Long Drop a dime Poems
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Stale milk sky,
traffic is trawling for any surfacing light.
Rubber squeaks on the smeared blacktops.
No hills to climb in this part of town
we are flat earth
and mostly just tilted into our daydreams.
Corner shops are damp and derelict
or heaving with low class crime.
Shadows pounce if you drop a dime.
Its a crawl through a gauntlet
no one runs here unless they flee.
The car radio is set to Fox News
we haven't seen a fox hereabout in years
only concrete cemeteries,
islands of amnesia
sprinkled with stone angels,
hidey-holes
where daytime hookers gather
to pray for better weather.
should i tell them
should i let them know
what i have inside me
that nobody knows
should i make a confession
of all of my crimes
and if i really do it
will they drop a dime
everything i'm thinking
i think that they thought of too
i'm so very sure
that they all have a clue
and when it comes to sinning
i'm only just beggining
waiting for time and the world
to teach me something new
the lust of the eye's
and the pride of the heart
the needs of the flesh
invent the dark arts
it is in the cerimony
the worship, the ritual
where we sacrifice to ourselves
to satisfy our hearts
to steal, to avenge, to fornicate
with impunity
to kill, to maim, to imprison
a thing of beauty
to lie, to cheat, to see but
turn the other way
to remember but forget
who it is to we should pray
to raise up our throne
above almighty gods
make ourselves rulers
and that our only cause
now you see the
darkest side of me
nothing new
the twin of thee
(Hey ! what happen to the dark poet contest that this was going into!!!)
Form:
Ice, ice, baby
You pour me over maybe
A straw to pierce the depths
Inhale the deepest breaths
A fancy glass all fluted
In milky joy I'm rooted
A scoop of whizzed banana
Tastes of pure Americana
The decor is all flashy
Just white and red, not trashy
All dressed up in your nifties
Time travel to the fifties
For teens on scooters suited
All sweetness undiluted
A jukebox in the corner
Soothes away all worldy trauma
Drop a dime to stick a tune on
Whirrs and clicks to drop the best song
Grab yourself a Coca-Cola
Dance in lights from the Rock-Ola
Gals all twirls and frilly knickers
Dudes in shiny winkle pickers
There's an innocence and beauty
As they jive to Tutti Frutti
How we'd love to travel back there
Leaving every burden and care
Just an evening sure to thrill ya
Taste of ice-cold pure vanilla
When a push comes to a shove
And ministers still preach and promise love
Never put your piece down put your piece down and hold your peace now thug
Give me my condolences to the hypocrites and bugs
Leopards resonating while chasing Kellogg's
Tripping on scatter rugs
Grandma said boy pull up them draws
Only rich men makeup laws
When a push comes to a shove
And ministers still preach and promise love
Never put your piece down put your piece down and hold your peace now Thug
Wonder if the CIA has me bugged my daddy never gave me a hug
mama where is the love where is the love double dip says man that ain't hit bra
Yo if I'm watching me who's watching you duh
Icy Hot vanilla shakes in a mug
Martial Arts Sweet Tarts drop a dime on me it smarts woo woo oh
When a push comes to a shove
And the ministers still preach and promise love
Caramel apple raisin stallion wonder if being born again really matters
Gave up sin and I joined a gym
What's my name it ain't Village Jim
Life in my stomach just keep on Bubble bubbling
Like a river in a fountain like a beacon on an ocean
When a push comes to a shove
A minister still preach and promise love
Never put your piece down put your piece down and hold your peace now Thug
Violence and violence don't mix
Thyme fo you and your Posse to hit the bricks
Come on J E give me some riffs
This passionate mix makes me sick
Don't want to win or lose all I want is peace and Trues
Caveat Coco man Nissan cruising
All I need is Old Spice on my old man's shirt by Van Husain
Kris Cross wears a cross what you know about Jesus
Been being Spin blend hallelujah amen
When a push comes to a shove
Never put your piece down put your piece down and hold your peace now
Thug
04/08/14
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr
Arranged music by Jonathan Echtinaw
Let me rap to you about where I'm from.
Sidewalks are broken, weeds grow through the cracks.
The people that use them are like the sidewalks,
broken and bummed out.
They have handles like Turkey, Louie the Bum, Sand man.
No one's hip to their real names.
They all think they're righteous.
Me, they call me Kid, so don't be freaking out,
no one cares, it is what it is.
All we care about is the hustle.
The next minute, then the minute after.
So it goes.
This, is my school, I'm hip to it.
In these alleys, on these sidewalks,
where no one can tell if the garbage man came,
where rainbows are neon, books are painted words,
scrawled on concrete walls.
It's where you can get sliced for a joint,
and die for seeing what you shouldn't.
It's cool, don't sweat it.
It's another realm man, so don't flip your wig.
No manicured grass here, only advertisements for whiskey.
Are you hip to it, what I'm laying down.
Listen up my brother, cause I'll be bookin.
In this place, pain is a commodity,
sold by dealers and pimps.
Can you dig it.
I gotta split man, before the fuzz comes.
So hang loose, I gotta drop a dime,
to my connection.
Maybe I'll catch you on the flip side.
1960's slang
contest..Talk the Talk and Walk the Walk