Void of hip hop

Void of hip hop

 

There’s this hole in my soul where hip hop use to lie.

Beats pounding to the rhythm of my heart,

Nostalgia floating like chords, a familiar tune.

Your white starter ball cap sitting on your head

Concealing sweat that sat on your brow.

Your head bobbing all night to a beat you mixed

On the recording equipment…

Your hands pushing

Buttons, which would later be caressing my body.

Writing songs turning into flirtations,

Hip hop enveloping me into a culture

Instead of just surviving off of talent,

I was swallowed into a new way of life.

As much as I know it was bad for me,

I hunger after it.

I ache for it at times.

Here I am accomplishing goals.

There I was lifeless, goal less.

Here I am, independent.

There I was, dependent.

Here I am, breathing hope.

There I was, choking on my own obsession.

 

But I have a hole in my soul where hip hop use to lie.

My honey-coated voice a backdrop to their rhymes of

Street life, spitting verses of the harsh reality that

They were enveloped in.

But I sang, like an angel behind such darkness,

Wanting to break free, but all anyone wanted

To do was cloak me in their blackness

Until I was consumed, so my light wasn’t

So bright, and I didn’t shine.

A paradox…I still long for that life, at times.

Something else takes me away when I think

Of hip hop

Brings me back to a place of reality after

Living in such a bubble,

The same reality over and over.

A predictable life,

Which is rewarding and healthy,

But not like the hip hop days

which could rip you in two, but

Leave you wanting more pain.

Soft brown lips caressing mine,

The sounds of our union coming together,

Expressed in verses we spit in the studio,

Explored in many ways.

The love is gone.

But my love for hip hop is still there.

I admire my music, and I will never stop

Listening to my favorite genre,

The music that is a nexus to my past.

That somehow causes my heartbeat to thrive,

For that hole in my soul to be closed,

Periodically,

From hip hop deprivation.

 

I have a voice.

But what is it for?

My collaboration,

That hip hop culture,

Those brutes I got myself caught up in

Are history.

It’s the past.

So why do I even reminisce of them?

I got a better life right now.

It’s lonely, and predictable,

And not satisfying in some ways,

But in other ways I know that what I

Am doing is right.

Yet I still feel empty,

So why is that?

And how do I fill that hole?

The one in my soul where hip hop use to lie?

 

By Kena SunGoddess Dawn 2010

Author's Note

Again, more of a prose poem than poetry. It's just crazy how I can reminesce about that out of control hip hop life I use to be involved in, when I have a life that is so stable and in its proper place. But not as exciting. So I had to write about that. So I fill it up by listening to hip hop music I love! haha.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

Do i write about the theme, understanding you from the past, or do I comment about the way you've written? Dilemma, Kena!

Okay, the theme rolls around like a ball slowly moving down a hill, veering off course at tufts of this or that .. but moving backwards suggests that part regret, the past you can't forget. As always your put your words into sharp places here and there but, dear long-known friend, you know exactly where to stop cutting.

[Kimmee Jean]

:) i really like this one but i'm nto that into hip hop lol.
But i like it alot.
The way you wrote it makes me think of beats in my head.

[Sean M. Addams]

very deep and well expressed .. I thought you did a great job on this Goddess lots of emotion put into this ... I like how it ends in a question..nice work!!