Best Poser Poems
Now you feel so bright yea you feel so strong
but did you know that I knew you all along
that you were faking, (poo)-taking, halfbaking all that weed that you were making
When you gonna give it up?
No no no no can't get enough
The fad says you can't give it up
no no no it's just a scheme, throw that (poo) up
Your listening to reggae in your pad
oh what, like I care if this song makes you mad
when I call you out on your (poo), just quit, but instead you take another hit
When you gonna give it up?
No no no no can't get enough
Ska music ain't about smoking green
no no no but you think it makes the scene
(trombone and sax lines)
(slow crisp upstroke)
Smoked it all away again. Smoked your life away
Smoked it all away again. Smoked your life away
(Back to original 3rd wave punk)
Now you don't know (poo), yea you really lived it
But did you know that you were wrong, yea I knew it all along
That you were faking, (poo)-taking, halfbaking all that weed that's got you flaking
King Herod was such a big dummy
For armies must march on their tummy
Why would he crucify
A "FREE FOOD & WINE" guy
Who could make Army chow quite yummy?
show no disrespect
owning it
miss signing 13
MagiCicada13
Inspired by Nina's Mischief Contest
So you think you can beat me?
You might as well just flee.
All I do is rhyme.
You can’t earn you a dime.
Delusional, you must be.
My rhymes overpower.
You run and you cower.
I spit bars.
Write your memoirs,
Cause you’re rhymes are sour.
This battle is over.
You’re rhyming skills are lower.
But don’t be mad,
I had this in the bag.
You’re just a hack and a poser.
An aabba rhyme scheme. The bb lines (third and fourth) of each stanza should be read twice as fast as the other lines, as if they were one line split in two.
4/17/18
For "So You Think You Can Rhyme" Contest
Sponsored by FJ Thomas
I would love feedback in the comments below.
Like always, THANKS FOR READING!!!
The basket of Easter stars has arrived.
Okay, the poser Easter bunnies said.
We can be there shortly.
They envisioned divvying up the Easter stars.
Six for one, seven for the other.
While they were picturing their loot,
The real Easter bunny picked up the entire basket.
Taking all thirteen stars, as was his due.
When the poser bunnies arrived they found a poser basket.
These are not the true Easter stars! One of them said.
Poser bunnies, poser stars, said the Easter elf.
She knew if she could pull this off, she would be the best
Pharaoh Ancient Egypt had ever seen, it was her utmost quest.
You need to hide the fact that you are female her daddy said.
If a servant finds out, it must be off with his all-knowing head!
You must look regal at all times, and use your deepest meow.
Be haughty and healthy, and grimace when one makes a bad bow.
Phillistine the Poser Pharaoh wanted to make them both proud.
She gave them a lion’s roar, only a big bit more loud.
Not that her dad cautioned. They’ll know you are overcompensating.
You will constantly be under their eyes; they will always be rating.
Just be yourself, her mother assured the oldest of her latest litter.
She was surely that, being a self-confident aware-of-herself critter.
She walked into great hall, dressed in her daddy’s ropes with scepter.
Gasps surrounded her as she walked past her best friend Hector.
He was transfixed by transformation of her, this their newest king.
He did not reveal her secret. She felt a joy that made her want to sing.
When I close my eyes, I see a lonely girl,
One that is desperate to belong some where in this world,
Aching for approval from any and everyone,
falling short of her own expectations,leaving her life left undone,
The mirror reflects an image that she hates,
Her outside shows a portrait that she creates,
A manufactured smile completes the illusion nicely,
Poised and proper, she pulls off happiness precisely,
No one sees the darkness inside,
No one feels the guilt that won't subside,
She opens her mouth, but cannot find her words,
The voice inside is begging to be heard,
I open my eyes to an absolute hush,
She knows that I am the only one she can trust.
He is a poser Irish I said. Freckles probably painted on.
I don’t think so replied my great great aunt Dawn.
I bet he’s not got a drop of Irish blood, I said.
When I learned the truth my face turned red.
His grandpa was a McDoogle on one side of the tree.
The other grandpa was christened Sean McCaffrey.
His grandmother had been a Hennessey on his mom’s side.
McDonald was the name of his paternal grandpa’s bride.
I stand corrected I said. Please don’t say anything to him.
Why in the world did they name him something plain like Jim?
Top of the morning to you, James said, as he came into view.
I served him some shepherd pie, and some Irish beef stew.