"keef" poems
I just want to write a poem no one ever thought of writing
It must have the same effects as walking on the moon
It must trend faster than a meteor as it hurdles through cyber space
I refused to love any man, who dislikes my poetry,
My man must support my passion ..
not only the warmth of my body
but the passion within this poetess, my secretive mind he must be able to balance:
Without wondering why a woman like me is so naturally secretive
I am always embracing the dark side of my creativity
Dropping little hints here and there throughout the years,
Sidney J. Harris once said something that left pondering thoughts
He said “When he hears somebody sighs,
'Life is hard,' he’s always tempted to ask them, 'Compared to what?'
I would simply say dog-gone it: Compared to struggling poets whose tries to make a living as a writer
While an upcoming rapper like Chief Keef
signed a several-million dollar deal
with offending lyrics in today music industries:
I just want to write a poem no one ever thought of writing,
With lots of intense emotion bursting through each line:
Because a poem can’t exist without a poet's multiple voices
and most of all his divine missions
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 5:01 PM UTC
Driving home from your favorite spot
Curled up in the passenger seat
Of my grandmother’s car
Because I couldn’t focus on
The pavement lines
I was too infatuated with the smell of
My grape cigars and
Your black cherry cigarellos
Chasers
To the last of
Your keef
One arm out the window
Feeling the summer air cool
As the sun drops
Below the horizon
I can’t take my eyes
From my cracked mirror
Smashed by a mailbox
A few miles back
Through the cracks I watch
Your fingers run
Through your too long brown hair
The same color
As your mellowed out eyes
You never look my way
But you feel my gaze
And your perfect lips turn upward
Into your stunning smile
And as the cause of that grin
I glow like the embers
Of our final cigars
Stamped out quickly
The next morning
As you leave me in your
Unbroken rearview
Cigarette out the window
Smiling the whole way
And never looking back
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
Got me a nice blunt
Baked in sweet keef an' the sun
i smoke er up,
when im on the run
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
Out in the kitchen
The band plays hail to the thief
Dylan is fixing
Another shoot out for Keef
Hands in his pocket
He only crosses the left
Eyes to the right
Says you gotta give it your best
(and then it hits ya)
I know your hurting
But you know that pain is my friend
I’m up to my knees
But you got me down on the mend
The joker’s watching
The kings are all under his command
It’s time for the tables
To turn through the barren land
Madonna she’s restless
She needs a roll in the hay
Your children have left you
Go throw the manger away
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 3:23 AM UTC
Light up the hash, we goin' get real high
While the smoke blows to the flows from Half Life of Phi
This is a beat for all the ****** freaks
Smokin the keef til they get wide cheeks
Yo we got them blunts rolled proppa
With a fat core of shatta, even Big Poppa
Would hit it, then hit it again, spit a refrain
About how that **** smoke makes the brain
Feel so sane, goes with the grain, healing pain
I'm the DEA's bane of existence,
All because of my dank scents
But all we tryin' to do is make rents
For my friends, choppin ends
Put it in a crock *** but not too hot
Leave it in the spot for a while
Light up the hash, we goin' get real high
While the smoke blows to the flows from Half Life of Phi
Spend the time with a fat pile
Of hash, spittin that medicated style
About the cash that
We goin to make from the batch
Once this plan hatch
Time's up open up the hatch
See the green butter be quick to ******
It up in the cheese cloth
While it's still nice and soft
Strain out the chaff from the grain
For a better product better do it again
Cause you wanna have the fame in the game
Light up the hash, we goin' get real high
While the smoke blows to the flows from Half Life of Phi
Known by the name of the green baker
Risk taker, Swimmin in money lakes-er
Don't ***** wit the shakes
except for personal bakes
Only keef rinses sinces
you don't chinces
Keep the potencies
Gotta keep pounds around
One from each corner of town
Keepin your inventory down
Most diverse selection **** elections
With all that and the dope sound
And nobody around to **** with your crown
Light up the hash, we goin' get real high
While the smoke blows to the flows from Half Life of Phi
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 7:43 PM UTC
A blonde from the most expensive public institution
separated keef into sweet, firm rows.
Upon entering the wood-panneled house, you were under the allusion
that none of the go-ers would be doing blow.
Young males huddled against university brick walls
let their fluids go on a-flowing.
Expectation bound phonies make time-consuming calls
to prove there's elsewhere to be going.
And the toilet on the left side, remained fluffily clogged,
the mirrors all gazed into by the dozens.
The cell-phones kept the moments sufficiently blogged
about hazy ladies gyrating on cousins.
Crowds inadvertently bumping and grinding
in their pilgrimage to thee sacred keg.
Four fights broke out, because frat oaths are binding
and their forward almost broke his golden leg.
All dripping with the sour scent of the *****
Make-outs, misogyny, and brawls.
Those in attendance were all said to have perused
the meaningless, the free, and the foul.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 5:28 PM UTC
Life inside,
Dreams,
A surprise.
I smile like the sun,
I rise for the prize.
I think of news,
I think of blues.
Rally around,
I hear the sound.
Of heart and memory,
Eleven seventy.
My mind is fresh,
Clean and pressed.
I suit up like Heath,
And breath hearth Keef.
The broad span, is deafening.
I wish truth,
Never aloof.
I sacrifice time,
Energy and live.
The pine needles climb,
Above my mind,
I want to arise.
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
Your fear speaks volumes. Voice-box cauldron, thoughts become vapor; boiling through gritted teeth.
Every face appears as a demon. You see through the veil of grief. Nobody ever told you life would be scary… full of haunt, regret… sorrowed memories; a fear of the future so cruel, so without compassion… riddled in marijuana keef.
Life, as if a dream. Waking life, cruelty bleeds through the tip of a pen; black ink.
Try as I might, I can’t recall you, life. Life, as a dream.
Woe is you, waking life. So true, so memorable.
I am not a victim. I can see through it. So temporal. So incredible. The life I live is a blessing making me constantly feel curious about what awaits me next; in my own masurbatory mind… consumed with regret in every text.
I regret you not, my thought. I regret not you, who created me. You, who cradled me always. You, who never told a lie. Thought, if only for a moment. Thought, my creator.
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 5:12 AM UTC
It's Five pm on a Saturday afternoon
Walking down town, I can smell 'em
The takeaways will be opening soon
And this street smells like heaven
People at home are in the shower
Getting ready for their night on the town
They'll be having their first drink in about an hour
They'll be listening to their sounds
Me, I'm at home, alone and lonely
With a pizza and a bottle of wine
But I've got the Rolling Stones, 'Exile On Main Street '
So **** 'em, I'm feeling fine
Keef's guitar and **** Jagger's sneer
Charlie Watts perfect drums
They always sound great, whatever the year
I can take the rest as it comes
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 12:43 PM UTC
It's sticky and fogs your mind
This green friend of mine
Inhale to feel just fine
As slowly it steals your time.
It comes in the form of a leaf
With it there is no grief
It leaves behind some keef
But it is the time thief.
Many days can go by
****** or completely high
Without blinking an eye
Time begins to fly by.
It makes you do less
You begin to forget success
All you want to do is rest
And smoke it to your chest.
When its time to quit
You realise you're unfit
And couldn't give a s**t
You'd rather smoke and sit.
You might become addicted
Your brain power is restricted
Completely self inflicted
Your motivation misdirected.
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 6:02 PM UTC
used to try writing raps
my version of stealing from blacks
near had a heart-attack over the fact
aint nothing worse than a white assed mac
back to the roots with my poetic muse
but I refuse to lose the blues
or act like they aren’t my bad news
see, I too have worn out shoes
solidarity and commonality through being poor
letters to Santa scratched into the cold dirt floor
always living hungry, afraid to ask for more
only thing ever offered freely was access to the front door
you know.. “complaining *** get the **** out”
leaving very little room for anyone to doubt
there was nothing of my station granting me any version of clout
and fingerprints across my face were the answer to a pout
now I just stick with poetry, was never really a thief
well except that little piece of coral from the Hawaiian reef
or my trip to Jamaica when I ripped off that spleef
or the time after all that trimming I had 11 pounds of keef
those are all lies I have barely been off the west coast
I wanted you to be impressed so I had to try and boast
like that was the only way you would think I was ‘the most’
guess I will go do my Elwood impression and have some plain white toast
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 5:05 PM UTC
Our Commander in Chief
A liar and thief
Less poise than Cheef Keef
Poisons the coral reefs
Turns over the same leaf
Covers it with new beef
A new outrageous tweet
Wash, rinse, repeat
With every action he divides our nation into factions
Giving a fraction of the truth, he replaces fact with distraction
Selling manufactured satisfaction
In fact we are living ration to ration
Press releases become trash compaction
Gluing facets to fit the latest fashion
While hiding his utter lack of compassion
Tragedy and calamity
Total lack of humanity
A far shot from sanity
Blinded by his vanity
Mesmerized by Sean Hannity
Our orange head of state
Ignores what’s at stake
As he takes and takes
Makes dire mistakes
Poisons rivers and lakes
I wake in shivers and shakes
Executive orders
Walled off borders
Photoshopped reporters
Narcissistic personality disorder
The bloated wealth hoarder
The great divider, the sorter
Total disregard for the truth
Fools gold or real gold
Both break your tooth
So believe what you are told
Believe the one who’s most bold
Watch the country be sold for profit
The fortune of a false prophet
For the pocketbook of a liar
The potato is on fire
It’s too late to drop it
The world will soon burn
If we don’t rise up to stop it
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 7:54 AM UTC