don’t want to be a rapper.

don’t wanna be a rapper.

i’m a strange parable;
alien, descendent of allegory.
illegal contraband, inside my mother’s womb
when my parents crossed across
for me to go over these mental borders and hurdles.

“always running” past “the house on mango st.”
we are that “rose that grew from concrete.”
“holler if you hear me”-
“the pedagogy of the oppressed”;
“anarchist cookbook”;
and about a million and one manifestos and “fictions.”
“the teachings of don juan”;
and “thus spoke zarathustra”-
“the nausea of my metamorphosis.”
i am “the stranger.” i am “the stranger.”
“savage inequalities,” “savage detectives”-
“los de abajo,” and this is just
“life and death on the south side of chicago,”
and this is just
“life and death on the south side of chicago.”

yo, i don’t want to be a rapper like the ones on TV.
i want to be more like dickinson, well like emily,
have you go get my poetry from the library,
have you go get my poetry from the library.
‘cause i try so hard to just be ,
but i must admit it starts feeling so lonely.
‘cause i try so hard to just be ,
but i must admit it starts feeling so lonely.

read a book;
fuck a hook,
and be introspective.
i want to live
in a world
where people aren’t afraid to think.
fuck following a leader or the state.
this president has left us disappointed,
and most the populous- alienated and disenfranchised.
the manipulation of the working class poor
by segregating them,
imprisoning them
until finally silencing them,
and making them feel like aliens
on this planet. in this country,
there is no education,
simply indoctrination,
so pledge allegiance every morning,
and say your prayers in the evening;
and do it for god and country,
and not for liberty,
and not for democracy,
and especially not for the people
‘cause that would be so communist.
but i resist;
raise a fist,
and keep on fighting anyway.
‘cause i resist;
raise a fist,
and keep on fighting everyday.
‘cause i resist
raise a fist,
and keep on fighting anyway.
so i resist;
raise a fist,
and keep on fighting everyday.

06.19.13.
 

18 thoughts on “don’t want to be a rapper.

  1. Man – powerful, dude….. Friggin powerful. Illegal contraband as an embryo – parents looking for a better life – crossing the border – roses raising up from concrete, I am the stranger…… ripped my heart out man. There is more in those few lines then I’ve written in a month. And while that ripped my heart out – it was your “I don’t want to be a rapper like” verse that caressed it, so endearing, so incredibly touching, open, human. You just voiced an emotion that every poet who ever lived has endured…. so powerful. And Dickinson is my soul mate – so you won me over bro….. Beautiful poetry – only wish I could have listened to your recording. Only one sour note for me – that’s the politics. I always say give to Ceasar that which is his – the rest is for you and me……. Just my own quirk I think, politics and religion are too dividing imo. Why lose half your audience for nothing more than political talking points developed by scoundrels to keep sheep grazing and fat..? I think if you took out that part then this poem could easily rest on the shelf next to Dickinson, Neruda, or Byron (who produced an epic poem about Don Juan….) Other than that – completely awesome Frausto……..

    Liked by 1 person

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