"southside" poems
Love not absence makes the heart grow fonder
Today we have no doubt that this distant closeness
Between a Southside girl and a Northside boy, though
Scattered by the winds in our banking crisis, that
Brought them closer, though far away showed
Us all that they were made for each other.
Love not distance in those three thousand miles
Brought us together in the city that never sleeps
You my Southside girl and I your Northside boy
Together our challenge is an opportunity for life
That shows nothing will ever do us any harm
And that we were made for each other.
Love not closeness won my candlelight bid
For your hand in marriage today as our hearts
Were the willing victims of bold Cupid’s arrows
So I am proud to say we stand as one, proclaiming
What our families and friends already know that
You were made for me and I was made for you.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 4:28 AM UTC
Wondaland, a.k.a. The Magic Metropolis
June 13th, 2021
Esteemed Readers and Writers, Gangstapoets and Hangarounds,
Gangstapoetry proudly declares that CREATION 96 is now the second unit of our Global Movement.
We are welcoming our new members. You are now a part of us. Much Love.
Tizzop
GANGSTAPOETS
**** 13.8 * MIKEY DA STREETWISE * EAZY LEGS * ADORABLE GREGGIE * MONICA MATADORA * SLY BOOTYGIRL * COLLAPSIN CHAOT * THE LADY REVENANT * BEEN * WOOZY WIZARD * TELLY * CRATERSKATER * CHEYENNE IS STARVIN * CASPER THE PSYCHOTIC GHOST
GANGSTAPOETS
DESERT SAMURAI * PRESTON * ALBOW * SNOWBLADE MUTANT * SAMBA *
UNKLE OF DOOM * PLAY * ANTWONE *
BOBBY BUTCHAH * TINA * JOEY * DREAM SEEKER * TRANCE DISCIPLE *
* MOTH * DR. **** * KOBA COBRATONGUE
GANGSTAPOETS
SVETLANA * GUNJAHTOOL * LOUIS ORTGIES * MISHU BRAVE BEAR * GÖKHAN TATCHOUOP * DESOCIALIZED KID * WIND DIGGER * SABIÇ * JUAN * DEAL * LUCY TARANTULA * TEXAS HOLD ME * SOUTHSIDE DRILL ASSASIN * SHAWN * JAMMED JAY
GANGSTAPOETS
THCO * TIMMY ROTTEN * PLATIN ZIPPO * WORLDWIDE WAGGING * ZOMBIE NEIGHBOR * BUTCH * KWAME'S LOST SON * TRANCE24/7 * JIMMY * JOSE, FELIPE & CATHERINE * LAST OPTION PHIL * KIAN * MAX NEWMAN * MAGIC GOON
Jul 28, 2021
Jul 28, 2021 at 8:12 AM UTC
Southside Cinderella
Its about a life
full of strife
and heartache
until Jake.
I was young and wild
wanting a child
untamed and strong
but, the dream was wrong.
The life is changed now,
too late for hope now,
those dreams can't come true now,
too late for me and you now.
Now my heart is heavy as a clod,
How will love and god,
when grief and disappointment prevail
put winds back into this sail!
I fear I will hear baby laughter then,
maybe i will pretend
that the jealousy is gone.
I will go on,
angry, but will you see
there is no more baby laughter for me?
Just infertility!
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 9:00 PM UTC
her endless summer dream
gathers dust on its sand encrusted photo of
beach blanket love affairs
jet planes departing for distant lands
she had her five and dime sunglasses
and a transistor radio
tuned to the cheerful forever summer song
still has that picture of her in the fall of 66
hamming it up for the camera with her Stanley
he passed a while back
now she shuffles up along the seawall
with her big hat and her bags
candy for little ones
a kiss on the cheek for the nice
young man who brings the paper
its miami in febuary
its endless summer
its brighton beach's southside
and i know ill have to stay
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 3:50 PM UTC
Yo I got skillz by the millions
With tons of ammunition
Who fuckin' with the commission my mission
Is to control the rap game blow fish tactics
From ******* who **** quick my **** stick
Slick leave em with one eye patch cookin' up another batch
Can ya catch
The madness of real ***** with multiple figures money surpassin' the aurora
Hardcorer grim explorer non could ignore tha
Deadly pedigrees sheddin so beautifully
Im feelin' like Mango Slade cuts through like a blade
Lyrics colder than the words from Chuckie
Coastin' spells I do it well it ain't hard to tell
While ya souls fail another body destined to hell
It's Yosef ninth gate chillin' over ya crates
Like a demon intervention got ya nerves
Penchin' and itchin' soon to be twitchin' and inchin'
My every move I'm takin' ove the earthly ground
Bow down what's that it's the Southside
Breakin' em down so ya bound to drown
My armed men stack men from the guns
That back bend to the roads ya
End
No longer boys to men to deaths I comprehend
Takin' on deadly sins seven to chose from
I'm makin' chaos from USA to the New Jerusalem
And who's dumb? Enough to **** with me
While I'm on my Crazy *** leavin' ya stunned
And outdunned and who can
Come?
Against my magnificence layin' hellish scents
In the forms of an emodiment
Who could stop it
Since adversaries are culprit let the snakes
Shake and take away these painful memories
Yeah I'm dreadin' ya head missin' the feds
*** I got more bread than Pillsbury dough
So quick with the skills and I
Know
Suckas don't wanna go toe to
Toe
**** mics worse than Exodus who can plex with us
The coldest strong as a swingin' boulders
Knockin' ya head off ya shoulders I thought I told ya
Southside stay running with hidden
Soldiers
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 7:00 AM UTC
Her backbone is a long stretch of American western highway
I trace my fingers eastbound/westbound across the slats of her ribs
pressed against the skin ready to pop
She left southside Midlothian Virginia as soon as she was old enough to make her own bad decisions
sick of being looked at
eyes grading like the big fat red D's stamped on her math homework
She left by foot
bus
plain
train
that grey jetta with the scratch down the passenger side from where she parked too close to that ugly Subaru
she left me
but she needed to breathe some air that wasn't stale with mediocre pretension and the frat house odor of stale beer and sawdust
so run wild
fly free
may your lips utter cliches without fear of derision
go make your life an incredible story
beautiful
ugly
hard to look at
can't look away
make your life a story
and I'll record it
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 9:25 AM UTC
I know you haven't heard from me in years .
I thought I'd write just to let you know that Tommy Faulkner died , you know passed away . I didn't even know it until it was all over . Don't even know what he died from . Heidi told me . Oh , you don't know Heidi , my fist and third wife . She and Tommy were good friends . Last I heard about you , you were moving to North Carolina , your home by birth . But your home was always with us here on the Southside of Birmingham . Sigh !
I hoped you made a big splash back home when you arrived . Such a polar extreme . I kept your poems for years until Heidi threw out my box of poetry ,with yours included .
Also Steven Sedbury's . You remember him ? Last I heard about you , you had a brain tumor and you passed away . Now I stand alone with my ghosts and I have no address to send my posts .
Love Thomas
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 10:13 PM UTC
Check my frequency static stations easily
See haters after me cuz I invoke catastrophe
To all of my adversaries backed by hells army
Y'all can't harm me turning ****** into barbie
Dolls catch ya slippin' in the bathroom stalls guess death answered yo
Call still holding my ***** middle finger to the laws
Raw as **** uncut lyrics made to gut
MC jaggernaut and what not? Strategized with plots
You can tell I'm from Houston cuz I rap alot
Smoke a few glocks that'll make bodies rock
Hearse flow see how many I can make go
Six feet below my beef is eternal inferno
Feel the temperature rise in my
eyes
Ruthless forever as an outlaw so I'm destined to rise
Double my size fools need to
realise
My raps untouchable say y'all killers but NOOO?
Fuckin' with me you'll be sleepin' with blood on the floor
I'm ******** like nineteen ninety six deep in the mix
Watch for the snakes in the pit they nothin' but culprits
Mad at me cuz my money ain't spent ahhh ****
Another hit made by the ***** King Tut cut
Off my loyalties cuz they undercover enemies
Hidden tactics improvise my
Machivelli
Skills gettin' them kills ending weak
wills
Now I just signed your bills and still
We the rawest
regardless **** any other hating *** artist
We polish 'em
By a landslide makin' casket hides it's suicide
Tryna step to the Southside mafiaso
So
back back before you get ya wig pushed back
My raps more addictive than street crack
Giving the fiends an ear dose til they overdose
From playin' to close to the devil's playground
Though his son in law keep the lyrics raw
This is the styles of an immortal Texas outlaw
Letting off my lyrical shells makin'
hell
**** being carried by six I'd rather go be judged
by a panel of twelve well???
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 11:50 PM UTC
Caught an intellect from the beams of a flashin' tech
Skies open fools still hopin'
more corrupt than Kenneth Copeland yo I ain't
Jokin' words carefully spoken
From Houston to Oakland me ghettos we all kin
Born in sin so I was made for lusting put my trust in
My nine millimeter soon to beat cha if ya
Not fast with ya draw man this a southside gang
And We running thangs comin' back on track like a
boomerang
Haters love to sing chirpin' like early birds
I move the herds the black Sheppard
testing nerves
Check my lac banked on the curb hit a taste of the herb
To calm my brain cells light a fire see visions of Hell
I inhale free my mind from jail caught in this fairy tale
Thought this world was made for me but it ain't see?
The devil's laughing at me cuz I took the plea of insanity
Expose my mind through pens and papers
Towerin' empires past the
skyscrapers
traces of flowin' vapors
Disappear then reappear back on the atmosphere
But still i ain't here a ghost in a
shell
Pass the seven gates of chakras
cells
Gather my intel from my enemies that sail
Undercover lover to ya mother
mentally
See me I create energy powerful enough
To call out any bluff keep it rough
and rugged
So **** it since most chicken ya feathers
Gettin' plucked givin' up the what?
The funk that is
From Rosemary's kids made in
Hades
Check the tens bumpin' in the
Mercedes
I'm old school rock big jewels pinky
rings
Diamond bezels shining and still
blinding
Sip Tennessee whiskey out the glass cup
Flashback it's the return of King
Tut
Speak bad watch the raw clips keep ya mouth shut
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 9:31 PM UTC
When it's all going smooth, you're talking millions weekly
JC is on his way, to pick up bundles of illicit US drug money
Trouble is getting it back to Mexico and depositing in the banking secretly
There are members of the cartel, that have anywhere up to $300 million, pure honey.
Just sitting idle in their houses and they can't spend or use of it, not even a bit
Once you've gone into partnership with the cartels
You're only handling their money or changing it
You can't leave, they'll find you, kidnap your family and Fedex them back as parcels
They tell you "you have to do this"
If not, they will **** you and they don't ever miss.
Here is the money. What do I with it then?
I get 5 ID's and I'm going to the currency exchange to change the dollars again
You always have to give $200 to the cashier, which we put in here
She logs into the system and records the transactions, that appear
Just as though they were made by tourists
Then we pass them onto our cartel bosses, who are very near us.
The cash is now laundered and its origin erased
They can deposit their money, which is now clean into Pesos, that can't be traced
But this cash started its journey 3,000 miles away
One of the biggest narco distribution hubs in America, I'd say
The windy cities railway, port and interstate highway systems, are the best
Making it the ideal location, distributing Dope and Cash from across the Midwest.
Approximately 70% of the US population lives within a day's drive of Chicago
The Southside is where a lot of the business gets done, just like in Eldorado
Every deal is a drop in the bucket, that contributes to a mighty river of cash
Chicago has over 70 gangs, with up to 150,000 members, who are all smoking hash
Making it the largest and badest gang capital of the America’
Handling the retail, an army of local gangbangers we call the Drug Gangsta's.
Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 6:03 PM UTC
A young men who wonders how one man can be so strong, when he's just chilling and sitting on his gold throne, so many hearts to watch and heal how does he do it on his own "Is he real".. The beats in my chest bleed but when i feel i feel healed "Is he real".. The step that i take the ground shakes because im walking in faith "Is he real" .. My mind always feel safe when i pray im not a saint but "Is he real" .. The tears in my eyes fall like rain when i feel pain "Is he real' .. I'll call out his name in front of a whole gang with no shame 'Is he real" .. Bringing me out of a struggle when i almost got killed it was meant for me "Is he real" .. My life was on a plate like old grapes it wasn't safe "Is he real" .. Gave me another chance to become a better man i promise ill try to never sin again "Is he real" .. Anything is possible within the strength of God "Is he real" .. I died in my soul now im alive causing im living for God "Is he real" .. Look into the mirror and ask your self "Is he real" .. Im a walking testimony i shouldn't be alive so YES "He is real" .. I raise my hands and drop to my knees cause im thankful, he's done begging for me now im begging please for him to be my king "Is he real" .. The SouthSide of the gates will be my new home when i die so im still Trill, this not coming from me its coming from my OG so i can convince my peps that "HE IS REAL" .......
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 3:19 AM UTC
A man of twenty
Looks much younger
Waiting at the southside bus station in a
Suit and sneakers,
Hat strings
Dangling into his collar,
Anxious with his hands idle.
A man holding my bags and waist
On a subway train that
Shakes our bodies closer
Looks his age and older,
Holding us still.
Jun 12, 2010
Jun 12, 2010 at 4:27 PM UTC
Smoke trails up into the air
Sticky with the scent of
Vanilla and stale cigarettes
That stings my nose.
My shirt sticks to my back
and the sweat collects in my hair.
I swirl hot tea in my mouth
Vanilla creamer
Softening the bitterness of the tea.
My mind clouds with the words of
Aeschylus
Running in and around each other
I cannot make sense of any of it.
My head aches
from the smoke
and the stress
And I just want to stop.
Sep 22, 2011
Sep 22, 2011 at 12:47 AM UTC
I love the skyline of my city
in the day, brilliant and bright
at night, glowing with the stars.
Coming down from the mountain,
the lights engulf the cars.
The iron messenger welcomes me
pointing at the sky
above the lovely brick and metal
that make up this history.
Rich with history, indeed it is.
Chills run down my spine
to know the horrors these buildings have seen.
No rain can make up
for the tears that have fallen on these sidewalks.
No bricks can build up
what cruelty has broken down.
No memorial can drive away
the haunting absence felt in that great church.
But there is beauty in this
in that life still remains.
That someone lives to paint the lower walls on Southside
or protect the cobblestone beauty of Morris Avenue.
That we know now where we have been
enough to have come this far.
The skyline says these things to me
it whispers them at sundown.
"We are here, we live
and we live artfully, wonderfully, triumphantly."
The lights glow with pride
and the buildings shine with change.
I love the skyline of my city
because it brings hope.
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
When it's all going smooth, you're talking millions weekly
JC is on his way, to pick up bundles of illicit US drug money
Trouble is getting it back to Mexico and depositing it into a bank, secretly
There are members of the cartel, that have anywhere up to $300 million, pure honey.
Just sitting idle in their houses and they can't spend or use of it, not even a bit
Once you've gone into partnership with the cartels
You're only handling their money or changing it
You can't leave, they'll find you, kidnap your family and Fedex them back as parcels
They tell you "You have to do this"
If not, they will **** you and they don't ever miss.
Here is the money. What do I with it then?
I get 5 ID's and I'm going to the currency exchange, to change the dollars again
You always have to give $200 to the cashier, which we put in here
She logs into the system and records the transactions, that appear
Just as though they were made by tourists
Then we pass them onto our cartel bosses, who are very near us.
The cash is now laundered and its origin erased
They can deposit their money, which is now clean, into Pesos that can't be traced
But this cash started its journey 3,000 miles away
One of the biggest narco distribution hubs in America, I'd say
The windy cities railway, port and interstate highway systems, are the best
Making it the ideal location, distributing dope and cash from across the Midwest.
Approximately 70% of the US population, lives within a day's drive of Chicago
The Southside is where a lot of the business gets done, just like in El Dorado
Every deal is a drop in the bucket, that contributes to a mighty river of cash
Chicago has over 70 gangs, with up to 150,000 members, who are all smoking hash
Making it the largest and badest gang capital of America
Handling the retail, an army of local gangbangers, we call the Drug Gangsta’s.
Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019 at 6:44 PM UTC
Never have my eyes
Seen so much sadness.
Never have these eyes
Seen so deeply into
An enigma of finesse.
Your bones are of silver,
Destructive yet divine.
Your strength from a father,
Your safety aligned.
Your blood is of iron,
The veins are now rusted.
But your heart is still running,
With love now entrusted.
An infant of ignorance,
A child of sorrow.
The young man of dreams,
Your hopes for tomorrow.
A meeting of chance, the southside and diner
Such an innocent way,
For love to acquire.
But now the leaves have gone missing,
The trees, filled with death
Have blocked out the sunshine,
And pierced the pearls chest.
The young man of dreams
With the cracked pearl in heart,
Looks into the mountain
And screams in the dark.
But the fire never fades, and the heart, still pumping
Flows fast and determined,
To keep them from crumpling.
The pearl cries softly, trapped in her mind.
But strong hands protect her
And kind words breathe, “time”.
The white snowfall stops twice,
The sweet spring sings again,
And again.
The long summer rains for two.
But only once does the autumn wind,
Bring October to its end.
A young man of dreams,
With the pearl in his hands,
An inevitable season,
With freedoms demand.
Together, finale,
The pearl is released.
And over the mountain they kiss,
Forever in peace.
_
'08
Dec 1, 2010
Dec 1, 2010 at 9:13 PM UTC
We do not have to know the man who walks
three hours northside to southside of town
past green bluegrass lawns, over white
picket fences, around chains of
snapping curs and through
vegetable patches to his
home willed him by
his dead mama;
knowing him is not necessary,
helping him is our responsibility.
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 6:33 PM UTC
Chop n ***** it to bits
Just mix a little, then taste all da blenz
Dolby two sided cassette re-mix
Plastic record kinds, always my frendz
Trippin' like now, da way dat we do
Ya ***** nor crew just can't explain
Absolute phenomenal my man, whoa!
Leanin' on da switch, gave us instant fame
Doin' it on a regular, everyday
Even city folk can relate, in sum strange way
Slab kings rising from the dead
No motor, no nothin', nothin' but crew
Yellowstone candy, if dats wat ya fancy
Or black, bolly boyz, colored candy
Black sheriff riding ******** along da Southside
Giddy up, Giddy up, never you mind
Drinkin' drank, scissor or lean
Know dat we really can be mean
We in da ***** house, not in **** lockup
Get ya cups, then take a seat, backup
3'N da mornin' we ****
Sippin' on da syrup, smokin' on ya dope
Yo ***** Candy, lick it all up
Wat it does, is it gives da hood hope
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 3:41 AM UTC
waste of space is what they are told
little change is given with a scold
tattered clothes and a worn out face
regardless of age they all look cold
It doesn't make a difference
Some followed their dreams while others filled their veins with venom to spark the pain inside the seems
It doesn't make a difference
We all have choices
As we choose apartments
They choose park benches
As we choose which stiped tie
They choose a free flannel from a thrift store on the SouthSide
So get in their shoes
Though they may not have any
Lay your head on a cold brick wall
And beg for a penny
Watch every face pass by like a ghost
Like the ones that haunt you in your sleep
As your body tries to sink into the street
Just try to feel bold
And then maybe think to ask next time
What's it like out here alone in the cold?
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 4:04 AM UTC
Yeah ,
you shiver in the dark
Your shadow hugs you tight
As in the meantime
You get a colored drink
In a crowded bar
Where you are nobody
Nobody is your name
The band is Dixie
line 'em up and down
Four time and rhyme
Loud !Loud ! Loud !
The pixies ply
you for their drinks
Sluring filthy things
You cain't help but crack a smile
There are
white breasted women
stepping up to the microphone
Sing ! Sing ! Sing !
The hour is getting late
Looking for a mate
So you slip off
a golden ring
Competition is ways and mean
Way down on southside
When they play under the lights
On Friday nights
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 10:46 PM UTC
I might have been a yeah mate yeah kid when I was young
I visited oldies and I didn’t hang
With many cool people back then I might have been a nerd back then I liked programming computer games and I did a lot of different things
I might have been a tad different to the others but deep
Down I thought that made me cool
I mucked with my friends at school and I found it hard to muck with bullies and I liked to much with my family like playing games and watching television
And I performed in school plays
And learnt to sing songs like songs that were pretty much in the hippy age I remember mucking around at the mall being cool and I was hearing voices, well I think they were of them treating me like a nerdy yeah mate yeah kid just because I watched television with my mates and family I played basketball with my friend at the Southside basketball stadium abs had a drink afterwards I thought that was cool and I played bingo with my grandmother and my friends and even if it is an oldie thing
I was probably a bit of a geek
I might have been a bit shy at family parties where I just played cricket with dice when others were enjoying themselves and I went to concerts like from red tape and ac/dc and Bryan Adams and def Leopard and the pigs in Merimbula but I had a few social issues where I must be the coolest one there and I was I think and I teased my father sometimes but it didn’t get me far, you see I might have been a geek I might have been a nerd I might have been a yeah mate yeah kid, but I thought I was pretty cool, because I watch the footy afl and nrl and cricket and baseball and soccer and basketball I like to celebrate Christmas even if I am not a Christian, no, I am a Buddhist and I feel different from the world but it ain’t my intention though, I just believe in coming back after you die, rather than this stupid heaven bull **** and
I know they believe in nirvana and I know what goes on up there cause you can go there in dreams
I might be a geek nerd or yeah mate yeah kid, but I am a writer artist and YouTube presenter
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 6:17 AM UTC
No one ever told me getting high outta my mind till 9 meant that I wasn’t acting fine
Numbing out the pain I can’t remember my name or the numbers we gave
Addicted to the PTSD and the tests you had me take
Leave me in this lost lake and the dreams I believed weren’t fake
I come down for something to make
Fix my hunger with some left overs or some cake
The bottle whispers my name and the percentages got me going insane
Knowing that 14% won’t get you off my brain
Coming at me like a tidal wave
I thought you had me saved
Hallucinating about you rolling up
Getting high on WA-20 and playing the best cuts
I feel so alone so I pull out my iPhone and text:
Purple heart emoji
You don't know me
You never knew me
I was manic me
Did you fall in love with me?
Backspace
Texting hearts and smiley ****
They're for my crew
And for the love I thought I had with you
Should I drive to the Southside, get lit n both with you?
Should I bring this crew?
Tripping all over you
Its been a minute since we kicked it
so I take another hit and
reminiscing about that spliff and
**** it so you’re not missed and
Stoney
Let’s play some Post Maloney and get a little toasty
Low-key coasting until we finish that Gold Leaf
Corny as **** but this is how my mind gets stuck
Wasted Times is what I’m trying to be good at
But can I waste that time with you?
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 2:54 AM UTC