"uncool" poems
Dissing amazing poets prose and angst they posting on net site for peotry
makes you look like you queen and king of petty and uncool.
Got a grade school nephew he is age four and he speaks without thinking.
We know why little kiddies speak out and can't control nasty actions.
Why grown *** people sit on net dissing poet's poems.
Me thinks it's like having a nasty out of control mind like kiddies
like when those kiddies diss poets poems and actions are nasty.
Repeating for you what those who are wise know and with no dissing.
If you do not enter the tiger's cave, you will not catch its cub.
American meaning be like nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Posting whatever the hell poems is good and no such thing as a bad poem.
on poetry site this be no write poem, no poems under name.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 7:13 AM UTC
The chatter makes me think, think
Think, think of the brink,
Of extinction,
Of my pain,
And our scars,
The world is pressing too far,
Hurting,
Discovering,
Totally uncovering,
The weaknesses of people who can't take care of themselves.
Those people who are crying out for help.
The kid hit by his momma,
The girl depressed from drama,
The kid starving in Africa,
The teen trafficked from Albania.
This world is cruel,
Totally uncool.
People think it's minuscule,
These real problems that people face,
Every god ****** ******* day.
White privilege is a real thing,
And sexism is an issue,
Homosexuality is not a miscue,
And the only person who can make change,
Is
You
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 12:47 PM UTC
Jealously's a you-know-what
I hate her with a passionate rage
My heart barely harbors this feeling
But every emotion has a stage
Jealousy should go away now
No one loves her, she's uncool
She just makes me look bad
I let her use me like a tool
Jealousy is the ugliest of all
She lurks in my mind until I break
Her clammy hands suffocate my heart
I end up giving what she wants to take
Jealousy lives everywhere
She's a million places at a time
Toss her in the fire, my dear
Just wait, and out she'll climb
Jealousy is the only one I truly hate
She's ruined perfectly good days
Get lost, you stupid imposter!
You're always misleading our ways!
Jealousy reeks of insecurity
Hungry and scared like a forgotten pet
But Jealousy doesn't play nicely
She just builds and builds regret
Jealousy is always hiding
You never know where she might be
Keep an eye on your heart and mind
She's always looking for another lost key.
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 4:17 PM UTC
You’re my number one
You’re my one and only
Yes, the only one
I want home waiting for me
I can’t tell what’ll happen
If our feelings change
In one way or the other
Id love you just the same
Ill spend my very last dime
For now, its all for you
And if it reaches forever
Well, who knew
I'd fall so deep in love
I can’t get you off my mind
You’re my first priority
Any day, any time
We’re halfway there
We’ve made a mark
It’s been 6 months
You still feel that spark?
Coz it’s been 26 weeks,
Around 182 days,
That’s roughly around 4, 368 hours
And countless number of ways
That you’ve given me happiness
With your every kiss and hug,
It’s like the fourth of July in me
I’ve got a bad case of the love bug
So yes, you make me gay
With you, I’m ecstatic
You already know I’m so uncool
And such a hopeless romantic
So let’s just keep going
I’d like to know you more
I’ll study your very being
And still love you till your very core
So I’m sorry, babe
If I ask for forever
I know it’s all uncertain
But never say never
Happy 6th month
And thank you for teaching me
To stay strong
And wear my heart on my sleeve
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 10:33 PM UTC
They call it a 'Class War"
They call it a "War of Liberation"
whilst its just another instance of white oppression
Childish, immature, mean and nasty underachievers
like the kid on the beach who kicks over others sandcastle
because they are better than the ******* castle he made
Like that that uncool dumb teen who scatters the board game
because he's now seen that he is losing and cannot win at all
like those ugly pimpled friends who would play gooseberry
and cock-blockers because they can't get nice dates of their own
like that bitter mad one who will spill ink over your white top
or new Trainers because he or she has old and ***** ones
They are all from the world of the sicko psychos and damaged
talent-less mean, envious, sad pathetic people going nowhere
If I can't make it, why should others do and be winners
They all graduate to the divisive politics of the ****** losers
Power is stopping progress and advancement because they are down
Power is bringing achievers and enterprise down they can's gain
Power is sabotaging all that is good because they are bad in all
Measly fetid minds they plot and conspire in gangrenous network
dolts, scums, unwashed losers and rejects of society, bottom feeders
Come join the Party, our specialty is chaos and disruption of winners
The pathetic jokes of the white West, losers in their own backyards
picks on an African who came from disadvantages to better them
better educated, more intelligent, cool and stylish in every way
pack full of potential, going places they can never go or reach
Our sick, mean spirited under-achievers, expert losers and scums
crawled on the war-path, riddled with envy, sick with jealousy
ruin his progress, oppose and disrupt a black man who doubles
efforts to achieve, what if losers try is given to them on a plate
What here is done for the greater good, what here is honorable
celebrated victories for psychos, racist underachievers I think not
peoples power? more sick, tormented, jealous n envious chicanery
anarchy jealousy, anarchy shame, anarchy racists, anarchy liars
One Single Black achiever demonstrates the inherent strength
and grace of our all our Ancestors against sick, persistent white oppression. That's the story here.
If its a fair war, why hide and go underground, why fight *****
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 7:40 AM UTC
Would you let me walk you back to school?
And maybe later, teach me how to play pool?..
Oh maybe Friday if you're free,
Play dinosaur mini golf with me?
I know I'm uncool..
But I like who I am when i'm with you
Wont you tell your bro to add me back
Tell him I play guitar too but mostly when I'm sad..
Rock and roll is pretty cool,
And Hip Hop was better when it was old school..
But I write acoustic tunes...
Oh you know I do.
Did you ever get the message that I never sent?
You always said you could read me,
Well did you figure I was upset
When you didn't answer the phone
All these days I've felt alone
Just a little hollow and not okay..
But i'd still be here tomorrow,
Despite yesterday.
Oh I'd still love you tomorrow,
Even if my heart breaks apart today.
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 11:28 PM UTC
bubble gum died Sunday of strokes at his home ,
The pink bubble gum ...
had a tiny comic strip
Little children wanted to read the comic.
in an adulterous liaison
and is born homely and with green skin.
under the hawkish gaze
in retro pastel uncool-they’re-cool-again cans,
a big splash with a peppy
emoji-like smiles on the side and some polka dots
oh oh oh oh oh oh thus liked
consumers should felt free
... to be relentlessly
Has almost no bite.” “Full-bodied.
This tastes like a Twizzler...
“Sharper bubble feel.”
acrolein, acrylamide, acrylonitrile,
crotonaldehyde and propylene,
flavorturned into a huge mess like 'unicorn poop'
and bubble gum."
oh oh oh oh oh oh thus liked
“All those teenagers was twerk,
take selfies and curse up a storm. …”
oh oh oh oh oh oh thus liked
...turned into a huge mess
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 3:23 PM UTC
the zombie has opinions about nutrition
but lives off of tasty urban debris
the zombie is standing on the beach
whipped by grey
watching the waves roll in high
the zombie is on the computer again--
where nobody knows he's a zombie
the zombie seems to be listening but is looking at his phone
the zombie is not a joiner, so don't be uncool and ask
though he might join and then drop out, which just proves
joining was pointless in the first place
oh definitely the zombie likes to go down
the zombie bites the hand that feeds him
the zombie does not mind poison if it means saving money
the zombie is against bad things.
the zombie is not a sheep.
the zombie is dying of loneliness but can't ever seem to connect.
the zombie is spreading deserts
and drowning deltas.
the zombie is standing up for what's right, on facebook.
the zombie knows that *** is safer than alcohol
and it makes him safer
the zombie feels guilty sometimes but ultimately
not personally responsible.
the zombie is tired--not enough sleep, not enough brains.
the zombie doesn't need you,
he just wants you,
when he sees you.
ahem: the zombie wants you for your mind.
the zombie is free.
the zombie embodies Csikszentmihalyi's state of "Flow."
the zombie may have made you one of his kind,
you will never know because
zombies don't know they're
zombies.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 8:29 AM UTC
I'm an idiot, idi-fool,
Idiot, idiot, idi-tool,
Idiot, idi-lump,
Idiot, idi-chump,
Idiot, idiot, most uncool.
I'm an idiot, idi-goon,
Idiot, idiot, idi-loon,
Idiot, idi-berk,
Idiot, idi-jerk,
Idiot, idiot; a buffoon.
I'm an idiot, idi-plum,
Idiot, idiot, and so dumb,
Idiot, idi-pratt,
Idiot, getting fat,
Idiot, idiot, feeling glum.
Jun 14, 2010
Jun 14, 2010 at 9:00 PM UTC
The flames be flyin' hot tonight,
so the horns be heatin' up just right!
Skeep-deep-do-bop-bee-bop-do-skeetle-scat-woo-woo, hell-bop-ba-ska-da fra-la-la-la-la-la-la-foo-foo, yous,
look-see-dee-wee-boys doin' da voodoo,
look-see-dee-wee-girls playin' wid hoodoo.
Cuz, I'm a scat-man,
it's a fat fact ma'am!
Yeah, I'm a scat-man,
it's a fat fact ma'am.
And I dun gives a ****
if there's no reason to the scat-plan.
If you come across the fancy bowler hat,
dun be afraid to start stuttering the big skat:
Batta-tat-tat looksee-da-flat-uncool-rat
givin' his square-eyed-glare to-the-scat-cats ~meow~
skee-shee-flyin'-the-sillee like a banshee,
singin' sillee-skee-shee-all-fancee-free -
and we putssss on the br(e)ak(e)s
just
like thissssssss (!)
and
in h a l e ....
Go! Go! GO!
Skeep-deep-do-bop -bee- bop-do-skeetle-scat-woo-woo,
hell-bop ba-ska-da fra-la-la-la-la-la-la-foo-foo,
look-see-dee-wee-boys doin' da voodoo,
look-see-dee-wee-girls playin' wid-hoodoo.
Yeah, I'm a scat-man,
it's a fact ma'am! x2
Yeah, I'm a scat-man,
it's a fact ma'am.
Jul 31, 2012
Jul 31, 2012 at 6:35 PM UTC
it's inherent ontology, it's not even necessary to process inherited ontology; inherited ontology can be riddled and lost to abstraction like the invention of crosswords as antidote to the drilling-in of the Bible... but inherent ontology? inherent is a tautological invitation to italicise the word ontology - tautology anti synonym - the doubly stressed, point origin secured, but from two adjacent / adjective angles - well, might as well be a compound, the adjacent-adjective, when language meets math and math meets.... d'uh... or simply arithmetic, because that's how it's easily translated, arithmetic is grey people and math the rich... language the poets and grammar the farts.
a shortened critique of pure reason -
a) based on phenomena
(things most likely talked about)
and
b) based of noumenna
(things least likely talked about)....
i.e. a) and the ego implant,
and b) the god implant -
likewise the zealots on either side,
bleep bleep beep r r e r s.... and muslims...
i forgot to mention that Kant forgot
to mention the trigonometric foundations
as justifying owning a villa or whatnot,
the same foundations of having
the implant ego secured and willed
are the same parameters of the
implant god secured and thought
the point being dynamic parallelism,
mid-way between cosine and sine
rigid fluctuation tangents occur,
the ridiculous abbreviations, the p.s., and ibis.;
you're basically born with ego
or you're born with god -
there's no woof woof Pavlov chime chime in between -
ring-a-ding-ding-surprise?
there's no side-winding to create cinema -
being born with ego is explained clearly, coerced
with monetary affairs;
being born with god is explained "clearly", coerced
with murderers, lastly -
no psychological theory will box-me-in
given the lost tribalism and the usage of
the trans-valuation of the synonym of thing -
with money came slang - and all thorough evils,
with slang, synonyms, antonyms, critique of vocab.,
Arizona in the ******* Amazon -
i'm basically saying what Kant said:
god isn't uncool or whatever atheism tends to forget,
it's an implant of functioning, we can't rid it
by argument, and we certainly can't accept it
by prayer - unless we're dumb enough to do either
for worth of understanding tornadoes;
because that's were Seymour Hoffman started for me,
filming Twister.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
Cancer sticks.
Burning lungs.
Smelly breath.
Yellow teeth.
Hanging out of a mouth like a silly clown prop.
Take a drag
Tar smothering the lungs limiting their functionality.
Cool look when you're 12!
Hell at 42 when the lungs no longer function and your body is poisoned by the uncool part of a *** you can't see!
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 3:26 AM UTC
When I was in elementary school I never understood why no one else would shake with fear
I would feel a hug of cold air around my body
I'd ask if anyone else felt it and when no one did I thought I was insane
Then I'd start to shake and lose control of my hands
You're such a freak I'd hear as I slowly lost control
My mind would go blank and suddenly I thought I'd be sick
I ran to the nurse where she called me a drama queen
My teacher ran in after and pulled me back to class
I didn't know why I was only half of what others were
In middle school, I learned not to mention these feelings
Everyday before school I would be reminded don't tell anyone how you feel
When those cold hugs started to envelop my starved frame I'd spit fire at everyone
Instead of caring about what others said I'd immediately shoot a smart reply
When my teacher asked me why I was so rude I asked why she cared when no one else did
I wanted to be like the girls who came to school skipping and laughing
I wanted to be whole
In junior high, I locked myself in bathrooms
I'd have to be drugged until I couldn't feel anything so I'd go to school
When I felt numb I started to miss feelings so I slowly dug silver into my wrists and slowly stopped putting food into my body
I learned that the only thing that would make me feel whole was people liking me, so I made a self improvement list
I stopped swearing, I said I loved pink, I said I wanted designer dresses, I said I wasn't myself
Even then I was never whole, I craved love
I craved the warm embrace of others replacing the cold hugs of anxiety
I craved love, I wanted to be someone to love me
In 8th grade I realized those improvements didn't make those cold hugs go away
I decided that maybe if my heart stopped beating everything would be better
When my heart fought my attempts to silence it I decided that maybe I deserved those cold hugs
Now in high school, I realize that I was not being me
I attempt to embrace those cold hugs back
I start to slowly do what society tells me is uncool
But I will never be able to feel whole until I learn that hugs and I love yous may make the anxiety go away for a little while, I have to learn to love myself cold hugs and all in order to truly be whole
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 7:41 PM UTC
_A_ _fat_ _little_ _girl_
....
A small little child with curly brown hair
Chubby, pink cheeks with skin so fair
Eats, enjoys, indulges and more
Everyone says "she's full for sure"
_A_ _fat_ _little_ _girl_
....
A sweet little girl, with long pigtails
Sees all the girls, and wonders why she fails
They all have friends, but why doesn't she
How come they're all so happy
_A_ _fat_ _little_ _girl_
....
A shy little girl, afraid to face her school
Everyone laughs, she's fat and 'uncool'
Sitting alone each and every day
Wondering why they treat her this way
_A_ _fat_ _little_ _girl_
....
A mature little girl, much for her age
Looks at the number on the scale enraged
Hating herself and what she's become
Wishing to see all her bones such as some
_A_ _fat_ _little_ _girl_
....
A fat little girl, no food on her plate
Determined as hell to lose all this weight
Her friends and her family, see her each day
More and more frail, withering away
_A_ _sick_ _little_ _girl_
....
A skeleton of a girl, who once was happy and bright
Her eyes now dark and hollowed at night
Clinging to life with her small, bony hands
Regretting all childhood reprimands
_A_ _dead_ _little_ _girl_
....
A dead little girl, now merely a corpse
Leaving everyone behind feeling remorse
A closed casket service, nothing left to show
Wants to be be remembered as we all know
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 3:23 PM UTC
I'm only lukewarm, marginally mediocre.
Not quite laid-back enough to be considered cool
Nor adequately exciting for red hot.
Just going by, average, as a rule.
I'm much too old to be reckless and immature,
Yet not as old as wisdom and a good war story.
Not so rich to live out luxurious abandon
but far too rich to be tragically sorry.
I'm unremarkable, uneventful, uninteresting,
Uncool and unattractive, unfit and unaware.
I assume I'm just not- I'm everything 'un' already,
A stale glass of water, gone oddly warm in stagnant air
I am lukewarm, at best.
Perhaps some day I'll be blast frozen
Or I had once been boiled hot.
For now though, there are no cubes of ice
That I can swallow and be more than not.
I am the everyday masses, lost in the throng,
The not-particularly-bright, non-slacker, no-name brands
That believe they're not good enough- or quite the sharpest prong.
We, the herd lost in the middle bench lands-
We're wild and we're sober,
Frightened and unafraid.
We're nothing like you, but we're just the same.
But we, the ones who spend our lives
In the middle bench,
will be alright.
We can persevere, we can.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
My lips are still blisterin,
From all that whisperin, that
Made me kinda sick, so I
Search for my chapstick, but
Find in it’s stead,
A pen, orn’ry and red,
That chooses to be used,
And true to my cue, I
Seclude and intrude
On each and every muse-
-ic, -ing, -ment, of my peers.
And its clear I have seared
Every page I have seen
And heard of my herd,
Pulled apart at the seems
Teeming with teams
And half-assessed dreams, that I dreamt
But have since beheaded like queens.
Yet who is the jester? The joker? The fool?
It’s me from your world, your country, your school.
It’s me who coos uncool, and caws too rawly
And so rarely, Even I’m a bit scared of me
No! No fear or fervor is necessary, tremors and
Heartstrings tremble headlines on the Daily.
Oooh, calm, soothe, my tongue, my soul, my lips,
I’ll cool them off but remember all this, or else you
May be blistering, and searching, for my lost chapstick,
But be lacking in trust, ‘cause I used it all up,
Quite a long time before you even lusted that luck.
Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 3:04 PM UTC
Totally like whatever, you know?
by Taylor Mali
In case you hadn’t noticed,
it has somehow become uncool
to sound like you know what you’re talking about?
Or believe strongly in what you’re saying?
Invisible question marks and parenthetical (you know?)’s
have been attaching themselves to the ends of our sentences?
Even when those sentences aren’t, like, questions? You know?
Declarative sentences—so-‐called
because they used to, like, DECLARE things to be true, okay,
as opposed to other things are, like, totally, you know, not—
have been infected by a totally hip
and tragically cool interrogative tone? You know?
Like, don’t think I’m uncool just because I’ve noticed this;
this is just like the word on the street, you know?
It’s like what I’ve heard?
I have nothing personally invested in my own opinions, okay?
I’m just inviting you to join me in my uncertainty?
What has happened to our conviction?
Where are the limbs out on which we once walked?
Have they been, like, chopped down
with the rest of the rain forest?
Or do we have, like, nothing to say?
Has society become so, like, totally . . .
I mean absolutely . . . You know?
That we’ve just gotten to the point where it’s just, like . . .
whatever!
And so actually our disarticulation . . . ness
is just a clever sort of . . . thing
to disguise the fact that we’ve become
the most aggressively inarticulate generation
to come along since . . .
you know, a long, long time ago!
I entreat you, I implore you, I exhort you,
I challenge you: To speak with conviction.
To say what you believe in a manner that bespeaks
the determination with which you believe it.
Because contrary to the wisdom of the bumper sticker,
it is not enough these days to simply QUESTION AUTHORITY.
You have to speak with it, too.
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 7:27 AM UTC
The Fool
The grass bows in respect as he passes,
A fool so very unruly,
Spits vengeful passion,
Sets the bowing grass on fire,
Destroying nature with his smile,
Raucous,
Lashing feelings,
Eyelashes flutter in mortified shame,
Curling of their own accord,
In harmony of discord!
Disputed by speech in truth!
Love songs live ,
Castigated fool,
This lyricist,
Chastised for lack of care,
Beaten down,
Darkened magic mind,
Riling by inspiring,
Cauldron bubbles,
Images evaporate,
Eternal gossamer magic,
This fool's a clever fool!
He is such unruly fool,
Will never admit it,
Uncool fool,
Will stand in attendance,
To whims and things,
Main retorts in nonchalance!
Founded in chalice,
Full,
This fool,
Well,
He's no village idiot!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 6:08 AM UTC
A price that’s in the men shoes
He’s unclaimed and well schooled
Act his rhymes n’ mimic his friend too
Make him understand our sweeter shoo
Blend to been online with his touchy tools
Then play him around n' bring him to us too
Wherein he'll crave more for our added duties
A pleasure to bend n' subdue his struggling pities
And so you try to get me for all the monies n' fame
Hoping that my heart do cringe to the gains and aims
For in most man’s heart lies some greed n' impurities
But that testimony was short-sighted n’ less accurate
Dunamis and poverty - a borrower, the lender's slave
An experience to fail my rapture; a shameful swing
Which my hands cannot say – an immoral beauty
Whom my lips can not welcome; the school
The teacher - the minister
A princess n’ a bling
A frog as a king
He’s handsome
By gender
She's beautiful
in slander
A prince
An offender
A princess
The slanderer
The princess and a king
A soldier n’ a fling - a queen who’s ashamed
The offer that topped the shelf of supreme
That's us, both upside down and unclaimed
A soldier n’ a queen - a coward, a shame
The prince and a fling
A miss
A glamor
A mister
An amour
Unashamed
With clamor
Unmoved
By hammers
A miss in a glamour
A mister in an amour
The minister and a king
The majestic of single shoes
Who's keen to sense a moral beauty
Who sees the world as an interesting chaff
Dominate n' commoners; a sense of duty that
All must claimed from their individual combat
For in most men heart, here lies love n’ cruelty
To flamed the hearts n’ dance to pains n’ strife
So I sought to seize the life of love and Faith
To pursuit a walk of dreams n’ less blemish
Where little is important than odd duties
Like turn me around and teach me you
Teach me to see another man’s shoot
Make me enjoy that creepiness too
Shade my mind and my drink too
Cause I’m unclaimed n’ uncool
A vice that's in a male shoes
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 1:33 PM UTC
Sometimes I would walk through the halls,
feeling nothing but anxiety.
My mind would become flooded:
What should I be doing…
what should I be saying...
what is everyone thinking?
See-
I used to float to the back of the room
to the back of my mind where
I escaped the world by reading.
Nerdy.
A loser. A freak.
I was too intelligent for my age.
It wasn’t COOL to get straight A’s.
Then I advanced to the seventh grade,
with no idea my life was about to change.
I made a friend.
Then Two. Then Three.
A former unknown concept: “popularity”.
Skater shoes, with laces you didn’t tie,
pink backpacks, hair straight as a pin-
Abercrombie-
led me to a moment I still hate today:
“Try some of this”.
It wasn’t COOL if you said no.
It was my first taste of intoxication,
my first taste of escape-
escape of my mind, the thoughts,
The anxiety.
The more I sipped, the more I let go.
The drinks would become stronger,
we raged every other night.
Tolerances were creeping up high,
control started waving goodbye to my mind.
It wasn’t COOL to be sober.
We laughed, we kid-
called ourselves “alcoholics”.
If only then I knew more, and the future I would soon endure
because of the potion we poured and poured.
It wasn’t COOL to be a lightweight.
Some years later I bragged and I boasted,
over the amount of liquor I could intake.
“The only girl who could outdrink the boys”-
the girl, I’d someday unrelated.
She’d fallen for everything society had wanted to create.
“Popularity”.
Then came the day I knew would eventually arrive-
the day of realization and what it meant to be alive.
I no longer wanted to be COOL.
Because with each drink, the value of life was swallowed-
I never have felt
quite that hollow. As if
all the knowledge that once filled my mind
vanished.
I yearned for nothing but to go back to the days,
when I was uncool
and got
straight A’s.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 3:52 PM UTC
I hate myself.
I hate my life.
I hate that i'm not pretty.
I hate that i'm uncool.
I hate the fact that they only like me because "I make them laugh"
I hate that they only glorify perfect figures and pretty face
Not intelligence nor virtue
I hate that nobody really cares.
Help me.
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 7:49 AM UTC
When did feminism become a taboo?
When did equality become uncool
Men not superior to females
Us not superior to them too.
When did I become the taboo?
When did this become uncool.
So I wish we are all square and blue
true, it'd make dating difficult
but what'd you do,
you'd talk to people
true
*** would be awkward
too angles
too many rights
won't create create the sweetest wrong
but at least we'd break the taboo
No colour
No gender
No looks
apart from the individuals descriptions
Believe: I am female
I am male
without doing a cursory glance up
and down
believe: I am intelligent
I am creative
without checking my pigment or
my ****
because I am done with it
I am tired non-acceptance
Snap decisions
Stubborn judgements
it's nothing personal
No, you made it personal
You stole a personality
Smeared it
Said it was wrong
Said I didn't belong.
So I wish we were square and blue
No stereotypes
No stigmas
No ***
cos maybe we don't deserve it yet.
If all we see are
pigment
genitals
and stereotypes.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 3:20 PM UTC
God help us, Imamu—stop playing the fool
as you babble unhinged in your kente hat.
Bebopping Mao is so very uncool;
what up wit dat ?
Flirtations with Castro (Fidel to the faithful)
and free Cuba Libres imbibed with the Beats
inflamed discontent when your verses turned wrathful
in the streets.
Predictable tirades where Whitey’s the foe,
attacking your hosts like an Afro/eccentric
gets old. It’s a stagnant unmusical show:
dull dialectic.
Who knows why the liberals that bankroll you love it?
Who cares what your most recent pseudonym is?
You old and you mad cause’ you can’t rise above it,
mired in the shizz.
Your lines are pure mannitol: dumbed-down *******
(The blow on the head by that riot-cop lingers!)
The syntax is whack in your ghetto refrain.
Snap fingers . . .
Still you wait for your war—or the Black Star-Liner . . .
Your rage was your royalty, paid in white money.
Your verse sought to give the right wing a dark shiner—
it’s not funny.
Insulting, belittling others more noble;
your legacy leaves nothing hopeful or witty
Just putrid black waters, the flow uncontrollable
under the city.
Inside of your Kabaa are yet many idols.
Your New Ark of verse did not save from the flood.
You mau-mau and bludgeon with words all your rivals
but draw no blood.
Lighten up, wise Imamu. Your age is soon closing.
You wrote for the stage and said some of it well.
But your verse has gone rotten and yields, decomposing,
a nasty smell.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 8:50 PM UTC
You were my brother.
My first best friend I could trust.
She told my secrets, I couldn't trust her.
I could trust you,
have fun with you,
be smart and nerdy with you.
I loved you.
I told you how I felt.
You told me how you felt.
Miscommunication and a bird talking in my ear
ruined us
I lashed out at you, you apologized.
Why didn't I realize?
Yes, you are my best friend. I'm sorry. Don't leave now.
You didn't leave.
High School
You barely speak to me.
I am now uncool.
You are above me.
You mock me to your friends behind my back.
I convince myself that you would never....
I loved you.... you wouldn't.... would you?
Senior Year
Your best friend mocks me
cyberbullies me
nearly kills me by my own self-inflicting hand.
But what is this?
You could have stopped him
But I wasn't worth your pride.
You couldn't tell him no.
So I nearly gave up my life
Out of self loathing.
You were my brother.
I loved you.
You wanted to love me.
Why did you do this.
**** you Benson. I have no brother. And no love for you.
May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 2:31 AM UTC