The Perfect Circle

[Philosophy]

This is another spoken word piece I wrote, also about breaking, but less about my involvement in it.


Hands open.
Eyes open.
Mind open.
Heels just barely off the ground,
But my intent set so far beyond.
I will destroy you in the most peaceful way possible.
I will devour every pattern, infallible.
I will deploy my thoughts, manifest a box,
Turn it to a cypher then make homicide plausible.
I’ll be reasonable, and respectable,
I promise.
You’ll be feeble, insubstantial,
When I’m finished.
But let’s back it up, and breathe the life into the art,
You can throw your name up until I do my part,
In the light of things, you can stare into the dark,
Because the first fight... is with myself.
In the cypher, everything matters,
Conduct, attitude in battles...
But what matters most is the heart and the drive,
With no purpose is no meaning, is no art, is no life.
So... I breathe.
I breathe...
I lean forward...
And freely...
I breathe out the hate,
Breathe out the tension,
Breathe out the clouds,
There’s nothin’ in my way.
Hands open.
Eyes open.
Mind open.
Future... open.
And now the drive--not to defeat myself--
But to better the shadow to lock up my hell,
Is here...
And I will use it.
I will push it.
So I push it.
I push it just a little further than it needs to go.
I rush the circle, battle factor, hungry, thirsty for
The soul, the beats, the burns, the soul,
The scrapes, the soul, the flames, the whole,
The game, the grace, the soul, the soul,
Is my thirst quenched?
Nah, and I’m never full.
But that’s life as I know it, no reason to slow it down,
The circle is my paper, and I’ll be its poet, now
Indeed, the pen is mighty, don’t spite me,
I’ll make this claim,
My kinetic poetry will slay the quill and blade.
This is the circle. There is no fame.
The respect is unbiased, untied, but must be gained,
So here we go. Gain it. I dare you to breathe.
Make the outline jagged, even better, make it scream.
Make it break... make it bleed.
Now as I battle you, I battle me,
Restart the cycle, artistry,
I battle me, I lean, I breathe,
I see, I feel, I feed, I need.
This is free philosophy.
Stainless and non-toxic,
Not quite quixotic,
Love of wisdom at its finest.
...
Hands open.
Eyes open.
Mind open.
Open the damn circle again.

[Doaj]

Woah. Weird. Not the poem itself, but how much it reminds me of my own writing. Not trying to be arrogant, haha, but like, we allude to a lot of the same things. Pen vs. Sword, art, and it feels like it has a lot of emotional focus that's delivered in the same manner. Super cool man.