Free The Dead Emcee Scrolls by Saul Williams Page A

oneself the rhyme patterns are easily decipherable, quite often complex, and seem to cover many distinct styles of emceeing. The complexity of the rhyme patterns of certain chapters seems to correlate to the complexity of the subject matter. Yet, the content of a recited piece, even of great complexity, is much more easily digestible through the use of rhyme and rhythmic patterns.
    It has been a great temptation of mine either to footnote or to write a complete companion piece to these seven poems. Yet, I believe that there is more insight to be found by sharing it with as many as possible and allowing people to discover their own references and viewpoints. My opinions on the text and on hip-hop are my own. I can claim no true authority over the art form or the varied voices of our generation. I am one of many. It has been my intention to share these words in their written form for the sake of accomplishing what I have believed to be my personal responsibility since finding them. Regardless of how they reach you, one thing remains clear: Whether hip-hop is the offspring of the streets or a seed planted by ancient African shamans whose foresight allowed them to plant seeds in the hearts and minds of a stolen people, only to blossom four generations after slavery for the sake of expressing the highest ideas of freedom, it’s ours, or in the words of T-La Rock, it’s yours.

PART 2
SEVEN MOUNTAINS:
JOURNAL EXCERPTS 1994–2001

1994
    These are, perhaps, some of the greatest moments of my life. I have “been led” or “fallen into” or “happened upon” a series of events, revelations, insights that have brought on some of the most intense feelings and experiences I have ever had. My overall search has been effortful, but these newly acquired insights, sensibilities, and thoughts have been effortless steps toward a greater state of awareness. These past few days I have had several awkward or mystical occurrences, which were almost immediately confirmed as “real” or “valid” in a later moment.
    I have been led to adopt new beliefs, which seem to be a prerequisite to existing beyond the mirror. I am very sure that there is much to be experienced beyond the mirrors of this physical realm. By “beyond” I mean seeing past an image or through, within, or behind it. Yet, also seeing it as it is. And I mean “is” in the fullest sense. I am both blessed and burdened. Now that I know, or am at the beginning of knowing, I must act or be eternally un …

    I was born today.
    Just now.
    Just now.
    Just now.
    Just now.
    Just now.

    Mixed emotion
    Contrived commotion
    Natural struggle
    Lead-filled sacks
    On non-burdened backs
    Finding the time to love
    In the midst of chaos
    It birthed us, nourishes us
    We live in it and for it
    If we were free
    We’d fight for the freedom
    To recreate it.
    Who’s your master?
    Your dreams of disaster
    Nightmares of freedom
    Fantasies of fantasies
    Which you claim we have no time for
    Because we’re being choked?
    Well, what if time ceased to be time?
    How would that affect your tomorrows of freedom?
    Where would that leave us, today?
    Would you then find the time to inhale and exhale
    And wear those hands around your neck
    As a necklace, accessorizing your
    Newfound suit of
    Mixed emotion
    Contrived commotion …
    â€¦ infinity

    How can I escape this cycle?
    Must I turn with the world
    In the direction it dictates?
    Am I the wind’s slave?

    As instruments come to life with breath
    The wind sends my high notes
    To indigo communions
    With Coltrane’s Favorite Things
    This is my body, which is given for you
    This is my blood which is shed for you
    My love, like the wind, uncaged,
    Blows time into timeless whirlpools
    Transfiguring fear and all of its subordinates
    (possession, fear, jealousy)
    into crumbling dried leaves
    My love is the winds slave
    and, thus, is free
    my love is the wind that is shaped
    as it