Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"snoops" poems
Snoop dogg, snoop lion Through the fogg we see hes cryin we ask him why he will not tell He broke his favorite reggae bell It sounded smooth and made him feel good Just like his kush that he burned in the hood Dre gives his condolences but it is no use Snoops bell has already tied its nuse So for his bell we mourn, for his bell we pray Light one for the bell, it died to day
0
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 8:01 PM UTC
An ode to the dogg
The ugliest person is a monster. His talons taunt and tease. He waits for a hint of weeping. He cackles at your misery. The ugliest person is a scuttling bug. She sneaks and snoops and snarls She's just too close and just too far To resolve her started quarrels. The ugliest person doesn't think The others need to eat and drink His only concern is his own name in ink. The ugliest person feeds you a stew With a drip of her and a drip of you Stirs and simmers until you want it too.
0
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 2:12 AM UTC
Ugly
I am a sitter at windows, said Lucia; I am a thinker of sad thoughts, a gazer at stars and moon and the bright hot afternoon sun. My thoughts taunt me like bullying children, they repeat words and images and strings of verbal abuse like repetitive ***** I sit at the window with folded arms, my *** numb on the window ledge, my eyes peering through the netted curtains, taking in the sights, the people, the cats and dogs, the cars and buses, the odd cyclists, the women pushing prams, children crying at the side. I see and know my childhood ghosts, the locked doors, the no supper nights, the starving rumblings of an empty stomach, words bellowed through the doors by angry parents. I am one who stares from windows, one who snoops through netted curtains, taking in the sights, hearing imperfectly the outer sounds, the stolen kisses and hugs from teenage loves, the backyards fondles, *** on the cheap, lives, loves, kisses and holds. I see new moons, quarter moons, half moons and full moons and the lunatic surge pulls me in and pushes me out, my moods change like the waves of the sea, the deeps drowning me in depression, the black dog’s bark, thoughts of death in a bath, slit wrists, over doses, hanging behind a bathroom door like mother had, eyes popping, tongue protruding. I think of past loves, dream of what might have been, the boys who came and went, the ones who stayed and spoiled, the girls who stayed the night for sensual *** or schoolgirl kisses, of visits to an asylum before mother’s demise, the locked doors, the cruel cries and lunatic laughter, the odd looking staff, the eyes, the tongues, the finger gestures from closing doors. I see the work of the gods in my daily stares, the passing people on their way to death or work or love or indecent *** with another’s love, or a child innocent as a flower’s bud plucked and pulled and brain washed by an adult hand and tongue. I am one who sees what’s come to an end and what’s sadly begun.
0
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 2:29 AM UTC
SITTER AT WINDOWS.
I am a sitter at windows, said Lucia; I am a thinker of sad thoughts, a gazer at stars and moon and the bright hot afternoon sun. My thoughts taunt me like bullying children, they repeat words and images and strings of verbal abuse like repetitive ***** I sit at the window with folded arms, my *** numb on the window ledge, my eyes peering through the netted curtains, taking in the sights, the people, the cats and dogs, the cars and buses, the odd cyclists, the women pushing prams, children crying at the side. I see and know my childhood ghosts, the locked doors, the no supper nights, the starving rumblings of an empty stomach, words bellowed through the doors by angry parents. I am one who stares from windows, one who snoops through netted curtains, taking in the sights, hearing imperfectly the outer sounds, the stolen kisses and hugs from teenage loves, the backyards fondles, *** on the cheap, lives, loves, kisses and holds. I see new moons, quarter moons, half moons and full moons and the lunatic surge pulls me in and pushes me out, my moods change like the waves of the sea, the deeps drowning me in depression, the black dog’s bark, thoughts of death in a bath, slit wrists, over doses, hanging behind a bathroom door like mother had, eyes popping, tongue protruding. I think of past loves, dream of what might have been, the boys who came and went, the ones who stayed and spoiled, the girls who stayed the night for sensual *** or schoolgirl kisses, of visits to an asylum before mother’s demise, the locked doors, the cruel cries and lunatic laughter, the odd looking staff, the eyes, the tongues, the finger gestures from closing doors. I see the work of the gods in my daily stares, the passing people on their way to death or work or love or indecent *** with another’s love, or a child innocent as a flower’s bud plucked and pulled and brain washed by an adult hand and tongue. I am one who sees what’s come to an end and what’s sadly begun.
Continue reading...
48
A bonnie with lingerie now ecstasy but soul envelop standing while her phone snoops coals with her man there will join in best time with aster glow bare only to unwind alight with score.
0
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
Model Ensconce
Given name Samuel but you can call me Sam was driving by the vestibule when I had to yell god **** Saw this little fresh dressed fool trying to run a scam and pushed him down the stairs at school Broke his ******* hand, I ran into the record shop looking for Manfred Mann ended up picking up this Book about the Son of Sam, a crazy killer from NYC shot women in the night got his lessons from a dog Who spoke with Satan’s bite. That homeboy is so crazy and just maybe is also right we got too many Idiots hanging in plain sight maybe we should pin them down under water bright until they give up and Lay still, you know, just give up the fight…but murders wrong unless your Snoop and then it’s just a case You overcome and get let off of by selling off your face, see Snoops a pawn deep in the game making Money off you ***** acting like he still the **** quacking like a duck any of you still following rappers Actors and sports stars are probably drowning your tears in a series of bad bars you remind me of Chris Farley Fat and drunk and dumb acting like you are the **** reminiscent of a *** or homeless man stinking of Gin old milk and mistake fake *** brother taking money from your mother hitting on your brother’s wife Trying to start another fight, its all-right, cause you white –
0
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 5:25 PM UTC
crap rap VIII (MCDJpjs)
The on-screen horror Was as vivid as the real thing. We watched as people died Fighting against an evil king. While in our own lives We just smiled and went along. Maybe we might have stood up If accompanied by a clever song. It won for best picture The saddest we had seen It shocked and appalled us In nearly every scene. The Director thanked Jesus The author and his wife. Yet the king is still alive, But this time in real life. Screen heroes heroes as shallow As comic-book supermen; They are full of flash and dash Then they run back home again. We honor them much more Than the people who save us And fail to see the blessings Their dedication gave us. Day to day our teachers And our medical personnel, Our police and our firefighters Confront a real-life hell. Those people and the military Are paid the lower wages While people who show profit Get rich while the holocaust rages. So, filmmakers are delighted With each new massacre. After all, making ****** fortunes Is what entertainment is for. The media allows much more time To the ogres in our society. Villainy is more photogenic Than any kind of propriety. As long as the public can’t resist Buying those pathetic rags, The tabloid press will still reward Snoops, gossips and nags. Those are the same fools Who then go on to elect Crooks and thieves and liars With disastrous global effect.
0
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
ON-SCREEN
The wiretap traps me and my conversations betray me, society's got it in for me, they want to listen to and watch everything I do and they think that's something new, but its been going on forever where the people fear the unknown and whether they know it or not this is the society that we've got, snoops and snouts and busy bodies, nobody wants to see what society is doing to us and me who couldn't give a **** if they want to waste their time and look can see it, I am it and I'll be fit for the camera spys who want to score a point by pointing lens intending to listen in and what can we do but pose and smile. In a silo twenty kilotonnes of high explosive yield sealed inside an ICBM waiting for the wiretap men stands sentinel, watching for the strike, I like that we are being projected on some console, toll free we are free to blow the world apart.
0
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 9:55 PM UTC
Rule 23
He come down from the hill .. He come down wise ---- Lookin all ways now Fer the police ----- ---- He had some gold in his pocket So he went a courtin his "special" girl ... She said " throw that filth away if ya Wanna be with me" -- So me throwed the gold away ----- -- He got something ta say ... (Snoops ....errywhere !!) --- Best keep ya mouth shut Stay outta jail! ------ --- AMERICA! .. ATE IT'S OWN CHILDREN DIDN'T YA SEE?
0
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 8:40 PM UTC
.....in the sand