"No," the two replied and Zeke stepped forward, "If I'm gonna rhyme, I need a beat. One that don't retire 'cause Ma's making Rice-A-Roni with real cheese - and the chili ground meat. I need a DJ who spins 1010 WINS and don't give up over no crayon, man. Here comes the judge and I'm the lawyer. He Huck Finn and I'm Tom Sawyer. If you believe in Flash, then I do, too."
Monday, July 24, 2017
Wednesday, June 28, 2017
''I am a wanderer, I do not belong here, I do not belong in Paris... I am a wanderer, I belong to the wide wide world...''
''If you want me to stay, you'll have to cut off my feet!''
''We may meet again, after all everything that goes around comes around.''
Friday, November 18, 2016
By the North Gate, the wind blows full of sand,
Lonely from the beginning of time until now!
Trees fall, the grass goes yellow with autumn.
I climb the towers and towers
to watch out the barbarous land:
Desolate castle, the sky, the wide desert.
There is no wall left to this village.
Bones white with a thousand frosts,
High heaps, covered with trees and grass;
Who brought this to pass?
Who has brought the flaming imperial anger?
Who has brought the army with drums and with kettle-drums?
A gracious spring, turned to blood-ravenous autumn,
A turmoil of wars-men, spread over the middle kingdom,
Three hundred and sixty thousand,
And sorrow, sorrow like rain.
Sorrow to go, and sorrow, sorrow returning,
Desolate, desolate fields,
And no children of warfare upon them,
No longer the men for offence and defence.
Ah, how shall you know the dreary sorrow at the North Gate,
With Rihoku's name forgotten,
And we guardsmen fed to the tigers.By Rihaku
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
|Cover of our novel, Nobody But You|
|Vic Mensa's letter on vicmensa.com|
Saturday, August 27, 2016
Monday, April 18, 2016
"(...) Although her father had told her of the nature of the one who waited for her, she could not control an instinctual shudder of fear when she saw him, for a lion is a lion and a man is a man and, though lions are more beautiful by far than we are, yet they belong to a different order of beauty and, besides, they have no respect for us: why should they? Yet wild things have a far more rational fear of us than in ours of them, and some kind of sadness in his agate eyes, that looked almost blind, as if sick of sight, moved her heart (...)"