"sheik" poems
Lights off, ma bad-ass homies are juz drank,
buh then I saw ya dancing in da club.
Ma head was blown, let's kick it!
Cuz ya could be ma tight moll,
o' let's juz put a bullet
on the clock in these tight walls.
If I'm wit ya,
ma heart could fly so high like a G6,
Imma be glad if ya be mine
tho I ain't da niftiest sheik.
And if loving ya could take ma life
to da street, cuz of a set trippin,
then ya could be a flower
on ma Chicago Overcoat on ma big sleep.
Miss me wit dat! Ma bad,
buh I ain't gonna take ma words back,
I ain't no good, buh Imma gangsta poet
juz a poet wit rhyming words as AK,
so Imma put sum shizzle down
and write what it means.
To me love is gangsta, family is gangsta,
loyal is gangsta, if that's not gangsta,
I don't wanna be gangsta.
O' ma sheba, wazzup!
Let's show 'em what is real luv.
Then luv me less, until ya luv me more
and let's live as gangsta poets
in this gangsta world.
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 11:12 PM UTC
Donald Trump was elected President of those United States,
He said to his household: Stay here awhile, I notice a fire..."
-Sheik Al Jilani
The people hate him, the nation opposes him,
Perhaps I shall bring you news of it."
-Sheik Al Jilani
Iraq is the world's second largest source of proven oil reserves...
Hold your tongue! You have no common sense! Your house on the river Tigris and yet you are dying of thirst?
-Sheik Al Jilani
just two steps from
everything
everything
O' seeker
hereafter
See,
-Me.
Two steps removed...
-right?
Coming home in a Baghdad Slater...bleary yet with sight. *
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 3:07 AM UTC
What is a loser?
Someone spiraling within a microcosm of unfortunate events?
Or forgetting to update one’s facebook status in the macrocosm of tiresome vents?
People nowadays throw around insults as smiles and cheek,
Loser is a mere phrase between impudence and courageousness, sheik.
Many forget the power in which words command,
“Sticks and stones may break my bones”, but words unmanned..
Rip the heart and soul and cannot withstand,
The ebbing soreness of our confused migraine.
Perhaps I misunderstand.
Twenty-first century loser on the other hand,
Means you've made it into the ‘in-crowd’,
Enshroud,
Rain twinkling like stars,
Bicycles feeling like cars.
Yet heed this warning with everlasting effect,
Your words are yours to not neglect,
Take pride in your intellect!
Those hearts you may sway,
With words of colour and not grey,
As sweet as if valentine’s day.
May encroach your direction through doors unknown,
Before hinged like an Antarctic zone,
Forget “loser”, create your throne.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 7:35 PM UTC
Byron and I play
The All Topics Open.
Eighteen holes
Invariably draws nostalgic.
Byron mentioned he went to the WWF in Detroit.
I sliced into a childhood memory
Of midgets at Cobo Hall:
Cobo Hall, Saturday Night. Be there!
Byron started pitching old wrestlers and holds:
Leaping Larry Shane, great with the Anaconda Vice;
Killer Kowalski vs. Bobo Brazil, pinned by the Crucifix and Abdominal Stretch;
**** the Bruiser* tagging with The Sheik
To defeat Gorgeous George and Crybaby McCarthy.
Byron went on in detail, with tabernacle authority:
“It was a Bear Hug that quickly swung in to a Quarter,
then Half,
then Full Nelson;
Crybaby bounced off a knee,
Was driven to the mat and pinned
By a Front Sleeper.”
(Jimmy's newborn picture faded in,
and the pose he naturally struck
baby arms
cocked like a sideshow muscle man
Daddy quipped: **** the Bruiser*.
I was Leaping Larry Shane.
Daddy quipped: Larry the Stooge.
I didn't see that move)
Byron was intense. I could hear, but
I was zoning.
Crybaby and Front Sleeper dazed me.
How time Venns.
I was pinned today.
I recognized the feeling.
Tagged, then pinned by
The inescapable
Baby Nelson.
You know the hold.
On your back.
Baby on chest, face down.
Pinned.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
Did God not make love vain in the first place?
Stolen my wings; my sacred space.
Did God not lie to us all?
To say together we fall.
Can we have time?
Because peace can only appease my rhyme.
What is with people today?
We act in our subconscious away from the fray.
Can someone just make sense?
Because what does not makes the world tense.
Only sticking around because I am a known freak.
To women I am not sheik.
Can someone just make sense?
Because this world seems dense.
Will I succumb to my fear?
Because away from this world I wish I could disappear.
People are starting to swerve as they steer.
What is wrong with people today I said with no fear.
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 7:39 AM UTC
phoebe will remain my hostage until
four barrel's hipster overlords hear my plea
we're all made of sparkledust and turkish delight
and if you hate drinking sonoma butter and
having money, my doctor Archmage Overlord
said the the "happy drink" element you seek is
less like strong coffee and more like the invasion
of normandy with turkey slaughter in the background
kfc's new turkey flavored chicken tried looking
for drugs in the neighborhood but
timothy leary, his suave excellency, sheik knight of nee
abstained from the devil's coffee with headaches and brain fog
anyway, that's why i attacked the
complimentary peanuts and russian balloon juice
FURIOUS POSTSCRIPT
"no one can understand the truth until
he drinks of the feline's frothy goodness"
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
Now for those that don't know
I'm a huge fan of ninjas
From cyberpunks like Hiryu and Jago
I guess my subconscious is linked to them
These warriors in the wind
From Sheik to Smoke
Ermac's telekinetic choke
Ryu Hyabusa to scorpion
subzero to Joe Musashi
These warriors in the wind
are part of what defines me
Raven and Yoshimitsu
I'm nowhere near the ability or agility of a ninja
Ninjutsu probably would end up being the tool of my demise.
I may never reach the skill of a ninja
but that doesn't mean I won't try
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
i would compromise
--i compromise. i appear to i mean,
with peace-demeanor customized for show
paraded there and there, obeisant nonsense
in a confidence of meek to render compliments
crowding infancies of all
for the sake of art
i bend my frame about cliche
to have a human dragon claim
"the real persists unknown"
and gather at a sacred dolmen
fascinating morals sung beneath the stars and sun--
you said there was a butterfly
tasting at my skull, shaking with uncommon music too..
its skinny, immigrant feet abuzz
within the world they called a One, wings on pause, my eyebrows in flight.
a blanket iris cries warmth
in clusters hung ripe, filming over all
a native ceremonial, falsepolitik
i pluck at them atop a fence
obscure for comforts masking truth
discarded, found, fashioned
into furniture for candled houses
built with children's sons
where families try to see
a clearing in the warping
mirrors saddled with a dripping time no illustration comprehends
. wooden beams help it rise and dim,
the sunny lie, genuinely fake,
authentic trick of aeons hidden in the true
-- growing young, stemming back
to foil brighter undiscoveries for otherwisely
patient basements full of heirlooms,
sheik dining areas all
nodding over cheap wine we still manage to squint up at nothing at
in apple layers
symbolizing tidy crimes invented ceaselessly,
serving existential voids--
grace, fall, stumble catch
acquired tones of oak or berry--
other fruits would do, or none,
as i still feel
praised by your rejections --
when indifference gains a sweetness
like a novel vengeance won
i am indulging villainy
workshopping staling norms,
garden dark as cultivated loam.
where i am words
mooding intellect to torment,
faun complexity awry
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 8:37 AM UTC
The moment you graced my presence, my mind switched to 16-bit mode.
You was a classic type of adventure, one evolution rarely shows.
All these side quest chicks you made me put on pause soon to be ended.
Cause playing sandbox style wasn't the type of image you've given.
Hips more curved than a sonic loop makin me want to do a quick run thru.
But your eyes told no lies they made me more than see.
That your quest was bigger than any final fantasy
So I'm taking my time to learn this pattern
To figure out how to beat your robot masters
Stage 1 your name Stage 2 your number skip to stage 6 make sure I'm the thoughts in your slumber
My mind's so focused my inputs gotta be right
One wrong move and I lose my last life tonight
No save points just passwords you say I gotta learn your codes
Wouldn't dream of cheating ya besides I don't know what buttons to hold.
Well **** baby you say that I made it to the end?
What's that? To see the true ending I gotta... Beat it.... Again?
But there's somethin about you that just seems worth the hassle.
Cause you got me jumping like mario racing to bowser's castle.
You're as cunning as zelda, as sweet as peach
As scary as you want when you feel your inner sheik.
You got a smile more connected than the perfect tetris
An old school star that's leavin me feelin rather hectic.
Cause you see it's so easy playing for the highscore
But when ya add a lil passion you don't get as easily bored
So I see this challenge as straight 2D
No circular levels just a series of puzzles between you and me
Let's make this purely one on one a street fighter thing.
No crossover tag action hyper fighting fling
See you got it all twisted just check my guide book
A good portion of character data is written on your look
Quick call doctor mario I think I got the flu
I need help tryin to convey these abstract thoughts to you
See you're like 16-bit beginnings hand drawn and expertly crafted
drawn so precisely each movement in action
So I'm focused on this quest like them double dragon twins
Ready for whatever final boss you got at the end
It makes everything worthwhile when I see your beauty on the go
And I drop my ps3 world to switch to my 16-bit mode
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 2:13 AM UTC
Let's disappear
Into the celestial
Blue enigma,
Accompanied by the
Mysterious
Persian Sheik, king cobra
Constricting the
Violet suns in his eyes.
Coyotes lead
The waning hunt, consuming
T h e g l a s s c e i l i n g.
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 11:18 AM UTC
Consider the new dances not of this current newsy
Riddle the wail of the police siren
See how fast the robbers run
And the crooks stay still
Consider the new drunks of the prohibition revolution
What are those sons o' guns getting loaded on?
Most likely the lure of the fish stream which trickles far & fast
Past three
Consider the being not allowed to write the next letter
Singed hair reaches up into the spreading air
And she's gone
Just like that
Consider the heart in the shape of a telescope pointing to the ground
What will the magnitude of a flash of red say?
Anger sits next to sorrow
And shares a shot and a drink
Consider the days ones head is so heavy & ******
Thomas can't even stand still or lay in His bed
Soldiering on through the thicket of the fog
To hear the children play with the white dog
Consider the eyes which open in the morning to see neighbors crying
Whether they feel anything at all is of no importance
The eye sees
The mind judges
Consider the center of a being in the jukebox next to the vinyl
Blood soaked tear drop ripples of vibrations can't talk
Up until you came in here
I was having a hell of a time
Consider the illogical reason of reason theoretical waitress schemes
She wears orange to match Her hair, which she seems angry about
Maybe the heat of the hue
Is actually true
Consider the yawning for an entire lifetime
Reeling back the eyes to see Buddha, Jesus, and Elvis
Playing
Strip Poker
Consider the communal misfortunes where tea is spilt on a biblical purpose
Where the tyrannical pyramids grew feet, got up & left
Sheik chicks see themselves only once
In the dunce, then move on
Consider the moving cars through highways packed in like graveyards
Making a living but
Never
Living
Consider the constitution wearing an earring the size of your eyeball
Dashing yet sophisticated weak and ignorant
Sprinkled with an ironic sense
Of self-confidence
Consider the birth of something new
Being there and breathing
Going through the whole ordeal
Then dying with it
Jun 6, 2011
Jun 6, 2011 at 12:11 AM UTC
He’s got natural rhythm, a girl in a red dress, a suit of clothes, a hat and a silk vest,
A set of brogues, a packet of cigarettes, a 20 dollar bill with no regrets.
He’s got a fast mouth, a slick deck of cards, chequered blues and a V8 ford;
He’s got jazz, gospel, and ragtime too: a carpet bag and a jug for *****
Sheba, Sheba, Sheik!
He’s got it, he’s got Jake,
His feet will roam from town to town.
Sheba, Sheba, Sheik, Sheik!
He’s the devil with a big black snake,
Your feet may never leave this town; not alive anyway!
For he’s on the board walk,
She’s on the board walk,
We’re on the board walk now!
He’s got mojo, see him switch and walk, a winning smile, a stick of chalk,
He’s a hot shot, man about town, his skin is sweet and his eyes are brown,
He’ll strut that rooster, beat them gums, take cash or cheque before she comes.
He’s got jazz, gospel, ragtime too, a carpet bag and a jug for *****
Sheba, Sheba, Sheik!
He’s got it, he’s got Jake,
His feet will roam from town to town,
Sheba, Sheba, Sheik, Sheik!
He’s the devil and no mistake
Your feet may never leave this town; not alive anyway!
For he’s on the board walk,
She’s on the board walk,
We’re on the board walk now!
Song Link: https://youtu.be/l5papPgYaBc
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 6:53 AM UTC
single dark hair pokes through
natural fiber button-up
clinging to a bulging belly
free from beer to blame
38 year old frame
six feet five inches
hides 300 pounds
along with two or three x’s
depending on the brand
and bran
and counting
longing for that ole ****** sheik
that only came with ******
and emaciation
information avalanche out of control
living with bread addiction
sounds silly after melting crack with vinegar
pop can spoon fed
looking at fields of wheat with contempt
longing for enriched flour
status vs station
am I built to die young?
like my fathers before me
extra fat on the organs
can only lead to uncomfortable death
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 12:37 PM UTC
Gotcha,
Sheik,
It took a while,
But most government
Jobs do.
You had a good run,
And died a lion
In many eyes,
Though a caged lion,
In a cage
Of your very own,
Behind walls of your own.
Didn't know
There was a breed
Of Seals
That went over walls,
Eh?
I wonder where
Your buddy Ayman went.
Perhaps it's safe
For him
To go home now,
Egypt,
Right?
Inshallah.
I saw the wild celebrations,
Outside the White House,
At Ground Zero,
At the Air Force Academy.
Once we had:
VE day,
VJ day.
We cheered then,
For the dying
Would stop.
What of VO day?
I thought VO was,
A whiskey.
The dying won't stop
For VO day.
What's all the cheering for?
Celebrating the death
Of one enemy?
As if we'd won
A war?
We should feel
Just a little *****
Let us thank
Those who did this
Most necessary deed
For us,
Then let us
Go about our business,
And leave them with
Their thoughts.
I think I'll stop by
The old Ebbitt Grill.
Maybe I can find
A chicken hawk,
To have a celebratory
Beer with.
Rest in Peace,
If you can,
Sheik,
With the fishes.
There are no virgins
At full fathom five.
Copyright 2011 by Gary Misch
All rights reserved
Sep 25, 2011
Sep 25, 2011 at 9:24 PM UTC
In a scribble
grammar-sphere
Covid-spastic-wormholes
from a new world intelligence.
Come on dudes this is a personal invite
who-ever own the guru-rules out there
come clear make contact
let's boogie on Bach
eat together with Spock,
vegans are welcome too
no disecting
no probes
no props
only sunlight strobes
just the few of us
a humpback tv
Danny Glover, Aeon flux
and Spielberg,
indulged in mars bars and smoked-yeast,
if the kitchen heats up I'll offer you
oil Sheik in galaxian crude dip with
elongated Musk on fire and ice.
May 16, 2023
May 16, 2023 at 2:15 PM UTC
So obsessed
She is
changed
Her Closet
Turn-on
Lover
Something
submerged____
Never full lips
sheath
dresses
Walk-in confesses
Vanderpump Rules
Just take one
ticket you mules
Being tagged
Pants Golden pocket
Price reduced
One chosen
Deep every breath
we take in
Miss Marilyn
Road some like it hot
More to hustle
(Monroe)
Curves and wiggles
Spiky heels
Named Doe
The Skid Roe
Never make a deal
The sheik riding hood
**** lower than hell
backs
Too unveil him
Who should?
The warm sun camels
closet smells slender
Cigarettes
Never cracks
That whodunit
Walk-in
Only low backs
Sherlocked dress
Mystique to guess?
Monique
He spilled
Sinnamon latte
Exotic Tiger print
Whispers Walk-in
Hints?
Love magnetized
late
The caramel
sensuous sips
A girl best
friend
Not one
ring or
love note
Valentine email
Dressed in closet
But it wasn't mine?
Stacks of
dresses
A+ Yes, never a no___
I believe
I will find
your vote
Coziness Closets of
many
alterations
Altered her vision
Designer maniacs
Never ticks
**** hens and clocks
Guys under the weather
The Umbrella ladies
Eating chocolate
Being bombed
Mr. Drakes
All latex
Younger
man
Plastic
double
agents
Of Botox
Oh! Dear
Mommy
Closet case!
Can you spell
spellbound
The green envy
dress
Near her
wallflower
the wax museum
of witches
Breaking some
britches
Broomsticks
Fly Robin Fly closet
Oh! Why
So subtle the Seance
Copies in her Palace
Something rearranged
her closet
Humanity switch
Her designer
hangers
underground
She became
the closed
closet mute
Shabby chic
out of lines
Never bling
I am going
to wash
that man
out of
Ponytail
I wonder
Why? whipped
hair
My big
walk-in
closet
You're invited
The girls live in
her shoes don't
judge a closet
With all her books
Tied to his ankle
Whip cream-color
Come over
You stepped
accidentally
into her dirt
French
tulip skirt
Her walk-in closet
she calls them
on skype lips up
The Closet
always shuts up
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 10:57 AM UTC
Detroit dropped away
after the big band wedding,
where The Sheik of Araby
climbed the hot pine hall
& the two of us killed
a bottle of Laphroaig
that we bought by the church
from the bulletproof glass man.
The next day,
she got the call -
he had died
in her room.
The marriage
began to sag
at that exact moment -
something failed,
something failed,
something closed
that never reopened.
I was alone
breathing
her desperate air,
her secrets almost
off the tongue,
almost vulnerable,
but left unshared,
carried alone,
held away from me -
I found it out the hard way.
I still feel it,
the green empire
of the reception night
punctuated by her
lipsticked cigarettes,
& the trumpets calling
both of us back inside
for last call.
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 1:49 PM UTC
A Sultan set out on a journey one week,
when back to his harem he did sneak.
It startled his wives,
who scrambled for their lives
and let out a terrified sheik.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 11:15 PM UTC
Emotions run deep, and deeper they must seep
But what do they seek?
Nothing but sheltering words,
be it from a Sheik, or a Greek.
The imagery is both out-worldly and unspeakably realistic
We try to find a way, a channel, a historical shuttle
Only to have it expressed in vague words
"Here, another puzzle".
The words dance in rhythms and riddles
Sometimes unfathomable,
Yet once aligned, they cast a spell.
The spell is poetry.. and it has a society
Countless souls, and souls yet to come
11th of August, marked the arrival of its rightful king
Tired and tireless, a lifetime of embodying poetry
O captain, my captain!
Let us roam the forgotten streets and share a bottle of cheap gin
Let us whisper inappropriate jokes into the ears of those who deem suicide a great sin!
And Let us remember that once conscious, mankind was in tragedy,
but through comedy, we found our remedy.
Rest in Pieces,
For I swear to Jesus, I can hear your laugh at "Pieces".
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 5:32 AM UTC
one is so glad
for not being a member
of his harem
exclusion from the inner sanctum
gives one a good perspective
on the everyday doings
between his adoring ladies
one oft sees them bickering
over his attention
the females appear
to be competing
at a super-human rate
hoping he'll send a flashing wink
their way
the sheik
has many choices
inside
his tent
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 6:03 AM UTC
Sit back as I free base the mic
Keep ya *** tight
Like constipation facin’ the nation
One man crew represent
Houston smell my lbs of mints
I get intense leave brain cells pinched
Rhymes lynched clear the bench
When I make a walk around talk around
I get around **** more than bobby brown
Make emcees jump around I get down
Like James Brown
the Black Ceasar
Take over the crowds leave *******
Leaning like the tower of Pisa
I even got Mona Lisa
To Crack a smile biggie with my flow
As well as what sits below
The heavy set hitter no bullshitter
Think twice I’m spittin’ naughty nothing
So come.with it
But I know you ****** bluffin’
Actin’ toughin’
til they see me
They Common Man as David Ruffin
Now the guns got they spirits floatin’
Throw ya ashes in the ocean
**** a notion
I’m shady take notes from.the lyrical.
Oracle now say it im…
Hit up the scene
With pounds of green
& 50 gran sittin’ in between
My Benz six hundred the best class
Showin’ raw ***
Check the state it reads Texas plates
How can I relate ?
To the loot im accumulatin’
Aint no debatin’
jealous critics be hatin’
Im.creatin’
An epitome so forceful the feds can’t get to me
Gettin’ more *** then pimps get
forget
What they sayin’
pay attention to my pipe layin’
****** beats with no need for sheets
Sneak peak dirtier than a Iraq Sheik
Smooth as an undercover like women of cocoa butter
Skin since the world is sin
I take a shot of gin for the djinn
To settle in
Take control then i menace the mic
Like Mike got the game on lock
6 undefeated makin’ miracles
Not satirical got critics sayin’ he’s Unbelievable! !!
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
an alter ego I’ll invent
a handsome know it all agent
to whim and parry the low event
and explain the thought I really meant
it was so here then there it went
settled under the Sheik of Arabia’s tent
in desert camp under the firmament
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 8:50 PM UTC
Whatever troubles we teachers undertake
We change you to truth from clear fake.
Teachers are doing work hard for your sake
Want you all to be like sweet and quiet lake
Whose water is drunk by all people in quake.
We teachers who work like an object opaque
Who stop harsh and heavy rain at daybreak.
We never care for our brain, body or backache
Whenever we see or feel hurt by your mistake.
What we expect from you is not any fruitcake;
But sincere efforts made by you for your sake.
Though sometimes you were beaten with stake,
It was solely for your own drawbacks to rake
So that I wished to make you well-known Sheik
Whom nobody on this cruel earth can overtake.
So have teacher’s respect for teacher's sake.
Whatever troubles we teachers undertake
We change you to truth from clear fake.
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 6:30 AM UTC
cast aside
and with the passage of time i find
forget the constellations
i prefer compressed sediment
casually given to the shore
your door frame beckoning
from the glistening overlook
wild and overgrown
lush-sheik
come place me on your shelf
smack on the googley-eyes
and keep me in your purse
nightstand is fine too though
its like when you see in those vampire movies, you know man, and the main vampire ***** that one mortal and gets all butt-hurt when she dies. yeah. like that.
im immortal compared to you here
ill have googley-eyes a million years from now
****
i didnt think this through.
OOOoOOOoooO!
in a million years...
youll be a rock too.
done
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC