Best Urbanme Poems
I'm the livest survivalest
Some say I did it to death.
I feel like I'm taking my first breaths,
on this blessed quest.
Down south it's heating up.
Fire is burning.
With this knowledge I'm striving so much hire.
Prepared to earn more than ten armies require.
I'm the flyest, wildest, livest, survivalest.
Several times the devil tried to buy this.
He might as well call it quits.
This country boy aint selling it.
The ladder of hope.
I could float to the top,
Alone on these tears of promise.
Forget Osama and Obama,
we don't need no more drama.
Slinging these stones,
if definitely crippling,
its got me questioning
everything...
From all lifes lessons
Good, better, bestest
Every piece is the one
that will carry me the restest.
Far from settling.
Even when I'm at the top
I will continue my quest
for a higher notch
Between now and then
forward progress will never stop.
not till I take that
six foot drop
Persistently, persuing, perfection.
Never let it rest,
Till your good is better,
and your better is your bestest.
I'm the flyest, wildest, livest, survivalest
several times the devil tried to buy this
he might as well call it quits
cause I'm not selling it.
Enjoying the little things in life.
Always thankful for what I've got.
Never worried bout what's not
when he calls I'll be in the perfect spot.
Always's grateful, but my searching hasn't quite stopped.
Hurrying, but not rushing.
Rung after rung...
Mind racing, steadily pacing, my way,
rung after rung...
Feet shuffling, honestly hustling, positively bustling,
from time to time,
Shucking and jiving, persistently striving, and climbing my way
back to the top.
Rung after rung, rung after rung...
Facedown on the carpet I just knew that I would die,
the red obscures my vision as the blood dripped in
my eye,
I never saw it coming, tell me, how could I have
slipped? But let me back it up a bit and tell you bout
my trip.
My mother was the type who gave me food but fed
me lies, the woman gave me life October 5th of '85,
while growing up I always knew that something was
amiss, my 16th birthday's when I found out true lies
do exist.
October 2K1 my goodness, it was such a time, I
lived my life the 'seat of pants' way, out there runnin
wild,
my b-day gift from Uncle Sal which I was blown
away, a nickel plated 22 he called a 'throw away'.
Mom Dukes was straight addicted to a lithany of
drugs, my father died absorbing quite a lithany of
slugs,
I thirsted for the streets and no amount of love could
quench, to now possess a firearm, it all now
seemed a cinch.
I had some people over to the crib to celebrate, my
little cuzzo Pop and plus my homies Rell and Nate,
we had the PS2 because that Madden game was
heat, you know how things occur sometimes when
you expect it least?
It seems that day my mother really snorted up some
blow, she had assorted stains of snow which
showed around her nose,
when Moms got high the sky could fall and she just
wouldn't know, she also had a case of real loose
lips because of coke.
Now everyone was chillin, plenty happy times for all,
then Moms approached my Uncle Sal, the rising of
my fall,
she then just spoke out loud enough for everyone to
hear, 'Why don't you claim your son right now while
everyone is here? !
The music stopped and pinheads dropped I'm
thinkin who the F? Now cheery Sal with teary smile
embraced me to his chest,
'I'm sorry it was done this way but yes there's
sumthin true, I have 2 sons see Pop is 1, the other 1
is you'
I fainted, dropped my brew and don't know what I'm
gonna do.......
To Be Continued......
I'm not afraid of jail
I'm not afriad of Hell
Im comfortable at home
As well in a cell
Disregard for every rule
Nickname me cruel
A.K.A. crazy
My rage never gets lazy
Is it obvious I'm so immersed in hatred
I have some sympathy inside me but nowhere permanent to place it
Lets face it
Im a rolling stone
Bad like Michael Jackson(R.I.P.)
Bad to the bone
I think the devil fears me
I know He hears me
Eyes dry like the desert
So I don't get teary
That's probably why ghosts won't come near me
I chase down them zombies
They trudge away in fear but won't get away from me
I'm that evil
Yea that evil
Words cut like a knife
Yes sir my poems cleave you
Law enforcement doesn't deserve respect
Authority assassin
Watch closely as I grasp the FBI by the neck
People get so curious
As to why I'm so furious
Then they start to question about my rage's secret weapen
R.A.G.E. stands for Richard Always Get Even
This is way beyond realization
Beyond believin
I was bred this way
Anger entered my home with intentions to forever stay
It's ok
Because as far as I can remember glee and joy was scarce
A rarity
I used the rest of my happiness so I donated it to charity
As for dyin I'll be content to meet my maker
No love for any being
Girls call me heartbreaker
Guys call me headbreaker
Make them all pay for leaving me
How could this be
Which is worst: Being stranded
Or being abandoned
Maybe I'm just both
In-between
Pure mean
Go to either heaven or hell and do a one-man raid
I'm not afraid
Because I'm a thug, outlaw, infamous
In the funky train,
All the hoo-ha-noisy end in fisticuff;
As the crumpled greenback hand-out cough,
The law has nothing to handcuff,
Maneuvering on the sloppy storey hill
A frantic dance of dead-drunk crazy masquerade;
Man-handling the dare-devil by weary drenched soaked in
talisman man,
Springs from a ream hole in the floor
Hand-shuffling on long iron pole gear,
Wrestling with reckless white knuckles of steering wheel;
A nipple for torch-light knob looking tough headlamps,
A bare-face speedometer, a mare decor;
Rear is bare, except fanning out putrid fart in
defecating vulva;
And a pumping brake failure refused to catch,
Disaster looms down a glitch away,
Marijuana induced braggarts, bang at the battered dent
body;
All acted in the climatic anti-climax role in the tragic
play,
As horn and side mirrors, villains make do,
Ghastly farewell garland to stranded passengers on
departure;
Welcome to hellish shore of grimacing dismember carcasses,
From the extinct scratched my backside please dense
Bolekaja view,
Stigmatized masses muck arranged tight,
File in wooden slavery mule;
And the pompous promise land looks a light years away,
Now on the garish cold rusted cut steel,
Buttocks crammed on planks for seats;
Knees folded to gangrene stroke roost,
Pillaged and pilloried, rasped and gasped for a slice bread
of life,
Staled sweats seeped and poured decayed stench on forms;
***** squeezed queued on narrow alley,
Romancing buttocks swell sips to bursting through;
And the lushing rhythmic beating drum
Re-enters lock and brake,
Dilepa dilepa dilepa duro nube o!
Omokunrin kan ti daran nube o!
Ofowo kanmi loyan me solo!
ofowo kanmi nidi me solo!
Toku toku lona nkan boyi o!
Komo ipe kolokolo lahere wa!
Penny for your ino-'cents'
Lure you to the dark side
Take a wiff off ecstasy
While I hook you like a kipper
I sell it easy, Sweetness,
You will not know you're buying
Until you're sitting in my palm
A-begging for some more
Look me in the eye, FreshMeat
Swear to me you're had enough
And I will laugh, pure mockery
Your words aren't worth a damn thing when actions scream out their consent
Your mind is like my instrument
I'll play until the strings snap clean
You say "no", but it says "go"
You scream "Stop, don't" it cries "DON'T STOP!"
You seem upset and ragged, down
Let me remind you how I won..
You took the rope... you bound your limbs
Said, "Just one hit? Won't hurt a bit."
Hurt much?
hurt much.....
..........hurtmuch
Oh, I bet it do
This northern city with headlights-eyes
Has buried me in its cold and gloom;
You'll see this place in a dreadful guise
And once sweet home will seem a tomb
Once you're aware there's no way out,
Once dreams of youth say goodbye and grin.
It goes farther and makes me doubt
In all the things I have ever seen.
Its blood has turned into ice and snow -
It's endless winter in every heart.
The winds of grief never cease to blow,
The art of grief is the greatest art.
And once in this cradle of dirt and despair
A wandering stranger demanded my mind.
He asked me about this damned northern air
I'd better not breathe - I would leave it behind.
He said: "I'm in love with this misery, miss.
Destruction is right what we need to create.
True art is in grief, I've been dreaming of this.
My yesterday's fortune's tomorrow's fate.
I know all secrets my destiny knows,
So this boring dwelling won't be a surprise".
I thought: "He's my twin, and it clearly shows".
That evening he opened my widely shut eyes.
A perfect stranger has built a wall
To be a shield from this gloom and lies,
From endless rains of this city's gall
That falls on me from the shattered skies.
The wave of feelings can warm the days
Of dull existence in Bitterland
And melt the ice in this rotten place,
In every heart that it's due to mend.
This northern city with headlights-eyes
Has turned us down in its nasty voice
And... brought together. We've paid the price
Of fate to fortune. We've made the choice.
Pain is not love’s enemy
As I’ve constant-ly believed
They’re brothers. They’re, Fratelli
Where one resides, the other strives
Oh, what a dream it was to think,
That our ol’ cruise ship will not sink
The pretty clouds I floated on
Were laced with pins and things so sharp
Sharp enough to pierce the dream, that it could be reality
How was I to know you weren’t, that angel you professed to be?
How was I to stop myself, you were my pre-cise ecstasy?
My lesson’s learnt, now, Casanova.
Thought-that you-could turn me over?
Oh no.
No, no no.
You fooled me once so shame on you
Your beauty was an ugly thing
A snare produced for fools like me
And, those eyes...
Mmmm... that voice.
If honey could speak, you’d be it. Hands down
Sweet, sultry serenade,
Fairest features ever made.
You were such a masterpiece.
A Monet, if you please
Master of disguise, oh yes
I should commend your flawless lies,
They had me twisted round your pinky
Glad that I now know you baby.
Read your book from, ah back to front.
Next time that-I see your face, I’ll see the snarling, stalking thing
The thing that led me down this lane.
The thing that tuned my love to pain
Busy square around me sucking me inside
Keeping me from seeing what's on the outside
Building shell surrounds me squared off like a hide
Standing on a corner; a square; a block; that's wide
Quilted district patterns are mapped across the land
while larger squares protruding shows zoning had a hand
Suburbs of the city squaring boundaries they have spanned
When all that's left are gullies squared by nature that are fanned.
as i roam my city streets i hear gunshots rein
i see junkies in search of crack it's an everyday thang.
standing on the corner begging for change at the store
chasin the first high they had once before.
gangbangers keep the hood hot with the foolishness they bring
most can't take the heat so to the feds they sing.
don't do the crime if you can't do the time
this is my report from these streets of mine.
from my eyes to the paper from the paper to the screen
this is my report of what i have seen.
police ride constantly through the hood in search of crooks
i guess i fit the description so at me they look.
harass me for no reason so they must let me go
should i act a fool this time i say no.
though i deal with problems of all sorts
i stuck to the topic which was my hood report.
I love to sit on it,
And ride without a saddle.
It’s stronger than a stallion.
Riding it makes me sweat all over,
Especially down under in my Australia.
I curse often about how my down under
Feels when I bounce and pounce on the dark horse.
The owner often grunts, curses, calls me names,
And forces me to ride harder with no remorse.
I love such torture.
I love to feel it slide as I glide sloppily,
On the dark horse that belongs to my daddy.
My boobs bounce like basketballs
While I lie on top sideways or sit up so tall.
Daddy sucks and bites my morsels
While he dunks my rear,
Up and down,
Like an Oreo in milk,
On the horse you know.
I never want to get off,
Because it gets me off.
Having that strength poking me,
Feels heavenly.
I love to feel it slide as I glide sloppily,
On the dark horse that belongs to my daddy.
As I sit here thinking this couldn't be true, he hits me yet again.... I fear for my life and for
my unborn child. I see the anger building up slowly inside. I can't cry for he will beat me
harder if he sees the tears, so as I sit here getting hit over and over again falling are the
silent tears amongst him. I think of the life that I had before I went back to the Thug Life.
Where Blood's were the big issue and everyone turned their head as they heard the verbal
abuse that he puts me through. Control is his goal and he had just that. Stripping me of my
dignity and humility. God please let this all be a bad dream. I am just barely pregnant by
him and yet the way he hits me is like he don't care. Embarrassing me when his homies
come around, making me walk around in just a top as if I am just some trophy to place upon
his wall. So scared to write, so scared to tell, so the silent tears fall amongst him yet
unknown to him so that I don't get hit yet again. The simple thought of I must escape
crosses through my mind and as I leave I continue to hold my rosary in my hand praying to
God that if he just lets me get away, then I promise to do right and raise this baby through
him.... Yet as I still think back in fear the Silent tears fall amongst him as they shall continue
to do until I can break free of the fear.
Standing there, I'm looking at you stupidly. You are going on and on about how you are
going to take me out of this world, yet the blade moves no where. I should be scared but I
just have a notion to laugh. You are busy trying to fit in with your so called friends, that you
forgot that I am the only real friend you have got. You try to be tough just like all the rest
but when the night is done, its me you call to talk to when things go wrong. Yet here you are
with a blade at my throat whispering in my ear that you don't really wanna do this and that
you love me. I laugh and your grip gets tighter. I finally close my eyes and tell you just to go
what you gotta do. Suddenly you release me, ignoring your friends calling stuff out and beg
me for forgiveness. Friends are friends to the end. You mess up so that we can pick you back
up. That's what true friends are for, we are the real friends.
i’ll tell
you baby
what wanna do
I
----------
your
and if
wish…?
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have
i to tell ther
then you no lesson
well a
-----------
can
you tell almost any
me – thing,
----------
but if you’re not home? - you’re tellin
me lies.
----------
you
don’t tell
me -
Romping on the reptile,
Drives me wild.
Playing hide the lizard,
With you.
Cures me from the blues.
Ascending and descending
On your dark anaconda
Is a workout
Harder than video’s from
Jane Fonda.
Slicking your lizard
With my mouth or my cushy
Makes me know
That you’re no wussy
You’re a strong, sexy man
With my wanting tail in your hands
Guiding my tail up and down
Or stroking in and out
Hiding that lizard
Making my body shake, gyrate,
And swivel
Riding and romping the reptile
Certainly drives me wild.
I hear the sirens shrieking, screaming
Ailing, wailing out in pain
Their echoes loud through streets they crowd
And wonder why I’m not insane
Maybe I’m already accustomed
To this program in my brain
I hear them traveling, thrashing through
Fleeting, beating on like drums
It’s no surprise to hear their cries
Throughout these broken city slums
But still I dread their howling signals
As their urgent flaring comes
I hear them zoom, zealously zipping
Dashing, flashing without grief
To fill their call they do not stall
In their pursuit to catch a thief
Although they represent protection
Their shrill sounds bring no relief
I fear those alarms; angry, alert
Stopping, dropping by my door
With boys in blue and something new
For me to become panicked for
And so I listen as they pass me
Screaming sounds I can’t ignore