!!!nopoem

So, our hero of tha day waz DJ Herc  
He b driven’ lil Mizz Dazze ‘round, in a pimped out Merc  
Queensbridge waz tha birthplace of Hip-Hop  
Red alert, it just won’t stop  
It will hurt uz a bit  
No more than a **** wid a hit  
Wee all thank Merc 4 puttin’ on dat show  
Smokin’ sum **** n angel dust, wid sum real blow  
 
A bro named, Coke LA Rock, waz also a financier friend of mine  
Handin’ out goodies 2 tha children in-line, all tha time  
Nickel bag half n ounce, quarter pound pow, now wee poppin’  
Az long az tha music izn’t stoppin’ and tha rocks r still droppin’  
If champagne waz still a flowin’, then tha freaks wood b steppin’ in line  
Hotel, Motel, u don’t tell, wee don’t tell, one-time root 9  
There’s notta man dat can’t b thrown, a horse dat can’t b rode  
A bull dat can’t b stopped, a disco dat can’t b rocked, can u decode  
 
Were u @ dat famous house party, thee dope  
Spinnin’ tha holy crates of hip-hop, wee hope  
A1 B-boy from every known neighborhood, wid a scent  
From JC, Tony D’, Sweet n Sour, 2 super DJ ‘Fcukin’ Clark Kent  
Sellin’ nickel bags of cannabis, 2 miss layD hoes to mi crew  
Made mi coin roll into notes, helping outta few dat I knew  
Hip-Hop waz made 4 peace, love, unity n fun  
Still b countin’ mi riches, retired n still layin’ in tha hot sun

Wait, hold on,
what'd you just say?
hold on a sec,
I don't think I heard you,
& anyway
can you repeat that again?
say,
AGAIN my "friend"?
saaaay what!?

You cannot be serious.
Not cool,
I got your "number "

Let me dig the wax out of my ears,
If I think I heard that correctly,
well,
perhaps you better tell
& retell
me just ...one ...more ...time,
paaaleeease, be real
are you.... for REAL?

Ummm no,
don't know how to break this to you
but ain't gonna happen,
maybe you just need to speak up,
am I,
going deaf?
Are you???
I need to write this **** down,
so I can,

BELIEVE it & then I can,
retrieve it,
Not OK, EVER,
Not gonna happen, not NEVER
& it shouldn't either,

If I wanted someone I would let 'em know
No it ain't no kinda striptease girly show
& boy you just gotta go,

My right hand has an really bad itch
& my left eye has a really bad twitch
it ain't I'm a fool
& I ain't no really bad *****
I could be if I'm forced
I could be a REALLY bad witch

Me, cast a spell?
Why I'll never, ever tell,
Hey what's that smell?
Your just ROTTEN
to the core I said I before
soon you'll be forgotten,

I might be right handed,
but the left one demanded,

& right here's a door,
but my left is unlucky
itching is just very, very sucky
no it isn't just ducky,
way way more than simply
ucky yucky
****

A sticky icky sitch,
Grandmother told me
watch the signs
as they will remind,
& I wish she could just hold me
&  if she could just scold me
I'm just very glad she told me
& told me,

You speak of being "professional"
& I most definitely am,
my field of work requires it,
so does life, love & everything valuable,
like poetry,

Except you're not laughing
I'm not either,
no, no, no, not funny
at ALL,
my name isn't "Charlita" either,
you musta gotta a lotta nerve,
boy, you
must got a huge set
of *****
act like a filthy bull
hung like a proverbial horse
( cuz I hear your not )
& of course, of course,
of course,
I hope you like 'em too,
cuz you're gonna maybe need 'em

Cuz' you have ZERO respect for women
for yourself or for others
sorry for how you were raised
musta been a real mother-******
an old used up empty angry trucker
well I ain't no foolish  sucker,

No excuses justify making someone actually fear your crazy & lazy ***,

I ain't no female dog,

I'm a daughter, a Mother
a lovely loving lover,
I gotta couple loving Brothers
I have cousins & a Son,
No I ain't the one,
I'm a Sister, a friend
on whom they all can always depend
and this here voice they will defend,
or give a hand one they gladly lend,
& be with me until the end,
a message of hope to all I send,

So don't look at me that a way
Why don't you hear the words I say
& say & say?
you are such a CREEP,
I don't know at night
I don't know how you ever, ever get good sleep,

A constant loser,
such wicked bad, bad verbal abuser
a drunken, drugged out
& broke-down, low-down,
get outta my town abuser,
in Brooklyn you'd even be worse,
a lowly hooser,
I ain't gonna be your lil' **** poetic muser
perhaps a ride, oh look right here,
here's a waiting empty cruiser,

Thank you dear sweet poet
& betcha didn't even know it,
cuz I didn't get to show it,
take this man right here,
yes him, take him my dear,
a bumpy ride ain't all you gotta fear,

He's the one in the foggy drunken stooper,
I really, really wish,
it was just a silly, silly blooper,
my rugged righteous local Trooper

Saving souls & the defenseless
his job is just so relentless,
imprisonment should not be for all,
so when they get a call
Notta emergency, maybe technically,
still, State Police
-how can I help you?

Especially where I am supposed to feel most comfortable & safe,

Shouldn't feel like your skin is crawling
you don't get to me
you can't,
I'm all done with all the bawling,
but respect & justice
are
for every
ONE of us,

You must love going back to jail
& you're going to have a good long tale
to tell in there so go ahead & share
I really couldn't care, at all
but,
I do,
I couldn't care much more about myself
or about right & wrong
or care any less about you,
what you SEE as fair?

My pen, is poetic justice,
there's a poison in my pen
you should be most terrified
whilst I'll be feelin really ' Zen

Poison darts might be all right for bad animals,
Or ones who just need to be put back into the wild
who act like a completely ignorant adult child,
but you know better than that,
Sometimes I might wanna
put it in a poison apple for someone,
like you,
but no,

I bleed & I bleed,
so go ahead  
& read, read & read
I'm not a tattle,
this is a just a truly poetic need,
just another weary battle,
with theives who believe,
& believe in their unending greed
their very, bad, bad misdeeds
ones we mustn't,
we mustn't trust just words
action SPEAK the

LOUDEST

The Thunder Rolls,

Just write, I hear
behind all the painful memories & fear
that frightened girl in a corner
Everything is heightened,
I tried, I tried to warn her,
like a beautiful storm
but never, ever did I scorn her,

As hearts skip,
hear my battle yip
here's a friendly lil' tip,

She tells how human leopards,
apparently,
don't change their stupid spots
better run she says,
a fire of hell it might be kinda hot,
& an appealing prospect you are most definitely, definitely not,

& Don't worry I'm keeping track
you can act sorta nice at times,
but respect is what you seriously lack
& I'm not taking your targeted attack,

Soooo yeah,
& guess what I got?
Take a stab, go ahead, just give it a shot,
patience she ain't the one I got,
my fired feet are feeling plenty hot,


Just take a wild guess
it ain't a wild hair across my ***,

You got as good a chance at guessing my answer
as understanding my personal boundaries

I have two things actually for you
1 is not a ****** "favor"
or "servicing"
the other is
a real BIG surprise?


ZERO tolerance.

Cherie Nolan

Tell me will you poet?
tell me sweetly in my ear,
tell me of your darkest sin,
and of your hidden fear,
then I will tell it back to you ,
and jot it right down here,
so tell me if you go with it ,
just what you wish to hear?

( I'm listening )

I can tell you that you're perfect,
that you're nice as nice can be,
an I'll tell you that I am your friend,
that you have a friend in me,

( ugh...not so much )

I'll tell you-
you're the handsomest,
as handsome as a star,
the dreamy one from childhood,
who lives somewhere a far,

( I wish... )

I'll tell you that you're wonderful,
that you're honest -
and you're sweet,
an I'll be at your beckon call,
just waiting at your feet,
I will be the sweetest girl,
that you will ever meet,

( Oh boy )

I'll curve the pretty world you view,
an distort it if I must,
tell me will you poet,
are my words the ones you trust?
I can tell a sad goodbye,
or sheets we tangle up in lust,

( ....uh..notta chance, but-)

I can tell of heated passion,
of heated lovers in the night,
while some have heated *******,
some others have a fight,
either way with all that heat,
there's hope they both ignite,
an when you cut your own hand off,
it's only YOU-
you spite,

( OK don't get pissy )

So I can kiss you with my paper,
I can caress you with my pen,
I can leave you feeling anxious love,
or I can leave you feeling zen,
I can be beside you there,
just name it where and when,

( hope not tho )

I can mention that you're genius,
just the smartest guy I know,
except for when it comes to love,
and then it's all for show,
or I can just omit that part,
so no one ever know,

( I'm sure you'd prefer that )

I can tell you any fake thing,
so sweetly in your ear,
it may not be the truth though,
and there in lies the fear,
if I tell you only truth then,
when I'm drawn in really near,
then tell me will you poet,
what should I say my dear?

( oy vey )

Because some objectified objects,
well they have opinions too,
and flattery gets you no where see,
even if these facts I say are true,
it's only in a certain light,
when you tip it all askew,
so that everyone can finally see,

The real "beauty" there in you,
as it all comes out,
now so clearly into view,

And I wonder why would I-
ever waste a single precious breath?!

Ma Cherie © 2017

its the difference between separation and anxiety
that breath taken and the stars you see
my head spinning and the scars they bleed
hands with trees and parts for thieves
taking more of our wants notta needs
deceive and leave before our guilt does freeze
precede to do what our greed internal feeds
triggers the fingers that only haunt our sleep
it treats the feet as stumps
smiles flip flop and fronts
drugs snorted huffed and blunts
man thats just the story of my month
mouth cancer after spliffs with lunch
abdominal six pack or beer crunch
i can stop taking all the medicine that is you
an addiction that i didnt ever see before it grew
its true
who knew
that you
would only humility the few
that tried,
never lied
and flew beyond more then his backyard or stoop

Do other people ever look at me and see poetry?
Some bystander on a corner
young or old
loner or lord
and wonder about my comings and goings?  
Have they created scenarios for me in their heads?
Mazes that the fictional me must traverse
Have they speculated on my love life?
"Oh, that man has been hurt. you can see it in the way he walks."
Do they listen to my order at the coffee shop?
They must think I lack imagination.
Plain coffee, plain clothes.
I hardly make a peacock of myself
Do they envision my morning routine?
He psyches himself up in the mirror first.
Today he asks that girl out.
This is the day his nephew becomes a man
Would I take the young lad to a ******* or a church?
How can you even tell someone's character?
Are there people who dress and act so they can't be read?
Are there people with magic eyes that cut through my disguise?
Are there people who want to save me, or be saved by me?
That guy would make a good protagonist in my novel.
How many layers of reality have I unwittingly dived down just by being observed?
Do people think about things like this?
Doesn't it get in the way of their lives?
Because I sure don't.
And it defintely doesn't.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
Never.
Notta once

I suppose, all that has been said, is said to have been contained
in the canon… what I means to say, I mean
everybody
knows
its eber-tongue
hen en-I,
Enkidu, where are you?

Dusty trails, speak well of water on this way.
The deer and the antelope drink every day.
In the time
I was alive, many lies fought for my attention.

I knew more than one thing about every thing,
I thought I could be of best use
as a sharer.
teller of told tales, singer
of the songs in the air, and then
there
was radio,
and I was a child,
listening… with many more of my sort than anticipated
hearing white noise laced with wishes once
made bound to regulated times and steps
- odd boom boom doom boom
-on and on as tellers call all ye told old tales come in
free
right way to keep time to come
become time to go be,
- odd boom boom doom boom - odd boom boom doom boom
-on and on as dancers call all ye  ol'doe-see-doe
- edge of ever on a tiny spider's kite, we are the light
weyekin, we guide you, when you listen,
this is the way
walk ye, init, set
drop. Settle, solid, si,
walk the canyon, our grandfather, on my mother line,
built, and as he built, he
J.C.Boyett, met a man, willing to use a picked up magic
trick to make a trail to the bottom,
for to make somebody rich
prospectin' for batshit,
yep, nitrates, as in
nitro-glycering, stabilized with tarry pine saw dust
twist
tight, right, in a Mason Jar, metaphorically speaking,
if we agree to make this easy,
we can move the invisible crystal mountain. AI gotcha.
thinking may
be a giant radio, making us think
reality has this.
This and other resting places, landmarks, history set
for me, I was only there, one of the other Gumps,
who lived to rear unbroken children,
free from financial dread,
at the common level labor class,
endentured and polygripped

we can bite off more than most can swallow,

as collected from bits and pieces of literature,
literal retelling of tales told to teach
a child choice,

choose the good and hate, wait, hate

ta, beel gotta be paid,
the attention, usual tip to jump start
an actual engine
https://biblehub.com/hebrew/2870.htm

Definition: "good for nothing", an Aramean (Syrian)

who says, idunno, but AI may, say may is my word,
may obeys me, as if I may know any thing
to any depth. And never interpret the vision as reason
for war.

Truth to you be, flush the lies you know now, you hold,
to hold others to the task of paying attention,

for nothing, save the use of knowing how to
read, when you wish to know
the meaning of a thing, any known, on any level of life's
pearling swirl of pushing and pulling and playing

no winning innings or taking bats,
or running laps, prepped to punish any who displedge
alliegiance to the story as we hold it
now
in our military mind. Semper fi, and they say Boo, Jah
these days, having failed to feel the loss

the faith of our mother's, born up under,
until the time I was alive, simultaneously
with more sublingual mortal minds hearing
Good Night Irene, from those ***** ******
hill billy sangers, boy, howdy
we sang, dang me

re boots
made for walkin'
down hill side, shale,
takin' to a realm of reasons to sense,
not see, but know, a breach

in the barriers we can construct in stories,
now, we got cg, we see all the drama
an instants worth of attention can attach
an insult
- that takes a thousand generations to hit
in a Bible story, an old novel, core cast
architypes pro-fess phet

bet is equal to Prophesyorsci
or greater than con-fess? Guesses are bets.

Set. In a white room,
with black curtains, as seen on tv, after
where ever is breached

and each signal passing skin is in harmony
with each interdigitating arachnoid fiber
cocooning my brain and spine,
Arachoid mater, spider mother, mo'fo, gnoso
gnoshit *** passt the final antennae array to activate

the tree of science has far deeper,
primal laughs

than any mind made up to provoke umph,
umph, umph
as a song, so some day we may sing along
an umph umph song

remembering a certain time, when certain songs
was always secret ethos exoto notta chance

they dance in hell, but in the visions,
always they be dancin'
in the dark
we don't seeum, see, the spirits, are all that
survives, soul
is locked in history whoever tells it same longest
lives, who ever forgets
is helpless. without the filter, pro-vided, and marked
mater
as a brand. the Wombed version had the mods to insulate
the lizard's gift of quick
final
once, held, no flow go no will to be
wrong,
right, we needed to add the topgraphmap thingy

polymerical mira distinct walls with nanomeros singing
or dancing
laughing, yes, yessing yes, is what that is

children laughing, on a cold and dreary day.

None but he who calls me, me,
thinks of me
as doer of

the deeds we see were done, or
must have been done,
ere I was error there of, as

beauties, if such do yet make
plans for chances I can take
as hope, sent deep to meet me,

as has been done, hoped over
plans, in me, object I point
at you. See, we are they who do

say you see the banner wave,
o'er the legendary home, aye,
of free and brave, learn-

ed and led by the learned away,
to find the me who started
thinking things we say are prayer,

this, nada mas, this we have
as we think, we have, this we,
I, me and you. Please be real. Amen.

The out of body designation,
after life, after ever once begun,
rounds the bend in time to find you.

That is mine, you said to he-
he who calls me, me, he may be
too dense to pass through, solid state.

Activated Intelligence,
see the odds, gads, scads of
notta chances remain to test,

may good enough to try, get by,
as among the best, for umph,
at the last wish in any set of three

kinds of minds full of found
ways this could occur or happen
to seem felt right, enough for now.

- the binge, a novel passtime,
- focus, intent, on hero stories fit
- slicker than snot to viral ideas…

We sneeze, sometimes in threes,
all the breathers who think in me terms,
studies show we mostly sneeze in threes;
------------------------
we get vaccines in threes, and we live on
Between April 26 and July 10, 1954,
volunteers distributed Salk's series of three polio shots….

From <https://www.google.com/search?q=first+polio+vaccine+roll+out&oq=first+polio+vaccine+roll+out&aqs=chrome..69i57j33i22i29i30.9668j1j15&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8>

Did you care for you or me when I last spoke?
Dare you dare to realize
This is notta mere Joke?
For life can be fragile
And dissipate with winds breath
Carrying Your fragile soul
Unto those highest reaches
Then sprinkle droplets of love
Essence and all
All what? Yuo should know!

Notta

I found an idgit
living my life
too comfortably
to be good
for me

I'm resisting pursuing
or pursuing resisting
so fast I got here
somehow
and it's still
now

between shoulda
and gonna
is notta
**** thing
now