"cruisin" poems
Everyones chillin’
Groovy tunes rollin’
Lowriders cruisin’
Then your loud *** comes along
Takin’ up space
Yours and mine
Wreckin’ smooth
Pushin’ your own groove
"Donk in charge"
No votes necessary
Everythin’ sighs
Bubble on the mic
Doin’ your business
All over the room
Box store cut-ass mule
Nothin’ but unwoke noise
Blow Bull Horn
© 2019 MJL
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 11:28 PM UTC
Gorgeous blue skies
Disneyland magic
World of Color
Pacific cruisin'
Beverly Hills bravado
Venice Beach eccentrics
Celebrities' celestial abodes
California Screamin'
Yet it's for you I'm dreamin'
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 9:03 PM UTC
At 2:40 the school bell rings,
I hurry up and grab all my things,
With subtle haste I sprint away,
Holy heck I can't wait 'till May,
I hop in my Honda and turn the key,
I drift my whip as it occurs to me:
Nobody else is home but me.
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 2:14 PM UTC
What do they mean, this actor-as-if and the never-did, or says-he -never-did, sacrifice or sacred be made?
Primal, on to logic, come reason.
The artifice of sacrifice,
whatever necessitated making sacred a thought?
a sign for a time when words fail,
if words were to fail again,
in confusion after war,
this sign says
trust. Yes, such a sign. By this know us,
fret not, good news... not here...
secret. Sh.
Suffice to say sacrifice means more and less than most
Jordan Peterson /Sam Harris fans would act as if they believe
but, to live as if
be live
me
that's new at every opportunity, pay real close attention,
a safe zone, far from that same madding crowd…
(occluded allusion,
The Classic Far From The Madding Crowd Movie)
I see that crazy dog herd the sheep over the cliff, and I cringe
I cringed then, in the dark.
I was holding your hand but I've forgotten your name,
thanks for dropping by.
Tell Sis hi.
still
be live in the home
a safe zone, far from any madding crowd…
clouds are aloud
contrast to the blues and greens and puples and yes
keepemkeepemkeepem AI wantemferwampum
yeah, this part is
wat do you say? crazy weird need you add **** crazyshit weird ****
if you were a platypus, just cruisin' playin' hunt with hi-tech
magneto-electro-gravitonal sensors, in a pre release, like alpha
version of the proteins involved
And you find your way back to where you once belonged
blocked by a thing named a weir,
it 'lows water through, but not you.
What do you do?
the mud settles you, scout around,
an unhearable sound
an unfeelable touch,
a final beacon, repeating the final news from platypus you,
it worked. dis encorporation all gone rhythm engaged.
Est. system reliable against all obstacles: .166 billion years
by the measure of the man, who was the angel
rolling the rock back up the hill.
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
a hot little betty
the engine ran quick an hot
and the miles did run by
a hot little betty
my little red coupe put so much highway behind me
that thought the world would run outa road
my little hot betty sweet and cool
ran so much highway
that thought road had become dream
so smooth her wheel
and she handles pavement like a lover
she handles road like they good ole boys
lookin for a sweet peice
so easy to ride em
so easy to tool up one side and stroll down the other
thats my little red coupe
my little betty
dressed all in black
like johhny cash
dressed like im gong to a funeral
from my neatly trimmed hair
to my black dress shoe
im a natural behind the wheel
im a natural at everythin i do
im a hot engine lover
a cool customer
and tonight you can find me out on route 66 of the soul
in my little betty
in my little red coupe
cruisin the moonlight mile
lookin for a girl like you to take the co-pilot seat
and look so drop dead betty boop
in my little red coupe
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 7:59 PM UTC
Romance on the road
Watch as the story unfolds
Truck Driver Mike has a wife at home
But he is constantly on the road, so there is always a possibility of roam
It was on Interstate 95 Truck stop called “Resting Easy”
Truck driving Mike met Susan, but known on the highway as Cruisin Sue
It was love at the rest pit
There are all kinds of words that would fit
Yet Mike and Susan became a couple that was it
At one point, they were driving traveling together
Mike and Susan were inacceptable like no other
They were even known on the road
The blinking truck headlights were always a signal of behold
Meanwhile, Mike’s wife often wondered if there was something going on with Mike
Mike’s wife name being Jennifer often felt uptight
Then later, there was suspicion with evidence being a clue
Jennifer was determined she had a divorce papers that need to pursue
When Mike came back from traveling on the road, he did confess
Yet Mike’s wife could care less
Jennifer decided she was ready to move on
She was going to let Mike continue trucking along
Jennifer felt a new beginning is where she belonged
Cruisin Sue and Mike finally got married
How long did the marriage last, I won’t tell
I will just let your heart swell
Keep on truckin with on the road again.
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 9:59 AM UTC
He's Uncle John to you, but John to the rest of us
Got a way of telling stories without the fanfare or the fuss
He can jump into any conversation, has a lot of stuff to say
and every bit is interesting 'cause that always been John's way.
There was one about his summer job before 1970,
paid to push a Swan-shaped boat off a dock in Asbury
With a grapple hook on a ten foot pole, or something of that sort
well he'd push 'em out and pull 'em in wasn't doing it for sport~
The same guy who owned the swan boats, tunneled love across the way
twice a week John worked the darkness, but preferred the light of day.
Played rhythm at the Upstage in band called 'Cory' later
workin' Perkins in West Belmar, took the name from the percolator
Around that time he grew his hair out, it was like an Afro-sheen
mistaken for Tinker, a surfboard chinker and drummer with Springsteen.
Cruisin' down around Brookdale in his '39 LaSalle
Met 'Stinky' Tink at Thompson Park, where he was singing with his pal
Hey John, you look like Tinker,
but now you favor Gere
a live ringer for Mike Richards,
and don't forget DeNir-
Oh, if you can't remember anything from 40 years ago
just ask your Uncle John who knows the time in Tokyo.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 5:57 AM UTC
Cruisin' across the Sahara in my 1952 Cadillac,
I was singing along to a song, thinking about Jack Kerouac.
Coming over the next rise, I never expected to see,
Such a conflagration of Walruses looking back at me.
Passing a lone daisy under the sun set on broil,
They were making their way across the big sandy soil.
Thoughts evolving and revolving inside of my brain,
Led me to believe I might be under a bit of a strain.
Searching for my bottle of purified mineral water,
I quenched my thirst and prayed for no less than an hour.
That these visions of sea mammals would quickly pass.
And leave me to sing songs in my old Cadillac.
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 11:09 AM UTC
I've got the rhythm, but don't look anythang like a Nashvillian soul
Been living on the streets, so I ain't been on any **** census role
I'm not my mother's natural birth child, without any apology
But I’m god’s chosen and gifted, finger picking, guitar prodigy
Sun lights up the whole **** town, whilst it's still night-time
So, save your smoke doping act, 'til the dark of the daytime
CUCKUK, CUCKUK, cruisin' down some unnamed highways
That's what y’all be not knowin', 'bout da Tennessee ways
My Mama once said, just do your music or do something else
So, I'm legally insane and uncomfortable to be with, I guess
I don't actually see myself living anywhere forever
But, how'd ya know, that you've actually arrived, wherever
Sun lights up the whole **** town, whilst it's still night-time
So, save your smoke doping act, 'til the dark of the daytime
CUCKUK, CUCKUK, cruisin' down some unnamed highways
That's what y’all be not knowin', 'bout da Tennessee ways
If they don't ever remember the month or day, since leaving
Families gettin' together, telling lies, now police intervening
I sometimes have to forget that I wrote it, to be able to like it
As long as fans think dope of it, why bother to disable the ****
Hoed fresh corn all day, everyday, been up since the crack of dawn
Pretty plenty of backyard swamp talkin' catfish, have since been born
Sun lights up the whole **** town, whilst it's still night-time
So, save your smoke doping act, 'til the dark of the daytime
CUCKUK, CUCKUK, cruisin' down some unnamed highways
That's what y’all be not knowin', 'bout da Tennessee ways
He'd hit a rabbit a sittin' and killed it with the barrel of his gun
While the dang hammer was a peckin' a wild hog to death
Like gettin' outta control and hardly takin' a shot of breath
Or being a drunken redneck, on a 7 day weekend hillbilly whiskey run.
Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 10:48 PM UTC
Its like I sit and watch the world go by cruisng to oldies,
feeling new inside, but outside is a face of a man who will attack if you dont know me.
gut instinct is below me homie, piece of mind,
dont change your words if you cant cash the truth but besides that...
See im not perfect I lost ties and made knots that made me fall from my own tension with no intentions to stand even if I can, I cant, im grounded by my mistakes that relvolve around me, reminding me what I did made me what I am.
AS I stay subsiding in a position thats clearily hiding,
binding my chest compressed against my last breath , to save what little life I have left in a world where title nor status mean nothing when your an ******* to those you called your best interest I do confess im that lowlife as i cruise still music speak to my esscense releiving me for those seconds im just a person again but after that im back at it again
..I dont write for pitty so let that be known, im just here to vent this steam that once stood ablazed passion for a love that is now a shack of memories in my head of your smile and gestures a feeling I onced called home now ruins from what i ruined, foolish I am.
Clueless more than anything to let many so many slip away im the worst fisherman of love.
because I use my soul as bait, and little by little i let the big ones escape an take chunks of me away to a place I can never retrieve it, so believe it im that space
im that vessle ive became the shell of a hermit , hollow and skirmish.
Tarnished, and used,
debri left as rubble to make roads,
but none to pave my own cause I have no resources
cause im that alone....shit,
maybe I can just leave it for those who wish me back if I do something foolish like giveback the life Ive live, for a plaque and a name and a date?
or should I just lookback and keep cruisin passed the bruissin and showin scars of my mistakes as a human,
all I know is....nothing,
and thats why I stay cruissin, freedom of the road and music,
away from the world and my ruins.
-Deep Though aka
Linguist Musician
aka Emmanuel Hernandez
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 10:46 PM UTC
Im tired of all these prancing dancing ****
Id rather see them all in bodybags
While i puff zigzags cruisin slow in my jag
Looking for more this ******* ready for war
Look what they doing to kids
******* em up before they learn to walk n talk
But i bat out that ********
Yea i might get haters but i dont give a ****
**** you and your agendas
Now every ****** here me i knowya fear me
Cuz im revolutionary i aint scary
To speak my mind **** your pride
Ill slide this chrome upside ya dome
Id rather see yall like orlando in a funeral home
Flag my **** i dont care
Im sick of this madness i got kids
Who gotta deal with this **** on a daily basis
Got me seeing faces of death til my last breath
Imma keep exposing this **** ******* hypocrites
How ya gonna be a gay christian
When it goes against the Most Highs teaching im reaching
Deep into the pits of hell where my soul on earth dwells
They got every nation embracing
Ya **** but africa deny it
Thanks to Obama a hidden ******* ****
Michelle is really man yall know this
So stop acting new to this
***** and Gemorrah aint no ****** fairytale
Though i may be jail but ill still.make bail
All ya see is my enemies in pain as they h
Yell
I got the power of the panther
And the Most Highs army riding with me
Cuz i fear em
But never satan ya only fallin into his death traps
And they laughing at you
While yall fighting to **** each others *****
N chicks so they each others ***** ****
They gone hit ya with a snipers bullet
Know the art of war once the gore comes
Watch how many panic and run
Then theyll claim they have religion to back em.up
But aint nobody gonna hear ya
When ya throwin up
Mad blood i seen many peeps die for a lie
So if you problem with the way i spin
It off my tongue
**** you and you ****** loving muthaphukkas
I cant stand yall with a passion
Im blastin
Like a runaway gun yall wont hearme when i come
For death best moments are done in silent violence *****
Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 3:23 PM UTC
I love the way you make me feel
When we meet I'd love to Netflix and chill
We'd spend time with each other inside
Then we'd hit the road and go for a ride
You and me cruisin
Taking my ride out for a spin
People looking and saying, "Wow they look fly."
And you can believe that cuz you're: My Cutie Pie
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 1:25 AM UTC
Who doesn't remember Tony Lama
& those flashy pearl buttons,
cruisin' down the streets in torn jeans,
shirts unbuttoned to flat-navels
revealing sprouting chest hairs.
The disco ball twirled dance-magic,
along with the beach sounds
of sweet soothing melodies,
the ones that made you want
to sunbath covered
in Banana Boat oil.
A little bit of grease
went a long ways,
while warring with stars,
we got drunk in the bars,
sometimes got lucky in our cars
dreaming of better days
that weren't too great after all.
I miss those simple dates,
the ones without
immediate gratification
based on
the grand designs of
computer-aged
mobility.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 11:37 AM UTC
Cruisin' the highway of life
Nothing can get in my way
Radio up, tunes I adore
I couldn't ask for anything more
Suddenly, I start to swerve
Euphoric poison jostles my nerves
I'm losing control, and I can't feel
Somebody please take the wheel
It started as a bit of fun
The race unfinished I had won
Soon enough I'd sense false glory
Would I live to tell my story?
Somebody catch me, I'm falling
Harsh realities now appalling
Don't you know I could be bawling
Instead these words I'm duly scrawling
A million projects unfinished
Sense of time diminished
Sentiments overdue
Self-assuredness gone askew
Perhaps the most productive time
Still I would rather be just fine
Than pacing, racing, sleep deprived
Just glad I made it out alive
In the midst of all this rambling
I'm sure glad I'm not out gambling
Not for money, but survival
Bless my sanity's revival
First came the ocean's bottom
Next, the top of the world
Then, I was numb, dead
Now I am myself instead
At first it was a paradox
I couldn't understand
Drugs meant to resurrect me
Could render me so bland
But that was just a phase
The gilded Age was brief
Not long 'fore I could smell fresh air
Salt's not a stealthy thief
The seasons change
Friends come and go
But I outlast
And won't let go
To anyone who's in a bind
Keep fighting, see it through
There's sunshine once the clouds are gone
It's waiting there for you.
post nubila phoebus
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 2:57 PM UTC
always thought his word was an earwig,
never thought I could get stepped on like a twig
under his feet
don't need to be from the street
to know what it's like to write rhymes in the back seat.
cop car cruisin'
make a call with cuffs on
seeing me struggle gives the officer a hard on.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 3:15 PM UTC
It's like my life is stuck in slow motion.
An iceberg floating in the ocean.
With no real sense of direction.
Cruisin' by without detection.
Without purpose.
A taxi is just a car when it's not in service.
Worthless...
Depending on how you view it.
Living is a privilege, depending on how you do it.
So what's it mean?
Being that my life is in yellow while the rest of the world seems to be in green?
Green as in go.
Yellow as in slow.
Eventually we all hit red though.
And everything comes to halt.
Suddenly life flashes before your eyes.
Memories storm our minds.
Then we think back, about those who we have left behind.
And vice-versa.
But its too late for any reconciliation.
Now death is the sole recipient for any form of anticipation.
So we are left to question..
Where is my next destination?
A paradise in the sky, or an eternity of damnation?
That's assuming there is life after death.
Honestly, I don't know if there is.
I don't know if I want to know.
What I know is that there is a red light down the road.
But then again..
I don't need a light to tell me when to stop, slow, or go.
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 6:41 PM UTC
I was born to weigh heavy on your mind
my umbilical was lyrical live feed
inception was the spark
I been latent for too long
cruisin like Noah's ark
but I never chucked the deuces
just been patiently waiting to find my muses
next generation wake up
I heard they raised the stakes up
you feel the pressure
benchmarks been set
barometers there to measure
your progress
ingress
degression
can you feel it
expectations by the pound
you're drowning but is it real yet
concealed tech
he's got death at his hands
the sad part
lil' homie don't even understand
that a bullet's finality
teen homicide has become a normality
I'm on this verse tryna defy a mentality
I hope you heard
tryna defy a mentality
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
Cruisin' convertible, top down.
Feeling fine, feeling fly;
That is until, of course
I get something in my eye.
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
Driving the beach
father, daughter ***** jokes
mom is not pleased.
That's how things go
now, we haven't been to this particular beach before
every year, we go to a little island called Chincoteague
that I spell differently every time I type it
and apparently, it was a little dull
so now we're on Virginia Beach
well, the less populated arm of the place
We're a half an hour away from Virginia Beach proper
and so Mom,
Dad,
and I,
went cruisin'
gawking at things
and girls
See, Dad gets that I like girls
well, girls and boys,
but I don't ogle boys
anyway
and the ***** jokes we make are great
I tell ya,
I want to **** him 3/4 of the time,
but the man is funny as hell
We see a Ben and Jerry's
Hey Christine, want a bj?
Oh Pa, you know me too well!
Guysssss Stopppppp (that one was groaned by my mom, she doesn't do that nonsense)
(She does a lot of nonsense, and it's funny too)
(But Dad isn't really my friend)
(So I guess this is weird)
Driving the beach
father, daughter ***** jokes
mom is not pleased.
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 8:55 AM UTC
Might I fly high
Beyond your envisioned sky?
Beyond conceptual ties
That bind blind guys.
I'll take back what the modern man lacks:
A soul and a heart.
A nice place to start,
For a spirit to depart,
Venture deep into art.
Canvas spills upon your body,
Define your form among'st fog;
A confusion, a situation losin',
This lane, that lane, the lost man's cruisin'.
A vision of division - a tangled mind angle.
You could see what I bring to the table.
A way back to what we lack..
Might you ask what it is when I say that?
How about a dinner and snack
Where you don't want something
And there's no news story to crack..
Just the heart I know, that person I need,
A star, a distant glow.
What we need is a hardy hearth;
Gather round the sound enveloped in the crowd.
Lose your mind and align, dance blissful all night~
To the rhythm of the time.
Or how about abundance
A huge human party, one that-
Every one's invited to, whether your purple, black, or blue.
Battered and bruised by history's screws..
A machine we built and a boat we'll tilt;
A seed that will bloom..
And a flower that will wilt.
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
Where was you when I fell , how cliche of a statement to tell,
no! Where was you ? Not here aparently,
seems like yesturday, another cliche,
**** it! I can rhyme all day.
I just need to know whats the point of money?
I GET IT, I loose it, i spend it , I abuse it.
I dont want it but I need it, Is money air?
Cos I dont wanna breathe Im stressed from the atmosphere making me share.
I rather be ghost watch time fly by , maybe write a book to tell about my times travel,
about love from afar, how its pure but scared,
Have it published then be awarded rubish, cos there no success or achievement when you see the half cup cruisin the highway and you decide to *** in it.
LIFE How its concieved , how I precieve it ? IS newspaper Id keep under table to stop wobbling.
Am I rude, yeah, and unconventional so?
Im used to the self sabotage and abuse as a noose to climb up different challenges just to call a truce.
By EMMANUEL jv Hernandez
Aka Linguist musician
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 12:20 AM UTC