This weekend was pretty simple. Friday, showed face @ a cipher in the punchout at Howard. Was mad funny because I sorta had to politic to get on the list. Ole girl was on some, one poem no profanity, let me explain the rules type stuff. I wanted to be arrogant and approach her like, “Damn shorty, I’m one of the reason’s there is poetry on this campus!”, which would be arrogant, but true in a sense. However, I’m not an arrogant cat. Shit, me and Drew, along with a couple other heads (Falona, Zenobia, etc.) were the cipher a lot of times. No audience! Just us, spittin…hard! The cipher was cool, but in all honesty, I clowned around for most of it because I hadn’t eaten really that day and I was trying to keep myself from falling the fuck out! Kom and Drew captivated as always. Those cats are really talented. Went to the comic book shop and copped a couple must have’s. Put Wolverine 2-4 on hold, as those are utter classics. Trying to figure out what the hell I was smoking to not have put Woldverine #1 on hold when I had the chance. Spent some time with my mother, nephew and step-father on Saturday. Mom’s baked cookies…dangerous business. My mom puts Betty Crocker to shame off the baking tip, man. Whew!
Sunday was on some lift some weights because I’ve been slackin since my neck had been botherin’ me, clean house, do laundry, change the furnace filter, play GTA type stuff. Really laid back. Speakin of which, that review will be available on illpoets.com, so check it out when ya can!
I’m out!

PS- Here’s another unseen ditty from the files of Lee the Poet

Faithful


You were there from square one for him
You ran to his side when others would run from him
Even when moms unknowingly started to wear him a little thin
With you,
He never had to pretend
So that’s why right now,
You feel he
Has to make amends
Hurt by this pain
Thinking foolishly that this is the one thing that’d stay the same
That this love, unlike all the others
Would never change
Feeling clueless
Knowing someone must have, but not sure who did
You still did things like cook
He
Stopped saying thank you
You,
Continued to try new things in bed
While he
Stopped returning favors
You, seeking your own gratification
Increased the compliments
Although to you it makes no sense
It seems as if he,
Stopped paying attention
So I don’t need to mention,
This is why you are in my bed at 12:00am
But I will
Looking up at me like I’m the best thing since sliced bread when I’m cuttin’ you
But please don’t get it confused,
Although we are cool, I am not loving you
You see, I,
Am an opportunist
A performance artist who’s passionate about being passionate
And the actions that were once reserved for him
You gave to me freely
And since we were already attracted to each other
Me getting you here is easy
And keepin’ you here,
Ain’t hard
And keeping you coming back for more
Is like my second job
See I have a damn fine catch without any of the catches
And you’re so busy fucking him through me
We perform gymnastics on my mattress
The fact is
All three of us are actors
Not knowing our roles and the repercussive factors
So self absorbed in the sadness of our own madness that nothing else matters
Even though he has caused you stress
Maybe even made you depressed
He
Has never gone to anyone but you
For sex
(Well, maybe himself)
Maybe he,
is stressed out because he’s taken on a second job to keep taking you to those nice dinners you used to love
Maybe you
Don’t care who loves you as long as they do it the way you want it
Maybe you think him loving you can be gauged by the way he fucks you
And I,
Do that like he used to
Maybe I,
Feel that relationships aren’t useful
So I take all the pros and avoid the cons
Maybe you are trying to hurt him with actions he’ll never know about because you’ll never tell him
All because you don’t want him to be jealous
You just want him to feel it,
Like you do
That detached and too- tired- to- make- love, love
Not knowing he
Already does so, although he may not win any awards
And over the years has uncovered a lot of unseen bull
He has always been true and about you
And you,
Were unfaithful

How ya doin’. Abstract De La Soul reference. What’s up folks. Yeah I know, "You ain’t shit Lee.". I have been a bit negligent when it comes to this journal. I’ll explain my position:
While I know longer consider myself in the grip of writer’s block, I still haven’t been writing poetry on a “regular” basis, so I really don’t feel like writing as much as I normally would. Also, I have a lot going on because I’m trying to organize what the hell I want to accomplish this calendar year, which is a lot, believe me. On top of that, I do sometimes honestly forget because I’m not in the habit I used to be in of writing in this bad boy anymore. Part of that is because I’m going to be completely revamping Lee the Poet.com, as I did illpoets.com; so, while this site is in limbo (sorta), I probably won’t write in the journal as much. But, once it has that brand new car smell again, I’ll probably find my old ways of writing about absolutely nothing in my classicly humorous way.
The site is scheduled to be done by early March, although, it could be done sooner depending upon when I start. Also, the site is much smaller than illpoets.com, so it’ll be easier to retool and revamp. So, for the next month, the links to poetry and other stuff on this site may or may not work. However, I’ll do something I don’t normally do…I’ll share some of the poems that never got read @ ciphers because most of the times they were incomplete, or they started well but drifted on a tangent, or I just didn’t feel them. Feel free to let me know what you think. The first "un-done" poem is—

I: the Seventh Sign

Many individuals claim the number seven, as do I
However my claim is not due to abstract mathematic reference or likening myself to the Second Coming of Christ
So please
Allow me to clarify
I was conceived on the 2nd of December
7 weeks into my mothers belly the doctors tell her she may not have me
Ruptured cyst on her ovaries made the odds of me making it 30%
70% chance I wouldn’t be here before you
I implore you to stay tuned
Eradicating the Roman calendar by eliminating the months of Julius and Augustus
The month after June I bloomed
And fell well within the cusp of the seventh month,
Lying underneath the seventh sign
I’m a Virgo
So although in your mind it takes nine
I traveled to this level of existence in seven months time
Born on the seventh day (Saturday), the tenth of SEPT-tember ‘77
Raised from the womb at 8:06
Eight plus four equating to fourteen which is a multiple of seven
Still some people think I’m being irreverent with this number 7
And even though I’m no numerologist
If one were to add 9- 10- 1977
9 + 1 +1 would equal 11 + 9 + 7 & 7= 34
3 + 4=7
Coincidence?
Maybe it is and maybe it’s not.
Perhaps the master provided this key for me to undo this lock
Cause even master locks can have forgotten combinations if you lose your concentration
“Master’s locks will be picked by no man
Indeed you will be freed if you have these keys
Willingness to succeed and faith in me is all you need
I died for you child it’s for you I bleed
You reap my sacrifice every time you breathe”
7 years
7 months
7 days
7 hours
7 minutes
7 seconds
7 ways for me to journey
To finish where I started and start where I finished
It chose me as much as I chose it
Divine wisdom
Before I even began to understand how little I understood God
I chose this number never wondering why it never even felt odd

I am the cosmic season of sleep
Knowing all summers must fall
Too young am I for hieroglyphics to draw on pyramid walls
So I scribe my wisdom inside bathroom stalls

Yeah..so, for those who truly know me, I really feel strongly about the number seven. However, a lot of cats on the scene seemed to be latching onto that number. As a response, I started writing this joint which I really dig on some levels, but feel it went on tangents at points. I started to have a block as I was writing it, as you see by the break and then the last four lines which didn’t quite fit. I was going to write until I found a way to make them fit together (which happens sometimes when I create poems on a computer), but I didn’t want to force any words that weren’t ready to be penned yet—so I took a break from this particular piece. I never finished it because a fellow poet by the name of King Cipher developed a clothing line called The Seventh Sign clothing, which killed the concept for me. Didn’t want anybody to think I was riding somebody elses coat tails on that subject, so I let the poem “die" so to speak, although I still had it copy written.
Anyway, I’ll holla.

(...this entry was started on Wednesday and finished today...)

Okay, for those who dont know…Im a huge Washington Sports fan, especially the Wizards and the Redskins. Now, I missed the game last night, but how did we score 120 points the other day and still get blown out?! That just doesnt sound right. If anyone I know taped the game, holla at me please, I have to see that game for real. 120 to 137, they were ballin last night. We woulda spanked that ass if Larry Hughes was in the lineup, though.
Now, I missed the game because I had to show face at the illpoets.com feature @ Mangos. The joint was gansta. Droopy, 13, Mood, Myself, Femi, Black Picasso & Kom wrecked it! You had to be there. Sekou the Misfit showed up to spit, too. That joint was gangsta. Saw two former students while @ Mangos, both of whom were in my poetry club…that shit was gangsta. Saw King…err Kuroji…errr, Vincent Patrick. Didns expect to see him, but something told me to bring my poem Baggage Check, which he pretty much inspired anyway. Gangsta.

So, between game reviews, book reviews, prepping featured artists through the month of April, launching The Dri Fish on illpoets.com, new Sound Committee topics, preparing to build a web template for a local shop I frequent as well as leethepoet.com, trying to line up some features to better market the dope ass illpoets.com CD, and oh yeah…work, I’ve been kinda mentally preoccupied. Got a lot planned for this year, just have to continue to use this month to organize how, when and where it’s done.
I’m finding it funny that I’m actually writing rhymes again. Not like on a regular basis, or consistently for that matter. Nonetheless, I am definitely writing structured rhymes. Every once in a while, them joints are actually hot. But rarely. See, I don’t really criticize my poems unless I force myself to write, as I believe that I said what was meant o be said how it needed to be said in that particular moment. However, I can’t ever remember having a moment like that when it came to writing rhymes.. It’s rare that I can have the attention span to write a solid eight to sixteen bars in one sitting, but I can write a two page poem if the mood hits me without even trying. Thing is, I’m hyper critical of my rhymes, so even dope rhymes never make it to paper because I don’t feel they’re worthy of being written. Truly, I’ve written a lot of dope lines that sound hot in my head, or sound hot when I said them, but to see them on paper—sometimes I’m like, “What the hell was I thinking?”
So, if I ever come out the mouth and say a rhyme was hot, and there are other people that can hear it, then either it’s ridiculously hot, or I havee no proper way of knowing when I’m wack lyrically speaking. So either way, the verse is probably ridiculous. Other thing is, I randomly freestyle in my head, so some material does sound hot as a freestyle, but to write it down…it just doesn’t need to go that far.
Heard Ludacris’ LP last night, or most of it, rather. Sounded pretty dope. The joint with Trick Daddy sounded like a Geto Boys song, hell, Trick sounded a little like Face from back in the day. The Austin Powers intro Luda blazed is pretty ridiculous, and the one about people asking for money was really well crafted. The dude has definitely grown artistically, as he actually has a rare social message thrown in the mix, a la the track with Trick. Trick Daddy…sounds like it’d be an alternative group or something.
………………………………………
PS- I just had to pay $600+ for a front end brake job on my truck.
The Positive Side- the escrow refund I received a while back covered the cost
The Negative Side- I had to pay $600+ for a front end brake job on my truck.
SHeesh.

Gotta try to shake off '04
Yeah, I was going to make this a rhyme, but I'm not no more (couldn't resist)
So anyway, I've made my preliminary plans for 2005. Still have to draw some things up, but at least I'm putting a game plan together, as oppossed to winging it. How does a new book, an EP and an all new version of leethepoet.com sound to ya'll? Well, just a few things I want to knock out in 2005. The book would be the most trying, only because I have to have the right material, and enough of it to fit the theme I have in mind. We'll see...I'm looking toward mid-year for the book release.
Aside from that, I'm working on some new material for illpoets.com. New game, book, and music reviews. I already have featured artists lined up through April, and I will probably roll out some small galleries for individuals poets on the site. On top of all that, gotta increase the marketing strategem for the current All Seasons project; The joint has gotten extremely wonderful responses, but I have to step up the marketing and promotion of the project to give it more of a draw. If you have copped it, please go to the site and do a review for it at CDBaby.com if you don't mind. Big ups to Delrica for already doping so. Oh, we're featuring at Mangos (off of 14th and U streets NW--across from the Reeve Center)in Washington DC on January 18, 2005 @ 8pm. Come through if you're in the area.
More soon.