There was a spoken-word poet from the hood
Who busted kick-ass rhymes that nobody could.
The homeboys believed he had a gift;
Jealous poets gave this nigga short shrift ~
'Till he busted a cap in their asses
and the jealous poets shut-the-fuck-up for good.
The DOT: Where dreams go to die
And people go to wait in line
Sit in plastic chairs for hours
Next to mr. homeboy
And some chick that never showers
I'd like to finish this poem,
But they just called my number
Peace out, Bitches.
Home boy thought he was a killer
Kept a necklace round his neck
In a villa near manila
A strange accurance
Small body found dead
Little homey died underneath the currents
Homeboy was sure of his assurance
A good swimmer
His name was probably Laurence
He was just a few feet from shore,
When this Alligator about six feet or four,
His eyes went wide, bug eyed and crazy
This is when it all got a little hazy
horse potatoes and mule fritters
never sell your soul to quitters
donkey droppings, road apples too
careful not to step in poo
cat shit, batshit, piles of guano
so foul it makes you sing soprano
you'll wonder where the yellow went
when you brush your teeth with excrement
piggie biscuits, doggie doo
rhino plasters at the zoo
honey hunk and bear scat pie
oh shit! did something just die?
funky flapjacks on the trails
between your toes, it never fails
did you get a whiff of it?
dass right, homeboy, you stepped in shit!!!
but i couldn't help myself
Cross my mind
I really shouldn't think of it
So I crank up the stereo
Still not helping me
The thought of your essence
Continues to provoke my emotions
The sensual vibrations of your voice
is intoxicating my ear drums and
impairs me to believe, that you remain in my presence
Is it that I'm going crazy
So I try chilling with my homeboys
to keep you away but that doesn't work either
Throughout the noise of laughter
the the thought of your eyes overwhelms me
What I see is two very remarkable gateways to your soul
from their i look deeper and I see me
caressing your heart to let you know I am here
When my homeboys had left
I started walking to occupy my mind
Still a failure and I still just don't know why
As I walk I picture you next to me
We holding hands tightly
The smooth tenderness of your hand
Arouses my mind and takes me back
to when you,
slightly grazed your hand over my head as I was sleeping
So I started run and from that
You were still there but you were in front of me
I guess that is a symbol of you trying to escape
your issues before I helped you to face them
and reason for me behind you is because
you will always be #1 in this race of thought
which is my cross country of emotions
So I stopped running and was heading home
but I was right next to your house
You came out and we once we started talking
The thought of you went away
but the realization of you was there
and now I see why I think of you so much
It's because you are my everything
and I could never stand to be away from you
So my mind try to fill the void
I never wanted to think of you
All I ever want is to be with you
To be continued.........
He walks with chains
his brown skin, his tired, old, tired, old, tired, old-tired hands
his heavy ass memories of lost, dead homeboys, his fear of loss, of inadequacy, of a multiple choice exam, it's easier to hold a gun, to act bad ass, than to be called a fag, after all fags are real men, cuz they know how to take it ... but no, he don't like them looking in his eyes as they dive into his flesh, he flies away and just lets his body there, numb, hot, sweaty and convulsing, filled with pleasure but soul-less, spiritless, without identity, it's just flesh and cum, all mixed into one.
Joe of to the poky.
Joe off to the pen.
Joe of the booze wagon again and again.
Joe fit shased and sailing, three sheets to the wind.
Joe swearing and cussing.
Joe in the back seat.
Joe sits on wrists. fingers all numb.
Joe tossin his cookies. Joe real no count bum.
Joe know all the coppers
And breaks in the rookies.
"Hey rook" asks Joe " "can you loosen these up"
My hands been asleep since Henry was a pup.
Joe Bangles they call him and erbody knows.
That Joey cant get lit up and keep on his clothes.
Going back to the house.
Three hots and a cot.
and wild stories to tell.
slippers and tooth brush in an eight by ten cell.
Mr. Joe Bangles Dance.
Stainless steel bangles are accessory of choice.
It doesnt make you a man when you raise your hand and say look baby im bout to make you understand because she opened her mouth and used her voice and yall didnt agree or make the same choice doesnt make you a man when you go out cheat honestly homeboy you just accepted defeat you tell her your sorry there wont be a repeat she falls for your lies and all your deciet baby open your eyes and begin to see that hes not a man he truely is weak he'll try to cover it up by being all sweet he'll do things he never does like rubbing your feet and youll fall right back in when you need to retreat kuz no women alive deserves to be beat
all aluminum alloy ammo
bane bat brakes badly basters back bones
come call cthulhu Cristo cuz
dead dominatrix dominate de download
even elven eternal endowments
fail frivolously flaming for fair fraudulence
grant good goggles give grandiose gratuity
how hella homeboys have how he has
If I ignore I implicate its implore
jack jacks jacks
kay killla kooks krack
LAPD locks la lackeys
maybe mom made mad monoxide
no, no natural nix NOx neutralizes
oh over overt opp only overlay orphic
please protest politely panic pretenses perpetuity
quiet quivers quiet queens
remember rage reaps reciprocity
so sour sits supplanters sat
to tell them to tare trail tit tat?
universal unhappiness underlays under us
victory validates victors vanity
why warble when winners wont waste worry wanting
x-axis x-rays Xerophagy Xanax Xanthorroea
you yodel yonder yet yahweh's yells Yarrish
zero zag zealots zoos