AS IT IS
Dancing with moves of a ratchet crew
Mechanically regurgitating gestures, demonstrated as “the right thing to do”
Why hide the God in you?
How can we live here and do nothing
Let them season us with propaganda that confuses
our thoughts into rubbish
It’s called a feast of dreamers
Breeding us into resources that support their family’s greediness
Daily we submit
Committing ourselves to dosages of pleasure
The quick fix
Stretching as long as our money’s spent
Time bottled
In exchange, a newer model
Earning dimes with side effects, giving symptoms of never satisfied
And we never bother to wonder who labeled us the misfits
Unfit to rule the consciousness born within the “I” of we
The eyes of me
The separation between man and beast
Tamed with chains we voluntarily latch to
The artist creating new expressions of a greater you
Somehow we’ve given them the copyright of life and
now we pay them dues.
But that’s what confusion proves,
Give another the power to think for you
And you’ll be sure to reach destruction soon
Catastrophe
The big boom
Their celebrating in the confetti of divided particles
Diced up knowledge of what we once knew
Leaving no positive remains
Trees bearing hollow fruits
Seeds of cloned morals
Religion wars have become the biggest proof
Following a cascade of promises led by a fearful root
Let’s put a halt to seeking infinity through the monarchy of loot
Let’s colorblind ourselves and grab a hand that’ll help each other thru
The class of the higher educated
Born into a world widely militated
Reorder peace unto the sapiens,
Excuse me, the human beings
Living in a dream of finite things with a sight of the all seeing
Open your conscious realms, unify with the whole of all that is
Don’t remain so complacent with the fantasy of limited fields.
K rystle “Kismet” Wilson
Urban Art
Urban Art, at one time it was Napoleon Dynamite. The eclectic guy that everyone brushes off until he does something amazing, and they act
as if they loved him all along. Until they realize he can't be controlled, then they hate him again. Held close to the hearts of a generation dying
to be heard and understood, what Michelangelo produced on ceilings is what a teenager with a spray can concocts to the side of a train, or
abandoned building. Corporate America tried to take it from the streets, clean it up, and then sell it back to the streets,via some advertisement
for a product that's probably slowly killing us, but we know the difference. As we like to say, "real recognize's real," and your marketing campaign appears alarmingly unfamiliar Mr. Corporation. It's not about the colors used, or the curvature of the lines. Moreover, it's about the
struggles conveyed, the hustle of the lifestyle, and rawness you can't duplicate in a controlled environment. Urban Art is more than art, it's a
culture. A culture ran by the streets, for the streets. Love it, or simply leave it alone.
FRESH
EXPOSED
BACK ALLEY
Shawn Elliot
12