Verse1
I aint one of those rappers that sits and chills
good life and cars talkin’ ‘bout dollar bills
I aint a rappa’ that fills the head with shrills
I rap bout the ghetto outside the windowsill
The names Young Shepard, im back in my domain
on stage with the light hittin’ me wit the speed of a plane
ya see I don’t want a grammy and don’t want a tony
engrave this in ya head or just forget you know me
Im tryin’ ta chose a path so dat I can see light
all my life it’s just whites who wanna fight
well they don’t know what is like to live in a big city
get shot up on each and every block like 50
what ive gone through an seen in my life
nothin’ is eva’ perfect or precise
this story is deeper than rap, deeper than the game
now I’m on antidepressants to keep my brain sane
by far I neva got what I wanted
when I see somebody happy its like I’ve been haunted
I hate how people assume dat my rhymes are fake
a bullet none the less a fight I cant take
In Red Bank got challenged to a knife fight I came
we all live the same, Compton, New York, or Maine
like many I watched my mom drink cryin’ watchin’ the rain
my dad was neva’ around now dat he is its an
embarrassment to have his last name
Im just a lonely kid who spends his life rappin'
writin’ bout da mistakes that have happened
if you be so kind, In due time
Young Shepard steels the light in this moment of time
Verse2
The streets still take a tole on me after all these years
I see the fear, blood sweat and tears from my other peers
you say were now in a recession
but only the black dude get caught wit a gun in possession
you say now people don't got money there poor
14 long years of seein’ my motha’ drunk on the floor
cause bills weren’t paid, and she lost her job
dad was gone out workin’, but he couldn’t bring home nothin’
so I step up on my own slap the tears from my face
three months later I’m arrested with tears replaced with mase
that was just a mistake but I couldn’t live it down
I walk with embarrassment shame like a sad clown
couldn’t trust or ask nobody for nothin’
I will find my own way, doesn't that count for somethin’?
but gheah, I just waitin' for what the future holds
Im not stopping just cause cant afford heat so were in the cold
street life is bad death can unfold
only thing an educated man or women would know
Gang life is ruff don’t get in, you don’t wanna sell
can’t cha tell don’t rob no clientele
but gheah, I just try to make it another day
try to focus on what I love to do
and if that means writin’
how bout you
Its good though keeps me outta trouble and situations
Im an OG and this is ghetto information
If you be so kind, to find
Young Shepard steels the light in this moment of time
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Short Story - In progress
My name will soon be forgotten, and this life will pass. But while I am here I have impact. While I am here, there are people that matter. There is hope in this world, and we are in a point in our lives when many of us believe that anything is possible. At least I hope the majority of us haven't had this hope smashed yet. There is a way that life can bludgeon the hope out of someone. But who are we without hope? Do we become a cynical migrating mass, with the dark de-sensitivity of the urbanized world. Does the individual stop mattering? Do the faces in the crowd blend in with the background? Do the names in the obituary bring somber consideration? Is there a point when even the friend stops mattering? Everything sacrificed for the benefit of self? In this dreary, oppressive world, I migrate, hoping that I will move through life without this cynicism and despair. I hope that my happiness will pervade through the ranks of mobile zombies, that are frozen to the core. This marks a point in my life, where I hope the bystanders will turn to me and see the light that illuminates my life, as people turn toward someone that is the only person dancing in a room. My name may not matter, but a life certainly has impact. I believe that one person can save a life, and this is why...
It was raining and there was no one else on the road, and the only thought passing through my mind, was my Driver's Ed teacher talking about hydroplaning. My knuckles on the steering wheel were turning white, and I could feel the disconnection between my vision and sensation that comes with lightheadedness. The spotty vision and the inability to focus on the road in front of me were also warning signs. Sometimes I forget to breathe. In times of great stress it is as if all thought it directed to the fear, even instinct for survival. When I catch the corners of my vision going black I catch myself remembering when I was younger, I can't say young yet, to when I would hold my breath when the car would pass cemeteries.
With the thinking of other memories, I have lost track of the road, like those few seconds of normal driving where you catch yourself wondering what you were just paying attention to, and where did the last couple of seconds of road go? What did they look like? This time however, the fear had warrant. This time, I was missing a corner. This time, I was driving of the edge of the road.
I went with the gut instinct of turning quickly to correct. Every lecture my dad ever gave me about driving in hazardous conditions was gone. Every rational thought was gone. There only remained the desperate need to get back on the paved road. But as I wrenched the wheel of the jeep I was driving , it was like I could visualize the tires loosing their grip on the pavement. The weight of the car swayed, and it's like it began to tip. That's when I consciously noticed I had stopped breathing. The trees began to tip, and my mind took a moment to marvel at the new angle, like a child hanging upside down from the monkey bars. I'd never thought that a car could roll, like really roll. Not just roll over like you think of bad accidents. But this, this felt like it should be a movie stunt crash, with a roll cage, and neck braces. The only thing was, this wasn't a movie. This was real. And because this was real I closed my eyes, like a child, my only defense against the pain I know was about to come. I didn't want to hear the crack of wood or the screech of metal...
I remember (waking up)? and feeling cold and wet. Colder than I thought the rain was. I didn't want to try to move because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to. Right then, I couldn't feel much of anything and I was afraid that if I moved I would permanently damage something. I was afraid that the pain would be greater than anything I'd ever felt before. I'd once seen a friend break her collar bone and scream an agonizing scream, one that was haunting me at this moment. I was afraid I had done much worse. When I was lying there in the rain in a contorted position, I don't even think it occurred to me how I was going to get out of there. I suppose that I was hoping that someone would come and find me. Danger wasn't a factor in my mind. The hard part, it seemed to me, had already passed.
I didn't begin to panic until I realized I was slowly loosing my vision. How much blood had I lost? Did I have a concussion? What did it feel like to get concussion? Should I try to move? There were sickening fingers of cold climbing up my stomach, and my mouth had gone dry, and it felt as if my head was detached from my body. There seemed to be a hallowing out in my stomach and a numbing in my chest. No one was coming for me. No one was on the roads. No one knew yet. No one could save me. No one was going to be my miracle.
If I hadn't finally found the strength from somewhere that I wasn't aware existed, I don't know if any one would have seen me. The car had gone off the road, and was hidden by the trees. I got partway out of the trees and I was covered in mud. I didn't think I could drag myself any further. I was almost positive that I had broken my leg. I didn't stop long enough to think that there might be danger in the fact that I couldn't feel my leg anymore. I couldn't move it.
At first I thought I had lost so much blood that I was seeing a mirage, that I was like the lost boys from Lord of the Flies who were going crazy, seeing waving images above the sand. But I kept blinking, and shaking my head, and looking back and away. But he was still there. I started to pull myself toward him, dragging my leg behind me, and pushing myself up every time my arms collapsed under the weight of my body. All I could see was him, the branches in my way didn't matter, the mud, the cold the rain. All I could think about was getting to him, because he was my only chance. I didn't wonder why he would be out in weather like this. All I cared about was that he could help me, he was the only one here. I made it so that I was lying half in the road, and then I couldn't go anymore. All I could do was hope that he would see me. I felt the air leaving my lungs, and I couldn't seem to fill them again.
I heard something, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was, it was like I was trapped under water, and there was no way to swim to the surface. I thought I felt something, but I couldn't be sure, it felt as if the rain had stopped, but I couldn't be sure. Maybe my entire body had gone numb now. I heard the noise again, and then there was nothing.
The next thing I remember is that I was staring at a ceiling, with lights flashing by. I must have been on a stretcher, and been in the hospital. It downed on me that this was an image so cliché it should have ripped from a screen. I wondered if my heart had stopped, but didn't want to consider the possibility. All I knew about hospitals was what I had seen or read. I'd never so much as broken my leg. And what was the metallic smell, that was making me think of industrial cleaner, that never smells clean, despite the title of cleaning agent.
It was raining and there was no one else on the road, and the only thought passing through my mind, was my Driver's Ed teacher talking about hydroplaning. My knuckles on the steering wheel were turning white, and I could feel the disconnection between my vision and sensation that comes with lightheadedness. The spotty vision and the inability to focus on the road in front of me were also warning signs. Sometimes I forget to breathe. In times of great stress it is as if all thought it directed to the fear, even instinct for survival. When I catch the corners of my vision going black I catch myself remembering when I was younger, I can't say young yet, to when I would hold my breath when the car would pass cemeteries.
With the thinking of other memories, I have lost track of the road, like those few seconds of normal driving where you catch yourself wondering what you were just paying attention to, and where did the last couple of seconds of road go? What did they look like? This time however, the fear had warrant. This time, I was missing a corner. This time, I was driving of the edge of the road.
I went with the gut instinct of turning quickly to correct. Every lecture my dad ever gave me about driving in hazardous conditions was gone. Every rational thought was gone. There only remained the desperate need to get back on the paved road. But as I wrenched the wheel of the jeep I was driving , it was like I could visualize the tires loosing their grip on the pavement. The weight of the car swayed, and it's like it began to tip. That's when I consciously noticed I had stopped breathing. The trees began to tip, and my mind took a moment to marvel at the new angle, like a child hanging upside down from the monkey bars. I'd never thought that a car could roll, like really roll. Not just roll over like you think of bad accidents. But this, this felt like it should be a movie stunt crash, with a roll cage, and neck braces. The only thing was, this wasn't a movie. This was real. And because this was real I closed my eyes, like a child, my only defense against the pain I know was about to come. I didn't want to hear the crack of wood or the screech of metal...
I remember (waking up)? and feeling cold and wet. Colder than I thought the rain was. I didn't want to try to move because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to. Right then, I couldn't feel much of anything and I was afraid that if I moved I would permanently damage something. I was afraid that the pain would be greater than anything I'd ever felt before. I'd once seen a friend break her collar bone and scream an agonizing scream, one that was haunting me at this moment. I was afraid I had done much worse. When I was lying there in the rain in a contorted position, I don't even think it occurred to me how I was going to get out of there. I suppose that I was hoping that someone would come and find me. Danger wasn't a factor in my mind. The hard part, it seemed to me, had already passed.
I didn't begin to panic until I realized I was slowly loosing my vision. How much blood had I lost? Did I have a concussion? What did it feel like to get concussion? Should I try to move? There were sickening fingers of cold climbing up my stomach, and my mouth had gone dry, and it felt as if my head was detached from my body. There seemed to be a hallowing out in my stomach and a numbing in my chest. No one was coming for me. No one was on the roads. No one knew yet. No one could save me. No one was going to be my miracle.
If I hadn't finally found the strength from somewhere that I wasn't aware existed, I don't know if any one would have seen me. The car had gone off the road, and was hidden by the trees. I got partway out of the trees and I was covered in mud. I didn't think I could drag myself any further. I was almost positive that I had broken my leg. I didn't stop long enough to think that there might be danger in the fact that I couldn't feel my leg anymore. I couldn't move it.
At first I thought I had lost so much blood that I was seeing a mirage, that I was like the lost boys from Lord of the Flies who were going crazy, seeing waving images above the sand. But I kept blinking, and shaking my head, and looking back and away. But he was still there. I started to pull myself toward him, dragging my leg behind me, and pushing myself up every time my arms collapsed under the weight of my body. All I could see was him, the branches in my way didn't matter, the mud, the cold the rain. All I could think about was getting to him, because he was my only chance. I didn't wonder why he would be out in weather like this. All I cared about was that he could help me, he was the only one here. I made it so that I was lying half in the road, and then I couldn't go anymore. All I could do was hope that he would see me. I felt the air leaving my lungs, and I couldn't seem to fill them again.
I heard something, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was, it was like I was trapped under water, and there was no way to swim to the surface. I thought I felt something, but I couldn't be sure, it felt as if the rain had stopped, but I couldn't be sure. Maybe my entire body had gone numb now. I heard the noise again, and then there was nothing.
The next thing I remember is that I was staring at a ceiling, with lights flashing by. I must have been on a stretcher, and been in the hospital. It downed on me that this was an image so cliché it should have ripped from a screen. I wondered if my heart had stopped, but didn't want to consider the possibility. All I knew about hospitals was what I had seen or read. I'd never so much as broken my leg. And what was the metallic smell, that was making me think of industrial cleaner, that never smells clean, despite the title of cleaning agent.
Dream is so close to me
Airi stood by the phone booth as the simple spring rain lightly feel. The pavement rippled with every drop and she could see herself through the reflected trees. The rain dripped off her umbrella, once a shade of dark grey the rain had melted it into a black, the white underside was staring to change as well. She may have felt the almost cold that surrounded her if it weren't for Michio.
Perhaps hoping was out of the question now, but even as he walked away from her, she wondered perhaps it wasn't to late to wonder. The pavement had not yet absorbed the rain and it fell onto the mirror like surface more like a mist now, than it had when she had been trapped in the phone booth. Forced to wait it out she hadn’t stood there for long before he appeared over the road’s horizon.
Ever unfazed by the rain as always, she though he would just continue down the road. She thought he would just go on with his usual swagger, bag hung on one side casually gripping the umbrella in a way that honestly didn't do him much good. She couldn't help but press her face to the glass, but she looked away as he approached. At first she though he would pass her so she turned away. Then behind her she heard the click on the door. A red sleeved arm reached beside her and forced a second umbrella into her hands and then the door shut again. Unsure of what to think she just stood there a minute, then she made up her mind.
He supposed it was worth it after all. As he heard the sound of the door opening behind him. Still he kept up with his pace. The umbrella opened, the reflection before him. She smiled a bit. Perhaps she was right to wonder. The rain faded to mist as she stood, and the trees shifted beside her. A spray of mist engulfed her with the changing wind, but she took no notice. A warmth around her was all he felt as she heard the rain drip from the trees, to her umbrella, then to the ground. Rippling around her shoes, it dissipated into the mirrored pavement. Barely audible he walked away, and she left him to his own thoughts. Yes, she was right to wonder and perhaps hoping wasn't out of the question either.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Brought up
Brought Up
I wasn’t brought up, to express my feelings
I wasn’t brought up, to cry when my cuts are bleeding
I wasn’t brought up, around gun fire
I wasn’t brought up, to look like a thug wit my attire
Who I am, is a poor black kid without much
who I am, is a poor black kid to be damed
because my plans keep failing
and i don’t know why
and when I ly
I just clinch my teeth and I try
I wasn’t brought up, to have the cops beat me for no reason
I wasn’t brought up, to cry when my cuts they be healin’
I wasn’t brought up, to have my education deduct
I wasn’t brought up, to believe in luck
I was raised, to believe in myself
I was raised, to be myself
so why do I feel like I’m so ghetto
so why do I think a different way
why do I not think before I say
this all makes me who I am today
I am a kid who falls in love to fast
fall through the cracks
takes in what he thinks
and doesn't realize the facts
Through this life Im on the highway to hell
this is just myself
I wasn’t brought up
to say on the streets and fail
I wasn’t brought up, to express my feelings
I wasn’t brought up, to cry when my cuts are bleeding
I wasn’t brought up, around gun fire
I wasn’t brought up, to look like a thug wit my attire
Who I am, is a poor black kid without much
who I am, is a poor black kid to be damed
because my plans keep failing
and i don’t know why
and when I ly
I just clinch my teeth and I try
I wasn’t brought up, to have the cops beat me for no reason
I wasn’t brought up, to cry when my cuts they be healin’
I wasn’t brought up, to have my education deduct
I wasn’t brought up, to believe in luck
I was raised, to believe in myself
I was raised, to be myself
so why do I feel like I’m so ghetto
so why do I think a different way
why do I not think before I say
this all makes me who I am today
I am a kid who falls in love to fast
fall through the cracks
takes in what he thinks
and doesn't realize the facts
Through this life Im on the highway to hell
this is just myself
I wasn’t brought up
to say on the streets and fail
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Papaz song
Yo back in the day, lived a little kid stray
my mama would raise me, my pops would discipline me
I made so many mistakes in the past
I say its the last
Im disapointin’ to him like the the rest
their all locked away cause of sass
I resemble Uncle Ray well thats wat he would say
I say and do what I want to see if I can get away
why is it me God, why do I portray
Im left sayin’ a pare God has nothin’ ta say
I know he’s done his best to provide
when I see him its like tv and its live
he was neva around
at least I didn’t feel like he was?
he would be alone writin’ music
hopin’ he could send me out in the wild to be majestic
but arrested in what he wished I would neva’ become
Im tryin’ ta be what he wants but now im so wrong
Messed in the head and all these threats
im screwin’ up his life gettin sued and puttin’ him in debt
Deep down I thought I had his respect
no matter what he said I tried to understand his aspect
When he said he hated me it hurt so bad
I just tried to forgive and forget but again its my dad
I felt so said but I walked away like it never happened
my sister was hopin’ the police would just catch him
He tried to make his life so perfect
fool you’ve done nothin’ ta change
when you think you have it didn’t work
I! was the one left to hurt
you live your life with one little smirk
jerk I hope you rot in the dirt of the earth
All this pain inside, do you despise
you say you cry, you don’t feel no emotion
doesn’t occur to you about my feelings
It’s dwelling and
You always did your best to protect
thanks you for that
I tried to hold my rage in as best I can
but damn man now I cant hold it in
remember when mom started drinkin’ afta’ the divorce
car crashes, police came and used lethal force
I came to live with you dad that was my choice
you were better to live with than that situation
you kept threatenin to send me back
you thought I didn’t like it, I showed disrespect
well I accepted the lectures that I shall get
only thing I regret is thinkin’ you could teach me
how to be a man
all you taught me
is how to hate the world
I don’t share my feelings cause I could
when I want to I hear you callin’ me a word in the background
I’ve found to keep my thoughts to myself
no matter what my opinion was it was neva’ felt
so I had to delt with my problems on my own
it’s draggin’ me through a grave yard and signin’ off my tombstone
even when I can I wont
cause its a big don’t in my world
but after all those year
I felt like blood and sweat were never shed
So I made a big mistake and you got so mad
you said illegal things and promised a jab
you couldn’t hold back your rage
you need to be locked away
what the hell you call yourself a dad
you promised to send me back to mom and not look back
i hope you burn in hell
I wish somehow I could torture you myself
I couldn’t stand puttin’ down my own father for nothin’
this is somethin’
so big it could change if I love em
or bother with em
I don’t wanna be like you
so stop saying back in the day
“I easily tricked my mom
went places and got away”
If I was like you I’d be a fat lazy punk
who thinks he can take on anyone
You don’t even get the mental game of it
you only know the physical but legit
you don’t know what it’s like to wanna commit suicide
when it’s just not enough to sit and cry
so why do you think that you know me
how do you win all of these arguments
I would step into hell bow to the devil
decent to the abyss, death at high risk
you wouldn’t even change for your son
worship for your daughter
you loved Janice more than us
so tell me f’ up is that smarter
this is the part where I say
after all of those years you were there
but afta what you you put me through
who the hell cares
and if I see you after I leave
I would want you to stay away from me
I know you did your best, but accept
that your only son in world ain’t commin’ back
and I ain’t sorry
my mama would raise me, my pops would discipline me
I made so many mistakes in the past
I say its the last
Im disapointin’ to him like the the rest
their all locked away cause of sass
I resemble Uncle Ray well thats wat he would say
I say and do what I want to see if I can get away
why is it me God, why do I portray
Im left sayin’ a pare God has nothin’ ta say
I know he’s done his best to provide
when I see him its like tv and its live
he was neva around
at least I didn’t feel like he was?
he would be alone writin’ music
hopin’ he could send me out in the wild to be majestic
but arrested in what he wished I would neva’ become
Im tryin’ ta be what he wants but now im so wrong
Messed in the head and all these threats
im screwin’ up his life gettin sued and puttin’ him in debt
Deep down I thought I had his respect
no matter what he said I tried to understand his aspect
When he said he hated me it hurt so bad
I just tried to forgive and forget but again its my dad
I felt so said but I walked away like it never happened
my sister was hopin’ the police would just catch him
He tried to make his life so perfect
fool you’ve done nothin’ ta change
when you think you have it didn’t work
I! was the one left to hurt
you live your life with one little smirk
jerk I hope you rot in the dirt of the earth
All this pain inside, do you despise
you say you cry, you don’t feel no emotion
doesn’t occur to you about my feelings
It’s dwelling and
You always did your best to protect
thanks you for that
I tried to hold my rage in as best I can
but damn man now I cant hold it in
remember when mom started drinkin’ afta’ the divorce
car crashes, police came and used lethal force
I came to live with you dad that was my choice
you were better to live with than that situation
you kept threatenin to send me back
you thought I didn’t like it, I showed disrespect
well I accepted the lectures that I shall get
only thing I regret is thinkin’ you could teach me
how to be a man
all you taught me
is how to hate the world
I don’t share my feelings cause I could
when I want to I hear you callin’ me a word in the background
I’ve found to keep my thoughts to myself
no matter what my opinion was it was neva’ felt
so I had to delt with my problems on my own
it’s draggin’ me through a grave yard and signin’ off my tombstone
even when I can I wont
cause its a big don’t in my world
but after all those year
I felt like blood and sweat were never shed
So I made a big mistake and you got so mad
you said illegal things and promised a jab
you couldn’t hold back your rage
you need to be locked away
what the hell you call yourself a dad
you promised to send me back to mom and not look back
i hope you burn in hell
I wish somehow I could torture you myself
I couldn’t stand puttin’ down my own father for nothin’
this is somethin’
so big it could change if I love em
or bother with em
I don’t wanna be like you
so stop saying back in the day
“I easily tricked my mom
went places and got away”
If I was like you I’d be a fat lazy punk
who thinks he can take on anyone
You don’t even get the mental game of it
you only know the physical but legit
you don’t know what it’s like to wanna commit suicide
when it’s just not enough to sit and cry
so why do you think that you know me
how do you win all of these arguments
I would step into hell bow to the devil
decent to the abyss, death at high risk
you wouldn’t even change for your son
worship for your daughter
you loved Janice more than us
so tell me f’ up is that smarter
this is the part where I say
after all of those years you were there
but afta what you you put me through
who the hell cares
and if I see you after I leave
I would want you to stay away from me
I know you did your best, but accept
that your only son in world ain’t commin’ back
and I ain’t sorry
The Astrometry
Inspired by the art of www.shel-yang.deviantart.com
The Astrometry- By Jennifer Gerry
It was something that she had always wondered about. Why the clouds floated by her window, she would dream about the world beyond her. She could lightly hear Ayumu fingering, whatever it was. Just another one of his endless supply of odds and ends that did something. Although at least this time she had a guess. At least she knew it was some kind of lens. After all, she had seen him take it off the telescope. She could hear the light noise of the polishing cloth, formerly his pocket square, as he wiped the spot from the lens. The mid afternoon sun was lowering in the sky and she saw the change in the wind. The clouds drifted over them now. The glass ceiling of the atrium loomed over them and above its high dome the clouds drifted even higher. She wondered. Ayumu patiently ignored her distant wandering as she shifted her arms on the back of the sofa. Despite his polished appearance, his collar was popped and the fact that he was using his pocket square to polish a lens lead one to think differently of his nature.
A quiet demure person at heart he found Amami’s useless wandering so be rather relaxing, despite her outlandish behavior sometimes. Still he didn't have the heart to right his collar, at least with her there anyways. The palms brushed against the walls of the atrium as the air conditioning came on. The many plants inside needed tender care. That duty fell to them, however it was not a task to be taken lightly. Although he often found her mind to be rather blank, he couldn't help but think that Amami was well suited for the caring sort of job. He was nearly done with the lens now, and soon it would be dark enough to use the telescope. And then they would part, return to there dorms, to return the next day once agin to care for the plants. it was a routine he had found himself comfortable with and although there were few things that could get a response out of him, Amami was one of them.
She sighed a bit and looked down at him as he finished wit the lens and placed it back into the end on the telescope. Getting it into place, he gracefully sat back down on the sofa, and listened as Amami returned to her little dreamworld. The mint green pillow she had leaned on slid down the back of the sofa and came to rest beside her. She pushed herself up on the back of the couch as he attempted to refold his pocket square. It was something he did frequently, yet, he always found it better when she helped. “ Ayumu? Do you think that we will change as much as the clouds. I know things are going to change, your graduating this year. Still I like things like this.” He looked back down to his lap, re-concerning himself with the pocket square. “ Yeah, your right. It will be fine.”And once again, she lost herself in the shifting clouds.
The stars would be out soon.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
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