Best Filed Poems
Note: These "Freestyles Filed" are pieces quickly written, with a time limit for each line and no editing. Similar to freestyle raps but instead straight onto paper.
** FREESTYLES FILED ** 01 **
Multiple personalities flourish positively onto my paper,
Like vapor I sometimes try to escape and disappear,
But the glare from the light is near while my mind appears,
Steered by forces deployed to mend through what’s written by this pen,
Now my imagination is open to intuition,
Diminishing old ways that I don’t want to stay,
Hopefully I hope, because the only way is hard to play in this world wide monopoly,
Leaving properly is only done consciously while hearing divine rhymes that kiss the heart with awareness,
Knowing super bliss will never be achieved in this lifetime because of no collective oneness,
Put to rest beliefs like this, they miss the target so minds starve of what’s needed,
So read this over and over, understand most minds are frozen,
Unaware on cruise control with no actual higher movement,
Bent over with heads in the sand speaking unintelligent rants, small like ants,
Instead grow like a plant, exhale a breath and confess our perceptions have been dressed by the unaddressed,
Best known by their actions causing mess,
Everywhere in this game of chess blessed by upheaval of the devil,
Minds driven by devilish drives of desire that are opposite to higher learning,
Overturning false truths seeing actuality in a reality that acts like a virus,
I see this, live within this, understand this!
Quincy Mac
Date Written: 24.5.2016
Note: These "Freestyles Filed" are pieces quickly written, with a time limit for each line and no editing. Similar to freestyle raps but instead straight onto paper.
** FREESTYLES FILED ** 02 **
Leaving fingerprints within your psyche,
Fighting within realms of knowledge where insight is sound,
Going all the way knocking you down in the twelfth round,
Founding freestyles filed with Illmatic style of abounded wealth,
Stealthy quick fixes distinct only to observers with higher health,
From my minds mouth housed within the finest gold known,
Growing rapidly while being watered by the highest taught lords,
Not of this world but others that progress forward,
With double edge swords that penetrate all states of mind,
Gliding with almighty sight through dimensions of layered existence,
Instantly guided by guides thousands of years old who never sold out,
There to help those dealt the card of longing to know and it shows by their knocking,
Knock on the door of thoughts that answer but perception can get in the way,
Mindful of how everything is laid out as days pass with the sun rising each day,
So like a child I play with my favorite toys, words because they can’t be destroyed,
As I watch my reflection grow within my boy I shape my characteristics,
Studying writings like ballistics I fire bullets that hit targets,
Fast and explosive like a bomb strong enough to break the largest and toughest spirits,
You heard it, from this pen living in times cursed because of what’s being taught and learnt.
Quincy Mac
Date Written: 25.5.2016
So You Haven’t Filed Your Income Tax Yet
By Elton Camp
You don’t want penalties cause it’s late
So why or why did you procrastinate
“I will do it for sure tomorrow,” you say
But tomorrow you wait yet another day
There is a good chance a refund is due
But until you file, it won’t come to you
But now it has gotten down to the wire
It’s even too late H & R Block to hire
All of your records you pile on the table
Must do it now even if you don’t feel able
“Find the lesser amount of line twenty-two”
And then you must decide what have to do
For an especially hot corner of hell you hope
For who wrote these instructions—the dope!
Must they be complicated in what they say
Surely there must be a much simpler way
“I’ll print 1040 from online,” you think
Only to find the printer’s out of ink
Too late, you find you’re missing a form W-2
Now what in the world are you going to do
So let this teach a valuable lesson this year
File taxes early and there’s naught to fear
I decided years ago, never an idiot to be
For this same thing has happened to me
Night Light
David J Walker
By night
In flight
You can see the lights that
Blink and shine on the
City of the Mesa
Hundreds of thousands crowd
The borders and boundaries of
The out-of-date asphalt plat
Where farm and field
Yield
to the plans of the
City planners
Pushing the planters
Further south by southwest
Where Builders
In hot pursuit bring
cash and call
For more of the plowed furrows
To fall to the
Developments growing the City
Give us this day
Our daily bread
Give us our water
As precious as blood
Flood the flat plain
With the prayed for rain
Washing both
thirst and sin
away
By night
In flight
You can plainly see
What you can’t seen
In daylight
The tell me the waters of the sea
Are little children's tears
The rivers that flowed from me
And victims of forgotten years
In little dark corners shaking
Hungry and starved for light
Bodies bruised and minds aching
Injuries covered from the sight
Today I am going to the seaside
I shall build new castles there
To see what those tears deride
And why our land is ever bare.
The old soldier, rheumy eyed and cold
Sits at attention in his wheelchair
Bemedalled chest heaving gently
Thinks of comrades not there.
Now just bones in cemeteries
Some not even identified
anonymous bodies collected
From where they died
To be laid in the rows and lines
Of the parade square of the dead.
Names and faces and words
Scroll through his aching head
There is guilt in his memories
Still felt at being a alive,
Wonders what random factor
Selected him to survive.
The bugler sounds Last Post
The notes swirling round and gone
The annual tribute publicly paid
By those who survived to live on.
They toast him in the mess and for
A little while the present and past
Mix in a tableau
With a military cast.
The old soldier relaxes.
The young soldier wheels him away.
Another year lived and past
Since the last Remembrance Day.
Bemedalled chest heaving gently
The old soldier, rheumy eyed and cold
Waits to be returned and refiled
In his home for the near forgotten old