "Everyday" on DJBooth.net. Now I got these in-house Logitech Speakers on Memphis Hammer!
I soul had finally found the respect from a Native Memphis artist that it was seeking. Skewby is growing and that's what the world needs from this caliber of artist and his thorough team. Memphis has a new look. A new feel and it certainly is what it's gonna be "More or Less".
12.17.2010
Thoughts x The Blueprint for Negro Literature x Richard Wright
Lately, one of my favorite writers has been Richard Wright. I really like him because I see a lot of myself in him. Wright had no formal education growing up. He simply chose what he would do and did it. I remember one of the first books that I really got into! Black Boy it was! My doctor, at the time, took it to have a hard writing surface and never gave it back. I see now that I've yet to get over that tragedy and still haven't finished that book. I suppose that I just want it to linger a little longer. "Wright" now I am reading his essay, Blueprint for Negro Literature, due to the fact that I am really focusing on being a great writer. I picked this essay to pivot off of because I am a Negro; therefore I write Negro Literature. It just so happens that this Negro grew up differently and is not just confined to the Negro Culture. But to keep it real, that is my starting point! I feel like Wright's perspective in '37 is just as important now as it was then. I ask myself, "Who my age is really writing for our people! I mean, hip hop is doing us ok, but where is the literature that addresses real life issues. There is not much that has changed even though we have a half-Negro president! Simple issues that were made complex need to be re-simplified. Same ish! Different Toilet! With this said, I've dropped a link and a few quotes on "perspective" from the Mississippi Native. Food for Thought! You do the dishes!
Love, Peace, Literature, Art and Soul.
Mr. Fox
"Perspective is that part of a poem, novel, or play which writers never put directly upon paper, but which is sensed in every line of the work. It is that fixed point in intellectual space where writers stand to view the struggles, hopes, and sufferings of their people."
"Perspective is the frame in which the picture is hung; it is the invisible brake or accelerator upon the tempo of a poem; it is that part of a novel that is remembered long after the story is forgotten."
Perspective for Negro writers will come when they have looked and brooded so hard and long upon the harsh lot of their race and compared it with the hopes and struggles of minority peoples everywhere that the cold facts have begun to tell them something.
Love, Peace, Literature, Art and Soul.
Mr. Fox
"Perspective is that part of a poem, novel, or play which writers never put directly upon paper, but which is sensed in every line of the work. It is that fixed point in intellectual space where writers stand to view the struggles, hopes, and sufferings of their people."
"Perspective is the frame in which the picture is hung; it is the invisible brake or accelerator upon the tempo of a poem; it is that part of a novel that is remembered long after the story is forgotten."
Perspective for Negro writers will come when they have looked and brooded so hard and long upon the harsh lot of their race and compared it with the hopes and struggles of minority peoples everywhere that the cold facts have begun to tell them something.
12.16.2010
Brooklyn Bound M Train x 7:27 PM
I coasted from the back of the last to the second from last car.
Passing Kathy and her Pink Audio Earmuffs.
Through steel doors handled by yanking steel handles.
Illegally acrossing the threshold.
The black man now sitting next to me peered at me.
Hands; fingers intertwined.
Pinky ring shit upon right hand.
Trader Joe bag on lap.
He's suited in: Grey sweat shirt. White IPod earplugs.
His eyes closed as not to be in this world,
Because in this world, earplug listening pleasure is measured against nada.
Across from us sits a big ass grown kid.
Yankee fitted. Burgundy Nintendo DS--at best;
His 300+ pounds nesteled into denim.
Brown Bag. Nike ACG Winterboot Swag.
H'was (He was) once along. One man maintaining two seats spaces.
Yet, at Essex, a couple boarded.
He, found a place for his lady to sit,
But not before glancing at me.
Either he wanted me to get up or to teach me something?
He only taught.
The couple conversed. A Chuck Taylor of sorts.
Him standing. Umbrella in back left pocket....
Brown leather jacked hanging on to his broad shoulders.
Leaning against the carts back doors.
Best foot forward.
She sits.
Face as if, it's anticipating his next collection of words....
She's clutching a Big Bean Cook Book.
Gladly this cook took a seat,
Because Lord knows her hands will manifest recipes from this,
Lap and warm-arm cradled Bean Bible.
Survival coudl be complimented by rice----nice.
Adjacent to them, on the left,
Two men text.
One potbellied hippie....
Who sits quickly as the Marcy Avenue doors magnetize it's collecton of humans outwards....
Now....
He who was on the right of me is now on my left.
Dress shoes. Brown coordinated pinstripe trousers.
His body language affected by train movements as well as congruent cellular doings.
(This is Lorimer)
8 exit...7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1........
One purnt orange jacket Hispanic is left to stand at the door's edge.
Living.
Black work pants and boots....
Black plastic bag for his lunch-not-finished.
Gifts from friends of Spanish lineage or whatever boat floats;
This is a mechanical river running thru it.
Flushing is where he is flushed out.
Into the bowels of the Bedford-Stuyvesant city streets.
(Myrtle Broadway is next)
The gentleman 4 people down and 1 bench across resembles Swizz Beats
Defeat has beaten his shoes, so his kick game isn't resembling the Swizz feet,
Fantastic like when Swizz met the "Right Keys".
I jumpshot out of the train doors........S.W.i.S 7:43
Passing Kathy and her Pink Audio Earmuffs.
Through steel doors handled by yanking steel handles.
Illegally acrossing the threshold.
The black man now sitting next to me peered at me.
Hands; fingers intertwined.
Pinky ring shit upon right hand.
Trader Joe bag on lap.
He's suited in: Grey sweat shirt. White IPod earplugs.
His eyes closed as not to be in this world,
Because in this world, earplug listening pleasure is measured against nada.
Across from us sits a big ass grown kid.
Yankee fitted. Burgundy Nintendo DS--at best;
His 300+ pounds nesteled into denim.
Brown Bag. Nike ACG Winterboot Swag.
H'was (He was) once along. One man maintaining two seats spaces.
Yet, at Essex, a couple boarded.
He, found a place for his lady to sit,
But not before glancing at me.
Either he wanted me to get up or to teach me something?
He only taught.
The couple conversed. A Chuck Taylor of sorts.
Him standing. Umbrella in back left pocket....
Brown leather jacked hanging on to his broad shoulders.
Leaning against the carts back doors.
Best foot forward.
She sits.
Face as if, it's anticipating his next collection of words....
She's clutching a Big Bean Cook Book.
Gladly this cook took a seat,
Because Lord knows her hands will manifest recipes from this,
Lap and warm-arm cradled Bean Bible.
Survival coudl be complimented by rice----nice.
Adjacent to them, on the left,
Two men text.
One potbellied hippie....
Who sits quickly as the Marcy Avenue doors magnetize it's collecton of humans outwards....
Now....
He who was on the right of me is now on my left.
Dress shoes. Brown coordinated pinstripe trousers.
His body language affected by train movements as well as congruent cellular doings.
(This is Lorimer)
8 exit...7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1........
One purnt orange jacket Hispanic is left to stand at the door's edge.
Living.
Black work pants and boots....
Black plastic bag for his lunch-not-finished.
Gifts from friends of Spanish lineage or whatever boat floats;
This is a mechanical river running thru it.
Flushing is where he is flushed out.
Into the bowels of the Bedford-Stuyvesant city streets.
(Myrtle Broadway is next)
The gentleman 4 people down and 1 bench across resembles Swizz Beats
Defeat has beaten his shoes, so his kick game isn't resembling the Swizz feet,
Fantastic like when Swizz met the "Right Keys".
I jumpshot out of the train doors........S.W.i.S 7:43
12.14.2010
THE POETRY OF SOMALIA X NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC'S IMAGERY
Welcome to a place where pirates and terrorists rule.
A shattered and concealed place where it seems like war begins with no end.
Home of the Shabaab gun show offs. Grenade attacks.
Roadside bombs that might take a mother's arms off.
She may never cradle her young again.
Welcome to a place where speeding pick-ups hiccup over desolate street pathways;
Narrowly missing the African sun-kissed women.
Turmoil is their next door neighbor.
The two have become well acquainted.
Stability illudes them.
The likelihood of a stable government would exclude and confuse them.
Here, it seems, the governance is but an utterance by the Transistional Federal Goverment.
Welcome to Hell!
"Where you are welcomed to sell and if them shells fall?" you'll have a hard time returning them.
You could only listen and commence learning,
How to decipher the difference between missle launches, bazooka blast and machine gun rounds.
Welcome to the.......
Mid-collapsed spiral stair cases.
Urine-infested and sea rot smelling rooms.
Hallowed.
As young men follow, the feeling of the leaved-quat stimulant.
Rolling ladu for hours under peaceful showers of light placed by the house's beacon lights.
Welcome to pain in the midst of beauty! It is my duty to escort you throughly through this land you've forgotten.
A shattered and concealed place where it seems like war begins with no end.
Home of the Shabaab gun show offs. Grenade attacks.
Roadside bombs that might take a mother's arms off.
She may never cradle her young again.
Welcome to a place where speeding pick-ups hiccup over desolate street pathways;
Narrowly missing the African sun-kissed women.
Turmoil is their next door neighbor.
The two have become well acquainted.
Stability illudes them.
The likelihood of a stable government would exclude and confuse them.
Here, it seems, the governance is but an utterance by the Transistional Federal Goverment.
Welcome to Hell!
"Where you are welcomed to sell and if them shells fall?" you'll have a hard time returning them.
You could only listen and commence learning,
How to decipher the difference between missle launches, bazooka blast and machine gun rounds.
Welcome to the.......
Mid-collapsed spiral stair cases.
Urine-infested and sea rot smelling rooms.
Hallowed.
As young men follow, the feeling of the leaved-quat stimulant.
Rolling ladu for hours under peaceful showers of light placed by the house's beacon lights.
Welcome to pain in the midst of beauty! It is my duty to escort you throughly through this land you've forgotten.
12.08.2010
The Flooded What--13 Minutes of FreeFlow Writing
I remember times when I wrote to be free.
Now I write only to free the enslaved minds from times of thus described
It could be live or recorded and shown on Hulu.
Some might call it voodoo and I’d then be inclined to call their thought process do-do but I would refrain.
I feel somewhat ashamed and pained that my own hometown is still arguing over whether or not to consolidate. Goverment and Education!
I’m sure there are much bigger fish to fry or grill, but it is what it is.
Why not focus on what is being taught and learned?
Pretty soon, if they don’t get it together, school books may just be bought and burned.
Tossed in urns and lost at sea.
I remember when I fell asleep one time and it felt like my soul was lost at sea.
But not really lost.
I was on a speedboat and, now, I just grace NYC with my presence.
At the same time, try not to speed to toasting too early.
There is always a just time to celebrate but I be feeling like there is much more work to be done.
Ignorant folk already figured out that there is much more dumb to be done.
And I figure that the projects are heaven until those who are slummed get a dose of the suburbs.
So what herb flavor did you blow lately?
Sedating the medulla and cerebral cortex into the rubber soles of goretex.
More sex is what the horny want.
Be it not necessarily what they need.
Sometimes its greed.
Sometimes is just a matter of being.
All in all, through my engine-revving study of the Four Noble Truths, this here is just a matter of how I see it.
I got it so why should I have to try to seize it? God gave it--- so what is there other to do than believe it?
And even, if there ain’t no God, everything is matter of choice and will.
The same folk that choose to be non-violent could be the same ones who exercise the choice to kill.
This here life don’t seem anymore than a matter of the free, the choiced and willed.
I wish clef lip kids could get a free grill.
The hungry could get a free meal.
The broke could get repaired and healed but I guess, to me, it’s like controlling diabetes.
You decide what you will or won’t be.
If I witness a murder, is it better to say, “I’m glad that shit wasn’t me”?
I prefer not to get cloned because Lord knows I don’t need a double me.
And I use to and still do love the Double Tree, Hotel.
But now I remember the days at the Red Roof.
Me Ari and Brad.
And days that my momma had her drug run-ins.
Look at our society and see the shifts in consciousness.
Drugs run in the front door and stick up mental faculties.
Some folk benefit, opening up the minds eye.
Other folk lose hold of the mind,
Collecting benefits from a Social Security Department,
Who issue the 9 numbers, credit for being unable or crazy.
Kinda hazy it is to me how things are.
We choose not to provide for ourselves much anymore so the government'll do it.
Giving them the freedom to make the rulings,
And now this thought process has got me to thinking about whether or not to start my non-profit.
But I see that it’s more a matter of how you do it when you do it.
I’m glad that I remembered that.
As I sit, (cuz in a few minutes my lunch break here in the West Village will be over), or rather sat,
I started writing this just 11 minutes ago.
Just to flush out---color-filled thoughts, un-judged, unashamed and un-lost.
What this cost is nothing more than some time and focus.
Sublimed-up, lined-up like uncut potent-- non-spoken.
This here is liberation.
Line 40 Column 43 penetration.
Written December 7, 2010 (Edited December 8, 2010)
Now I write only to free the enslaved minds from times of thus described
It could be live or recorded and shown on Hulu.
Some might call it voodoo and I’d then be inclined to call their thought process do-do but I would refrain.
I feel somewhat ashamed and pained that my own hometown is still arguing over whether or not to consolidate. Goverment and Education!
I’m sure there are much bigger fish to fry or grill, but it is what it is.
Why not focus on what is being taught and learned?
Pretty soon, if they don’t get it together, school books may just be bought and burned.
Tossed in urns and lost at sea.
I remember when I fell asleep one time and it felt like my soul was lost at sea.
But not really lost.
I was on a speedboat and, now, I just grace NYC with my presence.
At the same time, try not to speed to toasting too early.
There is always a just time to celebrate but I be feeling like there is much more work to be done.
Ignorant folk already figured out that there is much more dumb to be done.
And I figure that the projects are heaven until those who are slummed get a dose of the suburbs.
So what herb flavor did you blow lately?
Sedating the medulla and cerebral cortex into the rubber soles of goretex.
More sex is what the horny want.
Be it not necessarily what they need.
Sometimes its greed.
Sometimes is just a matter of being.
All in all, through my engine-revving study of the Four Noble Truths, this here is just a matter of how I see it.
I got it so why should I have to try to seize it? God gave it--- so what is there other to do than believe it?
And even, if there ain’t no God, everything is matter of choice and will.
The same folk that choose to be non-violent could be the same ones who exercise the choice to kill.
This here life don’t seem anymore than a matter of the free, the choiced and willed.
I wish clef lip kids could get a free grill.
The hungry could get a free meal.
The broke could get repaired and healed but I guess, to me, it’s like controlling diabetes.
You decide what you will or won’t be.
If I witness a murder, is it better to say, “I’m glad that shit wasn’t me”?
I prefer not to get cloned because Lord knows I don’t need a double me.
And I use to and still do love the Double Tree, Hotel.
But now I remember the days at the Red Roof.
Me Ari and Brad.
And days that my momma had her drug run-ins.
Look at our society and see the shifts in consciousness.
Drugs run in the front door and stick up mental faculties.
Some folk benefit, opening up the minds eye.
Other folk lose hold of the mind,
Collecting benefits from a Social Security Department,
Who issue the 9 numbers, credit for being unable or crazy.
Kinda hazy it is to me how things are.
We choose not to provide for ourselves much anymore so the government'll do it.
Giving them the freedom to make the rulings,
And now this thought process has got me to thinking about whether or not to start my non-profit.
But I see that it’s more a matter of how you do it when you do it.
I’m glad that I remembered that.
As I sit, (cuz in a few minutes my lunch break here in the West Village will be over), or rather sat,
I started writing this just 11 minutes ago.
Just to flush out---color-filled thoughts, un-judged, unashamed and un-lost.
What this cost is nothing more than some time and focus.
Sublimed-up, lined-up like uncut potent-- non-spoken.
This here is liberation.
Line 40 Column 43 penetration.
Written December 7, 2010 (Edited December 8, 2010)
11.12.2010
SEEKING SOLACE: PEACE IN THE MIDST OF WAR
I find myself sometimes only seeking solace.
With understanding s of my novice skills, the plan is to orchestrate deals so that I may make something real out of these dreams that many call illusions.
With understanding s of my novice skills, the plan is to orchestrate deals so that I may make something real out of these dreams that many call illusions.
See it, believe it achieve it! Seemingly, at times I find myself caught in the machine that some call life.
I have found no other choice but to love but sometimes it is an emotional roller coaster!
But what a ride.
I love this life thing.
and as my heart continues to sing and my mind continues to harmonize, I love to do the same.
I know there’s more to me like there are more cities to Tennessee.
Like there are more mixers for Hennessy,
And I can and will grin at me while standing in the mirror facing my own symmetric chemistry. Challenging the inner me.
Not again asking God to enter me because I know now that God lives in me….this has become my radiation of energy…splendidly….
But I still ask, “Who am I ?” “And who do i choose to be?”
And who me in the midst of denial phases when you question the I?
If I go nowhere at all, I am still are somewhere. I am now here.
So if now I am here and here I am now, then now I are prepared!
Of course I am. Indeed the world spins and soars at the same time.
Not coming down, but only moving through cycles.
Cycling while ciphering, while caring for and sharing more than our small human minds could ever imagine.
Imagine, Stalin masks draped over male slave craniums while working their way up a corporate ladder.
While women and children climb behind them feeling the torture of loosened bladders….
At time I unleash the matter of the mind to expand time…
I climb, they climb, we climb…..so please move your digits from being stepped on….
Because those climbing up the corporate ladder are trying to move digits while being stepped on
Stepping on those under them while conversing on brand new cellphones…..
Climbing to Heaven……Finding a heaven…grinding the lessons….where timing is every...thang…
But the punch clock promise seems Amish….
Mixed with a clasp of Catholic….Unsuccessfully, I tried to master the art of spoken word….
AKA written verbal heard and only realized that I had already mastered it…..
so now it just lives thru me and on the walls of willing listening hearts I delicately scribble this literary art With crayons plastering and remolding art……on hearts….
Thrown darts that touch like acupuncture pins,
This passion packs a grin while stepping into so-called sin and making it a long lost friend…
Time mends and trends grow only to die, only be re-birthed…
Mother Earth and Daughter Nature hurt….due to environmental prostitution and the gluttonous and Believed illusion of five-fingered greed being forced under their skirts…….
They both tried to yell rape in the form of earthquakes…domestic violence moved tectonic plates….
While the gale force tsunamis of harassment take down walls and the horrid hurricane water of poverty. Turn humans from the poor, who had a chance, into the poverty-stricken to martyrs….
Sorrow it seems, is sprinkled on tomorrows dreams…
The small amounts of people who live the loving moments push those beliefs into tomorrows scenes….
While those who knowingly invest other things invest in tomorrows screams….
Whether it is the rich with a plan for the poor or the poor with a plan to get rich.
The game switches sides …Catch the glitch.... if the rich have a plan for the poor?
Wouldn’t it only make sense that the poor would have a plan for the rich?
But the poor only plan to get rich? Hmmm…makes me think a little bit…
See, it takes two to tango and one person can two step alone but the right foot needs the left foot for balance. Why would it attempt that balance through attempting to strut alone?
That’s like man with no woman….…..
unknowingly, to the naked third eye, the alledgely poor un-knowledgeable novice seeks solace while attempting to master masters. Conquer conquerors. Enrich the rich and pour into the poor.
Only for all of them to decided whether their glass is half empty or half full…....
Should they question it or experience it’s essence?
Does the essence lack essence due to how much essence in the glass?
In essence the real lesson what?
A teacher must learn how to teach, therefore they must first be a student…..
A warrior must learn how to kill to preserve life.
A poet and MC must learn how to read before they write and learn to write before they speak.
A child must learn how to extend their arms in order to learn how to reach…….
And the freedom must first be dumb in order to be free……
And seemingly we must learn how to war just to maintain peace.
I have found no other choice but to love but sometimes it is an emotional roller coaster!
But what a ride.
I love this life thing.
and as my heart continues to sing and my mind continues to harmonize, I love to do the same.
I know there’s more to me like there are more cities to Tennessee.
Like there are more mixers for Hennessy,
And I can and will grin at me while standing in the mirror facing my own symmetric chemistry. Challenging the inner me.
Not again asking God to enter me because I know now that God lives in me….this has become my radiation of energy…splendidly….
But I still ask, “Who am I ?” “And who do i choose to be?”
And who me in the midst of denial phases when you question the I?
If I go nowhere at all, I am still are somewhere. I am now here.
So if now I am here and here I am now, then now I are prepared!
Of course I am. Indeed the world spins and soars at the same time.
Not coming down, but only moving through cycles.
Cycling while ciphering, while caring for and sharing more than our small human minds could ever imagine.
Imagine, Stalin masks draped over male slave craniums while working their way up a corporate ladder.
While women and children climb behind them feeling the torture of loosened bladders….
At time I unleash the matter of the mind to expand time…
I climb, they climb, we climb…..so please move your digits from being stepped on….
Because those climbing up the corporate ladder are trying to move digits while being stepped on
Stepping on those under them while conversing on brand new cellphones…..
Climbing to Heaven……Finding a heaven…grinding the lessons….where timing is every...thang…
But the punch clock promise seems Amish….
Mixed with a clasp of Catholic….Unsuccessfully, I tried to master the art of spoken word….
AKA written verbal heard and only realized that I had already mastered it…..
so now it just lives thru me and on the walls of willing listening hearts I delicately scribble this literary art With crayons plastering and remolding art……on hearts….
Thrown darts that touch like acupuncture pins,
This passion packs a grin while stepping into so-called sin and making it a long lost friend…
Time mends and trends grow only to die, only be re-birthed…
Mother Earth and Daughter Nature hurt….due to environmental prostitution and the gluttonous and Believed illusion of five-fingered greed being forced under their skirts…….
They both tried to yell rape in the form of earthquakes…domestic violence moved tectonic plates….
While the gale force tsunamis of harassment take down walls and the horrid hurricane water of poverty. Turn humans from the poor, who had a chance, into the poverty-stricken to martyrs….
Sorrow it seems, is sprinkled on tomorrows dreams…
The small amounts of people who live the loving moments push those beliefs into tomorrows scenes….
While those who knowingly invest other things invest in tomorrows screams….
Whether it is the rich with a plan for the poor or the poor with a plan to get rich.
The game switches sides …Catch the glitch.... if the rich have a plan for the poor?
Wouldn’t it only make sense that the poor would have a plan for the rich?
But the poor only plan to get rich? Hmmm…makes me think a little bit…
See, it takes two to tango and one person can two step alone but the right foot needs the left foot for balance. Why would it attempt that balance through attempting to strut alone?
That’s like man with no woman….…..
unknowingly, to the naked third eye, the alledgely poor un-knowledgeable novice seeks solace while attempting to master masters. Conquer conquerors. Enrich the rich and pour into the poor.
Only for all of them to decided whether their glass is half empty or half full…....
Should they question it or experience it’s essence?
Does the essence lack essence due to how much essence in the glass?
In essence the real lesson what?
A teacher must learn how to teach, therefore they must first be a student…..
A warrior must learn how to kill to preserve life.
A poet and MC must learn how to read before they write and learn to write before they speak.
A child must learn how to extend their arms in order to learn how to reach…….
And the freedom must first be dumb in order to be free……
And seemingly we must learn how to war just to maintain peace.
11.11.2010
SIR STEVE FOX x CURTIS MAYFIELD'S "AIN'T NO LOVE LOST"
Thought it was best to share! A friend named Kelley Davis asked me to write a piece for her about her about a specific subject. This is what I came up with on the spot and now I've decided to make it a part of a new project. Thank you Kelley for pulling such a wholesome poetry piece from my soul! One Love!
10.21.2010
Indecent Exposure X Zach Hyman
I love riding the subway and the grimey shit that happens on it really helps my creativity! Everything is art, especially our public transportation. I found this shot on the internet and I can't wait to meet Zach and do some art shows with him. Here is a little quote from Zach about why he does what he does. Be ye inspired! Break the rules every now and again!
"I'm doing it because it excites me and excites other people that are comfortable with their body," Hyman said. "This is a little more innocent than a flasher. This picture is for me and the model."
"An A-Train Thang" X 9/12/2010 6:13pm
The first scribblings of a new Moleskin are delivered via the Downtown-Bound A-Train.
Fresh off of live underground jazz bands and crowded subway platforms,
Where ladies stand with babies in arms.
The charm ,of New York City never ceases--nor ceases to amaze me, or--
The others I am unintentionally surrounded by.
Upon this A-Train,
Earphones plug the ears and backpacks crowd isles between the holding poles' available seating.
This is the Subway Series--where, even on time-truant days,
There is always a fair share of available defeatings.
Greetings are treasured.
Especially those of seldomed happiness.
Most of them though, are those of negative connotation....
Like,
"Could you get the hell out of my way please!!!!!?"???!!!"
Or...
"F**k you too!!!"
This was, and is, your Downtown A-Train, making all stops to Lefferts Blvd.
"Step inside of the closing doors please."
10.10.2010
Our Beautiful 2Morrow 2Day
Although suckas try to railroad ya or Mack tractor truck-ya---
Those cats are just losers. Opposite of winners--- Memph-City abusers.
I wrote this for you, with no beat. Only God inside the home of my mind as well as outside of my window.
Love being pumped to my heart, meeting my mental.
I see what they tried to get you into!
It started waaay back with Mr. Jackson.
Running the natives off and then thought they'd be relaxing.
But you so resilient and you have seen everything they've done.
Now I see why you got favor on me (us) baby, we (I) won,
We (I) were slum! Ducking in the streets when them shots popped off.
A 1/4 mile nomadic bullet took that homies top right off.
You scared me time and time again, but spared me time and time again.
I take it you were just showing and inspiring me how to be a man.
Martin died there, so you showed me how to lend a hand.
And lend a voice, to those who don't know how to expose feelings.
Deal with mis-dealings, mistreatments and what not!
I left you to move to NYC on some, "WHAT NOW?"
But I, maintained focus, it ain't take to long.
Right or wrong? Or whether I write it short or long? You know what I"m on---
You want me to own, moving along, loving me, my own.
And then it won't be long before I'm back.
Teaching through showing these cats how to act.
How to set it up, throw the right curve ball.
How to rightly field a grounder, how to make self so astounding.
Spent days through Central Park tossing lucky coins off into fountains,
Wishing only the best for us, un-unjust....it's just-us, baby.
Some of these folk crazy to fathom us separated,
To fathom us, "city of the dead" and label us "se-dated".
This be for my folk in the streets and those in that corner office.
For my folk in Forest Hill Cemetery, resting peacefully in the coffin
This is for those crying and coughing. I know you tired of being oppressed often.
I know it seems awful, but baby girl but we good now.
I just need you to stick wit me like Clyde and Bonnie.
I'm back in the hood now, doin' this just like I should, now.
They gonna say a lot and throw a lotta hate,
But we gonna play the game raw and wait for it to cross the plate.
Then abuse it like a corked bat.
then hit the lounge and tell the waitress to uncork that.
This is celebration from the pain and sorrow---
I love you today, with a state to appreciate a beautiful tomorrow!
7.01.2010
BrooklynAfrica World Cup Stand Up!
I must admit that I am amped about this concert combo! I didn't make it to many good shows last summer in NYC due to me trying to get my footing but I vow that this summer will be different! It will be more musical and on the birthday note of my homie Prem, it will be one worth "The Build". (www.premonitionmusic.com). I just caught wind of this concert taking place at Celebrate Brooklyn! @ The Prospect Park Bandshell, July 11th, 2010 @ 4pm. The show will be headlined by The Legendary Roots Crew Band and hosted by BK MC Talib Kweli!
The summer will get better than this but I know this is one of the great places to start for me! Other noteables on the show roster are: SahrNgaujah (star of the hit Broadway show Fela!), Bajah + the Dry Eye Crew, Dragons of Zynth and one of my favorites due to his high octaned spitfire, Blitz The Ambassador! Once stated, The Roots will be headlining this OkayAfrica World Cup 2010 Finals to celebrate the first time, in the World Cup's 80 year history, the tourney will take place on Native Soil! It was only right that America was beaten by Ghana! hahahahahaha! So it is only proper for me to call this a meeting of the Native Sons! Big Shout To Rich Wright! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Wright_(author).
I'm excited about getting involved in the Brooklyn Scene and so should you! Even if you live in the city, you know that Brooklyn is where it's at. www.bricartsmedia.org/events/performing-arts/okayafrica-with-the-roots-and-talib-kweli
http://www.prospectpark.org/calendar/celebrate
Until we meet again, whether blessings or sin!
Love and Peace------SteveFoxNYC
The summer will get better than this but I know this is one of the great places to start for me! Other noteables on the show roster are: SahrNgaujah (star of the hit Broadway show Fela!), Bajah + the Dry Eye Crew, Dragons of Zynth and one of my favorites due to his high octaned spitfire, Blitz The Ambassador! Once stated, The Roots will be headlining this OkayAfrica World Cup 2010 Finals to celebrate the first time, in the World Cup's 80 year history, the tourney will take place on Native Soil! It was only right that America was beaten by Ghana! hahahahahaha! So it is only proper for me to call this a meeting of the Native Sons! Big Shout To Rich Wright! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Wright_(author).
I'm excited about getting involved in the Brooklyn Scene and so should you! Even if you live in the city, you know that Brooklyn is where it's at. www.bricartsmedia.org/events/performing-arts/okayafrica-with-the-roots-and-talib-kweli
http://www.prospectpark.org/calendar/celebrate
Until we meet again, whether blessings or sin!
Love and Peace------SteveFoxNYC
6.23.2010
Financial Quote of The Day
A bank is a place that will lend you money if you can prove that you don't need it. ~Bob Hope
5.17.2010
A Budding Preauxx!!!!!??????!!!
Man, I'm tryna make good musik bro!!!! -Preauxx
I was in Memphis a little over a year ago, preparing to leave for my journey in the "Big City and Bright Lights" and I just so happened to be with two of my friends/producers/emcees, 901 and Quake The Great! We linked, hopped into the whip and proceed to Richardson Towers South! (They wanted to meet up with Preauxx) Now I knew I was on tresspass for being blatantly disrespectful to the disrespectful and I also knew I was running a risk of being arrested but, what the hell!!???!!????!! Go with the flow!!!!
I had no idea that I would be meeting the cat who came up to me just months before and offered me props on my own craft! I accepted, appreciated and kept it moving then and now I was about to see what he was up to. Initially, I was ready to freestyle with him and simply build, but I had to listen! So that's what I did! He rehearsed, letting future material grace my ears and I smiled......I saw me in him! The hunger! The passion! The purpose for more than just typical music!
To keep this honest, direct and open, I have been cutting all ties with Memphis folk from my past and really opening my eyes to my abilities, strengths and just leaving lolly gaggers behind, literally 1000 miles behind, but today I talked to Phat Mak and now I'm listening to this "To Kill A Mockingbird" Mixtape by Preauxx!!!
I will have to say that it is very refreshing to hear new music and concepts from a old place that my heart holds so dear! With that said, I give props to you Preauxx! Keep it fresh, keep it aware, keep it conceptual and most of all, keep it Preauxx! Classic! Timeless and All Love!!!
Big shout to the Dynasty on the Graphics!
5.01.2010
4.16.2010
How Fast Food Has Tried To Steal My Soul!!!!
I DON'T LIKE McDONALDS!
Hate is a very strong word that I will not use because I am a lover! With that said, I dislike, very strongly, the cost of convenience in this day and age. It's totally out of control in my opinion. Just the other day, I had to be in Downtown Brooklyn for a very important appointment and it just so happened that I needed some food. I traveled down Flatbush Ave, past the oversized Rocawear Billboards, to Fulton Street to visit our local Mickey D's. I knew what I was already going to get for my lady and I: 2 Egg and Cheese McMuffins (minus the meat due to our new vegetarianism), 2 Fruit and Walnut Salads and 2 Orange Juices. Now, I haven't bought fast food like this in a long while and usually when I go into McDonald's, it's for something snackwise. (a snackwrap or something else off the dollar menu). On this day, I slipped!
As I first entered, I stood in the longer line. Then I switched to a shorter on located along the wall. As I waited, I realized that I had a very good vantage point to take a census of who was buying and who was sellings. 99.6% African American and other people of color. This is that type of area so what else could I expect? After I was done assessing the socio-economic food make up, I proceeded with my order and was totally appalled that the total came to over $15. WTF?????? For this?
These prices were totally outrageous to me and I guess they were outrageous for a few reasons. One, I know better. Two, for $15, I knew that I could have been better prepared by going to the local Food Bazarr @ Myrtle Broadway and spending that $15 on a 6 pack of Thomas English Muffins, 1 carton of vegetarian eggs, apples, yogurt and a pack of walnuts to compliment our fruit and walnut salad. We could have eaten for 3 days off that $15 instead of having one serving that would do nothing but let us down by 3pm.
In conclusion, I know I am not everyone else and I say that with happiness but I will say that the prices that WE pay for convenience is "off the chain". We know better therefore we should prepare ourselves to do better. Plus, I like mine and Jessica's cooking better than the bodega or any fast food joint I can think of! And I sure don't want any corporate slaves fixing my food! That shit sucks for them and me! Sometimes I despise having morals! But it's better to have than not!
Hate is a very strong word that I will not use because I am a lover! With that said, I dislike, very strongly, the cost of convenience in this day and age. It's totally out of control in my opinion. Just the other day, I had to be in Downtown Brooklyn for a very important appointment and it just so happened that I needed some food. I traveled down Flatbush Ave, past the oversized Rocawear Billboards, to Fulton Street to visit our local Mickey D's. I knew what I was already going to get for my lady and I: 2 Egg and Cheese McMuffins (minus the meat due to our new vegetarianism), 2 Fruit and Walnut Salads and 2 Orange Juices. Now, I haven't bought fast food like this in a long while and usually when I go into McDonald's, it's for something snackwise. (a snackwrap or something else off the dollar menu). On this day, I slipped!
As I first entered, I stood in the longer line. Then I switched to a shorter on located along the wall. As I waited, I realized that I had a very good vantage point to take a census of who was buying and who was sellings. 99.6% African American and other people of color. This is that type of area so what else could I expect? After I was done assessing the socio-economic food make up, I proceeded with my order and was totally appalled that the total came to over $15. WTF?????? For this?
These prices were totally outrageous to me and I guess they were outrageous for a few reasons. One, I know better. Two, for $15, I knew that I could have been better prepared by going to the local Food Bazarr @ Myrtle Broadway and spending that $15 on a 6 pack of Thomas English Muffins, 1 carton of vegetarian eggs, apples, yogurt and a pack of walnuts to compliment our fruit and walnut salad. We could have eaten for 3 days off that $15 instead of having one serving that would do nothing but let us down by 3pm.
In conclusion, I know I am not everyone else and I say that with happiness but I will say that the prices that WE pay for convenience is "off the chain". We know better therefore we should prepare ourselves to do better. Plus, I like mine and Jessica's cooking better than the bodega or any fast food joint I can think of! And I sure don't want any corporate slaves fixing my food! That shit sucks for them and me! Sometimes I despise having morals! But it's better to have than not!
4.15.2010
As The SunShines In......The Random Thursday Feelings....
So I woke up this morning to a phone call....It was love. I ignored the first one. Then she called again....I picked up!
"What you doing?" I said, face half-mashed into the fluffy Ikea pillows!
"Talking to my friends about you" she said happily!
"Why ya'll talking about me?" I asked inquisitively.
"We can have girl talk right?" she responded.....
"Yeah, I suppose" I retorted.
This is were the convo kind of just tailed off. My love encouraged me to sleep for another 30 minutes and that she would call me back after then. I quickly obliged and went back to falling into sleep. But I couldn't. Thoughts ran through my head of the moves I had to make. For the betterment of myself, which was also the betterment of our love. Finally, I'm living the fact again that what I do for me, I do for us. And I ain't mad at that. I am not concerned with how the "others" feel. Some just are not well enough equipped to understand love; which is nothing more than understanding life. The fine balance of it and how it takes care of you and holds you accountable at the beginning and end of the day. It's a beautiful thing.
Lately, my love and I have been running into people who are what we like to call "circumstancially insane". Let me explain. We talked about this yesterday and first had to realize that we both had done this before. I to her and her to me. It's easy to do because we are human and we are a doctor and a writer. (Our children are going to be wonderful). With that said, it is very important for those reading this to understand that first we must go inner and then we can truly see what's going on on the "outer". In simple terms......look within yourself first, before you look out into the world to make you feel better. As Kat Williams says, "It's the esteem of yo got damn self, simple bitch".
Now on to this topic of "Circumstancial Insanity". This is a very simple concept. Things happen to people, and instead of them seeing the truth of the situation and learning from it. (And believe me, God teaches, as soon as you start complaining. It's the fine balance of life. Most times we are so drowned in emotion that it just takes a little minute to see the truth!) Those who that situation just happened to, take that situation, agree to be weakened by it and then impose it on others. Basically they trap themselves inside of their own insecurities and fantasy worlds. Even when the person(s) they are dealing with takes total responsibility from them and apologizes. They still are hurt! Hurt causes people to keep hurting themselves or heal and learn from that scar. Its really up to the person to decide what they want to do. Now I am no doctor yet, but I am a very through thinker and creative being. I can only recognize things like this because I have done them and I have been involved in the situation. These types of things are going on right now where I work, play, read my newspapers, on the internet, in the White House, in the hood, in the suburbs, on the television. Everywhere! I just decided to recognize them and share my thoughts and feelings with my love first, and then with the world.
Circumstancial Insanity is real and it's real funny to those of us who see it for what it is. It's easy to say that you love someone, but it's harder to show it. But on the flip side, it hard to say that you hate someone, but in this world, it's easier to show it. Which one are you doing?
"What you doing?" I said, face half-mashed into the fluffy Ikea pillows!
"Talking to my friends about you" she said happily!
"Why ya'll talking about me?" I asked inquisitively.
"We can have girl talk right?" she responded.....
"Yeah, I suppose" I retorted.
This is were the convo kind of just tailed off. My love encouraged me to sleep for another 30 minutes and that she would call me back after then. I quickly obliged and went back to falling into sleep. But I couldn't. Thoughts ran through my head of the moves I had to make. For the betterment of myself, which was also the betterment of our love. Finally, I'm living the fact again that what I do for me, I do for us. And I ain't mad at that. I am not concerned with how the "others" feel. Some just are not well enough equipped to understand love; which is nothing more than understanding life. The fine balance of it and how it takes care of you and holds you accountable at the beginning and end of the day. It's a beautiful thing.
Lately, my love and I have been running into people who are what we like to call "circumstancially insane". Let me explain. We talked about this yesterday and first had to realize that we both had done this before. I to her and her to me. It's easy to do because we are human and we are a doctor and a writer. (Our children are going to be wonderful). With that said, it is very important for those reading this to understand that first we must go inner and then we can truly see what's going on on the "outer". In simple terms......look within yourself first, before you look out into the world to make you feel better. As Kat Williams says, "It's the esteem of yo got damn self, simple bitch".
Now on to this topic of "Circumstancial Insanity". This is a very simple concept. Things happen to people, and instead of them seeing the truth of the situation and learning from it. (And believe me, God teaches, as soon as you start complaining. It's the fine balance of life. Most times we are so drowned in emotion that it just takes a little minute to see the truth!) Those who that situation just happened to, take that situation, agree to be weakened by it and then impose it on others. Basically they trap themselves inside of their own insecurities and fantasy worlds. Even when the person(s) they are dealing with takes total responsibility from them and apologizes. They still are hurt! Hurt causes people to keep hurting themselves or heal and learn from that scar. Its really up to the person to decide what they want to do. Now I am no doctor yet, but I am a very through thinker and creative being. I can only recognize things like this because I have done them and I have been involved in the situation. These types of things are going on right now where I work, play, read my newspapers, on the internet, in the White House, in the hood, in the suburbs, on the television. Everywhere! I just decided to recognize them and share my thoughts and feelings with my love first, and then with the world.
Circumstancial Insanity is real and it's real funny to those of us who see it for what it is. It's easy to say that you love someone, but it's harder to show it. But on the flip side, it hard to say that you hate someone, but in this world, it's easier to show it. Which one are you doing?
3.08.2010
2.17.2010
2.07.2010
2.06.2010
1.04.2010
HMMMMMM....I WONDER....?
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