Jari G.

Kosher.

there is nothing really left to say,
except…I wish you well.
don’t come back. there isn’t a home here for you.
i’ve changed shape,
but im not the missing piece to your puzzle;
i found my own puzzle worth solving.
i said don’t come back here there isnt a home for you.
sat there chillin,
told me i was crazy, trippin,
misinterpretating
when i was right on the money.
so stay. stay where you chose to be;
pity can’t catch me, suffering don’t phase me,
i said don’t come back here.
don’t knock on my door
pretending to be someone else;
your charms lost it’s shine,
but maybe it was never there to begin with.
i said, don’t you dare come back.
i staged a cleansing,
burned every wall lined with memories of you,
took a detox from the overloading of
sccent i used to want to drown from.
there is nothing really left to say
except…don’t you dare come back.
i wish you well.

 

Betrayed

Jari G.

Frantic

i want you to come down low
give it to me real good like a number one should.
can you hear me?
give it to me real good like a number one should.
are ya listenin?
im feelin all that ecstasy
when we freakin in the sheets
can ya feel me?
im livin for the raunchy way
ya lookin at me.
yeah, i know you want me.

but it’s time to stop,
take a break,
pull it back,
take a moment to reflect
if this is where ya wanna be.
cuz baby, if ya gotta ask
then maybe – it aint.
thats oki, thats oki.
i aint lonely these days,
this love it be poppin,
so hella damn faded;
i float.
ya won’t forget it.
leave ya hella frantic.

so if this is where ya want to be
let me know cuz
i just want a number one, number one
that undying,
unflinchin,
leave the money behind
pack ride and just dip right quick.
share our magic
birthed from our creations
original thinkers the only true risk takers
so i want you to show me.
i want ya to come down low
give it to me real good like a number one should.
do ya feel me?

Frantic

Jari G.

Micro

ooooo they said you back and you nasty with it.
i keep tellin ’em,
ya gotta keep it pushin
like that good blue
with that good dream.
damn we lifted.
faded out of disbelief
they wanna make a dreamer out of me,
but i can’t take it.
ain’t no way i can stomach the
overall hipocrasy,
ya judgments laced in these comments.

“look at that good hair.”
“She came out so pretty.”
“she get that nice brown tone in the sun.”
“Mmm, wouldn’t she prettier if we straightened out these curls.”
“this mane is crazy. let me pull it.”
“man, if i had yo body.”
“hahaha you skinny bitch.”
“hey light skinned.”
“church girl what you doing?”
“well, ain’t she just lucky.”
“why don’t you smile for us.”

the illusion hasn’t eluded me
so how can i? smile i mean.
how can i smile
as you continue to pass down
the mandate that’s got us so damn disconnected.
crazy how all the expression of micros
projects all the ill you out here feelin.
kinda hard to take a pause,
reflect like we don’t know where that shit is rooted,
maybe that’s why i stick around our commune,
findin ways to keep on dealin
until we can breathe some of that good livin.
priorities man.

 

Micro