"tweeters" poems
the planets. the peaches.
pruned. picked. for the reaches.
the centuries. a second to the eternities.
you can have it. say laugh when. you hear the jazz note.
the voice of all that i spoke. the saxophone.
like dialing digits of truth. on the telephone.
come on. say one and two. up and down. the diversity in one single crown.
upon the ears of sound. it's the heart's listening device. toss it like rice.
at a wedding. human genes get paired up. and twisted.
so simple. it comes in flavors of licorice. red and black.
off and on. check the track. when the needle skips.
we find all these differences.
let me bring it back. for diversity.
zeroes and ones. spread the spectrum. across high and low frequencies.
it's so easy. let the record speak. can you stay on beat.
the principles of the high. the sincerity of the meek.
whatever lies between. is one or the other. blended across the centuries.
and all mothers. give birth to the last. man to the first.
follow that. discussion of high low.
mid ranges get blown. saxophone pace the flow. get pricked by the tweeters.
soul from the bass feeders. save the appetite. for the words that i write.
and then speak. you you. not me. splitting hairs. atoms. quarks. and light.
beams. like a smile. across a broad spectrum. either off. always on.
high low. then get gone.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
the new tupac will have you too walkin with gangstas
the new two stupidity now two steppin with prankstas
murked the first one sayin he's blacker the berry
when i'm sweeter than juice
bass voiced top me if you want to experience that jacked tweeters induced
when i own all of Victoria's secrets as proof
tellin me what the body when all his deducement has him actin when he's wearin his shoes
crypt walking like that it's only talk
missed balking like has bass fits jocking as his only walk
******* with me when All Hailed Mary like if she was his when is only stolen balk
I'm walkin again the gauntlet cuz all the women they want this flauntin all **** like if i was jackin all the wanted
like ghost whippin me imma follow you till i'm haunted
pain really, so bow down, when my diamonds glisten
listen again is just as well bilateral biased has his confused his like the ol' eminem was in the new form gettin his face jacked again
like me smokin crack with friends like all given enemies stressed was all given was a race black and then
we actually are the same race like i knew you back like i owned all the streets like his females thuggin as heathen
**** riding i'll **** your *** up like settin me up when i'm always the last muthafucken breathin
exposing the ***** heathen breathin like if you were the only man catching bullet rounds exposed like the new you was still alive
to the next ** hiked my socks up construed you at hit stupidity when will ride
ghettos owned by just the black reppin when you're steppin the whack, honest it was just onyx
i'll blast your *** like if you stole my pump shotty:
like i never was wanted runst follies
anamoly run has all criminal cops all fathering fun deceiving that all to gain was never greed when all greed in need bothering sons:
all you still down with me when we ride it
looking like a *** while i'm guy gee stag when you're looking into their eyes, they'd know comparison of a bird control as if fathering guys
my knowledge is flight applauding the time, are you still down with me
i hide behind the love of beauty of my womens eyes when you're looking like the female opened you up to your face compared to opening thighs
they don't know like how you stare in the future that tommorow comes only after the dark
knowing me marks the coming of the actual god
I am "unconditional heart"
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC
Six String Theory
tachyons protons neutrons galore
theoretical bombardment of mystical thought
jazzy country twisted rock knocking at my door
bending string blister melody sought
uptempo slowed down bugs bunny hop
octavial flated fifths and tones augmented
temperatures rising and I can't stop
missing musical chair sadly lamented
quick step spanish flamenco dancing feet
growling woofers and screaming tweeters
employing Lester's capo and magic wand
burned rubber top down blowing two seaters
it matters not how you stroke it
turn the preamp clockwise to 8 point 5 deary
power chords belly flopping your wammy bar
close your eyes and dream a six string theory
Gomer LePoet....
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
Six String Theory
tachyons protons neutrons galore
theoretical bombardment of mystical thought
jazzy country twisted rock knocking at my door
bending string blister melody sought
uptempo slowed down bugs bunny hop
octavial flated fifths and tones augmented
temperatures rising and I can't stop
missing musical chair sadly lamented
quick step spanish flamenco dancing feet
growling woofers and screaming tweeters
employing Lester's capo and magic wand
burned rubber top down blowing two seaters
it matters not how you stroke it
turn the preamp clockwise to 8 point 5 deary
power chords belly flopping your wammy bar
close your eyes and dream a six string theory
Gomer LePoet....
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
In this morning's waiting room
And then the café, breaking bread -
I might have read,
Engaged in reverie
Lost myself in thoughts,
Or meditative memory.
But someone overruled
To agitate the air
With an imbroglio
With the inane, vain,
Smug banter of local radio.
It claimed the arena,
And turned our space
From haven into mayhem,
Compulsively silting up
My poor, empty ears
With an unhealthy sound.
Like painting out the view
Behind Beata Beatrix
With a filthy fairground.
Just what we need!
This constant aural cattle-feed.
So: every tree in my opinion
- (I'm speaking as a lowly minion)
Should be hung with massive speakers
Huge loudspeakers, woofers, tweeters,
To entertain us in every place
With never-ending drum and bass,
Then verbose youths, with wit so clever
Can pump us full of **** forever.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 6:39 AM UTC
*where lovers cry
where dreams die
where clouds are gone
And hearts are torn
I know a place
where eyes don't sleep
Neither do they blink
phones don't beep
And minds don't think
I know a place
Where roads don't meet
Shuffle don't feet
Flowers don't blossom
And life is for ransom
I know a place
where bitter is sweet
where tweeters don't tweet
where roosters don't crow
where nothing goes pro
I know a place
where it rains it don't shine
whence it rains rains wine
where people don't mind
that they search and don't find
I know a place
where war does thrive
and peace is but in shards
where dead are alive
and in silence speak words
I know a place
where all is wanting
everyone is chanting
even the dogs are panting
for there's no more hunting
I know a place
where lovers go to cry
were dreams go to die
where searchers don't find
where seers are the blind
I know a place*
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 12:37 AM UTC
Im gonna mic this **** up and EQ it out, make the speakers ring now so we can scream and shout, and it wont feedback; till you hear "Back in Black", when the bass line hits all across the pan, and I redline that **** cause its my ******* Jam.
Peaking dBs on all of the meters. Blowing out the cabs and frying the tweeters. We smashed our guitars so let the keg flow. How else would you end a ******* awesome show?
Watch the roadies pack up, but give them respect. They do a lot more than you woud ever expect.
An after party now and were burning it down. Stumble back to the bus and to the next town. To start it all over for another go round.
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
The devil,
The haters,
The girls,
The tweeters,
They label me,
But they can't relate to my stuggle man I came up from slavery,
This goes out to the lies you said about never leavin me,
Cause you're just like Loren in every way I can see,
You dropped the friendship when I did nothing wrong,
Now the only thing that can help me now is city and colour or another good song,
You dropped all we had over some stupid ****
And decided that my feelings didn't madder and that you should quit,
Apologies go out to all of the girls who waited so patiently,
A big thanks to all of the people who prayed for me,
Goodbye to all the girls that left and friend zoned me,
Cause you're all the same,
Lost, mean, and full of shame.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 11:16 AM UTC
Cell Block 7
yeah crank those super tweeters
let me feel the burning in my ears
I've been locked away in prison
for almost twenty-three years
they searched here and everywhere
trying to find my soul
but it was locked in my memory
that was the one thing they never stole
so now I'm free from the proding
no more bend it over and spread
they thought they were messing with me
but they had no idea what was in my head
I was jammin with Joe Bonamassa
and Eric C. sometimes came too
the only bending was on the 16th fret
triple harmonies screaming into the blue
wash those shirts dig that dirt
rake the garden get all the weeds
they didn't realize I was getting good stuff
the kind with really big seeds
so when they threw me to the floor
and yelled see how you like cell block 7
I just grinned from ear to ear
they had no idea I was heading to heaven
yeah they tried to take my dignity
they were just wasting their time
I wasn't going anywhere inside my head
I was busy looking for a line to rhyme
Gomer LePoet ....
Aug 29, 2011
Aug 29, 2011 at 3:37 PM UTC
Cell Block 7
yeah crank those super tweeters
let me feel the burning in my ears
I've been locked away in prison
for almost twenty-three years
they searched here and everywhere
trying to find my soul
but it was locked in my memory
that was the one thing they never stole
so now I'm free from the proding
no more bend it over and spread
they thought they were messing with me
but they had no idea what was in my head
I was jammin with Joe B.
and Eric C. sometimes came too
the only bending was on the 16th fret
triple harmonies screaming into the blue
wash those shirts dig that dirt
rake the garden get all the weeds
they didn't realize I was getting good stuff
the kind with really big seeds
so when they threw me to the floor
and yelled see how you like cell block 7
I just grinned from ear to ear
they had no idea I was heading to heaven
yeah they tried to take my dignity
they were just wasting their time
I wasn't going anywhere inside my head
I was busy looking for a line to rhyme
Gomer LePoet ....
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 7:54 PM UTC
Six String Theory
tachyons protons neutrons galore
theoretical bombardment of mystical thought
jazzy country twisted rock knocking at my door
bending string blister melody sought
uptempo slowed down bugs bunny hop
octavial flated fifths and tones augmented
temperatures rising and I can't stop
missing musical chair sadly lamented
quick step spanish flamenco dancing feet
growling woofers and screaming tweeters
employing Lester's capo and magic wand
burned rubber top down blowing two seaters
it matters not how you stroke it
turn the preamp clockwise to 8 point 5 deary
power chords belly flopping your wammy bar
close your eyes and dream a six string theory
Gomer LePoet....
Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 2:01 PM UTC