MCB QUANTICO, Va. –Derek Meitzer has been stepping into battle since he was in high school. He didn’t fight his enemies in dusty, Middle Eastern towns, but during rap battles in school hallways and parking lots of Cleveland. Bearing “D’Meitz” as his nom de guerre, Meitzer threw hooks and verses instead of hooks and jabs.

Meitzer,“This is how I remember it, whether or not it actually occurred is up for debate,” said Meitzer, “I was listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers, ‘I don’t wanna ever feel like I did that day,’ that song, and my sister came in, she opened up the cassette player, popped in the tape…put in Salt ‘N Pepa and hit play.”….

Read More @ Quantico Sentry – D’Meitz

we’re walking graves, our saving grace
we know the way armageddon goes
we’re the talking dead, our saving grace
we speak in riddle we speak in poem

Freak of nature i’m a Judas i’m among the students
and the scholars of the parlors and the gardens of forgotten
and the confines of the common man are awful and rotten
and the packages and slabs of meat
and baggage and cracks in seats
and packs of people and tragedies
and drag the needle, and drag the needle and drag the needle and
don’t drag your feet
and purity and insecurity are so close
and purity and insecurity are so close
and i’m closer
and i’m closer
for the people that tore the steeple down
that burn the building that burn the church
and we’re all fleeting a bit disturbed
a bit of victims a pinch of earth
a pinch of salt and a pincher
a pair of needles
a pair of needles
a pair of eyes
i’m paralyzed
with the fear of a vengeful god
and with the tears of a vengeful god
and with the fear of a vengeful god
and with the fear of a temple lost
and i’m lost in ego, caught between those
awkward people that are so see-through
and are so eager to often please you
and drop the needle and drop the needle and drop the needle and
drop the needle in
drop

we’re walking graves, our saving grace
we know the way armageddon goes
we’re the talking dead, our saving grace
we speak in riddle we speak in poem

i’m a shell of a man, my round is spent
i’m intelligent and, so down to earth
i’m a poor excuse for drinking
a poor excuse for wine
a good time to be had
by all those aligned
by all those benign
by all those malign
by all those that i’m
forfeit

accounts closed, people far
away from here
the balance remains, a bit bizarre
get away from here

Make it out there for some great tunes off the upcoming project, working title – “Poison Apples”

Free entry – all ages and buy drinks (cause the more you drink the better I sound, YURP)

Friday March 19 – 10PM at Sidewalk Cafe at 94 Avenue A near 6th St. in East Village
Saturday March 20 – 1130PM at Hibachi Tiki Hut at 890 Broadway Ave in Brooklyn

Here’s the first episode with my friend Rachel.

If I had to bury my self, today where would I lie?
Hopefully alone with no one else to cry.
Please don’t shed any tears for me; those I don’t deserve.
Don’t celebrate my being; act as if I never were.
For when I bury my self on the day before I die,
I’ll dig my grave in a riverbed, long since gone to dry.
Baked in unforgiving sun, where waters rarely rise,
I’ll bury me in cracking earth deep enough to hide.
And when the waters return, for surely as they’ll leave,
It’ll wash away the memories, what few you’ve had of me.

Also, shout out to Jean Bean for big uppin D’Meitz in DaDopeness.blogspot.com - thanks for the support

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