Starving Artist.

[Fiasco]

before i can open my mind
to speak, the insecurity
chews at me until all i can do
is ball my heart in my fist
and watch it fade into
the wastebasket of my
innermost thoughts.

i'm becoming full of myself,
each taste is taken in haste
as i wait and erase, trying
ever so desperately to
escape this pit of dismissed
desires- mired in the sludge
of every ink slinger's only
nightmare. i'm becoming full
of myself again.

everything i've read lasts as
long as mourning dew on the
lips of fear. fear, of failure,
fear, of lonliness, fear that
before i taste the sweetness
only satisfaction can serve,
i'll once again succumb to my
thumb (and company) crumbling
my deepest desire. it boils down
to the realization that my every
entry has only manifested
itself as an entree that i'm
forced to choke down in the
form of just dessert.

I starve, not for satisfaction
but for a ration of sucess
and a wine of high acclaim
to drown the sorrow of my
artistry. I would barter my
assonance, diction, and poetic voice
for the idle silence of the critic's
corner that i've been forced to
face from the time i first put pen
to pad, and was considered a writer.

i consider it a tire, rotating from
circle to circle, squaring off with
the anomolous promise of praise.
parading about as if auditory
stories are beneath me. penning gems
has me pinned on the rock bottom and
bound by my proverbial precious stones.
cast into the shadow of self pity
privee to the innards of language-
and yet speechless when the grumblings
of insecurity force me to feed the belly
of the beast, hungry for justification.
lusting after timelessness, shying any and
all shortcomings away from the light that
shines from judgemental eyes, only to be
cast into the shadow of doubt.

with no way out i'm simply an artist, starving
for validation. searching in vain for that one
strain of thought that will elude the trash bin.
I ask within my innermost thoughts if that is
too much to ask..and before i can open my
mind to speak, the insecurity chews at me
until all i can do is ball my heart in my fist
and watch it fade into the wastebasket of
my innermost thoughts.

-Fiasco

[Fiasco]

umm up?

[Prince Escobar]

Well like i mentioned to Sharp man this piece was good to me but i think the upside in it is that it gives a better idea of what your potential is as a writer. That being said i'd say you are a really good writer and it shows in this piece. One thing about it is that you tend to over-explain sometimes and this if anything is the slightest detriment in this piece. However you made up for it with some very creative imagery and decadent word choice. One thing i wish is also if you had a more developed poetic voice, but that'll come with time man. Nice job, 1luv.

[Fiasco]

Thanks man, i'd love to get some more feedback.

[Spoken]

^^and that you shall have

this piece spoke with great emotion man i loved it...was it clean..yes very...it took quite an abstract adventure aswell but it was a good one in all...your elevation is getting deep man and it is sinking in nicely...your developing with nice ease as a writer in your own frame....nice shit here...i have to agree aswell to esco i think you hada good piece but it just shows your elevation...its almost there to surpass your pinnacle if you know what i mean...lol. but dude htis was a good piece..and i may say you are way better than me so....keep working at it man y ou'll get passed the poetic voice phase man.

hit this up please
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/show...me-332299.html