Rough Draft
[Hook]
Despite all these doubts he shouts at the demons
From now on You cant talk me out of believing
He realized this the right time to get even
Cause he knows there is no sequel
Rough verse
feeling so helpless
So doubtful of my financial welfare
who the hell cares but I do
there is a need to grind hard 9 to 9
to find some dime
for my family
In the midst of all, there comes my dream again
the desire to make money from what I love
it's the music i use to fuse it with my brutal thoughts and suffering
but how? someone like me too far from america
go toe to toe with these juggernauts
Eminem, Kendrick Lamar, Cole, Nas, abel and Bruno mars
but you know what sometimes I feel confident
other days I feel like I'll not fit in mind playin games with me rock, papers but not scissors
coz I cant cut off these dark thoughts outta my vessel
I feel so restless
constant battle inside the oblongata and the grey matter
If I should take one step ahead and risk my life
or should I stay where I am stare my struggle
I don't know where to begin
unbearable it is
Written By: D. Collins 5/15/25
To Piggy-back what was said by Kendrick Lamar.
I concur that what he said is the way things are.
Around the corner from me used to be Compton High.
On 120th and Central was that Centennial prize.
I go back in the day to the 1960's.
When Fort McArthur took care of our safety.
I remember Barton Hill in the San Pedro Hills.
Abraham Lincoln in Compton to learn fighting skills.
Junior High was the beginning of what was felt.
7th Grade meant I had to go to Roosevelt.
I lived around the corner from the Pilot House.
A Sailor's stomping ground where mom met pops.
it's quite good actually
Jericho likes it -
but i'm struggling not to giggle
as i lie on the bed in the middle
of the night
my wife is not giggling
she is asleep
but i am certain i heard giggling
through the wall
yes, the neighbours are giggling
both of them
i look for the saw
because i want to join them
through the wall
and we can giggle together
it takes forty minutes
i'm through the wall
and the portal
leads me to the giggling
she's tickling the dermatologist
i look back through the excavation
i tiptoe back in
and i wake up my wife
and after twenty minutes she giggles with me -
until she sees the space in the wall
we stare at it from the bed
i burp loudly
what a time to be alive
The theatre is open, acting tactics keep it in theatrics
Making a scene says Lamar llama, is for stage queen drama
The theatrical kind we see and hear, save it for Shakespeare
The easy life isn’t enough for some no, they go, on and on
Wherever from, the USA or all the way to the United Kingdom
Some folks only exist, to insist on creating a bit of drama
Many Ziegfeld Girls started out wearing costumes so fine.
We did not know them, but they were gorgeous and danced in a line.
This photo is amazing from 1941.
It has Hedy Lamar, Judy Garland and Lana Turner, what fun!
At the ascension of the crystal
Stair of humanity, I embrace the totality of each step, each more carefully navigated. The creaking of uncertainty and discord from previous steps flashes before my thoughts, as each leg is lifted only to be forgotten amongst the dynamic placement of each foothold,with any of aforementioned merely a faded picture within loquacious movement, but a mirror with no reflection, for there is no looking back into conquered darkness only a transition up the staircase to a familiar void, desolate yet forthcoming At the same time. Levels become legality of stride each one freeing up, making up, reinvigorated me,keeping my mind on constant guard of the attack , for the mountain top, has a valley in which this ascension can't and won't be, nor will it incapacitate, for I will never be God willing a reprobate mind or soul, elevation has its whole. And may this staircase take me to every blessing and aspect earned and deserved, allowing personification in every word.
Lamar a. Williams Sr.
Sometimes we like to do something for the story
we’ll tell afterwards. Buy a ’58 Pontiac, climb
a mountain in the dark. Lamar tells dirty jokes
with class, knows how to wait awhile, bend
a syllable and savor the laughter. We go on
with our absurd work, building a fence miles long
waste of steel and strong straight lodgepole pine
but even I don’t pine over it anymore. We’re
self-acknowledged children, fence is play and
livelihood also, but something cheerful as sunshine
for all the death it costs. There is so much life
a little death doesn’t matter. We stretch our muscles
the men feel like men, the women feel good too.
We stand around, watch a young rabbit one morning.
An aweing sight, at the Eiffel Tower I glance
I am in the city of love called Paris, France
A romantic heart and enamored of my miss
At a local diner and leaning in for the kiss
A kiss so deadly that can never go wrong
As an accordion plays this lovely love song
With the velvet rose to set our sex on fire
In this night we can fulfill our sexual desires
Track: Kendrick Lamar - Backseat Freestyle (Explicit)
I barely know how you bear it, I said to the grapefruit
Of course, true to form, she tried to smooth everything out.
I was irked because no words arrived to sooth me.
Which made her easier to eat, actually – more palpable.
Masticating my cereal is never easy these days,
especially when the news is on, so I shut that puppy down.
If it is not good news, I do not need it, especially in the morning.
There was a wreck at 17th and Lamar, as usual.
I see one there almost every morning,
Yet I continue driving this same exact route.
And me, the woman who loathes routine,
Actually living one now. Is it my age, do you suppose?
The car radio is on some 1970’s music but not folk music.
The one channel I had on before my husband drove
And ruined things by changing my channel.
He is going to be eating mothballs for supper tonight.
My girlfriend calls to yack about her dead husband again.
I wish he was still alive so I could beat his ass, she says.
I have heard it about sixty-nine times, still it never gets old
Especially this morning as listen to the wrong freaking station.
J-ust
O-vercome
R-ainy
D-ays
A-s
N-ature
L-ets
A-ll
M-en
A-bsorb
R-oughness
Topic: Birthday of Jordan L. Lamar (October 23)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
C-larity
H-as
R-eappeared
I-n
S-hining
T-winkle
I-ntroducing
N-ew
E-arly
L-ight
A-s
M-orn
A-bounds
R-egularly
Topic: Birthday of Christine Lamar (August 19)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
L-ove
A-lways
M-akes
A-ffection
R-ema in
C-reating
O-ne
L-ikeable
E-mot ion
Topic: Poet (Lamar Cole)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
The nucleus of a pin cushion is akin to the internal mechanisms of a sausage. A big massive drama but don't tell Dalai Lamar and the turtle doves will sing and swing in the breeze. A damsel in distress is a fruit pie filling times ten. Or perhaps twenty? But never pickle a grape drop from a left handed swing. Butter melt circumference could stand over a crevasse and stand tall in any glowering wind. But a flowery jacket that tangoes with a nice tiara is a gatepost of which there omits a smell of strawberry flow. Flee frames who arrive in hallways. And chatter no more than five minutes with a towel. Heard hedgerows having heated heaters. Implacable inner impala. And a sixty foot dog woofing to a tree. The tree woofs back for woofs are woods and woods are woofing. Great.fantastic. Circular c I a in a cake clapping. And an itemised phone bill is a book beyond a bongo. Bing bong butt. And a moronic mutton motor going broom broom brum. Fishcakes can be dangerous so put hazard lights on. Merely a fable. A saucepan. And a dish. Meeting. Meringues moving. Hahahaha tea towel trowel. Haha haha xxxxxxx restitutional p y q q yp. Xxxxx horizontally z
Homage to Poetry (Formerly PoET a Tree)
By Brett Somers
3/19/16
Poetry is everywhere
It’s in our hearts
It’s in our minds
It’s the purest expression
Of human kind
It’s the breath
Of our inner creation
A touch of the divine
As they sing the lines
Of Dylan, Morrison, Kendrick Lamar
To the base of their idling car
They may say poetry ain’t cool
Wiser – They know
For poetry at times
Is an abstract old fool
Sun in my eyes and bubbling tar
And one clear lane for me.
May there be no honking of the cars
When I put out to see
If such a creek as Shoal lies asleep
Too dry for suds or loam
And that witches brew comes out a toothless creep
While I throw up a bone.
Twilight and all's right swell
And after that I'll lark
May there be no gladness in Hell when
When, at the moon, I bark
And though from out my barn of shame and grace
The trees my bareness bar
I'll stoop to tie my shoes - lace to lace
When I have crossed Lamar.
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