"kickin" poems
Yo Terry, you gone loco?
talking to yourself all the time now
oh, yeah?
is that a blue tooth or a blue ear?
is it surgically attached?
do you wear it to bed?
take it with you into the shower?
Man, you would never be so crazy
it can’t be you
it’s got to be your cell phone clone
hey lady, can you see that green arrow
it won’t last forever
what’s up…honk, honk
you’re on the phone?
we’re gonna to miss the left …turn
honey, you must be blind
how’d you get your license?
is that Lynne?
**** girl
it can’t be you
got to be your cell phone clone
A. K., another call?
and we’re supposed to be having a conversation
kickin’ it
now you’re text messaging under the table
and you think I don’t notice?
Dude, I’m not that stupid
and you, my brother, would never be that rude to me
it can’t be you
got to be your cell phone clone
yo Brenda, who you talking to out there?
oh…(whispered) cell phone clone
Leon, dude!
How many cell phones you need?
You’re talking on the one you got pressed onto your ear
There’s another on the table in front of you
Do you have one more?
You could be a juggler
Join the circus
Girlfriend, don’t you realize the light has changed
and you’re standing in the crosswalk in the middle of the street?
hang up the phone and step—yeah, you
Jeez...I…I see cell phone clones
They’re everywhere
Apr 10, 2010
Apr 10, 2010 at 1:05 PM UTC
picky
teaser
lota
pizza
flamingo
burnin'
gerhkin
wordin'
processing
pro
gramme
lots
a
purple
tan
tanging
tongue
tear
stupid
deer
croissant
croissant
croissant
(are you here?)
rich
and
faming
silly
daydream
little
cupid
castle
cooped
chicken
kickin'
malicious
software
(are we there?)
yet
cooky
suki
mikky
mopy
skiing
slopy
tear
out
control
shout
doubt
pout
trouble
double
choc
tim
tam
ginge
sortafairy
tail
of
a
bat
rat
smack
(should we pack?)
and
CRACK
goes
ankle
blowing
soccer
flowin'
talk
tak
no
silly
silly
silly
all these
years
(should I be crying these tears?)
hello
again
a
pen?
why
thanks
some
lunch
punch
crunch
an
ankle
swollen
ready
all
flail
fall
(?)
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 3:43 AM UTC
Well I drive the speed limit,
When I'm on the blacktop,
Because ya ain't gonna know,
If yer gettin eyeballed by the cops.
When I see the gravel,
Comin' up around the bend,
I turn the corner, hit the gas,
And my tires start to spin.
I get my get 'em up stuck,
In my pickup truck.
The gravel gets my guages,
goin' up, up, up.
In my pickup truck,
Ain't no slowin' me down.
I love my pickup truck,
Kickin' up dust clouds.
If it's rainin', you're complainin',
About the mud and the muck,
But ya know that I'll be playin,
In my pickup truck.
I get my get 'em up stuck,
In my pickup truck.
The mud gets my guages,
goin' up, up, up.
In my pickup truck,
Ain't no slowin' me down.
I love my pickup truck,
Throwin mud around.
When your rollin' around,
On the ice and in the snow
Sittin' in the ditch,
your car don't wanna go.
Who's the one ya call,
To get ya unstuck,
Ring-a-ding-a-ling-a-ling,
Ya need my pickup truck.
I get my get 'em up stuck,
In my pickup truck.
The winter gets my guages,
goin' up, up, up.
In my pickup truck,
Ain't no slowin' me down.
I love my pickup truck,
Haulin' people 'round,
Time to move is here,
And I back up to your door.
Packing out your things,
Until my truck can't fit no more.
I get my get 'em up stuck,
In my pickup truck.
Helpin' friends gets my guages,
goin' up, up, up.
In my pickup truck,
Ain't no slowin' me down.
I love my pickup truck,
Helpin' friends movin' 'cross town
I can't get enough,
Of my pickup truck.
If I had to do without it,
then my life would ****
Ya know my life would ****
Without my pickup truck.
I would feel like half a man,
Without my pickup truck.
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 4:55 PM UTC
Danny O'Dare, the dancin' bear,
Ran away from the County Fair,
Ran right up to my back stair
And thought he'd do some dancin' there.
He started jumpin' and skippin' and kickin',
He did a dance called the Funky Chicken,
He did the Polka, he did the Twist,
He bent himself into a pretzel like this.
He did the Dog and the Jitterbug,
He did the **** and the Bunny Hug.
He did the Waltz and the Boogaloo,
He did the Hokey-Pokey too.
He did the Bop and the Mashed Potata,
He did the Split and the See Ya Later.
And now he's down upon one knee,
Bowin' oh so charmingly,
And winkin' and smilin'--it's easy to see
Danny O'Dare wants to dance with me.
10.4k
There’s a Devil of a night each year, the night of Mr. Haim!
When the devilish and ghoulie ones come out to play their monster’s game.
And why some would seek to trick or treat on this scary day of dead?
Careful now cause gremlins, trolls …sprites and wolves, will offer up their dread!
Quiet, shush, I hear a pack of creepy-crawly boots…
Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo!
And the skeleton bones, clink…
And the skeleton bones, clink…
The skeleton bones clink.
That crafty-smith of horns and hooves is spying on these kiddies,
As Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo are hunting strays to do their dastardly-ditties.
Quiet, shush, I hear a pack of creepy-crawly boots,
And their costumes, oh-so-foul, the evilest of suits!
And there she is, that little girl who can’t keep up, in a tasty mushroom ensemble.
And the skeleton bones clink in her path to give her quite a tomble!
Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo!
And the skeleton bones, clink…
And the skeleton bones, clink…
The skeleton bones clink.
And Sammy Haim, that smithy-devil, a ***** hoof -igniting ghoul’s desire,
He’s howling out, demanding now, “Put that child to the fire!”
And little does he know, no little bit, not even a small clue,
Neither Ra’atan-Zu nor Boogedy-Boo intend on giving him his due!
For once a year on Halloween they get one night to spaz,
Get down and ***** wild and crazy and play a little jazz!
That little mushroom of a girl will play a tiny fiddle,
Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo, a jazzy duet with child in middle!'
Ra’atan-Zu, Boogedy-Boo and a little girl too as they get down actin’ a spaz! Playin’ all night, howling to the moon and kickin’ out some wicked jazz!
*And the skeleton bones, clink…
And the skeleton bones, clink…
The skeleton bones clink.* *
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 6:31 PM UTC
The first buffalo IVFed in India,
And the world is named Pratham.
It was produced by Hand-Guided Cloning technique,
By the Animal Biotechnology scientists here at NDRI.
High precision was not enough,
100% accuracy was the need here.
But now they have developed techniques using micromanipulator,
Still it requires expertise and it's only a tad bit convenient & easier.
The youngest cloned buffalo born is named Rajat,
It is both alive since July 23, 2014 and also kickin' its keepers.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 5:42 AM UTC
you make me wanna...
punch your ******* face in
pop six packs out the case and
drink til im chasing
myself around this house...
you dumb *****
who the **** do you think this is.
**** me all day, then you got a night cap *****
**** i look like?
some ***** you just kickin it wit
couldn't even put my **** in it
before you switched
just know, you aint slick.
hoes won't learn
til they ******* burn
I hate to be so blunt,
babygirl... it's your turn
so don't come to me on no i love you ****
save it all for the hick licking on your ****
i don't have time for the games,
shorty you lame,
you wanna bump me down...
***** watch me do the same.
motha fuckah.
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 9:42 PM UTC
"Dear Mama",
Question...
"Is life worth living or should I blast myself"
I'm always searching for those "better days"
knowing that peace in my heart will come In "Thugs Mansion".
Where I can "sip champagne
while I listen to Billy Holliday sing
and sit there kickin it with Malcolm till the day came."
Should I "ride on my enemies"?
Become one of "Amerikas most wanted"?
Or should I remember
that "the road is hard so I'll never give up"?
And "time don't stop, always going by.
So I'll puff on mine, hoping that it will get me high"
Smile for me.
"Won't you smile for me now"?
"It ain't easy" being a changed man
so when it feels like "all eyez on me".
I just remember that
"heaven ain't hard to find".
But I'm Not starving, I been eatin Hardy,...like the night at that "Gangsta Party"....
Certain things happen, I wana be happy so I have to make some arranges... Hopin in my life I have the ability to 1 day make those "Changes"...
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC
Kickin' all the way the Live Coolio
deep in ya Culo/
it's that Boy Yosef comin' with major Flavas/
with so Many Styles more than a Hair Doo Voodoo/
got ya eyes on ya know Who?/
so many ****** wanna Smoke me
Cuz im the New Joint/
puttin' sparks to ya Head ****** Red/
if u thinkin' about Frontin'' Me/
ill make u Crossover like EPMD/
Rap Fanatic since i was Swimmin' in the Nut Sack the Mack Attack/
hittin' all your perspectives
im takin' out all the Primitives/
in the Rap Game Shoot ya Stick
try again my- Flows erected as a ****
in between ***** *****
so take Chance it ya Want/
Watch the gun taunt
in ya Face a sad Disgrace/
Slappin' a new taste
in ya Mouth i Dropped it
my Style can't be Competed
you Obsoleted
i'm Makin Profits the Funk Baby!!!!
Many Emcees sweet as a KitKats
so cut the Chit Chat/
cuz im bout to Splatter their careers into pieces
Gotthem Envisionin' Doubles
like Noah i Told ya
the Tru Soldier Rollin' Dogia/
marchin' to the Beat with my Vocal
a Tru Loco/
when i'm sippin E & J **** an Airplay pinin' Indo/
playin' suckas close like who's holdin' the most/
weight? Pushin' rhymes like weights
Loots stay Connected like freight Train Crates/i Dominate from all states
that's why they Call Me All-State/
but ya Ain't in Good Hands
-tryna Step to the Big Man
keep u heated galore like Afghanistan gettin' in that *** like Sand/
so take Stand and a Bow cuz im the Prowl/
for that Number One Slot
ya rhymes loose as Jar Jelly
**** what the critics tell me
"Mr Big Stuff" girls call me "Heavy D"
From then shaft that lays between me
the Funk Baby!!!
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 10:36 AM UTC
Why I’m not “All About that Bass”
So I’m in my car cruising down i-49
When I hear a song with a kickin-baseline
*I'm all about that bass,bout that bass no treble, i'm all about that bass
I'm bringing ***** back go ahead and tell them*
STOP
Excuse me?
When did ***** leave?
How did ***** get there?
Was ***** on vacation?
Where they at tho?
Yeah my moma she told me don’t worry about your size*
But not because in a patriarchal society I am valued for my ratio
Of hips to thighs as handle bars for my man to
“keep me grounded”
But because I was beautiful anyway
I am not the number sewn into society like the waistband of my jeans
I am the number of times I look into the mirror and say “hey ****
And if society is too lazy to know that beneath these eyes but above these hips
And behind this full chest theres a heart
Lets be real
Were not going to blame Meagan trainer
She probably didn’t even write this song
but why are we idolizing these who only look to sexulize the femaile body instead of holding us to
a higher standard
and just think
you are perfect, thank you pink
we can be stronger, thank you Kelly
And no matter what we are beautiful, thank you christina
Why aren't these the women we are idolizing?
Because according to hot 107.9 its all about the *****
I am not something you can put into a box something you can stereotype
Just because i have big thighs and a ***** to match doesn't mean i want it to be pointed out
or catcalled every chance there is.
my body your body everyones body is their own
and deserves to be treated like its own perfect stronger more beautiful self.
i am strong
i am perfect
i am beautiful
my hips don't belong to you
my ***** does not belong to you
i do not belong to you
And thats why im not all about that bass
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
you were laid up in guadalupita
with camelia la tajena from la junta
and her tonto from la plata-
hiho-yo
shootin' tequila with pancho villa
jefe of the bandidos mc locos
- tweakin and twerkin chicas and cholos
and vatos ridin' with the vagos -
they were singing -
"*con cuerno de chivo y bazooka en la nuca
volando cabezas a quien se atraviesa
somos sanguinarios, locos bien ondeados
- nos gusta matar*"
you were kickin - breathing quickened
- bravo television tunnel visioned
to the tonto/pancho episode
en camera - exposed
pronto - camelia shot her tonto
dead - a perfect rose upon his head -
i like killin - she said
hiho-yo, tonto
we sang narcocorridos
all night long -
on the blue mesa.
r ~ 10/25/14
*song excerpt from:
"Sanguinarios del M1” (Bloodthirsty Men of the M1)” (2010)
"Translation: "With “goat’s horn” (AK-47) and bazooka at our necks/Sending heads flying if anyone tries anything/We’re bloodthirsty, crazies deep in the scene/We enjoy killing..."*
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
sometimes it's heaven,
sometimes it's hell,
I hope I pick the right one
if not, oh well.
I tried to play nice,
But it didn't work out,
sittin in back with a bucket of ice
with my held held high
you're gonna kiss my ***
while i kiss the sky
vindictive by nature
can't supress who i am
with my nose in the air
i'm like toucan sam
I'm a free spirit
and i don't really care
if you don't want to hear it
cause i'm free, free fallin'
enjoyin every minute of it
kickin back with a bottle of ***
if you're against me **** you
if you're with me get some
i don't like handouts
so hand it to me
gonna play these strings
like you can't believe
brings tears to your eyes
brings you to your knees
if i stop
you'll be begging me
please , please, please
I need more, more, more
like you can't get enough
like an unused *****
I tried to play nice
but it didn't work out
no it didn't work out
Jan 19, 2012
Jan 19, 2012 at 9:02 PM UTC
Do you know
how your body is fed?
Do you truly see
how we make the bread?
Do you wonder the ingredients
concealed like a bedspread?
Well, I heard a fact
That's got me seeing red
About artificial flavors
that 'bout made me drop dead.
Now, it may not be visible
You might see it in a museum
In a petri dish, in a *****
It's called
CASTOREUM.
It's not very pretty,
You wouldn't want to see 'em
Big business would tell you
If they were to take the veritaserum.
I apologize for the nastiness
but someone must be told
Its not on the nutrition label
Though it should be written in BOLD
I'm not sure how to phrase it
But it comes from the ***** hole
Of a dead ****** then
into your coffee, cold.
Once you realize
What's truly inside,
Coffee creamer goes from
Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde.
Now, I have been scarred
I don't want it cold, I don't want it fried.
I don't want it at all, I'm mortified
That they would put in the food I tried.
So fear the vanilla
And eat the chicken
And never forget that ******
was kickin'
Before it was deprived of its ***** matter
and stay away from things you don't know what they stick in.
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 2:38 PM UTC
And it’s groovy ****
The way my words maneuver it
A user but I won’t be used
By all the drugs I’m doing
Shiiitt
They talk abusive ****
Like they’re the one’s that using it
And usually I’d be busy on my timone and pumba bizz
Ness is what it’s all about
They’ll tell you anything to reassure the cash come out
To their hands
You gotta fight em with your bare hands
n realize a workaround to their plan
And on another note
I be kickin flows with a dopeness
Thinkin I’m the one
Yeah
I been thinking I’ve been chosen
Cold, I flow frozen
Shows, the vibe golden
Ghost the most smoke, I got casper choking
Actors be pulling mad guap and holding chart topping spots
Well they had a soul, sold it.
We don’t like change
Boy they’ve got us all brainless
You prolly changed this for a song about some ****
This ain’t it,
Re-spray it
Re-paint it
Rekindle
The vibe is alive, revive your minds sizzle
It is you, you are a god you are a ******* goddess
How the hell on earth could they stop us.
They cannot, we got this,
Positive is progress
We taking it *******
Don’t know where the top is
We Jam.
Like, this is your brian,
This is your brain on drugs
Well this my brain when I let it just
JAM
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 2:30 AM UTC
Man...
I should not even be speaking to you. You don't got that broken look, & your edges aren't sharp enough.
That exoskeleton never saw the light of day, it laid down and died before ever being concieved. Boy, you ain't no mystery. It kind of breaks my ****** heart though, yknow?
No, ydon't though.
I mean, yknow how it feels to bleed out all your aura, feeding it to, **** I don't even know, the unknown. Dark energy. The infinite divine, the great conundrum.
Givin it to god? Wherever you find him or her or whoever. Whatever.
I guess it doesn't really matter as long as you're happy.
In the dust clouds of the destruction the bedlam be loud & disgusting & lovely & you may find solace if you so choose. That ***** is hiding specifically there, you just gotta look. But it WILL be exhausting & exasperating & emotionally draining.
All the ice'll melt before it bubbles & becomes vapor & you won't believe it, all cause you can't see it but that's ******* stupid.
They say people don't like to be called stupid. Yet the sad reality is a lot of them are, or at least they just got a lot of really stupid tendencies & would rather not address those kinds of things. But see... man, I don't think anything's sacred anymore.
So simply. **** it, go with the flow, just...float.
Oh I wish.
I could take myself serious, so others might take me serious but I end up sounding crazy either way. I think we're all losing interest here. & I'm gettin real sick of tryna make sense of myself, to myself, to & of everybody else.
So if anyone needs me you know where to find me. I'll just be kickin it in the middle of "the **** like. This is my normal.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 4:06 AM UTC
Hay bud
roofies
razorblade coochies
Bubble gum
glue sniff
spare change electric
automatic blue cheese.
Marked for death
dont forget
to lay off the wet ****
unless you like the handcuff
kickin and screamin.
I want to smoke your ****
and smoke a jay
Hay bud
tell me
You got somethin to say?
Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 9:01 AM UTC
157 Riverside Avenue
I can hear the razz-ma-tazz piano, ah the sound so sweet
lead up to an old thyme rock tune, making me tap my feet
the clubs have come and gone, changing names over and over
but the music has never left, on this south side of Dover
rock and roll star wanna be's, long hair and fancy pants
kickin out the tunes for us, hoping that we'll dance
here's a tune by rocker Lynyrd, or one by Stevie Ray
even some old R & B, like Sittin on the dock of the Bay
we sat around and drank our beer, raising hell till 2 a.m.
had to go to work next day, and survive that crap mayhem
it did not really matter though, we'd do it again tonite
cause we were young and feisty, and the music made it all seem right
loud guitars and crashing drums, a fiddle and a flute
as long as it was in the right key, we didn't give a hoot
every Thursday thru Saturday night, drink shots and smoke **** too
it just didn't get any better then, 157 Riverside Avenue
Gomer LePoet...
Jul 20, 2010
Jul 20, 2010 at 3:16 PM UTC
Dear Mama,
Is life worth living or should I blast myself?
I'm always searching for those better days
knowing that peace on earth will come. In Thugs Mansion.
Where I can sip champagne
while I listen to Billy Holliday sing
and sit there kickin it with Malcolm till the day came.
Should I ride on my enemies?
Become one of Amerikas most wanted?
Or should I remember
that the road is hard so I'll never give up?
And time don't stop, always going by.
So I'll puff on mine, hoping that it will get me high.
Smile for me.
Won't you smile for me now?
It ain't easy being a changed man
so when it feels like all eyez on me.
I just remember that
heaven ain't hard to find.
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 10:16 PM UTC
A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME
HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING
I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE DEMON INSIDE ME
GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING
A SCREAMING BULLET TEARS FROM HELLS OWN KEEP
THUNDER QUAKES OF LAUGHTER FROM THE BELLY OF THE BEAST
A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME
HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING
I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE EVIL INSIDE ME
GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING
A STREAK OF LIGHTNING BOLT BLISTERING THE EARTH
TREMBLING AND SHAKING LOOSE OF HELLS OWN HEARTH
MUSCULAR SKELETAL CONTORTING
BODY BRACED IS FORCING
SPITTIN SPARKS GRINDIN' WHEELS
KICKIN' FAST AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS
FLIRTING WITH PSYCHOSIS
THIS MADNESS TAKES 'A' HOLD
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN A SPINNIN' WHEEL
GRINDIN' SPARKS AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS
I'M DRIPPIN' WET
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD
I'M GRIPPIN' HARD
ON A SPINNIN' WHEEL
KNUCKLES WHITE ICY COLD
I'M GRIPPIN' WET
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES MY SOUL
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL
SPITTIN' SPARKS
ON THE DEVIL'S HEELS
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL
WAITIN' FOR THE DEATH KNELL PEEL
A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME
HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING
I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE DEMON INSIDE ME
GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING
A SCREAMING BULLET TEARS FROM HELLS OWN KEEP
THUNDER QUAKES OF LAUGHTER FROM THE BELLY OF THE BEAST
A BLACK DEVILS TONGUE ROLLS OUT BEFORE ME
HISSING, LICKING, FLAMING & SPITTING
I'M ON THE RUN FROM THE EVIL INSIDE ME
GRINDING WINDING CHURNING AND BURNING
THIS RUPTURED CHASM ERUPTS SPLINTERING THE HEAP
WILDFIRE SPITTING FROM INFERNAL DEEP
MUSCULAR SKELETAL CONTORTING
BODY BRACED IS FORCING
SPITTIN SPARKS GRINDIN' WHEELS
KICKIN' FAST AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS
FLIRTING WITH PSYCHOSIS
THIS MADNESS TAKES 'A' HOLD
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN A SPINNIN' WHEEL
GRINDIN' SPARKS AT THE DEVIL'S HEELS
I'M DRIPPIN' WET
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD
I'M GRIPPIN' HARD
ON A SPINNIN' WHEEL
KNUCKLES WHITE ICY COLD
I'M GRIPPIN' WET
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES MY SOUL
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL
SPITTIN' SPARKS
ON THE DEVIL'S HEELS
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
MINDS BLEEDING
THIS MADNESS TAKES A HOLD
I'M DRIPPIN' SWEAT
GRIPPIN' A SPINNIN' WHEEL
WAITIN' FOR THE DEATH KNELL PEEL
THESE DARK WINGS
SPREAD OVER MY HORIZON
REIGN IN EVIL
REIGN IN FREEDOM
REIGN IN HELL
THESE RIVERS RUN WITH BLOOD
FLOWING TO THE FLOOD
THESE RIVERS RUN WITH BLOOD
FLOWING TO THE FLOOD
FROM THE GNASHING TEETH OF THE JAWS OF HELL
RASPING GASPING SEETHING AND BREATHING
MOVING FASTER THAN THE TOLL OF THAT FATEFUL BELL
WREAK CRAKE SHREIKS AND SHAKES THE HEATH
WINDIN' DOWN THAT STEEP SLIDE
SLIPPERY SLOPE
LANDSCAPE
RACING
THROUGH
MY
MIND
WINDIN' DOWN THAT SLIPPERY SLOPE
LANDSLIDE
RACING
THROUGH
MY
MIND
WINDIN' DOWN THAT STEEP SIDE
SLIPPERY SLOPE
BLACK TRACKS
RACING
THROUGH
MY
MIND
Apr 24, 2021
Apr 24, 2021 at 8:19 AM UTC
disconnected daydreamer,
party lights and streamers,
blockin' out the screamers,
grasping onto my femur.
i'm really real,
still alive & kickin'
not eatin' chicken
i'm strong as steel.
Jun 11, 2012
Jun 11, 2012 at 4:58 PM UTC
157 Riverside Avenue
I can hear the razz-ma-tazz piano, ah the sound so sweet
lead up to an old thyme rock tune, making me tap my feet
the clubs have come and gone, changing names over and over
but the music has never left, on this south side of Dover
rock and roll star wanna be's, long hair and fancy pants
kickin out the tunes for us, hoping that we'll dance
here's a tune by rocker Lynyrd, or one by Stevie Ray
even some old R & B, like Sittin on the dock of the Bay
we sat around and drank our beer, raising hell till 2 a.m.
had to go to work next day, and survive that crap mayhem
it did not really matter though, we'd do it again tonite
cause we were young and feisty, and the music made it all seem right
loud guitars and crashing drums, a fiddle and a flute
as long as it was in the right key, we didn't give a hoot
every Thursday thru Saturday night, drink shots and smoke **** too
it just didn't get any better then, 157 Riverside Avenue
Gomer LePoet...
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
I am an introvert,
Please leave me be.
I don't speak non-sense,
I am shy,
Chill my own way,
Like my own company,
Than rather be in yours.
So please leave me be.
Please manage to understand me,
I am a few words man.
Won't give a **** to explain myself either,
Nevermind what the people think,
just leave me be!
Who said what!?
When the team party is!?
Who's that new girl in the office!?
Who's fuckin' whom?!
Don't care!
Need no body,
Gonna be kickin' alone,
Better be lonely than hurt,
So leave me be!
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 2:43 PM UTC
it had better be
the best
of me
want to go out
kickin’ & screamin’
with words that rip
those ***** bandages
holding us together,
rip’em with more than the
merest passing ounce of
a simplistic
ouch
poetry,
a sun reflector of
the daily of living, you’re up,
then floor crawling,
not for the first time,
and most likely,
you
never saw the sucker-
sunburn-(pow)-punch
hitting you from behind
the muddling of memories,
them, that can weep and sweep
you into comfort, sustained,
by the knowing at that exact
moment, I,
gave you
the best of me
no joke;
yeah I’m young(ish),
partied hard, fell hard-in love.
only to be busted opened up,
like too many else…nothing
there to write home about,
but to write a poem that
survives in someone else’s
heart, that would be miraculous,
as grand as the grand things
and truly great people I know,
but hello, poets,
this promise, for real
but David Foster, et.al,
said all this better,
and so melodiously
~~~
“And I think I've gone this far
Because of you
Could be no other love but ours
Will do
No one will ever touch me more
And I only hope that in return
No matter how much we have to learn
I saved the best of me for you”
Aug 31, 2024
Aug 31, 2024 at 12:53 PM UTC
The killing fields
Broke
Crippled men wept
Nothing else to do
But
Accept
Troubled in a mood
That ain't a tude
Listen to that rhyme
In an inept
Time
Oh loose canon's
That rinse
A soul
Of blue
Inside this body
Ain't not a thing
Just a mix of medicine
With a side of sin
Been listening to a heart beat lately
Hearing these debates with men in high say
Ever listened to the crow of old lady low
No?
Well you should get to know
Kickin' back a last minute trap
For a lady that I thought I knew
She said her name was Emmy Lou
But it just wasn't so'
May 4, 2011
May 4, 2011 at 4:50 PM UTC
I saw a banner
“See something say something”
bestriding a Union City street
raising eyebrows of suspicion
in a hood’s ***** retreat
I see blood red MAGA caps
embolden distemperate fits
ready to answer jingoistic dissings
with an *** kickin liberty chit
I see a Blue Line stained flag
It slices a field of united states
a wall to seperate us from them
God save us from reprobates
I hear shouts hailing militarism
saluting troops marching to war
Patriots offer sons and daughters
from families of the nation’s poor
I see a hoisted Gadsden Flag
boasting Don’t Tread on Me
true liberty a hissing asp
venomous country tis of thee
I see the stirring marches
aggrieved white nationalists sing
Confederacy of Blood and Soil!
cries for freedom ring
Music:
Lotte Lenya in Alabama Song
by Kurt Weill recording 1930
Art:
George Grosz
Vienna Street Fight
Puyallup
7/10/18
jbm
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 8:17 PM UTC