The Word Spoken

July 20th, 2010 | By Malcolm Snax

So-Gone

 Reflections of you tickle the empty bedroom mirror

Your longing scent mimic’s a kiss on my lips,

I lay next to the memory of you in the cold bed

Speaking broken words praying that their complete meaning

Find you and releases me from this heartbroken loop,

Trying to sooth myself with your voice on a constant loop

But that soon puts me back in a broken perspective,

Staring rapidly at the days without you trying not

To shed a daily tear as I ask failing questions out of fear

Fear of my soul turning to ashes

Fear of the dot, dot, dash of what’s to come

So I sit alone in your silhouette hoping for a lasting peace.

                                                                                      – Duce Wayne

Hit D.W. on them twitters, wish him a HAPPY BORN DAY and BUY HIS BOOK!

Harold Green – The Color Line Vol. 2

July 1st, 2010 | By Malcolm Snax

Renaissance man, Harold Green, released his new spoken word  project  2day.  The Color Line Vol.2 features H.G.’s unique brand of freestyle spoken word over  industry and original beats.  (Yurp, I did indeed  say FREESTYLE….  the entire tape!!!)  This brother has a strong positive message that I feel every1 should hear, so give him some ear time!  Cool dude… Dope music w/ a PURPOSE! Preview and download the project on the player below.  Oh, I flipped the cover art out of inspiration by the music… peep the original cover in the player.

Also, check him out @ his newly launched site http://haroldandthebeard.com/

Harold Green – Lauryn’s Hill x Chicago Defender

June 25th, 2010 | By Malcolm Snax

Two leaks off the forthcoming  Color Line Vol 2.   Audio piff for all you ghetto intellectual Snewtonians out there… #getchoosum

Lauryn’s Hill

Chicago Defender

The Word Spoken

June 14th, 2010 | By Isis

Here is a piece we received submitted by a new poet to our site, Aaron Rogers, check it out and show him some love.

Untitled
I sit, and note her story
A testament
riddled in the broken crevices
of her face,
Hammered
Like commandments
into tablets
of stone.
Her wrinkles,
like creases in paper
testify
to the unfolding of
ancient history
Visited again and again

Consciously and Unconsciously,
Willingly and Unwillingly

…Painful every time.

Deeply she breathes
Plunging
Her mind into
A well
Far beneath the surface
Down into
the murky water
libraries of
her heart.

Tears,
Like volumes
are stacked end
to end
On shelves of shoulders.

Drip.
Drip.

They unravel
down
Her face
and lay
like open books
on the surface
of her palms
…endless volumes

I get lost in every page

Overwhelmed,
I lean closer.
Place my arm around her.
And give her
One more shoulder to cry on

–Aaron Rogers

The Word Spoken

May 27th, 2010 | By Malcolm Snax

The Word Spoken

May 7th, 2010 | By Malcolm Snax

Return of …..

Fighting crystal clear devils on a daily basis,

Never looking to be on the daily news

As I ice skate thru hell to take the fight to them,

Taking a daily regimen of prayer with ice water

To quench growing principles. 

The frozen air is blown in my heated cranium

To expand knowledge of this friendly poet,

Lessons reloading in a six cylinder mind

Pushing it with diligence on a quarter tank,

Driving none the less, loaded with ambition  

As I lessen my need for ambien sleep

And prep this caffeinated soul for an examination,

Mathematic sincerity passing thru this preparation

Of probability bending ratios as I say cheerio

To every problematic conundrum 

Hitting those stick with alphabet soup

For prevention of any future icky situation,

Coming back to the world eating a bowl of cheerios

That symbolizes this inherent omniscience

For a much needed return. 

-Duce Wayne

The Word Spoken- “Nights and Weekends”

May 6th, 2010 | By Isis

Gearing up for the launch of his book ” Things I learned While Walking”, our boy @DaunteWrites blessed us with another piece this week. This one will not appear in the book but it is dope nonetheless. It is a collabo piece with @bask_n_robbins from Quincy Illinois. Be sure to follow both of them on twitter. @DaunteWrites is in Blue and @bask_n_robbins is in pink.  Get your read on after the jump. (more…)

The Word Spoken

April 21st, 2010 | By Malcolm Snax

Torn 

I love them both beyond the word love

Loving the double vision of this emotion

But I’m slowly losing vision

As their beauty tears my sight apart 

Laying on the luxury of their hearts

As I get use to the luxury of lying,

Living off my indulgence is my current gig

As I ride their currents to satisfy their requirements 

Suiting up to play this game of musical chairs

As I look for a standing room only position,

Love putting me in a dangerous position

As I go from a king to a pawn 

Pawning my sanity, with no hope of a return ticket

As the truth telltale clock gets ready to sound,

Getting ready to ride this epilogue out to see how the morning looks

Getting ready to ride this epilogue out to see how my soul looks in the morning. 

Fire! Another Duce Wayne Joint!  Reminder: Be on the lookout for his first Sci-fi novel Lincoln Stone: Return of the Grim Reaper. Coming Soon!

The Word Spoken

April 1st, 2010 | By Malcolm Snax

I Will Always Remember You (True Story)

Having only five minutes

To tell you what you meant to me

So I reference those years for a minute

Giving them five stars 

As I remember those sun sip lips

That gave me intellectual pleasure

As I remember telling them I love you

As I worship your moon lit body  

Your essence ruled my soulful currents

Remember telling you that I’m so gone because of you

And you would say I just want to be gone somewhere with you

Blushful demeanor, never dissipated with you  

With you, the blister paced world couldn’t touch me

Remember placing kisses on your soul as a thank you

And you making my body flare for an your welcome

And to make me remember the velocity of that moment 

I remember your radiance on the darkest of nights

I remember how your presence stole my oxygen

I remember how your kiss gave it back

I will always remember that I love you

  - Duce Wayne

The Word Spoken

March 21st, 2010 | By Malcolm Snax

Another Duce Wayne Joint……..

The Word Spoken

March 3rd, 2010 | By Malcolm Snax

Duce W. is BACK!!! (not that he went anywhere… I’ve just neglected to post his latest works due to my own incompetence  heavy work load! Sorry!)  I thought this piece matched the mind state of Snewtonia at the moment, so I’ll share it w/ you all….

The Word Spoken- ” Fair Assessment”

January 29th, 2010 | By Isis

Here’s another one from Daunte. Be on the Look out for the book!!! “Things I Learned While Walking”

Fair Assessment

There are too many rappers
Too many punchlines with no behind
Back, soul, or mic control
Not enough urban griots
No orators, just car doors
Slamming shut and rappers
Saying “Nigga what”in celebration
Too many rappers
Everybody’s fly
Selling records based off
Monotony and who
Was once state’s property
Too many cool guys
With mics , what happened
To rapping about the underappreciated
Life?
Too many rappers (more…)

The Word Spoken- Letter To MY Brother

January 20th, 2010 | By Isis

Here is another treat from Daunte’s upcoming book “Things I Learned While Walking” coming
in March 2010.

Letter to My Brother

The sound of jiggling toys
From your baby crib have ceased
The same sounds that
Kept me restless in
The wee hours of the morning as a kid
Now keep me awake
Because they no longer
Have life to animate the sound (more…)

Allure Chap. 1-2 (A Duce Wayne Production)

January 12th, 2010 | By Malcolm Snax

It has been five years since, Sonny LeBeau has been in the town of Allure and five years since he has seen his father, returning to the town to visit his father’s grave was not the way that he wanted to come back. His father wanted to shelter him from his lifestyle but Sonny always knew, he always knew that his father led one of the most powerful crime organizations in the town (more…)

The Word Spoken

January 8th, 2010 | By Malcolm Snax

Dreamer  

Table top admissions being counted like rising ticket sales, pulling the plug on the lamp as the shadow begins to cover my pupils. Following my own way and dismissing the title of pupil, one way street being rode blindfolded and with no hands but my knowledge is increasing the acceleration. Crushing the limit of how far someone can go within an lifetime, finding myself miles ahead of the race for normality, lips pressed to the air in front of me and giving the finger to the end of normal. No middle ground to what others believe is the path, bulldozing my path through what you believe and putting the foundation for something new in your lap, wishing you the enjoyment from the dance you will receive but hoping that you last long enough to see the end. Ending the old with an orgasmic taste of something neoteric and banging the stems so you can see the sights of the race, one by one filling your bleak vision momentarily with new sensations so you become addicted and when you’re ready just send your thanks to your friendly neighborhood Duce Wayne.       

Stay tuned for more from Duce Wayne….. Drama series Allure coming soon! DUN DUN DUN!!!!  Also remember to follow him on them twitters @ducewayne.

The Word Spoken – “Like Martin With No Gina “

December 29th, 2009 | By Isis

Meet Daunte. Originally from St Louis but now residing in Chicago, he has decided to embrace his gift of the pen and invite you all on a journey of prose.  He is currently working on his debut book of poetry, detailing his experiences with love,life, spirituality and the day to day trials and tribulations he’s faced being an educated black man.  Here is one of the pieces that was sent to Snewty to give you ladies and gentlemen just a taste of his talent. Be on the look out for more info regarding Daunte.

Like Martin with No Gina
(inspired by Kanye West’ “Flashing Lights”)

You got me sneaking
Into Facebook checking
Inboxes for foxes and snakes
Slithering in the garden
Waiting up late for text replys and such
I could say forget it and leave it alone but
I’m invested way too much

Unanswered questions in my brain
That stain the daily apprehension
Of believing in love
You got me missing hugs
Sunday naps and all the
Raps verbalized in your dedication
In the absence of your kisses
I’ve turned to grape swishers
“I’m not hungry” is my favorite phrase
Daydreaming in mid conversation
The symptoms of withdrawal
I’m in a daze
Shocked but not surprised
When you said It was over
Sober when the words settled in
Because by then I was high off
Your grandiose lies and self deception

The feeling is like you “ran”
When all I did was to try to understand
The steps to be a better Man
Our show has had more than
Its share of season finales
But the producer in me
Wanted to see another curtain call
While our casting director(God)
Was ready for another set of characters
From the atrium to the aortic valves
That pump the blood of my existence
I would have given You my last name
And claimed our transgressions
As a testament to the identity
Of endurance

Pacing backwards and forwards
Eyes focused on above
Fighting back tears when
Your name is mentioned
Feeling like a star when
The fame is missing
You got me on bended knees
With higher purpose
Attending service to make sense
Of three years that now
Seem so worthless
We always said we would
Go to church
Well I’m here now
And its all because of love

Best wishes

The Word Spoken

December 21st, 2009 | By Malcolm Snax

Grief  

How can you tell me that the sun will rise tomorrow, tomorrow will never come, cause you will never be there. There will always be the reflection of you in my glassy tears, as I drink glass after glass, slowly trying to blur my world so I can escape just for a single night. The night is my only comfort, cold so strong that it freezes my soul, freezes my bones. Loving the cold like a senseless drug. I am officially an addict, so long gone, never wanting to be found unless its by you, self destructing and only want to be saved by you. Ready to face destruction only to find out why you were taken. Taking every road traveled to find an answer and always finding traveling answers. My body degrades, waiting for comfort which never comes, the degradation slowly becomes my hunger, no words can sustain me, no peace can be found, not till I have you again. Ready to disrupt the lingering world peace to have your peaceful eyes linger on to me. War brewing in my spirit, no crease fire in sight and stepping in the line of fire for the sight of you. Just a glimpse of you will do, so in due time I will wait till the boom takes me to you.           

- Duce Wayne

The Word Spoken

December 10th, 2009 | By Malcolm Snax

Duce definitely did his thing on last week’s piece… click here if you slept on him!  This week the subject matter hits home.. kind of like i wrote it myself!  Anyways, Duce has some big things on the horizon so stay tuned and follow him on them Twitters @ducewayne!

Lust

Six in the morning, the sun shine cuts through my iris as I approach my summer vacation, super heated atmosphere causing me to ditch my vest and tie, not looking forward to summer school so I tie the answer to this test to the back of her head. Professional user of those around me and my soul needs another fix as I itch her scratch with a soft breath across her breast, layer of sweat flows like a spring storm, her layers dissipate on this daily date and I print her body with vibrating touches, broken English vibrates through out the nightly speech as broken promises vibrate through a soon to be broken heart. Close but distant, hated but loved, taking passion to a momentary position of discharge as I become in charge of her devotion, following promising strokes with prayer but the compromising nature of this puts a stroke in that prayer. Exploding vessels as the moon light cuts me away from you, your body enjoys the illumination of the explosion but my atmosphere returns to a timely cool as her fear of the aftermath presents itself on time. No time for you anymore as you want more and I re-stitch my clothing and leave before six in the morning comes back.

The Word Spoken

December 2nd, 2009 | By Malcolm Snax

Breakup letter 

Dear unsuspected love, perfected reasoning leads me to this course of action. My heart, no longer active. My body no longer craves our activity’s, finding myself craving time apart from a suffocating apartment. Making dinner trips to refill my oxygen, lacking the hunger to make this union plentiful so I put us through this painful fasting. Never wanting to hurt you, so I pull the fading adhesive of this band-aid holding us together off, so we can heal faster. Not feeling the heartfelt logic in this, only feeling the tears trickling down. Your emotions only tickle your perception of reality so you hold on while the rift goes wider, saying this is just an simple tiff that can be resolved but this measure wouldn’t even be passed by Congress. Pressing for my humanity to be bought forth into law but I pull rank and put a veto forth before this issue is pressed. Can’t feel pressure to ease your broken heart with broken promises, so I let your aorta heal itself by way of a doctors order and by way of my prescription I finish my script and take my leave. 
 
Sincerely,  
Duce Wayne

The Word Spoken

November 15th, 2009 | By SDot

Two Boxes

Two boxes. One blanket. One basket with four cans.
These are not the stage show props of a Broadway play,
Yet the property of the man who’s play now tours on Broadway Street.
He sleeps on bus stops wondering if a bus will ever stop
To provide him with a change of scenery.
But with no stage crew, he has no luck.
And since he stopped running when that luck ran out, He just sits… and waits…and prays!
No script in his play – Just one actor… One director.
Two boxes. One blanket. One basket with four cans. One wish.
A wish of reuniting with his two daughters, newborn son, and wife
Who all tragically lost their lives in a house fire
The night that he chose to extinguish his temptations.
And what was then casted inside of him
Were the roles of Self-Pity, Grief and Sorrow.
For while he was laying down secreting his indiscretions
He indirectly discharged his family and possessions into tomorrow.
Now the only thing that remains are
Two boxes, one blanket, and one basket with four cans.
The two boxes enclose the wedding chattels that were placed in storage
To make room for the new nursery.
The blanket once provided warmth for his son,
And the four cans in the basket are filled with all that remains of his family.
Humble be thy name,
For he pledges himself not to the allegiances of America, but to the Lord’s Prayer.
And through that faith he still sees their faces and speaks their names.
They still warm his heart. They still feel his pain.
And now I share a part of that pain and am meeked
As he shares with me his monologue on the bus stop;

As we sit… and wait… and pray.
And as the bus pulls up and I pay both fares,
I can’t help but to question the scenery of my own play.
What would my finale be? What would my dialogue portray?
What would my name in your mind mean?

Witnessing the deliberation, he grabs my hands, smiles, and says: “The Lord is with you!”
Scene.

– Sincere

To check out more of Sincere’s writings, buy his book here.