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muMs is an award-winning New York City based Poet and a member of the Labyrinth Theater Company.


muMs the Schemer ===> Schemer: fiend, foe, friend, fear, /swallower of your fear, /blasphemer, /dreamer…. /to hold, to have, to be in a condition akin to, to victory he prevails! /A mathematical or philosophical diagram representing the astrological aspects of the planets, emotions and intellect on scales, /teller of your tale /in a letha-phorical outline, /a concise examination crafty and secretive in sign, /a systematic and organized chaotic plot. /I am muMs the schemer and you, are not. ===> The first ‘m’ is lower-cased /concerned with race /and small manipulative matters of that sort: /the things in our face /that bleed into our heart. /The ‘u’- also small- leads me to look to the sky, walk there the edge of a shore equating to particles of sand, stars, the moon. To be under all that which is bigger than me lead’s to the second ‘M’ capitalized for the manipulation /of that that from which all shall begin /and again /from when /we least expect. /The ‘S’ is the trick: the hush of it all. /The control over what we discuss, beckon or call /or plural to represent the many that know /or just that the path is a windy road? /No matter, it also is small. ===> muMs, the schemer and echo-er of it all.

welcome to a new day --goRealer

Friday, April 29, 2011

A muMs the Schemer retrospective --LAST CAR, pre1997

I peeped that nigga out the corner of my eye at first 
I know he saw me seeing him 
something in his eyeball said fear and I can sense that you know 
he made his way to the other end of the platform so it seemed 
but in the last car cant nobody hear you scream 
I made my way 3 2 last car 
there was a hint of izm in the air sharpened my senses 
and the angle I had on him now he knew his end was near 
I’m on him timberlands first 
let you teeth hit the bench like these blows came down from the universe 
two handed cranium joints I’m giving and some lefts past the dolex 
make a nigga wonder what’s gonna happen next
What he done did
Why this nigga doing me
Why this nigga high nooning me
And the passengers in the car they just ignored
As I put on the hurting
Boom boom boom It seemed like each blow was working
My ferouciuosness was animalistic
Percise in execution
Im thinking kill kill kill
And all this nigga could do is yell chill
Take that for perpetuating negative types in stereo form
For putting potholes in my lawn
For having no rhyme skills
For having no rhyme skills
You wish you could go to Sam Ash and cop some rhyme skills
There ain’t no manual
So Im a hand you all these
Floats and stings like butter flies and bees
Bear witness to this punishment
Your suffering shall be immence
For not giving a fuck for indifference
Damn I hate you for that the most
For treating my sister like a ho
Why I aughta snuff you right here
Put two in ya like they did my man dwayne
For being more that what he was
He caught two in the brain
And I know you to blame
Hell I know you the reason
Well ima be the trial judge and jury and you going
Up for treason
Run your goose
Run your gortext
Run your egotistical
rhetericol, non lyrical 
I got you in the hem
Haymakers is making you spit blood and plhegm
And the nine he always talks about
He can’t even get to
What happened to your motherfucking nine I say
what happened to your motherfucking nine you bitch
as his lips taste my timberlands
I’m whaling on him now from one side of the car to the next
And the passengers can’t hear see or smell your fear
Cause in the last car can’t nobody hear you scream or even care

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