"changin" poems
this time is dark and dreary
why do i live it out?
i’m in the dirt and dusty road
what’s this life all about?
i look up and it seems like miles
‘till i could reach the sky
someone told me that i could go
but i know it’s a lie
but somethin’ says
fly high butterfly
come on, you won’t die
fly high butterfly
come on reach for the sky
fly high butterfly
come on butterfly fly
fly high butterfly
i feel that i can’t do it
i wanna stay the same
though this is hard and rough terrain
to me it’s home i say
then groundhog day it is again
please stop it i implore
the wounds need healin’ i am hurt
can’t take it anymore
but somethin’ says
fly high butterfly
come on, you won’t die
fly high butterfly
come on reach for the sky
fly high butterfly
come on butterfly fly
fly high butterfly
i crawl up to my empty shell
i curl up inside
i wait, i’m frightened, what to do?
i feel like i will die
i melt down into nothingness
i cannot take the pain
but something’s changin’ i wake up
to see life once again
cuz somethin’ said
fly high butterfly
come on, you won’t die
fly high butterfly
fly on up to the sky
fly high butterfly
come on butterfly fly
i flew and saw the light
i’m alive butterfly
now i know that this is the life
have the courage fly
fly high butterfly
©2016janetaylor
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 6:37 AM UTC
I swear
next time a person tells me ,
"oh she looks like a little ****
OH SHE WAS
ASKIN FOR IT !
OH YOUR BODY
IS THE REASON
YOU WERE TOUCHED
oh she's slept with too many men ,
oh she's too much of an angry feminist."
I would love to ask them
well
WHYYYY
do you think she's such an
ANGRY FEMINIST
I know why I AM!!!!
;
BECAUSE when so many men &women
have ***** abused assaulted
hurt me with words
emotionally abused manipulated
gaslighted me
you feel poisoned by the men
who should've protected you
and when you feel that way by many women too
than where does that leave you ??
it leaves you hating most people
so stop tellin' us
TO STOP BEING
MAD
START
CHANGIN'
AND THEN
JUST SHUT
THE HELL
UP!!!
Mar 10, 2023
Mar 10, 2023 at 3:05 PM UTC
Alam kong maraming patalastas sa buhay ko,
Hindi naman yun ang mahalaga
Kundi ang istorya, yung kabuuan.
I know there's a lot of commercials in my life,
That's not important
But the story, the whole thing.
Alam **** maraming sakit at saya sa buhay ko,
Pero patuloy Mo pa rin akong sinusubaybayan.
You know there's a lot of hurt and happiness in my life,
But You're always there, monitoring me.
Kapag hindi mo gusto ang mga nakikita mo,
Pinapatay Mo ako o kaya lumilipat Ka sa iba
Hindi dahil ayaw Mo na sa akin,
Pero dahil hindi Mo kalooban ang eksena.
When what you see doesn't please You,
You're killin' me or simply changin' Your route
Not because you dislike or hate me,
But because it really isn't Your will.
Pero hindi Mo ako iniwan
Pinapansin Mo pa rin ako.
Pinagtitiyagaan hanggang sa matapos ang eksena
At muling aabangan.
Ganoon pala ang pakiramdam
Salamat sa importansyang inagkaloob Mo
Kusa **** ginagawa ang lahat,
Hindi ako perpekto pero hindi ko alam,
Bat nandyan Ka pa rin para sa akin.
But You never had left me,
Your eyes were always on me.
Pursuing me until the shifts and end of scenes
And will still wait for me.
So that's how it feels
I thank You for the importance You're showing me
It is Your initiative to do every thing.
I ain't perfect but I still don't know,
Why for me, You're still there.
Salamat, Panginoon.
Thank You, Lord.
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 10:05 AM UTC
Give it all you got
Only option left to choose
Tip your cap
Turn your back
Throw up that deuce
But, who woulda knew
That clarity of concentration
Comes from unexpected deviations
From our anticipations
Suddenly
Shipwrecked
Lost at sea
Starin at that deep blue green
Like, it's just you,
And me
And we are the masters behind these sails
When our stories told
It'll be the stuff of fairy tales
The true master misses miserably alot
What matters most is
We take all our shots
So this is my position
Listen up
I don't give a ****
About you *****
Who don't give a ****
You on the sidelines of the game
What's it gonna take for you to lace em
And step it up?
I see you suckers pacin'
Over self-made situations
Like destiny isn't something we participate in
But what if we switch stations
Movin' makin'
Anxious Amplification
Got that body breakin'
Beats to shuffle strutin' feet and
Our music's the motivation
Our life, our part
Art over every evocation
Trumpets triumphantly proclaim the pontification
Sifting, shifting the breeze
The time, they are a' changin'
The rhythms's exquisite equations
Derivative of internal escavated wisdoms
Whimsical inquisitive exploration
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 6:58 AM UTC
Relationship are rough,
sailin’ the ever changin’ tides of emotion.
They don’t come ‘bout easy,
they require a lot of hard work!
Some days be jolly!
But sometime things don’t go yer way.
Some days there’s a change in the wind,
a change in the current,
that goes against the riggins’ o’ yer ship
an’ ye struggle,
but that doesn’t mean yer ship is sinkin’!
Don’t walk the plank now,
just ‘cause the imminent Kraken
of breakup and doubt
is in hot pursuit o’ yer vessel!
Like Dido,
ye won’t be goin’ down with this ship,
there’ll be no white flag!
Are ye really going to let some bombastic baboons pillage yer lass?
No yer not!
Yer goin’ to drop yer anchor
an' battle for that nigh uncatchable ship.
But if ye be captured,
a faith worse than Davy Jones' Locker,
an' they say ‘walk the plank’
then you’ll walk that plank,
but ye’ll cross the seven seas to meet them again!
Storms they pass,
with lil' damage,
if ye just brace and stick it out
'Cos for the right ship,
ye do anythin'
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
See him wasted on the sidewalk, in his jacket and his jeans
Wearin' yesterday's misfortunes like a smile
Once he had a future, full of money love and dreams
Which he spent like they was goin' outta style
And he keeps right on a'changin', for the better or the worse
Searchin' for a shrine he's never found
Never knowin' if believin', is a blessin' or a curse
Or if the goin' up was worth, the comin' down
He's a poet, an' he's a picker, he's a prophet, an' he's a pusher
He's a pilgrim and a preacher, and a problem when he's ******
He's a walkin' contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction
Takin' ev'ry wrong direction on his lonely way back home
He has tasted good and evil, in your bedrooms and your bars
And he's traded in tomorrow for today
Runnin' from his devils Lord, and reachin' for the stars
And losin' all he loved, along the way
But if this world keeps right on turnin', for the better or the worse
And all he ever gets is older and around
From the rockin' of the cradle, to the rollin' of the hearse
The goin' up was worth, the comin' down
He's a poet, an' he's a picker, he's a prophet, an' he's a pusher
He's a pilgrim and a preacher, and a problem when he's ******
He's a walkin' contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction
Takin' ev'ry wrong direction on his lonely way back home
There's a lot of wrong directions, on that lonely way back home
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
Squint scurried.
From rooftop to rooftop,
He skipped and he flipped as he
Scrambled amongst the tiles,
The blur of slate was his domain,
As, through the haze of reckless speed,
The slowly revolving City
Did imprint upon his vision.
So that as his sly lids descended
Its outline he admired;
Its screaming centre he desired.
In the end even Squint cannot run forever.
So he will slow, and shade his eyes,
Catch his breath and gaze and sigh.
And when he’s had his fill of the sights and the smog.
Down he slides amongst the pipes
Of better folk; of harder folk,
Of those with Proper Names
Like ‘Welder’ and ‘Melder’
And ‘Roland’ and ‘Fairer’.
Names that came after a ‘Mr’,
A ‘Lord’ or a ‘Sister’.
Names that one Day he would have for his Own.
For in the Glass City, Names were always changin’ hands.
Squint.
Not much of a Name,
Even for one so young as he
It would seem he would deserve
A Name of much more worth
Than simple, humble ‘Squint’.
But Squint lived up to his Name.
He may look young and full of fun,
But crouch on a wall and you might just
Be appalled to see that not a moment after
Squint is left alone, his eyes will glitter.
And if any Man’s flesh could ever express such malicious scheming,
It was the writhing face of our humble Squint,
Once his eyeballs set to gleaming.
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC
i breathe out & the world is calm. we are standing waves in the sea. i am a long distance, a collection of lip movements, and all associated aches. you were a fleck of snow i barely even saw, and the ensuing onslaught of winter. plans turn around, often; we stick no closer to 'em than our moralities- i knew what i believed, just some other day: i believed i could roll out of the feeling of wakelessness that i'd thought you endowed upon my eyelids. you were prying them open, though, and i was the one at force. "sleep, my fears and doubts", i would call to myself -round midnight- "sleep and you may escape, or somehow come closer to what you're not sure if you seek".
but my plans, moralities and i, all ambiguous at best, changed. i can't pinpoint why. you said "maybe you can smell my dying, from all that way" i said i hoped not, that i could sense you but you just couldn't tell you were flourishing.
in the heat, i would make out daydreams like dialogue, spread sense like contrails: seemingly cohesive monuments to my bearing, left out to dissipate. snowfields on sunlit afternoons. but you, you you you you you, you stay heavy-stuck to the ground through cycling seasons. variation, only nondecreasing patterns in my everyday thought. inconsistence, only meaningful or meaningless. no pain, just ache all the same.
finally, in month's transitions, i found meaning (or its absence) and realised each was a facet of the other. that all facets were tiny jewels, set into the world, puzzle-piece mirrors set just. right., to reflect the gleaming bright pearl inset upon the other side of our tiny universe, each light another stroke of your portraiture, and i found longing: to find the unknown, through all things ordinary.
and you were, at once, more than a question-mark and the statement of my circles through days. you were the taste of waking, without sharp slice of reality. you were a mirror, hung in front of i, also reflecting; and i saw eternity unfold in us each. you were, and are still, peace on the shoreline. and i was, and am still, drowning, but i can make out sand on the horizonline.
so, i'll just keep afloat, if you can do the same.
so, i just won't go changin',
shine brighter with each passing day.
smile.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 6:05 AM UTC
Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who
That it's namin'
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin'. - Bob Dylan
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 4:04 AM UTC
Used to tell 'em not to cut my hair too short,
When I was young-old,
Nowadays I just tell him cut it short,
so it
Spikes...Yikes!
Makes me realize,
Vanity is one of my
Oldest friends,
And also, one of my
Oldest enemies.
I like Bob Dylan's songs,
Like him better these days,
When younger voices cover him,
And I hear his word-songs differently.
Oh I love to laugh,
Especially at myself,
Silly boy in the mirror,
Who the heck are you Grandpa?
I am,
The Times They Are-A-Changin'
Nowadays, I'm growing down
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 10:03 PM UTC
"O son, hark ye to the rainbird's call." Said father to son as the golden light spilled out the fireplace, casting their backs into darkness. "O son, hark ye to the rainbird's call, for when the rainbirds are a-comin' the times are a-changin."
Son's wide eyes soaked in the golden fireplace light and the sound of father's voice.
"O the rainbirds, they's a-comin'. They's call ain't like the call of no other bird. Yer a familiar with the warblings and the cawings and the baying's and the singing's of other birds. The rainbird, he don't sound like that. When the rainbird a comes a callin', you best be knowin' his sound. For he don't warble or caw or bay or sing, on no, he don't warble or caw or bay or sing. He's a makin' a different sound all together. O the rainbird, when he comes a callin' you'll a-know its him."
Father puffed long on a clay pipe, his voice accompanied by the sounds of a thousand night critters a-haunting the outside world with their chitin wings and nightmare fur and ebony eyes, shining through the night. O yes, father puffed long on a clay pipe.
"Son, when the rainbird calls. He drowns out the other birds, ya wont be hearin' no warbling or cawin' or bayin' or singing. When the rainbird a-opens his beak, all ye hear is a marked silence from the other birds. O they is still singing, mind you they is still singing, but that ******* the rainbird, he dun drown them out with his silent call. Son. That is how you know the rainbird's callin'."
The golden light kept a-burning, and the fire was a-crackling as the night was a runnin' over the valleys skies. And father kept a-talkin' and his pipe; he kept a-lightin'.
"Son, that is the sound of the rainbird's call. He don't call much round here in the valley, but when he does, you hear the times are a-changin'. And when the rainbird sings, o son! When the rainbird sings! He BELLOWS! And he SINGS! And the valley will shudder with his song. When he sings, the valley will shudder and the darkness will come, for he be callin' on all dem other rainbird's. And they be comin' and the sky will darken like night and they'll a come, like a cloud, they'll a come. And they's flappin' wings will a-shake and a shudder the valley, and they'll a **** lightning and his brethren, his brothers will a-light down and they be filling the valley with their rain and their **** and the times will be a changin. Oh they be a changing."
Son's ears heard the tale of the rainbird that father told him, son believed the tale father told him. He believed, for the night birds did suddenly fall silent all through the velvet darkness outside the shack, and the air was a markedly different thing from what it was before, and the fire sputtered as the rainbird called. It sputtered…it sputtered…it sputtered.
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 11:01 PM UTC
We are a bad design
For example;
A vain person disgusted with the same person in every reflection
What insane being had the unmitigated gall to be insertin' that complication into a person
Self-deprivation an infection of a mind nurtured from inception
Do I even need to mention the who, what, where, why and when of my formation
...I've heard it said over and over again...
It's the creator of all creation, although I don't know where they're getting their information
I've read Genesis through Revolutions over and over again, no revelation
A costly salvation, so much rejection for every little infraction
Never seen an open invitation with so much expectation
...not a single one of us are getting in...
We're designed to sin due to his lust for "discipline" lookin' down at the chaos with a menacing grin
A master of manipulation, the "do what I say not what I do" origin
If he's who we're based on then he's who the worst of you see in your reflection
"God is good" should be turned into a question though I understand the hesitation
...I know the fear it's based in...
Not even a good god adaptation, parts of old religion taken and added to your own doctrine
Each page of "his words" a contradiction of the last no matter the translation
It's always been, it's not just now going through a mutation
Under face value it's basic power retention, not somethin' they'll be changin'
...you're in for a rude awakenin'...
Be smart, search your mind not your heart, that's only for circulation
It's lifespan based on repetition, same mission as the Reverend and fellow brethren
This whole things a set up, a con, a lie that people won't stop spreadin'
And if the threat of eternal damnation is the only thing keepin' you from sinnin' then listen
...those morals are set by an immoral faction...
©2023
Dec 29, 2023
Dec 29, 2023 at 2:47 PM UTC
*** inta a funky blues roll
swing silent low piano
trippin down tinky tink keys
stumble the mumbled muffled horns
wha wha the humble orchastra roars
it swings a choo choo
tracks changin
bass a bumpin
du du du du
walkin through the room
Spoon croons a bellowed ballad
an Ella cat do a hair raisin ****
tink tink
you don't have ta think
you know what you feel
dis blues is fo real
For Prez
jbm
10/12/86
NYC
Music Selection:
Count Basie Band with
Ben Webster, Roy Eldridge and Jimmy Rushing
I Left My Baby
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 8:40 AM UTC
Things are changin
An I aint lyin
Theres much to be said
About public cryin
I say I cant
Open myself
You say you can't
so put me on a shelf
Now and then
it begins
and when I get started
seems we're parted
This place is full
of folks who write
Now for me its
gone, tonight
Cryin alone
Cut me to the bone
Not with words
Shunned me off alone
So ***** you
and the horse you
rode in on.
Jul 6, 2010
Jul 6, 2010 at 8:59 PM UTC
Seven days straight, the sun rolls up,always from the same
side of town and just the same way it gives up and lays down
The same buses run on the same old routes.
No letup.
So dream a dream.
Next day,instant replay.
Know what ? I know the drill
Sunday.is like Halloween, Rubber faces and trick or treat with Reverend Ike.
Fire and brimstone. Please turn down ya cell phones.Pass the plate.
payola to heaven's gate.
Monday.Back on the grind, Blood,sweat and tears.
Grinding mental gears.Pop the clutch,Earn so little
Pay so much.
Tuesday.? just locked in. The Lotto is calling, cant win if ya dont play.
Teasin me bout easy street. Gimme my lump sum Then watch me fly.
Keep missin me with that later, greater noise.
Keep it real son.
Wednesday. Looking of into the sunset now.All ****** up
getting up for the down-stroke.Sweat of my brow. Feel me NOW ?
Take a deep breath blow out slow. If you dont tell it then the devil wont know.
Thursday. Gettin closer to shore,Go for your backstroke cause yer starting to
fade. In through the mouth and out through the nose focus your gaze on the
circling crows? Crows ?
Friday. Ah snap yer ends came up short. Tax man just waxin yer ***
Ghoulish?. Foolish. Some ends might not meet.
Sat-Day. Not so fat day. Pullin pocket lint by 6.PM.Chump changin.
is changin your mind. Gettin glimpses of stressin the old bump and grind On Moanday. ****
expletive deleted.
Stun-day. Hungday?
Rake your sh%@t in a pile day ?
No Doubt Assed out.
Hello... Monday.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 1:39 AM UTC
Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’
Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won’t come again
And don’t speak too soon
For the wheel’s still in spin
And there’s no tellin’ who that it’s namin’
For the loser now will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin’
Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a battle outside and it is ragin’
It’ll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’
Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don’t criticize
What you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly agin’
Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin’
The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is rapidly fadin’
And the first one now will later be last
For the times they are a-changin’
Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
A second ago I was 1 hour younger, I remember it well.
The few gray hairs that I have accumulated atop my head, were not there pas' a moment,
This wrinkle in time adding yet another wrinkle to my brow, I have become wiser for it.
My innocence of youth has been unfairly taken, Oh how I long for the days of yestersecond.
I remember the clock set back to maybe a millimeter, my prostate was not quite this large,
And congress with my wife seemed to last for hours, but now mere minutes leaves me spent.
We used to jump into bed and sleep in the **** seems just an instant ago, but now
The coldness of aging has us encased in flannel pajamas, we sleep dreaming of yestersecond.
I awoke this morning to a brighter outside, the early birds singing, off kilter, unfamiliar;
Not synchronous at all with my hot cup of Kona, I scratch my chin anew with stubble.
For in such a short time, the moon waved forlornly goodbye, the sun bid faintly hello.
Mr. Meowgii, my cat, chasing the birds outside, thankful for the passing gift of yestersecond.
My kids, now practically grown, (9 & 13 +60 minutes) I envision car keys being handed over,
Challenges to my authority, relationships of their own, with the passage of this long hour.
"For The Times; They Are A-Changin" - Dylan -, though now for a clock he would sing.
A hiccup in the fabric of the space time continuum, indigestion of memories made I search.
Looking forward, come October late fall, when we all can regress, yet again,
Reclaiming what we have lost, one hour from yestersecond.
-----ChawzzyScript
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
The Man in the Moon will be leavin’ soon
Officially, he retired.
But Polaris and some other stars
Are saying he got fired
The Man in the Moon would never leave
Of his own volition.
Management, cutting back on costs,
Is phasing out his position.
His quarterly reviews have not been going very well,
They say he isn’t any good with change.
When he gives his full attention, he seems to do ok,
But lately he’s been acting kind of strange,
His bosses claim he sleeps all day.
And on cloudy nights, he stays away,
(It’d be age discrimination if they said he’s getting old)
So they say that he won’t listen and won’t do as he is told.
They say because he has seniority,
That he resents authority,
Won’t show his new boss how the job is done,
And in their final summary, out of ten, they gave him three,
Said that he doesn’t hold a candle to the sun.
But those of us who know his work
Know he would never, ever shirk
Responsibility, or jobs that must be done -
At night when he works overtime,
Countless souls look up to him, but
At night they’ll never, ever, see the sun.
If The Man in the Moon is told to leave
Our lives will be amiss,
So I took a poet’s initiative
To make management a list:
Reasons Not to Fire the Man in the Moon
Who will watch young lovers kiss?
Who will push and pull the tides?
Who will occupy the space
Where The Man in the Moon resides?
Who will tell the farmer when it’s time to plant his field?
Who will lead the eclipse when the sun needs lunar shield?
Who will be the subject of songs and nursery rhymes?
Who will notify the werewolf when it’s his changin’ time?
Who will calm the sailors after stormy nights at sea?
Who will make a silhouette of an owl in the tree?
Who will light the children’s path each All Hallows’ Eve?
Who would raise vampires from their coffins
Were The Man in the Moon to leave?
I ask these questions with a plea
Knowing that, if it were up to me
And I had the power to blunt the cutter’s knife,
We’d leave the Earth and Heavens as they’ve been for all these years,
And The Man in the Moon would have his job for life.
PwL 5/24/15w
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
The times they are a changin',
Algorithms are modern cupids
Generated and perfected by...
Matchmaking computer whizzkids.
Log-in details now the key to love,
Name, gender, age and location
Algorithmed and matched to...
A potential subject of affection.
But I met my wife on a drinking spree,
On the dancefloor and on a mission
Wine and music combining freely...
Generating the perfect alco-rhythm.
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 6:13 PM UTC
*
from all of the demons i am fightin'
i myself am the biggest one of them
'cause out of all of those trials sent by Him
none of them as bein' as frightenin'
that choice be upon me where to headin'
tho roads are made able by only Him
onto which desire shall i chase a whim
when knowin' does make life more uplightenin'
forever condemned by my strides within
knowin' myself needin' to be workin'
for when i shall change my mind of thinkin'
owin' none but positive vibes all-in
'cause yes indeed, my own devil am i
but not when changin' visions of my eyes
**
..love always...*
عرفان بن يوسف © AH 23/04/1437
**
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 11:08 AM UTC
beat poet
the lines, the times
they are a changin'
entropy of empathy
the anthem won't explain it
the world just keeps on turning
and warming up the globe
nations of hate hotter than warheads
hate ain't what they pay us for
be a boss but don't be bossy,
boxing in a corner lot
everyones a leader
leading no one
supply and demand spinning pulsar-fast
economies based on wars
collapsing under peacetime
without fires
the lobbies smothered fighters
beat poet
the lines, the times
they are a changin'
entropy of empathy
the anthem won't explain it
inflation cannot haul us up
here at the bottom of the heap
can't even afford the beep
beep that tells us what's wrong in our hearts
medical bills ticking higher numbers than volumes of get-well cards
we're under attack
our changing family pact
beat poet
the lines, the times
they are a changin'
entropy of empathy
the anthem won't explain it
spoken word, short form
bytes from sharpened canines
written word, formatted to the dimensions of our icons
glittering oh one around us in the haze
our might in roaming-charged clouds of war
you can burn the papers
ban the books
we weren't writing in your margins anyway
our beat is undrummed, uncensored by you
language we took, righteous and true
and the ideas we kept to hurl out
our aim would be true
shout now
aim for us, beat poets
beat poet the times they are a changin'
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
Mind elevation, spiritual transformation, divine creation, scientific contemplation, meditation focused, inner-chi explosive, heart and soul ancient, lyrically be amazin, intellect cravin, answers to QUESTions revealed, a vigintillion miles per nano-second thrill, killin ignorance, study is heaven-sent, militant consistant, break out of submission, the matrix, no fake **** which pill u takin, everything be changin, so which way u steppin, be conscious of ur decision, due time for persision, open up the third eye, stop sufferin and win the fight, cause all it is is recognize,, the one in the way is no one but eye n eye! YOU in the mirror, wake up with no fear! The time ain't near it's NOW! Strap them boots on, and USE YOUR POWER! Practice makes perfect, I know all y'all heard it, regardless of how u word it, all them isms are limits, don't deny u did it, this is ur chance to grow and not repeat it, dont fake the funk, and wake the &@#$ up! And stop to think before u speak...there aint no revolution without revelation...get outta that box of stagnant repetition...WAKE UP!!!
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 12:19 AM UTC
I was asked the question
“who do I read”
well, there's nobody special
that's not what I need
am I here to seek pointers
no, not at all
the way that I write
it's not been my call
I simply write down
the words that I'm given
then share them with others
you know, the folks who be livin'
so correct if you must
that's if it makes you feel better
punctuation and spelling
right down to the letter
but I won't be changin'
anytime soon
so I hope you don't mind
I'll keep singin' my tune
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 2:33 PM UTC
Skipping class, ****** off his ***
Never showed and never passed
Teacher was teachin' it
But Dylan never needed it,
Writ to his own beat
And now he's free wheelin' it
On down the road
A heavy moss laden load
Sixty-one routes
And that stone keeps a-rollin',
The times keep a-changin'
The river keeps flowin'
Rainy day women
And legalized growin'
Bob cantcha spare,
A nickle or rhyme?
A solid gold medal,
Nobel poet sublime?
Sing us a song
Jingle jangle along
The Luckiest Wilbury
In the Wilbury throng
Singin' so right
It must be wrong
Keep doin' your thang
You'll never get gonged
May 22, 2021
May 22, 2021 at 11:34 PM UTC