part in the worlds rituals
Cant get ahead the struggle is unbelievable
Satanic worshiping being spewed by the masses
The industry is full of em
Thanking God for their talent(less) blasphemy
And you suckers just lemmings giving demons amnesty
Wake up Spread...
but sometimes it seems like the rule.
it's never easy, but not very hard;
you make your gains by the yard,
carrying on an internal duel.
sometimes it's trench warfare though;
you're stuck there with nowhere to go.
there's no facilitating;
it's just debilitating...
if I did I'd write an essay.
poems are fun
for a party of one,
when all he wants is to play.
we've somehow lost poetry's place;
it's almost gone, and with it all trace
of having fun with words.
they'd rather teach about surds,
and all of that math stuff you just couldn't...
or callin on the phone askin for a couple bags she has no money so she lays on her back as her boyfriends oblivious to where she's really at gone all hours whether day or night askin where she's been is gonna start a fight lookin in your eyes knowin in your heart she's tellin u...
Life doesn't treat us all the same.
It's not a joke; it's not a game,
But still I'm happy that I came.
I tell my stories, laugh and flirt.
I listen to the tales of hurt,
The lives drawn harshly through the dirt.
Anonymous, they trust in me
To keep their secrets, hear...
I'd like to know you hold my hand,
but I look out and see the sword
that rules this Promised Land.
I'd like to think you'll hold me, Lord;
I'd like to feel you stand with me,
but I look out and hear the Word
used as an enemy.
I'd like to know you have me, Lord,
loves you with a gangster kiss.
the fact that we will all be dead
is something that need not be said,
for life is but a one-way street
no matter how you plant your feet.
it pushes you toward the end
then tries to pull you back again.
no future and no past endure;
the present is...
span time,travel in and out of space, esoteric mind inertwind with every organisem ever made, it never ends its a cycle when you die you will reach a higher stage,the universus ebb and flow,black holes devour and create, been trough hades met osiris, living virus prophecised by...
And interrupted fish at school.
They turned their tails and swam away
To find another place to play.
The water rippled in its place,
But ripples leave without a trace.
The stone hits bottom, lying still,
As though it has some time to kill.
The fish return, retake the spot...
I believe, if not mistaken,
that it's still a little rhyme
that I wrote in my spare time,
which, every day, begins when I awaken.
I don't have that much to do,
just a little thing or two;
then I pick up on my notebook
as it grabs me like a boathook,
and I fill it up with...
as I hope will be demonstrated here :))
The New Pen
I bought a pack of new pens today.
I picked one out and asked, "Whaddaya say?"
The pen looked up from my hand with a grin
And said, "To get something out ya gotta put something in."
So I bit my nails and I wracked my brain...
which ties my hands at some times.
it's what I can give 'em
'cause I murder the rhythm,
and you gotta leave room for a couple of crimes.
it's spoken English I want to be using,
otherwise it's too confusing.
the great poets can do that,
and I take off my hat,
but I think...
as I felt the might of bisons through me
And the ice in eyes when they try describe to me
Don't try to fight I'd like to rise I guess the sky looks roomy
I slice and dice my life like it's disguised haloumi
Truth will try but truth will frighten so lies are blooming
such mania and drive
since my residence days, in nineteen sixty-five.
back then it was all broken heart;
this time it's a non-smoking start.
either way, it makes me feel more alive.
I wish I could turn it off and on;
it's something I can't depend upon.
but life just isn't like...
you get one;
that's how this system's run.
it's a basic freedom:
starve 'em when you don't need 'em.
it could almost get to be fun.
as sad as it seems to be,
most people aren't even near being free.
they'll never have the bucks
to get past the part where it sucks.
first myself.then lyrically.somethin flows through me . spiritually i am a portal. &a meer mortal.a man who can spit lyrics i ain't yet even thought of. i kinda sort of switch my mind off. let tha words caskade from my lips they seem to drip&drop off.i can't ever quit coz as soon...
peacekeeping is Canada's place in the debate
in countries we don't understand.
why not just give refugees a hand?
Canada's approach isn't even third-rate.
I'm so pissed at the Tories I can hardly speak,
as I watch the insanity they're pulling this week.
im an ill rhymer.youngster with an older mind i.let the beat run.then my flow is fluid.on my block i am the new kid.when i spit lyrics.people either are amazed or they call me weird and stupid.but i continue through it.coz its a gift i got.tha curse is the fact i never know when...
with first a tie between the rest.
if there was a third out there,
second wouldn`t fill me with despair.
at least I passed the test.
girls will call me second-rate
after we have our first date.
you had to pay for dinner;
does that make me a sinner?
you left that hotdog on your...
I had other things to do:
wash my hair and wax the car,
meet my buddies at the bar.
now, why don't we just go and sc***.
I thought it was a good suggestion;
why do you always have to question
every thing I have to say,
when we could go to bed and play?
babe, you give me...