"boones" poems
1.complete th bridge to the moon started by
Jules Verne and raise the Nautilus..
2.Rebuild the colossus of Rhodes to spec.
3.Take a trip to John Gotti's summer home and split a bottle of Boones
Farm apple wine with him and Emelia.
4. Pull a small sample of bone marrow from Hitlers shriveled corpse for a
Little cloning project that I have been working on.
5.get a head count on all the politicians in the capital who don't consider
Their position a life long free ride with no accountability to the masses..
6. Resurect the cold fusion argument.
7. Run a sub 2 minute mile.
8.kick Tysons but with my right hand tied.
9.mix the perfect martini
10. Start all over again.
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
Watch out for the agenda
And the political crew
Lets just say they represent
SATANS Zoo
Wake up because we ******* galore
To many youngin' hittin' floor
Minds gone society gone
Guns is blown
Another body in the funeral home
They say color dont matter ?
But all i see is red
Once the flesh is cut we emotionally shattered
the world is bruised n battered
See the picture i lainted better
Than Van Gogh
But too many innovators entice
To the dough
O yea watch back cuz they quick to glue
Stick minorities to crimes
Thats not related to you
So cool demons surrounding n houndin'
Me how could this be?
If this is a holy society?
Popes are molesters churches are imitators
Of God how odd is that ?
Pack a gat in my 82 cadillac
Big grill spinnin smalls wheels vogues appeal
O so real
Ya know cant play a fake cant shake
The pain i hear the thunder clouds of pain
It's too.much of us livin' in vain
Now what im seyin' the strain
Its like that now
peep the game
like that now
get the humps up out ya back
yea i still embrace the gat
cuz the city ******
so i gotta get witty nitty in the gritty
i seen a starvin babe leechin'
on his mommas *******
but she half dead babe cryin'
look into her eyes and
you can tell she was a ******
**** how could this be
its my society
givin' drugs to the community
cant escape the rain
or the pain
just a little **** on my brain
coca leafs to puff on
henney and the boones farm
dont sway from the good
stay close to the hood
even though we got good times n bad times
kickin' dope rhymes
no punchlines
just sayin' whats on my mind
i wish i could bless the world
really doe
not have to front a show
just get some dough
that boy jesus
lived thirty three in a half years
aint neva have a job
just twelves homies
rollin' through the breeze
rocks cryin' water turns into red wine and
miracles happen in mysterious ways
still hopin' for better days
radiate my soul
chillin' unda the sun beam rays
feel me????
Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 2:47 AM UTC
high school head
under the bleachers
while the players footballed
and helmets clashed
and my sweet Stephanie
was giving me
so young we were
contracted to no one
just pleasure
and discovery
and the crowd roared
right when I scored
had my cheerleader
and a bottle of Boones Farm
and a loud roar
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 12:19 AM UTC
As I step into my chamber this morning
The slightest of murmurs could be heard
From pile after pile of poems laying around
The sound of the unfinished word
They all figured they sat and aged long enough
Like the finest of Boones Farm wine
Feeling they're ready to take on the world
And now was the best of times
So I started with the stacks on the left
Digging deep like there was no end
Just when I knew this job was through
I turned around to begin again
There were poems about the present
Poems about the past
A poem of when I found out what life was about
I'd forgotten I'd even had
There are more than enough poems about love
I know now why I set those aside
Though you know when it comes to love and relationships
You can run but you can not hide
There are a few I don't even remember
Letting go of the flow with paper and pen
I might have been in a state of elation
As I often am when a poem grabs my hand
So here I am going through the madness
Starting with the ones that are the loudest
Hoping to give them a chance to talk about it
It's not like they don't deserve it
They've waited here for years patiently
Till this day, the day of Murmur
My goal now is to dress them up so they can go out and play
In the poetic world known as Wonder
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 7:45 AM UTC