Plain Fruit, in Strange Trees

Southern trees bear strange fruit,

The street in bare scars, open from bullwhips
broken in a million pieces they wear like riches
on dusty finger tips while the winter spits their tar;
across coughing shivers of naked children
the echoes fell below the lonely reverberation
created by the stutter of a mothers neck breaking
-just before her eyes formed a basin
for her only son to huddle in it's basement:
with her pupils still shaking-
she was ripe for the taking.

Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.

Blood weaves away a fork tongued leaf,
raised on the lungs from one tree of snakes
-dangling rotten rinds by the plot of white scars
the coughs hung in the blind clot of a night's heart
that wore like poor cuffs on a short spun sleeve,
the tree called bark-
as the last full leafs fall along the rattle snakes,
and the eve is raped as she kicks those feet
-a final give all to stall the bite marks
from a heart of broken teeth.

The dim old rooms bloom a thorn chest surface
with a surgeons thimble glued to the symbols muse
-they've plucked the dust and stripped the fruits
that bled justice on a gutless tread of filth full boots
that sipped the juices yet suggest it's worthless
-as the burning smiles perch when the serpents
twist the last full apple stems into a noose.

Pastoral scene of the gallant south,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.

As the vines slip their lips around a single smile
the teeth split on bloody gums from the window while
the seeds drip from simple eyes
of symbol chimes and bulging cries from rusty guns,
fired into the blue as the clouds crash down from the sky
and land beside the nimble roots
to plant a tree of blood and sage to place the fruits
that pass as strange in the bloom of neon logs
and a lonely whittled noose
that grows off the tree planted at the feet standing
beside the bleeding man without a single sigh.

The empty smiles corrode below the soldier
of endings where miles of roads burn
in crop circle, under the vultures dropped machete-
at the levy's clot tossing piles of sober
for the sun to sip up and spit like confetti,
among a field of steel and five thumbed clovers
-peeling rusted land mines and blindfolds over
swollen eyelids, the sky readies
for crying.

Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.

http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/show...nt-332032.html
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/show...ed-316176.html

This was very nice Atti my man. I enjoyed it. We discussed slightly on AIM my viewpoints but this does deserve a reply.

The imagery and description was excellent. I give you props on that category. Some of it was just sickening. I've seen you do better but that aspect didn't disappoint at all.

The flow wasn't traditional to hip hop. the rhyme scheme was sort of unique but i found that sometimes i completely lost it. I'm not sure if maybe you just have a unique style or the rhyme scheme is simply secondary to your actual content. Either way. IMO it wasn't practical for being spit over a beat.

Sometimes you lost me. I found it a lil wordy at points. Like you could have said the exact same thing but done it was so much less and expanded on the overall topic with the unused space.

"Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.

Blood weaves away a fork tongued leaf,"

The transition you used was dope on that whole segment. I wish you would have kept it up.

Overall this piece is prolly better then the vast majority of stuff dropped on RB. Props man. I enjoyed it.

this was a dop epiece atti..this was original and very untouched and very strange and just deeply deeply into it with your vibe that you were rocking aswell as it being done nicely with words man.. i was actually in this piece man.. i liked your wording the best especially with your scheme and your own vocab and creativity...it was a nice read dude....

The street in bare scars, open from bullwhips
broken in a million pieces they wear like riches
on dusty finger tips while the winter spits their tar;
across coughing shivers of naked children
the echoes fell below the lonely reverberation
created by the stutter of a mothers neck breaking
-just before her eyes formed a basin
for her only son to huddle in it's basement:
with her pupils still shaking-
she was ripe for the taking.
^^
that was a nice opener real good read and it was just really a nice sense of creativity using the line you intro'd with ya know...

Blood weaves away a fork tongued leaf,
raised on the lungs from one tree of snakes
-dangling rotten rinds by the plot of white scars
the coughs hung in the blind clot of a night's heart
that wore like poor cuffs on a short spun sleeve,
the tree called bark-
as the last full leafs fall along the rattle snakes,
and the eve is raped as she kicks those feet
-a final give all to stall the bite marks
from a heart of broken teeth.
^^
the imagery in here was just sickening man real guly and shit...it was top notch..dude i loved this section...

The empty smiles corrode below the soldier
of endings where miles of roads burn
in crop circle, under the vultures dropped machete-
at the levy's clot tossing piles of sober
for the sun to sip up and spit like confetti,
among a field of steel and five thumbed clovers
-peeling rusted land mines and blindfolds over
swollen eyelids, the sky readies
for crying.

Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
^^
then the ending dude...it was just grabbing me and shaking me man...really i loved this whole piece atti i was in haven with this cus it was just unique and very original man...nice shit dude...big ups man.....HOF.

This was pretty cool man. I have always loved this song, and the original poem. I have recieved tons of insperation from the song prior to me ever reading the peom. Then one day I ran across the original text and thought wow. I've written to this topic a few times myself, the very last being a tribute to Billie Holiday, who in my mind immortilized the the thing.

You splashed the original works around with your own, and that created a real cool transition for me in the read. Everytime you described soemthing, you came back to parts of the poem/song, well thought out. Your description was good, and you captured the hurt well. I guess many on RB don't know this is a take on an existing Poem and song, since many of the members here are far to young to have ever come across it. Dope way to bring back the classics in a modern form.


The one I dropped here included the audio of the song, I figured it's a good way to get people to listen to things they normally wouldn't.

I really think that is a dope thing to do.


nice read man!

Wow Atticus.......I really like this piece.....Unique in every bit of it's own way! Imagery was vivid, not horrific or gruesome, but realistic! Wording was amazing....Took a second to catch the rhyme scheme, but after awhile it comes to you.....THis is one of the most beautiful Pieces I think I've ever seen....Storyline is so realistic....I am going to vote this for OMHOF......Seriously....WOW!!!

First off, now i understand it - there is so much more content to enjoy.

"The street in bare scars, open from bullwhips
broken in a million pieces they wear like riches"

Quite a straight forward opening. 'Scars' to me, in the context, could be thought of as memories, or in some ways emotions. They are open from bullwhips, brought back to the person by repeat pain, and oppression.
'Broken in a million pieces', could this be the persons mind? The persons heart? Or simply their integrity. Their sense of self security and right to an identity. Although, in a million pieces, there will be room for all 5 to be shattered.
I'm not sure what to make of 'wear as riches'. Who wears the pieces as riches? To me, this could be either the oppressed, or the oppressor. I'm going to go with oppressor, as i feel that 'riches' indicates their sense of achievements. Also, in the lyrics you have integrated, 'blood on the leaves' carries the same meaning as your riches line; illustrating the dirt done at the hands of the white people.

Throughout the rest of the poem, as well as the interchanging between the lyrics and your stanzas, there seems to be an on going smoothness. I am guessing it's down to your delicate rhymes that kind of pop up here and there, and it takes a quite diverse pattern of reading to be able to pick it up.

The way you have constructed the lines to describe the deaths, and the images and scenes distributed evenly along the length of the piece, is awesome. Not only that, but it's also great the way you grab the imagination, both with your descriptions and the 'mystery' that i explained to you over AIM.

It was a brilliant piece mate, i'm just sorry i'm not in the right state of mind to completely indulge myself in it, as i'd love to!

I've tried like i said i would. Hope it's sufficient, and thanks for pointing me in the right direction :thumbup:
Drop some lines on one of my poems if you find the time man. Well done, keep it up!

Okay, simple break down to start off with; This piece was a very effective tribute to the pain of the black south, Plus it did justice to good ol' billy.
Every time i listen to that song it sends a cold shiver down my spine. This piece half took me there... not quite like billy, but still had the effect of sadness upon me... the point is, this is not just a poem about death, these are real happenings... and the images that are cunjured when the words of both billys song and your words here are very much real... Nothing exadurated, nothing spoken out of place. That makes a piece like this an automatic audience winner, as it takes you to a place of reality. I thought it was an interesting topic to choose, and to tell you the truth i wouldn't have put my money on you being able to sucessfully carry it out as you did. Merely for the fact i know your style is more abstract... but you managed to keep the abstract effect to a minimum in this piece, which really gave the cold feeling to the piece... And for a piece like this, it's almost a nessasity. On to more technical matters, the transitions between quotes and verses really worked well, almost seemless, the only thing i would say, is personally it seemed a little bit of a harsh change in the first stanza to second... it almost seemed as if something had been missed out, like it wasnt complete... But apart from that, it was damn near perfection. As for your metaphors, as always they are extremely powerful and vivid... it set the emotion of the piece perfectly, which in turn brought the imagery to life... but especially as while reading and writing this feed i am listening to strange fruit haha... In the song the last word sang 'crop' gets me... it's almost like that little part at the end just moves me to almost tears... and the same applied here... the swollen eyelids part got me. Not sure if that was intentinal to the fact that the end of the song is extremely powerful, and that showed in your voice change... the tone stepped up a notch in the last stanza... which weather deliberate or not, made me shiver in the same way. Okay now the real feed, verse by verse.

The street in bare scars, open from bullwhips
broken in a million pieces they wear like riches
on dusty finger tips while the winter spits their tar;
across coughing shivers of naked children
the echoes fell below the lonely reverberation
created by the stutter of a mothers neck breaking
-just before her eyes formed a basin
for her only son to huddle in it's basement:
with her pupils still shaking-
she was ripe for the taking.
This was an eary beggining, also i found it well placed that to start of with you reached straight to the heart by bringing a mother and child into the equation... which is always a good start to break a disaster or horrific happening into a powerful start. The line 'pupils still shaking' was a great line, yet i almost got the feeling it was more aimed at the preassure on the head area when being hung... like the feeling of your eye balls popping out, then again it also could have been crying for her child being killed, which is probably more likely, but i wanted to read a little deeper into that line as i loved it so much. Yet in saying that, the previous lines would suggest her child wasnt killed, in fact he was just sitting in his mothers tears, well not literally, but in the metaphorical sense, which is equally as beautiful in effect. In this stanza you concertrated more on the physical imagery, rather than the senses... Yet i think that was a very nice way of opening, as it strikes a shock factor. But real nice start here man, caught my attention from the opening line.

Blood weaves away a fork tongued leaf,
raised on the lungs from one tree of snakes
-dangling rotten rinds by the plot of white scars
the coughs hung in the blind clot of a night's heart
that wore like poor cuffs on a short spun sleeve,
the tree called bark-
as the last full leafs fall along the rattle snakes,
and the eve is raped as she kicks those feet
-a final give all to stall the bite marks
from a heart of broken teeth.
This stanza started off beautifully on the imagery front, the fork leaf really set a vivid picture in my mind of the blood dripping down the vines of the tree, although the second line threw me off a little, it seemed a little too eary, therfor standing out as forced in my opinion. i believe you should have made the second line a little more humble after the power of the first, but i guess that's more to do with preferance than anything else really. The 'eve' part and the snake referance i believe was to do with the religion of the black south people being oppressed. But that kicking feet part was really really quite vivid in the sense that the image you painted with that line stood out to me the most in the piece so far. Well on the imagery front anyway.

The dim old rooms bloom a thorn chest surface
with a surgeons thimble glued to the symbols muse
-they've plucked the dust and stripped the fruits
that bled justice on a gutless tread of filth full boots
that sipped the juices yet suggest it's worthless
-as the burning smiles perch when the serpents
twist the last full apple stems into a noose.
Single handedly my favorite stanza, the way you captured a literal sense of the people being fruit was very very well placed... every single referance to the people burning and hanging was really based around the physical attire of fruit. Excellant. I was actually really impressed with how well the juice line came out, that kind of line has been used alot for various different imagery setting... making the blood out to be juice... But i must say you brought it to life. I wasnt too sure about you actually mentioning the noose... personally i would have kept it without directly mentioning that. Plus you seem to use 'noose' alot in your pieces, but fortunately this was a piece where it was actually worthy of using the word. But i think that is something to think about when coming down to word choice. Although by using the apple stem, then bringing it onto the noose part i think you got away with it...just! That last line was actually a change in tone, which i thought was a fairly interesting place to strike into a tone change... it went from mellow, to almost vicious and angry. then converted back to mellow again, then again maybe that was just the way i was reading it, and the emotion i got from the lines.

As the vines slip their lips around a single smile
the teeth split on bloody gums from the window while
the seeds drip from simple eyes
of symbol chimes and bulging cries from rusty guns,
fired into the blue as the clouds crash down from the sky
and land beside the nimble roots
to plant a tree of blood and sage to place the fruits
that pass as strange in the bloom of neon logs
and a lonely whittled noose
that grows off the tree planted at the feet standing
beside the bleeding man without a single sigh.
The vines being personified as lips was a nice addition, and a very good way to convay the message. Then the graphic violence of the teeth splitting once again switched it up a notch, back to an angry tone; Yet the 'simple eyes' almost seemed like sarcasm to me... like you were saying that the perseption of black people is that they are simple and not as good as whites... which if so, really added a nice little touch that people wouldnt really pick up on too much with out a detailed read such as mine; I liked the repetition of the word 'single' it made you feel very iscolated, well made me feel that way for the people you speak of... i gave the impression of loneliness in their deaths, which ofcourse they would have been.

The empty smiles corrode below the soldier
of endings where miles of roads burn
in crop circle, under the vultures dropped machete-
at the levy's clot tossing piles of sober
for the sun to sip up and spit like confetti,
among a field of steel and five thumbed clovers
-peeling rusted land mines and blindfolds over
swollen eyelids, the sky readies
for crying.
Nice touch down stanza here man, it broadened the view of the masses of people that died... with the miles of road burnng part, it gave the sense that everywhere you looked there was people hanging... it painted the picture of almost hell on earth. Which although a subtle comment hit me pretty hard. The peeling rusted land mines part really hit aswell, i believe this was more a comment towards decaying bodies laying on the ground being picked at by animals. And as you already know, the very last lines stood out to me the most in the whole piece, as personally it coensided with the effect the actual song has on me when it comes to the last lines. All i can really say is, that was a dope finsih man, seriously.

Final notes:
Pretty damn amazing man, as i said, i didn't think you could do it, but i guess you are pretty damn versatile dude. As final notes go, i'll bring up rhyme scheme; this rhyme scheme was difficult to get into at the start as its not the classic (conventional) rhyme schemes... but after a few lines it becoma clear to my mind where the rhyme was taking me and which way you wanted me to read... and where abouts the pauses in the rhyme scheme were. So a minor set back for a few lines, but nothing big atall. Either way, this is my favorite piece by you, hence the reason i have bothered to spend an hour on your long haired, jesus look alike mother fucking ass. tehe... But on the real, great stuff here man... Hope this feed keeps you happy!

^you're not getting that much from me lol

This dude was fucking great man. I was (as you know) confused when I saw what the piece was titled, because I thought it was supposed to be strange fruit and shit. But all the confusion went away when I started reading. Your imagery in this piece was off the hook man for real, you have a way of describing things that I envy, I haven't seen anyone do it like you do. Your metaphors were as usual very very impressive, there were some real strokes of genius in there dude for real. I liked the way you mixed the original with your own writing, it made it that little bit more interesting. Very poetic style you decided to take her dude, more so than most OMs I have seen from you before. This was a very nice piece dude, and I really enjoyed the read. I'll nominate it if someone hasn't already done so.

Well man to keep it short, i thought the way you weaved your imagery was incredible. You displayed a highly developed abillity to illustrate detail through good word choice. I, unlike Bounce before me, don't know the song/poem this was based off of so I may I may have overlooked more nuances then i liked but i thought this was really impactful even without grasping every layer of your topic. Nicely done man, 1luv.

thanks a lot everyone.

http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/show...ss-334058.html
^^
could you hit that homie

i can

Atti I remember you from Rv.
Still dropping dope peices i see.
So this was some real original stuff.
I really liked how you started of your Open mic.
I can really captured the inner emotion and the imagery that you place on this OM. What I really like which was the best of your OM was the end. I liked how the rhyme scheme went and this told a lot of what your OM is.
So keep droppin atti..
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/show...er-340434.html
Id aprecciate a feedback from a vet/established writer.