Train Graffiti – Nakul Vāc

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image1 From Newyork Times


The No.5 train
roaring down rat alleys
slamming out the tunnel
going whop-pop onto the high tracks

Me riding the sky
in the heart of the inner city
Over the whole burnt
and rusted country

Unseen
Unknown
Making the art of the backstreets talk

The trains go rattling over
garbagy Streets
Past the dead-eye windows of
empty tenements

That have people living there
Even if you don’t see them

Now, see
Our tags
Our cartoon figures
Bright and Rhyming poems

Our art that can’t stand still
Climbing across your eyeballs
Night and Day

Flashing those colors in your face
The flickery jumping art
of slums and dumpsters
As if
they were your movie
Motherfucker

A Found Poem, discovered in  pages 440-441 of the Scribner edition of Don Delillo’s Underworld

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I must admit – Nina

I must admit;

I’m terrified of the present and past tense

Medicinal rations get me past it.

Until my luck runs out;

Screaming I Wont come down!

My bad days are so bad that my good days are so good that I get a…

Rush; So I’m climbing up.

This aint so rough, but.

The hardest part is the way down they said…

I dont dread. IT. NOT A BIT.

Just chillin’ on this mountain top lit…

And I must admit.

Its real nice up here.

Looking down at my next nightmare.

-Nina

Bkaanak Giizhgad: Talks Aboriginal Hip Hop in Vancouver ; Manik & Ostwelve

Another day,

the nish naabe way

bkaanak giizhgad.

anthems of the indigenous kind

from ancestral beats flowing down the traplines

it’s the deep bass that resonates filling up space

from the aether above us

connects the souls of our feet to the land below us

where cyphers breathe and spark, birthing

indigenous infused rhythms and resistance

maaba hip hop bemaadziwin, that’s the hip hop life.

 

Source: & See Full Article Here: —> bkaanak giizhgad