"flyin" poems
Birds are flyin' south for winter.
Here's the Weird-Bird headin' north,
Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin',
Cold head bobbin' back 'n' forth.
He says, "It's not that I like ice
Or freezin' winds and snowy ground.
It's just sometimes it's kind of nice
To be the only bird in town."
12.7k
Now, I'm here to tell a story
Bout some lessons learned shawty
I got me a tough crew, know what um sayin
We played da diss game, slaydum
Not one a da crew, brought da game shame
First, I dubbed myself Kang
I'm good, true! But didn't mean a thang
Then coughed ma gural Sumpim
She got da club thumpin
Put her own style in da game, bra
We still thuggin? Na!
She first coughed a little gural princess
Kicked in the castle, copped the Queen's dress
Took the crown, made her own success
Her rhymes get the heart pumpim
Much respect to me gural Somthin
Next, little siss picked up the mike
Jumped on the tandem, started peddlin the bike
Shawty's rhymes hit dem in da face
She rhymed like a **** dresses in satin an lace
Mad props out to my siss, Madison grace
I was alone, like a stand a timber
**** Forest on fire with Diein Ember
Laid down rhymes so tight
He'd have my back in any fight
I gotta thank ma boyyy
Gangstan whichu was a flippin joy
Otta nowhere swaggs a tru Gansta chick
Bustin rhymes en droppin dimes like she was Slick Rick
Wedyan be da real trick! Thanks gural slick
Finally, swooped the dark Raven
Rollin on 22's gatz a blazzin
Loyall to da shawtys
Flyin like a bomber on sorties
Droppin posers to der knees
Makin succaass beg, brotha please
To all ya all I got ta tell ya
Would I do it again, hell ya
Um movin on to a new gig
Pull off my crown, plop on a wig
To ya readers out dare got some advice
Giv it a spit, it's Gangsta's Paradise!!!
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 10:44 PM UTC
What did you say to me?
How did you say to be?
Scent of the flowers sweet,
I fell off the path; the beat.
Metamorphoses buzzing creep.
Bumblebee, Bumblebee
Nectar pollen and wiggle-dance,
Tear off the shirt and pants,
Without it I’m incomplete,
Rotting in self-defeat,
Awashed in a wild sea,
Bumblebee, Bumblebee
Buzzin’ so high and flyin’
Honeycomb drunken Mayan,
Falling west, rising east,
The party will not surcease,
While I am the Bumble-beast!
Bumblebee, Bumblebee
I am the Bumblebee,
Bumblebee, Bumblebee
I am the Bumblebee
The flight it takes off and from,
As flowers of life become,
Praying up to the Sun,
What am I imagining? (image-gen-nun)
August vino de lum
Bumblebee, Bumblebee
Bumblebee, Bumblebee
I am the Bumblebee,
Bumblebee, Bumblebee
I am the Bumblebee
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 5:07 PM UTC
Motel moons, left of face
In room 12, a thing named Grace
She's missing ***** & he's missing eggs-
Band-Aids on the neck
Royal Hawaiian
Big Ad's A-Flyin' (Bye!)
Cowboys in black dusters
And aliens in track suits
Drinking coffee with the common man
Blue-hooded and faceless, walks by again
Third-reel-real headshot,
Kept as a souvenir by an FBI actor
A man can do a lot with his chin
Uncle Sam's tonic & gin
Not made to be an Earthling
Not fit to be an alien
Stars are flickering lights
On Big Empty nights
Three days in the desert
Minus pie sauce in the sky
What's in the blue suitcase?
Why the blue bowling shoes to get to that place?
"Just get on the bus, Gus...
... And get yourself free"
Blue-sky clouds on black
Whipped cream & jack
The United States of Aliens
And a Person in a circle
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 9:19 PM UTC
The flames be flyin' hot tonight,
so the horns be heatin' up just right!
Skeep-deep-do-bop-bee-bop-do-skeetle-scat-woo-woo, hell-bop-ba-ska-da fra-la-la-la-la-la-la-foo-foo, yous,
look-see-dee-wee-boys doin' da voodoo,
look-see-dee-wee-girls playin' wid hoodoo.
Cuz, I'm a scat-man,
it's a fat fact ma'am!
Yeah, I'm a scat-man,
it's a fat fact ma'am.
And I dun gives a ****
if there's no reason to the scat-plan.
If you come across the fancy bowler hat,
dun be afraid to start stuttering the big skat:
Batta-tat-tat looksee-da-flat-uncool-rat
givin' his square-eyed-glare to-the-scat-cats ~meow~
skee-shee-flyin'-the-sillee like a banshee,
singin' sillee-skee-shee-all-fancee-free -
and we putssss on the br(e)ak(e)s
just
like thissssssss (!)
and
in h a l e ....
Go! Go! GO!
Skeep-deep-do-bop -bee- bop-do-skeetle-scat-woo-woo,
hell-bop ba-ska-da fra-la-la-la-la-la-la-foo-foo,
look-see-dee-wee-boys doin' da voodoo,
look-see-dee-wee-girls playin' wid-hoodoo.
Yeah, I'm a scat-man,
it's a fact ma'am! x2
Yeah, I'm a scat-man,
it's a fact ma'am.
Jul 31, 2012
Jul 31, 2012 at 6:35 PM UTC
"Cash, Grass or Ass-No One Rides Free!"
reads the bumper-sticker slapped on the ratty Harley.
Its black leather seat is cracked, tattered and torn,
the headlight is busted and there's no friggin' horn;
with mismatched saddlebags strapped to each side,
the panhead leaks like a sieve, but it's still quite a ride.
The gas-tank is dented, scratched and coated with muck,
the chrome no longer shines, but who gives a flyin' ****
Its tires are bald, the spokes are all rusted to ****
and the frame is off-kilter from a cage-driver's hit.
The biker just puffed the last hit from his pipe,
slammed down the rest of the J.D. from the bash last night;
then he hops on his hog, kicks the monster to start,
the muffler-pipes blast flames and roar like a ****
Together they roll down the road like old pals,'
with nowhere to go, just obnoxious and loud:
the tombstone tail-light flashes bright red on this mess,
'though Cashless, Grassless and Assless, they couldn't care less!
Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 1:34 AM UTC
There's a creek I used to see
When I was young
I'd go there to think
It calmed my mind
See the girls were all yelling
And it made it all cloudy
And the boys were all calling
And it made it all rowdy
My mind was a castle for them to play in and stay in.
I wasn't tired yet but cried from all the savin
There's a Brook I used to go to
When I was older
I'd go there to kiss
It gave me more time
See the boys were all touching
And it made me afraid
And this one boy he cared
And we held hands and stayed
My heart was a labyrinth for them to search in.
I wasn't wild yet but tired from all the ridin.
There's a river I used to go to
When I got a little older
I'd go there to lie
It treated me kind
See the men were all looking
And it made me so scared
And the one boy he left
And I had only scars left
My body was a object for them to play with.
I wasn't dying yet but wild from all the givin
There's a lake I still go to
Now that I'm older
I go there to sink
It lets me pass the time
See the people all are passing
And it makes me look down
And I've been alone so long
And I'm tired of changing
My soul is a tomb for them to lay in
I'm not dead yet but dying from all the cravin
But in the winter it gets colder
The lake freezes up
No one sees me as I walk holding my cup
I breathe it in and someone whispers to me deeply
"Honey we're all flyin through life, so stay an evening"
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
De Camptown ladies sing dis song -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
De Camptown racetrack five miles long -- Oh! doo-dah day!
I come down dah wid my hat caved in -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I go back home wid a pocket full of tin -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Chorus
Gwine to run all night! Gwine to run all day!
I'll bet my money on de bob-tail nag -- Somebody bet on de bay!
De long tail filly and de big black hoss -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Dey fly de track and dey both cut across -- Oh! doo-dah day!
De blind hoss sticken in a big mud hole -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Can't touch bottom wid a ten foot pole -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Chorus
Old muley cow come on to de track -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
De bob-tail fling her ober his back -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Den fly along like a rail-road car -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Runnin' a race with a shootin' star -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Chorus
Seen dem flyin' on a ten mile heat -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Round de race track, den repeat -- Oh! doo-dah day!
I win my money on de bob-tail nag -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I keep my money in an old tow-bag -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Chorus
2.3k
This is in dedication to Mr. John Grant a spokesman
for Veterans for Peace local 31. When during the late Bush years we protested the Bushy Zombies in West Chester
Pa. This took place every Saturday from early morning till
around 4 or 5 pm. He keep saying, "They're drinking the cool-aid."
P.S. Veterans for Peace is also national and is registered
under the U.N. with its own magazine. This was poem was written in 2010
Besides it has a rap beat to it
Lies ah decieven' our minds ah believen'
by ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny-fudge
Drive-by ah flyin' innocent babes ah dyin',
while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny-fudge
Blacks against slavery racists say lazy,
Jim Crow ah knowin', black vote ah growin',
voter lines ah showen', black suppression ah growin',
while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny-fudge
Mr. sweater vest advisin' theocracy risin' ( Rick ********
gays cannot marry his heavy-load to carry,
all Muslims are targets by his government harlots,
body meedlers of women, no rights he has proven
by ah drinkin' his cool-aid and eatin' funny-fudge
Mexican Border right-wingers disorder,
Jail complexes growin', their profits showin',
public schools no maintain', corporate zombie schools gainin',
while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge
Corporations are people super-vote-money inclusion,
Super Pacs' delusion, Democracy illusion,
while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny-fudge
Profits by Lockheed Martin perpetual wars embarkin',
wars appeasin' without good reason,
while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge
No good reason callin' Wikkeleaks treason,
while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge
Houses ah runnin' from ex-owners ah gruntin',
our lands will desert us whole nature unnerved us,
while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge
Street people ah growin' with hardly non knowin',
parents ah cryin', hungry tots ah dyin', emergency rooms
ah packin', it's healthcare ah lackin'
While ah Wall Street ah hoppin' in triumph give-away-ah-hoppin',
while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fridge
Slave hours grind us while paychecks are minus,
GOP congress never behind us,
while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge,
Zombies surround us to only remind us,
QUIT DRINKIN' THE COOL-AID AND EATIN' FUNNY FUDGE!!!
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 4:19 AM UTC
(
•
)
^^^
Love ?
It's not real !
IT 'S ALL GOOFY **** !
Life is GOOFY **** !!
///
So we immerse ourselves in GOOFY **** !
Write GOOFY **** POEMS IN PRAISE OF GOOFY **** !
We are so safe here
Safe in the GOOFY **** !
Nothing is real
Nothing has meaning
It's all just a GOOFY **** WORLD !
////
You are not Real
I am not Real
Love is not real
Life is not real
IT IS ALL GOOFY **** !!!
HA HA HA !
HA HA HA !
You can't hurt me !
I can't hurt you !
Hooray hooray !
We are safe !!!!!!!
So keep em comin
Ya GOOFY ***** !!!!!!!
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
I set a paper rocket flyin', and it hurtled into space
breaking off gravity - all the way to Mars orbity!
Now everyone's surprised, coz a mere paper rag
flew up high and reached that rarefied lile where
only the costliest of junkets lounge leisurely by.
They said you're stupid, you got a paper twit to beg
and you've wampered even that away: how dares
a hungry haggard send missives down the skies?
I stand staring, starry eyed. This is an old squint,
that I got learning to look the other way as
my brothers starved and pottered on the streets
when cotton and coal funneled to Manchester leets.
But last heard, papa John's makin' paper boats
to swim by them snooty stars and there's a scramble
at my yards to get some ******* to the Moon.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 12:41 PM UTC
It aint just the blue collar or the hands in the dirt
or the coal on the belt line or the paint on the shirt
or the dust from the cowboy and the cattle he's drivin'
or the eighteen wheels rollin and the gravel thats flyin'
my best friends named Sparky, he works in the mine
six miles deep, come rain or come shine
dont take lip from no one, ive seen him move fast
give him some **** and he'll hand you your ***
I got a buddy called Outlaw, he rolls eighteen wheels
sometimes nine in a corner with the logs on his heels
he aint scared of nothin, says he dont like to fight
says hes just exercisin' for the long haul tonight
my ol man swung a hammer for most of his life
he earned blood sweat and tears
but he came out alright
might be a church in the city or a cabin far from town
but he''ll die in his tool belts before he'll die sittin down.
it aint just the blue collar or the blood in the dirt,
or the coal beneath your skin or the scars from the work,
or the rope burns on your hands and yet you keep ridin
its just the breath thats the difference between livin and dyin.
(c) 2013 CJM
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 12:32 AM UTC
let's go back, you an me
dance with me, i'll twirl with the dust mop
and you'll laugh and pick dust out of my hair and say i'll never be old
let's go back, you an me
record me stealthily when i sing obscenely-loud songs in the shower
and play them over and over and over as i blush different shades of fire
let's go back, you an me
tickle me while i'm tryin' to play hopscotch
as i beg for mercy between gasps and giggles and threaten to wet my pants
let's go back, you an me
take me for never-ending piggy back rides, pretendin' i'm flyin'
then dump me on the dewy grass, make me laugh because you're laughing
let's go back, you an me
i'll push you in the fountain and you'll grin
and pull me in with you, we'll float on our backs
ignorin' the stares
and watch night fall in little pieces, here and here
except for in your eyes, which blind me
let's go back, you an me
paint sloppy, clumsy kisses on my cheeks
and make stupid looking necklaces out of sparkly plastic beads you know ill never wear
let's go back, you an me
whisper in my ear forever
so that now i can hear you in my head
and smile smiles that don't reach my eyes
and dance with the dust mop pretendin' that it's you
Aug 3, 2010
Aug 3, 2010 at 3:20 PM UTC
Anguished lavish
laureates has driven
me slightly mad
tangerine lemon rounds
Erudites of oolong parties
flying on the wreckages
of forgotten sideral castles
ice cubes crushed in the psychadelia
Nuances of never tomorrows,
slicky dew drops
glistening
jadded wells of deep thoughts
callin'
green algae lakes
emerging
Pale planes oozing
silvery Neptune forks
n'waves flyin'from above
witchery wands in love with wondrous comets
Thou sparkling dispersive
master machine mind
feedin' on
oak wooden spoons
tightly, tenderly
sippin'
magnified tinder
from thy glances
daemons of thy unconsciousness breathing
me *******
flow and ebb
thou chest ebb
and flows
bonvivants bountyful beams
The inflamable black
powder burnin'
to take off
like a swift rocket
like a swell day's
endless delight
*The gold
The pink
The brave new horizons*
Openin' grunges and volcanic
desires
pinnin' lovers, gluein' them to-
gether in a desperate gloom
of unforgiven erotica
And The Poems
who make you tremble
as a luscious cream on the top
of Thou Vicious Beauty
fenderstrater jaguars silent roar
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
Standing by the road side
Thumbing a ride
Sleeping Bag, Backpack
And...Guitar on my back
Heat rolls off the Highway
Like Hallucinogenic Waves
Found a Roach in my pocket
Got me through the Day
Nothing but 70s Buick's...
And Cadillac's Roll By
On the on ramp to I-80
Rolling on to West Skies
A wish for a fast ride's best
Been up for 36 Hours
Popping Little White Crosses
Nothing Passing by but...
Military bosses.........
A VW Micro-bus pulls up
With a Band of Tie Died, Dead
Heads, cranking Jerry Garcia
The smoke the bowl, Kept on Toking
Greatful Dead played "Keep on Truckin' "
I Rolled off some Riffs, along with the Band
Flyin' 300 miles in that beat up old Van
My head got mellow, with these fine Fellows
They Dropped me off in the cool of the Night
And all I saw of them was their Red Tail Lights...1/27/15
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 8:09 AM UTC
I am flyin’
Above the Seas
And the Land
The people down below
Look like Peas
Just a speck
Of nothing
But aren’t be all this way?
Is it sad to know
We are only a small part of life
Time does not stop because
We want it to
I’d pay
For time to stop
Even though I know
It can’t
I just wanna spend
More time
With the people
Who I could have known
Make sure you get to know
A lot of people because you never
Know
Who will turn out to be
A Boss.
Make sure you get to know
A lot of people because you never know
Who will turn out to be
A someone you
Could have known
Make sure you get to know
A lot of people because you never know
Who will turn out to be
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 8:26 PM UTC
Here I sit, stale as a pile of ****
Here I sit, wasting my wit...
Nothing to inspire...
Nothing to remember...
No deep message to get.
Im jus' killin time...
Writin' lines that rhyme.
Freestylin' off the fingers as fast as I can think.
Flyin' off the handle...
Im ele-mental...call me Zinc.
Secure in my manly dreams, not afraid to wear pink.
I'm a fan of good things, I speak them in tongue and write them in ink.
Im fed up with frauds and emo kids that think they're rock stars...
And smokers inhaling tar sticks...
In their smokey bars...that smell like ****
I dont get it.
A couple things I'll never miss.
But here I sit, wasting my wit.
These are just a few frustrations I'd like to forget.
Mar 2, 2010
Mar 2, 2010 at 10:46 PM UTC
*
i lay on my back thinkin' at the stars
why i had to fight that many a wars
i watch the birds as they are flyin' by
always have wished bein' able to fly
i stay at pace wonderin' at the sky
why does the ego urge to satisfy
i hear those leaves whisperin' in the wind
all the amount on the trees i have sinned
i may be restin' as if behind bars
the dreams i have had but those nightmares why
i feel cold as the pressure overwhelms
it is i this world into depths has binned
for now my place is here beneath these elms
this grave now to be my only of realms
**
..love always...*
عرفان بن يوسف © AH 09/05/1437
**
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 5:00 PM UTC
outer banks #1
down to the outer banks
where the water
and the dunes
reflect the wild east coast
we had to drive
to where its not commercialized
where the sand is actually
really occupied
ya gotta a dig a hole burn some coal
just to even eat a fish
grab a spear for a crab where the
shallow waters clear
ya gotta go, you gotta roll where
the old wind blow
ya gotta go, you gotta roll where
the old wind blow
watch your back girl
butter flies flyin outta your skirt
fly off the waves like dirt
were hidden out in the sand dune land
protected from patrol
by mountain sand
while the elders passed a joint
laughin, not carin and
so i soak it in
soak soak soak it in
cause you gotta roll, you gotta go
where the old wind blow
crabbin and a surfin
unknown land
im just campin out
and followin my dad
and camper dave
he's my other dad
we got the seafood
the surfers wish they had
so you gotta roll, you gotta go with the flow
where the ocean is remote
dont need no boat
its the best **** feeling
id ever had
cause ran around
the old wind blow
u gotta go where the old wind blow
so you gotta roll, you gotta go where
the old wind blow
you gotta gooo oh
where the old wind blow
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 4:08 PM UTC
Like a screen door flyin' off the hinges
Like your truck comin' up the drive way
Temper
It seems to stem from those cigarette burns
On your forearms
Maybe cause your dad made you **** your dog when
She got sick
Maybe because your mother locked you in the closet
Until you screamed for help
Like a pit-bull
with one blue eye
And one green
Your temper turns them red
Slobbering at the mouth
Cutting yourself with stones
Callin' out to devils
A black horse springing
Down from the clouds
I have just as much a right
To have a temper as you
- but you could drag me to church
Talkin' bout how
Music is the devil
Whiskey is the devil
Lazziness
Pride
Guilt
Fornication
You may think like a stupid ************
That the devil gives a ****
The only devil I've ever seen
Pressed his workboot to my throat
When I was fourteen
Screaming
"You ain't no son of mine"
Looking down at me choking
You spit on my face
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 6:53 PM UTC
Can't see the dawn
from the angle of dusk
Even harder to believe--
it could see me?
Why would sunrise care about its setting?
“I think you'd hafta be flyin', er sumpthin'
Maybe if I banked a 180
gazing into that new east?
Okay--
I know it's not
I could still see the reflections
of where it was
of warmth and color where it used to be?
Okay--
...and now I'm just the warmth of the reflected
disorientation
--God **** that poetry-killing six syllable word!
Ya wanna pass that joint
before I land this heap without My wheels down”
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 7:44 PM UTC