Best Spitter Poems
Always salty and usually bitter
help encourage the spitter —
still better than the wonts
and those dreaded donts —
saved by the tolerable quitter.
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Written: 05.08.21
Contest: Quitters Never Win
Sponsor: Margarita Lillico
Categories:
spitter, giving, humor, humorous, lust,
Form:
Limerick
I am not a poet
I am the truth spitter
Don’t call me Christian
Call me disciple of my own religion
I am not a prophet of words
I am the prophecy
I am the words
I am the future
Plant a seed in me
And look at how it grows
Love and pain do go together
Love, however, I am not
I am pain
I’m the sorrow of tomorrow
I’ll corrupt your good morals
Your sacred feelings I will borrow
Step on them and burn them
And then I will return them
I will make you black inside
Smoke and fire go together
Smoke, however I am not
I AM FIRE
I will turn to dust everything you got
I’m the sorrow of tomorrow
And I am coming for you soon
Categories:
spitter, dark,
Form:
Free verse
15 of them begin the emotional ritual attired in silk & sequens,
they maneuver miraculously one after another on burning coals glowing violet,
the dance steps are heartbeats, curved & compassionate, their majesty is inviolate,
their Art is to suffer for Hope wrought from the ribbon of Reality's casualties,
fifteen to infinity the ladies become shooting stars
lazered through a constellation collapsing into a single sphere of suspense,
the crowd claps, cymbals chyme and a sorcerer's symbols
rain in a fury of subconscious superstorm, confusing chaos
and charming candor as relics vouchsafed in this cosmic cavern,
the Eye of Providence appears annonymously, winking with Blessings
on the forehead of a girl crooning for Roman gifts of iron roses & opium doses
as she poses prettily on top of the Arch of the Covenant
where angels scorch alms and demons dine on delirium,
a flame spitter and sword swallower run to the forefront
as the music deepens within the skulls of saints,
they confront each other with pride, mortal misgivings alight in their eyes,
a contest between Altruism & Misanthropy,
which will prevail, fire or steel, which to survive, love or hate,
one gets stabbed, the other burned, wagers wave through the theater,
lots of chatter, banter & bravado, the wounded continue with character,
Innocence tries to exit but is not allowed by Wherewithal
as the two forces seem to be fatally struck
a curtain closes ceremoniously and all that remains,
endangered enlightenment echoes, and echoes like thunder
while a beautiful candle glows, not yet bent or spent
and everyone in attendance calms and knows,
in absence of love, nothing but misery can be achieved -
J.A.B.
Categories:
spitter, adventure,
Form:
Epic
American Lust
Rosewood
Black Hills
Wounded Knee
Chinese Massacre of 1871
Bloody Monday
The last black man shot
The first cop acquitted
The Chicago kid
that said "I'm wit' it"
The burnt flag
The spitter, the pisser,
the two that stood with
fist raised,
The ripper and Susan B. Anthonys
with needle and thread.
The soldier, the victim,
for those who cannot stand,
for bottled up passions that
often erupt into these
American Horror stories
always forgotten
For the guy with hands
raised and still blown away
Millionaires and billionaires;
for those without a nickel
to their name.
It isn't disrespect until it happens to you.
America the free, even
After all this time,
We still bleed
as if the Cavalry was
hootin and hollerin &
horses' hooves
a poundin'
pistols drawn
& women and children dyin'
Sit if you must
I ain't mad at you.
We all die
under
"In God we Trust"
Categories:
spitter, america, anti bullying, military,
Form:
Free verse
grey clouds
spitter spatter on
a wedding shower
Submitted on March 12, 2021 for contest ALL YOURS (MAR 14) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND
Originally posted on May 27, 2018
Categories:
spitter, dark, rain, wedding,
Form:
Haiku
Smoking spitter,
Hell is where is holiday,
We watch you stare us down,
Falling, but held in heaven's black old town,
Son of no father,
Father of everyone,
Is your kind of fire in my kind of heart?,
We are all born blind,
So do we all shine from the start?,
Sitting between the shine and shade,
Am I the "We" that you forbade?,
Watching you stare down,
Falling...
Still in heaven's black old town,
We just wait... for heaven's sundown,
We, as babies on the ground
Categories:
spitter, absence, father, heaven, nature,
Form:
While going to see a man about a horse Oh Susanna's don't tread on me but of course Little snake by any other name would be just as bitter piss and vinegar with forked tongue now who is the spitter Fighting without fighting within you named me Sioux like mustangs running freely they were brought too The deer the buffalo ran free they will again some allies some enemy but true is we are all kin The hearth of the matter to divide the seven stones conquering a fire of a people while scattering their bones
Categories:
spitter, change, corruption, culture, native
Form:
Couplet
Dinosaurs have always been cool.
They crawled, snarled and baited
and raped, and stole and the others.
We'll never know what they are
but Jurrassic Park was close.
remember the snarled acid spitter?
It hocked in Newman's face.
Categories:
spitter, funny, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
The Iceman the Bronx/Tony Adamo
I DIG THAT THE ICEMAN’S BACK, HITTING THE SPOKEN WORD STAGES IN THE BRONX AND THE OTHER BOROUGHS IN NEW YORK/AFTER ALL HE IS BORN AND BREAD IN DE BRONX/WORD SPITTER/ JAZZ SCATTER/GOT THE CITY TURNED ON IT’S LITERARY HEAD/AS THE ICEMAN WOULD SAY/ GOT TO REDUCE THE OTHER SPOKEN WORD ARTIST’S TO ASH BEFORE I DIE/ MR. B, THE BRONX BOMBER/THE BRO WHO EVERY ONE KNOWS/YOU CAN DIG THE CONGO STREET BEAT IN YOUR EARS THROUGH HIS WORDS/POPIN’ STORY TELLIN’ BREAK DANCIN’ JAZZY TURNTABLE BREAK DOWN OF WORD PLAY/MAN DIG THIS CAT’S FUSION OF JAZZ MUSIC PUT TO SPOKEN WORD POETRY/ HE LISTENS AND SAMPLES INTO HIS MIND HEAD/ THE GREAT JAZZ HORN PLAYERS SOLO’S TO BE TURNED INTO A SOUND SYNERGY OF JAZZY WORDS/ MAN ,I CAN DIG IT, THAT FLOW THE ICEMAN HAS/ FOR THE RHYTHMIC FEEL OF IMPROVISATION IN AND INBETWEEN WORDS/IS PURE WORD ART, CAN YOU DIG IT?/ ON SOME GIG’S/ICEMAN’S SPOKEN WORD JAZZ COMES OUT LIKE COLTRANE’S SOLO ON GIANT STEPS/ HIS GRAFFITI LACED VOICE INFLECTON ON CULTURE AND SOCIAL ISSUES/ WILL HAVE YOU COLLIDIN’ AND TURNIN’ YOUR THOUGHTS INTO GIANT STEPS/ ICEMAN ON THE DECK OF FREE THINKING JAZZ WORDS/A DJ WORD HIPSTER/ THE SPOKEN WORD KING OF THE BRONX/HE’S GOT THAT LYRICAL CONTROL AND NO CONTROL/ MAN, THAT’S WAY OUT/SYNCOPATED RHYTHMS DROP LIKE PAINTED WORDS SPRAYDED ON THE LEX AVE EXPRESS SUBWAY TRAIN/ HE’S NOT FAR FROM THE BEAT WORLD OF KEROUAC,GENSBERG, AND PHIL LAMANTIA/ BEAT POETS OF THE COUNTERCULTURAL MOVEMENTS OF THE 1960s/ MAYBE THE ICEMAN IS A SPOKEN WORD PLAYRIGHT OR A ABSTRACT PAINTER OF WORDS/ SO DIG THIS/HE’S NOT VINTAGE OR INDIE/ BUT WAY INTO TODAY AND TOMORROW AND GONE/DEEP IN THE CATACOMBS OF NEW YORK CITY’S SOUNDTRACK OF BLOOD ,SWEET, AND TEARS/YOU CAN CATCH HIS VIBE/ AIN’T NO WAY TO HOLD HIM BACK NOW/HIS SPOKEN WORD MUSIC DELIVERY JUMPS ON THE ELEMENTS AND COMBINES JAZZ, FUNK AND SOUL WORD TUNES/ TO LAY THE LISTENER OUT WITH HIS DISTINCTIVE WORD SPEAK, SPOKEN JUMPIN’ WORD/ HIS STORYTELLIN’ POETRY WILL BEND YOUR MIND/ THE ICEMAN BREATHS LIFE INTO THE SOUL OF THE SPOKEN WORD WORLD OF JAZZ SPEAK
Categories:
spitter, spoken word,
Form:
Spoken Word
Is Putin going Kaput
He has morbid losers look
Some Russian soldiers have had enough,
Of this slaughter and murder stuff
Whatever they were fighting for
They are weary, sick of war
They can no longer understand
Why they are fighting for a piece of land
A land where fellow Russian dwell
Putin has made a living hell
Putting his comrades at risk
Naughty Putin Tsk, Tsk, Tsk.
You deserve that worried frown,
You have let your country down
I don't think you will have a friend
When you meet your tragic end.
One thing that is becoming clear
There will be no winners here,
Win or lose: It was all for nil
I pray it's you who swallow the pill
The pill that tastes very bitter
And it makes you a dummy spitter!
Categories:
spitter, 10th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
Pour fourth your tranquility
Show us Your endless glee
You're just like a key...
Unlocking me free
From captivity...closing in on me
Shred me like paper... my emotions rip me apart...
As...if...
I had no point of existing...
I'd love to socialize here...
But I feel so tarnished
Tattered deep inside
My emotions
Swallow me alive
Like a dark, mystical tide
Pour me into His delightful cup,
Oh GOD! Give me
The strength to lift up my fist
Shred me like paper... my life doesn't matter
You make me cry tears of remorse...
Hear it spitter-spatter
Upon your rooftops...I wish I could mend your sores
The emotions cling on to me...
Always by my side
I wish it would...just...
Subside. . .
For they always beg for me
To go on a bumpy ride...
Sorry...I'd rather hide
And seek God's tranquility...
I'll remain by His side
Hopefully...I'm not denied
My future ride
Has arrived
Categories:
spitter, absence, angst, beautiful, beauty,
Form:
Free verse
Bitter black coffee and piping hot tea
Sit a-steaming and a-boiling just for me.
The java spits and sputters, and mutters in its wrath;
The yellow shrieks and bellows out of its kettle's mouth.
Spitter sputter, sput spit, whoo whoo whee!
Better bitter black coffee and piping hot tea
When the winter nights are raving
And the snowflakes are a-sailing,
Than ice-cream and candybars
Under a summer night's bright stars.
Categories:
spitter, life
Form:
Light Verse
The people’s choice
ain’t always the right footstool fit
Crown a throne sitter
with electric glam fanfare
Light the bright Roman candles
for a cancer stick spitter ...
See the fireworks in the air:
Inter
Continental
Ballistic
Missives
got voter arm drone sent
Cheek chicanery
is puffing pride hellbent
The home plate people say,
they know how to get around third base
The silent majority
whistle kicked a ballot bray:
Said they know how to rule and regulate
Mute mules got a gut promise packet
burst in their purse belly
White powder vows telly
is a politrician mix: Rublecon racket
Dressed to deceive,
they wear the gorgeous mink sable
Eyes often believe
spit paid broadcast signal on cable
Raw mink voltage
is copper wire insular selectable
Red carpet dotage
give Venus fly idol cries
to the froggy princes they chose
If the cold iron velvet glove
fits tight rightly on the bow hand
Send the poison arrow love
into bent hearts prone to knelling
Categories:
spitter, metaphor, perspective, political, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
dabbled duo —
tan toes spitter spatter sand...
Pollock’s mermaid splash...
impressionist spitfire dart
procreates in windward minds...
12/23/2020
Categories:
spitter, art, imagery,
Form:
Tanka
The media wanted to me be everything but this
a lyrical spitter or how they address you as someone
who's artisitic a "Poet"
but am I posing or am I the real deal
today could be my last meal
so it's similar to the last supper
so everytime I eat
I say a prayer for all my lost sista's & brothers
or the dead beat fathers, single mothers
and for the men & women that got H.I.V.
for deciding this time not to use a rubber
this is life this is the way it is
where kids grow up before they want to
and niggas gotta rob for food
not cause they want but because
they have to
this is the world as I see it
he 1st believed in me so I believe in him because
he continues to be with me
even though I'm still living in sin
and I can't pretend like I don't know who he is
the savior has risen I'm living proof
that Jesus Christ lives
and this right here is real life
where niggas got wives but still
be hooking up wit crossing dressing niggas
and females is doing life cause they killed a nigga
where these lil niggas nowadays
got itchy trigga fingers
and females blame niggas why
they so bi curious
this is the world as I see it
just another lost child up for adoption
misery loves company
but I don't say a word
I just watch & pray
as this world crumbles peice by peice
I eagerly wait for my day of
eternal sleep
Categories:
spitter, lifelife, me, world, lost,
Form:
Free verse