Jason Murak

Everyday, I wake up, have to go wash dishes
I feel like work ties me down from chasing my wildest wishes
But if I cant provide for myself, Ill end up sleeping with the fishes
I just feel like im working to live...Now get this
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Dangerous Person with a pistol in hand
These feelings for you, I had never planned
I cannot see your eyes, but I still know
Your looking at me from My head to my toe
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Pencil, pen, charcoal, graphite, i can use whatever utencil
I want to write ' rhymes so slick'
I could write a lymric in skilcraft or a sonnet with bic
And if you want to learn how come close, Ill show ya
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Time sits still when you want it to pass
Tic-Toc goes the seconds, Re-united at last
But this Time, I felt like the clock was against me
It didnt want this to happen
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Contemplations of Conversations
But Ive got Verbal Constipation
Should I ask your favorite color
Or ask about your Hobbies and Occupation
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The Goldon Lion shining off the street sign
Car light reflection of my star bright affection
It blinds as it comes back to my eye
It blinds my sight, but my heart puts me in the right direction
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You cant just sit back, kick back, Waiting for some get back
If you want Knowledge, grab it
Dont expect it to be given to you
And dont just ask someone else either
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This is kind of suppose to be a rap type thing. Its not that good but I just post whatever I write


Bring me up, up, away Let me touch the skies
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A quick freewrite from English Class today


His colors clash, shadow of a faint mustache
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Waiting, for eons it seemed
I was fantic, this moment didnt play out how I dreamed
Quick, painless
But right now, Im brainless
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Your tears are like rain drops
falling on my shoulder
Id like to use an umbrella of comfort to cover you
We walk, stepping on our shadows
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Some say Im a master-mind
Way ahead of my time
I can take any single word and come out with a rhyme
By design, I thought that that'd be fine
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Woe is me, Woe is me,
The common term used to express distraught
I feel so alone, this lesson, my daddy never taught
I wont let myself call it 'wasted time'
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I promised I wouldnt write anymore about this
As soon as I made that statement, I truly did doubt this
Acted as if i took it lightly, on the surface
On the inside, I was truly nervous
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I know a little about a little bit, making me the minority,
Yet we together, are the majority
How can this be if we have no authority
They say majority rules,
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I started writing poetry, because I couldnt sing
and when a good lyricist cant sing, He will raps
And if he doesnt sound gangster enough, Or he's white,
He's a poet, He's me
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When I see an empty page in my book
I think of its potential, and take another look
Could it be the one that steals your heart, a love crook
Or could it be a story of loneliness, describing whats took
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I take life as it comes, work through each little section
so im gonna take this time to make an eternal reflection
I've been thinking on the events, and upon further inspection
Ive come across something of which i need to make an objection
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The love poets sit and write psalms or
songs with the extension of their palms
they sit and wait untill they catch a glimpse of you
Because girls like you are the inspiration
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Ive fallen in love with a girl who sits near me in class
Beautiful Eyes of hazel, skin as smooth as a fresh pane of glass
I look across the lunch room and,
I wonder if you ever look at me too
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