Why I Hate Rap Haters, But Love Poetry by Raymond Ngomane

 Poetry about issues surrounding Hip Hop and or the elements within the culture are easily my personal favourite for two reasons really:

1. The everlasting relevance

and

2. It's pretty difficult to challenge a creative art form being used to expresses it's love for or frustration with another creative art from.

So, with that being said, below is a piece I came across while looking up a little bit about the open mic night that'll be taking place on the 28th of July at the Joburg Theatre, which happens to be organised by this poet. Enjoy, fellow rap lovers and hater haters...

Dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge
Poetic lifeguards use applause to save lives
When you see rap flying far from poetry's interests

Dodge,

Fasten your seat-belt and enjoy the bloody verbal battle
In sessions poetry speaks in tones of a crying soul
Rap is built on concrete rhythms mixed with first bricks of venomous alphabets
Rap is an angry poem
Rap is poetry
but poetry will never rap like rappers air polluting words to poet their ideas
I mean, if rap is literature,
why has it started so many wars between ideas

Walls of belongings in the middle of fear
Appre-ciations
Appre-ciate and question things

Blind words can see the difference
Why has rap created rivals in many societies
Haters hate us
While poetry stinks of welcoming joints
Modern rap has a stench of juvenile points
I played this word game in my head
Ones or twice
I lost to a bunch of middle fingers spider webbed on the roof of my creations
Haters, my mates

Rap can be spoken in sign language
Both animals eat words and poop spoken rhythms
Both body languages undress opinions in different approaches when speaking crises
Poetry's violent approach comes from humans who speak to teach
My poetry likes the anxiety of a beat

I hate material rap haters
I intend to seed Africa’s womb with baby words to grow poetry in your rap choices

Art cannot be written off, long as there's soul in that flash, there's life before trash
I recently adopted a second born skin
My child is a shield blocking weakness of my bones to animal views
My meaning is behind the lens of my third eye
I wish i can share my visual thoughts in a language
louder than the sound of a broken TV reception
Shhhhhhhhhhhhh
Brake the eyes of stillness
I wish i can walk my words of metaphors injecting needles of knowledge
With no fear
My missionary position
I intend to seed Africa’s womb

If you'd like to see more work by Raymond Ngomane hit up the link

- Peace, love and hip hop
KTTIB