"banger" poems
Every day
I'd see them headin aff
in that clapped oot old banger.
He'd nivver get it looked at -
thocht it'd run
on positive energy and a kind word.
If that were true
my fower year apprenticeship
and six year in the garage
wouldny be worth ocht, would it?
But would he come tae me?
He would not.
There they'd go -
the exhaust gruntin lik a vexed rhinoceros
an the fan-belt scraichin lik a banshee.
Ah couldae sorted that in unner an hour.
Ah seen him workin on it wance, mind -
thocht he wis fin'ly gonny change thae bald tyres
But naw,
he wis paintin' ****** flooers on the bonnet!
Ah kin see them yet.
Headin up the hill,
weans in the back,
cloods ae black smoke pechin oot the pipe.
Ah couldae fixed it.
Ah couldae telt them.
But ah didnae.
An they nivver made it hame.
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 5:06 AM UTC
In Italy in 2017
A medical miracle
Will be seen;
A transplanted head.
They'd better get it right.
They didn't say which one.
Above the shoulders?
Below the waist?
Another ********
To dinkthink.
A hard-headed
Limp-brained head-banger.
Or did I misunderstand.
Perhaps it's woman's to a man.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
[PART 1]
**** everyone that’s ever been a friend of mine
Everyone that I ever loved until the end of time
So sick of sunshine, nothing but black clouds in my mind
I Sit seeing signs knowing that sometime soon it’s time
Seems we find a man stained with blood, spinning insane ****
Disaster’s in my lane but like Tech I pin and frame it
Don’t blame it on me when you embrace the inner furry
Spitting hurried words in a flurry, speaking absurdly
Has it occurred to thee, none of you could ever hurt me?
Absurdity, I feast on emcees, no obstacles for me
Illogical, living life like a beast, it’s mythological
Must be biological, the way I ****** methodical
Psychological warfare from one who never fought fair
Pathological nightmare, drops bodies without a care
Dare any soul to try and comprehend, this is the end
Once I begin, they all cry and slowly die from within
[PART 2]
**** everybody who ever passed anywhere near me
Everybody from my past who cared and yet still feared me
Nobody shed tears for me, or ever lent an ear to me
So now it’s clear to me, none of you are sincere to me
I disappear into madness filling my words with a blackness
No amount of cannabis can ever undo this sadness
Don’t ask me about my past; don’t think you’ll get past the mask
This just might be the last time you’ll EVER hear from my ***
Demons in mass and alas, I’m tangled within their grasp
Surpassed my peers and alas, I got no angels to ask
I’m mangled in my mind and it’s worse now that I’m all grown
Evilness in my bones plus I gets no rest in my dome
But I’m home at last with this pent up anger being shown
I’m alone; not a gang banger but I still hold the chrome
Come off my throne and try and comprehend, this is the end
Once I begin, they all cry and slowly die from within
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
Their lives bleed into mine
What am I becoming?
As long as I'm bleeding in line
I can hear war drums drumming
I feel my purity and youth leave me
As their lack of couth feeds me
And their sweet tooth bleeds me
Until eventually I too am greedy
In this ****** atmosphere
Our ***** past is clear
Inspiring future fears
And hardened tears
Drowned by beers
And empty cheers
Through the years
Until we're here
As a ****** stranger
Head banger
Teenager
In Jesus' manger
This blight
Of life
As a simulation
Of assimilation
Into a nation
Of incineration
In a ****** mire
Lit by the fire
Positioned higher
I call my sire
I fidget in the cage
Of this pivotal maze
Called the Digital Age
I'm in need of healing
From this dark feeling
That I'm an innocent child reading
A book about a grown man bleeding
Always met with a hateful greeting
While sympathy is fleeting
Being replaced by our own jadedness
After living with those who hated us
We develop defensive thorns
Resembling demonic horns
To match public scorns
My first love
Drew first blood
And I couldn't halt the blood loss
Exacerbated by the mud toss
Of the sinister town crier
Exposing my heart's desires
So I said never again
For the bleeding to stop
When dealing with men
Is like meeting the cops
Aware that I'm defenseless
They start beating me senseless
So I become a judge myself
Part of the sludge for my health
I won't budge unless it's for wealth
Accepting the cards I was dealt
They bled into me
Now red is all I see
No way to get free
So I follow their lead
And choose to bleed
As they pray and plead
It becomes my turn
To cause the burns
That I had learned
When I was spurned
And lost my purity
Now blood cures me
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 5:09 AM UTC
I guess we were bored,
Or looking for something new.
And there was a party coming up.
Someone's hosting debut.
So we thought we'd ask around,
See what else was to do.
And our **** dealer told us
He sold other things too.
He nicknamed it dizz,
And it sounded quite fun.
So we talked all about it,
Decided to get some.
We all pitched in,
Asked for five or ten pounds.
And went and collected it;
Tin foil bound.
Accompanying us
Was a sober mate.
He said it would be fun
To watch and spectate.
So we unwrapped it,
Crushed it,
Poured it,
And drank it.
The taste was disgusting,
Of abstract chemicals.
But we swallowed it down,
A moment; seminal.
They said twenty minutes,
So we sat and waited.
Our hearts were pumping
Way before eight.
And we went downstairs,
Sat on a sofa,
Biding our time,
Sipping on cola...
And there.
What was that.
A feeling.
It entered the chat.
Some warmth,
No stress.
And then a
Very deep breath
Of fresh air
And emotion.
Like emerging from the bottom
Of a very deep ocean
You had been down for years.
Reggae was playing
At very high volume.
And none wanted staying
Where we were.
So we got up keen,
And started dancing.
One even went on the wet trampoline
And bounced
Up, down,
Up, down,
Could've gone till sundown.
And the sky was gorgeous;
Metallic, steel blue
Mixed with orange and yellow.
It was quite the view.
But time was
Moving on,
So we packed up,
And were almost gone
Before keys jangled,
And the door swung open.
A parent walked in,
And caused a commotion
Of boys rushing out,
Mumbling words and plans.
We left quite abruptly,
And sprinted and ran.
Once round the corner,
We couldn't care less.
Nonchalant as usual,
We enjoyed the success.
And we walked and talked
About pure, utter, *****
The iPhone X, some girls,
And the absolute banger that would be tonight.
So we strolled around,
The sun on our faces,
Feeling elated.
Going some places.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 7:01 PM UTC
Sitting in white shirt
(Loosened yuppie Windsor knot)
Armchair laughing
Having realized the grand joke of life
Satisfied little Sanskrit honey
Is it a bohdi tree or burning bush
(When really are one and same)
Don't think too hard
Suburban white boy dreams of trap houses
With tie over shoulder
As the tv says it prevents
***** on tie
Little air planes
Round and white
Hard pressed (to explain)
Make one fly at high speed
Get it? (never mind inside joke laughing)
Talks like a gang banger
Can't take it seriously
Little big boy equals not shook
Drinking rot gut tallboys
Days after and minutes away
Zehaf-Bibeau war memorial
Winchester repeater in hand
Supposed ideological threat needed
Expand the police state
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 2:00 AM UTC
So I wrote a Notorious word to the Crook King
of Brooklyn who wrote the street book
Based on how the street he took
with feet quite fleet.
You know his spirit i did meet,
first last year on bicycle day
A tab of acid found its way
on my tongue it lay,
in the bathroom mirror I was prone to say,
"Biggie Smalls, Biggie Smalls, Biggie Smalls" and my heart did in fear fall,
Thought to myself
"I swear I hear a glock click near my left ear" so I got the hell out of there.
The second time was a bit more fair,
the air of a fellow player, yao slanger,
beat banger, he spat a 16 bar prayer
of how he was an unknowing player
In His plan a silent hand of hope
for all the ****** that are broke.
That the Sky is the limit,
only make moves when your heart's in it,
then you are guaranteed to win it.
Ain't no sin against it,
**** the world don't ask it for ****
that's word to BIG
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 7:44 PM UTC
Let's celebrate the success
And enjoy the moment
Let's recount the problems
And how we solved them
But let's live for another day to celebrate
Let's satisfy the hunger
And dance to that banger
Let's toast to the dangers
And how we survived them
But let's live for another day to celebrate
Another day to drink
Another day to sing
Another day to drive
Another day to thrive
Let's live for another day to celebrate
Jul 26, 2023
Jul 26, 2023 at 7:15 PM UTC
let's write a song together, lyrics like, "you don't love me no more
see you walk out the door, wondering why it took you so long
your cuteass in tight jeans, a curse and a blessing to watch you leave"
got an upright piano in the corner that's sort of been neglected
and it plays every other C out of tune, but we can't afford a tuner
to come by and nor can we buy new strings for a guitar
we get up, we fall down, we find love, and we crash all the way
and heaven help us, now that we're separate and on our own
love the route it takes us to a melancholy mood that's so particular
and so comfortable to be wrapped up in an ocean of blankets
under a crepuscular night~ play that song all night and have it repeat
when you're at work and it'll burn itself in the background forever
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 7:24 AM UTC
Dit was daar
Ń knal in die nag
Skerper as die dop-klank
Van dinamiet in dolomiet
En gevaarliker as klapperskiet;
Die knal in die nag...
"Dit was daar op stemdag "
, sê ek.
Dit was... ekt gehoor!
Skiet ek my siel uit
Teen die leë gehoor
"Dankie my bokkie"
,Met x'e gekys
Help nie my hart nie
X'e is ook maar ń tipe kruis
Ñ tipe graf in afwag
Ń tipe nood, ń stille dood.
Dan tref die waarheid my hard
Soos ń gewyde plathand
Van ń skietman of ń doodsman
Dis jou land , dis díe land
Hoekom nou skielik bang?
Ekt dit gehoor, ekt dit gehoor
Ek sweer op die graf
Van die gesneuwelde stem.
Maar nou kom noem-
Moet ek erken...
Ek vrees die geweerskoot
Meer as die galg
Wat stil is soos slange
Wat my wurg en my walg.
Ek is banger vir die knal
Wat die hele buurt vang
As die halfpad val
En heeltyd hang
Soos kleintyd speeltyd
Van rodswaai en my lyfie
Aan toue op hang.
Wats ñ geweerskoot nou
Teen die monsters van binne
Wat klou om te hou.
Raak rustig , haal asem
, toe nou bedaar.
Jy weet mos jou denke
Was maar nog altyd
Jou grootste gevaar.
- wanneer geweerskote in
kopskote verander...
Raak die wêreld donker
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
Seen something move out the corner of my eye
Can’t tell the difference between dreams and real life
Maybe that’s why I got such unrealistic visions
They tell me to create a real list of things I could be
But I ainte a realist, because life’s too silly to sit around waiting for the reel to end
They don’t see what I see
These pupils are blood shot with conformity stuck up their rear ends
They just live a broken hope smothered in icing, while I sit on the ledge
My brains got no drive these days, see it flies eh, I’m livin’ on a flaming jet
They keep asking me to flash my knowledge
Maybe that’s why they call it a mind-set
But hell, I only know ledge, never seen over the hedge
Is the grass greener?
I don’t know, I haven’t smoked it yet
I felt high above but then life got plain and crashed into the edge
Of the Earth
And I rose again like smoke does when things get heated
And I know the Earth isn’t flat, it’s got a nice set of behemoths
Ones Mount Everest
And then there’s me mounting every verse until I’ve fulfilled my thirst
Eating creativity alive and only leaving behind the skeletons
So when they pile up you can identify their behinds and come find me in my cabin
Would you like to see my trophies mounted?
Dates below from when they were founded?
They weren’t found, they were downed
And only a fool would mount’em
I’d rather stack’em and climb’em like a mountain
And prove I’m the chest of the world
Look inside and find golden albums
… What the **** that was a weird dream
REM sleep sure knows how to deceive
And it left me with such a cliff-hanger too
Or should I say aircraft hangar
To store my fly art in ‘er
Feels like I was at a witch-craft banger
I’m feelin cursed as I spell
Feels like the devils got my voodoo doll
Maybe that’s why I’m on fire
I’m so tired my words tie together in red
The line between my dreams and reality is ceasing to exist
My two worlds dance, my thoughts prance and draw blood, in a beautiful dissonance
It’s only when I’m half asleep that I’m truly awake to my passionate presence
Insomnia is a curse and a blessing
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 12:47 AM UTC
The bass hits hard in the back seat of a car
Passing zoots back & forth, here we are
Hoods up, the man dem looking for war
Pistol gripped, left hand, and we're sure
Trying to **** a man tonight for the cause
Man got the cash, that's right, that's ours
Trying to get that food for the fight, for the boys
Animals in black masks holding their toys
Orders from above as we arrive at the spot
To the place where the man-a get popped
Shifty looking bloke in a hood, we've been clocked
Every man rush from the car on the block
Running with the crew with my hand on my... glock
Round the corner, right towards the shops
At that point the man we pursue just stops
At that point all we hear is gun shots
Rodney got shot, Malcolm got shot
Barry got shot, Marvin got shot
Mans on the roof picking us off like dogs
I let the banger blare, but I know I lost the plot
Took a hasty retreat on my lonesome in the dark
Made a left by the pub and ended up at the park
Man still chasing me, I know they're not far
I need to get back to my crew and the car
I'll probably be dead before I get past the bar
I kept on towards my estate, just to be sure
No long ting, I don't want a grand tour
Shook the man off when I got to my door
But when I got inside, the only thing that I saw
The faces of my dead friends and a land of no law
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 5:39 PM UTC
And you get to witness the destruction of mankind
The manifestation of violence
The rise of crime
The chemically induced joy that deteriorates the mind
The cancerous legions on the soul that no doctor can find
The shaman surgeon with the power to freeze time
The emotionally famished family that uncle sam left behind
The monotonous chime that causes the suits and ties to burst into reanimation
The unmovable path of the bullet that kills without hesitation
The murderous gang-banger dining in hells kitchen with no reservation
The chains that bound the vagabond with no visitations
The gruesome violence on the silver-screen that is met with joyous elation
The exchange of video entertainment for a basic education
The deterioration of the young minds that's given little concentration
The beautiful flesh but empty soul that makes a living through fornication
The ****** spoils of war that leads to mental devastation
The death of good-will with no justification
And you will not witness death but morale genocide
Not of a specific person, but of certain values that are impossible to hide
And with only one man to confide, they will continuously choose what is not right
They will put down their crucifixes so they will have more hands to fight
And only for the wicked reasons will they unite
And you will witness them as they witness you
As you teach of accountability, as you lecture of love
But you will often be met with a deaf ear
But do not give up on those ideals that you hold dear
Because if you look to the edges of the earth, and then gaze above
Ask yourself: Where do I want to be when it is time to be judged?
But despite our ideals our conscience decisions proves the prophecies true
*We will be the death of mankind
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 9:24 AM UTC
what i find with western societies
is that they overly assert the worth of
psychology, without ever having read
a book of philosophy; meaning that
too many are treated as psychiatric
imbeciles, when in fact the culprit is
hard-worn and readied to re-enact the execution,
ready the plumber and forget the library banger;
with all that might hang, Charlie would
have asked Cromwell: did i have the power
or are you jeopardising in the extreme?
Calcutta o.k., hunches and surf's up!
surf's up... biggie bagpipe wave! hoo! hay!
a transvestite hooray! i too a
Thailand lady-boy, translated: north korea
in jitters and Japanese worth of shoo shy flips
of Kentucky Solomon... or some other slang
glued to cool.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 10:28 PM UTC
I'm surprised, by what I let slip
"I want to cut my tongue open, and watch the blood drip."
Something here is incredibly wrong,
We're the same person, I swear,
but we're total opposites, like an oxymoron
or trying to read through a mirror.
Like that ***** at my school who died from an overdose of oxycotton."
She said so matter of factly.
As a matter of fact, his funeral was today.
I wonder who has lives outside of this one,
and what other worlds are like
I wonder if you notice coffee's bitter taste
I wonder where his is, and his stupid talent thats going to waste
When you lose your glasses, its harder to see
and when you lose your thoughts, its harder to be.
We only notice the problems of others, if we've been there ourselves
The only ones who notice, are the ones who understand.
But if you keep quiet, they won't cut you by the wrist
or take you by the hand.
"what does domestic violence mean to you?"
He said: "they don't fuckin' listen" and
I wanted to punch him in the mouth.
Jaded or not, I'm not going to like you,
as much as I thought I would.
If you know the answer, then the question is never good.
Don't mettle in things, if you don't think he should
Full Force Frontal Banger.
Oh, to fly..
More than a fender ****** to slap the face of the sky.
Its a simple wish, to cut my insides out,
and watch them squirm like worms for fish
For an answer you know you don't want to hear
The sounds of a head on collision, and the wind in your ear.
If you want to fall asleep, darling, you've got to close your eyes.
Feb 18, 2010
Feb 18, 2010 at 7:11 PM UTC
Here’s a locked box of anagram shazam
(Don’t open it
The crazies might come out)
There’s a sealed sack of angsty crank-clanks
Take it, go away
I’m simply not myself today
** Yes, it’s true
I am sinking sads for you
Letting drinkies drown
My Anger Banger frown
Cryptic? Klik-kwik, and no, no
I was never there
Avaunt, begone, beware
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 4:47 AM UTC
That's Right My ANGER...
Yes... My ANGER... !!!!!!
Is PERFECTLY Fit...
For A... Poetic BANGER... !!!
You See My ANGER FEEDS...
Poetic Seams That Most CAN'T Believe... !!!
That's NOT EGO Peeps'... !!!
I Merely REPEAT What Some INDEED...
Have IMMEDIATELY...
Said Upon Hearing Big Virge Poetry... !!!!
Ya See My Anger... " Simmers "...
Before It Glimmers And Makes Heads SHIVER... !!!!
Like Walking In Slippers In A BITTER Winter... !!!!!!!
What My Anger Delivers....
Has Made Man QUIVER...
Who Thought They Were BIGGER...
Than... Heavenly Figures... ?!?
My Scriptures Paint Pictures...
of Anger That's SICKER...
Than ********** Vicars... !!!!!!!!!!!!
My Angers' Religion...
Paints... Dark Matter Visions... !!!
That DO NEED...................... DISMISSING.........
Because of... DARK Thinking... !!!!!!!!!!!!
That NEEDS To Go MISSING.... !!!!!!
By This I Mean...
Anger That Rests Inside of ME...
Is Something UNWORTHY...
of...... " Humanity "...... !!!
It's Something SO SCARY...
That YES It... SCARES ME... !!!
Because of The POWER...
of Its... ENERGY... !!!
From Poems To Flowing...
With... IGNORANT Peeps'...
My ANGER Is Something...
People... Have NOT SEEN... !!!!!
They... THINK That They Have...
Which PROVES I'm A Man...
Whose Coolness EXCEEDS...
Much More Than These DUMMIES...
Could... EVER Conceive... !!!!!!
If I … EVER DID...
Reverse FLIP The Script...
And Let My ANGER FLIP...
From Words To BULLETS... !!!
And Moving Like VILLAINS...
Whose Anger Would LIVE...
To... NEVER FORGIVE... !!!!!
You Kids Should RUN QUICK.... !!!!
Because There's A DARKNESS...
That Lies... " DEEP WITHIN "... !!!
BEYOND... " BAD Lieutenants "...
And... DRUG Dealing Fellas'... !!!!!!
SINISTER Vibes' ....
Would Direct My Mind...
So PLEASE RECOGNISE...
What I Say In These Lines... !!!
Because I Am Nice...
When I Greet The FIRST TIME... !!!
But REALLY DON'T LIKE...
People... Crossing The Line...
of RESPECT... I Live By...
It RUNS DEEP In Me... !!!!!
Like... ANGRY Legacies...
Bred From … IGNORANCE...
That's Now Seen On Streets... !!!
So PLEASE HEED My WARNING... !!!!!
These Words AREN'T For GLAMOUR... !!!
They're Born From EXPLORING....
What Lies In.....
...... " My ANGER "...... !!!!!!
Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 10:03 PM UTC
Why not the ******* who just robbed the old man at the corner store
Why not the lady who crack induced her own abortion because she didn't want a baby no more
Why not the gang banger who killed a man just for his name
Why not the dishonest greedy businessman who's always begging for change
Why not the creep at church that gets away with touching little kids
Why not the guilty pastor that knew about it yet acted like he never did
Why not the ungrateful mother that enjoys bullying her seed
Why not the evil grandkids at gravesites holding their hands out in open greed
Why do people like this don't feel as much hurt and suffering
Why does it seem my life is just a living offering?
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
Down the entry ..up we ran
Fighting ,shouting, laughing cans
Days of old where nothing mattered
Play outside until ya shattered
Knock on doors and make a scarper
Light a banger .. could n be dafter
Chase ya mates on bikes all rusty
Pulling wheelies ...fetching plasters
Build a den from scraps of wood
Hide for ages till its grub
Bottles sought to take to shop
Swap for sweeties gobs that stop
Not a phone nor worried sight
When you turn up late at night
Eat ya nosh see Kojak chase
Fire lit ya in dads place
Jimmy's on all snuggled in
flick 3 channels theres nothing on
Of to bed with ***** feet
Only bath time once a week
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 5:10 AM UTC
If you're a popper, I'm a bomber
If you're a romp & runner
I'm boomerang & banger
If You're a hot in the sacker
I'm a leather Queen, *** Smacker
But, seriously, En Scene, Cut, Shows Over, Curtain Call
Not one of these Scenarios Describes Anything appealing
Nor Aligned with my Temple of Love, This is Holy Sanctuary,
This is Holistic Prayer, the Ectomorph in Ecstasy.
Body Electric, Full Sense ********
My Mystical ************ is my Body's Prayer to God
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC
Restriction of the Bay's yeehaw,
Politely in the inner steel,
Cold bars to the planet Mars,
Dealers are encased as they want a deal!!!!
Currency friendly banker's bank upon thy smallest of wages,
Where buttered blades slice through T. C control!!!
Quadruplets of chain-gang walk in's all talking is sprayed like Russian magazines,
Some grown to addiction,
Dreamer's stay phene!!!!
Profane novelists attend the wickered chairs,
Wherein only ones a pair in solitaried room,
Twenty months to thou makes a year,
While a year settles for two....
Draft windows,
Plasticated pillows are showcases for what's to come!!!
Sit down,
Thou fool in blue the shows here, or the show has just begun!!!!!
Bribery is doubled,
A hand here at this polo lagoon!
Wherein monsoon's turn to drop outs,
Where knockout's are proprietary locked into place wittled with screws!!!!
Strenuous pulsation's beat to the enflamed core,
Pose thyself,
Thy critic of nature and god, you've settled your betted scores!!!!!
Narcotic,
I see you promising greater hopes with pre-maturities scope,
I've missed the hanging strike!!!
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 12:11 PM UTC
I’m a tightrope walker, strung between
the hedonistic abyss of winter break and
the unforgiving canyon of organic chemistry.
The stack of spring syllabuses are a prophecy whispered
in Latin. The story they tell haunts my dreams - wherein
each biochemical is a monster lurking in the shadows.
“I’m not in a tailspin, that would be unfair,” I tell Lisa, “I’m in a lull.”
“It’s like that awkward time, between a hangover and drinking again.” she laughs.
Sure, I envisage late, week night study grinds, and sleepless
hours, but the price of serious things isn’t trivial - success and hard
work are, unfortunately, yoked together, like Shakespeare’s double shadow.
A tough spring curriculum won’t stop me from
taking 3 or 4 minutes to dance with roomates
when a head-banger like ‘Spiral City’ plays or
enjoying sudden, late night jelly bean melees.
And then there are the spring things that spark joy.
Walking to class on a brilliant spring morning,
with birdsong, a warm sun and fragrant breezes.
Laughs stolen in the back of classes,
gossip and secrets exchanged over
guilty coffee and croissant indulgences.
Skipping through crowded halls, drawing looks
‘cause we’re clapping aggressively to each other, singin’
“You got the swag sauce, she dripping swagu, ooh!”
“Ok,” I think to myself, putting my hair in a ponytail,
“I’m ready for spring semester - bring it on.”
Jan 13, 2024
Jan 13, 2024 at 5:53 AM UTC
An admiration for abolition.
Close quarters conversation, and demolition.
Obstructive outbursts, constructive concerts,
and outraged rebellious rallies.
They preach round words, and mastered mortality catalysts,
soaked like dish towels.
Pen and paper,
barbed double edged razor wire,
and sharp teeth.
Hand tapered fine meats; an electrified man- reviver.
Perplexed attire,
liquor bottles and glass houses.
Insane models, fake **** in skin blouses.
Weaved baskets of silver trash,
and packed ground ashes.
The masses, pained by stained caskets,
and back lashes.
Oblivion shoves, and the brain passes.
The sadness.
Fertilized territories,
and athletes with vein madness.
Getting laid, and LED light brigades,
November no-shave, and long hair with viking braids.
Homeless, with no car and bike less.
Filling lungs up with nitrous.
Instantly flightless,
and magazines full of white ****** spiteness.
An officers flashlight kiss.
Nervousness, and ****** lips.
Love confusion, brought on by a ****** fist.
Lucrative ways to hang and sway.
Dangle from the chain of a rich gang banger,
as he fades to grey.
Rude assumptions, and high heeled country bumpkins.
Cracking the asphalt with their steel toes thumping.
What a great place to be.
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 9:37 PM UTC