OLD SKOOL FOREVER
Needle drops/
dust rises from the ghost in the turntable groove/
Intro hits hard/ then the bassline thumps on your chest/
The move is old skool ’n’ raw with lo-fi beats that will jack your jaw/
Drums cracked like thunder/
Popin' drum machine is mixed under/
Rare underground jewels pulled up from crates of old skool wonder/
Boom bap soul beat, truth in the snare/
Street-corner poetry hanging in the air/
From Dre and Snoop to Pun and Fat Joe, Legends lit the path, where rare 90's hip-hop mixtapes go/
Obscure tracks spin in underground pop-up hip hop shows/
Mainstream kings, underground lords/
Sharp-cut samples and lyrical swords/
No plastic shine/just rhythm and soul/ that brings back the essence of real underground Hip Hop blow/
Classic beats making broken nights whole/
DJ Smokin' Joe Keep ’em coming/pure heat to their dancin' feet/
No disguise, trends may fade and die/
but the culture survives. Hands to the sky, let the whole world know—Real hip-hop and old skool never dies/
The pendulous drop
At the tip of blade
Lucid and aglow
As a rich hued pearl
Same as the nose stud
Of my cute lady
Golden fantasy
Crispy like a falling leaf
Waits for a new birth
A white tear bled from the foil seam,
a cold, lactic rot sliding down her woven leather heel,
drawing a pale, sour map across her instep.
I watched the porcelain skin of her shoe drink the milk,
and in that quiet curdling, my entire small frame snapped.
A choir of jagged iron shrieked beneath my skull,
tearing through the bone and behind my eyes:
a ruined child deserves no sun.
I did not wait for any reflex.
I dragged myself by the throat,
spat curses into my own ears,
and ran.
I bolted past the garden gate,
past the tall, unbothered grass,
my bare feet slapping the dirt in a rhythm of
self - contempt and fault.
In the damp dark behind the compost heap,
I pressed my face into the stinging nettles,
scraping my knees against the jagged limestone,
offering my own raw, bleeding shins to the air
to pay the debt for what I had done
praying the earth would swallow the wretched thing I was.
Chi Chi Rodriguez made golf fun to watch
He’d sink a crucial putt
Then throw his hat down over the hole
and do a spirited dance around it
A smile overspread his face
a silent tune flowed through his veins
His dance inspired fans to cast off their inhibitions
and join him in joy unrivaled
Taking a sport of fiercely guarded emotions
blowing it wide-open
laughing in the tense face of tradition
37 Tournaments wins
First Puerto-Rican inducted into Golf’s Hall of Fame
~ put his uptight compadres to shame
Drop everything everything
Drop everything everything
Drop everything everything
Stop, don’t do anything
And listen to my heart beat
Listen as our souls meet
Drop everything
Let our love sing
Out of tune but with melody
Out of time for the remedy
So
Drop everything everything
Stop, don’t say anything
But
I love you
Pin drop silence
Maybe am tone deaf
They have no licence
Causing me more grief
My cup, my bag's full
Couldn't give a hoot
O'er my eyes wool to pull
Adjusting my suit
Waxing hot and cold
Eloquent then mute
They join the fold
Down the ol route
Joints and tendons ache
Water works partly block
Teeth; gums you forsake
In the mix, the odd rock
Nobody prepares you
Suddenly, the decline
Friends not foes, few
You want to only recline
Like yesterday's news
You are now quite stale
Worth very few views
Repeating a woeful tale
Your pals drop dead
On goes the count
Next obit to be read?
As health events mount
Header Note
Sponsor: sotto Poet
Poetry Contest Theme : Issa Kobayashi Inspired Poetry Contest
Haiku about a small drop of water creating a big change
Date of Submission: July,10 ,2026
CHERRY PETAL FALLS
Cherry petal falls
One drop catches morning light
Tears turn into joy
The term ‘sacrifice’ has been sacrificed
~ no longer worth its high price
Drop the mike, the pigs are here
They are singing their snouts off in holiday cheer!
We ran to the window and saw the happy three
They were deep in their cups, singing loudly in glee
Drop the mike, they have ruined all other songs
They are always right, they are never wrong!
We had to laugh at the exuberance of our younger child
Until this second he had been quiet and mild
One drop of human kindness,
Into the murky pool,
We seem determined to spend, most of our lives in,
feeling totally uncool,
Is usually enough to quench another's thirst,
To be placed anywhere but last,
Transferring that energy burst,
That was given to us,
Without any fuss,
So, they too can get on the right bus,
One that will take them to a place that is really cool,
Far far away from that murky pool.
Sip it ever-so-slowly
roll it over your tongue
pause it at the back of your throat
neither ‘down it,’ let it float
gently through safe and secret passages
‘til it exits, still as a resting musical note
We love to begin some days with a walk along the beach…
We leave the house in the dark when the streetlights are still on…
and walk until the darkness surrenders to the civil dawn.
We walk towards the east because that allows our eyes
to adjust from the darkness to the light as the sun begins to rise.
On one particular morning…
as the sun began it’s slow advancement across the land….
we noticed a single yellow primrose…up ahead
smiling in the sand.
As we approached that primrose
we observed on this part of the beach…she was the only one….
to us she seemed less like a flower…
and more like a drop…left there by the sun.
And we thought if rain can fall in drops out of the sky…
from a sea of clouds all painted blue…
is it possible in the morning…
there can be sun drops falling too?
Drops we usually don’t see individually…
as they blend together to brighten up the land…
but drops that occasionally find a place to rest…
like on the shoreline in the sand.
So now whenever we see a primrose on our beach walk
every primrose that we find…
we greet as a little drop of daylight…
the sun has left behind…
Needed: unsung heroes, with no need for fame.
Be a piccolo or cymbal in the symphony of rain.
—by poet
Single Drop
jumping into single drop
landing with a belly flop
dancing with all, dousing land
Spring’s crush inside portioned crop
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