Be the be the be to bop the bop
Nov 11, 2010

A hot hot shower after a cold cold snow
Two arms holding you tightly and refusing to let you go
Be the be the be to bop the bop
Nuzzling with man's best friend and stirring up the trouble
It is quite fun living inside your very own bubble
Be the be the be to bop the bop
Filter with my Brita, lean with my shoulder
Let time pass you slow, as you grow older
Be the be the be to bop the bop
Watch the sun set, sleep when the sun rises
Beat the shit out of Mr. Piñata to win the colorful prizes
Be the be the be to bop the bop

Bop City
Jasmyn 'Ladi J'
Jasmyn 'Ladi J'
Jun 11, 2013

Bop City
A place where we can go to be free
Jus like when the slaves were freed and changed their last name to Freeman you can be anyone
Free from the white mans values
Nappy hair cuz black is beautiful
If Straight hair isn't ur natural texture then maybe you have a self image problem cuz God made ur hair that way so why change it
Weaves best believe are shackles to the way u think u should view yourself
Big lips cuz they are better and cool down your food
Oh and don't forget better to kiss with
Realize y'all that bop city is not a myth
It can be a real place where we don't have to live up to these European standards
Just because we were born here doesn't nullify the fact that we were stolen to get here
We gotta stop being so chained by what others want us to be
Man we all kno Jesus was of some type of color
We all kno that we all came from the same place
We all kno that we are moving towards all looking the same
Or do you?
So why do we continue to be maimed  and not understand that we are jus as good as everyone else
We got so caught up in freedom that we forgot about bop city
Giving the cold shoulder making it really chilly
So please my people come back to bop city
It's happening over here
Dancing all night
Libations leading to many sensations
Cultivation of one nation under God...color invisible and justice for all  
Bop city

And there it was
A smoke ring blown into my face
And everything became halcyon
My heartbeat became the most profound thing I had ever heard

I wanted to live
I wanted to die
Descend into deranged madness

Walk to the noise and fog
The vast shiver of empty Mid-morning delusion
I spoke in a slangue I never heard

My surprised lips
Do the unexpected
Abandon all thought
All modern emotion

I belong here

Francisco DH
Francisco DH
Jun 5, 2013

Everyone is talking about you.
Shall I ?
She Refuses

The BOP means Blackout poetry. I had the chance to test it out and I like it. It's hard to find the right words to make something that makes sense but I like the challenge.
Each one I did has a story that played in my head. Hope you enjoy!
Sep 1, 2014

guess you shouldve thought about that
before you broke your mothers back,huh,sweetheart?

in my anthology that will probably never be published this and vol 1 go right next to each other so people see the contrasting lengths (~841 words vs 14. yes)
#beep   #bop   #boop  
Anna Lo
Anna Lo
Feb 6, 2012

i wonder if i should embrace the life expectancy of a snail slime-ing away
along the sidewalk,
it's sanctity already ruined,
it's guts spilled out in a portentous manner,
showing all what it once was
and all what will inevitably happen,
in an odd manner
filling in the void of this world
by allowing the stitch of the patterns stay put.
but i digress.
there ought to be much more.

A small one I had a short while ago.
M Clement
M Clement
Dec 2, 2012

My fingers
My wrists

I can feel the energy leaving my arms
As if there's nothing left to write.
It can't be true; however,
that there's nothing left to write

There's got to be something

That got dark fast.

I could write something,
I think I have the energy
But what to write about?

Karen Ina
Jun 15, 2012

In just my time, you rang the bell,
The air of Spring in Autumn dwells
Where the world is seen in no hard way.

My eyes look bright, my father tells,
Of feelings felt and once were quelled
On this bench; you sit and understand

I feel one day we’ll make smooth jazz.

Anthony Williams
Anthony Williams
Jul 18, 2014

The lining of my grey suit
sparkles like it can't tear itself
from the stars full of secret passions
which belt my skin hugging eyes
to strokes of gentle smooth
back handed compliments
tightly lingering on your waist
while imaginary boutonnières
are pressing comfortably into ribs
feeling you pinch my collar
and tug towards its button hole
open to curl a whispered flower
tight enough to pin my breast pocket heart
against moving from your own
pressing loveliness

It's no surprise when you shock
my circadian rhythms out of sleep
sending me to bed at the most opportune
time's tales stalling the early hours
to wet my dry lips on doubles
of Bombay Sapphire gin
blue skies
stirred into a Campari soda aperitif
red as all round sunsets
going down on a burning gold mine
melting the ice cube universe above it
into the trailing edge of your light path

As if the cult of comet Hale-Bopp
had returned from Heaven's Gate
in the form of an insomniac priestess
landing craft crushes gone rampant
as it heads for a melting Icelandic glacier
crashing like a bouncing ball
in rolled up sheets
sliding to a temporary stop
scrunched around your hair
shaking the doubts of the day
out like a cascading highlight
rushing into the shadows
and on to tremulous scalding streams
brushing my shirt stripes apart

thoughts like magnetic locks jolted
into releasing dark bright conflict
to see where gasps could bite
without spilling tears of poisonous scalding
hot from wells dug deep in fissured oases
trying to bury hands with cupped fingers
impatient to splash in your wake
and unpack those mirrored thumbs
dug into well sprung geyser like palms
leaning hard on the prison walls of the night
like off duty guards

letting down their punishment roughly
until disappearing through wide open eyeshadows
as startled as rabbits caught escaping
by a searchlight wanting to skin them alive
and throw them under a sheet
covered in burrowed tunnels of love
to emerge the other side neatly redressed
in grey morning suits and starshine eyes

by Anthony Williams
#love   #lost   #comet   #hale   #bop  

We’re hungry for change,
for our fathers, mothers, brothers,
friends and sisters to break free
from undeserved handcuffs,
the non-existent closet
and slurs etched into our brains.

They are starving us.

Begging for scraps of justice and equality
is limited to 180 characters;
they refuse to listen to 180 words
coming from our mouths.
It’s easier for them to ignore our pleas
when we are reduced to a 1080 pixel face
on their phone. They scroll past
while sitting on the toilet.

They are starving us.

This platform is big enough
for us but it’s big enough for them, too,
so until we can freely speak
on a real platform without fear
for our lives we will continue
to seek sustenance online.

They are starving us.

#social   #current   #issues   #rights   #event   #events   #bop  
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