"posers" poems
Now, I'm here to tell a story
Bout some lessons learned shawty
I got me a tough crew, know what um sayin
We played da diss game, slaydum
Not one a da crew, brought da game shame
First, I dubbed myself Kang
I'm good, true! But didn't mean a thang
Then coughed ma gural Sumpim
She got da club thumpin
Put her own style in da game, bra
We still thuggin? Na!
She first coughed a little gural princess
Kicked in the castle, copped the Queen's dress
Took the crown, made her own success
Her rhymes get the heart pumpim
Much respect to me gural Somthin
Next, little siss picked up the mike
Jumped on the tandem, started peddlin the bike
Shawty's rhymes hit dem in da face
She rhymed like a **** dresses in satin an lace
Mad props out to my siss, Madison grace
I was alone, like a stand a timber
**** Forest on fire with Diein Ember
Laid down rhymes so tight
He'd have my back in any fight
I gotta thank ma boyyy
Gangstan whichu was a flippin joy
Otta nowhere swaggs a tru Gansta chick
Bustin rhymes en droppin dimes like she was Slick Rick
Wedyan be da real trick! Thanks gural slick
Finally, swooped the dark Raven
Rollin on 22's gatz a blazzin
Loyall to da shawtys
Flyin like a bomber on sorties
Droppin posers to der knees
Makin succaass beg, brotha please
To all ya all I got ta tell ya
Would I do it again, hell ya
Um movin on to a new gig
Pull off my crown, plop on a wig
To ya readers out dare got some advice
Giv it a spit, it's Gangsta's Paradise!!!
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 10:44 PM UTC
To be a poser , to me means
you can't really think for yourself.
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
Poetic.....Poetic.....Poetic
Is what everybody is now
Poetic justice is what everybody brings now
Burn the city down
Poetic
Maybe then the government will listen
Everyone a revolutionary
Poetic
Posers standing on podiums
They march for peace but plant the seed
to send you to war
Posers never on the front line
Cowards afraid to die first
Poetic
Selling dreams that don't exist like those of Mr. King
Posers afraid of death
Homosexuals of war
But far from an Alexander
Far from a Ceacer but those are who they chosen to follow since they don't lead none
Poetic
We poets don't speak up
I was going to recite with my stage name
Anonymous my alter ego
My Duo persona
Poetic
But for this everyone should see the face and now the name
Of the man who pointed out the cowards
I'm not afraid of death,
Poetic
I'm not afraid of arrest
Poetic
But the bloods the crips
The nation of islam
Should had burned down
Sallie Mae
Not mom and pop shops
Poetic
Restore the damage
Restore the damage
pay your dues
Go get your 40 acres and your mule
I dream the dream but not American
Since I live my life as if I was to die
Before being immortalize
Poetic
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 9:34 AM UTC
FLC , if you don't know what that means
let me take some time to explain who I be
I'm the fun loving criminal, spitting rhymes and lyrics that are subliminal, touching your conscious as I raise above the nonsense,
that surrounds me and the hip hop industry.
Gun, knives and bling bling is the image and lifestyle,
that will get you locked up in sing sing.
Too many rappers out there are just posers.
When will they wake up and see that trying to act gangsta,
will not help them to be,
better...lyricists
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
I like people who don't
trust people
Like a locked bathroom door
Protected from their own
Self exposure
But I just want to develop them
in black & white
Sell their silhouettes on the black market
Seeing what they're really worth
These are the people
with lures hanging from their teeth
like wind chimes or dreamcatchers
Bodies of abandoned carnivals
And people become like trespassers
On their unholy grounds
Here to document
the decay
Caress the chipping paint
Hoping for tetanus
They wonder when they became
Archeology
Like the lost part of found
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC
There is a certain devil in my eyes
a twinkling trickster who despises
all pomp and proper posers who lie
to gain the affection of the less informed.
There is a puckish knave who raves
to undue the chains of those enslaved
by creative play and poetry
by active explorations of prose and nobility.
I know such endeavors are things of futility
for if they knew my form of Anansi
silk spinning spider
or my formidable four legged figure of coyote
who runs under the Nordic name of Loki,
I am certain they would try to lightning fry me.
Instead, I buy some time masking my mind
tapping out binary bridges of ones and zeroes
with mythic folk and fairytales to educate
my elves who have lost
their pointed ears and no longer hear
the sound of nature’s truth
concealed in their very flesh.
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 9:58 AM UTC
there’s a madness to the method
just like madness to the **** head
just like sadness when a pets dead
So shaman practice to ***** death
dream up palace for the friends beds
give up hours made to break bread
we’ve a table so we share meds
******* tired, mai oui bed spread
going line by line
with a fine tooth comb
this my time to shine
that’s a spine made moan
ecstatic just like ﻮ๏๔ up on the phone
syncretized to science
split the spine to find it
sip divine in silence
܁܁܁પﻭɦ܁܁܁
sift my mind is chalice
peep my mental palace
be love be never callous
self poison only malice
who’s next up ?
Phil my boy defining finding
fluid flows that’s kinda violent
quiet convos
with sigma shamans
hidden wicked prevented
predicted problems
consciously coming
to all three of the shy
๓ﻉ & ฝﻉ & ฝɦﻉก; ๓ค & ๓ﻉ & Շɦﻉ๓ร
I might get off my ult
while I sip off my colt
best slip off that coat
when you roll with me
Where were going...
its too hot for that ****
Sometimes we the hero
Sometimes we the zero
Sometimes we the feeder
Sometimes we the carry
Sometimes we don carry
way too much up on our shoulders
heavy stacking rolling over boulders
etch away the borders
swaying over voters
reeving up the rotors
drinking with the smokers
hugging all the soldiers
all the loners
better freeze time
so we can compose
the pose for all the posers
oppose the poachers
humans are people
Not supposed to be vultures
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 1:06 PM UTC
7 am.
For once I'm early.
For once I woke up, happy.
For once I woke up remember that it does get better.
For once my fathers text aren't true.
For once, I can easily wake up
For once, I can start my day off right.
For once, I'm actually happy.
Not that cheap liquor induced happiness.
But,
A small warm hug of happiness.
Maybe they won't leave, I haven't.
Maybe I won't shun them, they seem to like me.
Maybe mom was right,
I just had to get through high school.
Art school was the best decision of my life.
Wanna know why?
I'm doing what I love.
I'm surrounded by people who are like me.
Sure.
There will be the posers and phonies.
The ones with all the mask caked on and truly don't know who they are.
But,
Then there is us.
The wallflowers.
Take us however you wish.
Yes.
I'm broken.
Hurt.
Needy.
Afraid.
Helpless at times too...
But,
I'm happy.
Excited.
Rejoiced.
Refreshed.
Because I have this life,
I have this family,
And now...
I have these friends.
So today,
At 7 am,
I write to all you that I love to say,
Today I'm not just fine or okay,
I'm great.
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 8:45 AM UTC
I wake up and feel something is askew.
Then I remember what I heard last night on the news.
Then I push it aside and turn on the TV.
I’m sure someone can deal with it better than me!
Our politics are failing. Society’s flailing.
Getting’ crushed under the weight of our own pompous detailing.
But I don’t mind, there’s nothing I can do.
I’ll just grab a bite, get another tattoo.
Maybe by the time I’m done, it’ll have worked itself out.
If it hasn’t I’ll just shut my eyes and think of something else!
I guess I could try to make a difference,
But I’ve got more important things I have to deal with.
Like the season finale of my favorite show,
A bottle of Jack to finish and a party to throw!
I guess I can try to help out, if I’ve got the time. We’ll see.
Hey, look! Beer over there is buy-one-get-one-free!
I gotta stock up for the big game tonight.
Gotta go. I’m sure you got the problem covered, right?
Drunks and liars and posers, you’re fired.
Idiots, ********* worldwide mob masses.
Outcasts that walk alone, self-loathers, homophobes.
Jesus freaks. One more drink. Intelligence levels sink.
Dumb jocks and ****** Gangbangers. Guerilla wars.
Drop the dime, save the time. Pretend you’ve lost your mind.
Uppers and downers. Immigrants, minors.
Emos and cheaters, and ******* wife-beaters.
****** ex-girlfriends, freaks, frauds, text message sends.
Alcoholics relapsing. Governments collapsing.
Oil spills, anything for thrills. Hold on, just one more ****
Suicide bombers, no mothers, no fathers.
This world’s so ****** up, how will it end up?
I don’t wanna know, don’t wanna see.
Don’t make me face reality!
Jan 31, 2012
Jan 31, 2012 at 12:22 AM UTC
In theory, we're demoralized,
In practice, neutralized,
But with force we analyze
What happens around us.
Sanctimonious ********
Pulling our plastered limbs
To an ever lasting fight,
Against forces of evil? Where are we?!
Black veils on their faces
Dark tears in the traces
Marked by the graves that are left behind.
Apathetic pathetic pythons biting the bits and piecing the peace that pits you against your brother.
Pompous posers pushing pampered ideas into our polluted brains.
Anti-idealistic contenders competing for riches and a nice comfy throne.
Plausible pseudo-righteous imposers asking for an applause for all the ill-witted words they shed.
Rectify the wrong wriggled reason riddling wibble fed to feeble citizens.
We sit here waiting for divine intervention,
Well divinity's gone! Not to mention the tension,
All these factors and factions, the fact is we're dying, and they're not helping.
Something drives them, something we don't understand, but who has the guts to ask them what it is?
Our blood has become the dividend divided among the not-so-united lands that fall under a geographical, categorized country of hell.
In this hell we live in, we've become minions of liberal less-than-mediocre minds ironically not minding their own business, feeding off of ours.
Intertwined, undermined, understand the outer line, see the truth, feel the crime, freedom's yours. Freedom's mine.
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 7:08 AM UTC
One does not question the holy
This sick sacrament of self-sacrifice is not holy
Dark filthy ****** mess of holy man
Thorny fool
This is not holy
*** and sweat
Dripping wet
With physical pleasure
Understanding
Educational leisure
That is better than holy
Compassion and wisdom
Built from shared experience
Creating empathy
Like blood pumping vessels
This is better than holy
Patience for others
And a little for myself
Intolerance for the arrogance of war
This is better than holy
Robed men and camouflaged faked heroes
Petulant posers and wealthy heirs
Are not the high end holy **** that we should smoke
Scholars and philosophers
Scientists and healers
Teachers and firemen
They are heroes
In reality the holy
Is just some mystic ********
Fake flesh and blood
Ritz crackers and grape juice
Some cryptic fascist leftover symbolism
To cow the masses in uneducated awe
**** that holy ****
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 11:23 AM UTC
Pumps. pearls. punks. posers.
how can you run around town stealing from self-righteous loners.
The last to get chosen in a neighborhood game of ball.
Why continue to fool yourself, when all along you knew you were destined to fall.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
I'm surrounded by a world of pretentious posers.
They hide behind the title 'hipster'
They don't hide behind brand names,
they hind behind thrift store clothing,
they call themselves authentic.
How can you be authentic when you take the ideas of others,
change a few words,
and call it your own?
I am surrounded by a world of posers,
wondering if I should submit and head to the nearest thrift store.
I am trying to figure out who I am,
find myself in everything I see,
figuring out what I like and what I don't.
I don't know where I am.
I read the poetry of Plath and feel like we share similar thoughts.
I am not Plath, I cannot be Sylvia,
I won't end my life with my head in an oven.
I am not depressed,
at least I don't think I'd call it depressed.
I don't know what I am,
I can't label it.
When I try I am afraid to,
I dont want fall under the category of pretentious poser,
but I am afraid that's where I am headed.
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 11:00 PM UTC
Limp ***** deep writers . . .
Hang themselves raw playing,
. . . Snooker with a rope.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 4:01 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Original Lyrics By Fleetwood Mac
Situational views with over determination ,
I don't need a judge or a saint , thanks for consideration,
Poked eyes don't see the evils that go on in this country,
Some people could hear them calling from hell , it must be comfy,
Plant life can't even really get a stance without people building buildings
Over them , there ain't a chance,
But nothing to a country boy that just works with his hands,
But not in a country so doped by wickedness , do you understand?
Listen As My Heart Grows,
Watch us all rise.
Running towards the Meadows,damn deciet,
**** your lies*
And if you don't love me now,
While your heart is dipped in sin,
*I can still hear you saying you would never break the chain",
(Never break the chain)
You've broke my soul somehow,
We can't just sit here and pretend,
*I can still hear you saying you would never break the chain",
(Never break the chain)
Listen As My Heart Grows,
Flowers all in sight.
Running In The Meadows,hide the dark,
Embrace the light,
Your Love is stricken,damn deciet,
**** your lies*,
And if you don't love me now,
While your heart is dipped in sin,
*I can still hear you saying you would never break the chain",
(Never break the chain)
You've broke my soul somehow,
We can't just sit here and pretend,
*I can still hear you saying you would never break the chain",
(Never break the chain)
And if you don't love me now,
While your heart is dipped in sin,
*I can still hear you saying you would never break the chain",
(Never break the chain)
Never break the chain,
Never break it with your family,
Never break the chain,
Never break it with your friends to be,
Let the link be stronger like protecters,
Keep your enemies,
Closer, in world full of broken hearts and a lot disclosure,
Is a lot to be saying for a kid that lives Florida,
We need closure for these posers that make greed a rare exposure,
Ain't no,
Signed sealed deliver **** when it hits the fan,
And nowadays being a man that dies is mostly a black man,
My opinions just stirs up so much conflict in comforting someone about the
Truth and it's allegiance,
Killings happen , it repeats and,
Don't let them open up the season.
Chains keep us together,
(Run into the shadows)
Chains keep us together,
(Run into the shadows)
Chains keep us together,
(Run into the shadows)
Chains keep us together,
(Run into the shadows)
Chains keep us together,
(Run into the shadows).
Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 11:25 AM UTC
Watch who you alloy WITH/
tools you employ WITH/I emphasize
WITH/
no exaggeration/
emphatic to their exasperation/
no caption no captain all to captivating
verbose elocution what? verbose?
what ever
You write doesn't become rote/
the execution of the elocution of the words that Were spoke/
problems arose oppose deal with them aplomb/
synchronizing with flows currency is then what becomes/
electrifying with these verbs action astound/
pound for pound every now and then do a thing with a noun/
pronounced or
yet possibly you haven't notice/
surmount the insurmountable couldn't count the posers/
when most fake it you get most focus/
internalize their emotion fuel the fire ferocious/
fandom analogous?
non comparative/
A new style I guess/
tandem me and 26 The Narrative/
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 11:51 AM UTC
I realize that poets are just posers who imitate other poets, in a lackadaisical attempt to be someone that we are not. It is the laziest of arts. I impose my new art, on a floundering mass of dying humans. It is visual, and sound art, in custom made video clips that are impossible to imitate. The tones of color and sound are of my very own. Using sounds of everyday life(at least everyday life of a lunatic) and videos I make on the spot of those sounds. I realized that the Mona Lisa ***** and with kids believing that they can turn into a character from Fortnite, I am hitting at the exact right time. My art is living, in a world that is dying(hopefully)
Mar 27, 2022
Mar 27, 2022 at 12:07 PM UTC
I am from soap bars unnoticed in supermarket aisles, from Lux and artificial jasmine fragrances.
I am from ****** motels, suspicion strong in the air; far from the warmth of toasty family cottages.
I am from the bouquet of extravagant roses, the dead white one within the reds.
I am from the cholesterol-inducing pizza nights and sharp senses for both the culinary and your lies, from a sinner and an angel and the brave and just the plain stupid.
I am from the self-deprecating and the highly-sensitive.
From you’ll never be able to climb a tree and you’ll never be able to find another me.
I am from the inverted views of the crescent and the star, on my knees waiting to turn back.
I am from the city of the creatively uncreative and its posers and poseurs, plain bread and steamed rice served on China plates painstakingly crafted.
From the not-so-happy ending of mom and dad’s love story, the blood boiling and the tears rolling.
I am from the well-kept, well-preserved antique shelves hidden under our everyday closets; a ***** little secret, secretly waiting to be saved.
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC
Sometimes the best
Things in life hurt the most
That breakup the one
That made you torn up inside
It was for the best
They didn't deserve you
Be free stay beautiful
I still love you
All the cheaters and beaters
Preps and posers
It’s not worth it
Live you life
Love don't die
Speak the truth
Its all for you
Night and day
Spent trying not
To throw it all away
You're my light from a
Light bulb breaks sometimes
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 8:55 AM UTC
I would like to say, I have let my hate control me.
No, I don't dislike it. Honestly if I may say, I enjoy it very much.
But I feel bad for being a complete and utter ***** to this girl.
It started with her dating my bestfriend, and then cheating on him.
Everyone thinks she is a poser, but at the same time they act like they are her friends so they can use her. There is no way around it. At all.
But maybe she isn't a poser. Maybe we think this because she is just now going through what we all (my friends and I) went through many years ago. But the way she did it makes her look like an utter poser. And two things I hate with a passion: posers and hicks.
But before all of this her dating my bestfriend, and being a poser thing happened,
I was almost starting to be friends with her. Had NOTHING in common with her, and I liked it.
The only time we actually hung out we went to some guys house, and there were a few people, and every one was talking and laughing, and being loud.
Her and I sat on the floor away from everyone. I liked that.
I think she is a pretty cool girl, and is fun, and pretty out of all of this.
So, in a way, but not entirely I'm saying sorry
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
Hey whats up everyone?
So I'd like to start the new year off with some news that I'm sure will make a lot of you happy (and hopefully some of you sad. But not the fakers or the posers)
I'm giving up on hellopoetry, in the few years of having an account I have gained nothing from this site but a legion of undead fangirls and lifelong friends who live too far away. I joined this site because I wanted to get honest feedback on my work, and in fact I often ask for feedback, but i never get it. And that upsets me.
No one reads my work anymore anyways (except those friends that i mentioned before, and I can just send them my work in private anyways), so whats the point in posting?
Exactly there isn't a point.
Which is why as I said I'm giving up on this site.
I'll still keep my account, but I will no longer be posting anything.
Feel free to message me whenever, in fact who knows maybe I'll message you. (probably not though)
And with that I say Goodbye
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 5:28 AM UTC
humans are natural posers.
we're all those sheep.
trying to be like the next.
watching & following.
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 10:58 PM UTC
The dishes smash against
The wall
The neighbors peek through
the blinds
to try and witness the
un-normalcy
of
shouting and fighting
in a well-respected
upper-class
community.
Those neighbors are posers though
They fight too
Just silently
And over the span of
a few decades
Either way the cops show up to
better the situation.
Her hands pack her bags
As her eyes unpack their tears
I won't need a grinch this year
I've killed my own Christmas.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 10:46 PM UTC