Multi Genre Lyricist looking for MCs and vocalists and beats for a 17 track album


New Member
Hi everyone, I'm new to poetry but I think I'm getting better with each attempt.

I don't want to be a performer and have no musical talent so I am going to require the assistance of some talented people to get my words put to music, which is my ultimate goal.

I have had 5 poems published so far. They can be found on my website: under the heading 'all poems.'

I have just started my first project (this week) and the details of it can be found under the heading 'my project' on the website. The Project

Producers, I am looking for beats from any genre of music. My preferences are hip-hop and hard-house/techno but I like everything. Please send beats, as many as you want but please indicate which poems they are intended for. They can't be leased exclusively to anyone else or I don't want them.

Vocalists/MCs, ideally, please perform one or two of the poems you like best (five maximum) with music and without music. Please feel free to pick any beat. If you struggle to find one you like, just send a vocal or you could choose an instrumental version of one of the songs on my 'inspiration/links' page. If you know a producer or produce yourself, please attempt a finished track.

I'm also looking for lyricists that can write a chorus. You can contact me through my site if you want to.

If I make any money out of this project, (and you help) so will you. The terms can be found under 'my project' on my website.

I hope you enjoy Awake?, an example of my work. Please give me feedback.

Thanks to anyone who shows an interest. Nearly all my poems are structured like this but the topics vary (slightly). If you have any questions about the project please ask.

by Dave K

Wake up mid morning, shed the quilt, start to make some tea, take a second to embrace the tranquillity, before the kettle starts to bubble, stare out the frosty window, feel humble,
as I contemplate the complexities of nature and simultaneously discard them, my window frame a postcard of them,
sent special delivery when I need it most, making it out of the blackness of night, my brain, dreams, a host, for all manner of debauchery, uncontrollable elements torture me,
destroying the poetic, annoying, septic,
midnight intrusions, a colourless collage of my life, fusions,
of the grim, the mundane, weighing my dreams down like a ball and chain,
spirit shackling, tightening as I try to escape, feel like the prey of a constrictor snake,
each breath getting shorter as life slowly coils, encasing me, once fluid like water, now stationary,
stagnant, a muddying pool on a derelict wasteland, can't stop the toxic infusions, unable to stand, submerged beneath highly viscous solutions,
that smother vision and acoustics, the Nirvana Album cover, drained to a few drips,
left cold and shivering, a foetal self embrace, powerless, a passenger in a fatal car chase,
life flashing by in an instant, unable to influence my trajectory, my wailing mind persistently dissecting me,
a motionless body on a surgical table, every fear connected by cable,
transmitted telepathically, acted out at night graphically,
exaggerated to the extreme, floral fields manipulated, imposing, mean,
colour drained to blacks, greys, endure attacks in waves and waves,
my imagination opposing me, caustic thoughts corroding me,
whilst I'm sleeping, innocuously they creep in,
and I become immersed, demons summoned by a mosquito thirst,
for my AB negative, the only positive thought: my weed smoke sedative,
awaiting my awakening, instant exhilaration, my dark side, sent on vacation,
left to burn on hot sands, a calmness descends as a rhythm commands,
begins to alter my being, channel 0137, a blue TV screen,
radio 1xtra, accompanying the kettle boiling, bolt upright, no longer coiling,
humbled by my pitiful existence, a renewal, can feel all systems,
reinvigorating to maximum potential, nature, weed, music, tea, sequential,
in their influence on my morning ascension, my bedroom my facility for correction,
no longer imprisoned by everything I see, freed, the world slowed down to my own speed,
colours vibrant, beyond comprehension, like life's a new invention,
I've been given to explore, Billie Jean lights on my bedroom floor,
follow me as I progress to the exterior, every move I make feels superior,
guided by a inexplicable force, a droplet of water at the river's source,
about to float to the ocean , journeying through the day without commotion,
elongating every positive experience until the next approaches, grievances discarded like roaches,
strewn and forgotten, left in my wake, anything toxic or rotten, able to make,
exquisitely exquisite, with a little imagination, a continuation of positive thought, enabling me to illicit the positive from every retort,
slur or abrasion, everything bleak seems amazing,
through my psychedelically synchronised senses, chemically harmonised adventures,
into reality and fiction, no longer restrained, that nightly affliction,
dissolved in the early morning mist, I feel absolved as demons resist,
remain subverted, my state of mind converted,
by my morning regiment, everything negative, irrelevant,
as I begin to revel, inhibition dishevel,
motion, momentum, increasing, a world ahead of me I know I'll find peace in,
move towards it with fervour, I'm glad the darks are dark, it gives an appreciation of colour,
life's highs, can't wait to stop dreaming, need to open my eyes.... (...look out of the window, make a cup of tea, have a smoke and listen to some tunes)