THE FUNKYNESS MANIFESTO
(For Rakim)
He spits similes high
makes metaphors fly
asks words to dance
and spies, as they comply.
Rolls his funky riffs
in the shape of a spliff
and blows ring ideas
so all can catch a whiff.
He creates from the concrete
debates on the downbeat
articulates an argument
plus- makes it sound sweet.
He tempts a toe to tap
And makes nappy heads nod
find himself accused
of making rhythm his god.
Though his ancestors come
from the time of talking drums
some wanna squeak and squawk
because he speaks drumtalk,
scatting Hiphop lines
in drum machine times,
his ghetto poetry flows
syncopated in rhymes.
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