Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mark Sep 10
Just had a fight in da hood
Just had an offer from a corner girl
Do ya have reason for ya life
Feels like I'll always be doin' da same
Just had a knife thrown in my back
Just had to do what I do
Here to protect just you

Still I wonder why it is
I don't agree with all this
'Bout anyone like you
We keep doin' all the crime
Blowing off ****** all da time

You've got da moves, I can't repeat
You make me feel, like I'm a fool
When everyone else, gets the dance moves
Without a doubt you were born to stride
Michael's been away far too long
Can't find the words to explain history
Oh...
His grooves

Still I wonder why it is
I don't agree with all this
'Bout anyone like you
We keep doin' all the crime
Blowing off ****** all da time

Now just have to try and understand
The way it was
It's not a private thing anymore
'Cause we've seen through the mask on ya face
From tonight I know that you're not the only one
I've been confused and in denial
Now I understand

I wonder why it is
I don't argue like this
With anyone but you
I wonder why it is
I wont let my guard down
For anyone but you
We do it all the time
Blowing out my mind

Just had a fight in da hood
Just had an offer from a corner girl
Do ya have reason for ya life
Feels like I'll always be doin' da same
Just had a knife thrown in my back
Just had to do what I do
Here to protect just you.
Mark Sep 10
Get out of my life
Shut the front door
Or you'll be in strife
Like I've told you before

So she don't want you back
I could have told you that
Your fault for being so slack
Now who's wearing the top hat
At least ya don't have to put up with her girlie pack
The new gals at the bar will just think your some stray cat

Get out of my life
Shut the front door
Or you'll be in strife
Like I've told you before

But I miss her so much
I miss her soft touch
I know I was a bit rough
But she messed with my brain
Getting lost down memory lane
Like a boxers hit with no real true pain

Get out of my life
Shut the front door
Or you'll be in strife
Like I've told you before

I'll treat her with more respect
I don't won't our relationship to be wrecked
Do you think she will take me back?
I want to get our relationship on the right track
But first I want to see how I go with some other gals
Maybe she would be happier, if we were just good pals.
Mark Sep 10
I love da sound ya ***** makes
Slappin' against your sister and me
While we're all doin' da *******
On ya momma's new coloured **** pile  
***** young boys, forever slappin’
Ya *****, in da high school class  
Even some curious gals, slip in a quick feel
While flashing their hallway entry pass
Da sound ya ***** makes, ya must be using an amplifier
With a whole lot of ******* bass  
Next time though, try turning the trebble up
And turning down that ******* bass, just in case  
This morning I woke up stiff, like dead
Then picked up the paper and read my obituary  
I didn't feel that great, after we had done the missionary
Wish I was more of a future visionary  
****, I haven't even ironed my black shirt
For my very last day of hot sunlight  
Will I need to take a jumbo suitcase
Or maybe just some shorts and thongs
On my mystery ticket, one-way flight
Da sound ya ***** was a making
Was maybe way too loud, last night
And put me in, like a clothes dryer spin  
The police came by to check it all out
With some mace, just when I was ‘bout to sin  
Everyone's got an unusual craze in life
Mine just happened to put me in a daze  
Should've taken a much deeper breath
When going down between ya momma's thighs  
Send flowers to my ******* and hoes
And never ever forget, ya ****** nice ways  
Always tried to satisfy the whole **** world
But still hearing some sad **** sighs  
I like da sound ya ***** makes
Reminds me of a dance track
Played by the DJ, named Georgie O’Kay
While everyone dances to a beat
I'm hard at work, trying to get ya
To get down lower and pretend to play.
Mark Sep 12
I lived my life full of hope
Whiskey, Coke and green dope
Tablets with faces, just in case
But never acted out of place

A simple plan, with time on my side
An olive grove vineyard
Which crept on by, for a while
Yellow butterfly just landed
Then vanished without a trace
But never acted out of place

A sad brown eyed foreigner sipping inside
Along with a black tanned stranger
Who magically appeared from behind
A tongue tied drinker, tried to whisper
But she couldn’t quite seem to talk
But never acted out of place

I lived my life full of hope
Whiskey, Coke and green dope
But never acted out of place.
Mark Oct 6
You can have it all, if you don't need nothing
Keep the good vibes rolling, if it helps with one's loving
It's like a whole EDM festival, coming from your mouth
Not like those turntable dudes, down in the deep south
I thought DJs had had their freestyle spinning last days
Like Catholic church priests and their unholy ******* ways

Licking soda-pops over a long hot summer holiday
Kissing a girl named, Katy Perry, the very next day
Licking it all up, before she shows her b-SiDE
Then screams to three, to come on back inside
Like snatching the America's Cup, with Ben Lexcen’s winning keel
While somewhere amongst the hills of Hollywood’s La La Land
Whole plates of food, just going to waste, inside, never never,  friggin Disneyland
While a starving homie, maybe, just ate his very last meal

They say, ‘I'm the new messiah’.Thanks, but, I don't even try
Thanks to so few, excluding the ones, who waved me on by
I'm sort of creating, a brand new hype and buzz
Full of pure clarity, with a dash of man-made fuzz
When the beat stops, from its fast-talking pace
We all like to flop and drop that ******* bass

Licking soda-pops over a long hot summer holiday
Kissing a girl named, Katy Perry, the very next day
Licking it all up, before she shows her b-SiDE
Then screams to three, to come on back inside
Like snatching the America's Cup, with Ben Lexcen’s winning keel
While somewhere amongst the hills of Hollywood’s La La Land
Whole plates of food, just going to waste, inside never never, friggin Disneyland
While a starving homie, maybe, just ate his very last meal

A shout out, to all my southern conquistadors and homeward bound homie’s
Ignore all the Los Angeles doomsayers and Hollywood snapchat phoney's
Elevator doors always be jammin' and then coming to a closure
We all like a moment, of shy mouth miming, with very little exposure
From a worldwide hit or an Aussie Whispering Jack golden classic
From the sound of a crackling frisbee, made from nothing,
but pure black plastic

Licking soda-pops over a long hot summer holiday
Kissing a girl named, Katy Perry, the very next day
Licking it all up, before she shows her b-SiDE
Then screams to three, to come on back inside
Like snatching the America's Cup, with Ben Lexcen’s winning keel
While somewhere amongst the hills of Hollywood’s La La Land
Whole plates of food, just going to waste, inside, never never, friggin Disneyland
While a starving homie, maybe, just ate his very last meal.
Mark Oct 6
Jammin’ along to riffs by, Sister Tharpe and Robert Johnson,      
You could only tell the difference, if a spotlight shone upon each one.
For one was going to heaven, the other, all the way to hell.          
But, while they picked at their guitars the mobs would still yell.         
They’d do a solo on a lead guitar, unheard of in those days;          
Then be totally racistised once stepping out on the pavement.          
No mention in the papers, because of the editor’s clan, da-far-right KKKs.  
But, outrage and riots ensued, callin’ da end to all dat black enslavement.         
           
Just sit back, take it easy and let those blues fill your shoes.          
Let her just make y’all a little bit confused.         
Ask her before or after, were you just abused?         
Either way, if your spirit was amused, she’ll be excused.         
           
Been scooting across mid town and even to easy beat street.          
Tripping lights out and seen both colored folks, along the way.      
Gettin’ some to enter my mobile studio, I call ‘Da Jam in da Van’!
Because, it’s not for just any ole cotton pickin’ southern bred fan.  
So, come inside, switch it on, then ******* off my feet.  
I’ll sign you on the spot, if you purr like a cool cat or a certain sort of stray.      
           
Just sit back, take it easy and let those blues fill your shoes.      
Let her just make y’all a little bit confused.        
Ask her before or after, were you just abused?          
Either way, if your spirit was amused, she’ll be excused.      
           
The here and now, is where the blues are fully infused.         
Not from era’s gone past or from some distant future.          
You can’t find it in a library, you can’t teach her;         
You won’t see it in a theory, you won’t solve her;          
You shan’t catch it in a harness, you shan’t trap her.          
Once gotten, never forgotten, you’ll never ever, lose her.          
           
Just sit back, take it easy and let those blues fill your shoes.          
Let her just make y’all a little bit confused.          
Ask her before or after, were you just abused?         
Either way, if your spirit was amused, she’ll be excused.
Mark Oct 7
Take the color out, from even the darkest of cotton blues.          
Then you’d enjoy it, without any innate bias or clues.          
From the railroad vagrant, without any degree;          
To purring cool cats, with a PhD.        
Hell! Go back to where you were born, your inner roots.    
All da way back, when you’d let dirt, get on those anti-racist boots.          
We listened when it pricked our ear, then the color of blue was swept away.
Then, just black and white, made us jive to the music, on that very special day.
Just a start of a poem or song lyrics. Any help or advice on this write, would be greatly appreciated.
Mark Oct 11
I walk ‘n’ talk like a citizen, but feel like an American Alien.
I’m Canadian born, brought up by a Philadelphian.

Falling asleep at 3 AM, rising after noon
Instant fame and riches, happening way to soon.

Always being told to keep my head down;
On the road from town to town.
Pleasing the crowds, appeasing my manager.

Sometimes I think, I’m just riding shotgun.
If I ever broke my melody making,
crab claw pickin’ fingers
I’d be out on the street,
              ^^^
like all my other,
              ^^^
unfortunate *******.
Thx H, for this and that.
Mark Oct 11
Take prejudice, throw it all about  
By extracting color within the blues  
You’d all still enjoy it, no doubt  
Without any clues, you got nothin’ to lose  
The colors of blue are just taken out  
Now listen again, with newborn ears  
Remember, you’d let dirt, get in and about  
Baby face baby face without any fears.  
  
Tired of racism, going on and about    
By liberating, we strike new tunes  
You’d all still enjoy it, no doubt  
Without any clues, you got nothin’ to lose  
The colors of blue are just taken out  
Now listen again, with newborn ears  
Remember, you’d let dirt, get in and about  
Baby face baby face without any fears.  
   
All of society, from near to far about  
All city slickers, outback folks, to hippie communes  
You’d all still enjoy it, no doubt  
Without any clues, you got nothin’ to lose  
The colors of blue are just taken out  
Now listen again, with newborn ears  
Remember, you’d let dirt, get in and about  
Baby face baby face without any fears
Mark Oct 10
Workin’ as a young one, during da cotton pickin’ days.
Tuning my ears into, da older siblings gospel ways.
Smokin’ a whole lotta dope, got me to here.
Drinking from early mornings on, got me to there.
Playing some slow guitar chords, gave me the blues.
Sleeping at night, always awakening, to more bad news.

This is my blues.
Purely undiluted.
Then distilled on down.
To its true purity.

I got a kind hearted women, no imitation
Who will not let me be, until one dies
As she pulled up to the cotton plantation
I looked at her, straight in the eyes
Spoke to her, with her full attention
I’m outta here, anything else, I forgot to mention?

This is my blues.
Purely undiluted.
Then distilled on down.
To its true purity.

Isn’t it at all, a bit sort of creepy.
Returning home, to da back swamps of Mississippi
The last song I had ever written.
Would be the death of me, once bittern
Now ain’t that a bit haunting.
I should’ve just read, the dire warning.

This is my blues.
Purely undiluted.
Then distilled on down.
To its true purity.
Next page