i was born with two tongues.
one more for today. this ain’t really nothin but jes a part of http://www.2tongues.com that has some good poetry. 2tongues is really interesting… check them out sometime if yoo have the tym. oh, along with the pacifics (http://www.propagandamovement.com) cuz the pacifics are the bomb too.
http://www.2tongues.com/yellowfist/ <~ the good poetry. and rap lyrics. yeah. check it out. it’s protesting the lyrics to the bloodhound gang songs. some get pretty vulgar.
i really like two of them. imma post them here. hopefully i ain’t violating no copyright laws. if so… oops. i was jes promotin the shit.
Untitled
by Quincy Tran
In this land, they wield words like weapons
Lobbing grenades behind my back
Pin in my mouth, words in my fist, I toss it back,
My words explode in your lap,
Smack
Boom
Crack-
Somewhere somehow something got lost along the way
In this land where
Da shit only sells when da shit is white
Like da shit we call Vanilla Ice
Somewhere somehow something got lost along the way
In this land where
Boys who don’t know and have nothing to say
Teen angst record selling glitz
Suffer this media culture of shit
I
M
No Oriental massage therapy
Not Oliver Stone’s bad memories
No Rambo target practice enemy
But an enemy of this white boy potion
Turning my sisters into lifeless notions
Of what you think
We are:
“Chinks”?
U
R
Mindless limp dick pornography,
“Art” as economic tv pop
kiddie rap, teeny bop, bigotry,
Formulated chord change mediocrity,
Poseur rap rocker wannabe.
We
Slit your lyrics in the middle night
Rip out your vocal chords while you sleep
This is our people’s plight
Your
Music is shit just like your
Sense of wit.
Just like your
Suburban sickness.
Boring, spineless
Columbine-less
Perverted white angst.
For once in your life do something beautiful with that guitar string
Hang yourself with it.
Brain dead, fuckhead
Sub-par
Dipshit.
When U Got the Fever for the Flava of a Geisha
by Nadia Young-na Kim
When u got the fever for the flava of a geisha
In Asia or america,
Well, one lies atop the other.
Mine and my colonizers’ eyes meet, through black and blue/slit and circle
asymmetry.
Supposedly the globes in his eyes that don’t fit in mine let him envision my
vision FOR me
Now I know best, he sneers. Now - I know the truth, I say.
For no pictoral vision can be detected on see-through, icy blue film.
Yet I see thru you and your gang;
‘Cuz haven’t you heard that only those in darkness can see the light?
Only my sparkling, squinty black seas can see; my bloodhound sense can smell,the
buried stench of him,
quelling my movements of resistance and those of my descendents,
exploring/uprooting my mystical mountains and valleys which he calls Orient.
To orient me to what?:
His dah dah dah dah! Imperial! brand of masculinity
But into his blue globes that blind him but spin me, I spit,
“No, my name is not Suzy, not Ms. Wong, but Ms. Kim if you’re worthy, Ms. Geem
if you can pronounce it, and Ms. Goddess if you’re nasty!”
You want to be wrapped in my Oriental rug so you can feel like the owner of
concubines? Dream on, for empty souls don’t get wrapped, only filled.
So you fill yourself with your desperate need for me to be yellow, to be chic/k,
to be geisha, to be Suzy? well, SORRY!!
My satisfaction’s NOT guaranteed so I’m here to cash in on this injustice—-
check, honey, and *I’LL* take care of my dignity.
Huh, too bad you can’t take care of your own.
So, you say you want me to bang you? Then let me bang this over both of your
heads:
Quit trying to own my S(e)oul,
just cuz yours’s at the lost-n-found,
but nobody came along to claim it.
n a d i a young-na k i m
those are only two out of ten, so go to the site, aight? later.