analogy.

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Granny

Teardrop

The sky is falling and Adele is calling, I’m Mr. Craig in an Aston Martin.
No clutch control, this guy is stalling.
I had a revelation this morning.
My life is moving sideways.
I’m moving faster than highways.
and my mind is set on the wrong thing I should be focusing on my grades.
And my heart is torn.
I need to cleanse my soul, I need to be reborn.
I feel like I’m losing grace.
I’m just saving face.
I’m in a distant place.
And my heart is racing.
And this fire is blazing.
I feel like plaguing the planet with no vaccination.
But I’m moving a little different these days, I just I should tell you that.
And any evidence of any obstacle or any setback.
Will get sent back to where it came from.
“But chill Ty’rone!”
“Ok mum!”
This is suicide! With a play gun.
This is do or die with Swiss Army knives and a chainsaw.
So come Jason.
Wait! Who you running?
But wait! Who you chasing?
You see, our hearts are moving in parallels but our minds are way too adjacent.
I can show you hell on this savage journey.
I can show that fire and brimstone could never burn me.
Pain in the highest form could never hurt me.
But surely.
You wonder where I get this reckless perspective.
And the voice of a Maasai warrior that has been neglected.
In a foreign galaxy and despised by its citezens, he’s been rejected.
Well, this is loud screams, but they’re silent.
A love song, but it’s violent.
This a dark journey in the coldest winter all the way to my minds asylum.
Am I innocent or militant?
Am I lazy or diligent?
Are you safe around hard working men or more secure with Dillinger?
Anyway, the devil is gully creeping tonight, I just urge you to stay vigilant.

- Ty’rone

My Skin Heals Well

Every lash, whip.
Belt buckle, zip.
Bruise, cut.
Nose bleed and bust lip.
Every tear and mark.
Scream, bark.
Bump and swell.
My skin heals well.
Every fight and fright.
Day, night.
Noon and midnight.
My skin heals well.
Every slap and punch.
Kick, push.
Grapple and crunch.
My skin heals well.
Every wire and lead.
Pain, belief.
Scab and bleed.
My skin heals well.
Every scratch and pinch.
Run, chase.
Jump and flinch.
My skin heals well.
Dust and dirt.
Blood, squirt.
Pain and hurt.
My skin heals well.

Once a man, twice a child.
Savage jungles, but I know what’s wild.
In the fire I lied.
And in the fire I smiled.
And in that burning bush, I burned those sticks.
Now the ash settles.
I am Phoenix.
I am Phoenix.
I am Phoenix.
Forget structures, buildings.
Mortar and bricks.
Fire burns them all.
I am..

You don’t know the amount of times I’ve fell.
So, whether heaven or hell.
Just remember.
My skin heals well.


- Ty’rone

Granny.

You must go through memories on a daily basis.
Then touch heads to see how the face is.
Count footsteps to find these places.
I can’t lie, I miss your black tea and your warm embraces.
Open your vision and witness this metamorphosism.
You don’t have vision but I’ve got the mission.
Complete this and we can get back to living.
I’m in a different nation so when I vacate for a vacation.
Don’t touch my face, don’t use your imagination.
I just wish you could see me and feel that sensation.
If your eyes are the windows to your soul.
Then Granny, how dark is yours?
It might be good because you remember me before I sinned, you don’t even see any of my flaws.
You don’t see the scars, the tears, the secrets behind these doors.
Inside my mind.
I find darkness like I’m blind.
As you.
Today we spoke and you told me of things you went through.
In a way we share the same story and it’s ironic that we share the same point of view.
But you may never see the shine of your first grandson.
You may never see any of your grandchildren dancing.
I often wonder why it’s like this but I don’t have the answer.
You said I’ve already been there and done it so its time to buy the T-shirt.
And believe me, when she’s was hearing that situation, boy was she hurt.
Never mind, rest your mind, because even the most precious rose was born from dirt.
She said she’s got 2 boys in England, me and my uncle.
I look at him like Phil.
Fresh Prince to the city, I’ll make room for him in my will.
But it’s funny how I still find it hard to discuss issues with my family that are real.
I guess I’m just reaching for a feel.
Reaching out hoping that someone can help me heal.
But how can I express my problems like you’re sitting pretty?
It’s a shame how you can’t see the city.
It’s a pity that I consider my issues, you make them look so silly.
You won’t be able to read this so I wonder if you can hear the emotion.
Life passes you by daily and you just go through the motions.
You said that’s just life and you have live with it.
I don’t know how you sit with it or deal with it.
To think of it.
It makes sick.
Just know, if you’re ever in the ICU.
I’ll be there, you won’t see me, ICU.
I know we’re separated by seas but I’ll fly through.
For you.
When all is said and done I guess we’re both blind.
You don’t see what outside, I don’t see what’s inside.
I don’t see the future but you know it don’t ya?
I see with my eyes but you see with your mind.
That’s a beautiful place, no space, no time.
You’ll see me when our souls are called up yonder.
Until then, we can day dream.
Because even Stevie wonders.

- Ty’rone

The Vent.

What do you say to the young man who thinks he’s 2 years behind his age?
Then what do you say when he tells you he hasn’t been eating properly and been rationing for days?
And he believes minimum wage equals maximum rage.
Whilst talking his eyes are watering like he’s peeling what goes into stuffing and compliments sage.
That’s an onion my young gun.
He’s reminiscing of the times him and his boys were out screaming “I’m on one”.
And if squares were numbered he’d look at you and say “I’m on one”
Serious times now, where’s all the fun gone?
He just wants you to understand his stance.
That he’s taken a chance.
With the devil to dance.
Now he’s two stepping without a weapon.
The heat is on and it’s got him sweating.
Future falling before his eye and it’s got him fretting.
Got him betting that he followed a misdirection.
But billboards remind him that when you started from the bottom there’s only one direction.
Empty pockets for the summers.
You can hear his heart beat louder than drummers.
Might need a discovery like Christopher Columbus because he’s in a city full of ranges and hummers.
But is that even motivation?
Guys balling out in G55s with private registrations?
Nope, that’s humiliation.
He goes home to listen to Wretch, you know punctuation, followed by some honest underdog Wale tracks on rotation.
He goes for walks to keep his mind in the clouds.
Spoken word? How absurd, he wants to perform to the crowds.
So he’s working with theses verbs and these nouns knowing damn well they don’t care, they just want the clowns.
He was zoned out so he bumped into some guy then noticed another was staring at him on the sly looking mean.
Can’t lie he had a nice suit and his trim was looking clean but it didn’t change the fact the guy was on the verge going green.
He rushed over like “that guy is homeless, he’s a fiend. This is his only income, why didn’t you take the magazine?”
I told him I’ve got bigger issues than a big issue.
Walk my footprints, what size are you?
I’m 10 and a half, that’s a biggish shoe.
But it’s ok for you.
Versace loafers looking like Biggie’s shoe.
The man soon realised there’s deeper things in his life from just one look in his eyes he sees love, hate and despise.
I still see the ghost and hear voice of my dead cousin Royce.
If you want to go further, then ay that’s your choice.
Listen.
I remember those moments.
Wish I could go back and reload it, set a camera for focus, take a picture and fold it.
Hold it. Forever, however, whatever I choose to endeavour will be different from him but I won’t forget you see I’ll always remember.
When you had a white gold chain and a Lexus, you were only eighteen.
And told me you’ll buy me a flying car when I’m fourteen.
Told me about girls and introduced me to Malice and Pusha T.
When’s the last time you heard you like this?
Watching Freddy Got Fingered, I miss those times.
They were just bliss.
It’s weird how things never stay the same.
Players change, different rules but still the same game.
No segregation, new slaves still wear the same chains.
Road to riches, good or bad we use the same lane.
They made sure I stayed good, I guess they seen I was intelligent.
It’s evil out here so to they look at me like I’m heaven sent but I’m hell bent.
On providing a place my mother can reside in.
So never mind him.
If he seems ignorant he’s just trying, he’s just trying, he’s just trying.
And I’d be lying if I said the pressure doesn’t get to me sometimes.
And I’d be lying if I said this empty bank account doesn’t make me consider some crimes.
Maybe I should follow the footsteps and the drawn lines of the one I always wanted to be.
Prison was a factor I didn’t see but freedom or incarceration didn’t even bother me.
I’d happily accept his respect, that would calm my sanity.
And it’s a struggle with my girl because I’d give her the world but if my mind takes me again I’d probably ruin her world.
It’s nasty how I’ve got these trust issues but she gave me her trust that I chose to misuse.
I refuse to lose and let some next dude step in my shoes.
So I do my best, I don’t want no more relationship blues.
My cousin asked me if I’m faithful.
I was like, I’ll practice monogamy as long as I’m able.
He said “you can’t, once a R******d always a R******d.”
And that’s so painful, it’s shameful.
What example are we setting for the young except the common black label?
And they tell me foster kids never get this far, and wonder how I even bear these scars.
In the light that’s shines brighter than all these stars.
I swear put this message above any lifestyle of jewels and foreign cars, smoking Cuban cigars and a weekly four girl ménage.
And I know bigger men have died from the things that I’ve survived.
Only twenty but I’ve lived about nineteen lives.
I’m quiet about it so this revolution will not be televised.
So look into the eyes of the young and stigmatised and tell them about hell because they’ve already found their paradise.
And I’m plotting dots on the board with my own pair of dice.
They’re like, she done that to you, how could you then save her life?
Boy if that was me, I’d watch her as she helplessly dies.
But I done it for a purpose that you’ll soon realise.
I’m desensitised by things laid before me.
So if you listen to my story it might get a little gory.
My childhood consisted of no toys but I’ve still got a story.
Have you ever had to stand naked in the cold at five years old until you finish every bit of food in the bowl?
No.
Well this is some shit you’ll never know.
They suggested counselling but I made the counsellor cry.
They kept telling me that I’d really need help one day and I was like “why?”
For some stranger to tell me about myself and evaluate my mental health?
And to come across like they care but that’s how they gain they’re wealth.
That’s how they brain wash youth by telling them a new truth.
Because they know everyone believe in qualifications and a fitted suit.
That’s why I don’t care about who you are or whatever.
I treat barristers the same way I treat the beggar.
Because a three piece doesn’t mean that you’re clever and a degree really doesn’t mean that you’re better.
So you’ll see two mermaids riding one unicorn before you see me fail or bow to a man in uniform.
True to form they think their power is above the norm when the fluorescent jacket is on, the one that’s greener than the lawn.
So when they haven’t got their baton, cuffs or vest.
I wonder how many officers make citizens arrests.
A lot of truth is hidden in humour so I suggest you digest whatever I say in jest.
This is so honest it’s hurting.
The more you read, the more you learn and writing this I am learning.
That the only thing in life that is certain is that things are uncertain.
Now you can see the diversity of the black boy at university.
Go from love letters to this?
I promise there’s more to me.
Life is just a violent mystery, we only learn from things written in history.
Take a seat and welcome to the meet and greet.
A chance to see my inner demons.
Nightmares of a runaway slave can’t stop me dreaming.
I’m unchained now like Django Freeman.
Wow.
Look at daddy’s seaman.

- Ty’rone

The Trial: Exhibit A.

When I was writing this.
On the radio - I think the station was choice, matter of fact it was Kiss.
There was a song playing all day that was making my ears sick.
It was Mr. Robin Thicke, you know, he had the lick.
Now, for a second, you might think these are blurred rhymes.
But this is the only way I know blurred lines.
Forget blue violets and red roses.
Analyse the equation of white powder and brown noses.
The true reason for addiction, nobody knows it.
Lined up on the looking glass, I watch as she blows it.
How the hell did I end up here?
Away from freedom now surrounded by fear.
Away from the churches to watching feinds shift gear.
I guess I, walked out of heaven right into the devil’s lair.
I want you to, picture this as the wild.
Young single mother, one child.
Seemed better overseas so before he walked, little man flies.
To the world of opportunity but opportunity is on demise.
So now he’s a witness to the sick magician’s crimes.
Observing the disappearance of a number of lines.
You know, now you see me now you don’t.
I’ve seen feigns disappear when when they can’t repay their loan.
You know, now you see me now you don’t.
The true reason why, I may never know this but I can only speak on all the things that I have noticed.
It’s like they take a sniff, you know that quick whiff to catch a little focus.
Or maybe the injection is a coping mechanism to combat the rejection that’s been placed upon them.
But I don’t really know so I can only pray for them.
I got a few family members that will sniff their way through the next couple festive Decembers.
Because they chose the pipe life over the wife and child life and their former selves nobody remembers.
I blame Thatcher and that pagan Ronald Reagan.
I mean, you guys are evil, you guys are like satan.
From the project of the projects could you really project this as a result? Was it that blatant?
Whatever it is, it was foul, it was flagrant.
Feinds on that Coco Chanel - no fragrance.
Why don’t we smell the aroma of the baking soda that seeps from the can pipe of empty cola.
Do you know all the things that I have seen?
All the raids that I’ve been in?
The violent scenes that I’ve seen, all the crack cooked around me - you should have seen all the science I have seen.
The amount of times I’ve watched a man turn fiegn.
On that Charlie so he’s winning like Sheen.
I seen some things that are just not meant for young pupils.
Like a man collapse, foaming at the mouth after a few pills.
There’s another side to the selling and the Lamborghini visioning.
On the flip there’s the fiegns and hell that they’re living in.
There’s another side the dealers big house picturing.
On the flips the feign probably hasn’t even got a pot to be pissing in.
All you see is rappers on your hi-def talking about wrapping up coke and whipping work in the Pyrex it’s mindless.
Behaviour, the youth don’t have a saviour they’re just living on a wish and a prayer.
Lord have mercy, it’s such a pity.
The product can make something pretty, sour and sickly.
Just look what the brown did to Whitney.


Ty’rone

Still.

How do you sit through church and still put sinning first?
Drink from the fountain of youth and still die of thirst?
Body in a Rolls Royce but your soul’s in a hearse.
How can you live right and still be dead wrong?
Weak hearted but still you stay strong.
Live fast die young, you know you haven’t got long.
Don’t believe in redemption but still you love the song.
How can you be low and still get high?
Claim you’re the shit so you stay fly.
Look to the dirt for those that are in the sky.
So you night ride.
In the day light.
To take the hassle off.
You pour a Smirnoff.
Emotions take control and you drown out a sorrow.
You die today and still live for tomorrow.
How can you think deep and still act shallow?
Got them thick thighs but still you’re brain is hollow.
People never get a look in, not even your own shadow.
How can you be joking when you’re still heart broken?
So now you’re vacant but still the door won’t open.
You despise love but stil that’s what you’re hoping.
How can you look at men as all the same.
Until you met a king and watched him reign.
And you’re the side lioness but still you want the mane.
With your disguise.
I couldn’t recognise.
But In your eyes.
They tell a different story.
And they’re never lies.

- Ty’rone

We Never Got To Sit On The Balcony.

We never got to sit on the balcony.
As I walk through the glass doors.
Pause.
There goes my epiphany.
Staring at you as you gaze at me.
This is the 20/20 Experience, this is perfect symmetry.
That tunnel vision, we’re suit and tied together.
And may our tie never sever.
Through the stormy weather.
Rainy or wether.
Cold or hot.
I’m still stood in this spot.
Tell you you’re beautiful so much I forget that you’re hot.
It’s just the way you make me feel, you know, the king of pop.
Ballerinas in the sky, I see the grace in your eye.
It’s crazy to think before we met, you made me shy.
Like, wow! I’ve never seen such a perfect construction.
All the others are watered down, they’re a reduction.
Hop into my spaceship coupe and call it abduction.
To the habitat of where the rabbit’s at to study the art of seduction.
Welcome to my wonderland.
Of course you have domain so I’ll let you wander and.
If you’re wondering now, that’s my wander hand.
It’s weird you’re away from home but still in the motherland.
Staring at you as you gaze at me.
There goes my epiphany.
Pause.
As I walk through the glass doors.
We never got to sit on the balcony.

- Ty’rone

New Niggers.

White people running round throwing around nigger.
Puff their chest out when they say it to make them feel a little bigger.
Say that around me I’m throwing rock like jigga.
These new age blacks are confused and weak hearted.
Makes me think it must have been like this when slavery started.
Black on black crime, we’ve clearly got the wrong target.
Selling drugs to our own, we’ve clearly got the wrong market.
We need a revolution, I’m about to kickstart it.
Forget the peace talks like Martin did.
We need some fighters in the camp like Malcolm did.
Exterminate the Dr. Whos like darlics did.
Cause the new blacks are just acting stupid.
These new boys are more concerned about jerking.
Same time they’re afraid to put the work in.
Of this I’m certain.
I see it and I’m hurting.
It’s sickening.
We’ve known from the beginning.
How can you hate on another’s melanin.
They killed our forefathers now our souls troubling.
Bloods bubbling.
Volcano opening.
Boiling point - erupting.
White supremacist - chucked in.
At times my heart is as cold as Antarctica.
Thinking over how they pulled us from our Africa.
The motherland.
Sold us around America and Europe and.
The sad thing is we look over the fact that our own sold us, see the emperor was Nigerian.
Damn.
As a people we need to keep moving and improving.
The minds of the generations to come cause this one is clearly losing.
We got a chance to win but it’s the knowledge that they’re refusing.
As a people we need to harmonise like fusion.
It’s a pity cause.
They put us in the situation and against our own is how they pitch us.
And they pity us.
Ever wondered why our grandfathers never smiled in their pictures.
Now this is the.
First time you’ll probably see that I’m black.
And this is the.
First time you’ll probably think that I’m wack.
But these are the.
True words that I’ll never take back.
Amen.

Ty’rone

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