"swayer" poems
the sweetest thing - come over
got some wind to cool it down
i’ll have what you’re having, the sweetest thing.
swayer keep swayin’/lover keep loving’/player you player, don’t keep playin’.
the sweetest thing - come over
got some chill to calm you down
you’ll have what i’m giving, the sweetest thing.
swayer keep swayin’/lover keep lovin’/player you player, stop playin’ me.
the sweetest thing - come over
got some game to wear you down
we’ll get what we’re wantin’, the sweetest thing.
the sweetest thing, keep swain’
the sweetest thing, keep loving’
the sweetest thing, keep playin’, keep playin’
get nothin’
~rachael hays 17A15
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
the less money I make,
the more I give away...
need to get cured,
need me some cure,
to keep my money in
my Persian silk sow purse,
so when enfeebled,
can pay a nurse to
wipe my drooling chin
need me some
curmudgeon herbs
to get rid of this
happy insanity
cure this ****** mudge,
from giving away his green fudge,
so when doing his
sleepy-eyed sums,
the tallying up,
the counting down
did he qualify,
as a good ole one,
his conscience
busy unconsciously,
anudging, adjudging,
to see if the boyo can
sleep better this night.
So when he meets
the maker,
He won't say
hey faker,
but fakir,
magic maker,
dervish swayer
and
*"you my kind of poet,
let's make us some
smiling mischievous trouble,
give away whatever it takes,
love potions number nine,
winning lottery tickets
for everyone,
you and me,
scheming schematic
crazy man poet and god,
to make it happy-en."*
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC