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I da Pimpled Goose ****,
seedybeat Fugazi cane.
Ain't no ganda down da farm
who got mo' game!

I da foie gras solja,
scarecrow shades on da bridge
o' ma bill dat's orange
like doin' Dixie porridge.

I da ***** Flocka,
mi gold chain read 'CAP'
- big shoutout ta da Common
Agricultural Policy!

O dat Monty Don
**** around like Donkey Kong,
when 'e shud be mi main man
down da plantation!

I da Thugly Swan
wit' da young G's zits.
Ma hooty beeyatch got
Wotsit flipperlips!

Wot good fo' da goose
is good fo' da gangsta.
She lay da golden egg,
turnin' tricks in de tracta.

Funkyard fleshialist
yo' honkin' ** needs:
bird sheet, wigga duck,
Chicken Town OG.

But when I's in da hoosegow,
who's in ma goose hoes?
It's dem alfalfa
desperadoes.

Farmer **** MacMuck,
Farmer Pygmalion,
Farmer Fab 5 Freddy
- ta me, dey all Farmer John!

Da's cookin' in da barn,
da's cathouse in da coop.
'Ged out!' I told da Ghettoad
O ' Toad Hood!

& all dem oinky donkies,
dem Snoop Hoggy Hoggs
know dat' if dem' diss me,
it be rainin' caps & doggs!

Buy da farm if ya cluck
amok wit' ya beeyatch talk.
Money Monty Don
chuck da muck wit'  da peeyatch fork!

Now mi feather up da heifer
& get mi beak freak on.
& when me pluck mi pustules,
dey iz pumpaction!

Now Monty Don freestyle,
'Sheer deep 'appyness
ya no spit 'less ya spittin'
sheepdip ya p-e-nis!'

Now MC Duckwhistle
wit'  da cornrow neckdo,
gonna get da gaggle waggle
ta 'is raspy kazoo:

'I not da Pimpled Goose ****,
I da Pimpled Goose **** Son,
& I's only pimpin' geese
till da Pimpled Goose **** come!  

I not da Pimpled Goose ****,
I da Pimpled Goose **** Son,
& I's only pimpin' geese
till da Pimpled Goose **** come!'
P E Kaplan Apr 2014
First I spied the neck, sagging innocently enough,
one might even say blissfully, reflected in the glass laptop.
The phrase "whodunit" came out of nowhere,
and a low, silky, voice whispered,
"Aw, don't stop before the good part."

The villain left a few clues; the wispy hair strands;
some scattered age spots, skin tags, a few moles,
listless, crinkly, skin pale, lightly pimpled,
and a weird, wrinkly crevasse teased,
"Aw, don't stop before the good part."

Totally hooked, curiosity piqued; southward I spotted
where a once perky treasure "chest" was hidden,
two solemn, half-empty grain sacks, laying sideways,
basically lifeless they lazily muttered,
"Aw, don't stop before the good part."

The final chapter, the mystery solved,
no crime, no villain, nothing stolen, just flesh alchemy.
Where once a taut, flat, plateau of supple skin, resided
now a lumpy, bumpy, flabby belly, murmured sweetly,
"Boston Creme Pie and a cup of tea would hit the spot."
Peter J Jul 12
The swimming island.
After everyone had left
She swam out to the island,
and sat there with her
feet freely submerged.
Hands gripping the sides.
Hair wet that tumbled
down her back,
beads of fresh water
ran upon her young thin
goose pimpled skin.
Blood pressure
low to fainting
She rubbed her arms and felt
the warmth of a full sun set.
She waited until the sun disappeared
Then eased back into the lake
And swam back.
#Lakeside stories
Yenson May 17
They call it a 'Class War"
They call it a "War of Liberation"
whilst its just another instance of white oppression

Childish, immature, mean and nasty underachievers
like the kid on the beach who kicks over others sandcastle
because they are better than the ******* castle he made

Like that that uncool dumb teen who scatters the board game
because he's now seen that he is losing and cannot win at all

like those **** pimpled friends who would play gooseberry
and ****-blockers because  they can't get nice dates of their own

like that bitter mad one who will spill ink over your white top
or new Trainers because he or she has old and ***** ones

They are all from the world of the sicko psychos and damaged
talent-less mean, envious, sad pathetic people going nowhere
If I can't make it, why should others do and be winners

They all graduate to the divisive politics of the ****** losers
Power is stopping progress and advancement because they are down
Power is bringing achievers and enterprise down they can's gain
Power is sabotaging all that is good because they are bad in all

Measly fetid minds they plot and conspire in gangrenous network
dolts, scums, unwashed losers and rejects of society, bottom feeders
Come join the Party, our specialty is chaos and disruption of winners

The pathetic jokes of the white West, losers in their own backyards
picks on an African who came from disadvantages to better them
better educated, more intelligent, cool and stylish in every way
pack full of potential, going places they can never go or reach

Our sick, mean spirited under-achievers, expert losers and scums
crawled on the war-path, riddled with envy, sick with jealousy
ruin his progress, oppose and disrupt a black man who doubles
efforts to achieve, what if losers try is given to them on a plate

What here is done for the greater good, what here is honorable
celebrated victories for psychos, racist underachievers I think not
peoples power? more sick, tormented, jealous n envious chicanery
anarchy jealousy, anarchy shame, anarchy racists, anarchy liars

One Single Black achiever demonstrates the inherent strength
and grace of our all our Ancestors against sick, persistent white oppression. That's the story here.
If its a fair war, why hide and go underground, why fight *****!
Sofia Von Dec 2018
I’m sick of the lies
I’m sick of the guise
Be an ******* to my face you *******
Cut me out like a man
Don’t ****** walk away like I did you wrong
I’ve given you nothing but love from the beginning
and you snap it back in my face
*****, I can your disgrace
and this race of ungrateful haste should rethink their approach in the presence of a kind heart and unwavering loyalty
boy,
you pushed me to the edge
and so I pledge
to never trust a soul
cuz this tossing and turning in yearning cuts deep
and I don’t get enough sleep
so count your sheep and be gone without a peep you ******* creep
I’m too real to pretend
In a world of fake embellishments to conceal god’s embroidery
I really thought you’d mean more to me
but you blend n bend just like the rest and to me
you’re just a guest so save me
the best
As I attest to never rest my pen for a pimpled partridge laced to dance to the tune we all know is rehearsed
I’m different
I see your past
I see your essence
I know your actions before you make them and lemme tell you
I could sell you here and now but you wouldn’t be worth it.
Don’t name me n game me like your dame to-be cuz I hear your hesitation and bruises
look like ******* on wanna be bad boys
**** all that noise
I’ve done that ****
I’ve lived that life
And I can play ***** less flirty and more wordy than a whole gurney of **** with no praise for your plug’s percocet purse you’re tryna nurse cuz no curse will salvage a sick man’s mind
Next time, don’t even bother
hittin me up for a quick ****
cuz you blew that chance a long time ago and I’d have to be on twice the amount of **** I was on then to ******* now
Ha! Like you’d even know how!
I’ve seen your hickeys of conquests Do you think I’m blind?
And that shows you’ve still gotta brag
boy, I’ve ****** your whole family with out a scratch so catch a disease cuz you’ll never please between my knees
You were beneath me from the beginning
But I gave you the doubt
And still
you’d rather smash for the clout cuz your way out of this drought are delusions of grandeur
not credible candor
On a firey rant. written a few months ago.

— The End —