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David Hendricks Poem
The woods hissed and sn*ggered but weren't without their charms
A ghostly silloette in the distance like a girl without her arms
A floating figure, lifted as if hung down from yarn, puppet like
Blocked out some light as the moon rose into sudden night
A puddle, suprized by the kick of life it was given
Dived over the crimson clothing of a passer by
Not batting an eye the shadow glides an leaps in wind
Approaching a tree supporting a corpse beneath its limbs
The breeze's secretive so it seems the bodies breathin' sings
Arrived. A cloak hides its features, a bag opens, it reaches in
Still speachless in the shower, yet no wet words to greet us
Though now a mouths visible behind work of an expert seemstress
Wild weather beats the woodland creatures deep undercover
All but two inhabitants, the hooded one.. & one other
Our second stood, furred thickly, big teeth in a brown jaw
Having difficulty reading, vision blurred by the downpour
Lit by light the town brought, a poster was just clear enough
''Assassin Wanted! If you catch the killer, fear you should
For finding this foe will bring, not tears, but blood
And a reward of 10 g's for anyone, police.. even Robin Hood'
The final statement sent shivers up his spine, an how then?
The King hated Robin, and the Queen signed the announcement
Heart poundin' at the thought of ten big ones he couldn't wait for
The character reread the paper, rapid fast.. just to make sure
Sure enough the word was good, but the woods weren't silent
A twig broke, someone close quitely worked beside him
The tree sustaining the message had been blocking them from view
The otherside was a hooded person, white stockings an gloves on too
The hood moved......and the disguise unravelled
It was Red Riding Hood picking mushrooms the size of apples
Copyright © David Hendricks | Year Posted 2019
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David Hendricks Poem
And that is why... this platform is here for answers they can't deny...
It's a truth within a complexity that is standing high...
Let us follow the roots and explore the depths of its grand design...
Cause every line that's said is movement, pulling the hands of time...
If it's finding ones self you seek, then there's no shame to show pain...
Let it rest on the canvass, as words intercept thrown paint...
And type your little heart out, till it goes faint...
The whole slate of perception is diverse, n' is electrified when you're so quaint.
I do, sometimes, look disgustingly at the state that were in...
It was almost like I was promised I wouldn't take it again...
To some degree, I even hate to begin on the character traits
associated with a culture I now feel like I was raised to defend...
But then, it becomes quite clear.
That reflection looking back at me is past beliefs
Influencing my perception on what rap's should be...
Sometimes, I wish I could open my brain up, just so cats could see...
The modern rap scene created is a catastrophe
Reading articles from Hip Hop magazines that glorify
such a a tragic scene, a sewn in projection in which this madness seams...
To flow, but in hindsight, that contrast means
That there's no unison - the truest expression involved for pages this music's in...
The double edged sword, cutting.
Giving this something new to get the people buzzing...
Even if it's more a discussion.
Simply explore. Go ahead and open the door that you're clutching.
Or close it n' study from out of it's outer corridors, before you can touch it.
Risks, negative or positive, is all it is.
Freedom of information, challenging the politics of the modern conglomerates
Who follow this, read n' discuss the model with novelists...
Arguing the logic missed, saying the loss was autonomous...
Writing for nobody but myself no less...
whether bored or stress, core distress from your inner war, expressed...
through dialog, uniformed to text...
objectives the key... to act as the projections our directions can see...
High beams on, light cascades the gravel through the rest of the street...
The reflection you seek through the currents, pressed in the sea, exposing the complexion, beneath...
Each text is a neat symbol for the directive
our perceptions often try to block, like an expletive bleep.
How can one compose a sentence, if no message is deep?
How can one be one dimensional, without pressing delete?
Such a lexicon of questions, for those expressing belief...
In a higher form of tonality as the tools for the job rest at their feet...
I look at the state, conclusions arise around the music comprised...
And the illusions surmised from the lewdness that tries alluding our eyes
When I view it, disguised renditions of the closed minded...
troll-guided souls citing their own science, got the entire globe biased.
Getting shifted from their agenda, a bunch of exposed privates...
Flooded with inhibition, so they're quick to go for the road highest...
Only to find out that the lane they've chosen to follow...
Has much more of an influence than the liquor they hold in their bottle...
Deep within... those boundaries, there's a layer lying beneath the skin.
And a welcome mat for that cowardice elf to greet him in...
But there's also closed doors, that are bolted shut...
Until that one "key" we've seen before comes and it opens up...
The mind is a subject one doesn't know enough,
Only observations of objectives we perceive to be so corrupt...
That it's like the cypher's just throwing "stuff"...
Nothing insightful, n' therefore meaningless.
A query for the proxy on, like "Why are you reading this?
You see, you need something that will be genius."
And I'm agreeing, it's about time we see such a being...
drawn to this scene, exists.
But even it's just a variation in the shades they acquire...
To contrast two different pieces which results in a combined taste of desire...
the collective of pieces, pressed in a sequence...
And read from the text to complete this... resonation of messages
like professional speeches...
We'll cast judgement, there's no stopping that,
but to have this dialog intact? is what has drawn as back.
From what I see in this game, it's fact!
They say it's easy to learn, and impossible to master...
And I agree, every day is like an obstacle to plaster...
Every minute it's like its legs are walking a little faster...
Every person involved is stopping it from disaster...
But stopping what? This intricate thinking ship I will not give up...
I will be kicking rocks in the pond, until every frog destructs...
And the me today, might not be the me tomorrow...
My feelings may differ and then? There will be an entirely new ink to this pen...
But I assure you, the man writing this will be thinking of him...
From a future apprehension, n' may even link him, again.
They think it's the end. I say it's a hiccup, indeed.
There will be a few bumps, but wait until it picks up in speed...
Many walks of life, it makes no difference to me.
As long as the end result? Is that you've given a key.... for him to be free.
Copyright © David Hendricks | Year Posted 2019
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David Hendricks Poem
IF TONIGHT WAS MY LAST.........
it would be okay.......I have lived a good life......and found the blessings in pain.....
I have inspired people for lifetimes.......and helped show loves way.....
I have jimmied locks on minds........so the traps would break......
I have cried enough tears.......and caused some grand change.....
I have discovered that dungeons and dragons are very real things......in the spirits energy frame.....
I have seen the supernatural.......up close in my face.........
have been scared to death.......pretended I was okay......and made my way....
i have loved those that won't ever return the same love......
and I know nobody I can change.......I can only show signs a love divine....
and hope my help won't fade.......
always a being of love.......in a world so lacking of grace........
and like the women I love the most......it helps me feel life is alive.....
when I cry these tears........that I guess I want to stay.......
though like cunningham I love happy days.......
but what's ed is being alone......without a girl.....who feels the same.....
to kiss and hold me......and say baby you'll be okay.....
I miss the few days.......that heaven opened up it's gates......
but I could not stay.......my job was too low pay.....and i couldn't afford the rent.....
so I got kicked the out.......now with permanent scars and dents......
though I was left with party favors......like our lords intoxicants......
and I still make ladies hot........but I'm as good as shot......
without one to understand who I am.......and the plot in which I can rock.....
trapped talent in my head its a sickness.......nose fulla snot........
on lock like I'm caught........by a new mystical woman......
and I don't like the way we talk........even though I speak daily with god
cause I need her physical touch........cause I'm still sick .......
and prolly have withdrawls from pot........
maybe she really thinks I'm evil.........like the devil with all this love.......
something of fairytales........that this planet profit off.......
but don't believe in that much........
I'm strong enough........to reveal true vulnerability........
so far distant and local powers.......have watched over me........
and the god in me as well.........full of prolific magic spells......
showing this world it's heart........and how I've always felt.......
a artist of heights rarely known........skills full blown but humble and postponed....
as I leak my phyzeek slow........cautious as I grow..........
so many of painful past........so I bare my words naked......
and it is difficult on this path.........but I know angels watch over.......
I wasnt fortunate enough to have a mother and dad.......
But hip hop was like a father ........who resides in my brain......
revelations revealed.......are the essence of why I came......
seduced by the most beautiful queens.......and burnt by tortured loves......
I've given before all I am.........and found it's not enough.......
because I'm just love.........and I'm not rich like puff.........I'm just love......
and I'm sicker than hell.......as my future moves feet in heavens......
higher powers have given me knowledge.......beyond most everyones comprehension...
so underground I'm hailed royalty........but it don't make much sense......
cause I feel so alone..........
even though theres others like me.......
I have so much emotion inside..........I'm afraid to kill the stage.......
reading signs .....like pearl jams riot act........so I hold back my rage.....
a young sage who found ways.......to help you bless the page......
Copyright © David Hendricks | Year Posted 2021
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David Hendricks Poem
Military Industrial Complex out to enslave the masses/
Save your asses from these genocidal, dangerous facists/
They’re releasing gaseous anthrax to take breath outta me/
Our Social Security Numbers are used for their death lottery/
The Bermuda Triangle is a training zone used to sink your ships/
Satellites equipped with death rays at the illumanti’s fingertips/
Mandatory brainwashing techniques used to baffle vets/
Coded messages with the withheld thirty letters of the alphabet/
Biparty electoral system to disguise true dictatorship/
Hitler alive and well and in charge of ‘Project Paperclip’/
Freemasons blast at the ozone layer with fatal contaminants/
Preparing the atmosphere for the coming of alien inhabitants/
Race of supermen nourished by Roswell’s special consumption/
Induction to secret society through extraterrestrial abduction/
Production of mass destruction is at the heart of industry/
Tracking devices in our teeth through the art of dentistry/
Nano technological implants inserted in our lymph nodes/
Knowing our position through twenty dollar bar strip codes/
Satan’s army convenes in a pentagram shaped Aryan facility/
West Nile used to test mosquitoes’ disease carrying ability/
Medical teams with tainted vaccines swirl death over a nation/
This elite squad of assassins is the World Health Organization/
Testing AIDS and Ebola viruses on unwitting third world subjects/
With unheard success, perfect murders with no unfurled suspects/
Don’t look at me like that! I’m not paranoid! Take heed I say!/
One out of ten emcees on this board really work for the C.I.A/
They’re all around us and their true intention’s malevolent/
Inspecting the internet searching for the dissenting element/
Video games aren’t irrelevant. Here evil is really resident/
Look how fast they silence me if I say ‘Kill the Pres..
Copyright © David Hendricks | Year Posted 2019
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David Hendricks Poem
medication malfunctions, feelin 6 in depression
world guessin eyes stressed when, lord of heaven drops confessions
code of matrix saturates, bash it's core of hate.....
make my getaway, in noble deeds as I speed.....
so fast must move slow, "straight puffin nothing".....
prolly double la's, djing skills full blown
information overloads, only wished her as my home
at peace in her taste, these visions I cannot escape
so I drew her .....a sketch, scared to death of this fate....
for an easy victim, I could be to her darkness....
still eye marches, able to raise these arches....
a smart kid, a smart kid.....
so in metaphysical, i need sages of honor
in flesh to bring me home, i need her mystic awareness
to help me shine light, from the curses I have known
a dedication or earth rotation, and my seed to raise and grow
can everything be shown, and us still stabilize our domes....
beat hearts and mesh as one, melt into her flesh......
we can take turns as sun, course I'd kiss her moons...
for a bride I am the groom, if it will bless her life.....
anything I will do, it's too complicated.....
I don't want to rule the world, only play a part....
and have true love, with that special woman.....that girl....
so naked at heavens gate, i come and speak my piece....
so many nights I have fought, still I see the beast.....
and it's death within me, trying to ruin my plees....
not of insanity, but that she is what I need.....
and for this world, through arts I can teach.....
I can only do my part, small or nothing to some....
to others an angel who frees, and love.....and love.....
is all that I believe, and the love in her......
I guess I've always prayed, someone like that.....
could say I'm the one, and set me free......
and we can be, patient......
and build at eachothers sides, through lows and highs.....
and greys in between, we could still be satisfied.....
a host merely is all I am, and gods force burns and hurts.....
relieve me of this sad song, I've felt deeply since birth....
look at the children, and learn......
for they are united as one, until they are taught to turn....
nothing will be perfect, only I ask that we strive....
to make it a little better, for too many mothers cry......
I speak of this beautiful woman, there's something inside.....
and I ask lord from my core, for a fidelity beyond time....
what I ask for is this too much, when true self we find....
and I've given so much, I don't know how I"m still alive.....
and I cry, now it's in my eyes......
and scripts as this, will always be clowned......
because I'm right before your eyes, yet you can't hear the lines....
you can't feel what's thine, though I am forever.....
alone I've had too much time, I can only send this message.....
and struggle to survive, feeling like the host.....
and god the parasite inside, doing his/her work.....
and paying no price, but torment and electricution.....
still I keep my honesty in circulation, backhanding demons.....
I do not shoot first, and few catch my meanings......
soul of the cosmos, intangible intelligence......
though it is all forgotten, when I am that fumbling human....
few remember, all the contributions......
I will hold this love, and listen to my feelings....
and there is no more I can do, than be me....
and put my words in public, so a world may have the chance....
to help me, and you
and if she is taken, by another mans embrace in
a placement she's in love with, help me change my focus....
I wish her no harm, I'm just honest and direct....
I was suicidal, had to act with a package drastic....
it was disturbed, but full of loves magic......
thought I solved something, but I couldn't reach out and grab it
physical touch I'm lackin, I say it in the open......
being a player, I will suffer till the gates are open.....
i will struggle till the gates are open, could say I'm too whiny....
but I would make a good father, to her children.....word up....
"no letting go, no holding back"
this is not a masterpiece, just the spirit in my body.....
the one who misses dearly, the mate of my soul.....
do I see her clearly, as so-called hell raises it's fury....
this is ridiculous, but at least I think she hears me......
she could be laughing, or teary........
even if I never am so lucky, I wish you love......you are a beauty....truly
one to behold ......a warm soul in the darkness bringing light to a world so cold .....
The "she" or "her" I was referring to in this is not an actual person but a metaphor for "faith"
Copyright © David Hendricks | Year Posted 2021
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David Hendricks Poem
One thing I'll neva do is provide a pre-packaged product for you
I'm quality food, so mouth shut, shallow and chew
Speaking in tongues. I came to shower people with love
like, you're not breathing enough, and that's the reason you suck
some cats can't follow me past the first line
too deep for the small mind
I laugh it up, no matter what's happening, I'm fine
just glad to be alive
focused, precise, and in total control of my life
you ain't nothin but a chump to me, just company property rap
I'm watching my back, burn bridges at the drop of a hat
ripping mics and living like Jesus for now
so if you see me in town, let me sleep on your couch, really
am-bivalent about the thought of fans listening
and watching my hands scribbling contraband images
yes, you are now in tune with the sound of poverty
album quality, straight to underground economy
you heard about the dirty weapons cause you never witnessed it
Imma human television with depth and vivid images
what's the gameplan? watch my ego do a faceplant
a chan, a god man, used to have a basic cable brainspan.
what you got, dude? nothing but a rhyme and a hot loop
and a promise you can stop it the second it's not true
now you rappers make it hard to believe in your music
I hear what you're saying, the problem is I see what you're doing
now if I bless the beat, best believe I spoke it honestly
because I know you're watching me like the flow was stolen property
so from all the love and respect to all the stuff I regret
when it's five o clock in the morning and nothing is left
no lies and no secrets to hide from those demons
cuz we live like dogs and we die for no reason
so strip the language away, the games that we play,
be creative and brave and drop some knowledge today,
with single moms living on some government checks
who struggle with debt facing a future that's nothing but stress
see, I choose to speak to those who truly need the food and heat
losing sleep while their favorite rapper shops for jewlery
kids who learned firsthand the truth is useless
going to school with bruises and a thousand smooth excuses
broken down for those who doubt the pain behind the music
like, let's rewind the tape so I can find the frame to prove it
Copyright © David Hendricks | Year Posted 2019
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David Hendricks Poem
I'm the topic of discussion, a lot of me is functioned
Off of the asumption that I've probably been punching
Things to harm by beating it, the gossip is percussion
But the anger pulls me in and I've been lost within the suction
A possible seduction, I like to scab and bruise
See it's sort of like a fetish that just sets a passive use
It's an active truth through time I've been a persons attribute
Attacking you sometimes but I cannot deny, the facts are views
Seen by anyone but some just give to us a wack excuse
But thats redundant cause I'm everywhere and quite attractive too
You see my random acts pursue provoking me to act a fool
Victims picked at random cause it's hard to choose exactly who
I feel to slash in two's, smack or shoot, slice and pummel
Cause I like to rumble, take advantage of the wife that struggles
See the crisis bundle up the lifes'll plummit like a fumble
I'm consistent to the point where you can say I might be humble
I'm your uncle, mom or father, sister, brother, son or daughter
I've been known to change my form sometimes, a knive, gun or revolver
Marijuana, any drug, I'm the astrigent for a robber
Plus I write about my sins but I'm an insufficent author
A menace that has offered, pain to people pure in posture
Easy to come by you see I'm no deterred imposter
Some times the cure’ll cost you, I'm in every murder’s roster
Heard of monster’s, well I'm worse I got the keys to hearse I park you
In the dirt and then I toss you, I strive to cause you pain
The mental institution bus that drives you all insane
Depriving you from fame, dark when I begin to stain
Your inner conscience I just cause you to sniff lines into the brain
I'm the fire in the flame,the fabrication fighters get
The mind inside the knife antagonizing you to slice your wrist
To leave you fiberless, you'll die from me without the righteousness
Commited by a person, place, or thing no doubts that I exsist
Psychiatrist, a nurse, a preist, or your nervous niece
The concerned police, the hemoglobin where the murder sleeps
The curb or street, collision where the car doesn't alert the tree
I'm a speech impediment, profanity .. the words you speak
Curse it me, I'm a sin, the least expected, I'm a friend
Released agression, crime within your mind the sims'll need protection
Eased aggression, five percent, the other 95 is this
Live intent's, the people rest beneath, addressed decisiveness
I-am-this, painfully a force .. morbidly sick with
A style that's a couple sandwiches still .. short of a pic-nic
And every human being see is of course a statistic
Brain waves are so uneven it's too distorted to fix it
Fortunate mis-fit .. see I coach a league of my own
Im a fungus to man kind and I grow on people at home
I hope you see that I'm prone to leave broken pieces of bones
In conclusion, I'm abusive cause you wont me leave me alone ..
Copyright © David Hendricks | Year Posted 2019
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David Hendricks Poem
Ive lived with stress... that I thought I could handle
I fought death… and lost the battle
I was so battered… but I kept up my resistance
And in my mission, each step toward the finish just...
increased the distance
This is why I begin to end this, fictitious existence
Every instant I lived, I’d been fenced in…
like convicts in prison - petitioning innocence
where is my childhood.. even in infancy
I had dreams of things I shouldn’t think-
money, abuse, and ways to eat cloud my memories
why me? I guess people just hated to like me
in spite of the bright things I tried to do for society!
I fell to the ground.... they stomped me down lower
Over and over… the same problems held my progress back slower
You don’t understand how it is when I get angry
The rage is remaining but there’s no one here to save me!
Tear-soaked flames run down my eye-sockets
But time stops it from unlocking
'cause pain will supposedly pass
pain is like strain- encaging me
enslaving me
please explain... why the insides of my brain refrain to be
restrained from insanity and pain
like rail track lanes for speeding trains
I need to be stopped...
I’ll never be free from this war...
Until death marries me, and life lets me divorce
Copyright © David Hendricks | Year Posted 2019
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David Hendricks Poem
I pattern my rhymes to relate to the divine plans of the maker/
Marvel at how my nouns and verbs seem to dance on the paper/
Advanced orators don’t hesitate to drop the prepositions/
And don’t use words unless you know the proper definitions/
Create metaphors and similes to enhance the verbal imagery/
Discard any absurd words that disturb the symmetry/
The energy used in your verses should be used in your chorus/
And don’t be ashamed to use a dictionary or view a thesaurus/
The law is never to bite a rhyme cause you’ll face relentless hell/
Always practice your elocution when the opportunity presents itself/
And defend yourself whenever you’re faced with instigation/
Constantly write what you see. Don’t waste the inspiration/
Some misuse their muse and write pieces that barely move/
Find topics in your daily news or try views that’s rarely used/
Don’t choose to follow pop kids in their quest for tall pockets/
Their life is all profits as they digress to false prophets/
Claim to be discerning entities without learning empathy/
Requiem for fallen emcees as their bodies burn in effigy/
My recipe for writing lyrics of all classic varieties/
Mix in skill and honesty and add small dashes of irony/
Don’t lie to me about packing heat for handling stress/
Damsels in undress and how your style’s damaging reps/
Can I suggest you keep it real and spit I can feel/
Ink scripts with writing skill and flow sick with mic appeal/
Don’t get discouraged for fear that all your peeps will hate it/
This is the primary obstacle on the road to being creative/
And be original, whether you’re a warrior or a pacifist/
Find your own niche in the realm of emceeing and master it/
/
There’s 7 billion stories in this world all ya gotta do is tell em….
Copyright © David Hendricks | Year Posted 2019
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David Hendricks Poem
lot of things on my mind filled with deepness, so when you read this- I hope you let me release this- inner theory in my thesis- seems that, there’s a lot of people on the planet- though none planned it- most "LIVE" in "EVIL" – lives twisted, dyslexic and satanic- but the total sum is tragic- cuz half the fractions of the ones whose actions are right- have lost their insight- see they ain’t sittin on pedestals like they earned it- they’re still sufferin with the rest who deserve it- all flesh is a form of person- we all know no-one is perfect- but some are still workin to reach that condition- hollerin praises to higher positions- in hopes that someone’s listenin- tears glistening as their years of reminiscent pain fades into thoughts of christening- which leads me to my question-that’s been exploding inside my body like eruptions- for almost a decade-
is there really a God or is it just a façade- shots sprayed- and men died from the force of a small grenade- in ten days 10,000 angels layed- countless crusades have invaded the population like a cascade of Satan’s flames- doused in Jesus’ blood, in hopes to have help, and met up with No One- why run from fact? that’s because there’s fiction- and society will trade in a lie to save friction- when Jesus spoke to the masses with sharp diction- what was the reason some sick men still endured their afflictions- why did some lost children still receive no attention- why did prostitutes and drunks still have an addiction-
because No One’s views are contradicted and denied- time after time we forget No One risked one life- for many- and still didn’t get any tears cried as his stumbling stride approached the cross and died- No One subsided- collided on the inside and left the outside world divided- cuz people abided with the lies to subside with the ‘good’- and people’s inner egos got the best of where His pride stood- as he sliced the wood he laid on with the nails of his truth- I pondered over the issues I’d been asking since my youth-
everyone has a No One – and No One goes unnoticed- speakin intellectual thoughts but man’s heart remains unfocused- it’s appallin that the “real world”-as people call it- could be crashin down so quickly but no one sees it fallin- half of the world is frontin; the other half is scared to- the other 0% defines the ones branded as true- that leaves No One – and No One is perfect- the only One who could come close to perfect is God- my cause comes across with dropped jaws and outstretched claws- approximate that the laws I spoke were rather odd- revealing the theorem that maybe No One was the same as God
Copyright © David Hendricks | Year Posted 2019
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