"shwag" poems
Let’s do something illegal.
Close your eyes and make
believe we are 15.
Bills and rent. The law.
What is all that anyway?
Can we get so lost
on the beaten path
that there is nothing left
to do but find ourselves?
Let’s sneak into the stadium
with our shwag and make shift
pipe in hand. Then
make love
like we even know
what that means.
Baby make me feel
young and reckless.
Teach me how to be
punk rock, and
flip the bird to
our oppressors.
Remember when
the whole world was against us
and didn’t pretend to be with us?
Remember when
we used to know everything?
Remember when
we were young and reckless,
and had a love that only
the innocent can posses?
Remember when
we were 15?
Baby, let’s do something illegal.
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 5:43 PM UTC
Now, you see,
It's about how you treat,
Yourself
And what you feed,
To your mind body as being.
It's freeing when you realize,
The impact
Of what you are eating,
Infact
It even effects your thinking,
Feelings and actions.
So step back and
Re-asses
Re-evaluate
Re-construct
The type of chow you ate,
And
The way you eat through the day,
One meal at a time.
Seek the way,
The peak
Of focus and power
To teach
Others to encounter
Balance,
Hour to hour
Minute to minute
Be in it to win it
And limit
The shwag,
Becuase it will drag
You down in vats
Of brown
feces.
It's time to be the smart species we are,
And start to realease these
Greasy habits,
And find the heart
And peace of mind
In this peice of mine.
Now you see.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 5:32 PM UTC