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Date Posted: 12:24:05 01/27/03 Mon
Author: N.a.K.I.X.e.M. of Abzent Minded Ink of O.M.N.I.
Author Host/IP: NoHost / 168.58.42.203
Subject: THE LOUNGE OF LYRICISM RIGHT?…Well I’m expanding my horizons in lyricism, beyond plain ole rhymes…this is a poem I wrote the morning after I performed some poetry at an Open Mic at this little club…I call this piece, “I listen…” this doesn’t rhyme at all, but I hope the content and the actual essence of the piece will grab you…***PEEP WITH OPENMINDEDNESS AND PACED LIKE IF YOU WERE TO HEAR IT…DON’T SPEED READ…SLOWLY CONSUME THE MESSAGE….ALL CRITIQUE IS APPRECIATED***

This will be recited at the next Open Mic night...

“I listen…”
-Oscar Ramirez - Nakixem a.k.a. Damien Christ

I listen…
I listen with ears cursed with attentiveness though polluted by lies and excruciatingly cleansed with truth…
I listen…
I listen to people bitch and complain, bitch, complain, bitch, bitch, bitch, complain and rambling endlessly of the unfairness of the world. The world which slowly tightens their nooses while they stand blindfolded on society’s scaffold. I have listened to the suffocation of lynched black men embraced by the luminescence from a crucifix’s fire while I listen to broke mother fuckers complain of the “extreme degree” of racism because they weren’t hired cause of their complexion. Is that torture? Nah…But what tortures you?

I listen…
I listen to the sounds of two poorly sharpened leads of pencils as they glide upon diaries engulfed in secrets. Two different girls pouring their hearts out with words while tear express what they are not able to write. Two different girls silently weeping as they describe their secret pain. Describing the fear they felt when having their first genital herpes outbreak. Remembering the rashes developing underneath their clitoris while blisters emerge to bleed intoxicated blood along with pearl colored pus. One girl, the skank that was the first volunteer to collapse on her knees, devouring pints of manhood, and possessing a cunt that would land on any desperate dick. The other, being raped at the age of twelve by a confused uncle who stumbled upon the tight rope of reality. He violently snatched her innocence while gently handing her his plague. Both suffer from the same physical pain, but do both share the same torture? Nah…But what tortures you?

I listen…
I listen as souls prepare themselves to either reach Heaven or Hell with a little boost from cancer.
I listen to car wrecks as flying fragments of steel pierce through children in back passenger seats while their parents’ skulls clash together. And the drunk driver in the other car barely realizes he wrecked.
I listen to children wonder who their parents are.
I listen to bitches repeatedly have abortions while I listen to girls crying in the moonlight, begging God to bless them with a child.
I listen to the cries of the mute.
I listen to the confusion of the blind.
I listen to the silence of the deaf.
I listen to the empty complaints of people that brag of their possessions but still want more.
I listen to better understand and to find out what REAL torture is.
I listen...
So tell me…What tortures you?

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