Growing old with Hip Hop

I wrote this piece back in 2013, and in light of hip hop’s 50th anniversary celebration this weekend, I believe this poem resonates fittingly. Enjoy!

Born with this music
Hip hop
Fatherless soul
Hip hop was my guide
It showed me the breaks
Which I lived
Auditory
No videos and magazines
Well, there was…….
Underground
Suppressed like the segregated south
Trying to gain musical civil rights
Breakthrough
Run DMC
Elementary Rhymes
Which to this day, are parts of me
Still there was no money
I learned the meaning of philosophy
Through BDP
When dancing earned respect
And DJ’s didn’t yell there names
Promoting themselves the whole night
Stopping the violence
Was a mission
Fashion was….
Gold
Suede
Leather
Bombers
Sheep skins
And FOR REAL
Most of us fought
Hand to hand

As I age
Hip hop I still breathe
I lived through the changes
Its common sense
I think I love her
Well???
It’s a love hate thing
Cause I love the music
But I hate the game
Sex and violence
Yeah Kris knew it
The art form is gone
Hip hop
Now has the root of all evil
It all about the Benjamin’s
And the Benz
The ice
The twenty’s
And how many men you can kill
How much drugs you can sell
How much money you have in the bank
How big your gun is
Now
You can buy your self I spot in hip hop
Beauty can be seen through the eyes of the poor as well as the rich
A sunset
A mountain top
Snow falling
The culture of hip hop is poor
And hip hop is rich now
We are dying trying to
BE
RICH
It sells
However
Look back
Better explained this way
Michael Jordan
Old school hip hop
Lebron James
New school
King James is nice
But……
He will never be AIR JORDAN
I miss hip hop.

By Wakime Sharri Hauser

Thank you for reading