"seaters" poems
im with *****
Making millys
acting silly
im playing... our pockets empty and we smoking bleezy
selling acid
minds are gold never plastic
yeah we trappin never nappin
summer 13 ******* thats old news, no clue
nbs and fitted i dont need to boost
plain white t's, no j crew
this me, i never knew, killer kush, ***** im never blue
checkin ******* out, i always disaprove
ridin ***** with our one seaters
pop a heater if ****** being nosy call em peter
5'6 ***** eater wearing beaters never beat her but i beat it, so much head i need a breather
****** is talking puppets watching budget always cautious ***** ****** and they mullets looking stupid
floosy girls loose since theyre dad left theyre missing screws
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 1:47 AM UTC
Six String Theory
tachyons protons neutrons galore
theoretical bombardment of mystical thought
jazzy country twisted rock knocking at my door
bending string blister melody sought
uptempo slowed down bugs bunny hop
octavial flated fifths and tones augmented
temperatures rising and I can't stop
missing musical chair sadly lamented
quick step spanish flamenco dancing feet
growling woofers and screaming tweeters
employing Lester's capo and magic wand
burned rubber top down blowing two seaters
it matters not how you stroke it
turn the preamp clockwise to 8 point 5 deary
power chords belly flopping your wammy bar
close your eyes and dream a six string theory
Gomer LePoet....
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
Six String Theory
tachyons protons neutrons galore
theoretical bombardment of mystical thought
jazzy country twisted rock knocking at my door
bending string blister melody sought
uptempo slowed down bugs bunny hop
octavial flated fifths and tones augmented
temperatures rising and I can't stop
missing musical chair sadly lamented
quick step spanish flamenco dancing feet
growling woofers and screaming tweeters
employing Lester's capo and magic wand
burned rubber top down blowing two seaters
it matters not how you stroke it
turn the preamp clockwise to 8 point 5 deary
power chords belly flopping your wammy bar
close your eyes and dream a six string theory
Gomer LePoet....
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
My songs can make you cry
Take you by surprise at the same time
Can make you dry your eyes with the same rhyme
Now what your seeing is a genius at work
Which to me isn't work
So its easy to misinterpret it at first
Cause when I speak its tongue and cheek
I'd yank my ******* teeth
Before I'd ever bite my tongue
I'd slice my gums!
Get struck by ******* lightning twice at once!
And die and come back as Vanilla Ice's son
And walk around the rest of my life
Spit on, and kicked and hit with ****
Every time I sung
Like R. Kelly as soon as Bump & Grind comes on
More pain inside of my brain
Than the eyes of a little girl
Inside of a plane
Aimed at the world trade
Standing on Ronnie's grave
Screaming at the sky
Till clouds gather,
It's Clyde Mathers and Bonnie Jade
And that's pretty much the jist of it
Parents are ****** but the kids love it
Nine millimetre heaters stashed with two-seaters with meat cleavers
I don't blame you I wouldn't let Hailie listen to me neither
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 11:46 PM UTC
It feels like sand on my breath
Like dunes in my chest
They are silent
But they are not still
Heaving gross quarter
Leaking for most water
The unscratchable itch
Can it be denied, of which
I am left outside, neck twitch.
Hands force paint in from closed 4 seaters
Enough
Enough
It subsides
As do my words
Am i anything without my words
Would i choose words over feeling
He said, as all the dry paint dripped from the ceiling
And there was love.
Nestled in the corner
A concave attitude begged no less of what there was to offer.
And we gave and gave.
Stretched innards in closed fists
Adorned by salesman with neat.
With neat.
Withering, neat.
Forgiven heat.
Not much to give
But we must eat.
Die and let live
For the succession of wheat.
Basket bare more than their share.
While the humans are simply denied theirs.
When.
When does this part end.
Soon i hope.
As if there were something.
Something to be had.
After.
Besides the calm. When the calm let's us notice our own distaste in it.
Not that the tree trunk needed that.
That hug.
But it helped the armless. Armless.
Or was it a kiss.
The mouthless.
Something dark.
Force them to spit.
Ask them to sit.
Did that have to rhyme. Did any of this have to. Did it take away. From
Take away from.
Cultured eyed breast sore
Vultures hide crest something
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 8:53 PM UTC
To all interested parties:
Be aware
My guilt button is out of order
Due to mismanagement
And over usage
It was burned up.
Please do not attempt
To resuscitate
Recalibrate
or commiserate
The loss
Empathy, compassion and gentle humor have agreed together to compensate.
For an unspecified time period
Joy and peace are their
Sunrise greeters and
Moonrise seaters
In this theatre of daily grace.
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
we get ice cream and fries
we don't actually eat we go outside
the retro music blares over the speakers
we splash in puddles with our beat up sneakers
wow you have my heart beating
even if it is only our second time meeting
it's dark but the neon sign lights up a spot
of the empty dance floor parking lot
the restaurant window seaters give us a glance
we dance
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 10:15 AM UTC
Six String Theory
tachyons protons neutrons galore
theoretical bombardment of mystical thought
jazzy country twisted rock knocking at my door
bending string blister melody sought
uptempo slowed down bugs bunny hop
octavial flated fifths and tones augmented
temperatures rising and I can't stop
missing musical chair sadly lamented
quick step spanish flamenco dancing feet
growling woofers and screaming tweeters
employing Lester's capo and magic wand
burned rubber top down blowing two seaters
it matters not how you stroke it
turn the preamp clockwise to 8 point 5 deary
power chords belly flopping your wammy bar
close your eyes and dream a six string theory
Gomer LePoet....
Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 2:01 PM UTC