"slappin" poems
I'm so in love with Fridays Fridays Fridays
I'm so in love with Fridays
yeah hipper cooler Fridays
ya gotta love them Fridays
yum yum yummy Fridays
rubbin tummy Fridays
slappin ass-in Fridays
get your giggle Fridays
all together Fridays
I'm so in love with Fridays
Fridays Fridays
Jul 30, 2010
Jul 30, 2010 at 3:18 PM UTC
Reggae night, rasta night,
Blunts are rolled, tru de night.
Round young spliffs, rolled so tight,
***** and ****** hit me so right.
Smoke in heavenly peace,
Smoking in heavenly peace.
Reggae night, rasta night,
Island boy, raised up right.
Radiant beams from thy holy ****
All night long, we be singin' dis song.
Poundin' dat kush so hard,
Pounding that ****** so hard.
Reggae night, rasta night,
Slappin' de bass, it's quite a sight.
Kush smoke climbs to de heavens above
Jaco greens out, Hallelujah.
Reggae the Savior is born,
Rasta the Savior is born.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 6:44 PM UTC
Slap da bass right up mon.
Slap da bass down low now.
Bump ya sweet ting a little closa.
I just wanna get to know ya.
Gettin' all blem on ya vibes.
You gettin' knocked down by mine.
Bend down, turn 'round, back it up right.
Wanna puff what I'm puffin' all night.
Me nose burns with wit smoke.
Me body's empty, waiting for ya touch.
The bass is slammin' in me ear drums.
The bass slappin' makes me face numb.
Beat poundin' as I slide over
Boombastic rydems like no otha'.
You da noicest ting I ever did see.
Lemme take ya home. Slap da bass wit me.
Slap it riiiiiight up
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
Kickin' all the way the Live Coolio
deep in ya Culo/
it's that Boy Yosef comin' with major Flavas/
with so Many Styles more than a Hair Doo Voodoo/
got ya eyes on ya know Who?/
so many ****** wanna Smoke me
Cuz im the New Joint/
puttin' sparks to ya Head ****** Red/
if u thinkin' about Frontin'' Me/
ill make u Crossover like EPMD/
Rap Fanatic since i was Swimmin' in the Nut Sack the Mack Attack/
hittin' all your perspectives
im takin' out all the Primitives/
in the Rap Game Shoot ya Stick
try again my- Flows erected as a ****
in between ***** *****
so take Chance it ya Want/
Watch the gun taunt
in ya Face a sad Disgrace/
Slappin' a new taste
in ya Mouth i Dropped it
my Style can't be Competed
you Obsoleted
i'm Makin Profits the Funk Baby!!!!
Many Emcees sweet as a KitKats
so cut the Chit Chat/
cuz im bout to Splatter their careers into pieces
Gotthem Envisionin' Doubles
like Noah i Told ya
the Tru Soldier Rollin' Dogia/
marchin' to the Beat with my Vocal
a Tru Loco/
when i'm sippin E & J **** an Airplay pinin' Indo/
playin' suckas close like who's holdin' the most/
weight? Pushin' rhymes like weights
Loots stay Connected like freight Train Crates/i Dominate from all states
that's why they Call Me All-State/
but ya Ain't in Good Hands
-tryna Step to the Big Man
keep u heated galore like Afghanistan gettin' in that *** like Sand/
so take Stand and a Bow cuz im the Prowl/
for that Number One Slot
ya rhymes loose as Jar Jelly
**** what the critics tell me
"Mr Big Stuff" girls call me "Heavy D"
From then shaft that lays between me
the Funk Baby!!!
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 10:36 AM UTC
Arrrh, here we be again
at "Talk like a Pirate day"
we'll spew our gaffs and have some laughs
slappin wenches bums, while we're at play
We'll have some grog
mockin the captain's log
reading lines of sea bound times
and cabin boys, he's flogged
When the eve be ov'r
and drunken we'll awake
it's out to sea, we'll all be
nursing our headache
Our love for wenches stowed
miseries bandon'd in the hold
mainsail's set, we'll not ferget
we be pirates, young and old
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 8:55 AM UTC
tizz is an uncle, bro and dem richez
i was born viciouz, but always had visionz
a young boy used to build bridgez
between black and white, peace and fight
dreamy adolescence, i spit out whole heavenz
wit my divine essence, all dem "lyricis" be jealouz
but dey just "so called", cause dey so old
tizz grew cold, so not any of dem amateurs won't grow old
i'm so cold, i freeze, **** and stay, then i eaze among dem geez
we live in codez like secret service, dealin' wit burnaz
quick learnaz, sick and sane, our skin is thick,
we don't feel pain, black lion's mane, heaven yeah
no expression can illustrate tizzopish aggression
pay attention! watch out for dat other direction
receive my blessin', kneein' between me and the destined
it's battle rappin', it's slappin' againzt all of ya actin'
friendship versuz rush, some peepz start to blush
when you remind them of valuez, like some bad newz
i'm the man whose bad moodz be legendary, like a legionary
dealin' wit whatz necessary, cause i was born predatory
find tizz shinin' in the mornin' glory and rhymin' a story
readin' diz is mandatory, just anotha category,
stolen from the laboratory, **** am i now swollen,
and all-in like all-night, alright, feed em just a small bite
Nov 7, 2020
Nov 7, 2020 at 8:13 AM UTC
Space Cowboy
He said he was a Miller
but he carried a kow-kow calculator
see him on the street
he'd say hey I'll catch you later
from children of the future
a 10 gallon Stetson on his head
he could fly like an eagle
or cruise his Mercury blues instead
they say he took the money and ran
rumor was Junior saw it happen
yeah he and ***** Mae
boy did he need a good ***** slappin'
years later he was seen in swingtown
a joker jumpin' for jungle love
lost his golden key to the highway
hoping to find wild mountain honey above
c'mon and dance make some romance
bump bump bump on the steppin' stone
he left again on a big jet airliner
and never did answer his telephone
Gomer LePoet ....
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 10:30 PM UTC
I'm back, you rowdy rond boys.
Got me rowdy rond rhymes, and me rowdy rond noize.
Kick back in me ol' spot, smokin' me spliff.
Sit up in me chair when I hear a sweet riff.
It's Marley on da bass, slappin like he do
Head bangin' back and forth like ya know ya want to.
Reggae is back and me life in on track.
Got baeties in the penthouse and they cookin' up crack.
Can't believe me stopped writing. It was hard to say no.
But I'm back to smokin' mo' ***** than ever befo'.
Me poetry's like sirup, open ya mouth, and I'll pour it.
It's clever, it's dank, it's reggae. I'm glad for it
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 3:53 PM UTC
It's a beautiful day,birds singing as I'm walking Mill Lane,
listening to a few Me Fein Refrains,
I'm whistling,feeling pretty fine and dandy,
with my eyes red rovering all the eye candy,
when I hear it,brakes shriekin'-women Shriekin',
a mans voice-Hoarse, "Jaysus Someone do somethin",
I spin on me heel,eyes centred as ****
wishing this was all a dream-A runaway Truck,
tires peelin' brakes smokin' rubber burnin',
A runaway load,it's not gonna make the turn and it's
**THEN that I feel true terror in me soul,
I see a little boy playin' at the edge of the road** ,
he's a sturdy little lad,stick in hand,
pokin' at the grasses growin' up from the path,
and he's right in the Path of the Truck from hell,
Theres no decision,I'm runnin' like a bat outta hell,
and it's then that I get a feeling it's a Lucid dream,
languidity covers me,no more screams,
theres a Figure in my way that's wasn't there the last breath,
then I'm literally starin' in the face of Death...
and I FEEL his thoughts as he turns blank Orbits,
on me and his words are like this "One Obit,
uary in my Ferry is my Task today,
do you really want to be the one who gets in MY WAY?(way way way),
and he can HEAR my thoughts,just as I heard his,
"get out the fuckin' way you long streak of ****
"you said one has to go,well that's fine with me!",
"I've got coins in my pocket if you need your fee!"
and with a glint in his eye and a plangent refrain,
he touches me centre forehead and declaims "NO PAIN"
Then things speed up and I'm off fists pumpin',
feet slappin' on the pavement head down, heart jumpin,
I'm not the Flash,but I can move it when I need to Run,
and the long drawn screech is a Hell of a starters Gun,
I'm across the road like a bolt from the blue,
grab the little Man and throw him,then BANG there I flew,
its all earth,sky,earth,then a terrible jolt,
but no pain as was promised as I come to a halt,
then his Mother is there(he's on her hip) and she's holding my(only)hand,
tellin' me theres ambulances and I'm gonna be grand,
but theres a Grand Piano layin' on my Chest,
and no pain,but to be honest here-I'm not at my best,
and just as I start to think of family and friends,
before Distress can manifest too much in my mind,
a tall RATHER BONY figure stretches out his hand,
and intones into me bones,"OFF TO THE NEXT LAND(land,land,land)"
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 9:01 AM UTC
Down in the Hills of the
Mississippi River Valley
Between the Bluffs and
The river bank in Lansing
Is a Friend named Joe Price,
Born to Play the Blue's
Raised on Farming as a Boy,
Yet was a need he could not lose
He listened to Muddy Waters
And ran out to buy a Guitar
An old 1947 12 String National
Resonator with the Steel Core
He rapped his fingers around
Till his blues skills got honed
He was Destined to play with
Legends like John Lee ******
Willie Dixon and Clifton Chenier
Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee
Along with Muddy Waters and Me
I know I'm no legend but I can't Refuse
When Joe ask me to Sit in on a Knee Slappin'
Hand Clappin version of the Hobo Blues
His work boot stomped a beat
On an old flat piece of wood
As that steel Slide made that Guitar Cry
A Legend behind the Scenes he's
Played from the North down to
The Louisiana Back Bayous
And everything in Between
You'll Never Know that feeling
As the Hair stands on your Neck
This hardly known old Hobo
Was a Legend what the Heck
Till you get a chance to listen
To his Train whistle slide Moan
That 12 string Steel Guitar Tone
That sounds so very Nice
From an Unknown Legend
Name of Joe Price
His Music can be found on http://www.joepriceblue.com/
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
MaaaaaaaaaannnNNN !!!!!
I DON’T ... Give A **** !!!!!!
People over here ….
Like to …. " Pass The Buck " …
" Problems " ... Now ... APPEAR
cos most ... Live in ... " FEAR " ... !!!!!
But …
Fear's ... NOT MY PROBLEM ... !!!
My Position is ... " CLEAR " … !!!
I Know what i'm doing ... !!!
but … young people are ... Moving …
Like … New Born Deer ... !!!
Many Can't ... " stand up " ... !!!
But STILL …. They Sup ...
On ... EVERY kind of ...
Beer ... They're Near … !!!
Then come to work ...
and ... “ POSTURE ” …
with vision ....
Still ... uNcLEaR … !!!
Systems ... THIS ... !!!!
and …. Systems ... THAT ... !!!!
These Fools nowadays ...
REALLY ... Talk some ... CRAP … !!!!
They're Lucky because …..
I’m ... Tall and Black ....
because …. If I was … ???
A ... " Top Flight White " …
BELIEVE … Fo' REAL … !!! …
They Would get ... "TRAPPED" … !!!!
They'd get ... Directed …
OFF ... The Map … !!!!!
With … No Way for them ...
To ... Come Back … !!!! …
I say this stuff ….
cos' work is ... ROUGH ... !!!
when dealing with ...
These chicks and chaps ….
I hear these things ...
These days on ... Trains ...
It seems that others ...
Feel ... " The Drain " ...
of colleagues ... who ...
Can't Take ... THE STRAIN … !!!!
But are ... THE FIRST ...
to ... Dish Out Blame ... !?!
for problems ... THEY ...
Put in ... " The Frame " ...
They take this work thing ...
for a ..... " Game " ..... !?!
When Business Deals ...
GO UP ... in flames ... !!!
They look ...
" Bemused " … ? …
Now …
Ain't that ... LAME … !!!
Now ... if my name ...
was ... David Blaine ...
These people ... wouldn't ...
look the same ... !!!!! ...
They'd be like ... " Clint " ....
WITHOUT ... A Name ...
while I would ... " Drift " .................
To Those .... " High Plains " ....
and there is ... " Where " ...
I would ... RETAIN …
My ... Peace of Mind ...
CLEAR OF ... The blind ...
who try to put me ....
In a .... " BIND " ....
With ... ANY EXCUSE …
That they can ... " Find " ... ?!?
to ... CLEAR THEMSELVES ...
Leaving me .... behind ....
Well …. !!!!!
This is where …...
They Should ... BEWARE … !!!!!
My tactics are …
" Refined " ... like wine ...
NOT ... to drink ... !!!
But for ... THIS LINK ...
My train of thought …
Shows that ... I THINK … !!!
on how to leave them …
On The …. BRINK …. !!! ….
NOT … On The Virge ... !!!!!!!
Cos' that's for me ...
to ... Lyrically Splurge …
" Poetic Words " ....
that ... DEFINE ... " The Truth " ...
to … “FOOLISH HERDS" … !!!
cos' ...
Moves they make ...
Define .... “ABSURD” …. !!!?!!!
My Vision's ... CLEAR ... !!!
While there's is .....
" blurRRrrrrrEDD !!!! "
So ....
with these words ...
Do You ... " Concur " ... ???
or has ... The Piece ...
Left you like …..
D'EerrrrrrrRRRRRR …. ???!!???
I'll give you time ....
So ... Please Confer … !!!
This is ... " My Challenge " ...
Try to ... Balance ...
“PROBLEMS” … that ...
You face ... at work ...
cos' working with ….
" Blame Culture " ... Berks ...
Could …. Like the ... " Chicken " ...
Leave you ... ****** … !!!!! ...
While these ... " Smart Alecks " ...
………….. “PANIC” ………… !!!!!!!!!!!!!
And then ... " Hit The Street " ...
Just like .... " THE MANICS " …. !!!!!
This piece for me …..
Has been …. “ TITANIC ” …. !!!!!
Like the … STRUGGLES ...
In my job …. Because ….
My Colleagues ...
are ... “MESSED UP” ... !!!!!
Folks …. This is why ...
I write ... This Stuff ... !!! …
To ... STOP ME …. " Slappin' " ....
SOME FOOL ... UP ... !!! ...
Who tried to say ....
“Big Virge Messed Up ” ….
When ... TRUTH IS ….
Their work's …
ALWAYS ... " DUFF ” ... !!!!!
which is why ... " They Try " ...
to ... " COVER THEIR **** " ...
Thinking ... that they're ... SMART ... ?!?
and so ...
are quick to …
" Pass The Buck " ...
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 3:56 PM UTC
To use a quote that encapsulates my feelings right now,
“I'm tired of this back-slappin' "isn't humanity neat" ******** We're a virus with shoes.”
― Bill Hicks
The Poem
Originally I thought I suffered from irritability,
irritability of the human race.
Then I realised whilst looking at my face, it was hate.
I told the Doctor I'd thought of suicide, then realised
I wanted to commit mass homicide.
Become a hermit.
Mankind, womankind I hate you, people think me nice, fair,
and kind, I know the truth, I am a ******* so you must be too.
We as a race need a cull.
Do I like the human race? No. What's to like?
I even dislike people that purport to be friends.
I intricately step my way through this world of vermin.
We defile what is beautiful and true, hate because we
are taught to. Ruin, start wars, cause pain, then moan about the rain!
We as a race are quite crudely put, a pile of ****
but even **** has purpose, a role.
What role do we have? To hate one another?
If so please make it equal and adhere to political correctness,
by that I mean, Hate Everyone equally.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 6:34 PM UTC
Windshield wipers
slappin' time
Grandpa drivin'
Grandma singin'...
Goin' home from my
weekly Wednesday visit
after my mama died...
only allowed
one day a week
with Grandma
my mama's mama...
Always a stop
at the store
for one more
Golden book
and a roll of Lifesavers
on the way home...
and I remember
my tears
going back to a place
that did not feel
like home
and Grandma singin'
"You are my sunshine
my only sunshine".
My tears are fallin'
now
with the memory
of her voice
and the sight and sound
of the rain...
Grandpa drivin'
and Grandma singin'....
and those windshield wipers
they were slappin' time...
cj 2016
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 8:58 PM UTC
kids these days
pan handling music
on the streets
playin drummer
guitarist and sax
to these beats
a tune to the strings
movin money to bring
the notes that float
on a river of sound
to this lane down town
a crunching halt
a stuttering step
move to the jam
groovin to the funky bass
and slappin cello
as new wave poets
recite the stories of
their lives to the
empty crowds with
open minds
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 5:50 PM UTC
She's dancing in her skin tight jeans
Little boots with little tassles
When in the bar another comes
And you just know they're gonna wrassle
Hair all up, and dressed the same
I mean, these two could be twins
You know that fur is gonna fly
There'll be someone slappin' skin
There's rules in bars
At times like this
The most important one I'll mention
Is get the bartenders eye just when
You can feel the building tension
The bartender's job is now
Not serving drinks to you
So when you know a fight is on
You'd better order two
That my friend is my advice
I give it to you free
But, when I am out and it is on
I make sure I get three
Bubba's had just one too many
And you know he's gonna blow
It doesn't matter what you say
He's right and you don't know
Just grab a seat and hold on tight
And bud, take my advice
Before the bartender leaves the bar
You'd better order twice
Dancing close is always good
It doesn't do no harm
Except when the one you're dancing with
Came on another's arm
You'd better get your order in
Because, the fists are gonna fly
And you'll be waiting for a while
Before another you can buy
There's rules in bars
At times like this
The most important one I'll mention
Is get the bartenders eye just when
You can feel the building tension
The bartender's job is now
Not serving drinks to you
So when you know a fight is on
You'd better order two
That my friend is my advice
I give it to you free
But, when I am out and it is on
I make sure I get three
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
Can we jam, brothers and sisters?
Dare we meet at the impalpable chat room
that exists beyond our third heaven?
Dare we to speak in tongues and timbres,
our skin taut across hollow shells,
our veins strung across cadaverous bodies?
I'll grab my drumsticks if you grab the guitars,
and there's somebody on the bongos
slappin' the skins with zealous fervor--
where my tambourine girls at?
Don't worry, I haven't forgotten our forlorn hero
sitting behind the keyboards--
Tickle me those ivories with pious hands and aching fingers,
shake em down sweet Jerry Lee!
And so we begin--
I lay down the drum beat that bops heads and scatters feet,
and the bassman always on top of things
slaps and slides and skips and sizzles
hot diggity dog!
I hear that sweet guitar scream and moan,
praying for death under hazy lights
and we all coast with eyes rolled back into our skulls
and torpid lips drooped open over slack jaws.
Not a word is said from a human voice,
we speak through hands and feet,
basking in colors eking from every kick drum stomp
and the desperate wail bleeding from amplifiers.
Feedback sings and screams, fighting the silence we taunt
and hold at bay.
Around every corner the colors trail
coursing through our vesselious bodies
propelled along the dizzying venture.
We somehow spot every pothole and take detours,
embarking down backroads and backalleys--
We can turn the wheel,
but don't think for a moment we know where it's going.
And the mirror's have all vanished,
we know not from where we came.
Someone shouts from the discovery
as we exit a phrase to enter serendipity,
toying with destiny, clay in our hands,
stretching out the ****** perennially--
We laugh as the gods try to remind us we are Man.
And the screams and the moans
sensing the ****** is getting close
so there's a crescendo I ramp up the tempo
ahhhhhhhHHHhhhHhHhHhHHHHHhhhETERNITY IS NOW AND WE HOLD THE KEY TO HEAVENS GATES AND TIME STANDS STILL AT HIGH NOON IN THE TOWN'S SQUARE WHERE TRIGGER FINGERS TREMOR AND WE SPEAK TO GOD ON HIS PRIVATE CHANNEL COMING THROUGH WORN SPEAKERS CELESTIAL CREATURES IT WOULD BE SACRILEGE IF WE WEREN'T SUDDENLY SO HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY
So I say again, brothers and sisters,
can we jam?
SO I SAY AGAIN, BROTHERS AND SISTERS,
CAN WE JAM?
SO I SAY AGAIN, BROTHERS AND SISTERS,
CAN WE JAM?
So I say again,
brothers and sisters,
can we jam?
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC
Hair in a pony tail, ball cap on.
Wearin’ my team colors, ready to rock on.
Husband agitated cause I’m makin’ him wait.
Hey, gotta have my face on, I gotta look great!
Finally at the ballpark, game already rockin’.
Peanut shells crunchin’ quickly walkin’.
“Excuse me, Pardon me”. Finally to our seats.
Hot dog and a beer. This is hard to beat.
Into the first inning and our team at the plate.
Ooh, it’s my favorite player and he is lookin’ great!
Strike one. Ball one. Strike two and then,
A crack as wood meets leather and that ball is gone forever.
As one, the crowd roars and on our feet we stand and grin,
We watch our hero round the bases and bring that first run in.
Back and forth the score goes; it’s the bottom of the ninth inning.
Two outs already, bases loaded, our last chance at winning.
Crowd silent, on our feet as my hero takes his stance.
Only down by one, we know this is his chance.
They’ve brought the “closer” in, the one with all the skills.
He’s throwin’ heat, he’s throwin’ low, he’s going for the ****
A nasty strike zooms o’er the plate and a collective gasp is heard.
My guy steps back, deep breath in, and not a single word.
Ball one is what the next pitch is and the crowd begins to whisper,
My batter glares toward the mound, “That all you got there, Mister?”
The pitcher shakes off two signals from the catcher,
Checks the runners on the bases, winds up the widow maker.
Like lightning that ball leaves his hand, and with a mighty swing,
He hits the best grand slam homerun that we have ever seen.
Our team has won, the crowd goes wild, the stadium is rockin’!
Our boys are roundin’ those bases and not a one of them is walkin’!
Hand slappin’ our seat mates and huggin on each other.
A long night of baseball ended. Don’t you just love those boys of summer?
Copyright, 9/8/09 Peggy Montgomery
Aug 9, 2010
Aug 9, 2010 at 9:38 AM UTC
I’ve been a cracked soul walking on whole concrete
tar black soles slappin rapidly under weary feet..
the slaps are getting old but still, they repeat, they repeat..
like energizer bunnies, beatin deep on the ground beneath..
the sounds drummin off the walls, comin back, an rattlin my teeth..
I added a couple curses and spit it back rattling the streets..
that day I became a shell of a man walkin on cracked concrete
Cerebellum in hand scratchin my head hopin for thoughts to leak..
caught me starin again, eyes open to the sky, posing like an artful greek..
had this eerie feeling inside, tellin me my soul is an authentic antique..
but I still got uncomfortable when my current eugenics got critiqued..
I’m awed and terrified at what’s to come in my last couple a hundred weeks..
but I knew someday I wanna see laughter passin over a couple of my childrens cheeks..
So that day I began to be a whole man, soul searchin and walkin on my own two feet..
I started off by scratchin words furiously on a tattered old blank sheet..
but I don’t do it purposely to get my name on a brightly lit, white, and gold marquis..
it’s just this is the only voice I’ve got to spit a Kodak picture of my soul for free..
so my hands dance out a thousand words on paper.. every moment, a snapshot of “me”..
I rush to gather the images before they drown in reality like hazy morning dreams..
they stand up as living proof of who I am so I frame em for this crazy world to see..
cause today I stand on solid ground with well planted feet, as the man my family always wanted me to be..
I am the conqueror of both whole, and cracked concrete!!
Aug 6, 2010
Aug 6, 2010 at 1:52 AM UTC
We’re off to New Haven - hurry, hurry -
we’re jammin, crammin, slappin'
and slammin' everything into our bags.
“Fifteen minutes to take-off,”
Michael announced, “the chopper's waiting.”
with hugs all around we separated.
Our roommates too, are all catching flights
vectoring in from various sites -
our motley group will reassemble tonight.
Pew rated Yale one of the hardest universities
to get into in '23 - so is it really a certainty
that our cardkeys will let us into our residency?
Fall grades came out yesterday - Lisa and I are all grins
- we’ll have thirteen days to visit and settle in
and reorganize things before Spring semester begins.
I hope that your vacations were as fun as ours
but the New Year’s begun and in a matter of hours
we’ll resume the school grind, our holidays devoured.
Jan 5, 2023
Jan 5, 2023 at 1:12 PM UTC
its nice to be in shape
buffed up
in mannequin world
ive frequented gyms
for years
i like nice bodies
to often though
thats where nice
stops
while
nomadic
cliques
of
self admiring gym gods
squeeze out their last
leg press
bench press
laughing
slappin five
indulging
in the theater of
acoustic grunts
a public exhibition
of self aggrandizement
while the lost
uninitiated
look on
progress-less
who fear being objectified
while obsessed
objectify themselves
they
wana be icons too
magnets of adoration
unable to imagine
that their imagine-less
waxed bleached buffed
and mute
muzzled
by group think
desolated hungry women
terrified
by the direct approach
in avoidance
of the blood hot glance
liking to believe its their mind
that should excite
testosterone soaked men
these young women
pretending not to care
and show their
come **** me daddy
tears of desire
dreaming of the one
turning down the fleshy offerings
of Aphrodite
with eyes that say
i don't think so
for fear of being called a *****
in Mannequin World
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 5:36 PM UTC
I throw this *****
like a tantrum
He say my name
like a mantra
Slappin clappin ***
like a hand drum
Had him so thirsty ask him
"Don't you want a fanta?"
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 6:22 PM UTC
Junior saw it Happen
we were lovers and we were friends
I felt in my heart that she was the one
I would have traveled the worlds ends
but what I heard fell on me like a ton
she was seen with a supposed friend of mine
holding hands and giving out sweet kisses
in the movie house down on 4th and Vine
I'm left with this bitter taste of dead fishes
Junior was walking by and he saw it all
he said he was shocked by this display
so he got on his phone and gave me a call
I was gonna ask her to go steady just today
guess I was the silly fool to think she was mine
love is such a folly guess girls can be so fickled
maybe I can get my brother to buy some wine
and me and Junior can go get ourselves pickled
but you can bet the day after I get straight
I will probably need me a real good slappin'
so I don't go and beg her for another date
maybe it was a mistake but Junior saw it happen
Gomer LePoet....
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 11:57 AM UTC
her voice danced on the Summer breeze
carried over the garden
and graced the stillness of the catfish pond
"Suppers' ready"
one more fish, I thought
just one more
but I could almost smell the beef stew
and the apple pie Mama had coolin'
fish can wait
sometimes the best part of fishin'
is gettin' hungry
and no one in Clarke County
cooked a finer meal than Mom
I closed my eyes as I walked toward the house
reminding myself to save room for pie and vanilla ice cream
Dad's gonna be proud of the 4 sizeable cats I caught
a strong breeze and the sound of window blinds slappin'
brought me home again
a storm was comin'
why is it that the best dreams are always interrupted?
sliding the window shut, I can still smell that apple pie
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 2:24 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
To just sit back
And let it happen
Means she was derelict
Or otherwise jus’ napping
In either case
They’ll be no high five slappin’
For giving away the city
In a bow and wrappin’
It’s clear to me
Her capacity was reached
She allowed the decorum
To be breached
In contradiction to everything
Dr. King preached
What that says to me is
She needs to be impeached
Now some or y’all will say
Give the sister a break
But my question to them
Is how much does it take
For her to stop sleeping
And be shaken awake
So it’s time that the sister
Got hook or the rake
I wanr the name of genius
Who burned down CVS
Someone who doesn’t live there
If I had to guess
But it’s nothing but ashes now
Nevertheless
How come the police stood by
And watched it digress
Looters and burners
Are clearly implicated
But they’re not the only ones
It must be stated
So can someone tell me why
The mayor waited
For her city to burn
And only acted belated
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 11:05 PM UTC