"lotta" poems
Hip hop. Equals art stop. That crude **** stopped musical fusion
Right in its tracks.
When it first landed, it was still music with a lotta spittle flying.
Not naming names. I listened to a lot of it.
Then Gangsta rap hit. Oh ****
Cant accuse me of blind judgment, I still check it out from time to time
How do you say.Get diverse mud flappers. Know the history.
learn to play an instrument and read it so you can write it. Then come back an see me.
Who am I?.
John Q public.
Pavlov's dog.
Tin Pan Ali.
Long Tall sally.
Sachmo. Scratch less.
Yard-bird.
Donald Bird.
Stubborn ****
Stuff out there is weak as thrice used tea bags. And cost more to get unless you got
a peg leg and a parrot ******** on yer shoulder.
Lyrically, man my six year old says more about less with **** left over. What?
Flame out digitized No talent constructs that make me wanna hurl, url give a dog a bone.
Tin eared, tone def hoochies and synthetic cool cats. Not to mention the rough neks.
Looking like they pooped their pants six times and forgot how to belt up.
There are some real deal talents out there but it is like pickin peanuts out ****
After disco died. Yes I said disco. It has been a circle **** in the cemetery after dark. Naw mean.
But I digress.
.
Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 4:42 AM UTC
dear lover,
i miss you. even though i’ve never met you, i can still feel your energy from a thousand miles away.
a face that can make men go to war for you. your smile makes time move slow, everything in the world makes sense. i find comfort in your love and warmth in your presence.
lover. i fell in love with your words, everything you uttered was. beauty personified in words. that deep energetic vibe from your soul makes me want to dance in your. elegance.
i fell in love with your mind, and i fell deep within your subconscious. a trance i was in. you’re my intellectual crush. you had me on my knees, you had me intellectually lovin’ you.
i had a dream we were both dancing to Eros’ beautiful rhythm. nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart, baby don’t think im out to hurt you. not my intention.
i fell in love with you and i never knew. falling in love with you was never my plan. but i guess it was God’s plan. we’ll never know.
even though we’ve never met. i can still remember the sound of your heartbeat, your voice so sweet like the heavens. and your movement so graceful. graceful. you’re like a Raven – innocent, beautiful, sweet.
my heart just skipped a beat.
beautiful soul. speak to me. i saw the beauty of life through you, beautiful soul. and even though we’ve never met, lover. i miss you.
you got a lotta soul, lady. that’s beautiful.
all i wanna do is admire your beauty from a distance because im afraid if i touch you. my flesh will be tempted to do all that is regarded. earthly.
i’ll prolly luh you fo’eva. let me escape through you in thought. beautiful lover. beautiful soul.
“touch me with your mind. hands are overrated & ‘soul’ is overused.”
the closest stranger i’ve never met. i became more with you. your lips i will kiss, your hips i will hold, and your love i will embrace. you have my heart. you have the key to my heart.
and the more i think of you, i miss you. even though we’ve never met, beautiful lover.
our hearts are interlocked in deep conversation. thoughts & feelings in graceful motion, love never known.
i saw us dancing under the moonlight. you wore a silk white dress with Queen Elizabeth’s crown upon your head. and me, just a man wearing a white suit with a purple rose in his chest pocket.
imagine.
and we danced in the cosmos, the stars were watching us — the sun and the moon were playing music only heard in the heavens.
dear lover. beautiful lover. beautiful soul. i love you. i miss you. even though we’ve never met.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 10:25 AM UTC
i was born all naturally
formed in a lax factory
im actually
a hack with ******* in my nose, practically,
every day, haphazardly
stumbling home, half asleep
i cant tell whats happening
vision begins blackening
im whack like kriss kross
crack like rick ross
major brown boy to houston
be like, "yes, we have liftoff"
dont like me when i'm ****** off
cause ***** i'm bruce banner
or maybe i'm bruce wayne
either way, i got mad manners
tearing down walls like berlin
preaching like its a sermon
potential begins to burgeon
i'll cut you up like a surgeon
killing in place of coercion
so you better lower the curtain
my head and my body are hurtin
so tell me how quick does the world spin?
i'm taddling on ya, you can call me a toddler
but the snitchin n' **** is somethin im never fond of
and i never grow up, cause i'm the neverland smuggler
peter pan turns into one of my best customers
i never grew into my head, im not cocky
never had the eye of the tiger, im not rocky
growing up i never got in fights or caused a lotta ****
but presently im screaming **** the world", i've got a bone to pick
i've gotta problem and i think its the probable cause
you hold me captive, keep me trapped in your facets of laws
looks of repulsion are what cause me to brandish my claws
constant compulsions reminiscent of prodigal flaws
i've gotta problem and i think its the probable cause
see im a goblin shark i'll sink in my nautical jaws
im not a joker im a jester with lesser facades
wrought with insomnia cause drugs are american gods
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 1:39 AM UTC
My complex brain keeps me thinking deeply
For hours it keeps spitting **** perpetually.
I think outside the box and write always,
look at things in 3D and cross the streets sideways.
This is the universe at work in another way.
Maybe I'm being rewarded, if I may,
For the countless hours put into thinking
About a fraction of mankind's problems.
And the thoughts about seeking answers to questions,
That will someday bring a resolution to our problems,
For the universal betterment and the good of mankind.
Maybe I'm a product of some social and scientific
Or intellectual experiments or the combination of all three.
All that was yesterday, when I was something else
If I was ever made a saint then for my past good deeds,
I have no recollection of what transpired down those dark Corridors of the part of the multiverse I came from.
So, if I ever did some positive things in my past life,
Kudos to that mass or ball of energy I once was.
Today, maybe I'm just one idiot with a laptop
Who has time to write things some people may deem
obnoxious, senseless and otherwise incomprehensible?
Maybe I'm an outlet for deep thoughts
And a vessel of wisdom for some people.
Through perseverance and the little time, I have on hand,
I have helped save lotta folks some precious time
In coming to acknowledge the reality of our time.
Thus, making it easier for them to see,
That things are messed up and that despite this,
hope looms!
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 9:31 PM UTC
the day i left for good he wrapped me in an inescapable bear
hug that made me feel like i was
gonna stop breathing in
3
2
1...
we listened to a whole lotta
tom petty which is the reason why
whenever i'm scanning through
the radio on those drives i go on too often
that lead to nowhere and
i hear "refugee" or "free fallin"
i skip.
i read a lot to him and he
always listened to everything i had to say
and the 290th time of the day that i'd say
**** and everytime i said something even remotely
twisted a small smirk would
gradually paint on his lips
and then he'd laugh
and say it was a good thing we loved each other
otherwise he would think i was severely
****** up in the head.
he loved my heart shaped sunglasses
and he said i made him feel
like he was living in a time warp
where it was 1989 every millisecond
of every waking hour of every day
and i loved his eternal youthfulness
that sent fireworks flying through my
central nervous system.
and when he released me from the
wrath of his arms he promised
that we were gonna sit on his
back porch and crack open
some brews at midnight
and tell stories when i came back home.
i miss him more than the sun misses
the moon in the morning light
my partner in crime,
my adrenaline ******
my sagittarius.
-z. vega
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 5:33 PM UTC
Johnny and Mary
Now Johnny knew Mary since they were little tykes,
Running in the field, riding their bikes,
Like other little kids, they stayed out all day,
Doing their chores, later they'll play,
Johnny and Mary went to school,
Tried real hard, act real cool,
Johnny noticed Mary started to grow real fine,
Nice firm ******* big behin',
Johnny thought he'd take him a chance,
He asked Mary to the high shool dance,
Mary said fine, pick me up at eight,
Dress real sharp, now don't be late,
Johnny started thinkin' this could be his night,
Throw her a line, maybe she'll bite,
Johnny and Mary started to dance real slow,
Something in Johnny's pants, startin' to grow,
Johnny asked Mary to spend some time,
Back at my place, we can sit and unwind,
Johnny took Mary straight back to his pad,
This will be the best night, he's ever had,
Poured a little wine and dimmed the light,
Made sure everything, looked just right,
Went over to the stereo and put on a song,
Then he gave her a kiss, slow and long,
Their lips met and their tongues did a dance,
As Johnny reached down and undid his pants,
He removed hers too and went to town,
Got on his knees, he was going down,
Mary started to wiggle, moan and squirm,
As Johnny's tool got nice and firm,
A few more licks, a feel and a pet,
Mary's hole was nice and wet,
Stuck in the tip, a little poke,
Then all the way, he was startin' to stroke,
As Johnny got busy and started to ream,
All the neighbors could hear Mary scream,
Johnny got tense and was about to explode,
Into Mary he shot his load,
A few days later Mary felt real ill,
Then she remembered, she forgot her pill,
Mary gave birth to a fine looking son,
Mary's father started to clean his gun,
Johnny married Mary at City Hall,
He didn't want her dad to cut off his *****
Johnny got a job so he could provide support,
He didn't want Mary draggin' him to court,
A few years down the road things didn't seem right,
Johnny and Mary were starting to fight,
There was a whole lotta fussin' and they began to shout,
Mary told Johnny she wanted him out,
Mary got a lawyer, just passed the bar,
Now Mary's driving Johnny's brand new car.
That is the story of Johnny and Mary...Later...
07-03-09.
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 3:31 PM UTC
happy
happy
i
just want to be
happy
happy
i am happy
when i am happy
so very
very happy
i would be very happy
if i had a lotta money
i have a friend who is a doctor
and he tole me so
Jun 14, 2010
Jun 14, 2010 at 4:56 PM UTC
|| ||
-------------------
\ GSL /
----------------
~~~~~~~
•
Get yourself a Deluxe Cabin
On the GOOD SHIP LOLLIPOP !
•
Get a seat at the Captain's Table
on the GOOD SHIP LOLLIPOP !
•
Find a girl who had Big **** !
On the GOOD SHIP LOLLIPOP !
•
or a boy with a Lotta Money !
On the GOOD SHIP LOLLIPOP !
••
Won't see a Poor Man anywhere
On the GOOD SHIP LOLLIPOP !
///
They all locked up down in Steerage
On the GOOD SHIP LOLLIPOP !
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
1968 I remember 1968..
The land of milk and honey.
The war was still cold but not
The Tet. That ***** was hot.
1954 I made my debut. Lotta my boys did too.
** chi Minh amped up his crew.
Can't. We all just get along.
No way LBJ. Young guys all over town stressin the lottery.
The randomness of body bag.
Friday hip deep in rice paddy.
Monday a letter to your moms.
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 2:16 PM UTC
Be so fractioned
my split personality be split
Never know who's comin' out
Kinda like the laundry mat
Does mine at the Wishy Washy
Funny how things get all separated
Whites all in a pile over here
Darks and colors over there
Breaks it down even further
Gotta lotta red
so that gets its own pile
whilst medium and light colors
be divided
Blacks and blues
just lumped together
Then it just gets all mixed up again
'Cause truth is
don't gots the dough to through
down that many loads
This riles Señorita Clarita
Thinks I'm cheap
so mostly, I end up lookin' like some
techno tie-dyed fruit basket
in girly pants
Yeah, still be wearin'
my sister's hand-me-downs
Be some hard times for
The Poet Launderette
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 12:09 AM UTC
Boostin' and we're mobile
But we still don't see no bars
Laugh it off in the back of the car
Smoking cigars
Whole lotta trouble lately that's been creepin in my mind
Cash low ******* status when I get into a bind
Settle balances breaking tablets in half just to unwind
Knock over knock-offs inching my self from suicide
I told myself that I'd do this suppose it's do or die
Cause I'm cracking under pressure influenced youth who will ride
Down to make this money they don't want me to make
I'm prone to make mistakes taking steps that I hate
Toward the door with more in store than what they see on my plate
But how do they expect me to eat?
No one's feeding me grapes
Palm fronds fannin' my face
Can't relate
To the ******** they paint
Fade to gray
This has been a public broadcast
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 5:41 PM UTC
The rug
Lying underneath your feet;
Been on the ground
So long,
It's stuck to the ground.
The fence
Standing deep, anchored in soil;
**** rooting down
So deep,
It's part of the land.
The frames are clean,
The pictures seem
Like history.
Once upon a time,
I was
More than furniture to us.
But now:
I want you to see me,
Like the door you can open;
I'm more than what's inside your home.
I want you to want me,
Like you used to everyday;
I'm that girl you wanted to make time for when you're alone.
Now, are you not alone?
Is that why
I'm the rug, fence and your furniture?
I know I work from home.
I know I got a lotta things to do.
I know I haven't lived up to the best of expectations.
I'm still that girl you fell in love with.
I dream beyond every bandwidth.
I take my time to really be sure.
I wanna do it without complications.
But I know,
I bore the hell outta you.
With my
Nagging that could turn ears blue.
But I
Promise that I love you baby,
You gotta see me in the light of the truth:
I want you to see me,
Like the door you can open;
I'm more than what's inside your home.
I want you to want me,
Like you used to everyday;
I'm that girl you wanted to make time for when you're alone.
Now, are you not alone?
Is that why
I'm the rug, fence and your furniture?
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 6:25 PM UTC
i've got me a ***** black cadillac,
stretched out—front windows rolled right down—on the curb.
with a French girl waiting inside, legs long as sin, sitting against the wide dark window
legs extended 'cross the backseat.
hiding her eyes behind big round sunglasses, smoking oily moroccan cigarettes
—writing about the way i talk.
there's a whole lotta crisp, cold money in the trunk,
waitin' to be spent on the furs she wants;
old books for me. and why not??
old books on art,
and i can't even paint!
just sit around not talking—read about Brughel or som'thin,
wishing my over-large, complacent hands knew to render the face
a fifth so well.
a fifth of whisky's 's close 's i get,
i get drunk and further away,
out now in that devil of a car, parked presently out
by the shed where i go most nights to sit in musty chairs 'n scratch ink lazily
on pages nobody ever reads..
—but it feels ******
g o o d .
my frenchwoman would like to know what i think of old Proust...
REPLY: he took too ****** long! // (a sigh can be a story)
—one could write a novel in the time it takes to
toss your load on a pair of trembling ******* held up in offering—oh i can't help but be uncouth!!
—i mean just the other day fr christ's sake i moved a friend in Waterloo
to her new apartment and when carrying up the stairs two bags of clothes and a toaster
saw wonderful little second year heading up as well so i
let her go first (at first glance you may think me chivalrous) and while climbing up behind her
composed in my head the following pome, which i dashed off later on a post-it
and dedicated to her exquisite ***
“all legs blonde climbin' the stairs, lamp in hand, yoga pants
hot & clinging like wee-ooo / hot enough in this cramped old stairwell as is,
carrying all these bags & boxes & couches up for a friend.
—hey when you're all moved in / you could come sit that thing on my lap.
share a cigarette while i carve slices of apple & offer them to you,
impaled on the end of the knife.”
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 6:38 PM UTC
.
I'm so proud !
::::
Now here's how it came down
//
A whole lotta girls at our high school
Come up with a new *** craze
Literally
Getting ****** up the *** by a billy goat !
In and of itself
This is hardly noteworthy
But (!)
They took it too a new level by filming themselves
Doing it
While also ************ with one hand
And jiggling their **** with the other
And basically turning it into
A sort of ***** dance competition.
//
Now this caught on real big
And the high schools in the area each got
Together competitive teams
And then a city wide league
Where the teams are judged on form
And
Creativity
And synchronization of *******
And mutuality of masturbatory modalities
( like oral *** )
//
It is a huge money maker for the schools //
Drawing 1000 of fans
Who basically
**** and **** off all night
In the stands !
//
At first the Christians of the town
Objected
But
Eventually it proved to be that
Not having to pay taxes is a higher CHRISTIAN precept
Than ****** purity !
//
Everyone here is having a good time
and maybe some of your towns
Might get something going
//
Some schools I know of
Are trying to include
Cutting oneself and menstrual blood
Into the completion
Hopefully new ideas will occur
And the sport will grow
.
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 1:56 AM UTC
Before I knew that I could fall in love with another boy,
I had already had those feelings stolen out from underneath my feet
50 years old cold and old with a lust for blood,
and innocence,
At 16 years old there wasn’t even a whole lotta innocence left in him,
But he worked and moved in places that felt like dark alleyways,
and promises that seemed too good to be able to break,
The way his tongue slithered out from underneath the church pews,
looking to lap up whatever he seemed to have missed from his youth
I remember the first time I went to therapy,
the way that my therapist kept asking me if I was confused about my sexuality,
It shouldn’t have started like that
Wrinkly, angry, and full of adrenaline, young in the head and sick in his veins,
He liked to touch them,
He liked to hold them,
His eyes always matching theirs,
he made it perfectly clear that he’s not looking for a fight,
he’s already fighting,
and he knows he’s going to win
I’m not a religious person, but I believe the devil comes to all of us in different ways,
Sometimes beautiful and forgivable,
Other times in a black t shirt and a pair of nikes, disgustingly promising,
a place to make you feel comfortable
We let so many people use our bodies to prove their points, it’s so exhausting,
I can’t tell the difference anymore between wolves and sheep,
But I know that he’s a wolf,
And I know that no one listens to a boy who cries ****
And the blood is always going to be there,
The alcoholic breaths taken deep into lungs that promise to carry on, are always going to be there,
The hatred and phobia of old men with mustaches and eyes that look just a little too inviting,
is always going to be there
Your Innocence is always going to be there, just don’t let anyone convince you that they can steal it from you
We are more than their torn muscles and “really, I’m a nice guy”s,
More than their “I’ve never done this before”s,
More than their “You don’t have to mention this to anyone”s,
More than what we think we deserve,
More than what love used to mean to us
We don’t have to love like that anymore,
Our bodies are new,
Not used anymore, but brand new,
We just have to teach our bones how to use the beautiful new skin that they’ve worked hard for
So to the man who taught me how to love myself,
You are nothing more than a distant memory I’ll continue to pack into the bag of luggage I carry and unload when I need to remind myself that I am more than whatever you made me think I was
I forgive you, but only because I forgive myself
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 11:13 PM UTC
One may be fun
but several can be even better.
She's got that certin something.
But dam if her sister doesnt look good in that sweater.
Had this problem since I was like five.
Two might be tricky.
But ******* off ten your lucky to be alive.
Im not a man whore just gotta alot of love to share.
A tiger does fear text.
And Nine irons okay and left behind underwear.
I think theres a problem when your black book
reads longer than gone with the wind.
I swear honey there's nothing going on.
She's just a really hot shoulder inwhich I can depend.
Saying goodbye never has been much fun.
Bullet proof vest taser peper spray no it"s
not a riot
Just taking caution probaly be easier breaking up with only
one.
Hey if it works for hugh's old wrinkled *** then
why not me.
But at this pace I'll be lucky to make it past
thirty three.
I think theres a problem but that's okay.
Cause if I get the boot.
I got some friends with benfits house's
inwhich I can stay.
Im not bad just a lotta fun.
Cardio is key.
When she pulls out the meat clever
dont play stupid just run.
And if I seem terrible keep in mind
it takes two to tango.
For what is the banna without the mango.
I think theres problem that I really dont
wanna fix my dear.
Im a bit of a effection ******
***** the cold shower how bout a warm bed and
a beer?
Call me terrible cause hell even I know
I'm not right.
We should take this slow.
So how bout we discuss this in a hot tub tommorow night.
And if I did offend with these word I've spoken.
Then please pull the twig out your backside.
Grab a drink have some fun cause was only jokin.
Feb 8, 2010
Feb 8, 2010 at 6:22 AM UTC
fragile and self absorbed I've spent a lot of time kneeling
but I've come to find honesty in admitting fear in the new things I'm feeling
there's something about moons and stars being beautiful but out of reach
that I've always found appealing
and I have drown in all my futile pursuits chasing whales into the ocean
but never with my written words, those pros are a dreamers innate commotion
emotional, combustible, percussive, explosions
I've survived a lot of falls and put my heart back together with duct tape
but somehow living always gives me just a little less than it takes
so my words now are few and chosen carefully
and my actions are my attempts at explaining those tangibly
every valentine's bouquet I'm sending
all the anniversary dollars I'm spending
each minute a loving ear I'm lending
but if two people are truly in love, there can be no happy
ending
Hemingway, that's from Snows of Kilimanjaro
an elegant reminder that we've one less day together with every new tomorrow
so I try and explain old emotions as best I know how
if only I could have known in those times the truths I know now
redundant, I'm a record with a deep scratch
tired, I'm the head of a burnt match
useless, I'm a diamond necklace with a missing clasp
bitter, and perpetuating the despair, never letting go of the holes unpatched
hopeful, I'm a dog kicked that keeps coming back
I've survived a lot of falls and put my heart back together with duct tape
but somehow living always gives back just a little less than it takes
I can see that in the wrinkles carving roads in my face by the mile
and I noticed that there's more lines where I scowl than where I smile
duct tape and regrets I've spent a lot of time kneeling
it's probably time to apolgize and stop reeling
but eating my own words sounds uncomfortably filling
so I guess I've said a lot of things that I'll never have the chance for repealing
somehow I've always sensed it since I was very young
that I would always be looking back as I rocketed forward
humming the songs that were already sung
reading old greeting card’s they've forgotten and feeling tortured
fragile and self absorbed I've got a lotta duct tape
survived a lot of falls without becoming fake
but somehow living always gives me
a little less than it takes
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 11:17 PM UTC
Srinu, you demented little kid
To have you in my life i don't know what good things i did!
You can really take a bad song and make it better
We all know how crazy you are about Helter Skelter
You'd make a better actor than the guy who played Bane
I'm telling you, for the music industry, you're the next Kurt Cobain!
Man I'd love to see you perform 'House of the Holy'
I'm pretty sure you'll never leave the guitar, not even for the Cannoli
When you get hyper you remind us all of the Incredible Hulk
You're the happiest kid I've ever seen; you never sulk!
Your moods are unexpected and its types are various
Your crave for those "SUBSTANCES" is hilarious!
I know that Nirvana has made your Chemistry easier
You can now point out Lithium on the Periodic Table at your leisure
That face you make when you play the guitar is that of a Negative Creep
And when you blush you remind me of Meryl Streep
You lucky dog, you share your birthday will George Harrison!
If you were born during World War II, you'd provide awesome entertainment by playing guitar at the garrison
Over the Hills and Far Away is where you'll have your tryst
A Whole Lotta Love is definitely part of your Wishlist
You're way more electrifying than Angus Young
You set the stage on fire with your guitar skills and singing at the top of your lungs
Linkin Park is your childhood and In The End, it does matter
The Caste of Glass that you're building will never shatter
Your love for Jimi Hendrix is stronger than a dose of Purple Haze
Cuz your love for that musician is true and not just a phase
Santana invented the Spiritual ****** which makes us forget all our fears
Eric Clapton breaks me down into a River of Tears
There's something similar between you and Red Hot Chili Peppers
You're both unique - and i can't find anything else to rhyme so here's the closest - Def Leppard
Continue on your musical journey and people will be dying to give you a chance
One day, the music you create, will put us all in a Psychedelic Trance
I know that when you go
You'll either take the Stairway to Heaven or Highway to Hell
I heaven, you'll be Knockin' on their Door,
If Hell, you'll be ringin' Hell's Bells...
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
a few weeks back i
opened my big
fat mouth
& agreed to bartend
this art auction fundraiser for
street children in
kenya
which my parents organize
yearly
to which a lotta local artists
big & small all
donate pieces to.
anyway my pops wouldn't
let me serve gin with tonic *(this being a front so
i could drink it all of course, if y'know me at all..)*
and bought bud light (horsepiss)
and for wine used several
bottles of the stuff my
mother makes
in town
at the Penetang Wine Cellar
which, though rich & darkly red
is over-dry and smacks of vinegar,
be assured.
so despite see-sawing between
indignant "No's"
&
commiserative "Yes'ses"
(i mean who else are they gonna get??)
(---and due in part to
my lack of success in
making other plans)
i end up doing it &
having an alright time
in the process ...
(hey i had a big sink fulla icy beers &
'probly drank more than anyone
else save my father's friend Ted!!)
---i even threw down
a bit o cash on a pretty neat little
abstract called "view to the bay"
but got outbid,
---as if i needed to drop $100 +
on some painting
when i should be saving ev'ry dime
for old España
in the new year.
so i crack another beer and
live vicariously thru my mother
when she picks up a oil of this island
with big storm & clouds comin' in
---and then outta nowhere it actually is me
that closes out the show by outbidding
a neighbour for a
photograph of some dingy toronto night
(buildings under construction)
and then go back to pouring more wine
& smiling & shaking (wringing) a few hands.
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 11:51 PM UTC
look ***** i aint tryna play you
Just trying to mack to you
Show ya real thangs
Embrace the world
With my **** brain
Hard to maintain when weeds settles
I get that ******* blowin' like a kettle
Baby dont settle for less
This aint no wild guess
Let me mack to ya ears and grab ya breast
And put yo fingers on my masculine chest
Yea i know like that gangsta ****
**** passion im long lastin blastin'
My *****
In ya puddy cat
Ya dont have to wonder where the daddy at?
Im right bebe have no fear
Droppin' game faster than the clouds drop a tear
You cant fade me???
Now that we in this relationship
I gotta lotta thangs
To confess im freaky as they come
Watch me roll up some sess
Take a puff with me
And lets do some lesbian ********* ****
Promise I won't hit
Unless ya let me girl i make ya forget me
Like amnesia
The ***** pleaser
These other nigguhs jackin'
With twizzlers
Im my ***** hot as a sizzler
Ask ya girl i bet im dickin' her
No shame in my game
You know the rules
Yo ***** chose me
Cuz of my m a c k
Still pack the AK Everyday
Just incase a hater got something
To say
So **** peace im still in yo ear piece
Now rest in peace ***** can ya fade me???
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 8:21 AM UTC
When
the
greatest
hater
ever
Starts talkin about love
Look out
cause
theres gonna be a whole lotta
sarcastic
cynical
Hating Love
In the future. :)
Jun 19, 2012
Jun 19, 2012 at 4:10 AM UTC
SS SKULL AND KORAN-BLACK
Belt-belt-belt-belt-belt-belt...
Ohhh Gosh your Lips are So Dead
Add Some of Blood nose on it
I'm Born Again HARD
I'm Born Again HARD
I'm Born Again HARD
Do what been Done To You
Do Do Do Do Do Do it
Do What Been Done To Me
Do Do Do Do Do Do it
(Sharping Sound)
You are My Sin
and
I'm Lover with Sword
(Death,Death,Death)
My Phone Screen is So Red
As I'm Typing Your Death Sentence
There's whole lotta of Blood
on my Hands, on my hands
And You're aStar that's been long Dead
☆●☆●☆
My Phone Screen is So Red
As I'm Typing Your Death Sentence
There's whole lotta of Blood
on my Hands, on my hands
And You're aStar that's been long Dead
☆●☆●☆
I'm Born Again HARD
I'm Born Again HARD
I'm Born Again HARD
I'm Born Again HARD
I'm Born Again HARD
I'm Born Again HARD
I'm Born Again HARD
I'm Born Again HARD
I'm Born Again HARD
I'm Born Again HARD
I'm Born Again HARD
I'm Born Again HARD
Do what been Done To You
Do Do Do Do Do Do it
Do What Been Done To Me
Do Do Do Do Do Do it
Jan 11, 2021
Jan 11, 2021 at 6:05 PM UTC
dozens of lamps on a string, flashing
bass and **** yous hurling in the air
"Cheese".
fifty applications out, no cashing
cold apartments and lots of life's not fair
"Cheese".
lotta pills in my veins, teeth gnashing
at this point, i just don't care
"Cheese".
brother comes out, plates smashing
parents won't share a prayer
"Cheese".
walked outside one night, two guys dashing
bones cracking and small tears and a big tear
"Cheese".
eviction, no help, no compassion
just another Kodak moment
Say "Cheese".
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
I have worn a ring
Ever since I remember the first.
I woke upto a lit’le golden shine
On my li’lest finger.
I grew into a walkable,
And it got tighter.
Then they removed it
and gave me a diamond studded one on my 8th birthday.
I wore it on my index.
I grew into my teens
And it got tighter.
Then I got outta teens.
And it got tighter all the same.
Then a brown haired chap took pity on me
And proposed me.
With a ring.
A silver one.
I wore it on my ring finger.
Then it saw me for a long time.
And it got tighter.
And I separated direction from
The brown haired chap.
So, I dropped the ring
And whoosh it flew into the tracks
with the faintest bounce.
Then, I was a woman.
The ringless finger ached my periphery.
I thought of my diamond ring .
And I sold it next morning at the Jewellers.
I got a Platinum ring, after a lotta confused psychology to take the decision.
I felt a pauper signboard afar.
I wore it on my middle finger.
And, I smoked a cigarette
And I drank ***
With the platinum shining on my middle finger.
Then I took pity on a black eyed fellow
And slept with him in a drunken state.
Morning I woke up with my bright sneer dimming down.
My ring was gone.
The black eyed chap stole it.
My platinum ring.
I never wore a ring
Ever again.
I smoke the cigarette
And I drink the ***
With none a ring.
I will, Will to be buried without
Any of the Same.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
On the road trying to make a few bucks, it's not like the old days. A lotta' miles and not many big hits since he and Myra parted ways. He's still mean as a snake and smart as a fox. He still plays like his soul's possessed. He's asleep next door, passed out on the floor. It's time to get him sober and dressed.
There'll be another show tonight, a whole lotta' shaken' and maybe a few hillbilly tunes. Whether he knocks 'em dead and leaves them yelling for more depends on pills and liquor consumed. There will be a hole in his heart and the tears will start when the lights go black. The King has gone, he's taken his songs and he's not coming back.
Aw, man, we started the whole ****** thing, didn't we? We made Sun shine bright from that hole in the wall in Memphis, Tennessee.
Now, stop and think and pour him a drink. Sit him up in bed. Give him the word, tell him what we just heard. Tell him Elvis Presley's dead.
Somebody go wake up Jerry Lee Lewis. Get that ********* hillbilly out of the bed. Wait till he looks you straight in the eye and tell the Killer the King is dead.
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 2:51 PM UTC