Changing Opinions on Miss Nicki Minaj #FoodForThought

This is a video that a friend introduced me that blew me away!! Poet Jasmine Mans shows audiences a different perspective to take when contemplating the character that is, Nicki Minaj. I have to attach the lyrics so readers can fully grasp the lyrical truth Miss Mans is presenting. I also want to post an article from Miss Minaj herself (via Vibe), who seems to be lost in a world of confusion and characters and who also fully understands her place to be....unknown. So, is it at all possible to compare the likes of Nick Minaj to that of Lauryn Hill??? I actually say yes only because of the fact that both of these women at some point in their career lost themselves. It is my prayer that just as Lauryn has, Nicki realizes the puppetry games and searches for something more, ultimately herself, Miss Onika Maraj.

///////LYRICS///////

By Jasmine Mans

You are being traded paper in exchange for you to be plastic

All Dolls will eventually mal-function

(I don't even know why you girls bother at this point like give it up, it 's me I win you lose)

Nicki MInaj,

(It's me)

I must admit

(Its, its me)

I have always been intrigued by your ass,

I guess that's what the world looked like after falling from your shoulders.

(Like give it up)

You have the heartbeat of a suicide bomber

A baseline breathing out of your pulse

Your thighs play storage for the weight of the world

I dreamed that you used to back packed, the lost raps, of Female MCs who could not find their way out the cipher

(Its just like I singlehandedly annihilated like every rape b**ch in the building)

Traded in your crown for unsharpened pencils and blank CDs

(Like give it up)

Do you ever feel a cord gripping on your neck, choke, spit?

Don't let this industry f**k the Assata out of you

(Harijuku-Barbie)

Can and will never be code for queen

You are a Queen no matter how many times they try to shuffle you back in tape decks.

Bi Sex, straight, you've earned my respect

(You da Bestest)

But I know your spine binds and crooked lines

And you can't seem to write a rhyme for your broken daughters

Slaughter, bent over back, ass cracked, b***h slapped, in videos

There is nothing pedal bike pretty about broken

Do you know what this media is trying to do to you?

They will porcelain

(Barbie)

Doll the s**tout of you

Leave you noose necked hanging from Zion they will Lauryn Hill you

The mis-education of a Barbie doll coming soon

(I just had an epiphany)

Barbie, I think NYC is making you forget you come from Queens

Its scary when you have wack MCs trying to ghost write your obituary

(You should buy a 16 cuz I write it good)

Your existence is not recyclable to me

(Barbie)

Stop spitting me toy stories

Of Woodys and Buzzlight Years who only come alive when no body is watching

Fake breast

Once upon a time before puberty and tissue filled training bras all little girls wanted a toy chest

What do you treasure? *

You have turned your G-spot into a land-mind

Dirty, disgusting

We have been waiting centuries for a woman like you to carve your stiletto in history

This microphone is not a dildo so you are going to have to cum a little harder than that,

(I, win, I win, you lose)

Come a little harder for rap

Too many women before you have laid down tracks -- UNIT...Y?

So you wouldn't have to record your on your back

Spit some s**tit for girls who kiss girls and got beat down to their backs

We will remember you for that

Lips sync your screams and remember your inflections and copyright your raps

MC

(Barbie)

For young money anyone can buy themselves their own ( I'm Nick Minaj, Nicki Lewinski, Nicki Barbie, the boss)

Crown, Vagina, Womanhood, and Talent,

All Sold separately

(Barbie)

You are being stabbed in the back

Inserted with a wind up string and a tag?

(R, R, R, Roger that)

Advertising At Its Best!

So...I came across an unusually creative advertisement for Nike. I found it bold and daring yet surprisingly meek and truthful. Women are forced daily to examine and magnify flaws built on awkwardly biased standards. I hate to sound cliche but it cannot be said enough: If you don't love yourself first, you will never be able to fully accept the love of another. #FoodForThought #ThatsAll

Dear Simplicity...

Blank Canvas

I’m trying to figure out where exactly I belong

In this puzzle of confusion

With pieces that don’t fit

And empty holes only caressed by the breeze

I’m silent and hopeful

Loud and regretful

Because I feel like I should be saying so much more

And you’re ultimately missing out on my reality

Which includes only you and I and a journey known to no one

But this us

So lets pretend that the situation wasn’t so complicated

And the darkness was just a shadow over the sun for a moment

I crave you with every fiber of my all

But my outreached hand is only appeased with words of maybes and far off possibilities

Allow me to understand what mystifies and clouds my perception

For my reception seems to have lost any signal of detection

Heartbeats and messy sheets drenched with the moisture of beautifully painful rain

Must I be the victim of this fortress hidden covered and under what I pretend to not be there

Can’t help but notice the shards of disappointment and dissatisfaction that are written on your body

Let me erase and rewrite but everyone knows erasers never get the job completely done

So imma tag me over every inch

With every stroke and color reviving and revitalizing a canvas never meant for just pencil

Deserving of only the most beautiful colors with the most gentle brush

Intricately designing and remodeling that which should have never been touched by the last amateur artist

My Monet style blends and Picasso type sweeping tickles and teases the spots that had been long forgotten by the latter

Clearly my intentions are true and my heart genuine

Understand that I would have never opened my spirit if I was not willing to share it completely

Once again I must then state

I am here…now what are you going to do??

Love Part II

Sometimes you see things from far off in the distance. As in your staring at a collision bound to occur yet the fear and panic of the moment prevents any sudden or preventive movement. Secretly you also anticipate the excitement of what exactly is next and what will be the final scene. This scene is before my eyes and I am looking at myself and this someone else. Colliding into an infatuation without reciprocation yet I cannot stop. My emotions seem to exceed a sound mind and I fall victim to the perils of a pool filled with words that I imagine could be said. After letting what was once an all-encompassing love go, I settle within the midst of a shallow substance--lacking that in which it is named. Substance. How could I really be that into someone that I barely know? Am I really the permeable membrane? Must I continue to occupy my existence with a pretend love to only mask my desire to be swept away in it? Then again, it may be possible that I speak to soon. The idea of there being a possibility to what I have already stamped impossible awaits in the distance. Accepting that I am me, and that love is what I do. How could I belittle my emotions to a simple infatuation when within me lies the complex subjugations of nerves intertwined to culminate something so unique and pure. There is no other love such as mine. Once enveloped, I survive from the spark in your eye and a smile that emits sun-like rays that flow through my spirit. Constricted respiration is only freed when I am near you.

Then again, this is too soon. You know not I, and I only know what you've shown to me. Before I fold back within myself awaiting to be awaken by the scent of another again, I see you. I stare and look within. This not love. Of course it isn't yet. But I understand that to be perfectly okay, because within this fictional body I understand. It is that I am in love with love and thus I survive and thrive. Aren't you happy that you could be the subject of my moment for the moment? Enjoy...

Untitled

Daily I float between confident portrayals of an immortal essence

Emitting rays of magical stardust like emotion

To loneliness drowning in the catacomb drudgery

of a pitiful existence

Sometimes my spirit overflows with the bounty of a treasure

unknown to anyone else but I

But within that treasure lies infinite gardens

Nourishing my all with abounding beauty and peace

To be blessed with such an overwhelming serenity

leaves me only to imagine an atonement unbeknownst that I must be indebted to by the stars

Then in those moments of utter darkness

I am encased by shadows haunting a past filled with

Occurrences unspeakable

Those instances when falling short would have been

something reached for

When my head permanently rested below the eyes of the horizon

And I hid in the confines of the blackness of an eclipse

Never again do I plan on returning

Yet the possibility of all

both left and right

up and down

dark and light

lies before me

Seeking truth in words and hope in peace

Wanting to be cloaked in the power of understanding and enlightenment

That in which I seek is within the frame of what I imagine

Thus attainable and indelible

I know better, so in that I must do

Love Pt. 1

I believe that there is a purpose for everything that occurs in life. This includes the people you meet, the relationships developed and the consequent reality that is created from these occurrences. It is funny that no matter how hard you may try to direct your life, the universe has its own way of distorting and reshaping whatever you may have believed to be real and true. I hate to always bring it back to love but since God is love, it ultimately is the beginning and the end of everything. So with that being said, I try to interrogate deeply what I see and feel love to be. The feelings that I posses towards someone in particular baffle all logical reasoning possible. Factually speaking, even the notion of letting go is impossible at this point. I discuss with my friends how I could never fall back for this person and how stupid I would be to ever even contemplate the notion of loving them again. I speak with confidence and a hint of arrogance in order to convince them that my words are concrete. But to myself, I cry. I don't know the exact reason I cry, but I do. If no one is around to see the tear fall, did it ever really exist? I say no, with hopes of refuting the idea of being trapped within the confines of loving that person. But in reality, it actually fell--more than once.

So now, I must face this predicament that seems to be inescapable. I am rejoicing and at the same time hurting. I am entangled in a web of words unsaid. I want so bad for them to share and know that I am here and how I have been here and how it looks as though I will never leave. Pathetically written, yet proudly spoken. I am in love with their love. As many times as I have tried to combat that statement with empty phrases of strength--I am weak. Their words make me melt and their seemingly genuine intentions penetrate the depths of my heart. I am lost within the maze of an unexpected heart gone mad. There are so many things I must say, because this state of utter helplessness in completely unacceptable, yet the peace of the moment won't allow me to interrupt.

Observation as an unbiased spectator would leave me sympathetic. Fortunately, this is my moment. I am here living, breathing, experiencing this, you and us. I both love and hate this love, yet I am captivated by possibility. I am living guarded but loving freely. Bystanders may have dream deferring advice but I am listening inaudibly because they are not within this. As I find my way I am making mistakes yet learning slowly. And I understand all of this to be okay, because reality is created daily so why can't I assist in the process?