For Real, For RealA Poem by Mr. Deft DictionReally....for real
Whoever said they don't need validation....
well, they're trippin'; whether we talkin' about parking passes, verbal clashes or gaining a rep in some upstate prison. Running from validation as if you're somehow bigger than that validation is what's made celebrity out of the least inconceivable cats. From shock-jockers to the backpackers.... skateboarders and ball players who wanna be rappers. Even one of Heff's chikadee's got the itch to be an emcee I try to say I don't want to be compared; but I smile all Kool-Aid like, when folks compare me to a Common or a Nas, or a Talib Kweli. I need that validation stamped on my forehead, B; at anytime it could be all gone and how are the masses supposed to remember me? They wouldn't believe Pablo Neruda if it wasn't for some dame who read his sonnets and touched herself in memory.... They wouldn't believe in the misfortune of the more than fortunate had they never known about the life of the Kennedy's. This is my bread and butter, so basically what that means.... you damn right...., I need somebody to validate me. Don't jock me; don't say that my swag is cocky; I'm an underdog who gets no sequel, so I won't play into the dramatics like Rocky. I need validation like a weight-lifter needs a spot, see? My walk is mean and I have a thiefs moxy. Probably get lost in the sauce, how many other scribes describe life in the way that it's got me? Validation means that it'll be in a gold pot when I piss....please all you nay-sayers throwin' up middle fingers at validation, quit playin'.... it's like saying you love your family, but you don't see any relation. Validation is a liberal getting fair play on the most conservative radio station.... I'm beginning to wonder how all those without validation made it.... Don't blame the truth on me, I just say it simply.... damn right, I need somebody to validate me. Kanye got like seven Grammy's, it's still validation he seeks. I'll validate his passion, I can hear it when he speaks... so validate me. Validate the breeze, the composition of the trees and the leaves.... validate how we tell our children about sex thru the birds and the bees. My mama knew me; she ain't feed me that story. Validate how rappers hate to be seen as pop; but still end up in that exact same category. Give me validation on substance and style; validation that I'll be okay, even if I haven't prayed in awhile.... smile... So all of you mad-at-the-world, they did me wrong with minds like pions, please validation of the artistry of you means it only a matter of time.... someday they'll validate me. Peace © 2008 Mr. Deft DictionFeatured Review
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12 Reviews Added on September 18, 2008 Last Updated on September 18, 2008 AuthorMr. Deft DictionMorrisville, NCAbout“HI, BABY! HOW ARE YOU?” KAYLEE RAN FULL SPEED INTO A CROUCHED AUNT TABITHA, KICKING A LITTLE WIND OUT OF HER AMPLE FRAME. AUNT TABITHA IS MATTHEW’S STEP-SISTER, AFTER THEIR PARENTS.. more..Writing
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