”Hellllllooooo! You can call me Mock or Mak whichever resonates with you most. I go by the name Mockuhmenace musically and M. with my poetry. I am word obsessive and love the concept of creation and power behind them. I have a bad habit of spliff smoking and think about stopping everyday, but I haven’t. I’m in love with a jazzy soul that sings like she walks – a show stopper. I’ve never seen anything like the innovation and freedom they work with at Menace Port, to be apart of such a movement in the 20th century feels world and life changing. All and all I hope to build a platform for my creativity with the family we have here and I am more then elated to Port into the Mind of a Menace while tugging on my own.”
“Stand for something or fall for anything”Unknown
Art by Mock
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Mock is a uniquely creative mind that dominates every category xe partakes in. From music and photography to writing and poetry, you can see how passionate this artist is about words. Mock released xer’s first EP last year called ‘The Renaissance’. This was a powerful introduction to the world for sure. Click the link below to indulge. Mock also is perfecting the craft of freestyling. This dates back to original hip hop and is the true badge of an amazing spitter. Mockuhmenace will have another album dropping this year so stay tuned for that as well! Look above for Mocks current release!Menace Port
A Gift from the Word Smith
Imma keep crying and screaming with empathy in my voice y’all niggas gone keep repeating dangerous repertoires movements aligned with Jezebels and Judas’s never hoisting your frequency to higher levels.
Fellow peers tune into this wave for it’s the one to surf.
Through murky waters we tread spitting profusely.
Feet long calloused over with blisters. They bled. I swang through ya mind on veins colored like vines.
Beating on my chest a soulful beat With bass bang and spirit
and when I reached the vineyard the aroma of sage and grapes entered myBrain.
Suddenly vivid memories of a seductive sultress seducing me in a garden called Eden rushed back to me.
She wore a mini skirt green,
velvet. And a top so skimpy it was easy to skip past the
the fact that she had it white crop top no bra.
Nipples perkily greeted me.
Stiletto sat stacked with a heel so long she coulda been a pole winder.
I opened my eyes wider and as she got closer I noticed the immense
height she possessed this beauty stood over me
Stood over 93 feet it’s skin the color of almond seeds.m and coco beans.
Each step she took the sea shook
the waves rushed
the wind picked up
with each breath
she puffed and the light
glowing around her was brighter than the sun.
Naturally I shielded my eyes and turned to run. Somehow without movement she grabbed me up and
When I uncovered my eyes I sat in the psalm of her hand stuck like quicksand.
With every movement I felt Myself slip deeper, couldn’t blink, could barely breath all I could see was her.
A blemish free freckled face with eyes so kind like cotton trace but piercing like needles.
Her nose was of perfect shape to complement her cheekbones high and strong with teeth whiter than mountain snow,
a God was trying to show off.
She stared at me in a way that said do not fear but the superiority in her stature was enough to spook me. So I sat anxiously.
Suddenly she startled me
and threw her head back
and began to cry and wail
and tears as big as pools began to fall.
With loud thuds they hit the pavement.
And as she picked up I soon was drowned in a salty sea of agony that felt as though it was penetrating me.
As I floated in the giant’s hand I began to feel a familiar feeling of getting high times a million, I lost consciousness.
I reappeared in a world I didn’t recognize
gloomy and grey there were
dead bodies on curbs
while children nonchalantly
played in the street.
A new scene i stand in darkness
I heard the clanking of chains
I felt the misery
the pain, loneliness and shame. Blink.
Blue clouds and
screams as a mother
cries holding a
I’m behind a tree
all I hear is gunshots
a pod of troops
rushed by and BOOM a
Poverty dirt floor
no kin. big sis
8 years old
cooks breakfast. Blink.
Suicidal thoughts by the hundreds
Million deaths in
my ear in
seconds. Blink. Blink. Blink.
Scene for scene.
Grasping for breath
and frolicking about
I suddenly awoke on the ground
completely dry with no
Goddess in sight. Blink.
Back at the vineyard.
Back to smelling the grapes.
Back to screaming with empathy laced in my voice.