DARIAS LANHAM

POETRY 
FOLLOW HIM ON TWITTER @OHINI_JONEZ

Ohini Jonez is a pissed off artist who can't take it anymore. Born in the city-state of Brunswick, on the Planet Georgia in the Stankonia Star System (Dirty South), Ohini Jonez has had to tolerate a lot of bullshit. Monopoly's taking over the industry and breaking it down into 3 companies distributing music. Weak ass writers only talking about pussy and dick with nothing adding to the imagination. Dry political rhetoric from Black people who forgot Democrats fuck them too, only its with a condom so you feel a little less disrespected. Oh yeah, and people who pour paint on a canvas, let their six year old walk on it, and call it art. Just because your beats are off key don't make you Sun Ra, it means you're tone def. Just because you pause instead of saying like in your similes doesn't make you an artistic genius, it means you steal from Big Sean. If you paint and can't draw put some meaning behind it. And poets, please progress what the hell you say, because some of you don't, stuck in 1995 and shit... dildo's...
August 26th 1987 to Infinity I'm out this bitch like a one night stand....




Black Warhol


When will Edie commit suicide? And do you think she'll let us film it?
Can we catch her soul in a digital camera...
Or will the release of her spirit simply burn into the 8millimeter film of my mind?
Using my apathy to take the worlds self destruction in context
You all deserve it... Letting 15 minutes of fame and imaginary value
Trick you into thinking any of this is worth it at all
Contempt is the first sign of becoming a monster, under a full moon of fallacy
My genuine concern has transformed into a snarling malevolent pity
Its malevolence is designed so I don't feel pain and waste tears
That would only bead and slip off your plastic world
Despising my humanity for connecting me with silicone two legged impostors
Microchip wired technovirus infected digested potential
Shitted out listening to Top 40 in a cubicle pushing pencils
Shitted on by a system that only rewards minstrels
Poisoning the planet Mother Nature on her Menstrual
In this current state of PMS (Post Modern Society)
The law of Prehistory applied to life today
The law of the jungle is competition, meanwhile civilization
Is merely an Extinction Level Event away
Maybe the roaches can do better....


Cultural Evolution


Hunger is murder and war is time wasted while some needledick with a phallic complex
Finger fuck's someone's fate with the extension of his failed manhood
Feeling like I'm Che leading a revolution towards spiritual communism
Urging man to share in nothing but a sense of Oneness
Instead we're a Nation of numbed affection and neglected dreams
Satisfied with the material when the ties that bind us are not of this World
I seek this Infinite Energy in an Internal Deep Space
Making portals to the Soul out of Beat Breaks
Chopping loop's of truth and spitting 16's of Experience
While God man's the turntables on my Inner Galactic Stage
Hip Hop is my Culture and we were born in Poverty matured through Bloodshed
And now we emerge as a movement only lacking in direction
I suggest our Movement marches in the direction of Love
With just enough skepticism to separate the real from the Dream World


BY DARIAS LANHAM, NOM DE PLUME OHINI JONEZ

D GREASE

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FOLLOW HER ON TWITTER @D_GREASE

I was born in Puerto Rico but raised in Massachusetts since the age of one. Having grown up in Brockton, MA, there has always been a stigma that people who come from here either carry weapons or sell drugs. I did both. But there was a time in my life where I chose writing as a way of escapism and creativity. I began writing poetry as a teenager when I learned I was a girl with a resentful soul but a passionate heart. Being a person who never expressed my pain, I entered a world of words that allowed me to exist in a place where my voice didn’t have to be censored. I believe that expressing myself through writing, I am able to let out some of my most inner emotions, thoughts, and experiences without the apprehensiveness I have when I am verbally expressing myself. Most of the time I am an open book but when I write I free a side of myself that people will never experience in person. Yet, I am able to somehow feel a deeper connection with them. My poetry is real. It is the truth behind my actions. It is the purest essence of my soul.


My Letter


I am writing you this letter so that you could forgive me.
For not loving myself enough or believing you are still with me.
I have a heart with an altered love, full of falsified emotions.
I learned to hide behind walls and stay lost in time with images of a created motion.
I move forward, yet remain in the same position not having the strength to truly transition,
From the broken child to an immaculate woman
I remain in a time of chaos and never fully understanding the stability
I created in a world less devastated.
But still cried out and lost in a womanhood that trauma created.
I am writing you this letter so that you could forgive me,
For never truly using my gift and never allowing my turmoil to fully shift
Into the strength you have created within me because I allowed fear to embrace me.
To define me and leave me comfortable in a place I call home.
I am writing you this letter so that you can become me, and I you,
In this life I know that  can be pure and true.
Where my existence can shine through the light you have given me
And show me the way my heart knows you have paved for me.
So I can learn who I am and understand who you are, through me.
I am writing you this letter so that my lost soul could be found and your love can exist so profound.
Pound for pound, against my chest through the passion I possess
To make all things around me as genuine as all the things I confess.




Unsolidified Friendship


I spent years building a friendship that I hoped was solid enough to overcome anything.
Everything about us was about communication, trust and growth.
And one day it became more than most.
 A simple kiss, a gentle touch, we became intimate and I thought it was love.
We grew close and spoke about the first time. To converse about the actions that took place, or perhaps did not.
As time passed I realized I felt something more,
This so called, friend, I so much adored.
 We kissed, we touched, we loved….. we reached a level of intimacy that can either make or break our bond.
 But he wasn’t “ready” for the realness. He just wanted to chill and hang on.
With the bond stronger we were still “friends”.
A little more than most, but with commitment still a ghost.
 I was in love with him.  
He made exceptions for me and reached levels of commitment he had never achieved.
Of course I thought he was ready for me.
 I became so consumed in trying to figure everything out.
 I started to ask questions, wanted more of his time, had a higher need.
I wanted his heart because his time was not stopping. Time was not stopping.
 Discussions became disagreements and then became arguments.
 All of a sudden the bond felt broken. What I failed to realize was that it took time to feel these emotions;
I accommodated his reluctance. He was comfortable with the way things were.
The situation was different but satisfying, sufficient and ratifying.
Every time he called I was available.
Every time he needed me, I was accessible.
 Each time the phone rang I answered.
 My life revolved around his.
But his revolved around him.
 And in time, I learned a greater lesson than to loving this so called “friend”.
A girl becomes a woman when she learns to love herself more than she loves a man.




I Am Me


There is something about the air I breathe that blows my breath away. 
It might be the scent of peace or the essence of my faith. 
But I can feel it either way. 
When I am misunderstood, criticized or ignored 
I feel the strength to stay grounded and understand myself. 
When I get angry, or frustrated, or even annoyed, 
I take a breath and find myself in order to feel joy. 
I am stuck between the when and why, the what and how, and what is to be. 
But even through the trenches of dilemmas and uncertainty 
I live through each moment because I am where I want to be. 
Through the questions and lost expectations, moving passed them 
and answering only to my own inquiries and leaving turmoil behind. 
People look at me and see what they want to see.  
I am called crazy, and selfish, sometimes even mean. 
But the kindness I reveal goes unnoticed by most.  
As long as I understand the road that I travel, 
The voyage of my soul is my own. 
So I can care less about their judgment of me, 
Because at the end of each day I am who I want to be.