Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nolan Higgins Jul 2016
And all your heros are gone,
but you refuse to take off the mask.

A loudmouth, a capitalist,
with greasy hair and a golden toothpick,
he is your enemy
he is your oppressor and
he sits upon a throne of coal and blood
with armed security
and a nation built for him,
to protect him and his money,
a police state, pat downs on the corner,
murdered in the street,
your daughters gotta eat.

He grows fatter and fatter still,
he loves complacency,
he loves contentment,
he invests heavily in both.

He knows we are strong,
he knows we are many,
he knows he must divide us to win,
he knows we're his greatest weapon,
so he created Fox News,
he created TMZ,
stealthily,
we didn't even notice,
he created NPR and KVIE,
he gave them masks that look like ours.
They look poor,
they look starved,
they look like us, but they have a different master.

Our master is the earth,
our master is our coworker, our neighbor, our mailman,
our dishwashers, our bus drivers, our minimart clerks.

Our masters are not the TV,
our masters are not the radio,
our masters are not the New York Times,
they are not National Geographic,
they are not BP,
they are not our principals, our administrators,
our policemen, our CEOs, our investors, our bankers,
our insurance providers,
these people hate us,
they hate us because they can't squeeze blood from a stone,
and
the rivers are running dry,
the factories are standing still,
the people, our masters and our friends,
they're in the streets,
they're shouting "BLACK LIVES MATTER"
they're shouting "NO JUSTICE NO PEACE"
"NO MORE WAR FOR OIL"
"**** THE POLICE"
"DOWN WITH THE 1%"

and soon
and soon,
The False Gods will grow so fat
and we'll have nothing left to eat but them,
and on that day we'll sit down to dine
and it won't be civilized and it won't be pretty,
their blood, our blood, will feed the rivers and their flesh will feed our hungry children and their money will burn and warm our chilled bones but we can't wait,
we can't wait for this to happen because everyday they grow stronger,
we grow weaker and the river becomes dryer.

The Bourgeois is our enemy,
they say 'All Lives Matter'
they say 'Work Hard and Your Dreams Will Come True'

BUT THEY LIE
If I had a blog what would it be ?

Would I blog about twitting?
Tweet about texting?
Text about bloging?

Will I sip on an organic double frappuccino?
Will I miss MJ?
Will I have a tea cup Chihuahua?
Will I hate the hills?
Will I be dealing with   bulimia?
Watching TMZ?
Liveing green?
Will my iPhone my big sunglasses be in my   louis vuitton handbag?
Will all this be something to talk about?
Will it still be "in"?
Or will outher things that I hate take it's place?

Will my blog be overrated?
Or will only old ppl like it?

Or will it be, anti-social anti-fashion
I hate everything even myself
self mutalating artsie fartsie
wannabe rabel who are also AS over rated

whatever...

((If I wred this blog, I'd hate it))
I wrot this 2008, never thoght I'd post it anywhere
Alessander Jun 2015
A7
I told them,  “I don’t feel sorry for Robin Williams.
He lived it. Coke-fueled, bearded trickster of ******.
Well traveled and well versed, raging into worlds
Physical and ephemeral, like a ghostly bull
Goring mortals to unfeel the estoques
Sunk deep into his vital corpse.”

I had a friend who blew his brains out
While his parents were watching tv in the living room
And another who rented a room at the Marriott
Then hung himself off the shower-rod

Both early 20s
You won’t see them on the big screen
Or hear their witty banter on interviews
Chic celebs won’t eulogize them
On “Extra”, “TMZ”,  or “Access Hollywood”
No 2 minute montages
At award shows, while tuxes and gowns float
Clapping in ovation behind the shimmering façade
Of golden statues

They got a few lines in an obituary, in A7
Those who knew them will speak in hushed euphemisms
No one daring to whisper “suicide”
As if it’s the ****** Mary of deaths
Like walking under a ladder, or breaking a mirror
The mirror containing, like smoke, the future
The jagged shards reflecting moonlight faintly

I love them all the same
estoques: the swords ****** into bulls
Sitting in a run down bar
Toasting Christmas' once again
Making New Years Resolutions
That in eight days I'll amend
Watching Christmas Specials
On what happened this past year
All the while waiting
For another glass of beer

Commercials for electronic this
and battery powered that
Pill that **** your acne
Machines that **** your fat
Little plastic whatzit whos
That vibrate and make noise
Not one **** ad of one **** thing
For Christmas...girls and boys

Where did Christmas go to?
When did Christmas die?
When did Amazon take over?
Telling us just the things to buy
Where is Christmas spirit?
In a movie or a play?
At an office Christmas party?
It's all saved for Boxing Day

The beer arrives, we look about
The bar is filling fast
Most talking of the better days
The days of Christmas past
People on the tv set
On that **** show TMZ
Reality folks, who don't know real
At least not like you and me

I harken back to days of yore
When Christmas was so real
When there'd be fifteen aunts and uncles
At our house for a meal
When charity was normal
Cynics..few and far between
When Christmas trees dropped needles
And all had a slight lean

Where did Christmas go to?
When did Christmas die?
When did Amazon take over?
Telling us just the things to buy
Where is Christmas spirit?
In a movie or a play?
At an office Christmas party?
It's all saved for Boxing Day

It's getting on for closing time
It's time to get on home
Where, I am not sure of
It's nice...I'll think I'll roam
A bench, perhaps, inside the park
I think I'll be all right
I'll pick one near a walkway
By a nice and shiny light

Oh, most of us are homeless
We hit the missions for our meals
We drink some down at this old bar
We just like the way it feels
We spend Christmas Day together
Our extended family grows each year
But, before I go and find a bench
I think I'll throw back one last beer

Merry Christmas
Amanda Stoddard Jul 2015
Great fades to gray
where commonplace turns to decay
where the abnormal becomes negatively neurological
which leads to the ingestion of government sector sedatives
and we wonder why segregation of brain and mind is prominent
promises never kept and mind that never gets better
but before we fix the broken we must make you broke.
Objects in the mirror to fit society's standards
E news, TMZ, fox- all the new cancer.
Throw your money at it
make it go away
and watch in awe as the auction of your autonomy accelerates-
your mind is money to the highest bidder
and they don't budge when they watch your wallet quiver.
Quiet in the courtroom-
little Kyle's got a drug charge
searched his car without consent
convict at the age of sixteen
which is sickening to see.
Kyle was just depressed and needed a little THC
the only thing that would help him with social anxiety
and now he's facing a charge for not taking the meds
marijuana manipulation of the municipals
and now little kyle won't be able to go to a good school
18 the record will be swiped clean
but the debt of the courtroom creeps into his credit.
Society's white lies will tell you you'll be fine
debt from the courtroom turn to slanging dope-
dealing with depression while dealing in possession
pulled over, twice moreover propaganda's progression.
They feed us the same lies we go out of our way to buy-
news channels, channeling bias views for more views
sitting idly by as our lives pass through
changing channels as we become the chattel
slaves to our own brain waves from the manipulation
we love to bow down to this free nation
led by puppets- controlled by intimidation tactics.  
It's just backwards, the backbone of the nation doesn't have one
Columbine happened because little Kyle could get a gun, run-
repeat until it's done, dictating your discrimination
it's fun until everyone has to run away from the shooter.
Bangs heard throughout the world
talk of how his head was on backwards smoking on these backwoods
But he was off the marijuana and on the medicine-
FDA approved turned into a bullet to the head.
BANG.
Sinister structure of society-
**** america why did you have to lie to me.
the title spells out kyle if you didn't catch that.
If my eyes are windows,
i'd prefer them latched shut,
not with sleep, or drunkenness,
but with the hopes of,
and i'm not being cynical,
that when i open them,
i won't be surrounded by the smog,
the **** storm, the 21st century
excuse for a culture,
provided to you by use of TMZ,
MTV, BET, any acronym,
but behind those eyes,
storm windowed, bunkered,
rests a mind that knows only doors,
to open and close as it sees fit,
allowing whatever it pleases to pass,
but not without judgement,
unlike those unruly eyes,
allowing light to shine through,
and darkness to permeate.
Pains.
Cole Hood May 2016
How come in a world so connected we feel so isolated and disconnected?
I can view maps of China in barley five seconds but we feel uncomfortable trying to learn a lesson.
So lets seek answers and ask the question,
I ask again, how come in a world full of connection you can feel so isolated, depressed and without protection?

Is it our computers and TV screens?
The filters on instagram making everything clean?
Or is it our materialism causing death to our kindness, hopes, and dreams?

What happened to writing, reading, and talking?
Now its DM's, snap chats and secretly gawking.
Kids are gaming and don't get vaccines, more focussed with what's on TMZ, Facebook and memes.

Even with music there are no records, only singles.
In love you don't fall any more, you just mingle.
They would rather have a one night memory and let it pass instead of taking every moment into and album and showing what can last.
No one feeling at home we constantly wander, while many parents don't truly know their own sons and daughters.

What is the point of gaining followers if you don't have a real life?
We are in control of the buck of the knife, but we only cut away the things of emotion in life?
*** can be on the front page but don't talk of depression.
Celebrities are more respected than politicians yet we want their lessons?
We use to idolize Churchill, Mackenzie and Kennedy.
Now its Rhianna, Beyonce, and Yeezy?
Are you kidding me?

How come in a world of connections we have a lack of protection?
In a world of detection we break down and divide into sections?
We all speak of being good and holy but did we actually try or just pretend to learn the lesson?
How come we can talk and meet people all day without leaving our home, but at the end of the day a lot of us still feel alone?
Confusion on humanity and how out of touch we are with each other. The difference between our generation and the ones that came before is and how we effect our own perceptions. Social media actually causing us to loose true friends for cyber popularity.
Kado MacMurphy Apr 2017
actuated lust im dangerous
nobody in space time knows what we're doing
its taboo darling
sweet suckling, unbuckling
she and him and me and her
******* over over
again
forget the stacks and ask no questions
live like ya gone
agonal, in the moment
detached retina against the glass
and lights appear to be on fire
easy comin as she does it
rollin under juicy thunder
the salts of my composure
leakin from my porous structures
leaving from me like a rock
that is my physical elixir
tape it on the imagr
hashtag @ lucifer
on tube hollerin at my girl
i want to trend just like zelda
hit ya with a face melta
blow up on their youtube
for seven seasons off the bat
and when im at the party
all the girlies will sit on my,
eh, it isnt what i live for like tools on MTV
give me sunshine to recondition your condition on BET
i contracted some system disease from way too much TMZ
and my condition is conditioned by youtube conspiracy
i cant relate i am afraid
of what is hiding up my sleeves
i hit the brains
and bust the **** off this run away train called
the radio whenever the news of the day is some ******* **** or some ferrari driving ***** that has her own ****** up slave drama telivision series.
we are so angry
inside computers inside of us inside
a web of statistic dimentia
and **** yourself if you ask
"der, i dunno. what is normal"
you *******.
Cedric McClester Feb 2019
By: Cedric McClester

When first he practiced to deceive
He thought for surel he’d be believed
Which only shows you how naïve
He had to be just to conceive
Being mugged at 2am
In cold Chicago by two men
Who put a rope around his neck
Which made his tale a tad suspect

After launching homophobic slurs
And for good measure it then occurs
To say they wore a MAGA hat
After throwing bleach on him like that
Turns out they were Nigerian
Both of whom had worked with him
Hired just to play that role
But they would not be his *******

Controversy often pays
Turns out he wanted a salary raise
When disparaging remarks about gays
Didn’t grab their attention, no one was phased
He thought it’s time to launch Plan B
Which he hoped would get their sympathy
But at the time, little did he know
To what length the Chicago Police would go

So now the mystery has unraveled
It was a bumpy road the actor travelled
Which often happens to those who dabble
In deceit and psychobabble
Now look at him see what he got
His eight-by-ten is a mugshot
And now I think he can plainly see
How hard it is to fool TMZ













Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019.  All rights reserved.
TRUMP SMELLS B.O.


TRUMP SMELLS B.O.

BUST UP THE BEAT TO INTRODUCE IT'S TEMPO

GOT ME PLACES TO GO

SILENCE IS GOLDEN GOT BLOOD THAT"S UNFOLDING

SITS IN HIS IVORY TOWER ENGAGED IN THE WALL WHILE HE SITS IN HIS IVORY TOWER

TRUMP SMELLS B.O.

I know years to know used to being with your history

eager long to achieve

needs to take a nice hot shower

going down to the wire...,

got choices with the most chances highway glances

glad he switch his Depends tyed beauty within,

another one bites the dust with the whole world in a rush

doing cart wheels out in the mood a sought of time to renew

Trump Smells B.O. which way should we go ?

some are in a trance

a given chance at any romance

Pac sought love through concrete

on again out again cry for relief

Can We Talk ?

hit a sister mister said to high ******,

SONG REMAINS THE SAME SOUGHT EVEN SHADE

LOVE FAXED IN WHERE IT IS WE DEPEND

YOU GOT TO KNOW WHERE YOU ARE iNSTEAD YOU HIDE LIKE ROSANNE BARR

NEEDS TO STOP BY INSTEAD OF GETTING HIGH

VAPE

with heightened fresh tender moments like these drift away to the sea...

suffering long in an empty room my pain drifts in illusive rights become pure

day by day we hear the sound of a lonely owl out in desperation my stomach leaks

cheer up good cousin as the thoughts simmer again back from beyond cracking,

this is enough of a good spot gross way back sat the owl in fact through radio

Trump Smells B.O. button down the captors embrace the hellos

Trump Smells B.O.

I'm bust out the beat to increase the tempo...,

Silently in the dreams eating delicious ice cream,

I maybe a man of all mans,

P.U.

in the port of storm we call commercial radiating plugged in seperation,

fine darling pillars the growth of here after old man sit by the log cabin

at night he would take a *** outside his window taking heed to nature's dream

the owl would suddenly draw empty nothing but framed silence in togetherness

our cameras freshly made eating potato dumplings...

I aim human fresh under my wings,

look to the sun to help you get by...




Trump's Comb Over
Written by: Mario Vitale



well it's a one for the money
two for the show
the answer my friend is blowing in the wind
so is Trump's comb over

who tucks Mr. president into bed
do the not realize he has a big head
who takes care of his hair
caged fury

in such a hurry
the magic is in the pudding
does he know what hell he his doing
he jumps through loop holes looking through peep holes

TMZ catches his rug by disguise
one word to the wise
get a transplant my friend
we can see your head with the magical wave

oh act your age
Mr. Trump what ****
you have taken us by surprise
doesn't anybody realize



What **** Trump
Written by: Mario Vitale


you sit in your ivory tower
why should I even bother
your the man who said your fire
had a book art of the deal
your spinning wheel is getting to fast
lay up on the gas many in North Korea will be wearing a face mask
what **** Trump knocking at your door
are you in the theatre of the insane
lest I refrain another opened door
check this as a young child you were already loaded
your inner soul imploded
through the duration of time you learned how to rhyme
kind of a Robin Hood but you wouldn't share with the poor
you got hooked on Twitter & your hommie's none better
but always a gentleman never given the *******
still many of us hate your guts
still got lots to prove
others refrain just not in a good mood
you may have to do a make over
with your hair as in a comb over
yet you try to stand tall while working on this great wall
we maybe in store of a shot gun wedding
what are you kidding
what **** Trump maybe coming to a theatre near you
has he bitten off far more then he could chew
Ivanka still has a voice with a choice
try to pull things together if you try
we we're out busy living the lie
the lie that says I am what I do
still got to mend your ways
instead of getting lost in some purple haze
you & Pence look like the Blues Brother Reunion
are you sure you know what the hell your doing ?
perhaps you got junk in your trunk what **** Trump ?



A Letter To Trump


you don't know me & that's good
is your choice of water Fiji now
going to speak to you man to man
Mr. Trump do you really understand
when you took the oath of all that was planned
did you ever think about me a lone poet man of society
as you sit there in your in ivory tower filled with power
did it ever cross your mind that not everybody is doing fine
sure there's no gas shortages anymore and no Studio 54
yet what my inner heart beats for is a common courtesy call
remember when you were young playing with the bat and ball
some folks claim that your just a know it all
but here am i sir giving you the benefit of the doubt while some people just ***** and pout
sure you like Twitter and some of MTV but one one heart felt plea
is that we all live out our days in sweet harmony
while your working on that wall did you forget to give Pink Floyd a call
I no save your money for your momma and try to forget about Obama
but what are you promising us is it in God we trust
crushed beneath the seams do you just seek out evil means
that's the beauty of this country we can both agree to disagree


where does the working man now stand
how shall we salute the flag all mad
building bridges make sense of all of this as if life is one big test
So Mr. Trump what you have up your sleeve are you going to help people in great need
The world is watching and i'm not lying yet may have fish for frying
so without further a dew some days you must not a single clue
maybe going through the motions trying to figure out next of what to do
can we meet together on some significant level
these are questions i often ponder perhaps its some heavenly call from up yonder
but we as Americans need to know the full story
not taking any more *** shot from TMZ
try if you will to get that big kid out of North Korea
perhaps we should look to our past to tell us of our future
now you hold the keys to my future so both polite and kind
for i'm just one lone beggar trying to tell another where to get some bread
tonight before you lay your Trump head down let's learn from Rodney King, "Can't we all just get along"?
take it from me its best to stay with the devil you know then to go with the devil you don't.
perhaps you can't even cope when your having a fight with that soap on the rope.
lastly from me to you what's knew ?

P.S. Return To Sender
well it's a one for the money
two for the show
the answer my friend is blowing in the wind
so is Trump's comb over

who tucks Mr. president into bed
do the not realize he has a big head
who takes care of his hair
caged fury

in such a hurry
the magic is in the pudding
does he know what hell he his doing
he jumps through loop holes looking through peep holes

TMZ catches his rug by disguise
one word to the wise
get a transplant my friend
we can see your head with the magical wave

oh act your age
Mr. Trump what ****
you have taken us by surprise
doesn't anybody realize
BUST UP THE BEAT TO INTRODUCE IT'S TEMPO

GOT ME PLACES TO GO

SILENCE IS GOLDEN GOT BLOOD THAT"S UNFOLDING

SITS IN HIS IVORY TOWER ENGAGED IN THE WALL WHILE HE SITS IN HIS IVORY TOWER

TRUMP SMELLS B.O.

I know years to know used to being with your history

eager long to achieve

needs to take a nice hot shower

going down to the wire...,

got choices with the most chances highway glances

glad he switch his Depends tyed beauty within,

another one bites the dust with the whole world in a rush

doing cart wheels out in the mood a sought of time to renew

Trump Smells B.O. which way should we go ?

some are in a trance

a given chance at any romance

Pac sought love through concrete

on again out again cry for relief

Can We Talk ?

hit a sister mister said to high ******,

SONG REMAINS THE SAME SOUGHT EVEN SHADE

LOVE FAXED IN WHERE IT IS WE DEPEND

YOU GOT TO KNOW WHERE YOU ARE iNSTEAD YOU HIDE LIKE ROSANNE BARR

NEEDS TO STOP BY INSTEAD OF GETTING HIGH

VAPE

with heightened fresh tender moments like these drift away to the sea...

suffering long in an empty room my pain drifts in illusive rights become pure

day by day we hear the sound of a lonely owl out in desperation my stomach leaks

cheer up good cousin as the thoughts simmer again back from beyond cracking,

this is enough of a good spot gross way back sat the owl in fact through radio

Trump Smells B.O. button down the captors embrace the hellos

Trump Smells B.O.

I'm bust out the beat to increase the tempo...,

Silently in the dreams eating delicious ice cream,

I maybe a man of all mans,

P.U.

in the port of storm we call commercial radiating plugged in seperation,

fine darling pillars the growth of here after old man sit by the log cabin

at night he would take a *** outside his window taking heed to nature's dream

the owl would suddenly draw empty nothing but framed silence in togetherness

our cameras freshly made eating potato dumplings...

I aim human fresh under my wings,

look to the sun to help you get by...




Trump's Comb Over
Written by: Mario Vitale



well it's a one for the money
two for the show
the answer my friend is blowing in the wind
so is Trump's comb over

who tucks Mr. president into bed
do the not realize he has a big head
who takes care of his hair
caged fury

in such a hurry
the magic is in the pudding
does he know what hell he his doing
he jumps through loop holes looking through peep holes

TMZ catches his rug by disguise
one word to the wise
get a transplant my friend
we can see your head with the magical wave

oh act your age
Mr. Trump what ****
you have taken us by surprise
doesn't anybody realize



What **** Trump
Written by: Mario Vitale


you sit in your ivory tower
why should I even bother
your the man who said your fire
had a book art of the deal
your spinning wheel is getting to fast
lay up on the gas many in North Korea will be wearing a face mask
what **** Trump knocking at your door
are you in the theatre of the insane
lest I refrain another opened door
check this as a young child you were already loaded
your inner soul imploded
through the duration of time you learned how to rhyme
kind of a Robin Hood but you wouldn't share with the poor
you got hooked on Twitter & your hommie's none better
but always a gentleman never given the *******
still many of us hate your guts
still got lots to prove
others refrain just not in a good mood
you may have to do a make over
with your hair as in a comb over
yet you try to stand tall while working on this great wall
we maybe in store of a shot gun wedding
what are you kidding
what **** Trump maybe coming to a theatre near you
has he bitten off far more then he could chew
Ivanka still has a voice with a choice
try to pull things together if you try
we we're out busy living the lie
the lie that says I am what I do
still got to mend your ways
instead of getting lost in some purple haze
you & Pence look like the Blues Brother Reunion
are you sure you know what the hell your doing ?
perhaps you got junk in your trunk what **** Trump ?



A Letter To Trump


you don't know me & that's good
is your choice of water Fiji now
going to speak to you man to man
Mr. Trump do you really understand
when you took the oath of all that was planned
did you ever think about me a lone poet man of society
as you sit there in your in ivory tower filled with power
did it ever cross your mind that not everybody is doing fine
sure there's no gas shortages anymore and no Studio 54
yet what my inner heart beats for is a common courtesy call
remember when you were young playing with the bat and ball
some folks claim that your just a know it all
but here am i sir giving you the benefit of the doubt while some people just  and pout
sure you like Twitter and some of MTV but one one heart felt plea
is that we all live out our days in sweet harmony
while your working on that wall did you forget to give Pink Floyd a call
I no save your money for your momma and try to forget about Obama
but what are you promising us is it in God we trust
crushed beneath the seams do you just seek out evil means
that's the beauty of this country we can both agree to disagree


where does the working man now stand
how shall we salute the flag all mad
building bridges make sense of all of this as if life is one big test
So Mr. Trump what you have up your sleeve are you going to help people in great need
The world is watching and i'm not lying yet may have fish for frying
so without further a dew some days you must not a single clue
maybe going through the motions trying to figure out next of what to do
can we meet together on some significant level
these are questions i often ponder perhaps its some heavenly call from up yonder
but we as Americans need to know the full story
not taking any more *** shot from TMZ
try if you will to get that big kid out of North Korea
perhaps we should look to our past to tell us of our future
now you hold the keys to my future so both polite and kind
for i'm just one lone beggar trying to tell another where to get some bread
tonight before you lay your Trump head down let's learn from Rodney King, "Can't we all just get along"?
take it from me its best to stay with the devil you know then to go with the devil you don't.
perhaps you can't even cope when your having a fight with that soap on the rope.
lastly from me to you what's knew ?

P.S. Return To Sender

Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2020
Cedric McClester Feb 2019
By: Cedric McClester

Did the brother lie
To make you and i
Buy his alibi
The question then, is why?
Was he seeking sympathy
From fans like you and me?
We’ll have to wait and see
What the truth will be

If it was a staged fight
The truth will come to light
Cuz’ wrong is clear from right
Just like day from night
I hope not for his sake
See the woken are awake
But don’t know what to make
If the claim turns out half baked

Perhaps he’ll be believed
By the people he deceived
Who may well be aggrieved
If they find they were naïve
Listening to his telling
His account was so compelling
Which had some of us yelling
Whoever did it was a felon

We know TMZ talks
And sometimes even shocks
By picking apart the locks
Even though the brother balks
He can deny to his death
When nothing else is left
And he’s taking his last breath
That a lie is like a theft


Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019.  All rights reserved.
Middle Class Dec 2020
misplaced, my intentions lay
a muddled sultry mess with the essence of my soul tied on
knotted and forlorn
nestled like bungee cords in the back of a suburban
the countless ambitions and insurmountable lows
they don’t treat me with focus
they cling and sink and surface in little moments
they fog my glasses and leave me empty, in a stupor
walking through any alleyway that beckons my name

it’s foreign to be misaligned with your conscious projection
someone put this out of sync
something left me out of frame
i’m pouring substance to smudge the scrawlings of a hallowed obsession
my autocratic, autobiographical TMZ
a drink to dull the sharpness of my critiques

a little remedy to sleep
John Dewberry May 2019
Leave me out of the spotlight
Make me a shadow
I’m more than ready
To be a footnote

So much fear
Musics an outlet
If I were to blow up
I’d be ousted

Conversations
Interviews
TMZ, tainted news
Leave me out
Of the public eye
I don’t wanna be famous

I hope this song goes
To the top
My message will be heard
I’ll sign a million autographs
Be a connection in social media
Make us trend
I’ll be your friend
Just let it end there

I don’t wanna be famous
I don’t wanna be famous
I don’t wanna be famous
I don’t wanna be famous

I’m a humble *******
Not an insolent *******
I don’t follow your trends
I’m not looking to make friends
Or amends
Anything I say can
Be taken however
By whoever

But lest you forget
That these are merely words
And this is music
Open to interpretation
Around the nation
Across radio stations
I’m telling you
I won’t do a *******
Interview

I don’t wanna be famous
I don’t wanna be famous
I don’t wanna be famous
I don’t wanna be famous
Butch Decatoria May 2020
Break time smokers digging for gold
Oblivious finger flicks a winning nugget
Outside, from the nose, flung without direction
Gasps gaggles of gossip girls unamused
Emptying casinos fearful of mucous, or swine flu.
Reality’s TMZ, latex gloves and masked celebrities say
Stay at home, with your cigarettes and boogers in ashtrays.
You read it.
But did I say that.
You heard it.
But did I speak it.
Or like many you're going by innuendoes.

If in person?
Or around me than you can speak upon me.
Because you have a personal perspective.
Forget those stories reported by TMZ.
Just ask me.

I might tell it.
Then again, I might not.
Cause even the truth deserves to be kept by me.

— The End —