19: An Artist's Prayer by Celita
An Artist’s Prayer
Keep me off the stage
Off the place where I perform
Above the norm
Where I’m acting out for a crowd
To keep them screamin’ real loud
Where I’m soaking in the praise
Soaking in the rays
With their hands raised
May their hands wave
Where I’m puffed up with pride
Headed to an empty grave
Where attention is my king
And I am it’s slave
When I’m before them may I be before you
And when I’m before you
Lord
Please
Keep me
Off the stage
Because the stage is where I give you
Just a hot beat with some Christian lyrics behind it
I grind it, bump it
Thinking it’s pleasing
When really its teasing
And lacks meaning
There’s no real sacrifice
Just some words that sound real nice
I paid no price
It didn’t alter my life
Or anyone else's
It’s selfish
Just a pacifier for my emptiness
And something to keep them off of me
So they won’t ask me
What’s really
Going on inside of me
Let me
Just put this together real quick
Drop a beat, make it slick
Write these words, that I can spit
Perform it
And split
Give me a topic
And I’ll drop it
Whatever it is
I’ll cop it
Make it hot
Then I’ll pocket
All the praise and the profit
It’s slick
I have to admit
That when I spit I wish
That my words will kiss
The audience
And cause them to explode
Will they like my flow?
Or the stories I’ve told?
I wonder how it will go
Give me some dap?
Invite me back?
To another show?
Is a producer here to see me?
Maybe I can get on somebody’s CD?
My name is Celita
Yeah, that’s C-E-L-I-T
God!
Keep me off the stage
Off the place where I perform
Above the norm
Where I’m acting out for a crowd
To keep them screamin’ real loud
Where I’m soaking in the praise
Soaking in the rays
With their hands raised
May their hands wave
Where I’m puffed up with pride
Headed to an empty grave
Where attention is my king
And I am it’s slave
When I’m before them may I be before you
And when I’m before you
Lord
Please
Keep me
Off the stage
Keep me from masking depth
Because I’m animated and fun
I’m so energetic that
People could get lost in what I’m saying
When I’m not saying anything
And they are applauding at nothing
It’s fraud and upsetting
I have to catch myself and
Keep myself rom letting
Myself to get in the way of you
God, what’s an artist to do?
We take pride in our craft
And the work that we’ve done
We want to be appreciated
And feel like we’ve won
When we get off the stage
Even though we don’t do it literary
We want it to be
As if we
Dropped the mic purposefully
Let it drop and ring that screeching
Sound in the ears of those listening
As if to say
“YEAH, now that’s HOT, you’ve got to admit
that I TORE IT UP, that I threw it up, and if you
followed what I was saying, you MIGHT catch it”
You know God
We want to make it real dramatic
Like we’re in a movie
And it’s moving in slow motion
As we’ve just hit the climax
And the audience is in commotion
They are shouting and cheering
Chanting and screaming
That sista’ is so anointed
When I’m relying on talent
Instead of digging deep within
On the inside of my baggage
And releasing the luggage
God keep me buried, beneath my ugly
No flaunting of perceived beauty
Because I’m recognizing
That apart from You I am nothing
And in case they thought I was something
The I allow you to reveal anything
That will squash that pretty easily
So I’m not just living daily
But hourly, minutely, secondly
So that I may stay holy
So Father, remind me
That this gift has no meaning
And adds no value to anything
May I be ever remembering
Of the things you’ve set me free from
The things that I’ve done
The short sprint races I have not won
And not to be condemned
But forever humbled and grateful
“Oh my goodness, you’re so great!”
No kid, I’m just a handful of clay
In the hands of the real artist
That knows how to keep this artist faithful
Keep me off the stage
Off the place where I perform
Above the norm
Where I’m acting out for a crowd
To keep them screamin’ real loud
Where I’m soaking in the praise
Soaking in the rays
With their hands raised
May their hands wave
Where I’m puffed up with pride
Headed to an empty grave
Where attention is my king
And I am it’s slave
When I’m before them may I be before you
And when I’m before you
Lord
Please
Keep me
Off the stage
You know, that stage in my life
That I’ve built figuratively
Where I’ve elevated myself
Above everyone else
And I’m acting like
You’re in the audience applauding me
Ugh, I must be crazy
God I know this is so ugly
But that’s why I’m speaking
So that I may turn this into a prayer
I put all this truth at your alter
And I leave it there
Father I pray that it burns in the fire
And that I would be set free
From this grotesque pride that I’ve created
Because the pride is killing me
God I ask, continually burn from me
My human impurities
And keep me off the stage
So that You may receive all daps, pats, all requests to come back
May others desire to be a track on Your CD
You see I loved that
I loved the way you cheered
The way you sighed and thought about what I shared
I want to soak in
The attention
I’m getting
But something is holding me back from it
God, this is an artists’ prayer
Keep me from taking the glory owed to you
When I leave the stage
May I leave the applause and claps behind
The praise that you are due
I don’t want to do
A routine that I do
When it’s time to perform
And forget about You
God keep me
Revealing the ugly and forever decreasing
Father, I pray, that you move me out the way
So that you may receive all glory
Lord, please, keep me off the stage
Off the place where I perform
Above the norm
Where I’m acting out for a crowd
To keep them screamin’ real loud
Where I’m soaking in the praise
Soaking in the rays
With their hands raised
May their hands wave
Where I’m puffed up with pride
Headed to an empty grave
Where attention is my king
And I am it’s slave
When I’m before them may I be before you
And when I’m before you
Lord
Please
Keep me
Off the stage