"loc" poems
Yes its big yosef a true heavy weight makin' earthquakes through all states watch for the snakes
In the grass never front for the cash who wanna clash?
With a mighty Titan I'm on a God status love hoes with the **** size of Trish stratus
Now tell me who's the baddest
ya on a one way trip with Gladys Knight
On a Midnight train to Georgia no one heard of ya
Ya flows is wack your skull will get crack fuckin' with the mack
I make a love connection from my smif and wesson learned ya lesson no plexin'
On my team one man supreme like a lion i be the king makin' suckas sing
Lullabies I feel ya soul cry reaching for the sky
Ain't no ******* allowed puff a cloud til the city unda a smoke shroud
Fools Talk loud but die silent known to be be violent
If provoked by a fake loc my pistol loves to smoke it stays high
Leavin' holy bodies to fry
Who could outwrite this? my style will diss rhymes deeper than an abyss make ya ****
Out ya own blood as ya face down in the mud with no crud
Touchin' my eyes sleep with one eye
Open scopin' and hopin' got more scams than Ken Copeland I'm still floatin'
On cloud nine almost to ten sippin' gin never see me grin my lyrics touchin'
Every last one of you wack rappers so come again.....
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC
Crush a bit, little bit, roll it up, take a hit
Feeling lit, feeling light, 2 AM, summer night
Hands on the wheel, uhh, **** that
Life for me is just **** and brews
See the hoes flock to you when your name is Q
Am I over-faded? Hell yeah it's true
Turn a beat on, ain't no limit to what I can do
See this Top Dawg in heat, but I'm a **** the world
I'mma be on tunes 'til God re-furls
You sat me down, I'm still tryna get higher
You looked at me stupid when I twisted the fire
Meanwhile my ***** drunk as ****
A ***** ****** up, we all ****** up
You done ****** up, I brought more blunts
Smoke back to up, you ****** know what's up
Too **** high, can't stand myself
I love drunk driving, man I'm something else
Heat on my side, you're more than welcome to melt
I'm 'bout to finish a pound, you're more welcome to help
**** and brews, **** and brews
Life for me is just **** and brews
I ****** her once, then I could **** her twice
Yeah, you heard me right, I might **** tonight
Wait hold up, back in this mothafuckin' ***** once again
It's the pretty ********** with a 40 ounce of brew
My ***** Q and we drunker than a *****
We gettin' millis ********** yeah, uh
***** **** and brews, unbelieveable
Got a freak or two, in my vehicle
Got the purple drink, got the yellow drink
Then we mix it up, call it Pikachu
With a little bit of crack, little bit of dope
Little bit of smoke, little coke
Little **** when they on them pills
Little bit of E, little bit of shrooms
Little bit of deuce, what it do, hand on the wheels
And I keep the illest, trillest ******* while I'm swaggin' it
Crush a bit, little bit, that's my pursuit of happiness
If I ****** her once, then I could **** her twice
If I ****** her twice, I might change her life
If I change her life she might hit my ****
We could have a some and we could round it off with three
Her, Mary, and me, I'll keep it strictly G
My philosophy upon living right
***** **** and brews, and head every night
Hope the ***** nice, cause I'mma fight the *****
Beat it down and **** I be clowning with
Black Hippy crew, how swag am I
Be the reason why, she wanna drown my ****
But I soon realized, she was super dry
No paper planes, the Vegas will fly
Don't act surprised, too much Loc inside
Let's get stupid high, to where I can't reply
Love smokin' dope, I won't compromise
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
I wonder why we define boundaries
The LOC's, The island, The territories
Do we ever understand our existence?
Do we ever question our existence?
Intrigues my mind these thoughts ever
Reasons my thoughts over and over
Do we really think we are big?
Do we really exist the way we think?
Andromeda being our neighbor in many
Thousands of these galaxies surround us
Milky way is one such in plenty..
One dot is our planet
Unique, beautiful, lively, colorful..
Colors are recent addition not too old though..
The time when existing boundaries were drawn
Colors and flowers too were born..
Do we believe we created colors?
Do we really believe we created boundaries??
We fight for territories
We define continents
We be so proud of countries
Our existence, Our proud, Our nationality, our Identity,
Do we feel we exist because of countries??
Do we really feel we are nothing beyond countries??
Religion, Ethnicity, Culture, Color,
Do animals have it too??
Sentinelese, Jarawa, Onge tribes
Living in archipelago of Andaman & Nicobar for 60,000 years,
Who are these people living in tribes?
Which religion do they belong?
What language do they speak?
How without fire do they survive?
Do we still think we exist because of names given by us?
Do we still doubt our Creator?
To bound self in boundaries is sin
Sin against the Creator
Sin against the Soul
Sin against the humanity
Sin against belief of life..
To partition our nations is to belittle
the Greatness of His
Who created us, who created universe
Who created "Himself" to keep our belief..
Continents, Rich, Poor, Oldest civilisation, Countries, Big, Small
Are these parameters to be proud of?
If we observe us from the top of universe
We will be a fly or a microorganism
They may name us Earthica humane
Do we have to fight for land and land marks?
Do we still have to divide the mother Earth?
Is it not high time we rise and decide?
United we make our Earth unique
Souls wander the whole universe
But to live they decend on Earth
Can we not be proud of planet as a whole?
No boundaries do us part
Can we not end the hatred forever?
Bringing peace, solace and love as treasure!!
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 5:07 AM UTC
it became a perpetual motion
a dance
someone hands the card, another lights
the amount of aching discolored grazed fingers was immense
put your finger on the flint wheel
press it down
karen thought we should make a sign
the scrambles of bruised fingers for a piece of cardboard
my fingers throbbed as i scratched our message on the board
i kept the pink flower locked in the crease of my hand
and threw them in air
“draft card burning here”
it was 7 00 in the morning
october 21 1967
i was only 17
my brother jeffrey was flying a plane over dien bien phu
a friend richard was screaming in the trenches of xuan loc
a lover michael treading through a swamp in mui bai ****
i stepped up to The Police.
The. Men. In. Suits. Stared. At. Me
Blank. Faces. And. No. Expression.
I picked up my Pink Daisy, and brought it up to their bayonets
this is for Jeffrey, for Richard, and for Michael
the men in suits stared at me
in a world of chaos and confusion
all I heard was
Silence.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 2:09 PM UTC
So proud to live in Queensland, for all it has to share
For anywhere else, in this great land I really just don't care.
I love the smell of burning cane
The ash flying through the air.
This sunburnt state was my home before I went away.
My wife and kids I left behind, hoping to see another day
I answered this great nations call when I was just nineteen.
That didn't stop the enthusiasm, boy I was so keen.
Timor, Iraq, Afghanistan, before I turned twenty five.
On return home to this state my life then took a dive.
The friend left first, the social life. No more did that exist.
The nightmares and the drinking took their place, to this day they do persist.
My family suffered most of all, my moods went bad to worse.
I went through stages where i almost gave up on everything in my life that had any worth.
I got some help in Hospital to help mend my tormented ways.
That way I can spend the rest of my life spending all my days,
In this sunburnt state of ours, at the family home
Now I only feel normal, when I am alone
I now spend all my time on the family farm raising sheep pigs chooks and cows.They can at least be trusted, I can spend hours and hours
This state is more than just a loc, a place you say you live, Queensland is the only place that has given so much, but still continues to give.
I love this state, ill never move. Till the day I die
Even if they said to me, it's easy if you try
But when I go remember that, I have been tormented, torn and broken,
but at least i lived in paradise the truest words ever spoken
Gavin H
20 May 2014
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 4:05 AM UTC
Dis is one dream that won’t be pleasant
I’m the master, you the peasant
Broken Ankles and Totaled Cars
Really!? More like Strange Dreams from weird bars
Guess it can’t be, Queens too young
In a club, hands w’d get tied, like your tongue
More like a wanna be princess, than a true Queen
You got weak poems like Death by Dopamine
Mo like, Death by Dope Poet, me!
Ya best run back to the Prayer Closest gurll
Time for a Waking up, I’m da King of the world
There are two things you can take
That your Unabridged Loc Bat and your Mistake
Show some Self-Control SISS
Gonna get your ******* in a great big twist
Your right about one thing, it’s My Fault
That you’re stumblin’ in the hundred, an I’m winin the vault
BOO HOO! Handle With Care
My rhymes nock your teeth out and pull your hair (Not me, rhymes. No violence towards women!)
I Release my poems, to be a my ****
You’ll be reciting’ Memories of You, like a drug
You asked the question, What I May Lose
It aint up to you B, it’s for me to choose
You were So Close, you could almost taste it
In stepped the King, now your poems aint worth sh…..
Yo Yo! Listen up all you shawtys
Ya steppin’ to the Kng, you must b chugging foties
Take a herd of ya’ll to get in my face
Talken to you, Somethin’ and Madison Grace
This is the toughest challenge you’ll ever face
Betta get fifty of ya all pseudo poets
Cuz you’re the what?
And I’m the KNOW IT!!!!!!!
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 9:37 AM UTC
you and I are like
the strong minute hand and the fragile second hand
of the old grandfather clock in the library
there’s a harmony and a connection
they belong together
but they’ll never actually be together
you and I are like
two cars on a desolate country road late at night
as they pass each other from opposing directions
for a moment, all they can see are the headlights of the other
blinded from anyone and anything around them
but it doesn't last that way for very long
the journey continues
you and I are like
this movie i saw once with a happy ending
but that movie didn’t last long either
or the hundreds of poems I’ve written about you in my head
that never actually lived to breathe on paper
or the wildflowers in the field that are killed
by the frost every year
when our eyes locked from across the room today
it didn’t last very long
but in a way it did, behind my eyes
inside my mind, I still see you
your eyes looking into mine
and maybe it’ll always be this way
the way the minute hand and the second hand pass each other
without turning around for a second glance
a second chance
and you’ll always pass another car on the road
perhaps the same cars day in and day out
going different directions, suddenly they’re gone
and movies end, words are lost, and the annual freeze is inevitable
and I hope that, eventually
I won’t look at you and search for a second chance
because when it comes to you and I
just like the passing hands of the grandfather clock
goodbye is as inevitable as the death of the wildflowers
and as painful as the headlights in my tired eyes
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
and i’ve lived years of
turbulence; to be loc-
k’d out. problems str-
iking as an adder. pro-
blems adding to the
strike out. end of the
game we all play but
for the lone individ-
ual, and i was hand’d
the pack of smokes
with a ten wrap’d ‘ro-
und. not an act of for-
ced reliance. act of:
– save your money.
you need it more
than i.
and i’ve learn’d to ac-
cept. to receive with
grace and charity, to
offer in grace and ch-
arity. that other ten
percent. braking.
January,
year prior, to be found
destitute yet suffer no
one’s restrictions. and
the numb fingers rem-
ind me of my obstina-
nce, remind me that
i’ve been made to suf-
fer the cold.
oh, how the frigid
men slept with a rotg-
ut shank prepared. en-
ding dreams in which
survival is their sunrise.
and i pull’d a scarf over
my face to obviate the
cold. and in the false
spring of year prior, the
trees were trick’d to
give up their leaves
budding life as an
early spring sacrifice.
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC
I don't know how to react anymore
and I don't want to see or read
or feel these words anymore.
I'm back to:
numb
too far past cold to:
feel
too close to warm to:
go back.
I'm noticing pieces of me
that are pieces of you,
and pieces of him,
all bundled together in little buckets
and big buckets and zip-loc bags
and old mint tin cans,
see them spilling from your open spaces,
and hear them ringing in all of mine.
Mostly from the half of you that cares
or the half of you the matters because of it:
the deeply-colored-yet-rarely-touched,
the wide-spread-and-beggingly-waiting.
the almost-loving-but-definitely-can't.
everything.
Jan 10, 2011
Jan 10, 2011 at 8:30 AM UTC
its the rip comin' up
with much reps i keeps my eyes on the prize
g'yeah i improvised on a uprise
cuttin' all the dead weight competition
my ammunition keep suckas in suspension
or lock down when i come around i clown
with the homies and the homettes
got the wet wet to get my brain set
for a drive-by suckas slippin' 40 sippin' 4 dippin' hittin'
multiple switches laughin' at these
punk sons of ******* unload my clips
throw there bodies in the ditches
cut off they ***** n leave it in they mouth
so they know the south
aint no joke loc cuz we smoke
suckas til they wesley snipes color brothers
like me bound for the penitentiary
its a gang were all the low-lifes hang
but things don't ever change
im trapped inside a maze with much blunder
i could've have been successful maybe
if the hood didn't take me under!!!
so many after me cuz we enticed to the same
epitome rap is mind my mind is rap
can't shake the flaks
see my homie in the caddy rollin' with tha **** daddy
gangsta mack kickin' drag to all the hoes with big *****
skipped hardknock classes
went straight to hoods college gainin' knowledge
graduated with honors
from the big timers tellin' me how to make a move
and don't get caught up in the groove
u gots to play it smooth
and be vigilant on ya closest friends
cuz they'll pretend to be ya homies but after ya dividends
thinkin' this bank roll they gone spend? but i lends
my lue to no one only a gun
up in ya grill piece thats the only peace
i see you laying and becomin' one with death
heartbeats slow no hards breath
when i commence to ****** know ya never heard of
me cuz i strike unexpectedly im makin' money
by the ton thats on the one son
ull catch me rollin' in a pimped out 97 honda
maybe id be better off dead if the hood
wouldn't take me under!!!
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 6:57 PM UTC
I didn't know him well.
I was only just twenty.
He was the first Indian
I had ever met though
he called himself a Skin.
Came from northern Nebraska.
He was tall, strong, quiet
and soft spoken
with a strange authority.
Somehow, he could sense fear.
At the end of the first day
over An Loc I was
well beyond fear, beyond
terrified, barely functional.
While we refueled
he came over and told me
not to worry. Every day,
he said, was a good day to die.
First time I ever heard
Crazy Horse's famous phrase.
In the morning, his waddling,
overloaded chopper took
a SAM missile up the ***
and totally disintegrated:
no wreckage, no bodies,
no anything left at all.
There's nothing
really left to say
except I hope that for him
it was a very good day.
~mce
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 9:23 PM UTC
Thank you President Obama
For putting on a show
You do the best you can, I know
That's why I'm a big fan
For this country, you own the plan
I will answer the phone
You will protect me and my loan
It's time I make a stand
You are the ruler of this land
I'll pray to God above
That everyone gives you love
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 11:14 PM UTC
this plain of death
corpse-strewn
stone lonely
smashed objects
broken by
abstractions
what painted this scene?
decisions made
by ample men
in clean rooms
faraway
good reasons
bad intentions
abstractions
orders given
and followed
a soldier
slumps among
the bodies
abstractions
stained fatigues
silent rifle
dead eyes
wondering
how this happened
and who they were
and why
abstractions
no answers
boy, man,
executioner,
victims
abstractions
killer or killed
life will not
go on
- mce
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 7:17 AM UTC
yip oh no i mean that choke
a sign of when you should probably leave then cope
a time where hidden things only treat don't *****
so mother ******* ill ask you if god is hope
are you willing to put your name on the line just for his smoke
just blow on his tree and to loc what he spoke
you know im still talking about the big guyy upstairs
the letter that no one dares to bear
a treat for only a fear where were here
to seek like a it was meek
and you know he can use that vocab like *******
instead of a ***** creek
or dentel **** if you mam
just so i can trash
his laughs
on the back
of his traps
that only lead to the facts
of most these people only feeding on minors brainwacks
this song is too delicate to finish on the track
wanna leave this for my people that only wanna treat it fair
as is they were taught to share
like there moms did right
hope this only came to you,
left only feeling half scr3wed
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 2:19 AM UTC
I have seen death's face
in many places
from Saigon to An Loc,
to the DMZ:
not by virtue, but luck,
he did not see me.
The others who fell
in those self-same places,
he surprised and snatched
away too slow to flee:
by the dumbest of luck,
he did not take me.
Now they are the forgotten dead
and I am old and weary
and worlds from Saigon
An loc or the DMZ:
my time and luck are running out
and slowly he turns his face toward me.
~mce
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 12:43 AM UTC
Umbră a Nopții, te arată,
Ca un vis ce-i rupt din Rai,
Ce-n lumină ești scăldată,
Mă chemai cu dulce grai.
Mă-mbăt de-a ta ființă vie,
De râsul tău cu gust amar,
Ești dorul ce nu vrea să fie,
Și visul stins ce-aprinde jar.
Pășeai încet, cu glezna fină,
Cu trupul tău sculptat în foc,
Privirea ta, o vină plină
Ce arde gândul, pas cu loc.
Și-n urma ta, tăcerea plânge,
Sub pași de vis, sub stinsul dor,
Se frânge clipa, gându-nvinge,
Rămân doar umbre care mor.
Rămâi, icoană neuitată,
Din nopți cu lună și parfum,
O flacără nemângâiată,
Ce arde-n mine negru scrum.
Jun 29, 2025
Jun 29, 2025 at 5:44 PM UTC
Forever now, a part of me is a part of you
Embedded in your soul, and your heart too.
I found you nestled in a constellation of stars
Putting back the pieces of your broken heart.
You’ve buried your tears everywhere you’ve gone
Hoping to see a new light by the break of dawn
Your shattered self can build back up again
In a new spring, soaring, like a beautiful wren
Gazing proud, like a sacred evergreen
Forever now, a part of you is a part of me.
///
Pentru totdeauna, o parte din mine face parte din tine
Înglobat în sufletul tău și în inima ta.
Te-am găsit cuibărit într-o constelație de stele
Punând la loc bucățile inimii tale sparte.
Ți-ai îngropat lacrimile oriunde ai mers
Sperând să vedem o nouă lumină până la zorii zorilor
Sinele tău spulberat poate fi reconstruit
Într-o nouă primăvară, în creștere, ca un wren frumos
Arătând mândru, ca un sacru veșnic verde
Pentru totdeauna, o parte din tine face parte din mine.
Jun 25, 2021
Jun 25, 2021 at 12:03 PM UTC
I am a
Lightly melanated,
Hella Black,
Adequately armed,
Heavily mediTated,
Well Educated,
Softly speaking,
Bare footed,
Luxurious loc wearing,
Essentially oiled,
Evolved Activist of a
Spiritual gangsta
Make no mistake...
I am a
Warrior in this garden... and while I Walk in the light...
I ain't afraid of the dark
My soul is in order
Thus, I fight
...I fight
Jan 21, 2025
Jan 21, 2025 at 10:51 PM UTC
Get up and grind through time the mind
in and out intwine
the mind ablaze a puff of rays a smoke
I praise Omega, go ahead and poke
Broke, "loc" but just for today, NOT for Alpha
Has guided my ways, these days our family still
Finds a way so we grind till the dollar bills turns to rays.
Vaporized by emotion, commotion
Vaporized by the endless need to consume.
To regrow too, to leave our imprint so they know once we were here, can they hear?
Thoughts in the grind, a trance that it sears like fire and the infernos that touch as I move for the currency harden my skin and thy emotion 'till dreams path cleanse again and I know I awake to God here again.
Guiding my ways so I fear not destruction, cause in fires defeat I learn something, those ways that are shown take me there then taking me home where I learn from my Lord, Omega marching to Heavens door oh' how I adore the days again I praise thy Lord
knows my ways, my ****** BLASPHEMIES ways. Again I march as I pray, take me where I need to be in fires or in ice, freeze, in space where a black hole tarnishes my face, now my mind bleeds and recedes
back to you, Omega I know one day there will be proof, but will that be enough for some minding their truths.
Conquering the dollar.
Conquering the land.
There is truth being brought by you so take my hand.
As I grind through time the, endless march till destruction, picking up my loot as I go praising my Lord in my consumption.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 12:39 PM UTC
A great man said
fatigue makes cowards
of us all.
When I tire I falter.
After 72 straight hours
of flying at An Loc,
I slept with my eyes open
and was terrified
every moment
I was conscious.
No more wars for me,
an old man 50 years later,
an old body bent
on a different life.
When I am weary
I see the raw meat
on the floor
and think a new life
is impossible
but maybe some
variations on a theme
could happen.
I feel like
a worn out raccoon
treed by the hounds of life.
I feel giddy
with self-doubt
as if the world
is telling me something
I don't want to hear.
"Devouring time blunt
thou thy lion's paws."
And I will sleep
and tomorrow
what is impossible
tonight might
even seem likely.
~mce
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC
He took the dagger
from the dead hand
of a Marine Major
on the battlefield
of An Loc
so the tame *****
wouldn't steal it
like the thieving
cowards they were.
Kept it, used it,
smuggled it
back to the world,
has had it for 43 years
and now it sits
on his coffee table,
still talon sharp,
against the day
when he might need
to cut the world's throat.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 10:04 AM UTC
Rollin down the street with lil Pauly trollin all the freaks with their Converse conversing on the Servicemen and the suicide rates waiting at the gates for the slow ride to make the left turn at the community estate, I state, its great liven upper middle in the greenest state eating entitlement cake acting like I am vital and any mistake would break the system we bump fists and switch the disk by remote control stroll down the veranda like a Versace panda rockin an ice banana and a Bernie Sanders bandana living breathing socialism planner listen to the police scanner don't have to smoke bammer like Loc in the slammer up in Alabama fresh pajamas flannel and polyester pics of a jester wrestler molesting a waitress successfully doing the Cosby ya'll be callin me insensitive but I'm representative of a nation that don't give a **** --
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 12:29 PM UTC
Why were you smiling
as you turned
my blue sky
white cloud mind
into a thunderstorm?
Was it funny when you created dust
out of my porcelain love?
Did you enjoy
sprinting over the twigs
that were my bones,
crunching them into the open, dried out pinecones
that I opened for you?
Of course you were smiling.
I allowed it.
I relinquished my tight grip of the tattered ropes
that held you to me.
I let your untamed soul run free,
setting fires wherever you traveled.
I still love that smile.
That smile that pierces my zip-loc bag of a spirit
and lets the contents sprawl across the floor.
You won't pick up the mess.
That's okay.
I let you set fires that decimate entire cities
just so I can see that intoxicating smile.
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 12:56 AM UTC