The Repeat Beat Poet

Biography

The Repeat Beat Poet AKA Peter deGraft-Johnson (PJ) is a regular modern day renaissance man. PJ is a journalist, student, tea-drinker, lyricist, artist, and hip-hop enthusiast. After hitting open mics across London since 2013, PJ started performing as The Repeat Beat Poet, with the Typeface Poetry Collective. His poetry speaks for his positions on the world, from politics and passion to emceeing and the very reasons to be. His love for rap and poetry, from Lauryn Hill to Ginsberg, shows in his delivery, charged with soulful intention and rhythm.

Samples

http://howlingonthebeat.tumblr.com/post/135479392650/the-whole-damn-system-is-guilty-as-hell-a#135479392650 "The Whole. Damn. System. Is Guilty. As. Hell" (A Black View) I woke up to another set of terrorist threats revealing some seriously questionable mindsets, Convinced me I might have to grab a bulletproof vest before taking my next test, And to avoid challenging jokes, (not even in jest) And not to speak too loud, it’s dangerous to protest, Just be happily repressed and under constant duress, It’s always best to express caution, While the world outside is storming While praying for a peaceful dawning, While we’re baying for that one fine morning, To the sky I found myself calling, If I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, would it be my family mourning? Would it be my body in the casket laid, and would it prove worthy of adoring? If my blood was still gently pouring out, As I was laying in the street, dead meat splayed out, And my mouth open wide like I’m yawning, Would that image succeed in being flooring enough? Would that portrait leave onlookers dumbstruck? Could it serve as a black boy’s warning? “I’m sorry, the system wasn’t built for you” Send your complaints to whoever’s not ignoring. And if the injustice is still gnawing away, Bottle up your righteous rage for a rainy day, You’ll need it when vulgarities come your way, Through trials and pain, you’ll feel what to say, As these words are sealed neatly in a coffin, And as the last light draws in, I’ll think of the state of things, Of biting winters and mirages of spring, And of sins.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.