"hungriest" poems
I'm a Kool g rockin' coogis poppin' coochies
Haters get murked like Colhese my rap lease
Debutin' numero uno the heavy weight sumo
Born on Jupiter raised on Earth my heart's colder than Pluto
Mic judo flows stickin' of ya corticals
Check me in the articles I be the broken particle
Of the universal ya need rehearsal **** goin' commerical
I lay raps like a hearse flow for rappers funeral
I a criminal none keep gats by the abdominal rhymin' phenomenal the mighty Apollo
Blazin' my cocoa flippin' crime like Bardellino
One luv to my nino got it locked like a Vegas casino
We checkin' ya dough at the front door so stop ya show
Fronting and stunting once my nines get the hunting
Bullets spikin' like kickers punting raw taunting
Game hungriest similiar to the lochness
Mon-star far from subpar rhymes ride bizzare
A pharcyde takin' ya into a spiritual homicide converged to the angelic hide
Still a crime shame all of 'em say the same
Thing flexin' diamonds on they pinky rings yet another sad soul that sings sub siblings
To the underworld debators contract initiator so you can create a
Pace between the stage and the audience face
**** that rather keep a gat tucked in the front or the back
With wisdom to rack
Imagine that fools breakin' for stats? see where my heart at?
Diggin' reachin' into the minds of the youth with the brutal truths
Chippin' my tooth
From killin' booths once I plot ya will ya loose
bringin' the ghetto blues and cruising *****
Still a sober jealous God am I call me Jehovah
Tactics of a Cobra one strike it's over
Venomous ridiculous hataz so conspicuous
Hatin' us only to anger my artillery surplus and who bust?
More rounds than Matt Dillion coatin' ya brains
With my lyrical penicillin stealin'
Back the spotlight
Catch the bright sunshine that stares into my mind
A Pharoah prophecy laid in the back of me
Head til I touch my final resting bed I'll embed
The realist **** ya ever heard shooting a bird
To all my enemies I blast at 'em with as the bullets herd
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 12:40 PM UTC
*WHEN I first discovered the *"BEND IN THE RIVER" * , , , I had No Idea what was in store for those who BELIEVE There's a LOT more to this Flesh and Blood Body than Meets the Eye!! IT'S a Brand New World, , , That I've been instructed to "SHARE" with those who also believe *That the SPIRIT given to us,,ALLOWS "ADVENTURES" beyond explanation. "For Example"; I uncovered a Mystery that has been kept from man for Centuries!! "Such As Follows". Am I a fool to fish with an Unbaited hook?? Even though I did Caste it out "Very Far". Will the FLASHING of it being Retrieved ever so FAST, be enough to Attract the Hungriest of Those Looking for a New treat? What,Oh What could be a "BETTER BAIT" than that which I reeled in at a "Break-Neck" speed?? Was there No Deliciousness coming Off that Rapid return? PERHAPS,,a Tasty Morsel, a Yummy TidBit be attached to the very Tip.. AND * YES Put below a Cork about 30"ABOVE!! YES,,Gently,, Persuasively,, Moving in the Smooth currents of "LIFE"!!! Is this "BETTER BAIT" always available? * I BETTER "RUSH" TO FIND OUT!! "Are YOU with me??"
Sep 14, 2010
Sep 14, 2010 at 3:38 AM UTC
I DON'T blame the kettle drums-they are hungry.
And the snare drums-I know what they want-they are empty too.
And the harring booming bass drums-they are hungriest of all.. . .
The howling spears of the Northwest die down.
The lullabies of the Southwest get a chance, a mother song.
A cradle moon rides out of a torn hole in the ragbag top of the sky.
1.9k
Won’t stay too long
You’ll be glad that I did
Trust me
I’m just
An aggressive, bad kid
I see conflict where none exists
Peace in the nothingness
Warring with wretched warmongering
Mind’s abyss
Raised by the lioness
And the guerilla head hunter
The hungriest
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 10:43 PM UTC
short is the most delicious look
silence is the loudest book
with lips the hungriest food
and night the darkest wildest mood
breathing is the deepest ****
giving in the hottest ****
love is a bittersweet borrowed lie
time is a slowly emptied sigh
deception is the sharpest yet rustiest lance
and rage the slowest, saddest dance
while truth's just polished-up confusion
with words - the slipperiest illusion
- - - - -
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 7:02 AM UTC
For as long as I can remember,
the women of my family have lived
in hunger like hulking tigers in a cramped cage.
Love is quickly used up, its quality fading
from golden light into grainy shadows
flicked haphazardly across God’s great canvas.
After Love departs, nothing remains but
the splinters where we have torn away limbs
and dug holes in search of that light again,
the flecks of gold streaked through our hair,
the ones that know better than revisit our homes.
When we give up, we sit in our drab backyards
to watch the sun sink over a police state
masquerading as the ultimate state of grace.
We tuck our freedoms into bed, kiss our sacred rights
goodnight in case we never get the chance
to lead by the hand into the light of day,
and sneak back down to the kitchen for one last snack,
maybe two. Maybe more, maybe our mouths
wait in secret to transform into one bottomless pit
as we reach with every breath we take for something
we have always known and long since learned
we’ll never be able to grasp in our earthly fingers.
Apr 30, 2021
Apr 30, 2021 at 3:21 PM UTC
Denying words their right and might
this was cryptically conveyed to us:
a death plan is being perfected,
the need of the dark hour, for sure!
This extending nightmare we are in
a darkly crafted metaphor, threatening!
Never forget, one is nothing more than
an unflinching core member of the clan,
standing daggers drawn, waiting the turn
taken a blood oath of utmost submission.
A 'death plan' sounds sinister,you think?
it's intended, remember as you advance.
The piranhas are the hungriest,
at this time of the year
the climate changes sharpen their fangs,
for a killer smile, the vengeance of nature!
Beware the nature is aware of all shenanigans,
the swim against the flow can go on no more.
Looking for an omen, the dark sun rising
with an accusing finger pointing at you?
At this pirrana hour, let go such thoughts
there won't be such niceties,no embellishments.
Fight your bitter water wars, with neighbors,
in this twilight fast engulfed by a dark night.
Repent for slipping from the ladder of thought,
leading to the pinnacle of the tallest pyramid,
while the rot spreads, when y'all lie, relentlessly
steal or **** to stamp one's victory over the other.
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
yo check it **** these youtube ****** sound like a bunch of ******* chirpin'
yo father of the seven seas
its time for the realemcees
to stand up mob up
cuz these ****** ****
more **** than a ** thats on a street lick
******* up is my clique
we ride w mobsters
do biz while eatin' shrimps n lobsters
ya cant stop tha
reign i drop on ya brain
got ya eyes bugged out like snorts of *******
after i finish ya
ya cant regain ya title or fame
ya know the name yosef comin' mo explosive
than Saddam droppin bombs
no harm done to me
hold ya hands in a circle and repeat after me
"yosef the magnificent"
none can surpass or blastme im see through to ****** that try to talk to
me with that ******** save tha soft talks i send ya to hells pits
with no remains and blood stains
on the concrete mayne
i got multiple domains without pushin' an ounce of ******* no pain no gain yea my words insane major like pain
all ya need to do is remain
calm and cool as the pistol to ya mouth makes ya drool
ya know the rules
**** you pay me cant slay me i was birthed in another dimension
sent back for the mental incision
like ISIS got these *** *** emcees in a crisis
now check my ices
rolex pushin' a manual fully loaded lex
180 on the dash fast cash leads to a crash but im too smooth move pass
the crowds
im rougher than a diaper rash like Johnny Cash
i dance in the ring of fire
Hip Hops Resurrectin'Messiah ya need Higher
Learning as im turning
the page the **** got me in a rage
these ****** aint spittin' nothing they in a daze
when i shine i burn em harder than a sun beam rays
even if ya had 50 aks
pointed at me it still wouldnt penetrate me im untouchable incredible
sources credible
game hungriest so yall edible
if ya sold ya soul?
ya still couldnt floss like me
shady two point o the Rap Cypher Chief
bow down ya ***** bitchess!!!!!!
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC
essential radiance wilts and fades
In the light and halo of propane tank explosions
Dark cold nights spent rocking back and forth on the edge of a dream
Only knowing in hindsight that the forgotten question
Was what brought us here in the first place
phases come in and out of tune
Their lunar frequencies alive with you, you sit and open up the case all day, we let the cold air tighten up our powdered skin, the holes we've bored into the raincloud stick us in the neck,
Join hands with wisdom
extinguish dominion, combine and refract the remainder, destroy the big time dog-catchers.
hungriest of all was the Cat whose puzzled look of shame diverted your eyes while he disappeared into a higher vibratory frequency, which became color and sound syntesthesia
Blending seamlessly with the broken windows through which were heard vague memories of forgotten dreams, the shouts and rhythms quite audible but each syllable indistinguishable
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 2:27 PM UTC
Vincent the mighty is on his Mum's lap
like a ****** great whale that is having a nap
he's as big as a bus as you all can see
and weighs twice as much as a giant oak tree
he sniffed out my cake for a bite he is pushing
all hail the world's cuddliest hungriest cushion
Mar 6, 2011
Mar 6, 2011 at 6:51 AM UTC
He will tie the strings of the masks each day,
Waiting ‘til the set of suns to remove it from its grasp:
Tugging on skin. First, the heaviest of all,
Abhorring the world for granting him the greatest burden;
Infuriated for not gaining the choice of first breath.
Purity of immense emotion, coursing through newly opened lungs.
Second, the hungriest: Shoving the mask aside to consume life,
Delectable love filling tables, now made just to fill his stomach…
Only to fall to the ground, clutching himself at thus, no longer hungry.
Third, a mask stuck to his face and peeling skin with attempts to remove it;
Falling to his knees, he looks up,
Up to those above him, begging the skies for such a life- for such freedoms.
A wide smile forming beneath, teeth gleaming with a chuckle:
He simply wants what they have.
Fourth, the lies of all veils, God, why create such a mask?
He shall look across the room to eye the other, blood pounding in ears:
Pulsing, drumming, begging needing wanting standing to ask for just-
A dance? But he hides his soul beneath the mask and shall continue to the end.
The fifth, an arrogant fellow of such. His branch most sophisticated,
His tree the strongest but the sprouts below?:
Changing too much for his own approval, despite the brightness of their leaves,
For he was the one recognized by the sun.
Sixth, leather with a hollow beak scented with crimson carnations.
Folds and wrinkles, creaking bones soon to turn dust,
Why would he rise from his wooden chair? Rocking
Back, and forth, back, and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth-
Snap. Crack.
But he is not prepared, he is far from hopeful, the sand falling quickly.
He does not wish any longer to wear the last mask:
Number seven.
The previous six shatter and tumble to the ground, now mirrors in the soil.
He looks upon the shards, lungs gasping at the sight:
A man, yet not a man. A demon, yet far from such.
He hungers for the gift of first breath, for the love fed to him,
For the freedoms, for the dance, for the trees and for the petals.
He is not prepared to go,
For wasn’t it once said,
That hell is empty, and all the devils are here?
Perhaps the lenses in this one shall show him truth, or perhaps not.
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 6:51 PM UTC
“Transcendence is dead”,
He remarked,
with hollowed eyes enlarged
“There’s no exteriority to this existence,
no object not rooted to this mind,
no experience to reach to alleviate me from this pain”
Words uttered in vain sentiment,
like riches given by a desolate
“- and there’s no interiority
to this existence either,
no refuge untouched by extrinsic hands,
no truth untainted and grazed
by worldly sands,
etching indelible marks,
serrations upon the purity of what I envision, oppressive symmetry bounding my condition”
Echoes unbridled to the night made by folded wings
of the hungriest crows,
a reality smirking upon this man
encased in noxious snow
“-only immersion,
only implicit truth,
only sensation,
that’s all that’s left when flesh is torn,
arteries spilt,
and bones broken,
when my fantasies are the whispering
of the death of lives yet born ”
How unfortunate,
“I once remarked that
„abstract are the lines of my conscience„
how false I was,
there is no conscience,
there is no line, there is no territory,
no irreducible components of self,
no elements,
no world,
mere immersion, mere immersion, mere immersion, mere imm-“
How unfortunate,
“-ersion, my plane of immanence,
thought is not real,
only the image of thought,
people aren’t real,
only their representations,
this is not real,
only my description of it,
I’m sustained by this illusion and I am content,
for content is not real, only stationarity,
to suggest my autonomy
suggests a piece in a game,
an agent in a relation,
a designated power,
but power is not real,
only my laughter and spite,
only the former iterations of myself I
walk over
so I may tell myself I am content where I am,
consciousness is not real,
only the playthings of my inner demons,
and my unconscious is not real,
only the results of my outer events,
I am not real,
only the set of eyes that overlooks me”
How unfortunate,
a child who instead of a soul,
an unhealing wound,
but don’t feel upset for this child,
he is not real, only the representation of him, only a disembodied set of eyes describing his flesh left behind
|
Now I must close my eyes, this child of hollowed sight is beginning to cry, then so will I
Sep 5, 2023
Sep 5, 2023 at 7:01 PM UTC
everything we know
is human.
humans even create
explanations for nature
anything human
will come to an end
we can not build anything
to last forever
we can not feel
anything
to last forever
we can not
last forever
in a world built to expire
there is no infinite anything
all that is infinite is space
and it seems the world has little of that
i can't think of anything more powerful
than an infinite vacuum of anything you would love
to last forever
* * * * * * *
every inch of our world
drenched, by the same water
over and over
endless cycle of repeating voices
noises visions of the noisiest
hungriest tool of destruction
demolishing villages
filling our oceans
filling our glasses
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 1:50 PM UTC
Drunken rage...
is not the way to go.
right.
I can't help but feel,
that somehow.
In this twisted heap of simplicity...
its my fault.
The way I long for you,
is inexplicably
disgusting.
and you're mine.
I cannot fathom what it feels,
to not actually have you.
Cause,
its buried burnt deep,
in the core of my mind...
somewhere in the past...
somewhere in the blackest, hungriest
Chasm where all their blue eyes
open door smiles, soul ripping melodies
invisible insecurities, and inviting, devilishly
beautiful
faces live and breathe. Somewhere.
says I don't deserve love.
or perhaps Im just whining...
because I'm selfish.
just like everyone else on this joy--
ash ridden planet.
But, is it?
is it selfish to ask you...
to share breath with me,
for all the days of my life.
Because, when I look at you,
before you can even greet the day.
I see the children I never even
Wanted
to have.
Call me selfish. Then.
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 11:28 PM UTC
My sweetest Evening!
You are always welcomed.
An entrance into my calmest moments.
Your embrace / a long lost lover / but a day since we made love
my dearest repriev’er
of harsh afternoons
and hungriest louder mornings.
Come. Tell me how the world shall sleep.
as when kittens cry for milk.
The purr-dreaming as rumbling
rails of clickety-clacking travelers
from unknown countries. Dressed for each season. A boldest boutique unsurpassed by circumstance. My sweetest Evening kissing me!
:: 09-06-2018 ::
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 11:57 PM UTC
poets are the greatest treasure hunters,
or maybe, they might be the happiest.
most likely the most fulfilled.
poets are the richest in nature.
or maybe, just the most aware.
most likely just the most sleep deprived.
poems are our greatest treasure,
like chests full of gold.
instead of gold it's words.
that we crave to hold.
poets are the hungriest.
for emotion, life, and fear.
or maybe,
just the calmest.
sitting quietly.
amongst their peers.
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 12:48 AM UTC
This moment,
lying silent in the sun,
basking in its love,
and yours,
the whole world is still
except the air sneaking across our bodies
through the open window at our heads.
In this pure light
I can see every stray hair on your face,
perfectly misplaced
like carefully planned chaos.
I notice that the hair hiding behind your ear
begins to curl
when it has grown just a bit
too long
and it reminds me of ocean waves
and I realize
I've never been so inclined to drown.
If you were water
like the color of your eyes
I would let you fill me.
You could pour into my lungs
through my nose and mouth
and I wouldn't stop you.
While I trace with my eyes
the freckles you wear
on your shoulders,
and I imagine them as islands
in the sea of your skin,
I imagine how
I would wear nothing but a smile
and swim the distance
so I could visit each one,
allow your water flesh to rush over me.
I see your chest as a mountain
one that I've conquered time and time
again
but I've never taken the same trail twice.
Your breath like the wind through my trees
whistles
and your leaves shiver
and the birds outside our window
scream a love song like I've never heard.
The melody is sweet
and it calms even my hungriest demons.
When I can feel your warmth beside me
my thoughts become gentle
and my movements are immediately
calculated and
deliberate,
nothing with you near me
is an accident.
Time is frozen
despite the heat pouring in upon us,
and we'll always have this,
our tropical vacation,
our bed the sand
and your smile
the line in the horizon.
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 12:58 PM UTC
Thou, thou violent fires,
Though thou might rage
With all Hellish desires,
No more in a peculiar cage
Of fear, thou shalt shroud us.
At length, thou shalt calm,
And like as the tides of the sea,
Return whence thou dost come.
Thou, thou violent fire,
Though more fierce thy anger
Than the Dragon's ire,
Thou shalt lose thy power
But hark! Into the balmy air,
Rage nevermore to drag men
Into shadowy vales of despair
Like as the hungriest lion in a den.
For though thou might rage
With all Hellish eternal hate,
Nevermore to shroud us in a cage
Of fear, for death too is thy fate.
©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angeles, California. 10/28/19.
Oct 29, 2019
Oct 29, 2019 at 3:03 AM UTC