An honest dialogue about love, life, and everything in-between...

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Not With It

5:35 PM |

You know....
I don't think this poetry shit is for me
Cause if the only way I can prove my legitimacy
Is to spit prose about the power of my pussy
I ain't in it.
Not with it.
Not me.
Seems like the female poet gets dealt the same cards as the female MC
The crasser the rhyme the bigger the cash
Be the man hating bitch and they let you pass
But I can't do it.
Not with it.
Not me.
Is my message any stronger with a bitch, shit or fuck you?
Is the essence of my femininity tied to the many things my tongue can do?
Do I have to be the lonesome bitch
With 5 cats,
2 jobs,
4 kids,
And 3 baby daddies who ain't shit?
Does that make my message sound more true?
O my bad, I meant 'sound more real'
That's what we want right?
Well my real and your real aren't always going to be the same thing
Sometimes my real can be conviction
Spoken with proper diction
Served sans profanity
My real may be love notes locked inside of a hope chest
Long moonlit walks and lingering kisses that leave me breathless
My real could be a worry of living a life with a destiny unfulfilled
We may not be going through the same thing but it doesn't make it any less real
Yea I may use those four letter words but I have the ability not to
I can be angry and loud, roll my neck and be rude
But I shouldn't have to grab my tits
Or use metaphors to disguise my tales of turning tricks
Or bitch about how all men are dicks
Cause I'm a woman
I'm a poet
And I'm not with it.