last acentos had a weak turnout… punto… dont know if it was the fact that it was right before thanksgiving… or as mah people say, el dia del pavo… maybe it had to do with that fact that we were the last leg of joaquín’s new york tour… if that was the case… too bad for y’all… joaquín brought some new sheet as per Acentos tradition and treated us proper… i am far from panicking but i also refuse to believe we have hit the high water mark for audience or any of that sheet…
i have been noticing a lot of folks that only want to hear themselves on the mic and then bounce… maybe its the proliferation of these mics that let you hop on two, three times a night… thats a good way to really stroke out your own ego and show the world how dope you are… of course, by your third visit you should be running dry unless you are neruda.type.prolific but far be it for me to point this out… this lil bit of hatah has been buliding up in me for a while… cuz you know that these same mofos are going to jump on the “we do it for the love of the word” cross when i point this, or there lack of depth, out to em…
i have recently entered new hatah territory… the amuse yoself zone… cuz i see the cycles building and i dont have much hope when someone jumps on the mic and rehases the same theme… at work… you ever make a copy of a copy that was a bay copy to begin with?… this is how i am feeling lately… i can see where some of these folks picked there style from… and they didnt start in the loftiest place… again, this is just me being me so ya never know… i am famous for being wrong…
well, lets just say this… when i see ya walk out on a mic cuz you did your thing and you dont need to hear no more… i am noticing… this one girl wlaked out in the middle of one mic and i swear, her boot heels sounded like jackhammers on concrete… worse was the smug look on her face like if she did something… “thanks for the this pussy is special poem, it really shifted my entire axis”… i also need a “four more years” poem like i need a “four more years” blog entry… what the fuk is a puerto rican.republican?… is it anything like a cuban.republican or maybe a bolivian.democrat or an argentenian.libretarian?… somebody let me know… i am starvin for a warm cup of “i know more than you”
i am currently on the sleep deprived tip… following up four hours of sleep with… NO hours of sleep… i hate holidays… for real… what did people do before the greeting.cards took over?… maybe just be nice to each other on the regular… maybe avoid relatives they dont like for the obvious reasons?… today is no different than when the gang hangs and splits some cheesecake for the love of the thing… ‘cept we have to do it… all mah friends HATE being told to do anything… just sayin’
this wasnt the post i wanted to write… but what the hell… mah blog/mah rules… you would not believe how thin my patience has been lately… the last few weeks have been the equivalent of sitting next to the bad relative at the table… “be good to your cousin, now”… at one dinner in ecua, i told mah whole fam that mah blood cousin was a cok blocker who should just grow enough balls to ask for what he wants… now i have to smile at folks who could combust in front of me and i would just light a cigarrette in the scandal of it all…
the perspective has been awesome though… i am seriously seeing what an ass i was for years under the guise of being a good businessman… its better to be an artist… at least you have to be honest with ONE person, if you want to succeed… business never allowed me that kind of reflection… i was good at it though… being an ass/being in biz… a lot carried over into poetry… glad i am shedding the skin… glad that people around me are more honest…
to mah honest peoples- i love ya like macys loves parades
to the rest- thanks for the light
holee SHEET man
this is supposed to be sankgibbing, the love is supposed to flow like wine.
instead, we are given this hate-filled diatribe.
I love it. hehehe
ahem,
the correct spelling is sanksgÃbin.
and like luis would say regarding the post,
“i love it, i love it. the ratings are through the roof”
j