"sellouts" poems
I say **** kanye **** kanye **** kanye yea yea eeeee
I say **** kanye **** kanye **** kanye yea yea eeeee
I say **** kanye **** kanye **** kanye yea yea eeeee
I say **** kanye **** kanye **** kanye yea yea eeeee
So many sellouts claimin' they real when they only want a mass stage appeal
****** swear they be down for the hood? but how while living lavish in the white neighborhoods?
This ***** turned scooby doo ****** where the **** are you? You loosin' ya black views
How the **** you gone say slavery was a choice I remember when you had a voice
Ever since you called Bush out it seems like got drained out
Gallons of blood a spiritual transfusion ***** ya loosin'
Ever since your lips ****** on that white ******* **** **** them Kkkhardashians say it louder once the mic enter my hands enemies get the sweatin' cuz of my verbal weapon
yeah ya been coming out makes me doubt
No wonder why they call you gay fish half of them ******* is really *******
In the celebrity world where boys is girls and girls is boys seduced by the evilness that swirls life ain't about diamonds and pearls
Pandoras box dusty as **** so no need to throw a fit Kanye I got a black polished AK' forty seven ready to send you to heaven
No ladder leaning on a stagger soon to end up a plastic bagger
Coroner's dinner deaths the winner while ya visions growing thinner
**** what ya stand for I take you back through the "wire" throw gasoline all over you then light a fire burning your empire
**** your kids and ya legacy none of us admire
Your coonery I'll crown you with thorns full of barbed wire til your soul transpires
Yeah punk ***** so
I say **** kanye **** kanye **** kanye yea yea eeeee
I say **** kanye **** kanye **** kanye yea yea eeeee
I say **** kanye **** kanye **** kanye yea yea eeeee
I say **** kanye **** kanye **** kanye yea yea eeeee
Also **** them white ***** kkkhardashian once again letting you know how they do brothers in
****** go crazy or end up in the pen or another gender trend
**** making friends **** chasin' ends
And if you wanna join kanye ya casket ready soon to be tucked in ....
Night night you ***** ******* die slow
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 10:31 AM UTC
Revival of a revolutionary spirit
What I represent?
Dem single mother ******* children
Uneducated, unmotivated, and poverty stricken
Moma pay da rent, da car note, den broke, da game sumtm' slick
So I'm young BLACK and angry, real thug-life *****
Infested communities of drugs and guns thats brought in by the government
So before I move a pack o pull a trigga just tryna win
I'm already guilty, 'until proven innocent'
Ain't dat a *****
The days as slaves and Jim Crow's segregated ways have passed,
Dey sayin'
But I only see it disguised now as a 'color blind' racial caste system
Crooked politicians and sellouts oppressing dey own kin
In the 'pursuit of happiness'
They're privatising prisons for capital
Mass incarceration
How could another life be property?
With a loss of civil rights, even after release
Take it ha you wona
I'm anti-colonialism
Everywhere the 'Albino' go he **** the land and oppress the people
Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 4:58 PM UTC
A POLICE MAN CAN DO ANYTHING
Why compromised are the police men?
From all over the world, policemen are sellouts,
Policemen arrested Jesus Christ and flogged him,
Others tortured Galileo Galilai for intellectual cross purpose,
Some of them vandalized Martin Luther King, and his wife,
As they also put Fidel Castro on the tilted trial,
The same are the ones that arrested Mahatma Gandhi
In the same tandem of Colonel Afrifa organizing a coup
To effect putsch against Kwameh Nkrumah, or Mandela to Robben gulag,
They tortured Rubia and Matiba in Kenya down the abyss of mental breakdown,
They kicked in the teeth Abdulla Abdalladiff at Kamiti prison
Then they ran off for a decade to effect the ****** of Robert Ouko,
Their evil tendency was never quenched until
They abducted the County parliament speaker
Of Maembe hamlet in the Nyake Kingdom of potato eaters
And held him in the spine chilling captivity for days and days
Only to release him when he sufficed to stay in dumb freedom.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 4:11 AM UTC
the millennial feminists
are being nurtured
by a generation of
bourgeois sellouts in
non-profit social media
corporate protests by
happy consumers [- - - -]
a new generation
of housewives w/out
husbands; & men w/ guns
& their ***** in their hands;
a feminist is not a Feminista
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 4:44 PM UTC
Everything was dreary
...And bleak.
And my skin happened to look red and splotchy.
All I had wanted
Was to binge on coco flavanols and overdose on caffeine.
I hadn't moisturized my skin after my shower, or put cover up on while it was still moist and warm. My veneer had not been established.
I told myself it didn't matter..
But really this issue was the cultivation
The turning point of my day.
Then I put my face on.
The grey, somber mask turned to Lovely, Feminine Pink.
As I spread the beige cream across my complexion, I felt something shift; insidious.
I felt the ******* I had been enslaved to.
I had been the one
With no friends and no sellouts to lug around with the rest of her baggage.
I had been the one
Who gawked and sneered
At the self-medication of the lonely girls who looked oh-so attractive
With their gleaming, hair~framed faces
And popping eyes.
What have I become?
I now claim this self selling drug
As my own.
What does it mean? What does it say about me?
Even more importantly, what does it say about you, and your stand point?
Do you put your face on, or do you let your soul bubble out of the surface of your complection?
FACE
A FACE
A million faces, pretty ones.
It's time to face the place of natural grace and replace the superficial first impression we chase.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 3:39 AM UTC
Inside their tombs, our martyrs are whispering,
Oh God, we are coming back.
On land they are lifting their hands,
and their voices grow in the silence of the grave:
Oh God, we are coming back.
Stones fall, ashes rise, and their eyes beam,
Oh God, we are coming back.
Our martyrs stepped out of their coffins,
lined up and raised the shout:
Shame on you cowards.
Our home is sold, our nation
a herd of sheep, and you sleep.
Our martyrs travel to Al Aqsa Mosque,
they pray in the churches of Lebanon,
they wander the streets of Jerusalem,
they break into prisons in every land.
They rise from the ashes of the captive home
and preach on every corner of a beaten nation.
They call in the midst of massacres,
God is greater than this man-made world,
God is greater than this man-made world,
God is greater than this man-made world.
Our martyrs are approaching, their shouts echoing
on the walls of Beirut. They gather in the streets
to fight in darkness despite the pale light.
In homes bound by humiliation and madness, they call,
Oh God we are coming back.
One day our coffins will light all of Jerusalem.
They are coming back to break into the castle.
***
On every corner, they ask the cowards,
Why did you tolerate the wolf, sleeping
amidst sheep, a home as whole as the universe
auctioned off, overrun with rats?
Cowards who sold out our broken home,
our living ancestors, there you are
on the screen, drunk in the fuss,
walking Death, hypocrisy, and control,
we will rid our holy dead of you,
and of the irony of the age.
Oh God we are coming back.
Don’t believe that people killed
in a battle for God are dead,
they are still alive in God.
***
Our martyrs, roaring on every corner of the land,
streams of them asking,
Oh living, what are you doing?
Every day you’re double-crossed and slain
like sheep, surrendering your rights,
running like rats to the wolves,
leaving your people weeping
while you are prostrate before America’s
dollars and the images on screen.
Rats in all sorts of compromising ways.
And in the mad laughter of calamity,
a nation is sold into collapse.
Two images collapse into one:
while kneeling,
your heads under their shoes,
and our Arab Jerusalem,
given to wolves by the drunken.
***
With Lebanon adrift in blood, and tyranny
on the prowl, our martyrs shout
from every corner, Does honor
have a place? Where have the rebels
disappeared? Why have the sellouts fled?
The silent, the forgetful, and the two-tongued
all keep their mouths shut.
If you ask, they give you official nonsense.
If you ask, you get a bullet in the eye.
***
When you march in the parade of commerce
you wind up sold. History shows traitors
no mercy. The flood washes
over all of you chasing death
with the ad-man chasing you
to sell you tomorrow in the slave market.
Our priests are oblivious in their seats,
drunk on the power of reign and rule.
Our people in prison-darkness. All of them asleep.
When do the sleeping awaken?
When the sleeping wake.
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 10:48 AM UTC
Lie cheat and steal
Fascism is totally real
What deals are they cooking
When none of us is looking?
**** **** and destroy
The fascist version of joy.
Buy a few ****** congressmen
Start the whole thing over again.
Washington DC is always run
By sellouts and crooks, every one.
It you want things to not be the same
Do something about changing the game.
Find out where your representatives
Go to play, to bank and live,
If they seem to be able to walk
Totally different than they talk.
Keep the waters murky and hazy
Because the voters are so lazy.
Tell a bunch of lies on TV
Nobody cares about reality.
They think celebrity shows
Are the way life really goes.
That is, of course, because
Nobody notices the cameras.
Washington DC is always run
By sellouts and crooks, every one.
It you want things to not be the same
Do something about changing the game.
Find out where your representatives
Go to play, to bank and live,
If they seem to be able to walk
Totally different than they talk.
Washington DC is always run
By sellouts and crooks, every one.
It you want things to not be the same
Do something about changing the game.
Find out where your representatives
Go to play, to bank and live,
If they seem to be able to walk
Totally different than they talk.
An important thing for us to remember
Is to act like Christmas beyond December.
Peace on earth, and good will to men
Should need a certain date to begin.
It should be going on all the time.
The same with theft and other crime.
Our virtue as a nation will come up short
If all we care about is our favorite sport.
Nov 8, 2016
Nov 8, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC
Stoners go hippie with the sticky sweet smoke
Dope-wicked hope stricken trippin' sinners don't choke
Sellouts sell jail cells in the cellar downstairs
Hairs-frayed-from-hairspray stricken sisters don't care
Tell me where are the werewolves wearing skin overcoats?
Not a body dare boast that their coast is a host
For a problem don't got one when the team boat won't row
Don't tell me you got hope when the dough runs the show
Don't tell me that you care when to sin is to share
Don't ever tell me that you know when your love never show
You're fuckin' bloody-gut, up-chucking sick
Don't ya know?
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 7:02 PM UTC
Come,let's pack our bags
Hunting hats and all
Perhaps Stradtler is straddling
some ****** *****
Right now, pun intended
Ackley's snoring close to you
Ignore the idiot
Now listen to me
You and I
Let's forget Pencey and leave
the **** phonies who run it
We'll walk the streets together
With no dead ends our way
Your fears scare me too, you hear me?
The world is just too phony
For people like us who escape to live
Everyone tells you to grow up
And forget yourself
Just to kiss and dance with their **** grown up ideas
We are both at a losing end
Finding a close to a story that never really began
Let's just bottle up these ********
Holden, nobody really gives a ****
except the cheap, wretched bars downtown
where old jokes like ourselves
set fire to the downpour
in our heads with more pain and
then some cheap painkillers
***** a little snooze a little
Some you gain, some you lose
Nobody really takes a look
For a **** second, see?
Except the smelly, narrow hotel rooms
Where we can rest our broken shoulders
And become a child once again
Once again, dear Holden
Non sellouts unlike your brother D.B
The door is to remain close
Some phony might take it against us
Take us to Hollywood
The hell filled with phonies
Nobody, Holden, nobody
We are alone
You and me
And the whole phony world killing themselves
While laughing at our struggles
To live our lives a little honestly
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 5:40 AM UTC
something's wrong when kids are running away from homes
and taking comfort in alleyways
it's "one of those nights" every night
where the moon mocks your very existence
laughing at how minuscule you are
because you are just a strand of dust
floating in this vast universe
maybe it's that very thought that drives kids to runaway
in search for something more than what a home can offer
how can anyone feel at home when the stars you see are dead
and you don't know which god created this thing called life and why
how can anyone blame the kid for taking comfort in alleyways
at least the darkness won't judge him like the walls in his bedroom do
you know something's wrong when your kid left the window open
and the suicide rates are increasing
with social customs and ideals
we missed something along the way
the missing puzzle piece to this thing called life
what importance is it if no one's going to leave a mark
but artists will still starve on the streets of cities
while corporate sellouts run them
and maybe that's why the kid ran away because he's an artist
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 11:33 PM UTC
I no longer use fantasy as a stimulus. Because pretend drama is but extra drama to experience and I’m unwilling.
Who do you think these rock stars are, whose lives are so glamorously appealing?
My heroes are few and far between, those who help the blind to see. Those who’ve survived life’s fatal wounds, still recognised beyond tomb.
You choose yours, I’ll choose mine. I won’t commemorate the sellouts or the killing kind.
Apr 7, 2025
Apr 7, 2025 at 8:04 AM UTC