WEBSITE: —
LOCATION: —
RECORDS: 7
LATEST RECORD: over 2 years ago
JOINED: January 06, 2010
LOCATION: —
RECORDS: 7
LATEST RECORD: over 2 years ago
JOINED: January 06, 2010
All Aud-ONE's RECords
|
Often we'd laugh and giggle like unexplainable bliss, a little slip, hit and miss, but quick to cover it up with obliviousness Hush, a pale face turns red and blends in with your lips, an elegant index finger is attracted to the end of your kiss What am I to this? I am the receiver to your amaranth face, gave your heart a taste to knock my dispositions in place Not too loud, not too soft, suspicion raises a disapproving brow, excommunicate us from society 'cause they think we doin' what now? What, how? I hope my reach contacts your cheek at the end of my palm, struggle through the storm and procrastinate the end of this calm We know we're well aware that what we're doin' is wrong, we may not have long untill our feelings are gone Illuminate the soul, so often we'd go... ... done |
|
|
|
|
These hands and knees are stained by a carpet I rarely ever clean, my fumbled whispers are only heard by my own ears and suffering My wants are abandoned, my needs: necessit-ized, I fill the pit of my stomach with hopelessness and thoughts with empty eyes I no longer look at sound, no longer see vibration currents float across a steady ear, just another disappointment and another night spent bent up in fear I am hope-bound, so if only for one night, I can sleep with a restful head, count my sheep from here to there instead of flopping around my bed I am instilled with some form of assurance of my existence, that "forgotten" is a state of mind and not a physical state you take when no one listens I am like anyone else, another helpless human being, if only I could replace my resilient words with what the world thinks their seeing What we really want is for someone to listen and reply to our cry for help, then maybe we'll cure each other, and then free somebody else Fly to the worlds rescue, spread our wings and pay it forward, release humanity from its shackles of fate and self-inflicted horrors But I warn you, if it is too late, and my wishes are never heard, my ambitions turn to lies, Im just another bird imprisoned in it's cage and waiting yet to die... end... NOTE: i just came up with this off the spot, its not too good right now, but... i dont know if its any help. haha |
|
|
|
|
|
Truth. Spoken. By: Samson "Aud-ONE" Tafolo My person may be animalistic because my buttons are greased with oily fingerprints, and suicidal tendencies are conceiled by my on-going ignorance This is an "I Am" poem, authentically revealing who I am, as I take my confessions out of a box and confine them to the limited space and lines of a successful mead pad Humanity showered me also with an Achille's heel for the shallow obsessions in living, but focus more on the salinity and depth in which my morals are sinking I embrace knowledge and philosophy while stirring in a little fun, these may be words of a poor man, but also those of a humble one I speak absurdism; for lies, I remain liably accounted for, accused of cracking the door slightly open then just kicking the shit out of it I'm frowned upon, I'm unreliable, and a complete waste of space, I clean my teeth with hip-hop and bazooka-tooth tooth paste Another rosary for my ear holes, and a riot shield for my misbehaved beliefs, my christened outlook was lost dust across a shoreline and burned down in a Christmas tree I'm that "good 'ole" feeling, ushering in a minor twist, a mysterious creature that crosses a Jabberwocky and the English Scroobius Pip The projected image in your retina's display that my wings are slightly snipped, but I'll B-boy, kill a jub jub, question my existence, and mutter coherency through my lips I spit bomb loogies, it's just in my "genes," maybe what Moses Supposes? I'm refreshed with bazooka tooth breath while suckas drench crowds in halitosis I could be the best and worst person that you could ever be homies with, while the world flips bitches, I'll scrape the shit out of my mouth with a wooden tooth pick I ain't down for talking shit, I'm sarcastic in many ways, I'm like a still picture in HD busting open the outer frames I'm a regular human being, I have flaws displayed in a poetry limelight, I procrastinate in spite, I do what I like when I'm cloaked by the shadows of night I'll destroy, not break, every law in society as long as they don't contradict my convictions, put the whole world's two lips on the rim and take a sip out of the pot that I piss in I don't care about what you think, maybe just about me as a human being, I have thoughts so angelic, they grow wings and scrape the underlining of heaven's ceiling I'm as simple as you, as confused and questionable of what humanity is all about, you probably know more about me than what I've got figured out I don't support McDonald's, I hate the Fortune 500, Wal-Mart, and Target officials, America dick rides with sweet tooths and ignores their rusted, old tooth brush bristles I'm the way I am because I write the way I wanna be, I could strip the words off the page and replace them with what you see Open up imaginary doors, imagine this and that without being counterfeit, crack the door slightly open or take my advice and just kick shit out of it Who the fuck are you? Wait, before you say anything, what did you think was the literary contents of this note? did you think I was just another hungry kid with a bag of chips on his shoulder waiting to trade them in for dough? I will never sell-out, I'm forever down with the art of spoken word, even if my shit starts to rot and my rhymes are never heard My mother named me for nature, which was her maiden name before she married Disaster, my step-dad spoke up and saved her because my real father was always plastered He reeked havoc across the continents, I was ashamed, so attained the family name of my step-father, I almost died when my cousin on Disaster's side: Greed, invented the first dollar Or when Kain killed Abel, and first blood from humans were spilled by his brother, and when countries started to settle disputes by strategically killing each other It was up to me, to carry the tradition of my family into the modern age, I am alive and re-written every time ink spills across a page I am in every one of you, as common and consistent as the holy ghost, I froze the lies and sin on one axis and failed the hearts of the most I am the reason that you write, I am the thought that makes you think, I am there before and after the blink of your eyes and at the end of your brink I am the voice of the God's, I am the foot of this race, I am against all odds, I am the voice of this age I am the height of our world, I am, both, the one and the two, my first name's: Truth, and my last name's: Spoken, now who the fuck are you? End... |
|
|
|
|
|
A Period Without a Tampon By: Samson Tafolo "Do this and that" obey like a fool, unknown amounts of youth are being used like a tool From classrooms and text books, shotty trends and fake looks, to child rebel soldiers being lynched on steel hooks Violence is always a factor in not achieving the peace we need, a fatal flaw in the human genes, unsatisfied with guilt and greed Poverty is promised for posterity in a later age, shame instead of smiles on our face, grab the book and burn the page A little freedom would never hurt a human being, taking blows and always bleeding, free their minds from what they're seeing You're being deceived by the world you're living in, plastic smiles, notorious sin, begin to change face and shoot a grin No matter what they say, you are not a snail tightly tucked in it's shell, possessed with an evil spell, blasphemize and damned to hell I would say caterpillars, being still inside cocoons, nervous and petrified that their time is coming soon A fragile thing, but that magnificent creature will awake from it's beauty sleep, no longer being a beast, or treated like a freak Fix the picture, massive numbers of mortified and hungry souls, taxed for shitty clothes while capitalism spits in their food and breaks their bowls South Bronx to South America, we're all going through our own jihad, struggling through life and war, we eventually will be robbed Of our life by material possessions, peace will never find the human race until we rid humanity from material obsessions Whether it be land, money, hookers, or food for being fed, the human defect will not allow us to cease until a tear or blood is shed Democracy is just another system to obey, like capitalism and terrorism, that sketchy shit is all the same I don't believe in systems and I don't believe in class, I don't believe in companies that sell products for fifty dollars that are used to wipe your ass The only race I know is human, the only alien I know is God, the only way we act is stupid, the only life we know is jihad If peace is a conspiracy theory or an idea that slipped through a crack, I'll pack my ideals inside a noose, kick the stool and won't look back End... |
|
|
|
|
|
"Where I store my humiliation is in the vertebrae of my spine, a slipped disc, I'll reminisce, but soon enough, I'll pay no mind My broken heart is in my head, more like a DVD skipping chapters, or a CD on repeat scraped up from the disaster Or did my aorta and such cut loose and filled the pit of my stomach up with blood cells, red cells and acidic fluids form battery acid that repel Do I keep love in my eyes? possibly limerance in it's purest form, infatuation and shallow thoughts traced back to my brain from where its born I know hate is stored within the knuckles of my fist, if I could trade hatred for love, I'd replace my hits with a kiss My depression for necessity, my blood clot ego for selflessness, my thoughts are up my ass searching for some fucking common sense I would give an arm and a leg, to replace this emptiness for someone to else feel, affection is in my fingertips, but my hands are rusted steel But all is not lost, my head may be in the wrong place, but I will always heal the scars inflicted on the surface of my face I will always clean my hands and sanitize its lonely state, as long as I have grip on my fingertips, my resilience won't go in vain My eyes don't just see shallowly, they see through imaginary windows and walls, and to guide my shred of hope every time I start to fall My broken heart is not broken, just a little love impaired, the acidic strings aren't attached but still I'm a little scared I can shackle my knuckles and release to open up my hands, these were made to create not destroy my motherland So I can store love and expression and give birth to works of art, the human race is one not single people torn apart But our beautiful fingers and hands are physical pathways for us to repent, just tools because we create from our souls instead" ..... just something i came up with off the spot. just a rough draft. haha |
|
|
|
|
|
Truth. Spoken. My person may be animalistic because my buttons are greased with oily fingerprints, and suicidal tendencies are conceiled by my on-going ignorance This is an "I Am" poem, authentically revealing who I am, as I take my confessions out of a box and confine them to the limited space and lines of a successful mead pad Humanity showered me also with an Achille's heel for the shallow obsessions in living, but focus more on the salinity and depth in which my morals are sinking I embrace knowledge and philosophy while stirring in a little fun, these may be words of a poor man, but also those of a humble one I speak absurdism; for lies, I remain liably accounted for, accused of cracking the door slightly open then just kicking the shit out of it I'm frowned upon, I'm unreliable, and a complete waste of space, I clean my teeth with hip-hop and bazooka-tooth tooth paste Another rosary for my ear holes, and a riot shield for my misbehaved beliefs, my christened outlook was lost dust across a shoreline and burned down in a Christmas tree I'm that "good 'ole" feeling, ushering in a minor twist, a mysterious creature that crosses a Jabberwocky and the English Scroobius Pip The projected image in your retina's display that my wings are slightly snipped, but I'll B-boy, kill a jub jub, question my existence, and mutter coherency through my lips I spit bomb loogies, it's just in my "genes," maybe what Moses Supposes? I'm refreshed with bazooka tooth breath while suckas drench crowds in halitosis I could be the best and worst person that you could ever be homies with, while the world flips bitches, I'll scrape the shit out of my mouth with a wooden tooth pick I ain't down for talking shit, I'm sarcastic in many ways, I'm like a still picture in HD busting open the outer frames I'm a regular human being, I have flaws displayed in a poetry limelight, I procrastinate in spite, I do what I like when I'm cloaked by the shadows of night I'll destroy, not break, every law in society as long as they don't contradict my convictions, put the whole world's two lips on the rim and take a sip out of the pot that I piss in I don't care about what you think, maybe just about me as a human being, I have thoughts so angelic, they grow wings and scrape the underlining of heaven's ceiling I'm as simple as you, as confused and questionable of what humanity is all about, you probably know more about me than what I've got figured out I don't support McDonald's, I hate the Fortune 500, Wal-Mart, and Target officials, America dick rides with sweet tooths and ignores their rusted, old tooth brush bristles I'm the way I am because I write the way I wanna be, I could strip the words off the page and replace them with what you see Open up imaginary doors, imagine this and that without being counterfeit, crack the door slightly open or take my advice and just kick shit out of it Who the fuck are you? Wait, before you say anything, what did you think was the literary contents of this note? did you think I was just another hungry kid with a bag of chips on his shoulder waiting to trade them in for dough? I will never sell-out, I'm forever down with the art of spoken word, even if my shit starts to rot and my rhymes are never heard My mother named me for nature, which was her maiden name before she married Disaster, my step-dad spoke up and saved her because my real father was always plastered He reeked havoc across the continents, I was ashamed, so attained the family name of my step-father, I almost died when my cousin on Disaster's side: Greed, invented the first dollar Or when Kain killed Abel, and first blood from humans were spilled by his brother, and when countries started to settle disputes by strategically killing each other It was up to me, to carry the tradition of my family into the modern age, I am alive and re-written every time ink spills across a page I am in every one of you, as common and consistent as the holy ghost, I froze the lies and sin on one axis and failed the hearts of the most I am the reason that you write, I am the thought that makes you think, I am there before and after the blink of your eyes and at the end of your brink I am the voice of the God's, I am the foot of this race, I am against all odds, I am the voice of this age I am the height of our world, I am, both, the one and the two, my first name's: Truth, and my last name's: Spoken, now who the fuck are you? End... |
|
|
|
