Best Banger Poems
My first car was green , red and black .
Part Nissan , Jeep and Cadillac .
When you pulled out the choke
The boot filled with smoke
Flames farting straight out the back .
I called it my old Batmobile
Made of plastic , old planks and steel .
It was loved by weird gooks
And Hazardy Dukes
But with Babes , had little appeal .
For Chantelle's "Gas" contest ..
You seek acceptance from a posse of thugs; you have done every-
thing with them including sell drugs.
You’re fighting for streets that aren’t even yours; many friends are
gone from all of the wars.
These are wars that can’t be won; can anyone remain standing when all
is said and done?
The cycle of violence never ends; sooner or later you’ll run out of
friends.
Do you really believe that they are your friends? You look at me and
say: “well that all depends.”
Would they visit you if you were incarcerated? Their true allegiance to
you would be demonstrated.
When you’re incarcerated you will be on your own; they won’t even call
you on the telephone!
If you were killed they wouldn’t even pay their respects; you can see
how much loyalty for you that reflects!
They would pour out some liquor for their fallen comrade; you truly
have potential so it would really be sad.
Listen to these words from an Educated Poet; I’m telling the truth and
I am sure that you know it.
Yesterday your Posse took out someone’s brother; you said: “well
he shouldn’t have wore the wrong color!.”
Maybe they took him out for being in your hood; whatever the reason it
was definitely not good.
It’s so easy for you to take someone out; but you don’t even know
what life’s all about.
If you want a war you can join the Army; go to Iraq and be all
you can be!
Get out of the gang before it’s too late; even if you have to move from
your state.
You say you're hoping to be around for a while; I suggest you give up that
“Gang Banger” life style.
Form:
Walked into a ruddy stop sign today
Damn thing's been there for eons
Concentration lately is all shot to hell
It's the looney bin for me e'er long
They'll lock me up this time for good
Probably it's best that they do
Before I do some irreparable damage
And I wind up royally screwed
Thought I had things under control
Wear underwear most every day
But at times I'm known to wander off
Police bring me back when I stray
Bumping into things ain't a good sign
Quite famous all over the town
Forgetting to zip up after having a pee
Or even forgetting to zip down
So sad an ending to a productive life
Babbling to myself as I drool
But the friends I talk to inside my head
Understand me and think I'm cool!
© Jack Ellison 2015
Walked into a ruddy stop sign today
Damn thing's been there for eons
Concentration lately is all shot to hell
It's the looney bin for me e'er long
They'll lock me up this time for good
Probably it's best that they do
Before I do some irreparable damage
And I wind up royally screwed
Thought I had things under control
Wear underwear most every day
But at times I'm known to wander off
Police bring me back when I stray
Bumping into things ain't a good sign
Quite famous all over the town
Forgetting to zip up after having a pee
Or even forgetting to zip down
So sad an ending to a productive life
Babbling to myself as I drool
But the friends I talk to inside my head
Understand me and think I'm cool!
© Jack Ellison 2013
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we love to stump
jump and booty hump
our sound
is surround get down
some or funky soul
but gold singer
we are
DISCO BANGER
The President just stopped for gas
Deep in the heart of Breakwind Pass
The booming echo
Sent GEICO's gecko
California to Maine First Class
A woodpecker, banging its head on the bark of oak tree as it feeds
Date written and posted: 06/23/2018
Me? Corny?
No.
But...
...
...
I dream that I could go to war
simply so a picture of her is nestled
in my top shirt pocket
at all times.
I'm still not corny, man.
But...
...
...
I fill my mind with thoughts of entering Noah's ark with
her for a (150 day) date
Hand in hand
As a pair of anteaters
(makes long-distance kissing easier)
I'm still not corny.
But...
...
...
I sometimes hope that I need a blood transfusion from
her every 42 days so that I can always have
a piece of her
with me
at all times.
I'm not corny.
But...
...
...
But everyday,
Without fail
I pray that one day at the ripe age of 70
I could
herd my grandchildren around my chair so
I could
explain every little thing that she did that
would humble even Frane Selak,
Only for her to come in and yell
"You left the dishes, again"
in that hypnotizing voice that I know all too
well to which we all will erupt in laughter
and-and-and....
Ok.
I'm corny.
Damn it.
Eating to satiate hunger
Half a meal filling no belly banger