iambs in blue (draft 2)

by Rhys Langston

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1.
2.
02:17
3.
04:08
4.

about

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

mixed
media,

langstonia,

came to breathe,
puckered up

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

creation of the artwork: youtu.be/TU9Tl6VfePw

the words: rapgenius.com/albums/Rhys-langston/Iambs-in-blue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

credits

released January 1, 2016

(draft 1 released February 11, 2014)

All tracks written, produced, performed by Rhys Langston

Album Artwork by Rhys Langston

Mixed by Agruv of Agruv Studios, Norwalk, CA

Mastered by Dave Cooley of Elysian Masters, Los Angeles, CA

A Black Market Poetry Production

tags

license

all rights reserved
Track Name: Conventus (a Short Story by Muckraker Jones)
chorus
went to a repentance convention,
got the shirt, the hat, the mug,
a Donald trump tramp stamp
clamped to a blood crippled
jazz transfusion,
was no delusion
of grandeur,
Pasteur,
Pastorius,
Jaco, Oscar blade-running bass-line ordinance

[at home]
ate my porridge quick,
was on the press guest list,
VIP slip

verse 1
the panels were alright,
took some notes for late that night,
saw no deliberate deliberating,
booth sections combed with sight:
all irrelevant,
Muhammad’s yamaha,
(Jesus’ horsepower)
some bearded dude explaining how he got there

“Buddha” he said “straight shooter,”
“as the crow flies,”
barber to a Sikh Mughal

earned no cash,
instead created the zero out his ass,
abacus flash parallel to some
Zapotec Math
just a ball inscribed upon the wall of a temple:
rubber ball Spaulding,
used for Michelin incidentals

he invited me to a lecture
on conjectures
of house negro problems in post-colonial Tribeca.

outside, a vendor was selling some New Holland
for some wampum
or prophecies of oil futures,
shell of a man, comb over needed some suture,
think Karl Rove meets Mr. Burns sans appearance of a moocher

I kindly said no, scratched my fro, entered the door
and as I sat a power point showed Justin Bieber as a Sambo

Chorus


Verse 2
The lunch was reminiscent of some new edition soft ciabatta

Jimmy Hoffa would have protested with Bambatta,
remixed the salad,
replaced the soda pop culture with some water

I thought,
“where is the redemption in high fructose Chocolate Davis,
“Harlem salt shakers,
“renaissance with bagels capers?”

Chucked it, stepped outside
before the serving of Yahweh’s wafers
(into the sun)

doubt was the paint of the shadow on my shoulder,
negrometer read incognegro,
poems in the folder

Nero took the G out of identity,
burned the construct down,
bleached his own historiography.
Track Name: Langston
esoteric asshole
panflute piper ragdoll
physics unclear lyrics,
havok engine gimmick spirit

nonsensical perceived believed,
them academic standards,
wine taster holders,
check the message after grammar

densely worded orator
hortator,
telvanni lore,
never been a nerevarine
with words,
but a “ therasaur”

outlander in interior,
posterior foresight,
mics, baked beans,
boston grips XLRs tight.

fuck it,
break matza
commentate like Costas,
color coded appearances,
renting hair for the opera

powdered with a side of beignets,
the shade of grey that
eugenicists will praise
infiltrator, they know it, nay

the muckraker reeks of sewage perfume,
exudes the rancor of the digested,
hardened cocoon
the holes have been impressed
in the flesh of the leaves,
the subject’s predicate,
eat the worm, please

500 dollar haiku about a metamorphosis

--------

creative ADD cools critiques left in the fridge,
left of center freon tipped
thoughts tangibly unbridged
passively inhaling the ashes of those past burnt,
asphyxiating loneliness
sans mental dessert

the insulin of curt scripture drafted in dark,
multi-syllable diatribes masking pain beneath the art

the heart, the spark, its murmurs ignite vision
greater than the ocular prism with UV rhythm

IR, invisible
sees one indivisible,
dented skull from several expelled racial theory visuals
no binaries in libraries
but Vonneguts and sonnets,
indelible like Ellison
eating moon cheese like Gromit.
Track Name: Piecemeal
Chorus (x2)
motherfucking realness
molecule machina
dos on the regular
opens the falafel truck
(Baklava biome)

go home, words, you’re drunk,
associating with all types
insinuating schmucks

Verse
quipu soufflé
leave that stomach in knots,
dig a turnip from the underground
and give him dap or not

ate the bones,
phoned home,
and dropped drones on porcelain domes,
ate a dinner roll,
smoked a bowl
and watched some Gary Old

so
serious Black,
rhyming rhythms stay on track,
3 letters of the first name shared,
minimalist rap

matter fact,
fuck the nomenclature stated

I’m greater than cheese graters,
shredding all these whack 2 timing MC fakers
(c’mon)

Chorus

(Turn in song to other, industrial instrumental)

Refrain
GMO Cornrow, church, liquor store,
GMO Cornrow, church, liquor store,
GMO Cornrow, church, liquor store,
GMO Cornrow, church, liquor store,
Fresh food,
Chicken nugget, fuck it, bucket, KFC,
crop 18-inch,
Jesus and his mac ’n’ cheese
(fucking mac ’n’ cheese)

Verse
So,
delinquency,
that’s key for he

She says free hugs are not for me

The book is on a new type frequency

I see the plants just be.

Cathode LCD taken
by Muckraker Jones,
on the phone when we atone, eyes forever in that zone,
the brains of all the youth dripping from that sugar cone,
correction, high fructose, blown,
big thighs about she moans,
‘cause there are half-foods, not a whole, in the ghettos of the mind

See well like C.L.
when peeling capitalist rinds,
hind quarters and land mines
of tin foil hats with Signs,
life’s like Shyamalan,
after the start, a steep decline

up St. Charles on tree products,
rubber harnessed from the earth
in the end they want it gone,
Mother Nature gives no birth
would they reassess the fact
if the green that they grow
Was instead green grass
sprouting from their head to toe,
And their skin was invisible,
Showing complete lack of soul?

Would the roles change and we’d step on them like soil?

Refrain
Track Name: Minstrel Makeup Sex (Bars for Sale)
Neo-Babylonian
minstrel make-up sex,
Cyrus the great, wilding
Elmer Fudd index.

Neo-Babylonian
minstrel make-up sex,
Cyrus the great, wilding
Elmer Fudd index.

black roses grown from concrete sheets
centuries immense in dents of house speakers’ treats deplete
this native preservation, expressive weapons, words that breathe
fibrosis mystics, CEOs, swap genes
free market bars for sale beside GMO beats and leaks
uprooted before the mastering and streamed as complete

executives directing urban runoff tributaries,
estuary, elementary capacity evidently

flagellum magistrate,
urchin, orchid robed mycelia,
underground moss, records for floss
costs and prison gates

sketched in docket, prophets oscillate,
sated lust of waterway,
gate break,
skanking Nixon,
monitor of the hall way.

(What the hell are you talking about?)

fuck a spoken word, a silent one,
post-genre bubblegum,
post-modern pre-conceptions of pastime pendulums

hi-five the lowpass filter muffling the bullshit,
smack someone upside the head and take back the pulpit

Tabernacle assholes puke up less factual
equations, gesticulations, saturation,
mixtape hasslers,
hustlers
but only to speed,
creed to volume of their song list

get this gist?

but none are pissed
change this
No more.

bespeckled devils selling bars cheap ass hell,
2 for one sale,
old english coupons in the mail,
post-fat, post bail
snails pace is progress o’ soup heating pot of fail-safe béchamel—
the “winers” want their hip hop like a pocket pussy
with a side of
cultural assail.

Only for pleasure
with no connection
to the context of construction,
acutely obtuse angles
on the gravity of reduction

been handed pamphlets on conscious rapper
production, instructions for polarity
formation in gradients,
but fuck that

fuck subtext.

ears ain’t trying to flex,
lyric based music now a creative simon says,
a circle jerk of some
Neo-Babylonian minstrel make-up sex,
while Cyrus the great, wilds on the
Al Jolson index.

diseased comedy,
bed pan hospice monotony,
middle aged monogamy
to pop cultural sodomy,
fallow, follow, falling lottery,
numbers on apostrophe,
commodified racial expectations
false anthropology

consumption:
cooperation
buying power:
download nation,
value of a one song:
nonexistent, streaming inflation

no moral to the story (Aesop)
hip hop, rock appropriation
permission never given, asking past
love it, hate it

yes massa rappers
conscious actors
yes massa rappers
conscious actors
yes massa rappers
conscious actors

Neo-Babylonian
minstrel make-up sex,
Cyrus the great, wilding
Hallam J index

Neo-Babylonian
minstrel make-up sex,
Cyrus the great, wilding
D. dub Griff index

Neo-Babylonian
minstrel make-up sex,
Cyrus the great, wilding
Al Jolson index

Neo-Babylonian
minstrel make-up sex,
Cyrus the great, wilding
Elmer Fudd index