Tag Archives: Death

My Poetry, Photography, Poetry, Stories, Writing

Dreaming of murder by: Nina

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6:19 AM :That’s sleeping in for me. Crawl to the laptop and its hard to keep my eyes open. The coffee maker is crackling. I just dreamt that I murdered an old friend and oddly thats not shocking and I’m just exited how real the night city-scape was in my subconscious mind.  So surreal and I definitely had no idea I was dreaming: asking friends for help to cover up the murder. I cant remember exactly what he did but it was enough for us to bash his skull in. Blood stained memory cards taken by homicide investigators as I take cover in the night> Maybe this post is too much for the morning… I made a poetry slam video called: Dreams/Every Night because I dream every night and they are usually extremely realistic and often profound. Obviously there was more to the dream than the murder and thats why I brought it up. As I sat in the car going to pick up stolen evidence on the murder case; the lights and the city and the traffic just seemed “too real” more real than the concious world we live in. I came to the conclusion that this city was somes ort of duplicate (technically it was) I began to drive frantically through the alleys unsure where I was going DUMBFOUNDED BY SUBCONCIOUS IMAGERY left, right, left right. I come into a dead end… 6:19 AM:  Thats sleeping in for me. Crawl to the laptop and try to keep my eyes open…

COFFEE IS READY!

NINA

Hip Hop, Poetry, Stories, Wu Tang, Zen

Zen Samurai -Poetry of war. By Nina Yin

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Meditation on inevitable death should be performed daily, once ones body and mind are at peace; they should imagine being ripped apart by arrows, swords, and spears.

Being thrown off thousand foot cliffs, dying of disease, or commuting seppuku at the deaths of one’s master.

One should consider themselves as dead..

-Hagakure

Why should I be afraid to face anything, death….

Here and now I stand strong as myrtle trees. In depth in the substance of the way.

Although tyrant treachery stands to my face clutching weapons; I have nothing to hide nor fear… with weapons of my own.

Do not attest to who and what I am before I eclipse your mind into the nothingness in which we came from.

You cannot acclimate to this level of which you I fear not; devil in the midst, you make me laugh as I draw my sword.

Like an olden tax collector in Roman times you harass the poor and underprivileged. You disgrace the city we worked so hard to rise.

I didn’t know it was tax collection day….

I cut you down at dawn and watch the sunrise twinkle in your pool of blood, wiping my blade on your Babylonian uniform.

Bowing unto your rotting flesh.

-Nina

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