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About Varied / Student Kali RobinsonMale/United States Group :icontradition-of-art: Tradition-of-Art
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I’m holding on to my gun, Like i hold on to my dick
Ready and wanting to shoot to kill,
Never me be-a-lick
I’m holding on to my gun, like I hold on to my dick
Full hand grip, holding up my shit
Never be a mark, never be a bitch
I’m holding on to my gun like I hold on to my dick
Tears won’t stop falling, I can’t lose my grip
I can’t lose control, I can’t let this go
I’m holding on to my gun, like I hold on to my dick
Crying, heated anger, fuck a nigga, standing in front of my Kid
i don’t mean my child, I mean the old inside of me
Still can’t get over that time, another nigga, made a bitch out of me
So I’m holding on to my gun like I'm holding on to my dick
Same way I picked up those scissors ready to cut the motherfucker that made a bitch out of me
He called me me a bitch, Held me down and took my shit,
I just saw the pity in her eyes, as she watched me take that hit
So now I’m never letting go, holding on to my gun, same way I hold on to my dick
Same way I’m holding on to that anger, Same way i’m holding on to my bitch
Same way I like the feel of that steel, That steel like my feel, Same feel as them scissors
Same feel as that dick, who held me down, in front of that girl, and took what I had,
then called me a bitch
I’m holding on to my gun like I’m holding on to my dick
So when it comes time to protect something again, I won’t back down and be no bitch
I’mma slide that gun into that pussy, same way that pussy slide on my dick
Yea i’m holding on to my gun, same way I hold on to my dick.
Same way I’m holding on to that steel, Same way I held on as a kid
Same way I’m holding on to her look, When that dick made me a bitch
Holding on to my gun, like I hold on to my dick
When I read a book, the better the book, the more comprehensive its grasp of perception, and reality, the more secure its grasp of knowledge, the more I hear within my mind, the soul of the author speaking. The more correlated that book with my own perception, the clearer the soul of the author was revealed to me.

And I have ceased to just simply read. Now I build a world within my mind. Conceptualize every thought, whether conscious or not, and fit it into my model of the world.

And now I have begun to perceive a unique beauty. In the fullness of her eyes, the lines to either side of her nose, formed from a scowl made when intrigued, or otherwise deep in thought. Perception is now to me becoming play, as it should be. And her beautiful black hair, each strand emerging from her scalp like an individual string of thought cast out into the world. I make regular mental inquiry into the thoughts of others, trying to imagine what unique strands of experience form their identity. And her intelligence adds the most subtle glow to her coffee skin. And in my mind, I play with her, and she is a most euphoric, enigmatic poetry.
I stare across the oak brown table,

Into the pool of her iris,
Seemingly wet, as though the stream of her mind feeds them,
And lets them live, capture the light and reflect it back at me.
And so I am illuminated, and day dream comes softly,
Like serene forest poetry,
And I play, running past the tallest tress.
Look up and see a Canopy of Red, glowing from the
Piercing light of the sun.
And I run through the patches of light,
Dashing in out,
Long enough for only a brief moment of warmth,
A swift sweep of heat across my bare back.
And just as swiftly, she emerges into my field of vision,
In a clearing, flowerless, and grassy,
Poised on her toes, upright, as if ready to leap.
Laughing! With a joy on her face that told me she enjoyed the forest too.
And we circle each other, bent into a prowling stance,
Like two cats.
And what seems like moments, passes as hours,
And now under the moonlight, we wrestle,
Hand fighting, eyes feeding on each other, filling each other and living through each other.
Until I land the first nibble, capturing her lower lip, savoring its salty, eerily familiar taste.
And then I catch a pinch of her neck . . .
And then her lips again . . .
And after each blow, she falls increasingly back,
And at the peak of the dance, our graceful combat, time slows.
And she is falling back, and I am with her before she hits the ground.
And then, only then, do we play.
I shudder. I gasp.
I seize up, as if my body wanted to hug itself,
Love itself.
My eyes search: What makes her laugh now?
But the air be between us,
Carrying our thoughts away, so we swim in the eyes,
The eyes are where we play.
Downtown Girl
Rodeo Chick
Left-Hand Legend
Miss soft lips
Really Good at English
Pretty bad at Math
Long List of Ex’s
Miss only adds
Little Lady Shocker
Man Shocker too
Spandex Spooner
Man-Thing Stew
Party Girl
Tons of Fun
Never by her name:
Shannon Strong
Who are you?
It ain’t nothing for a pretty little thing to disappear
Before you even knew she was even there
Every hood has about 100 beautiful Jesus
Dead and gone before you even knew they were there
Ain’t nothing for a bullet to float the wrong way on the wind,
Kill a song before it ever even sang
I say every hood has about 100 beautiful black Marys
and it ain’t nothing for the woman to disappear

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The following captures 7 mornings that do not in fact happen over a week, but rather over the space of 2 months and captures a single morning on each day throughout the length of the 2 month period.

I. Monday Morning

Spank her ass and let her dance
Sex her love passionately determinedly
Fuck her hating her suck her pussy love
till she’s moaning sounding satisfied
shaking relaxed taut anticipating
kisses finishing love making
horny bright and early monday morning

The alarm clock rang out into the room. 8:00am. Negus shifted out of his sleep, reached over and grabbed Kacy’s ass. A request. She brought her ass up into his hand. Consent. Negus spanked her once hard.
“Hmph.” She squeeked. The alarm clock continued to ring incessantly. It went on ignored. Negus quickly slid over Kacy’s resting form, resting on his knees over body. He fell down her back and pulled off her blue laced underwear to her ankles, where Kacy lifted her legs to help them off, opening them in an acute V. The comfort of a routine established in years of time. Negus shifted lower, lying on his belly, positioning his face over her vagina, which was covered in white-transparent discharge. Not at all deterred, he spread her buttcheeks apart and licked up the vulva right up to the crack of her asshole. Negus focused on the clit, his body shaking, and flicked his tongue quickly over it for five minutes.
“Can you do it from the front now?” Kacy asked.
“Yea.” Kacy flipped over, swinging one leg over Negus’s head and the other maneuvering under his knees lay on her back. Negus fell down her body again with his tongue reaching her pussy, sucking the clitoris while flicking across it with his tongue. Kacy began to roll her body, and whipped the covers over Negus’s head covering him from view. She placed both her hands over the blanket and on his head, and wound her waist and vagina into his tongue as he sucked and licked her. Negus knew her eyes were closed. She moaned signalling her pleasure. After about 15 more minutes Kacy’s whole body shook and she laughed as the sensation became a tickle. Knowing the signal, Negus stopped then, coming up through the covers, smiling, and kissing her, her face scrunching up at the taste of her own vagina. She laughed some more, as Negus rolled off of her and she reached over and hit the snooze button. 8:32am. Negus lay next to her and began stroking his penis, and she cuddled up into him as he proceeded to vigorously masturbate with his left hand, holding Kacy’s ass with his right.
“Fuck” said Negus stroking in rhythm. He let out sound after sound, moans, gasps, whimpers, and ahhs, enjoying his own body now. After about 10 minutes, Negus began to shake and he sprayed ejaculate up his chest and arm.
“You done?” asked Kacy.
“Yes.” Said Negus smiling. He rose out of bed to clean the cum off of his body with paper towels.
“You want to shower?” Negus asked
“mhmm” Kacy rose out of bed and borrowed a towel. Negus grabbed his soaps, pastes, shampoos, and conditioners and the two went to the shower together.

II. Tuesday Morning

Dragging out of bed drearily, beating myself up and out,
Rocky and Creed
tumbling inside, slouching on out,
the comfortable blanket
to → the shower and water
caught in the mirror clawing trying to → escape
I leave and I’m crying,
screaming out loud,
down pounding my fist to
the ground disappearing,
now kneeling before the sink
the past of myself,
this mourning
all can hear
No one can help
the inside is out, stuck alone
dressed in
this mourning’s
shabby clothes
out the door
body choking and aching,
arriving to class,
body in faith
who has it straight?
No one afraid.

The alarm clock rang out into the room. 8:00 am. Negus took a few minutes before he opened his eyes to the ringing clock. He rolled over and tried to ignore the sound, and failing, dove his arm out towards his desk to hit snooze on the clock. After 10 minutes the alarm clock went off again, ringing sharply until finally Negus got out of bed to turn it off. 8:22 am. Negus rubbed his eyes, and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked towards his desk at his computer, reached over his chair to open the macbook air. ThC857. The computer unlocked to reveal the porn he had been watching the night before. White men fucking ebony bitch. Cuckold porn.  He sank in his chair, a quick movement of his eyes out and away then back in focused on the screen he closed out the window and checked his facebook. Forget about it. One message.
We need to talk.
Quickly switched to the itunes window and played Notable Alumni Next. We gon’ sell a soul and then she gon pop it for a check. We are wilin’ for a dollar or we’re wilin’ for respect. He reached out widely in both directions stretching his arms, shoulder and back, feeling the groove of his music. Let it out. Leaving his itunes playing he grabbed his towel from the back of his chair and went down the hall to the bathroom.
While Negus was in the shower the room remained empty. The chair sat in front of a desk cluttered with randomly scattered books, paper, cds, headphones, and other various items. The window remained open, and every now and then a wind came through and gently, barely perceivably swayed the shirt that hang on the sprinkler system, and posters that hung on the wall. The fan swept left and right on an arc circulating air in the room. The bed remained unkempt, and a book sat on the bed. Clothes sat scattered across the floor and rug in combinations of clean and unclean. The pocket notebook sat on top of the music textbooks. The high school dance team sweater hang next to the Tommy Hilfiger shirt. The room was to remain like this unobserved until someone came into it again. Sensibly, it would remain like this because I thought it would. Outside of that - don’t know what happens to that room when unobserved.
Negus looked into the mirror, and gave it a face that the mirror gave back. Staring. Feeling. Eyes sank, then opened, the came to rest. Negus then hung his towel on the wall mounted bar, and climbed in the shower. He turned the handle to the right releasing a cold spray that gradually became warmer. He let the water run over him, through his hair, over his face, behind his ears, down his neck and over his chest, down his back and ribs, under his balls, and down his calfs. He stepped arrhythmically as he brought his body into the shower of water at different angles, heating either his chest, stomach, and the front of his legs or back and shoulders. He spat the water salted by sweat out onto the floor, letting some collect in his mouth which he gargled and spit. Water bounced off of Negus’s oily nappy hair, collected in beads on the curls, only just some drops falling deeper and deeper into the tangled fibers beneath.

III. Wednesday Morning

Grabbing rubbing my body, nervous
closing my eyes, dancing to music only I can hear tentative
smiling putting my hands up, never stopping, not caring
loving it, sweating, breathing, tasting my lips, mouth teeth,
spinning, flowing, lost in the sauce

The alarm clock rang out into the room. 8:00 am. What? The room. The warmth of the blanket. The alarm clock continues to ring. Negus turns towards the wall and pulls his blanket up to his ears. Numbing sleep. The continuing ring of the alarm clock. 8:22am. Negus throws off his blanket and rises from bed, walks to the alarm clock, reaches out and brings the switch to off. He plummets on to the ends of a pile of hoodies, and pants that rest on the back of his chair. He turns to his computer and brings it open, bringing also the retina display to life. Thc857. Opening immediately to his Chrome web browser. Facebook. He checks his fb messages. No new messages. Quickly shutting the screen, he gets up, lifting his arms above his head and stretching them out and back in a way ignorant in denial of his reaction to the lack of messages -  then turns to his calendar. Meeting at 10am.
“Whoo!” A shot of blood sugar to the brain, and a return of norepinephrine. Energy. Negus quickly puts his Chinese textbooks, 5 subject notebook, and composition book into his bag. He detaches the magnetic computer charger and places his macbook pro into its black carrying case. Looks at the charger. Don’t need it. Swinging his bag over his shoulder, Negus walks across his rug slipping into his Nikes, out the door, and down the stairs. The room will sit empty. The window closed and looks out to the street below. The door remains slightly ajar. On top of the desk sits various lotions and conditioners, along with the dried white crust of creams that didn’t make it to the dark skin of Negus’s body and fell to dry on the wooden surface. Dust creeps through the fibers of the carpet.
At the base of the stairs.
“Good morning Negus” says Mary.
“Good morning” Negus replies. Negus turns into the kitchen, sun flooding the kitchen with light through three large windows in front of him. Turning to the cabinet at his left he rummages through, goldfish, chips ahoy, almonds, hazelnuts, triscuits, crisps, and chips until he found what he had been looking for. Golden Grahms. Yes.
I’m Negus, boring, touring life in my own story.
Soorry, I’m not perfect, worth it, spend most time working. Priceless. Bound to be lifeless
So living nicely, smiling, high on a bright blue sky. I’m Negus.
into my
cereal bowl.
“Good morning Negus.” Negus stops rapping. Fanny walked past a mug swinging in his hand, hankering for some hot coffee, laughing at Negus’s morning rap.
“Good morning Fanny.” Negus looks at the golden brown squares inside of the white bowl. Scooping his spoon in, lifting it up and then sliding the cereal into his mouth, tasting the cool milk and crunchy, honey flavored cornmeal squares. Finishing the cereal he slurps up the milk.
He stares into the drops of milk, and crumbs of cereal in the bowl for a bit. Gets up and goes to the sink to wash his bowl. He quickly washes the spoon, turns to grab his bag and walks out of the kitchen and left out the door.

IV. Thursday Morning

High, gone, lifted, dead, chillin, smoked out
leaning, bodied, geeked, thinking
hearing voices paranoia programmed,
who is god, i’m gonna die
I don’t remember who you are, I don’t remember where I am
This all seems made up, I’m fucked up, we are trapped in a hellish happening
i am afraid to die, an eternity of nothingness is far too long,
so hold me while i sob into your shoulder stranger

The alarm clock rang out into the room. 8:00 am. A swirling mess of dreams, lights, sheets, and pillows. Voices. Sync up. I’m synced. Get with the program. I’m with the program. It doesn’t make sense to think about the past, Negus, because I know that no matter what happens now the future will be better. The future will be better. 8:22am. The future has arrived. It is not better yet. A particular sensation rises up through the veins in Negus’s leg and into his lower back, stomach, chest, through his heart, and out into his arms, throat and head. Negus moans, letting his hands run down his thighs. Just do it. Negus opens his eyes to look into the ceiling.
times are hard, hard to keep the heart in, harder still to let go of my heart. Its hard in a hole. Climbing up is real hard, hard to grip the surface, the pockets are small and painful, yet they must be grasped, and held onto. The pain won’t last. Climbing up, and up and up and up and UP. Language moves and winds, and too it climbs, up the pockets of the body. Just do it.
Negus climbs out of bed spinning clockwise, bringing his left arm out at the end of the turn to come down on the snooze button on the alarm clock. He reaches over then and turns of the clock. He stops. Puts his hands on his hips and looks around at the room. Things everywhere.
A particular t shirt lay on the rug. Around it on all sides were the short rising gray fibers of the gray rug. The shirt was crumpled, and folded over itself. Above the shirt, at his computer is Negus. Underneath the shirt sat a push pin, and a few fibers of hair. Underneath the fibers dust collected. After Negus left the room the shirt remained.
Negus is now in the shower. He rests his head on the wall, and lets the water run down his back. Get over her. He brings his fist to the wall, striking not with the knuckles, but the the side of his folded pinky finger. He brings himself up and opens his mouth to the shower, letting it collect there. It’ll be ok. Everything is happening and cannot be stopped. Negus climbs out of the shower.
Sitting in Chinese class. Language is a weird thing. Negus hears the words and knows their meaning.
Focused on the paper, the money and the grind. Seldom time, because the pressures on. Pursuing women in thongs. Ain’t nothing wrong, with a little bump and grind. Take my time. Build every letter and rhyme. Climb, out of bed. Hit the clock. No tick tock. Its Digital. Writings original. Feel the Flow.
Professor Dabian explains the topic-comment sentence. Place the topic of the sentence at the beginning of the sentence followed by the verb.

V. Friday Morning

I love myself, fucked myself,
sweet perversion like licking ice cream off of bodies,
I am all still,
blood warm, heart pumping, low pulse,
slow breaths, in, out
sensation through my heart into my head, lobe to lobe to lobe to lobe
where it hurts, and becomes a tightness in my ass and a sensation on my dick
traveling up and
becoming salivating, tightening, warmth everywhere,
feeling pleasure, dope, redness, hands,
kisses, hugs, baths, sand, dreams, nightmares, visions, inspiration, freedom
determination passion, righteous hate

VI. Saturday Morning

I slept and wake
to → bright sun through open window, a new day, for new feelings
Out of bed, wanting breakfast, wanting food
Calendar empty, slow walk, check computer, sitting, listening
feeling, the fall wind comes through the window, the noises of other bodies living
are with me, clean the room today, have time, alone forever with blood and brain
and organ, and flesh, and hormones, neurons, and neurotransmitters
nervous eyes rest on a death far out
down the stairs into the hell of the world
to see what the devilish now has to offer my body

The alarm clock rang out into the room. 8:00 am. Negus opens his eyes to a bright room and turns to lay on his back to look up into the day lit room . The light reminds him of the summer, of warmth, of mornings, and breakfast, and freshness. A new day. He let the alarm clock ring, closing his eyes. Negus lay in his room, in his dorm house, within the town of Ancheng, which sat on the eastern coast, of the United States, a country in the North American continent, of the Planet earth, a single planet in a solar system, amidst millions of other systems in the Milky Way Galaxy, the galaxy itself amidst millions of other galaxies. Negus lay there in his bed in all he knew, thinking only of the coming day of productivity, freedom and relaxation, and all outside of him and his senses happened outside of his awareness, and insignificant of the happenings of his own body. Negus climbs out of bed, and went to his computer and typed in his password. Thc857. Google Chrome Browser. The browser has many tabs open. Negus checks his facebook messages. One new message:
Negus, stop this. We need to talk.
He lets out a whimper. Why haven’t my friends messaged me. Status update:
Good morning everyone! :) I hope everyone has a productive and wonderful Saturday <3.
Negus then sent Hera a message, ignoring the message he had received from Kacy.:
Good morning!
He means now to contact his friends and keep consistent in contact, driven by a need for comfort and safety. Negus cleans his room. He picks up each piece of clothing and those pieces of clothing that need washing go into the laundry bag and those pieces of clothing that are alright get folded into piles on his bed. He throws away stray paper, and organizes his desk. He takes his laundry bag downstairs and puts a load into the wash. He opens his room window to let in the cool autumn air. Negus then sprayed Febreze onto his carpet, and into the stream of air pushes out by the fan, letting the air distribute the spray throughout the room. For the next 10 minutes Negus kept himself busy cleaning his room in that way that allowed absentmindedness, and thoughtless action. He avoids the growing tension in his chest and stomach. After all cleaning is done, he sits finally down in the chair in front of his desk, and looks about. The room is clean. He looks to his computer. He rubs his chest and belly, his face is in a pout. Negus turns away from his desk and gets back in bed, curling up under the covers, closing his eyes to the sights, and sounds the Fall morning.

VII. Sunday Morning

Sadly, calm now fades into the anxious future and the unreal God holds me in invisible hands
rocking me gently into the bed and blanket folds of Sunday morning.
A Voice comes from within urging me into peace, safety, pleasure and love.
My security in death’s waiting hands as I rise out of bed dancing to music only I can hear
My books rest open to receive my mind and soul into their pages where I am told
I will be in sentences today and tomorrow and thereafter
And so I remember that love’s hands wait in front of now
before is behind me on my shoulders pushing me to cook myself a breakfast I deserve
cherishing the flavors of eggs, spinach, mushrooms, tomatoes, potatoes and peppers
I have tasted in breakfast what it is to wake up, have,
in sleeping, to lose,
seen in mornings what it is to fall,
rise, run, sleep,
wake up again, through days to dance
and through nights to
rest, eat, hope, and feel,
learning in time that to live is to kiss the past week goodbye
and head happy into Sunday Mourning

Sunday morning. Negus wakes up to his 8 oclock alarm, and after letting in rings, turns it off. He climbs out of bed into a clean room, and goes to his desk and sits before his computer. He checks his facebook, and sees the message from Kacy demanding that they talk. He responds.
Ok. Lets talk later. Can we talk around 4pm?
He takes off his clothes, and showers, and dresses. He heads out of his dorm and arrives at work at the Center for Diverse Affects. He does office work and homework, and takes a break to eat lunch. He dances to get some excercise and returns to the Center. He chats with friends, and naps on the center’s couches. He wakes up. 4:03pm.
Negus sits up and stretches. Soon after he awakes he grabs his macbook from the table and brings it over to where he sits. He is the only one in the center now. Thc857. The desktop of his macintosh laptop. One new skype notification. He opens the skype window. A message from Kacy.
Negus responds:
Hey. Can you talk?
After a few mintues.
Hi. Yea. Call me.
Negus makes the call. Kacy answers her face popping up on the screen after a few hours.. Negus, despite himself, smiles.
“How have you been?”
“I’ve been good. Really good”
Who knows who said which? Take a guess, make a choice.

I'm scared, I'm honestly so scared. I see what is happening to myself, and the world around me, and I don't know if I'm doing it right. I don't know the world is doing it right. In my head I can come up with a every different alternative to every move, I can see a 10 problems with every news headline. I grew up thinking I was a genius, and have seen myself do too many stupid things to believe it anymore. I saw the world as just waiting to become a heaven on Earth, and I fear most places are closer to hell. Every single thing I do is important; it's important because it has consequences. I choose who I want to be in the world. Last year and the summer felt like the end of a good dream, and this year feels like heartbreak. And I feel like its all important.

I feel lonely.

I feel trapped.

I want the consequences of my life, as an end result to be positive. All these thoughts and feelings surround me everywhere I go, a whole world, like an echo of the chaos of the world we live in. I have an ego that wants to hold the whole world in the crux of its arm. I have heart that skips a beat for every passing face. I feel so PRIVILEGED, and so useless. I feel like the result of a massive sigh, building up all this air inside of me all my life, filling myself up for some big thing, only to realize that I can't hold on to it all, and letting it all out in one large anti-climatic deflation. And then I don't care.

And I remember that no one cares. Or very few do. And I want to care. But I care too much.

And so I write.

And speak.

And laugh. And sing. And dance. And produce. And cry. And scream. I run through the sanctuary, to the park down the roads, and back to where I started.

At school. And there I learn. And when I graduate I'll still be learning. And I remember every time I messed up. And every time I got it right. And when I look back I bet it all won't seem as big as it seems now.

But, for now it seems big. SO, I'm going to stop moping and moaning and do some homework! I'm going to learn to speak Chinese, play the piano, produce a song, write a book, start business. AND CHANGE THE WORLD.

Even if it means I only inspire the person who someday will. :)


WavAngel's Profile Picture
Kali Robinson
Artist | Student | Varied
United States
I dance. I write.
Twitter @KwakuzHaremz

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Add a Comment:
DylanSeto Featured By Owner Dec 28, 2015  Student Artist

Just wanted to thank you for the fave!

Also, since I'm currently focusing on music, I was wondering if you'd be interested in listening/sharing my music?

If you are, I can link you to where you can find that stuff!

-Dylan Seto
WavAngel Featured By Owner Jan 8, 2016  Student General Artist
np!:D (Big Grin)  and sure link me!
DylanSeto Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2016  Student Artist


Let me know what you think :)

And if you like it, sharing it would be cool too. ;)
LaceyCheshireGrin Featured By Owner Nov 17, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
THX 4 THE FAV!! :woohoo: :hug: :iconiamhappyplz:
WavAngel Featured By Owner Dec 26, 2015  Student General Artist
LaceyCheshireGrin Featured By Owner Jan 8, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thx again :iconweeeplz:
WavAngel Featured By Owner Jan 8, 2016  Student General Artist
:D (Big Grin) !
(1 Reply)
LaceyCheshireGrin Featured By Owner Sep 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
THX 4 THE FAV!! :woohoo: :hug: :iconiamhappyplz:
DamaiMikaz Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Tnx for the fav :la:
LaceyCheshireGrin Featured By Owner Jun 2, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
THX 4 THE LLAMA!!!: woohoo: :hug: :iconiamhappyplz:
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