her mouth danced about my neck,
turning my stomach inside out.
i just lay there, thinking
love is more injury: not sickness.
if only I’d known
that C.P.R.
can kill.© 2009 Constantine Kulakov
Yo tengo un zune y tú?Yep, me 2. And I’m proud of it
hey is that a fake ipod?
…i actually don’t have either :)
That’s the place! Rockville, Maryland. It’s good to know that famous people once walked where you walked.
by David Lehman
The happiest moment in a woman’s life
Is when she hears the turn of her lover’s key
In the lock, and pretends to be asleep
When he enters the room, trying to be
Quiet but clumsy, bumping into things,
And she can smell the liquor on his breath
But forgives him because she has him back
And doesn’t have to sleep alone.
The happiest moment in a man’s life
Is when he climbs out of bed
With a woman, after an hour’s sleep,
After making love, and pulls on
His trousers, and walks outside,
And pees in the bushes, and sees
The high August sky full of stars
And gets in his car and drives home.
if you want to see madness…
Love it or hate it, but Lil’ Wayne is the voice of our generation.
This could be because he has topped the charts for years, or it could be his art. He’s a sort of Bob Dylan of hip-hop: both crossed cultural lines (Dylan led the hippie counter-culture during the civil rights, Wayne is releasing a rock album and references all pop-cult), both released over ten albums, both were controversial.
For some, this is not a voice they want to admit to; Lil’ Wayne is not preacher (he doesn’t keep forcing everyone to live some “good” lifestyle the way socially conscious rappers like Common, Talib Kweli, or Mos Def may), he’s an artist.
In history, art is a mirror of what life was like (we look at paintings to see how people lived); today, even Wayne’s distorted voice seems to reflect our digitized, computerized lives. This voice isn’t something we necessarily agree with. It’s the reality. And if someone can spit reality out into poetry, we can DANCE. We can make it through. And that’s life. Good art, good poetry is not preaching. It’s simply a clear picture. For some that’s a problem.
What they fail to realize is that, just because Wayne said it, doesn’t mean he agrees with it. Even though he raps from 1st-person (i did this…), Lil’ Wayne himself doesn’t identify with hip-hop culture:
“you just an earthling, you ain’t never been to Wayne’s world,”
Really, he doesn’t identify with his own culture, or even any culture. Simply said, he’s “a martian,” an outsider.
We see this in his lyrics. Lil Wayne doesn’t proclaim that hip-hop culture should stop being shallow, he simply comments with lines like:
“rap about money, and a *bleep* might sign you.”
In doing so he does not force anything, he just says it the way it is: love it or hate, the industry is controlled by money. Yes, he talks about doing what might be wrong, but its honest, its a picture. And in every picture there is the beautiful, as in the lines:
“and my daughter is my sky,
I swear I look in her eyes,
and I just want to break out and fly.”
Art is also about the new and breaking standards of hip-hop. For decades, the art and business of hip-hop has justly responded to police brutality by expressing the injustices. It has become a standard to refer to police as “pigs.” But Wayne, the artist, the “martian,” comes out with “Mrs. Officer.” All of us sudden the music that denounced law enforcement can laugh about it. He doesn’t hate cops, he loves them (or sleeps with them). This breaks barriers, this allows people to respond to the tension more lightly.
I don’t know why I though of Bo today. Maybe it was because Nas never sounded as good as he did today coming through my speakers and into the warm spring air. Maybe because days like this always make me a little nostalgic.
I moved to South Carolina my sophomore year of high school. I moved from Wisconsin where the “best” store the mall was a Deb’s but usually I got my clothes from JC Penny. I was tiny, a nerd, and Russian at that. I had no idea what Sperry’s were, I didn’t own a Coach bag, and I thought North Face was the name of some mountain. Needless to say I became an outcast by lunchtime of my first day.
I don’t like to talk too much about that period because it was kind of painful. Not only was I not liked but I was picked on and made fun of. My parents let me be homeschooled the first semester of my sophomore year because after two weeks I was an emotional mess. I came back by second semester and stayed on through till graduation. My senior year I couldn’t take lunch time anymore so the principal allowed me to go home for lunch.
Where does Bo come into this? I met Bo in French class. He was big, so big in fact that people used to call him Biggie. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw him. Bo was always laughing, always telling jokes, and quite often getting in trouble. Bo was also one of the few people who treated me well at that school. We bonded over my interest in rap. He introduced me to all the music that I love so much now and I would entertain him with stories of my life in Russia.
It was the one class I looked forward to going to. Every day I would walk past the “sorority” girls with the Lacoste polos and Seven jeans, over to the back of the classroom where Bo would be waiting for me. He would tell me about his “girl” troubles and I would try to give him advice. Sometimes we would get in trouble and get seperated but most of the time the teacher would just shake her head and smile.
Bo is one of the very few people that I think about or miss from that school. I will never forget his big laugh, his big hugs, and the kindness that he showed to me.
beautiful
