How can I poet slam them politrician liars,
let me count the ghetto ways
In the calendar of infinity,
there are how many days?
Forever and a clean smile,
I love doing this dirty job
Putting snake eyes down for the count
gives me spiritual rise ...
make me wanna eagle mount
Politricians ain’t gonna tell you the truth —
why should they,
they get paid by the filthy lucre dime
Farted out serpentine suits and blood splat boots,
cheap designer lies is a moral fashionista crime
Strip away the fancy honorifics,
empty titles that don’t carry no righteous weight
Politricians ain’t nothing but two-faced whores
looking for another voter sin paid date,
to put a five finger pinch on the tax collection plate
How can I poet slam dim politrician liars,
let me count the True Light wattage ways
In the cosmic year of supernova,
the Second Coming is the end of the last demonic days
Down for the count,
the wicked forever unable to rise
Dropped by a straight right cross TKO,
defeated by a crucifixion surprise
Categories:
honorifics, slam, spiritual, truth, word
Form: Dramatic Verse
Do not seek or chose to find,
correction in another’s mind;
When at the heart of all, we know;
enlightenment comes from what we sow.
To criticize or correct ourselves is for the best
since others seldom can surmise the simplest jest.
In deference to said life so roughly hewn
‘tis the clown that earns heavenly boon.
For the gift of lucidity is rare without calamity
and few honorifics abound for those who claim sanity.
Categories:
honorifics, education, introspection, philosophy
Form: Didactic