A friend told me (unbelievably) that they still don't think 'Ye is a good rapper and is really mainly a producer. In case there are two other people in the world that hold this patently false and mistaken belief, I have taken the poetic liberty of translating 'Ye's verse on Clique into a Robert Frost poem. I don't really know how that relates but I've already spent several minutes doing it so here it is. All lyrics mine except the lines that are Mr. West's.
Break records at Louis, ate breakfast at Gucci
Her love is like the soft light of a familiar home.
Pleasantries are given, unpatriotic though they may seem.
The events of Paris are never far from mind.
George; a sight that brings a new memory, soon to linger.
A question; perhaps one asked like two weary travelers.
You know white people.
...
My neighbor T.C., though trials set upon him
Retains the sobriety of a man well kept.
On a summer's day, a drink recalls a winter's night
Everything I do need a news crew's presence
....
The sun beats upon my skin but cannot change it.
I am reminded of the arc of civilizations.
And confronted with our modern exuberance.
But I just wanna design hotels and nail it.
...
Shit is real. From one point on our globe to another
As that self-same as resides in two distinct but equally beautiful women.
...
A dark storm overtakes me; I shall not succumb, though it beckons my demise.
I doubt my own speech ("What kinda talk is that?")
Conversing with God, I turn my gaze inward.
And see that he has already answered me.
F*ckin with my clique.
Sources (like a good scholarly article):
http://rapgenius.com/Kanye-west-clique-lyrics
http://allpoetry.com/Robert_Frost
No comments:
Post a Comment