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"turntables" poems
My dear summers dream was to the taste cream Pass me the triple beam the microphone fiend Back on the scene simplicity is your complexity So amazingly like grace I be rockin' the place Like we Studio 54 shut down the doors Once the bubbly pours and the **** adores Ya mental **** ya sentimentals and these new aged millennials They too satirical I make miracles flow potholes Creatin' mass mayhem your an inconvenience Cuz of ya hesitance my presence is known Without even being shown paragraphs of stone Hard to crack waxing tracks like a shark attack Felonious acts we never back down Til my soul drown in the core of the earth Royalties since birth new my worth they tried to mirth At my pain tryna change the game cuz all these cowards Saying the same thang got dang got dang Time to chess box like Wu Tang leavin' a stain On ya reign no tears though I'll be on solo Rippin' up instrumentals ya know how we do so...yeahhh From the Sunny to bees that make the honey Sticky icky like my spliffs be call me smokey Puttin' fire to mother natures forests check the creases I unleashes Rap game mafiaso so so better back back Or else get dropped lika Domino so here we go! Here we go! With the ghetto jams love girls with the derriere's of Pam Got **** once again it's time to slam Mics harder than Shawn Kemp ya flows shrimp That's why ya girl calls me Mr **** no limp Slick as Rick hello young world tilt and a whirl Catch the swirl of Qatar Pearls on the neck of ya girl Suckas better know I'm coming with a blow Harder than Bowe combined with a super glow black Saiyan raps slayin' turntables layin' So I can get wicked lyrics Pickett like Wilson Flows in unison formation of words Herds a violent surge feel the purge We high rising no disguisin' knockin' out Suckas who jivin' ain't none survivin' ?
0
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 11:09 PM UTC
Ru7hl355_Gangsta
Even Though Why We Do Wrong??
My dear summers dream was to the taste cream Pass me the triple beam the microphone fiend Back on the scene simplicity is your complexity So amazingly like grace I be rockin' the place Like we Studio 54 shut down the doors Once the bubbly pours and the **** adores Ya mental **** ya sentimentals and these new aged millennials They too satirical I make miracles flow potholes Creatin' mass mayhem your an inconvenience Cuz of ya hesitance my presence is known Without even being shown paragraphs of stone Hard to crack waxing tracks like a shark attack Felonious acts we never back down Til my soul drown in the core of the earth Royalties since birth new my worth they tried to mirth At my pain tryna change the game cuz all these cowards Saying the same thang got dang got dang Time to chess box like Wu Tang leavin' a stain On ya reign no tears though I'll be on solo Rippin' up instrumentals ya know how we do so...yeahhh From the Sunny to bees that make the honey Sticky icky like my spliffs be call me smokey Puttin' fire to mother natures forests check the creases I unleashes Rap game mafiaso so so better back back Or else get dropped lika Domino so here we go! Here we go! With the ghetto jams love girls with the derriere's of Pam Got **** once again it's time to slam Mics harder than Shawn Kemp ya flows shrimp That's why ya girl calls me Mr **** no limp Slick as Rick hello young world tilt and a whirl Catch the swirl of Qatar Pearls on the neck of ya girl Suckas better know I'm coming with a blow Harder than Bowe combined with a super glow black Saiyan raps slayin' turntables layin' So I can get wicked lyrics Pickett like Wilson Flows in unison formation of words Herds a violent surge feel the purge We high rising no disguisin' knockin' out Suckas who jivin' ain't none survivin' ?
Continue reading...
44
There's a crowd of pitch black unicorns at a Chelsea Wolfe's concert. A crowd of pitch black unicorns moving their onyx hooves and horns at the rhythm of drones dressed in electric guitars. An acoustic break follows. The vibrations of the music and dancing cause purple flowers to grow, purple flowers weaned on blood and sticky black tar. There's a crowd of unicorns dancing at a Chelsea Wolfe's concert feeding on ladybirds crisps and dragonflies sticks, that once home will play vinyls on mystic turntables of fire. The purple flowers grow into vines and try to smother the unicorns to prevent them from listening to bloodred-dyed vinyls on mystic turntables of fire. Meanwhile in the corner of a museum S. Teresa of Avila's statue animates by itself, walks to the window and throwing itself crumbles into a thousand of pieces of marble. The seventh seal has not been opened yet but the ninth the eleventh and the seventeenth exploded already, cracked their own wax and started spreading tongues of flames and water to decimate humanity. A woman dressed in a fifteenth century scarlet outfit leads the pitch black unicorns to salvation creating a safe haven for them in Manchester and another one in California. They have in the meantime gone bonkers and started feeding on each other. Equine teeth suddenly grow carnivorous jaws. Nothing is left in the two oasis apart from a puddle of blood and a pavement of corpses. It's 7 a.m. Chelsea has not yet finished her concert and her music blossoms around played by the mystic turntables of fire. That which remaineth is pitch black light and the breath of aeons lingering here and beyond and nowhere.
0
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 8:33 PM UTC
NeptunianPoetryMaker
Mystic Turntables of Fire
There's a crowd of pitch black unicorns at a Chelsea Wolfe's concert. A crowd of pitch black unicorns moving their onyx hooves and horns at the rhythm of drones dressed in electric guitars. An acoustic break follows. The vibrations of the music and dancing cause purple flowers to grow, purple flowers weaned on blood and sticky black tar. There's a crowd of unicorns dancing at a Chelsea Wolfe's concert feeding on ladybirds crisps and dragonflies sticks, that once home will play vinyls on mystic turntables of fire. The purple flowers grow into vines and try to smother the unicorns to prevent them from listening to bloodred-dyed vinyls on mystic turntables of fire. Meanwhile in the corner of a museum S. Teresa of Avila's statue animates by itself, walks to the window and throwing itself crumbles into a thousand of pieces of marble. The seventh seal has not been opened yet but the ninth the eleventh and the seventeenth exploded already, cracked their own wax and started spreading tongues of flames and water to decimate humanity. A woman dressed in a fifteenth century scarlet outfit leads the pitch black unicorns to salvation creating a safe haven for them in Manchester and another one in California. They have in the meantime gone bonkers and started feeding on each other. Equine teeth suddenly grow carnivorous jaws. Nothing is left in the two oasis apart from a puddle of blood and a pavement of corpses. It's 7 a.m. Chelsea has not yet finished her concert and her music blossoms around played by the mystic turntables of fire. That which remaineth is pitch black light and the breath of aeons lingering here and beyond and nowhere.
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21
Dangerman —a buyer and seller of mostly himself Petticoat —a ***** on the take and about to slip Each made promises to the other but both loved journeys and valleys and limericks and turntables and spirits and skirt-raising and slowdives and lip-biting and come-hither more than their here-and-now vow Trigger-happy begetter with an ax to grind killing captives slowly with jagged little things it's the strangest sound in spite of the plight of the ringing in his ears it never fades away I reckon numbers and lead are arbitrary to a button man whose wheels turn circles mainly in his skull revolving/rouletting as infinite go-around Never mind though, the time must be now for a show of hands Motherhood waited in the ship's hold until the treasure hunt brought her to this final island a choice between gold and the aging ****** The young who suckle at her breast might one day run mum through with the sword at Payback —that unsteady little homestead where profit and loss share the same face Never mind though, the moment must be now to ring the bell And raise redemption like a burning flag of regret
0
Jun 2, 2021
Jun 2, 2021 at 10:03 AM UTC
Carlo-C-Gomez
Division Bell
Dangerman —a buyer and seller of mostly himself Petticoat —a ***** on the take and about to slip Each made promises to the other but both loved journeys and valleys and limericks and turntables and spirits and skirt-raising and slowdives and lip-biting and come-hither more than their here-and-now vow Trigger-happy begetter with an ax to grind killing captives slowly with jagged little things it's the strangest sound in spite of the plight of the ringing in his ears it never fades away I reckon numbers and lead are arbitrary to a button man whose wheels turn circles mainly in his skull revolving/rouletting as infinite go-around Never mind though, the time must be now for a show of hands Motherhood waited in the ship's hold until the treasure hunt brought her to this final island a choice between gold and the aging ****** The young who suckle at her breast might one day run mum through with the sword at Payback —that unsteady little homestead where profit and loss share the same face Never mind though, the moment must be now to ring the bell And raise redemption like a burning flag of regret
Continue reading...
48
Go on, dance with me now. Your hands ticking away time       like a drumbeat,                your radius hitting the table with a knock               on every door that has my heart     hidden somewhere between dreams.              This orange               October     sky, your laugh like       an earth losing its spin,           axis alias         to your tongue.                Forget me now then, we were never a race-                track burnt asphalt                   into your name, I was only                a ship with a suicidal anchor, crashing turntables         like the surface of the sea,               our song stuck now in the echoes                                                                of the Atlantic.
0
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 8:10 AM UTC
rained-on-parade
Orange October
Go on, dance with me now. Your hands ticking away time       like a drumbeat,                your radius hitting the table with a knock               on every door that has my heart     hidden somewhere between dreams.              This orange               October     sky, your laugh like       an earth losing its spin,           axis alias         to your tongue.                Forget me now then, we were never a race-                track burnt asphalt                   into your name, I was only                a ship with a suicidal anchor, crashing turntables         like the surface of the sea,               our song stuck now in the echoes                                                                of the Atlantic.
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15
When you hear stalls emanating sobs In cracked, ***** bathrooms, in between jobs Drunk, gritting his teeth and getting buttfucked By black men, grunting, as you stand dumbstruck, Do you wonder how a man could be so down on his luck? In a truck-stop graffiti-tiled bathroom in his white frock, Trying to ignore the incessant crow of the **** Gagging between unforgiving ticks from the clock. Sipping on beer, the **** bleeds from the cell Spreading dollar bills over the ghost where he fell. Pale-white, scraggly, he bends down for his cash Using mental math to make the conversion from bills to crack. Rope still dangling between his teeth, he drops the syringe, Dragging a cigarette and counting his next binge. Do you wonder if on the way to help, he just lost His way? But he looks up to ask "the **** you want? Are you throwing out an ad hominum argument? Slipping into something like aluminum garments. Throw me face down into the edge of a tar pit, What are friends for?" Kaysea, turn back, you don't want to touch it Your lungs will turn black and your soul will be rusted Over by doubt, self-deprecation and shame You'll realize everyone else is exactly the same Only you've changed. You don't need the shot Lie sprawled, get sick naked in one spot (and rot) Lest we forget the chains of superstitious fear, The two of us would be lending bleeding ears. Gotta wait for the grenadier to return With the test results What have we learned? Gotta find the truth from within the turntables What have you earned? Misery loves company, and this is your catch. You desire the freedom of looking at mirrors to retch But it's not lucidity (you'll forget that a lot), Just impulses revealing that which is not. Your father'd die twice if that was your insight. Do we all have the right to be in hell for a night? There is a never ending layer of nicotine in my throat And nostril scabs, and that's all she wrote, I hope.
0
Feb 8, 2011
Feb 8, 2011 at 1:38 PM UTC
ryan-bowdish
New Razors
When you hear stalls emanating sobs In cracked, ***** bathrooms, in between jobs Drunk, gritting his teeth and getting buttfucked By black men, grunting, as you stand dumbstruck, Do you wonder how a man could be so down on his luck? In a truck-stop graffiti-tiled bathroom in his white frock, Trying to ignore the incessant crow of the **** Gagging between unforgiving ticks from the clock. Sipping on beer, the **** bleeds from the cell Spreading dollar bills over the ghost where he fell. Pale-white, scraggly, he bends down for his cash Using mental math to make the conversion from bills to crack. Rope still dangling between his teeth, he drops the syringe, Dragging a cigarette and counting his next binge. Do you wonder if on the way to help, he just lost His way? But he looks up to ask "the **** you want? Are you throwing out an ad hominum argument? Slipping into something like aluminum garments. Throw me face down into the edge of a tar pit, What are friends for?" Kaysea, turn back, you don't want to touch it Your lungs will turn black and your soul will be rusted Over by doubt, self-deprecation and shame You'll realize everyone else is exactly the same Only you've changed. You don't need the shot Lie sprawled, get sick naked in one spot (and rot) Lest we forget the chains of superstitious fear, The two of us would be lending bleeding ears. Gotta wait for the grenadier to return With the test results What have we learned? Gotta find the truth from within the turntables What have you earned? Misery loves company, and this is your catch. You desire the freedom of looking at mirrors to retch But it's not lucidity (you'll forget that a lot), Just impulses revealing that which is not. Your father'd die twice if that was your insight. Do we all have the right to be in hell for a night? There is a never ending layer of nicotine in my throat And nostril scabs, and that's all she wrote, I hope.
Continue reading...
41
Still puffin' cigars in my sixty six jaguar Made a hood star from climbing a far **** the drug games I made my name Through lyrics of pain easing ya migraine Words pure as Columbian ******* That's means you'll go insane Tryna hang with the dark Knight Bruce Wayne Which means ya mentallydrained going derange My smiff n wesson lays a nice range From the Midwest to the south of Central Texas Get love from my barrio we stay thorough Haters get marked like zorro  so follow The leader beat pleaser turn ebenenzer Once I spit vocals take over ya locals Can't Max  me out my own **** hardest to hit Ya swear it's back in the year of nine six Slammin' all of the these industry clowns like Jordans did the Knicks A Timely essence Even if I'm chillin' with the dead residence you'll still feel my presence no hesitance To foes stained ya calicos wake ya up with a cup of Flow and I stay smokin' girls ******* holes setting fires to their mentals My flows set on auto pilot causing riots Baltimore rage untamed had to put my rhymes in a cage Seen the guage Cocked back ain't no taking away from that Deaths in progress only blessing you seen Is stress so take another hit of cannabis Before you enter the eternal abyss hang ya body over the cliff Like Big Red record every word I said And still can't get a word to the feds I'm the black Hoover got flats from Houston to Vancouver Let me show ya who's the real bruiser Spittin' rhymes that lay more bodies than Fallujah Cruise right through tha My rhymes is tank shootin' missles with no thanks I'm only here to live out My fathers prank Though the devil keep me above all levels Tryna stay from the goods I was made rebel Fools thought they was Cain til they found out I was abel Killin' em with microphone cordless cables and turntables Read between my eyers n you'll see visions of many halos
0
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 8:01 PM UTC
Ru7hl355_Gangsta
Aggin'
Still puffin' cigars in my sixty six jaguar Made a hood star from climbing a far **** the drug games I made my name Through lyrics of pain easing ya migraine Words pure as Columbian ******* That's means you'll go insane Tryna hang with the dark Knight Bruce Wayne Which means ya mentallydrained going derange My smiff n wesson lays a nice range From the Midwest to the south of Central Texas Get love from my barrio we stay thorough Haters get marked like zorro  so follow The leader beat pleaser turn ebenenzer Once I spit vocals take over ya locals Can't Max  me out my own **** hardest to hit Ya swear it's back in the year of nine six Slammin' all of the these industry clowns like Jordans did the Knicks A Timely essence Even if I'm chillin' with the dead residence you'll still feel my presence no hesitance To foes stained ya calicos wake ya up with a cup of Flow and I stay smokin' girls ******* holes setting fires to their mentals My flows set on auto pilot causing riots Baltimore rage untamed had to put my rhymes in a cage Seen the guage Cocked back ain't no taking away from that Deaths in progress only blessing you seen Is stress so take another hit of cannabis Before you enter the eternal abyss hang ya body over the cliff Like Big Red record every word I said And still can't get a word to the feds I'm the black Hoover got flats from Houston to Vancouver Let me show ya who's the real bruiser Spittin' rhymes that lay more bodies than Fallujah Cruise right through tha My rhymes is tank shootin' missles with no thanks I'm only here to live out My fathers prank Though the devil keep me above all levels Tryna stay from the goods I was made rebel Fools thought they was Cain til they found out I was abel Killin' em with microphone cordless cables and turntables Read between my eyers n you'll see visions of many halos
Continue reading...
52
You don't wanna hurt me but you say **''Won't you stop, you talking about love but you only got words''** and you ask me **''What's making you not lose hope when there is so much distance between our worlds It's sad to hear but I was just passing nothing serious, like someone leaving in the morning don't hold on me cuz i'm nothing good for you I'll make you feel what you don't wanna go through cuz I'm just as lost as you honey''** *See, I hate when you are so indecisive and I hate how your love has been addictive how can it feel so good when it ruins me emotionally maybe i'm attracted to what's gonna destroy me and I know you like to start this wicked game but i don't care now, you've made a mess of me let's turntables and play this wicked game again I'll make you beg when you get closer to me* you've had me from the start I still can't control what you've been doing to my heart and I often go through this phase I fall down and just get lost in a haze and i can't bear that I love you I can't bear that you're all i want and need I wish it was different with you but anyway I know that I'll never win you're so unreachable
0
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
escapej8
Wicked Game
You don't wanna hurt me but you say **''Won't you stop, you talking about love but you only got words''** and you ask me **''What's making you not lose hope when there is so much distance between our worlds It's sad to hear but I was just passing nothing serious, like someone leaving in the morning don't hold on me cuz i'm nothing good for you I'll make you feel what you don't wanna go through cuz I'm just as lost as you honey''** *See, I hate when you are so indecisive and I hate how your love has been addictive how can it feel so good when it ruins me emotionally maybe i'm attracted to what's gonna destroy me and I know you like to start this wicked game but i don't care now, you've made a mess of me let's turntables and play this wicked game again I'll make you beg when you get closer to me* you've had me from the start I still can't control what you've been doing to my heart and I often go through this phase I fall down and just get lost in a haze and i can't bear that I love you I can't bear that you're all i want and need I wish it was different with you but anyway I know that I'll never win you're so unreachable
Continue reading...
26
i've heard the songs about killing pain sounding like the only way is with a vinyl record and several shots of something strong *(but pain isn't all alcohol and turntables)* it's a stack of cds still shrinkwrapped so they shine like diamonds a discard pile scratched and cracked so i know that life keeps skipping on a fourth cup of coffee to send my heart rattling and my hands shaking *(i've wished to be in love before just so my heartbreak could someday be justified but i can let the music paint that picture easy)* buffering lyric videos sprawled out in bed watching the light grow brighter behind the curtains finding myself addicted to pain and freezing cold because i need the white noise of a fan at night *(but pain isn't all alcohol and turntables sometimes it's just old boomboxes and black tea)*
0
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 12:51 AM UTC
be-mccomb
alcohol and turntables
i've heard the songs about killing pain sounding like the only way is with a vinyl record and several shots of something strong *(but pain isn't all alcohol and turntables)* it's a stack of cds still shrinkwrapped so they shine like diamonds a discard pile scratched and cracked so i know that life keeps skipping on a fourth cup of coffee to send my heart rattling and my hands shaking *(i've wished to be in love before just so my heartbreak could someday be justified but i can let the music paint that picture easy)* buffering lyric videos sprawled out in bed watching the light grow brighter behind the curtains finding myself addicted to pain and freezing cold because i need the white noise of a fan at night *(but pain isn't all alcohol and turntables sometimes it's just old boomboxes and black tea)*
Continue reading...
36
It's beyond me I swear This will get me every time So breakable, so malleable These thoughts, they are not mine. Turntables of transformations, Ghosts of reasons past, They swear up and down, they do, But it's the logic in them that lacks. Caressing tragedy and levitating love, My lungs are filled with poisonous air, Spiraling curves of crazy and impossible, These thoughts they do not care. Taken down by all forces, I seem to strong to be this weak, My energy leaves the body, My soul can barely speak. Patterns of places, Once familiar to my mind, Take over my senses, These thoughts they are not kind.
0
Sep 7, 2010
Sep 7, 2010 at 3:38 AM UTC
jessica-rojan
Naegleria fowleri
It's beyond me I swear This will get me every time So breakable, so malleable These thoughts, they are not mine. Turntables of transformations, Ghosts of reasons past, They swear up and down, they do, But it's the logic in them that lacks. Caressing tragedy and levitating love, My lungs are filled with poisonous air, Spiraling curves of crazy and impossible, These thoughts they do not care. Taken down by all forces, I seem to strong to be this weak, My energy leaves the body, My soul can barely speak. Patterns of places, Once familiar to my mind, Take over my senses, These thoughts they are not kind.
Continue reading...
20
What i should do is a product of the mind when enlightenment hits its like these eyes go blind And I find, in our bind, we are ones who knew just along for the ride in the same canoe releasing that aura so black , when i hack the realization far from knowing no I can’t go back animal sign in that creature may you reach your spirit with a clarity to find that YOU ARE YOUR OWN TEACHER the feeling from this healing so sensitive I’m numb the pounding of my heart is like a silent soul drum This travel of a trance, unraveled from a glance the false turntables, a mt Everest avalanche. ____________ Words, phrases and meanings is what my unconscious is seeing tendencies leaving, no harm meant started with good intent then was haunted by demons I then repressed, was oppressed next regressed but stepped, leaving negative feelings dis/integrated ….. ritualistically disgustipated with the feelings that exists for the double harmonix 5ths 1 heal the knows that stick 2 rewind the now realized fallacy 3 circle ceremony of sanciti dedicated to the greatest ME holotropic state lacks eviscerate imported government a copy of a state ….. concentrate at a constant pace can’t stop nor wait but modulate out of figure 8s as we conquer stakes know we’re found, hold it down or regurgitate. Before a studded alter, I kneel. I have been here an eternity. A single sphere traps me in the moment, and slows my understanding to the meter of the sacred moment. Judging proceeds. Every possibility of my responses to be analyzed in their intention. I shall prove worthy. My intention is pure and I only try to harmonize with the true frequency of the highest reality. I shall know what I look for. Know it intimately and deeply, to the point of full empathy between the object and self. Realize the truth of myself. Dream. My credence. Love. My code.
0
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 1:36 PM UTC
Im
ZCS
What i should do is a product of the mind when enlightenment hits its like these eyes go blind And I find, in our bind, we are ones who knew just along for the ride in the same canoe releasing that aura so black , when i hack the realization far from knowing no I can’t go back animal sign in that creature may you reach your spirit with a clarity to find that YOU ARE YOUR OWN TEACHER the feeling from this healing so sensitive I’m numb the pounding of my heart is like a silent soul drum This travel of a trance, unraveled from a glance the false turntables, a mt Everest avalanche. ____________ Words, phrases and meanings is what my unconscious is seeing tendencies leaving, no harm meant started with good intent then was haunted by demons I then repressed, was oppressed next regressed but stepped, leaving negative feelings dis/integrated ….. ritualistically disgustipated with the feelings that exists for the double harmonix 5ths 1 heal the knows that stick 2 rewind the now realized fallacy 3 circle ceremony of sanciti dedicated to the greatest ME holotropic state lacks eviscerate imported government a copy of a state ….. concentrate at a constant pace can’t stop nor wait but modulate out of figure 8s as we conquer stakes know we’re found, hold it down or regurgitate. Before a studded alter, I kneel. I have been here an eternity. A single sphere traps me in the moment, and slows my understanding to the meter of the sacred moment. Judging proceeds. Every possibility of my responses to be analyzed in their intention. I shall prove worthy. My intention is pure and I only try to harmonize with the true frequency of the highest reality. I shall know what I look for. Know it intimately and deeply, to the point of full empathy between the object and self. Realize the truth of myself. Dream. My credence. Love. My code.
Continue reading...
53
Every time I eat here, I wonder if she’s still in the restroom. I watch the cakes orbit On refrigerated turntables— a silent waltz for the ballerinas running omelets and coffee. Back when she excused herself to the restroom, the hostess was probably still in diapers.
0
Aug 17, 2024
Aug 17, 2024 at 1:29 PM UTC
RRLatini
It Was Over Easy
Every time I eat here, I wonder if she’s still in the restroom. I watch the cakes orbit On refrigerated turntables— a silent waltz for the ballerinas running omelets and coffee. Back when she excused herself to the restroom, the hostess was probably still in diapers.
Continue reading...
7
two thousand and fifteen  we still.on the same scene  1989 to now i see the Hidden powers with raise eyebrows  cuz i refuse to be a mule a fool  to the system  learned how to read  since i got only one vein they wanna bleed  me wipe me  out but the power is here to stay  so forget what the media says  we all as one and one as all together we'll fall don't be a sucker to the voting because ya ballots aint valid? get it? got it ?  good still down for my neighborhood  but it seems they can only throw block parties but scared to rally the city halls claim they gangsta?  but hide behind a tainted smile and how the hell.is everything ok?  when police smokin' us everyday  month to year no ones drops a tear  im in yo mind so i know ya hear me clear We gotta.... terminator x  hittin' ya with the wrist flex  so the turntables in check The rhymes is in prospect  i gotta get respect its earned no given  who do you believe in?  dont follow a man made God cuz he led me to slavery  back when they used to beat us and pick cotton for free society  is all ****** up got these kids corrupt they dont know real from.fiction  it was a well known prediction from page to page i seen the elite grow enraged  scared of a revolutionary  we had Malcolm Martin' Marley forget that fool Barkley  he takin' us wayyyyy back  i ask for slack  but once they know you black  they willingly ready to attack  so what if ya put ya hands up ? you'll still get popped in ya temple its simple how bout we do a raid  give em a flash of a gun blast  bringin' much sunshine  leavin' no room for shade  yo im ready!!!! to fight the power!!!
0
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 9:13 AM UTC
Ru7hl355_Gangsta
Fight the Power
two thousand and fifteen  we still.on the same scene  1989 to now i see the Hidden powers with raise eyebrows  cuz i refuse to be a mule a fool  to the system  learned how to read  since i got only one vein they wanna bleed  me wipe me  out but the power is here to stay  so forget what the media says  we all as one and one as all together we'll fall don't be a sucker to the voting because ya ballots aint valid? get it? got it ?  good still down for my neighborhood  but it seems they can only throw block parties but scared to rally the city halls claim they gangsta?  but hide behind a tainted smile and how the hell.is everything ok?  when police smokin' us everyday  month to year no ones drops a tear  im in yo mind so i know ya hear me clear We gotta.... terminator x  hittin' ya with the wrist flex  so the turntables in check The rhymes is in prospect  i gotta get respect its earned no given  who do you believe in?  dont follow a man made God cuz he led me to slavery  back when they used to beat us and pick cotton for free society  is all ****** up got these kids corrupt they dont know real from.fiction  it was a well known prediction from page to page i seen the elite grow enraged  scared of a revolutionary  we had Malcolm Martin' Marley forget that fool Barkley  he takin' us wayyyyy back  i ask for slack  but once they know you black  they willingly ready to attack  so what if ya put ya hands up ? you'll still get popped in ya temple its simple how bout we do a raid  give em a flash of a gun blast  bringin' much sunshine  leavin' no room for shade  yo im ready!!!! to fight the power!!!
Continue reading...
50
we go so deep that we forget what's on the surface, it's a slide, steep and our fear is on the playground, while our focus   sleeps we bounce thoughts, off our paddles as we serve linguistic ping pong ***** mischievous baboons. we tug on playful balloons, skipping on ribbons, in the rubber pastel dances of the shifty winds, fluttering flocks of glowing grey moons we turn tables like turntables, on tilted roofs we lay silent, slanted kissing devil hooves
0
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 7:16 PM UTC
gigi-tiji
Silly
we go so deep that we forget what's on the surface, it's a slide, steep and our fear is on the playground, while our focus   sleeps we bounce thoughts, off our paddles as we serve linguistic ping pong ***** mischievous baboons. we tug on playful balloons, skipping on ribbons, in the rubber pastel dances of the shifty winds, fluttering flocks of glowing grey moons we turn tables like turntables, on tilted roofs we lay silent, slanted kissing devil hooves
Continue reading...
24
Return late at night 34mph on the gangway Decimated and tired rotated and unstoppable When I come back around the cul-de-sac the green candle shines my return Flag hangs big and ogreish Waiting for something more I replaced my turntable Black and wood on wood desk Grains matched unintentionally On one speaker I placed my snowglobe Big Ben tall and wide Snow stirs when I play On the other The Capitol Big heavy white dome Smaller and wider but still just as lost Blizzard of turning particle What mood do i turn to? Daft and electronic Queen of hearts and misery Dance of mad villainy? 33.333333 repeating An album cover to cover slip safely in between read the inherent vibrative tone glide my eaten fingernail And sing the songs through my teeth 33.33333 repeating Songs forever maintained Never compressed, just expressed Saved into physical form 33.3333 repeating Round and round Fibonacci of doom Spiral totally in control There is another side to this story I never knew 33.333 repeating They were going to make movies on vinyl screens with vinyl tape and vinyl face Then we got cable 33.33 repeating Mesmerized by the glide of the needle softer than a lover's touch sharper than an atomic clock 33.3 repeating It will be time to flip sides Soon I will know no evil Only the darker satellite 33 repeating I repeat: Listen closely and find the spot Queue it up and fall apart
0
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 1:38 AM UTC
TimelessWave
Turntables
Return late at night 34mph on the gangway Decimated and tired rotated and unstoppable When I come back around the cul-de-sac the green candle shines my return Flag hangs big and ogreish Waiting for something more I replaced my turntable Black and wood on wood desk Grains matched unintentionally On one speaker I placed my snowglobe Big Ben tall and wide Snow stirs when I play On the other The Capitol Big heavy white dome Smaller and wider but still just as lost Blizzard of turning particle What mood do i turn to? Daft and electronic Queen of hearts and misery Dance of mad villainy? 33.333333 repeating An album cover to cover slip safely in between read the inherent vibrative tone glide my eaten fingernail And sing the songs through my teeth 33.33333 repeating Songs forever maintained Never compressed, just expressed Saved into physical form 33.3333 repeating Round and round Fibonacci of doom Spiral totally in control There is another side to this story I never knew 33.333 repeating They were going to make movies on vinyl screens with vinyl tape and vinyl face Then we got cable 33.33 repeating Mesmerized by the glide of the needle softer than a lover's touch sharper than an atomic clock 33.3 repeating It will be time to flip sides Soon I will know no evil Only the darker satellite 33 repeating I repeat: Listen closely and find the spot Queue it up and fall apart
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52
Is it possible to harbor "too much" love? Does it blind those that look into these eyes, like when you look directly into the sun? My eyes are tired and burn in the darkness of night, and I'm not sure if that's a relfection of being one with the light or being tired from this endless fight. We spin on turntables of various perspectives. The tables turn and our hearts turn aggressive. A voice that shakes like unstable breaks, makes me want to thank the way these words easily become written all over my face. You don't have to look too far, just look into my eyes - a demise that is out of sight. It might be the right time to end all that should die inside of these rhymes. Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong, but that is the beauty in life - we still have the freedom to create our own song. So, we walk. We walk to the beat of our dreams, yelling **** what you see me to be, I believe in all the words that they never could sing to me!" Aggression gently hidden by a message. Answers, always ridden on the wrong end of the question. This is my confession - I walk to a song of everything I reckon, through these turntable eyes. Recognize, my demise won't be televised. - L.G
0
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 11:53 PM UTC
lauren-gorger
As The Tables Turn
Is it possible to harbor "too much" love? Does it blind those that look into these eyes, like when you look directly into the sun? My eyes are tired and burn in the darkness of night, and I'm not sure if that's a relfection of being one with the light or being tired from this endless fight. We spin on turntables of various perspectives. The tables turn and our hearts turn aggressive. A voice that shakes like unstable breaks, makes me want to thank the way these words easily become written all over my face. You don't have to look too far, just look into my eyes - a demise that is out of sight. It might be the right time to end all that should die inside of these rhymes. Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong, but that is the beauty in life - we still have the freedom to create our own song. So, we walk. We walk to the beat of our dreams, yelling **** what you see me to be, I believe in all the words that they never could sing to me!" Aggression gently hidden by a message. Answers, always ridden on the wrong end of the question. This is my confession - I walk to a song of everything I reckon, through these turntable eyes. Recognize, my demise won't be televised. - L.G
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16
As the beat breaks, the floor trembles, the records spin, and we all dance on the hardwood floor covered in spilt beer cocktail napkins, at a house show in DC, where I'll always remember rushing on the stage and waving my cellphone, as though I brightened the light in a beacon tucked away in a lighthouse on a grotesque rock formation, in the corner of the James River. I studied her movements: tiny and minute, enough to bring exposure to the deejay scratching records on a set of turntables, cut from a maple tree. The lights cut off, like a road raged driver who maneuvers frantically around my vehicle, this vessel containing my space, personal and untouched, a lonely cabin in a dense forest. Now I'm considering whether I should break the beer bottle over the bar booth, or send her an emoji, a meme, or a gif, to let her know my heart possesses multitudes, beyond the scope of your timeline. Found life in the bottom of a Murakami Well deeper and larger than the cavern behind the hidden waterfall, in a tourist attraction in Chattanooga. This is for when I'm sorry; make me forget about drawings you’ve sketched on the back of your pair of converses. So do me a solid, give me the first home video of your newborn crawling around the carpet, or the dance floor. And then tell me why can't I be great too.
0
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 2:39 PM UTC
dannyartreads
Your turn_Table
As the beat breaks, the floor trembles, the records spin, and we all dance on the hardwood floor covered in spilt beer cocktail napkins, at a house show in DC, where I'll always remember rushing on the stage and waving my cellphone, as though I brightened the light in a beacon tucked away in a lighthouse on a grotesque rock formation, in the corner of the James River. I studied her movements: tiny and minute, enough to bring exposure to the deejay scratching records on a set of turntables, cut from a maple tree. The lights cut off, like a road raged driver who maneuvers frantically around my vehicle, this vessel containing my space, personal and untouched, a lonely cabin in a dense forest. Now I'm considering whether I should break the beer bottle over the bar booth, or send her an emoji, a meme, or a gif, to let her know my heart possesses multitudes, beyond the scope of your timeline. Found life in the bottom of a Murakami Well deeper and larger than the cavern behind the hidden waterfall, in a tourist attraction in Chattanooga. This is for when I'm sorry; make me forget about drawings you’ve sketched on the back of your pair of converses. So do me a solid, give me the first home video of your newborn crawling around the carpet, or the dance floor. And then tell me why can't I be great too.
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48
You scratched the record And now my head is back on repeat It goes over that same beat Over and over again to the point where I don't even wanna attempt to speak If silence is golden Then I'm the biggest known mine Because it feels as though I've been skating over myself when putting words into rhyme Always the same topics from me and not to interesting metaphors You scratched it like a DJ on turntables because I'm winding up to the end of this fable, I can still write and I'm more than willing and able but I gotta stretch my muscles again before I lose the sharpness on my pen, that's my sword
0
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 2:50 PM UTC
neroameealucard
You scratched the record
You scratched the record And now my head is back on repeat It goes over that same beat Over and over again to the point where I don't even wanna attempt to speak If silence is golden Then I'm the biggest known mine Because it feels as though I've been skating over myself when putting words into rhyme Always the same topics from me and not to interesting metaphors You scratched it like a DJ on turntables because I'm winding up to the end of this fable, I can still write and I'm more than willing and able but I gotta stretch my muscles again before I lose the sharpness on my pen, that's my sword
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10
Hate us hate us hate us hate us Check my guns that bust flow platinum plus Got the game on tarantula rap Dracula Suckin' the game dry from the bullets that fly across ya head like a taste of high Reverse my birth so I can make worth hit em where it hurts Pockets felt from the death delt fear smelt Under my enemies embrace my energy faster than a black hole outta space you outta place you an alien Tippin'out of bounds what's that sound? Bodies hittin' the grounds once my voice sounds On the mic you know I get the bids right grip it tight tighter then a virgins pliers amplier set to higher The more the degrees the more they fall to the knees in pleas my guns sneeze Givin' bless you night line specials Read across the board becoming a hoard A lost demon breathin' none relievin' souls retrievin' got em teethin' yo who do you believe in? Better say Yosef or my gats to ya melon becomes explosive made ferocious guerillas known to be killas focused on scrillas got a a few villas Me classa Bentleys on the front of my castle I got greyskulls and a closet full Of mics and turntables breakin'any label thought you was Cain til I was Able To knock ya down buried ya crown found By arche-ologist I suggest your best bet its to bow to my set a super threat none could hit Bars harder than the me ruthless as the Bush adversary who am I just another waitin' to die Retrace my thoughts in the sky made for wise no ties visualize my sinister enterprise make spirits between womens thighs glare in her eyes she catch my phallus rise and then becomes re- energize Makin' a pride a lion that hide his true identityto infinite and beyond compared to none some call me Satan Cuz I be the luminous one flash out a gun sparkin' targets regardless Ill always get hits On the chart sticking like darts part The seas and the lands from my energy that spans elastic as rubberbands stand against my clan ya bound to be left with a ****** tan ......
0
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 8:46 PM UTC
Ru7hl355_Gangsta
Hate Us Hate Us Hate Us
Hate us hate us hate us hate us Check my guns that bust flow platinum plus Got the game on tarantula rap Dracula Suckin' the game dry from the bullets that fly across ya head like a taste of high Reverse my birth so I can make worth hit em where it hurts Pockets felt from the death delt fear smelt Under my enemies embrace my energy faster than a black hole outta space you outta place you an alien Tippin'out of bounds what's that sound? Bodies hittin' the grounds once my voice sounds On the mic you know I get the bids right grip it tight tighter then a virgins pliers amplier set to higher The more the degrees the more they fall to the knees in pleas my guns sneeze Givin' bless you night line specials Read across the board becoming a hoard A lost demon breathin' none relievin' souls retrievin' got em teethin' yo who do you believe in? Better say Yosef or my gats to ya melon becomes explosive made ferocious guerillas known to be killas focused on scrillas got a a few villas Me classa Bentleys on the front of my castle I got greyskulls and a closet full Of mics and turntables breakin'any label thought you was Cain til I was Able To knock ya down buried ya crown found By arche-ologist I suggest your best bet its to bow to my set a super threat none could hit Bars harder than the me ruthless as the Bush adversary who am I just another waitin' to die Retrace my thoughts in the sky made for wise no ties visualize my sinister enterprise make spirits between womens thighs glare in her eyes she catch my phallus rise and then becomes re- energize Makin' a pride a lion that hide his true identityto infinite and beyond compared to none some call me Satan Cuz I be the luminous one flash out a gun sparkin' targets regardless Ill always get hits On the chart sticking like darts part The seas and the lands from my energy that spans elastic as rubberbands stand against my clan ya bound to be left with a ****** tan ......
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25
Beer bottle lights, Upright gentlemen with silver linings Spinning records on thumping turntables The wretched melody of infidelity An ode to the root of all evil Staggered stupor, Dripping poison from the serpent's tongue Heated memories, tentative bites, Broken homes. Dreams swallowed by shattered spikes Heightened sugar rush, Frantic gestures, A reckless tango, Changing tides, A newfound gift to be held Soon to be torn apart A strand of hair, Crooked past reflections The forbidden fruit of artificial boundaries A tangled web of repetitive excuses Decisive nods Barren walls, Torn frames, Passive regrets, Tightened knots, A gust of wind, Fin.
0
Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 1:11 AM UTC
Arcana
Snakes' Den
Beer bottle lights, Upright gentlemen with silver linings Spinning records on thumping turntables The wretched melody of infidelity An ode to the root of all evil Staggered stupor, Dripping poison from the serpent's tongue Heated memories, tentative bites, Broken homes. Dreams swallowed by shattered spikes Heightened sugar rush, Frantic gestures, A reckless tango, Changing tides, A newfound gift to be held Soon to be torn apart A strand of hair, Crooked past reflections The forbidden fruit of artificial boundaries A tangled web of repetitive excuses Decisive nods Barren walls, Torn frames, Passive regrets, Tightened knots, A gust of wind, Fin.
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27
Sitting at the turntables, The sound is the interchangeable, The volume stirs, The lyrics become blurry lines, The channeling of the headphones and speakers, It’ll be my last dose of the day and night. The beat is still there, The 808 rhythms, My hips begin to move, My arms begin to raise , Alone… I feel my personal rhythm vibrate. With each and every gaze of the mirror I hate, I begin to lose myself and encounter the serum of intimacy. The 808’s come again, Sucker punching my soul to match the tone, Ough! My thoughts are deep beneath my bones, Step by step I feel it coming, The electrostatic symphony in my soul, Surging through my breast, A speaker wave travels through my fingertips. This language becomes a buzz, Sweat drips from my hair onto the crystal floor, I swirl to the turntables and raise the volumes some more, The 808’s are hitting me harder than then ever before. I was always told I could kick it to the baseline, With a body so aroused I feel the momentum making me numb, Another step and I climaxed at the 808’s mixture, Another round at the turntables and I hear the 808’s final whispers.
0
Oct 4, 2017
Oct 4, 2017 at 7:46 AM UTC
Lost-Voice
808's
Sitting at the turntables, The sound is the interchangeable, The volume stirs, The lyrics become blurry lines, The channeling of the headphones and speakers, It’ll be my last dose of the day and night. The beat is still there, The 808 rhythms, My hips begin to move, My arms begin to raise , Alone… I feel my personal rhythm vibrate. With each and every gaze of the mirror I hate, I begin to lose myself and encounter the serum of intimacy. The 808’s come again, Sucker punching my soul to match the tone, Ough! My thoughts are deep beneath my bones, Step by step I feel it coming, The electrostatic symphony in my soul, Surging through my breast, A speaker wave travels through my fingertips. This language becomes a buzz, Sweat drips from my hair onto the crystal floor, I swirl to the turntables and raise the volumes some more, The 808’s are hitting me harder than then ever before. I was always told I could kick it to the baseline, With a body so aroused I feel the momentum making me numb, Another step and I climaxed at the 808’s mixture, Another round at the turntables and I hear the 808’s final whispers.
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28
So the clouds parted with the storm: "This isn't us, this isn't our norm" Seemed like no one wanted company From someone they once depended for glee p. b. l. 04/18/2017
0
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 6:53 AM UTC
paolapuz
turntables
So the clouds parted with the storm: "This isn't us, this isn't our norm" Seemed like no one wanted company From someone they once depended for glee p. b. l. 04/18/2017
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5
The world spins and fear turns into hate and hate boils over into blood and blood spills and innocence finds itself taken away into the arms of death and mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers are left with emptiness in their hearts and its becoming too much to bare and I wonder what can we do to change the winds of fate from fanning the flames of ignorance and intolerance and if it isn't greed perpetuating the gears of war what is the reason we still fling bombs and bullets and sacrifice our youths instead of non-violent intellectual debate and if we have the capacity to grow and learn why is that we choose to blindly go where we know no one wins by teaching our kids the same hate filled rhetoric on broken down turntables spewing fear filled songs of hate calling for some unknown enemies blood were on some heroic battlefield taking a strangers life isn't an act of ****** but done for the good of the people in name of god and country and if ****** is being done for the good of the people can we really call ourselves good people and what is the point in saying all men are created equal when at some point in life it becomes so easy for some to believe they are superior in some shape or form over someone of a different color a different *** a different faith a different taste a different social class and its killing me to see so much misery in a world that at this point and in this day of age we have had the ability to evolve into a more compassionate and empathetic species but we hold onto bad habits and old crimes all while trying to bleed a dime from a dead penny and every one would rather pull the blinders tighter to their heads and look the other way because it's business as usual and a shame is a shame but what you going to do in a world that spins and spins no matter how horrific the 24 hour news turns from day to day and it seems life's best bet is a bet against us because lets face it the birds and the bees and the trees will all sing songs of peace when all of us are gone baby gone but I got to wonder if even death would deny taking us all in fear of knowing wherever we go we're bound to **** it all up again and again and again and...
0
Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 9:12 PM UTC
akira-chinen
Hate repeats itself despite its own history
The world spins and fear turns into hate and hate boils over into blood and blood spills and innocence finds itself taken away into the arms of death and mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers are left with emptiness in their hearts and its becoming too much to bare and I wonder what can we do to change the winds of fate from fanning the flames of ignorance and intolerance and if it isn't greed perpetuating the gears of war what is the reason we still fling bombs and bullets and sacrifice our youths instead of non-violent intellectual debate and if we have the capacity to grow and learn why is that we choose to blindly go where we know no one wins by teaching our kids the same hate filled rhetoric on broken down turntables spewing fear filled songs of hate calling for some unknown enemies blood were on some heroic battlefield taking a strangers life isn't an act of ****** but done for the good of the people in name of god and country and if ****** is being done for the good of the people can we really call ourselves good people and what is the point in saying all men are created equal when at some point in life it becomes so easy for some to believe they are superior in some shape or form over someone of a different color a different *** a different faith a different taste a different social class and its killing me to see so much misery in a world that at this point and in this day of age we have had the ability to evolve into a more compassionate and empathetic species but we hold onto bad habits and old crimes all while trying to bleed a dime from a dead penny and every one would rather pull the blinders tighter to their heads and look the other way because it's business as usual and a shame is a shame but what you going to do in a world that spins and spins no matter how horrific the 24 hour news turns from day to day and it seems life's best bet is a bet against us because lets face it the birds and the bees and the trees will all sing songs of peace when all of us are gone baby gone but I got to wonder if even death would deny taking us all in fear of knowing wherever we go we're bound to **** it all up again and again and again and...
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1
Today's another day Just like the rest I sit here pondering With my thoughts all a mess Imagination whirling On turntables inside And all I can come up with Is this repeated style of write
0
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 8:23 AM UTC
shannon-jeffery
Revisited Mind
Today's another day Just like the rest I sit here pondering With my thoughts all a mess Imagination whirling On turntables inside And all I can come up with Is this repeated style of write
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8