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Phil Nov 2011
This is for the homies,
For the ones that have been through it all.
for the ones that have been here for so long.
For the ones that will share their ball.
The ones that will hit the ****.
For the ones that I can call,
any day and any time.
For the ones that are tall
and the ones that are small.
And for the ones that one day will be king.
For the ones that can't sing, and the ones that can.

For all the memories we had,
not a single one of them bad.
Our friendship was hopefully not a fad,
cause then I would be sad.

Good-byes are hard,
Good-byes do ****.
They can leave you scarred,
but won't with any luck.

I will miss all of you,
and cannot say it enough.  
On the day I leave the only sound will be a sad bird's coo.
if only there was time to drink some Duff.

That is all I can think of, and it is all true.  I will miss you all and hope to see you all again.  Don't forget to keep funkin' for fun.  Until we meet again homies, remember that I love you all and hope you will always be happy.  That there will be no more problems and no more regrets.  Keep a smile on your face and don't let anything keep you down.  Good-bye Homies, hopefully not forever.
Jay Jimenez Nov 2010
Funk
Jam Wam goes my Trunk
Punk kids rage and unleash the beast of the party out the cage
Hippie kidz just melt
felt there heat
you see there bodies fall to the ground
the Rock kids mosh and make the concert burn down like pete tosh
We were funky hipsterz watchin the motion of the devotion of these kidz gettin down
we were funky monkeys just swinggin and a singing
pretty girlz jewelry gleamin
ya they caught me peakin
**** I was geekin and cheezin
would'nt you
Funkin A
Copyright JaMRock
ryann Aug 2014
i wanna discover Ironlak spray paint and bare brick, learn how to hold the can so my art doesn’t cry.  i wanna dress up and go to the Black Book Gallery.  sip chablis with folks whose Benz payment is more than my monthly expenses. throw up my hands and run out laughing, with tears in my eyes. some days i wanna pretend fleeting things will last forever; like your hand will always find its way to my waist.

i wanna pretend integrity doesn’t matter to me. pretend im a good daughter sister lover friend.  i wanna wake up and pretend that black felonious cloud isn’t funkin’ up my day.  i wanna discover parts of you i didn’t fathom existed and taste the skin of your wrist.  i wanna fall asleep in the grass from joyful exhaustion,  and be awakened by a gentle rain…roll into you and make love like it’s worth a stint in the pokie.

i wanna discover the hard and twisted insides of the caapi vine with you.  get inside out, while gazing into your endless insides. give me rain and heat and hallelujah.  i wanna discover a subculture i never knew existed and pretend i am a part of it.  somedays i wanna pretend forever things, eternal things, are fleeting. like i could call my dead mother tomorrow just to *******.

i wanna rail against the universe.  i wanna brawl with mother nature because it's dumb that ******* can’t create babies.  i wanna discover an afternoon with you, drunk, that bleeds into the evening, night and next morning.  filled with laughter, singing, fake british accents and *****. squishy lips, tongues, giggles and fits. let’s discover time.

i want a lover to take a full bodied swallow of me, roll it around in his mouth like a glass of a buttery merlot… just to prolong the inhalation of me~
It ain't gonna be me the stinking state pigs will be a-cuffin' because
I ain't licensed at nothin,' not even bakin' a sweet, California muffin
with big raisins, orange sprinkles & whatever else I feel like stuffin'
so as not to yank out prematurely before I gets more than enough in
Sometimes I cry as pigeons peck my *******, other times I just tell
them to stop it & not to do it ever again because I don't like it much
Fattened cows ate our tomatoes & starving pigs then ate our posies,
so don't you dare take a huge, reekin' **** on our colorful tea cozies
'cause lovin' you's like fressing cherry pie from a gal with 1 bad eye
while I sit cocked sideways needing a yardstick 'cause I ain't so shy
Mary Ellen Judy Norton Taylor Walton your ******* are too flabby,
so I will go down on your furry tuft below, that I jokingly call tabby
as Judy suffers from, & is afflicted with, an obtusion of farm senses
that interrupt her monthly charges regardin' normal-flowing ******
For Hef's ******* Judy was feverishly hot on a bear rug naked bare
after flinging aside T.V. pretend bro' Jim Bob's farm-boy underwear
that he wore when they rocked the house in grandma's rockin' chair
1 day I was viewing The Keiser Report starring ugly ol' Max Keiser
which would detract from my sexiness yet make me so much wiser,
& cause great-toe-jammin'-pecker stiffness & irritate either eye sore
while grindin' down 4 canines, 8 premolars & a middlemost incisor
I'll sing 8 days on the road in my big truck like I'm ol' Dave Dudley
running from Jesus God and hiding with waitresses as I rave studly
of a manly prowess using stiff asphalt laid thickly to pave mud free
like the wife support payments forked over by singer Neil Diamond
that would be burdensome to a poorer Jew like the shill Neil Simon
Boldness & beauty, blackness & blue, I am stupid, just not like you
'cause as my cornflakes sog in milk, I don't sell my nuts for a *****
anywhere where life spells death there is a cloudy heaven to pursue
It was hard push, yank & pull, talk ***** to me don't talk ***** to me
I like you or likely I love you, I try too much, better just wait & see,
while I give up at changing you into the woman I long for you to be
in the image that schmo Bobby Darin wanted for ****** Sandra Dee
whose big ******-numbed ******* nursed Bobbie's raw-milk brutality
pitched on a bowling lane of broken-leg bone & severed-hand ****
what made him stolidly 910 million times more serenely handsome
under the guilty shadow of the gay Bruce Jenner gender switcheroo

that could very well be his surgical whoops slip up Waterloo before

he would sexcite sike **** Hillary Clinton's homosexy affairs anew
whilst his hot peas thawed, hair pack jelled & old girl caught a clue
beyond clues given for cows driven to spit up cud for another chew
in kingdom halls where witnesses disfellowship guys seen fartin' &
queer-drunk on Mexi-gasser beans poured from a lime-green carton
that was endorsed by ******-ball Dino Crocetti A.K.A. Dean Martin
who liked pancakes, hotcakes & flapjacks with blackstrap molasses
as he denied hotcakes for burnt pancakes, griddlecakes & flapjacks
& proctologic exams for nothing that probed his chafed crap cracks
that looks like a flounder, that with a *** cleaver, a crazy *** hacks
at my red wiener, warty cucumber, candle stick & old orange carrot
as witnessed by my chimp, quokka, gerbil & clipped African parrot
that is so selfish with gooily-raw rat meat that he'll not even share it
with the hack Bob Browning & his ***** monkey Elizabeth Barrett
****** hid her vaginal emptiness from Richard Cory, Kyle S. Bruce,
Daisy Lou & Garett Hobart's lost nephew whose quarry tile is loose
You screamed like an unwashed **** when I pinched your lard ***,
I can't stomach your sister, because she is such a whining, hard lass
conjuring up old Crowley occultism, but what makes her the worst,
she wants me to sign a ****** suicide pact that states that I die first
as self-****** is a sin & she cares little about my soul being cursed
in realms that count not among its angels William Randolph Hearst
& Marion Davies & accused wife-snuffin' millionaire Robert Durst
whose hunger for Malay tail was sadder than greasers dyin' of thirst
I slumber in greenish ***** ill puked hard *****-woozy & drunken
too sick to down gooey, greasy doughnuts I shoplifted from Dunkin
'cause I purloin cream topping & jelly filling better than anyone can
now o' when Smith, of the fake Titanic, knew he was a man sunken
to televise (tele advise me telly television tele-visionary uncle Ken)
my nose from the vantage point of me red **** is funky-funk funkin'
or my ear from the fall-off point of a thin *** sins funky-funk funkin'
or brow from the terminal point of **** lips is *****-punk punkin'
or toes from a tiny point of 2 **** tips that're chunky-chunk chunkin'
& triggered at the apex of ******-**** ***** for a clunky-clunk clunkin'
once ragged atop the peak of Clinton's ****** of dunky-dunk dunkin'
& crap beyond a holt of pretty ******* to ***** a bunky-bunk bunkin'
My ultra-favorite, back-******* monkey loves me me me but
I love my bonnie Bonnie who lives across the ocean & over the sea
in a palace with Sparky Marcus who spreads a cruel, spooky mucus
over a toady staffer popularly known as crazy Luke or kooky Lucus
whose stratospherical id raced far beyond whatever Sparky ever did
long after Henry McCarty & William Bonney became Billy the Kid
Confess & grovel before the Lord, for on asphaltum your ***'ll skid
because dark spots on my shaded parts means that I got a headache,
that's got more killin'-power than a Malaysian/H.A.A.R.P. seaquake
I know that what you now know is on a need-to-know basis, and so
I counted them twice to I see that you amputated my left largest toe
to **** foot-bred animalcules unfelt as my atrophy trots paraplegical
in ****** labs of agriculturalists, whose studies are parthenocarpical
I love the challenge of a chic freak as it makes my pocked **** tired
7 days in a usual Haitian work week like quitting before being fired
which was her fat-*** way of losing a new job just after being hired
as this stunnin' **** ruptured me because she was so sexually wired

with white ***** makin' my Jacmel Beach tragedy 100% uninspired
Ol' men know that plastic Barbie doll dolls want G.I. Joe men, ever
since genital-lacking Barbie Roberts had the baby of *****-free Ken
whose naked 11-count stood unnaturalized as he could not reach 10
as cruel bears are bear-tricky like Smokey Bear & T.V.'s Gentle Ben
in ol' Kowloon City where Nancy Kwan sleeps with me as Ka Shen
who smoked Raleigh cigarettes for cancer & sailed north for scurvy
to enhance her perky nay-nays & to make nip-wide hips more curvy
on the roof to the floor, beneath the attic in my dungeon topsy turvy
On rough seas no boy sailor knows what a Chinese cargo ship'll do,
'cause in a tight D cup bra a raw-rubbed lawyer **** may ****** sue
Haakim U Allah Mar 2018
Feelin' those **** curves
Enjoying her heft against me,
Rubbin' my hands along her neck
Pullin' strangs manipulating every utterance
Warm tones when I make her moan
Brightness defying her bottom
Keeping that **** tight when I pop!  Pop! Pop it!
Slappin' n slammin' in the pocket
She won't fight
In fact it's what she likes
It's what I love about her
I share in her delight
We can go on for hours on into the night
Funkin up the place
The **** that we be doin' be scrunchin' up my face
We catch a groove in our own space
Yeah, it gets ******* when I'm playing my bass...


Haakim Understanding © 1/2017
I slumber in greenish ***** ill puked hard *****-woozy & drunken
too sick to down gooey, greasy doughnuts I shoplifted from Dunkin
'cause I purloin cream topping & jelly filling better than anyone can
now o' when Smith, of the fake Titanic, knew he was a man sunken
to televise (tele advise me telly television tele-visionary uncle Ken)
my nose from the vantage point of me red **** is funky-funk funkin'
or my ear from the fall-off point of a thin *** sins funky-funk funkin'
or brow from the terminal point of **** lips is *****-punk punkin'
or toes from a tiny point of 2 **** tips that're chunky-chunk chunkin'
& triggered at the apex of ******-**** ***** for a clunky-clunk clunkin'
once ragged atop the peak of Clinton's ****** of dunky-dunk dunkin'
& crap beyond a holt of pretty ******* to ***** a bunky-bunk bunkin'

— The End —