#steamin gleamin

[hot-hot-wheels]

Steamin' Gleamin'

[fuckyeahqueerpoetry]

Paris Is Burning (A Poem by Reza Ghahremanzadeh)

Coming & going, strutting & voguing,

Easing the pain with drinking & smoking,

Paris is burning & lost souls are yearning,

Earth's just a bear that God's poking.

Sad baby, sad sitter, add glitter to bitter,

Nature looks on & dares you to quit her,

Cheap wine with no cork, a stifling New York,

Treated like lepers, like litter.

The gemstones were gleamin', the sauna was steamin',

The hustlers & pimps were all busy schemin',

In some cheap hotel—no heaven, all hell––

Poor Venus was beggin' and screamin'.

[foreignquarry]

Cracked quartz, 2013

Thought that by leavin’ the windas open maybe sum neighbour woulda heard ‘is cries, but I guesses, like, a crying child i’nt that strange in the middle of th’ night. U wouldn’ go check would u? Some stranger’s child? I wouldn’. U wouldn’. Well, they ’s already open, the windas. Like... Well, oo am I kiddin’? Sorry. Right. I’m just comin’ up with reasons after the fact. The way guilt erodes like stone. Couldn’ get up the stairs in time. Visually? It ’s like, from left to right: the back door, me, my ’usband, the stairs; and I wasn’ gonna go crossin’ the threshold. Musta looked like hell as well. Don’ need to detail the bruises, but like, ee’d beaten us before so I just ran when ee came in with that look, unhinged. Stormin’ in from the pub probs chattin’ abuse with those mates of ’is with th’ ratty eyes, red ‘n steamin’ ‘n stinkin’ o’ barley. So I grabbed the boy ‘n ran. The elder one, ee ’ad come down white from a nightmare ’n was sittin’ with me watchin’... y’know… well that’s funny I can’t remember but... Musta been colder than it felt outside, right. His name? I don’.... Strapped ’im in the booster seat ‘n the back and drove. Fog ’ad descended ’salways, so it ’s hard as all hell to see where we ’s goin’, like, drivin’ like on TV, faster than safe, boy in the back all cryin’ all the while. I ’s driving for the Visitors’ Centre cos the lights is always on ‘t night ’n he’s cryin’ and squirmin’ all while I’m trying to unstrap ’im saying “’salright Pebble, ’sall ok, Mummy’s just taking us to find some help,” ended up pulling the whole booster seat out ‘n strugglin’ with ‘im on the groun’. Probs left it behind there in the grass off the car park. ‘Ope no ponies got to it... still think about that. Find it ’ard to recall the rest in sequence: I ’ad ’im up on ma shoulders ‘s I ran past the centre tryna find, like, a security guard or... prayin’ not to run inta any doggers. Didn’ realise ee’d died from essposure already just figures ee’s asleep. Figures the weight of ’im on ma scalp was ’is sweet restin’ pressure, cuddled up to my ‘ead. Too panicked to notice ’is lack of breath. Cold like no hope, like when u notice somethin’s off or missin’: something’s absent. U would 2, with a feeling like that, realised I ’s crying cos of the way the cold moor wind clings to the tears n’ then I just slipped and fell. No drama or slow-mo like on TV: was real quick. Snapped my spine on a shard of granite that ’s piercin’ out the bottom o’ the quarry: sun dial. Next day when they ’s liftin’ my corpse out with this crane sorta cherrypicker, wrapped me all in tarp and winched me up, I could see a crowd ’ad formed. Old couples out in deckchairs, young families passin’ bags o’ popcorn you couldn’ make it up but it’s true. I got no cause to lie to u. Folks comin’ in all purposeful like, like drivin’ over special, Saturday morning entertainment reality drama, binoculars at the ready, seein’ if they could spot my limp ’n lifeless flesh pokin’ out the sheet, risin’ up out that pit, some sacrifice cleanup, the meat once me now blockin’ out the sun like the end o’ the world by feral asteroid as seen on the news. N’ yknow?, as they ’s unwrapping me ready to load me onto the ambulance, I got one last look back down the quarry where the boy still was, my poor Pebble, ’n the sun was gleamin’ off the still water ’n the granite at the bottom ’n my vision was fadin’ like the aftershock of an earthquake, ’n I swears I saw some shape go flickerin’ n’ translucent, white like a bride and as billowy too, floatin’ down, ’umansized, same arc I took but at much less speed like a parachute, ’n I saw it land down there safely but make no splash, delicate like take a moment and stand up, tilt its banshee head skyward, and scream.

---

being the contemporary story of the bunch, this piece is pretty much straight up modern english, with some adjustments to make words more phonetic and have the kind of Dartmoor accent i want to evoke. because this is a contemporary story, i’ve peppered it with things i consider to be important in contemporary language, ie, self-consciousness, pointless apologising, use of the word “like”, rhetorical questions, hyperactivity, and inability to focus on finishing sentences.

the reference to the ghost story i mentioned comes in at the end, as well as references to the people who watched the tragedy unfurl. there’s repeated references and comparisons to ‘TV dramas’, and also a reference to “doggers”, which i use to make this connection of voyeurism more apparent. i also hope it speaks to a social media mindset, of the life as performance, and the presentation of your life as something for others to consume.

in a very obvious and absurd way, the woman cannot remember her child’s name and nicknames him ‘Pebble’, to connect the whole thing back round to stones. i like this idea of a child being a smaller piece chipped off a larger block. this is not accurate in any way, and much of the story has been changed or embellished, but other details from the original story such as the car seat being found on the ground have been kept

[underground-hip-hop-affiliated]

Between the gods and the goddesses, devils and demons I'm weed steamin, gold 32 karat tech gleamin Cream feenin, like Casino, Trapicante Gambino.

La The Darkman

[aqlyrics-blog]

I’m On 3.0

New Post has been published on http://purelyrics.net/lyrics/trae-tha-truth-im-3-0/

I’m On 3.0

–Intro: Trae tha Truth– They say three times the charm, huh? I got ya

–Verse 1: Trae tha Truth– Yeah, all gas, fast, livin’ like somethin’ was speedin’ Ashy to classy, now I bless ’em like someone who sneezin’ I’m only here to give ’em pressure, bitch, picture me squeezin’ Against the world like I was Pac, wasn’t nobody believin’ Nothin’ deceivin’, know the truth, what the fuck you was needin’? Gather this evenin’ for the one, reputation was steamin’ Vision me gleamin’ from the mud, ain’t no point in you cleanin’ I’m motivation for the ones who nobody was feedin’ Automatic still give ‘e the same kick Started the sideline, now I’m starrin’ in game 6 Spit and make ’em replay it like they’re stuck on the same disk Work, I give ’em new, never stretchin’ the same brick Never the same chick, yeah I’m still on that same shit Cop me a new spot, tryna see where the plane fits Picture me with a crown, next to that where my name sits Galaxy in the ceilin’ just to show ’em what fame gets

–Verse 2: T.I.– In the heart of the jungle walkin’ through the fire You beat the charge if you show up with an alibi Runnin’ wild in the city, no direction All we know is get that dough, run up the checks and I’m self-made, wasn’t made for the military Get paid, dodge jail and the cemetery You better reach for the stars, take your best shot You let them haters kill your dream, your ass be assed out, forreal

–Verse 3: Dave East– Fill a Backwood with three nicks V6, cut the coke, remix Squeeze clips if ever we hear that he snitched I’m allergic to broke niggas in the precinct Found out my man was hatin’ and we ain’t speak since Barney’s, Nord’s can’t add up the paper we spent Tryna get drunk, I’m tokin’, I got a P bent I touched a million, ain’t sleep since, on defense

–Verse 4: Tee Grizzley– Freedom got me feelin’ like I flown up Out of prison, I ain’t think that I was blowin’ up Bunch of young rich niggas home, Rollies up Run up on us, watch how quick I’ll lift the toaster up Money got me feelin’ like you can’t control us Servin’, watchin’ out for the patrollers We used to play the game, play on your controllers Seen niggas get killed, heart froze up Picked up them choppas, got to go and duck Shootin’ everything up, it ain’t no ho in us Shit ain’t even last, free bro and them In Chicago I’m home, that’s on 4 and them Now I’m thinkin’ right ’cause I see I can make it Started, fam strugglin’, I couldn’t take it You got it out the mud, I got it out the pavement I used to miss payments, got the title, dare you try to take it

–Verse 5: Royce da 5’9″– Triple OG Never without vision or livin’ goal-free Never writ it though I’ve been out gettin’ this since ’03 Every little red cent and every dividend Has been counted and acquired Been legit, legal and been with the code I’m colder than December in the winter cold Look, I’ve been out givin’ canned goods and clothes To the children on 34th, real nigga, ugh

–Verse 6: Curren$y– I could put you on like socks Put you on like my watch Put you on the block, you can get that off Put you on the right lot, you can get that car Put you on like a fitted Put you on in my city Got the stars in the ceilin’, that’s the Wraith Got the top in the trunk, that’s a don I could give it to a nigga either way ’cause I’m on, L

–Chorus: D.R.A.M., Gary Clark, Jr., & Mark Morrison– I’m on, I’m on I’m on, I’m on I’m on, I’m on I’m on, yeah

–Verse 7: Snoop Dogg– Wakin’ up, feelin’ good, rollin’ through the neighborhood Do or die, every day, I lead ’em in a different way I don’t take no mess, get it off of my chest I’ma be dressed to impress, no stress, fresh Off the east side, Trae called me up and said “Unc I’ma need you on the b-side” So I came through, ah, mic checked, one-two, uh Gettin’ real funky, kinda smell like manure Eight cars, eight stars Return of the mack with these hot eight bars Flip through it, dip through it This is the shit that’ll make you get to it Break down, give it up, pour it up Now drink it up, roll it up Light it up, how you feel, y’all? See you in high definition with a mothafuckin’ real Dogg

–Verse 8: Fabolous– And every day I’m on And if I wasn’t, then why would I say I’m on? Get an Em and get low, that’s the Dre I’m on Get a B in blue, that’s the Jay I’m on They on sidelines watchin’ what play I’m on I call a audible, that’s what a baller do They keep askin’ me, is there more to do? Well ain’t water wet? Well then it’s more to get To my shorty’s set, and his shorty’s set This game ain’t over, it’s more quarters left I gotta rep my city, do it for the set I gotta talk my shit until I’m short of breath ‘Cause the world is full of niggas tryna off your on switch Tryna find a place that your coffin gon’ fit Me and my niggas on some confidente shit And we ain’t really feelin’ that off and on shit, I’m on

–Verse 9: Rick Ross– Maybach Music Chasin’ paper, starin’ out the casket Was a stunna ’til they froze all the assets Killers at your neck ’til you cut a check You talkin’ ’bout the money, nigga, where it’s at? Cars for my dogs, do it for the cause Right back here tomorrow, nigga, inshallah Prayin’ on my knees, do it for the keep Do it for the team, or I’ma let it be

–Verse 10: Chamillionaire– Chamilitary mane They thought I was done, but really I ain’t even stress it Just look at all the dough I got invested Two years and two billion dollar exits And now your relevance ain’t lookin’ that impressive (it ain’t) So glad we ain’t gotta chase relevance And I would like to thank the dead presidents For not livin’ forever-ever, forever-ever For all of them that passed, I’ve been gettin’ paid ever since Be okay, still paid, still stackin’ it We gon’ stay, courtside, that’s accurate We gon’ take the White House and get back in it They tried to turn us in to the villains like Colin Kaepernick But it’s okay, Gotham City needs savin’ You’ll fight back but I’ma shock ’em like Raiden I don’t fold, I don’t quit and don’t cave in Your worst nightmare, Freddy Krueger, Wes Craven

–Chorus: D.R.A.M., Gary Clark, Jr., & Mark Morrison– I’m on, I’m on I’m on, I’m on I’m on, I’m on I’m on, yeah

–Verse 11: G-Eazy– And I don’t think he really needs any coachin’ The weather’s gettin’ hot, Eazy Season approachin’ Came up and everybody sees the devotion I put the work in, I cause a commotion Whenever I’m in public, modern-day Elvis Hoes at my shows wanted selfies Made it here and ain’t nobody helped us Now I’m on a path to be great So they say, that’s what everybody tells us

–Verse 12: Styles P– Raised knee-deep in the dope game If I had two guns up then they was both aimed Saturday mornin’, I’m watchin’ Soul Train Eatin’ leftover food, lo-mein Now I’m plant-based, couple juice bars I’m on now, I don’t care if the stamp straight Told Trae I’m the truth like his name is Can show you what pain is, I’ll tell you what game is, ghost

–Chorus: D.R.A.M., Gary Clark, Jr., & Mark Morrison– I’m on, I’m on I’m on, I’m on I’m on, I’m on I’m on, I’m on I’m on, I’m on I’m on, I’m on

–Verse 13: E-40– Ayy Trae, let the councilor speak E-40! The best that ever did it and got away with it Let the councilor speak Not a septic tank, but I’m with the shit On my coast, I’m the topic and the subject Where I’m from it’s hella squeeze and heathens’ guns bust I wish that TD Jakes would come and pray for us They pimpin’, they flockin’, they like to steal and rob Backdoor their loved ones, inside job That’s why I stay with a stapler, a baby tomahawk Life or death situations in case I gotta pop I made a promise to the lord that I’ma keep it funky Never switched, never sell my soul for money I always been for right, maybe that’s what’s wrong Now I’m on like the most requested song Since a teen, I was doin’ my thing, magazine On the 1300 block, we had a machine I had a quarter mil’ at the age of 19 In the kitchin’ cookin’ birdies with no wings The best rappers come from the gravel, the slums Empty rack with spaghetti sauce jars rockin’ up crumbs It ain’t easy bein’ on for 30 years to see the glitter and glamour But not the blood, sweat and tears I’m an old ass youngsta, bruh, I’m a vet Sick Wid It Records, sellin’ cassettes before the internet I never made a mixtape in my life But one day I’ma do it for my fans, the people that saved my life I’m on

–Chorus: D.R.A.M., Gary Clark, Jr., & Mark Morrison– I’m on, I’m on I’m on, I’m on I’m on, I’m on I’m on, yeah