"kingpins" poems - Hello Poetry

**** masterminds steer clear of this man He's relentless a pitbull Lumping up Pinkman for no logical reason He's a madman Massacres Mexican kingpins and button men Knocks out Keith Jardine in a barfight initiated as a ptsd relief valve Maddog brothers Axe murdering elite eliminated with a bullet a fender and a little help from Gustavo Fring The only man to walk away unscathed from the exploding head of Danny Trejo debacle Houndog Hank the sherman tank is hot on Heisenbergs trail. Its almost guaranteed One of them will die Heisenbergs Bad But Schrader is badass.

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Jun 21, 2012

Jun 21, 2012 at 6:09 AM UTC

saul-makabim

Schrader (Breaking Bad)

**** masterminds steer clear of this man He's relentless a pitbull Lumping up Pinkman for no logical reason He's a madman Massacres Mexican kingpins and button men Knocks out Keith Jardine in a barfight initiated as a ptsd relief valve Maddog brothers Axe murdering elite eliminated with a bullet a fender and a little help from Gustavo Fring The only man to walk away unscathed from the exploding head of Danny Trejo debacle Houndog Hank the sherman tank is hot on Heisenbergs trail. Its almost guaranteed One of them will die Heisenbergs Bad But Schrader is badass.

29

sweaty forehead, a gory past wildly glowing eyes of oblivion shivering hands, sirens, bars freedom, imprisonment, razor blades peru, coca farmers, chemicals smuggler channels, route 36 franklin's face on crumpled-up paper rattling coins, benjamins, stacks gotta make it or take it gotta sell or abuse it flashing louis, abundant future sweaty forehead, ****** present biker chapters, brothers, funerals tommy hauled jim's coffin rick carried tommy to his grave cut-offs, gats, one call: ****** despair, hatred, vengeance, omerta mortals remain silent, angels don't rain of blood, a puddle of codes turf, plots, streets, blocks, gangs cults **** cultures, weapons replace shelter in a group home; the stabbing "shaun got heart, he a furious one -- can use dat dude, pay him up" black, white, african-american, chechens territories of unspoken laws intimidated witnesses, gay mobsters lured teenagers, deadly magic of power the old ones impress the new ones newbies will turn into soldiers **** or get killed; headshots of fear numbers on the forehead, blueish unwritten are the rules of some bribed politicians, skippers, knockos the one who wets, will be wetted others prefer the clarity of faith organized crime, rats and kingpins multilevel marketing, elevators glass towers, late and secret meetings route 36, the white magic of death it's all in the game "The only thing that burns in hell is the part of you that won't let go of your life. Your memories, your attachments, they burn 'em all away. But they're not punishing you, they say. They freeing yourself. Relax." (Quote from the film "Jacob's Ladder")

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Dec 26, 2020

Dec 26, 2020 at 4:06 AM UTC

maxneumann

Organized Crime

sweaty forehead, a gory past wildly glowing eyes of oblivion shivering hands, sirens, bars freedom, imprisonment, razor blades peru, coca farmers, chemicals smuggler channels, route 36 franklin's face on crumpled-up paper rattling coins, benjamins, stacks gotta make it or take it gotta sell or abuse it flashing louis, abundant future sweaty forehead, ****** present biker chapters, brothers, funerals tommy hauled jim's coffin rick carried tommy to his grave cut-offs, gats, one call: ****** despair, hatred, vengeance, omerta mortals remain silent, angels don't rain of blood, a puddle of codes turf, plots, streets, blocks, gangs cults **** cultures, weapons replace shelter in a group home; the stabbing "shaun got heart, he a furious one -- can use dat dude, pay him up" black, white, african-american, chechens territories of unspoken laws intimidated witnesses, gay mobsters lured teenagers, deadly magic of power the old ones impress the new ones newbies will turn into soldiers **** or get killed; headshots of fear numbers on the forehead, blueish unwritten are the rules of some bribed politicians, skippers, knockos the one who wets, will be wetted others prefer the clarity of faith organized crime, rats and kingpins multilevel marketing, elevators glass towers, late and secret meetings route 36, the white magic of death it's all in the game "The only thing that burns in hell is the part of you that won't let go of your life. Your memories, your attachments, they burn 'em all away. But they're not punishing you, they say. They freeing yourself. Relax." (Quote from the film "Jacob's Ladder")

45

take a close look at daniel blue: thievin' tommy's wallet floats thru his garden camouflage of a secretive spirit, bricks and daniel does it all for loads of blow milly meantime desperate since her square drawings grow into strife but that's how she acts out, love ya girl yayo, tho, remains the white magic... catch my thoughts, old friend, come over yesterday's enemy, now platin mutants lay down, relax, breathe deeply, 16 seconds eagerly governing are kingpins & eagles feel me in the midst of purple mist among dusk, dawn, and dusk, 108 hours insomnia, trance, return, greed, insights months vanish like hours, but still here you get me? this is much appreciated this is a highly desired lifestyle, kiddo especially when the mouth ironly hurts and you spot the shadows of memories

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Jul 29, 2021

Jul 29, 2021 at 5:58 PM UTC

maxneumann

Still Here (A Being's Insomnia)

take a close look at daniel blue: thievin' tommy's wallet floats thru his garden camouflage of a secretive spirit, bricks and daniel does it all for loads of blow milly meantime desperate since her square drawings grow into strife but that's how she acts out, love ya girl yayo, tho, remains the white magic... catch my thoughts, old friend, come over yesterday's enemy, now platin mutants lay down, relax, breathe deeply, 16 seconds eagerly governing are kingpins & eagles feel me in the midst of purple mist among dusk, dawn, and dusk, 108 hours insomnia, trance, return, greed, insights months vanish like hours, but still here you get me? this is much appreciated this is a highly desired lifestyle, kiddo especially when the mouth ironly hurts and you spot the shadows of memories

20

regional dissidence marked by ****** exchanges tempered anger lends itself to psychotic episodes and the children lay in gulley’s attempting to remain hidden – shattered glass crashes onto unpaved streets complete with ditches dug to expedite waste removal as the filth of a nation runs freer than the citizenry – enter technological gods bringing stories of prosperity visions of democracy and unity begin to shape in the heart and minds or so they tell themselves so sleep will find them – battered emotions bubble to the surface of faces pressed hard against stained glass doorways fleeting images of food strewn tables and shoes un-holed dance across impoverished and diseased brains incapable of self-supporting, they line tourists spots holding shabby signs and juggling rocks for pennies brandished with the gentleman who claims slave freedom – desert boarders separate families languishing for acknowledgement true Americans generationally linked to the very soil toil in agricultural hell as whites get fat on the backs of today’s slave system immigrant workers bury loved ones on the edges of factory farms saying Catholic prayers to a corporate god most well known for being the root of child molestation – cartel kingpins hire babies to mule ****** DEA agents load them into vans destined for the inner city As the forever war against minorities takes yet another turn –

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Jun 4, 2015

Jun 4, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC

s-lyman-temple

rampage riot

regional dissidence marked by ****** exchanges tempered anger lends itself to psychotic episodes and the children lay in gulley’s attempting to remain hidden – shattered glass crashes onto unpaved streets complete with ditches dug to expedite waste removal as the filth of a nation runs freer than the citizenry – enter technological gods bringing stories of prosperity visions of democracy and unity begin to shape in the heart and minds or so they tell themselves so sleep will find them – battered emotions bubble to the surface of faces pressed hard against stained glass doorways fleeting images of food strewn tables and shoes un-holed dance across impoverished and diseased brains incapable of self-supporting, they line tourists spots holding shabby signs and juggling rocks for pennies brandished with the gentleman who claims slave freedom – desert boarders separate families languishing for acknowledgement true Americans generationally linked to the very soil toil in agricultural hell as whites get fat on the backs of today’s slave system immigrant workers bury loved ones on the edges of factory farms saying Catholic prayers to a corporate god most well known for being the root of child molestation – cartel kingpins hire babies to mule ****** DEA agents load them into vans destined for the inner city As the forever war against minorities takes yet another turn –

26

Lord of the Rings, pinning Kingpins then Kinging-kings, Mexi-can and some can't you stand a slump chance peripheral vision, no glance B-boy stance, more ***** than lance I'll battle your whole camp, blowing your speakers, Amp'd revamped, and clamp't now i'm stepping over you tramps, those silly rants, got you stamp'd for getting carried away- u can't see my BARS- this ain't Saint Patrick's day. ever since i started rapping this way, ya'll flows start'n to look like paper mache I made so much REAL, paper today, but these Cheeseheads playing keep away, holding this Green Bay Packer at Bay, they ******* up the play, like a rain delay, feeling like putting the refs, to rest, for the rest of the day.Either way, my pocket's Fannie May, and the Lambo feel Cray, so like Sandro, they go pay, top dollar, no topay. I treat BARS and money the same way- up-up and away- so quick, you'd think I'm saving the day. But i'm no HERO, I dont swing that way. Villian on scene, looking for a fight. I Wonder Women- when they see, My D.C. then left Superman all ****** for acting tight. i guess that make me a Cript -tonight.

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Sep 15, 2015

Sep 15, 2015 at 8:09 PM UTC

Styles

Freestyle 103

Lord of the Rings, pinning Kingpins then Kinging-kings, Mexi-can and some can't you stand a slump chance peripheral vision, no glance B-boy stance, more ***** than lance I'll battle your whole camp, blowing your speakers, Amp'd revamped, and clamp't now i'm stepping over you tramps, those silly rants, got you stamp'd for getting carried away- u can't see my BARS- this ain't Saint Patrick's day. ever since i started rapping this way, ya'll flows start'n to look like paper mache I made so much REAL, paper today, but these Cheeseheads playing keep away, holding this Green Bay Packer at Bay, they ******* up the play, like a rain delay, feeling like putting the refs, to rest, for the rest of the day.Either way, my pocket's Fannie May, and the Lambo feel Cray, so like Sandro, they go pay, top dollar, no topay. I treat BARS and money the same way- up-up and away- so quick, you'd think I'm saving the day. But i'm no HERO, I dont swing that way. Villian on scene, looking for a fight. I Wonder Women- when they see, My D.C. then left Superman all ****** for acting tight. i guess that make me a Cript -tonight.

19

This isn’t a tale of snails and puppy dog tails This isn’t my love opus There will be no dandelions and daydreams This is poetry to fight to This is poetry to **** to This is poetry to **** to This is beauty This is art It’s exhaust in your face It’s fury after heartbreak It’s bleeding and *** holes and mold It’s the ache in your brain and the tugging at your soul Maddening, hallucinogenic, tongue in and cheek and powerful This is road rash and asphalt This is for the punks who spit in your face This is for thieves in the night This is for the battered, shattered and abused This is for those who can’t take anymore This is for those still truckin along This is for the addicts, ******** and opinionated This is for the single fathers ****** over by baby mamas This is for those who spit blood and get up off the canvas This is for those crawling out of their skin This is for those bursting at the seams This is for those who pick scabs for fun For those willing to fight and **** and feel Those who steal at will, who shotgun beers at 8am Those that fight bears with Bowie knives Those that saddle burdens This is for those too smart for their own **** good This is for the unhinged This is for those who walk the edge This is for the devils This is for the demons This is for those who can’t put the genie back in the god ****** bottle This is for those who wear their heart on their sleeve This is for the ****** For I am the ****** This is for the lunatics This is for those with poor impulse control The saddened and gladdened, miserable and merciful The maniacal narcissists with delusions of grandeur The glass half full types, swilling ***** The junkies. The ****** This Rottweilers stuck in pint sized packages The nonsensical. The absurd. The unbecoming. The shivs and the shanks. The me’s, myselves and the I’s. The notorious. The nefarious. The sinners and saints. The lovers. The lost. The last of their kind. The ones who broke the mold. The outlaws and rabble-rousers. The coke heads and kingpins. The ones who live in no man’s land. The beautiful. The scarred. The demented and downtrodden. The ones who give up Sunday morning ******* to put pen to paper. The attention ****** The anti-social lovers of humanity. The Molotav cocktails. The ticking time bombs The powder kegs and the poets. This is for those who can’t get enough And for those who can’t stay away. This is what poetry is.

0

Dec 4, 2015

Dec 4, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC

jason-galt

Poetry is...

This isn’t a tale of snails and puppy dog tails This isn’t my love opus There will be no dandelions and daydreams This is poetry to fight to This is poetry to **** to This is poetry to **** to This is beauty This is art It’s exhaust in your face It’s fury after heartbreak It’s bleeding and *** holes and mold It’s the ache in your brain and the tugging at your soul Maddening, hallucinogenic, tongue in and cheek and powerful This is road rash and asphalt This is for the punks who spit in your face This is for thieves in the night This is for the battered, shattered and abused This is for those who can’t take anymore This is for those still truckin along This is for the addicts, ******** and opinionated This is for the single fathers ****** over by baby mamas This is for those who spit blood and get up off the canvas This is for those crawling out of their skin This is for those bursting at the seams This is for those who pick scabs for fun For those willing to fight and **** and feel Those who steal at will, who shotgun beers at 8am Those that fight bears with Bowie knives Those that saddle burdens This is for those too smart for their own **** good This is for the unhinged This is for those who walk the edge This is for the devils This is for the demons This is for those who can’t put the genie back in the god ****** bottle This is for those who wear their heart on their sleeve This is for the ****** For I am the ****** This is for the lunatics This is for those with poor impulse control The saddened and gladdened, miserable and merciful The maniacal narcissists with delusions of grandeur The glass half full types, swilling ***** The junkies. The ****** This Rottweilers stuck in pint sized packages The nonsensical. The absurd. The unbecoming. The shivs and the shanks. The me’s, myselves and the I’s. The notorious. The nefarious. The sinners and saints. The lovers. The lost. The last of their kind. The ones who broke the mold. The outlaws and rabble-rousers. The coke heads and kingpins. The ones who live in no man’s land. The beautiful. The scarred. The demented and downtrodden. The ones who give up Sunday morning ******* to put pen to paper. The attention ****** The anti-social lovers of humanity. The Molotav cocktails. The ticking time bombs The powder kegs and the poets. This is for those who can’t get enough And for those who can’t stay away. This is what poetry is.

66