Freestyle. Strut your stuff.

Reply Fri 17 Feb, 2012 10:18 am
your rap is like a present i rip up and then descend it
admit your rap is made of ****
time to flush you down the toilet
like some milk i had to spoil it
first off you need to learn to spell
yeah cold like a demon sent straight from hell
this is intense but ill still leave you in suspense
you dont make dollars, well at least try to make some sense
0 Replies
Reply Sat 7 Apr, 2012 10:55 pm

The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister is a 2010 British television biographical drama about a 19th century Yorkshire landowner Anne Lister.1 The Real Anne Lister2 followed on Australian television. Anne Lister (1791–1840) was a wealthy, unmarried woman who inherited land from her uncle in 1826.

Just for the record and to place Anne Lister and her diaries in some historical perspective, 1826 was the year the second president of the United States, John Adams, died and the year the first photograph was taken. And also, just for the record, the view of early 19th century England, at least in literature, in fiction writing is seen, for those people who read 19th century literature, through the eyes of Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters.

Throughout her life Lister kept diaries which chronicled the details of her everyday life, including her lesbian relationships, her financial concerns, her industrial activities and her work on her 400 acres. She was a polymath, an autodidact and a traveller. She lived at the centre of the Regency era, a period which historians call the pre-Victorian period from 1811, when the formal Regency began, through 1837 when Queen Victoria came to the throne. The Regency was the period when King George III was deemed unfit to rule and his son, the Prince of Wales ruled as his proxy as Prince Regent: 1811 to 1820. The Prince Regent became George IV in 1820 on the death of his father.

I’ve been keeping diaries for more than 25 years, but I don’t think mine will ever have quite the spice that Lister’s had or have. Thanks to the direction of James Kent and the starring role of Maxine Peake as Lister, with a script by Jane English a mass audience in this third millennium, more than a century and a half after the diaries were written, can get a taste of Anne Lister’s 4 million word diaries. If my poetry is included in my diaries I can match Lister in quantity, but I can’t turn the erotic screws on for millions and billions of viewers, mirabile dictu. The Real Anne Lister reveals a complex character: pioneering, self-serving, rebellious, manipulative and bold.

My diaries are far too philosophical and religious, intellectual and exotic, concerned as they are with the new religion I have been associated with for nearly 60 years.3 I, too, may be complex and pioneering and many of the things Lister is or was. It is difficult to assess oneself.

A sixth of Lister’s words concern the intimate details of her romantic and sexual relationships. I’ve never quantified that portion of my diaries, poetic and otherwise, that have a highly sensuous style and manner, content and mode, but my diaries would not entice the voyeur. There is little turn on those whose interests are sexual. Readers of Lister’s diaries, at least those who would want to engage with the digest of her 4 million words, will not in all likelihood get bored. I cannot guarantee the absence of boredom for readers who come to my memoiristic works.

The film The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister premièred at the 24th London Lesbian and Gay Film Festival on 17 March 2010 and was screened in Australia tonight, 18 months later. -Ron Price with thanks to 1ABC1TV, 13 November 2011, 8:30-10:05 p.m., 2 ABC1 TV, 12 March 2012, 12;30-1:30 a.m., and 3 the Baha’i Faith.

Some said the film1 was sex-obsessed
on those wild-windy Yorkshire moors:
this story of the first modern lesbian, &
part of the fountainhead of queer studies2
say some scholars of lesbian sexuality!!

Her pioneering life and wide-ranging
travels as well as her relationships in
those sexually charged 4 million word
diaries concerned themselves with the
social & emotional lot of lesbians in an
era of oppressive patriarchy….The film
did not preclude a bit of hot girl-on-girl
action for those of a puerile and yet of a
punctilious nature. Snatching that carnal
ecstasy from stolen moments with a true
love will have a claustrophobic and yet a
a curiously liberating effect for some of the
millions and billions who will see this film.
The complexity of her character and what
happened to those diaries was as remarkable
as Anne Lister’s life & her writing: mirabile.3

1 The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister
2 Queer studies is the critical theory based study of issues relating to sexual orientation and gender identity usually focusing on lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender(LGBT) people and cultures. Universities have also labelled this area of analysis Sexual Diversity Studies, or Sexualities Studies. Once only meaning odd or unusual, and later an anti-gay epithet, "queer" used in reference to such individuals and communities remains controversial.

Originally centred on LGBT history and literary theory, the field has expanded to include the academic study of issues raised in biology, sociology, anthropology, the history of science, philosophy, psychology, political science, ethics, and other fields by an examination of the identity, lives, history, and perception of queer people.
3 Latin word for marvellous. I have found, especially as I have got older, human character to be highly complex and Sue Perkins, who takes us on this journey through Lister’s life, reveals this complexity for viewers.

Ron Price
13/11/’11 and updated on 13/3/’12
Reply Sun 22 Apr, 2012 04:07 pm
Quick 32 bars got me thinking on top of my dome/
first days was the worst days when playing with stones/
paid days got me working with metal and chromes/
had to get that cash, stash the mac n settle at home/
cause i was heating up like a kettle does in the slum/
yeah thats right i was born alone left in the slums/
i'll die alone, even though im protected with guns/
born and raised as a hoodlum now got me ******* with thugs/
i wish i never did, but gotta sin in this life i live/
life is sinnin, crimes is commitin since i was a kid/
i aint kiddin, my main aims to plot and make more than six figures/
look now i be living a marvellous life, livin it high/
killin it high, full pockets like rockets got me reaching the sky/
reach the sky with no limits, 40 mill got me this ILL figures/
**** a spliff, im sipping hennesy with rich niggas like rich diminds/
cigars, fancy cars, dress large **** niggas know im all in it/
but truthly i dont big it, just said it now but keep it low/
spin it with those keys of coke, my pees i dont wanna show/
cause i know that i'll have on my back is these fake g's n foes/
fake bitches make my temper grow, but i keep it peak n slow/
be all neat with clothes n show that i aint weak like hoes/
Check it, beats I wreck it and come to u then snatch ur neckless/
Leave u breathless, chop ur neck off now u can’t breathe ur neck less/
Left chainless real, took ur stainless steal, beat ur eyes out leave u speckless/
u got beat on and left with a bump on ur head, got u looking pregnant/
That’s what happens when **** u shouldn’t mention with the wrong Segment/
Uhh MURDOCK got shot, **** nahh he a ******* beast/
Any nigga up front him come confront him best believe he a ******* g/
Keeps it peak, don’t be where the weak be, with guns he speaks/
Converts his gun to a mouth and makes it eat his enimese/
takes out the heart and makes his enimese get on their ******* knees/
see em ducking G, cause they know its their last time to ******* breathe/
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Reply Sun 22 Apr, 2012 04:43 pm
0 Replies
Reply Fri 27 Apr, 2012 11:40 pm
u think ur **** is the best omfg i dint know
u got slowflow well mines more
u get 30 % extra cuz ur fucked up u cant battle me
man even though ull be more than 20 years
n im just 11 thought ill let u know
cuz i know ull be wonderin how the ****
do i have such a big flow
and i rap tight even though im not white
so shut up cuz ur rhymes are broke urself
wat u don even know me i kno ima new homie
but how can ur daggers colide with my throat
u see u got no place in this gangsta world
so u better go home or else
ull get ur ass fucked up
and man i don wanna go on forever
or u guys will think imma flow writer
cuz im not imma rap writer
so ill end this **** wid a **** u
but have a nice day
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Reply Tue 1 May, 2012 12:03 pm
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J all day
Reply Tue 3 Jul, 2012 11:39 am
Hey there bambino
you'll never make it there as a rapper
it's sad
you might as well make a living with a taxi cab.
Yeah your not g
No you are just a hater
Makin your tips standin by an elevator
Ha the only woman that loves your face would be your mother
So take 2 steps back and lay off
You mother f...er
you think your Rollin hot
But your really not
Now Don't get your feelings hurt
But compared to mine
Your rap Is dirt

0 Replies
J all day
Reply Tue 3 Jul, 2012 12:01 pm
Hey there bambino
you'll never make it there as a rapper
it's sad
you might as well make a living with a taxi cab.
Yeah your not g
No you are just a hater
Makin your tips standin by an elevator
Ha the only woman that loves your face would be your mother
So take 2 steps back and lay off
You mother f...er
you think your Rollin hot
But your really not
Now Don't get your feelings hurt
But compared to mine
Your rap Is dirt

0 Replies
Reply Wed 24 Oct, 2012 10:10 pm
This 2 all yo haters, pretend MC's,
Playing sh1t music bout birds an the bees
You ain't no neon trees o black eyed peas
But tell me this, neither am I
At least I'll admit it, bring it mad guys
Dis it and pis it and kiss it (smooch)
I'm sure mad enough to go and list it
Freestyle the whole while you ain't half bad
Ain't half good either fukking douchebag
Maybe some language will make yo listen up
Sorry ass bi1ch bullsh1t don't give fukk
Am I speaking yo language now dude
Or put you in even worse of a mood?
I'm done for now bros, but I'll be back. Ready to give you a heart attack
Reply Thu 3 Jan, 2013 01:42 pm
He's never coming back

Mr bad words, yer a sad turd, douchebag, (word!)
Got jet lag? Just as much as, the next fag, you dead, man
You talkin bout bein g, yo no OG, know me?
Just showing, that I can beat something that I used to be
Aaron is you, Aaron is me, jacks no real...
Check please!
Reply Thu 18 Apr, 2013 05:30 pm
Just few bars I wrote up back in 07 when I was locked up n my homeboy had passed away like a month before this was written, just kicked in few facts bout my nigga Tango, just layed out these bars backed then n recently found em, though i'd share my written work back in 2007 with yall. R.I.P Tang TEE Tango.

That nigga Tango
Lived a smart life but chose to kick it
Packed ounces of crack
On the block niggaz claimed em the realist
As a young kid he was known for stealin
Watch what ya expose, tango might steal it
Growin up in the hood he started sellin crack
Had no chance in this game without havin a gat
thats something he taught me
Survival mode was low, u never know when bullets may blow
So he kept himself packed, strapped incase of being jacked
Brought up by a dope fiend mother
No father figure in his life
Addicted to crime, at night he used to sleep with nines
Paranoid, smoking weed daily
That good kush ****, never know when enemies gon pump clips n put hits
Yeah that nigga tango done things he shouldnt off
Left a pack of haters pissed off
They put a hit on him, price to his head
But kept on missin him, tryed make sure he dead
Instead he fled n went, made allies with gangs hopeing they got his back
Moved on from crack to bringing kilos
In the hood he was well-respected, known hero
Bringing numbers after livin under zero
Kept himself active and livin lavish
sittin back laughin cause he new his styles flashy
Too persisten, ahead of his time with clear vision
Although livin it, he was unaware of clocks tickin
Still kept on his **** watchin shipments bringin his **** in
But was never alert of being caught under surveillance
Full tapes of him accomplishing his mission
Federals brought him to justice
Justifying his habits, persuading judges for capital punishment
Neither did he know rats was snitchin, his game was ****'d, they was shuttin it
bitchin behind his back these fuckin rats, federals was lovin it
Second degree Murda, distribuution of drugs he got sentence to life by crooked judges
Felt like a crook, had nothing to say so he kept shut
Went inside state prison, never felt comfortable
He didnt know few phoneys was in a cell a floor below
They became boys neither did he know them boys was foes
Those phoney niggas planned to whack him
Hired assassins to invade his space n attack him
sharp shank wrapped with plasters bout to cause a disastour
14 years into his sentence, he sat back layin in his cell
He was set up by 2 inmates left dead in cell.

0 Replies
Reply Thu 9 Jan, 2014 03:33 am
I write mostly prose-poetry, and here are some examples below on a single theme:

Baz Luhrmann, the audacious director of The Great Gatsby, was packing enough box office muscle to knock even Iron Man from the No 1 spot when he got off the plane in Australia from Cannes to be greeted by the news that his $180 million adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald's literary classic was at the top of the international box office, 10 days before its Australian release on May 30 2013. While this film was in the air, I thought I’d post a few items, several personal perspectives, which I’ve written over the last few years about this famous novel, novelist, and some historical, some sociological and psychological perspectives.-Ron Price, Tasmania.

They were a whole race going hedonistic, deciding on pleasure. -Scott Fitzgerald in Freud, Religion and the Roaring Twenties: A Psychoanalytic Theory of Secularization in Three Novelists--Anderson, Hemingway and Fitzgerald, Henry Idema III, Rowman & Littlefield Pub., 1990, p.5.

An old world was dying
all around them as western*
civilization began to lay the
foundation for the new one
so few knew, had any idea.

At the Somme and
Passchendaele the
dull thunder of the guns,
the trench warfare
saw millions die while
writers began to quietly
pen more words for very
different kinds of war for
a new order in our world.

It was just then taking its
first form as that great war
was ending and orders were
changing directions and forms.

But it all happened so quietly as
noise changed the face of Europe,
as religions died on the battlefield
and people in the millions turned to
sex, alcohol and secular substitutes.

They roared into the twenties with
the flapper, bathtub gin, howling jazz,
silent screen movies, lavish mansions,
sleek automobiles, and lots of glitter
and tinsel--missing the first formative
years of an order that would change
the face of history, and exhaust the
energies of young men and make them
old before their time; holding the world,
the new order on their shoulders was too
much as the world went hedonistic, went
for pleasure—and millions still are caught.

Ron Price 5/4/’96 to 22/5/’13.


All the sad young men of Scott Fitzgerald, and the lost generation of Ernest Hemingway, are seekers for landmarks and bearings in a terrain for which the maps have been mislaid. Theirs was the god-abandoned world of modernity where individuals define their own code, summon the necessary discipline, if possible, and make their story: tragic, pitiful, human, an infinity of secular trajectories through space, with nature as all and nothing at the centre, except perhaps a slowly crafted self with all its ambiguities and mysteries, some old and tired religion, and immense quantities of popular-literary psychology. -Ron Price, with thanks to Robert Penn Warren for his “Ernest Hemingway”, Modern Critical Views: Ernest Hemingway, editor, Harold Bloom, Chelsea House Publishers, 1985, pp.35-62.

The order was just taking form, then,
and happiness far removed from the
glitter-and-tinsel of mere sensations,
astonishing immediacy, flourishing
moments of now…A freshness was
found in depth and poignancy in a
vision of oneness quite profound
and a background of civilization
gone to pot, war and death with a
gratification raised to cult-status—
sensation…A whole new basis for
the intellect deeply laid in the life
beginning to form in this new and
technologically united world, and
even more so in the 21st century.

For this new form had been watered*
with the blood of millions and more
than a century of searching, finding,
intense discouragement, sweat & tears.
Here was new meaning, new wine in
new bottles, not just the accidents, the
changes and chances that seem to form
this mortal coil, human nature struggling
intensely within confines, always confines.

Private spaces with fate, self and all that makes
this life of grandeur and emptiness, pleasure and
pain, simplicity and staggering complexity, small
places and an infinite universe. Here were faintest
beginnings back then, the earliest architecture: all
that pain and wonder packaged in the eagles' wings
of writers and poets who prophesized with their pens.

Ron Price
26/2/’96 to 7/4/’13.

* F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway, among others, did most of their writing in the 20s and 30s. It was a remarkably creative literary epoch in America. An international order, the precursor of a future world order, took the form which was necessary for our world to operate within, as Bertrand Russell said it must if we were to survive.


Part 1:

It is not so much my authorial ego, or that I am a compulsive self-historiographer, which compels me to document my life more fully than most. All this poetry is my workshop where my awareness of life expresses itself quintessentially. I also see myself as part of a global pattern, a representative figure, part of a mytho-historical process which may be of use to future generations. I was born into a new age when a new world, an international, order was just beginning. In my lifetime the administrative process, the nucleus and pattern for a new order, went through a radical growth period. I have been committed to the promises and possibilities of this new way of Life.1

As F. Scott Fitzgerald was committed to and had a belief in American life in the 1920s, as American was going through new beginnings so, too, do I feel strongly, passionately, a new commitment, a new belief and new beginnings, part of our survival.

Part 2:

George Bull points out in his introduction to his massive biography of the life of Michelangelo that people are often best understood "in the crowded context of the significant changes and continuities of the age."2 The age I have lived in and through has also faced "significant changes and continuities." My life, I have little doubt, can be understood, too, as Michelangelo's and so many others have been understood, in this same general context of their age. -Ron Price with thanks to 1 Matthew Bruccoli, editor, The Notebooks of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Harcourt, Brace and Jovanovich, NY, 1945, p.vii; and 2George Bull, Michelangelo: A Biography, Viking Press, 1995, p.xviii.

I, too, saw myself as coming at
the end of a historical process,
so complex, staggeringly so. It
had its beginnings in the districts
of Europe, with birds flying over
all those countries ,& those men
with beards and I identified with it
strongly, still do after all this time.

I was born near the start of yet
another formative age: would
it last as long as the Greeks?1

I understood profoundly well
the claims of this new belief
as you did the claims of your
craft.2 I was, like you, fortune's
darling in this new age & I was,
too, the shell-shocked casualty
of a war that was more complex
than any of us could understand.

1 the formative age in ancient Greek civilization lasted from 1100 to 500 BC; this one which took place in modernity began 30 years before I was born and it’s still going strong, in a war to end all wars, a war still going on.
2 F. Scott Fitzgerald, arguably the major American writer between the wars: 1919-1939.


Part 1:

In July 1937 Sheila Graham(1904-1988) met the famous writer F. Scott Fitzgerald. I was reminded of this tonight while watching The Great Gatsby. This 1974 screen version which I watched tonight is the most famous of the several translations of this novel into cinema. Mia Farrow had the role of Daisy Buchanan and Robert Redford of Gatsby. The screen version which opened in May 2013, may just trump that 1974 edition.

Graham immediately fell in love with Fitzgerald so we are informed in several biographies. Graham was an English-born nationally syndicated American gossip columnist for 35 years especially during Hollywood's "Golden Age.” Hollywood’s Golden Age is said to have lasted from the end of the silent era in the late ‘20s in American cinema, to the late 1950s.

I was able to enjoy a decade of that Golden Age viewing movies as I did from 1949 to 1959 from the years of my middle childhood to middle adolescence. Sheila Graham told some of that Hollywood story in her columns. Thousands of movies were issued from the Hollywood studios in that Golden Age. It is said that Graham wielded the kind of power that could make or break careers.

Part 2:

F. Scott Fitzgerald was the author of The Great Gatsby(1925), a literary classic. The 1920s, like the 1850s and the 1890s, was a period of exceptional literary creativity in America, illuminating the cultural complexities of the decade. Graham was quoted as saying, "I'll only be remembered, if I'm remembered at all, because of Scott Fitzgerald."

Sheila Graham’s autobiography, Beloved Infidel, chronicled her relationship with F. Scott Fitzgerald. She played a part in immortalizing his life through that autobiographical account. Edmund Wilson (1895-1972), an American writer, literary and social critic, as well as noted man of letters wrote, in a long review in The New Yorker, that Graham’s Beloved Infidel was ''the very best portrait of Fitzgerald that has yet been put into print.''

That account was a best-seller and became a movie in 1959 starring Deborah Kerr as Graham and Gregory Peck as Fitzgerald. I knew nothing about that movie in 1959. We had no TV; my mother had sold it; if I saw the movie at the local Roxy Theatre I have no memory of the experience. I was 15, a star baseball player in my small home town, and was in love with a girl around the corner from my house.

Fitzgerald and Graham shared a home and were constant companions while Fitzgerald was still married to his wife, Zelda. Zelda was institutionalized in an asylum at the time. Graham protested her description as his "mistress" in her book, The Rest of the Story, on the basis that she was "a woman who loved Scott Fitzgerald for better or worse until he died." They were together only 3-1/2 years, but her daughter reports that Graham "never really got over him." During those three years, Scott outlined a "curriculum" for her, and guided her through it. She later wrote about this in detail in A College of One.

Part 3:

Upon Fitzgerald's death, seeking a respite from the social demands and frantic pace of covering "the film capital of the world," Graham arranged for an assignment as a foreign correspondent in London. This also afforded her the opportunity to demonstrate her abilities as a serious journalist. Her first interview was with George Bernard Shaw, and she would later file another with Britain's war prime minister, Winston Churchill. Her brief respite from Hollywood would stretch to the conclusion of the war.1-Ron Price thanks to 1Wikipedia, 19 April 2010.

That best-seller came out
the year I joined this new
world Faith back in 1959.

I took an interest in all this
watching Last Call on TV.
This teleplay, I’m told, was
like BelovedInfidel; it was
the story of the last years of
Scott Fitzgerald’s life when
the structural basis of a new
civilization, administrative
order, was firmly laid. This
was the greatest of the many
collective acts of the world
community--little did they know
at that point in the long first half-
century of its young, arduous,
and stony history in our culture
with the future of civilization in
its bones but so very few knew.

The culmination of that 25 year long
labor had come to a close with victory,
a fame, undying, this climacteric, in this
final hour: history’s greatest war opened
with the death of 60 million about to be
part of our modern history and our story.

Ron Price
19/4/’10 to22/5/’13.

0 Replies
Reply Mon 7 Jul, 2014 04:49 pm
My mind is starting to clear like a fogged up mirror,
Trying to steer my life in the right gear,
So stay clear for death and love is all I fear,
My mind is racing, my body pacing,
My soul needs saving, tough decisions are what I'm facing,
Craving for my life to be released from satan,
I'm finally getting my life in the right place
As I race to the meaning of grace, and clear my evil thoughts for a place,
For my good and serving traits,
Hate to look on past events, trying to prevent any relent that got me so dense,
I just want some dead presidents to represent my trendz,
Sometimes I feel the world isn't worth livin',
But life eventually moves on with a better beginning,
I'm like a crack head fiening,
For the answers and reasons to lifes meaning,
And I'm skeaming to make it big as my diamonds are shining and gleaming,
While visions and images pass by when I'm dreaming,
I feel like I'm in my own world sometimes,
Trying to shine but every time I get mine,
It seems like I'm staggering as I walk the straight line,
And most of the time my life forgets good and heads toward crime,
But sometimes I feel that's OK and at least I found something worth dyin,
And at least I'm smiling, instead of cryin, from my love life line
0 Replies
Reply Thu 10 Jul, 2014 06:46 am
Part 1:
Stuart Hall died 5 months ago today on 10/2/'14. Life is busy even in retirement and I did not become aware of Hall's death, or aware of even a very general picture and overview of his life until I came across his obituary as I was surfing about in cyberspace through the content of a series of electronic journals that have been part of the bread and butter of my reading since taking an early retirement after a 50 year student-and-employment life, 1949 to 1999.
The high point in the career of Stuart Hall(1932-2014) was in 1959 when he was appointed founding editor of the new left movement's flagship journal, The New Left Review. Hall helped organize this 'new left' as a cultural, intellectual and political movement. He was a Jamaican-born cultural theorist and sociologist.
Part 2:
Hall, along with Richard Hoggart and Raymond Williams, was one of the founding figures of the school of thought that is now known as British Cultural Studies or The Birmingham School of Cultural Studies.
I have taken an interest in Stuart Hall because he was one of the leaders in some of the non-traditional forms of cultural studies along with the historian Eric Hobsbawm. Cultural studies have been on my agenda, in one way or another, since the 1960s. In 1959 I was only 15, in grade 10, totally absorbed in sport, family and school. I had just joined the Baha'i Faith and I knew nothing of Stuart Hall or the new left.
Part 3:
In 1962, when I began my travels for the Canadian Baha'i community, Stuart Hall had become the leader of a loose collaborative grouping that came to be called British cultural studies. Stuart Hall's place in the history of the academic humanities is secure. Who else has played so substantive a role in establishing what has become a global discipline or, at any rate, a post-discipline? He was a great & fine person. Much of his work invites ongoing engagement if not agreement.
In 1979 he became professor of sociology at the Open University, attracted by the possibility of reaching out to those who had fallen through the conventional educational system. He remained there until 1998 – later becoming emeritus professor – launching a series of courses in communications and sociology. Increasingly, he focused on questions of race and post-colonialism, and on theorising the migrant view of Britain that he had always cherished.-Ron Price with thanks to Wikipedia, 10/7/'14.
Part 4:
I never really got to know you,
Stuart, just so busy with endless
hours of teaching, of talking and
listening, of going to meetings, of
raising three kids and dealing with
the demands of marital life, of my
health, of settling into a new town,
new job, always something, Stuart!

Now that I am retired from that life
of demands, 1949 to 1999, and the
reinvention of myself as a writer
and author, poet and publisher,
online blogger and journalist has
given me a new lease on life I was
able to find out a little about you.

Yours was quite a story, Stuart;
you certainly helped to launch a
field which I now dip into during
these years of my retirement; it's
a kind of linking-pin for me in the
vast field of the social sciences &
the humanities and will help to keep
me busy until the last syllable of my
recorded time on this planetized, this
new global civilization busting-out!!!
Ron Price

0 Replies
Reply Sat 23 Aug, 2014 06:27 pm
Cripplin' villain in the buildin'
Crickin' into the system like a Glitch or a criminal
Get your penicil, Penicillin to kill the feelin'
Peelin' back but let me backtrack to the rhyme part: "criminal"
My attempts at success are minimal
But I'm so damn good I guess I go against my will
Hit to kill, this isn't a figment of your imagination, this is spittin' real
Salivate on the mic to agitate and aggravate whomever wants to rap at me
I'll happily start battling, but it ain't a battle waitin', it's elimination
Cravin' these statements like you was pregnant and impatient
This is a midnight break-in, here comes the bait, clean slate
Or filthy grates, filthy? Great!
Dirty rap is all that they ask for, hey (hay)
But that's for horses, if you're a man or a morsel
Of course ya mortar a quarter of the population
with obnoxious wastes of rhymes, you reek of lameness
You're an animal making my rap personification
Look obviously faded but I'm honestly jaded
Your only safe and sacred sanctum is taking place in your parents' basement
You want to fire the bullet well save it, the bull is taking charge of the situation
Invasive on personal spaces, no shame invading
But being put with today's greatest is just so dang degrading...
Bang bang two grenades I'm blazing
Blunt trauma bad karma straight to the brain, think; no explaining
Thoughts often lost in the process
Drop a bomb in a mosh pit
Mustard gas to kill the pain, man that gas is noxious
I'm gaining, blades swing, waving it polished
Watch this raw flip like I taught some crossfit
Why walk the talk if you can't, talk the walk
And why stop the jog when you can rock the rock?
Stop the watch, stop the clock
Stop the rot, stop the spot
Time will drop a beat and you will know it maybe
Time will not compete until my flow is maybe
Saving more than time it could be lives...
Hear the lies, hear the cries, hear the fights
Hear the might, hear the trial, running miles
On this rap y'all talkin' crap I could take a nap
It's tiring, inspiring, I'm firing
My 9 at these empire fiends and rivalries
It's music, you knew it, get to it
Just view it, pursue it, ensued this
Confused **** computed no clue?
Is it true?
All my fumes? Are let loose?
In a few moments I can lose...
All I knew for my ruse
I can shoot at the moon but it's full, that's old news
Some things you can't change
Like bad days, or last graves
In a mad craze I wander the maze
My life is trying to mold a rainbow with black clay
It's impossible, my negativity is on a roll
It's like I'm living out the final chronicle
Blurry and one-eyed holding a monocle
I'm ripping my hair out, lost every follicle!
What do I saunter for...?
I dishonor more than a samurai who forgot his chores
Diabolical, I chop the cords
And now my voice is hoarse, inaudible
The gravity of the situation is astronomical
Thoughts all unstoppable
Everything must remain logical but it's paradoxical
I want a hospital but I'm too lost to even find a home
In the end, I'm the only one responsible...
0 Replies
Reply Wed 15 Feb, 2017 02:19 am
Using oracles smith n wesson
Affordible hidden weapon
You think your an adorable little blessin?
**** you,
that was a rhetorical ******* question!!!
Ill make you bleed, your just food to eat
Not In my league, theres only room for me
Break your teeth,You shouldnt be in the mood to speak(ohhhh lol)
2s n 3s im bringing you to school this week
Aint nothing new to beat
Im tired of puttin these dudes to sleep

0 Replies
Reply Wed 15 Feb, 2017 02:52 am
Yo bambi..you never gave me any credit
No matter what I do or say you never acknowledge that I said it
To you I guess I just wasnt worthy
I would come home tired and early
Work on my craft about 11:30
I guess because people like you really never heard me
you damn well know i was on the site since the start
I was dedicated to the craft n even Honed the art
You showed no interest so I started tearin **** apart
You never gave me the props I deserve and it wasnt even hard
Ive surpassed my limits, that much is evident
But now your my witness that im something better then
Your average letterman jacket wearing veteren
I was part of the foundation like an element
Im something fundamental like H20
You dont even know,
All I ever wanted was a "good job"or a "way to go"
But nah
You didn't even have the common decency
You rather choose to b mean to me
My skills growing from the fact I wanna b on the tv screen
This message isnt to you individually its from the voice thats unheard
Im not talking to you specifically im just sharing my word
People like you never look twice
Your all ******* cold as ice
its ok , when you cross the street I aint gonna save yo life

#neverending rap battle

0 Replies

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