Prison house for the soul
[My] hunger and thirst was, and still remains: How do I get people who hate poetry to love me?
I would have to say that I’m haunted. I’m haunted by everything that drives me. I want to do great work. I need to do great work. I won’t be satisfied unless I do great work.
For the last 15 years that I have been performing, all I ever wanted to do was transcend poetry to the world. See, it wasn't enough for me to write a book. It wasn't enough for me to join a slam competition, and while those things hold weight, it wasn't the driving force that pushes the pen to the pad.
Music is a big influence in my work and sometimes drives the energy of where I want to go.
No one touches me when I write my story, unless I hire you to or I allow you to.
I don't know, I think that if I had any regrets, that would cancel out the great people that I have in my life. All the tough stuff that I've gone through that I don't wish on no one else has brought a beautiful community to me.
You I am sure will forgive me for sincerely remarking that you might curb your magnanimity and be more of an artist, and 'load every rift' of your subject with ore.
To create the world cost God nothing; to save it from sin cost His Life Blood.
To test a perfect theory with imperfect instruments did not impress the Greek philosophers as a valid way to gain knowledge.
You can always get better. Nobody can stop you from getting better, and nobody can stop you from trying to make something right.