Long Hip hop Poems
Long Hip hop Poems. Below are the most popular long Hip hop by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hip hop poems by poem length and keyword.
MUSICAL HAIKU NOTES
“ “ “ “ “ “ “ “ “ “ “ “
music grooves wild spell
hip hop rock thumping acid heat---
wind’s fingers click sleek
*
rhapsody in jazz
jiggling scents of post-war blues---
wildflowers dizzy
*
while hand-carved flutes stroll
notes from a classic forest---
upturned grass listens
*
*
oh ballads moan soft
lyrics aching for lost love---
navel of snake writhes
*
* *
of best, church choirs pray
chanting angelic blessings---
white dove’s breath is touched!
all rights reserved
©
CONTEST: P.D. ‘s HAIKU CRAZY
FROM: nette onclaud
What`s going on
Watching TV flicking from channel to channel is surreal,
one moment a casket is lowered into
a perfectly dug grave, umbrellas go up as fine rain falls
The next moment is about men riding horses
that have no idea what is going, the riders have been
on their mounts for days and must be stinking.
The next is about some old detective who is solving
crimes that are surprisingly easy to unravel.
Back at the graveside after false tears have been shed
all hell breaks loose who is getting his priceless
album of rare stamps and more murders are committed.
In the meantime, the riders are having a bath in a river
fully clothed in leather and armour. The horses are just staying there looking beautiful and dumb.
I switch off the telly and drink a glass of beer.
Especially one courteously wrapped ably
anonymously gifted to
an aspiring gourmet Chef Boyardee
i.e. not surprisingly... revealing mystery
person none other than...
yepper namely me.
Moost anyone can show
off culinary karate chop
suey, whether schooled among
fishy creatures either
from black lagoon,
or privately tutored,
(this haint no canibal)
courtesy mythological Cyclop,
somewhat riotously,
quirkily and precariously,
when blindsided flop
which slapdash loco motion often
misconstrued for latest dance moves
characterizing boogie woogie
(touting Louis Armstrong talents
as token bugle boy), and/or hip hop.
Audible sigh of relief exhaled by
none other than Chaim Yankel,
whose tail feathers ruffled
linkedin to setback, which former
(malfunctioning microwave) did rankle.
No longer must
hungry tummies all told
eat food frozen and/or cold
leftovers formed into Rorschach,
neigh Horseshack habitat mold
more suitable as clay pigeons,
where strong arms
analogous to accordion fold
readied to take aim and fire
young trumpeting Olympian trained
contestants, albeit aghast at
proliferating firearms when polled
wantonly, indiscriminately, and blithely
taking precious innocent lives
worth more than fine spun gold.
Eve vent chilly this monseigneur
and his madam
(Church Lady) conceding faithful
to follow and acquiesce
and countenance flimflam
toward yours truly,
no matter a fake Imam
who offered up feast
Earth friendly biologically/
genetically modified, prepared
artificial intelligent algorithmically
programmed manufactured in Vietnam,
who cooked delectable
Soylent green eggs and ham.
Best not prepare
former entree in microwave
lest they explode instantly
killing home of the brave
necessitating, none other
than one lame rhymester at large
to end poem quickly senseless verse
in order for his hide to save.
NO FLEXIN/ Hip Spoken Word
Iconic slick rhymes/
trumpet beats sampled/
Latin soul grooves on Bronx Street/
No flexin’, just real 90's rap/
Hip hop flows into jazz, spoken word, soul/
jazz whispers into Afrobeats' ear/
a political word from Angela Davis and the Revolution speaks to Gil Scott Heron/
Nu jazz beats as congas play/
Bronx streets come alive with stickballs flying high/
Gil Scott’s voice/
singing for change that will never come/
a ghetto child,
runnin' wild/
hydrants spray/
cooling off the summer's day/
DJ BEND IN doin' his thing as the table spins/
John Lee's Hooker's blues N hip hop/
Hip hop and blues/ yeah that's right/
Thoughts flow free like a humming bee's sound/
Hip hop rap's musical notes make/
The Milky Way is a sound system for the universe/
underground hoops play for money and dope/
Miles does do bop on his trumpet/
tasty like a Mars candy bar/
do-wop, boom bap/
What a solid remix, man!
I'm diggin' on your track/
So, relax and kickback/
This is what It means to be free/
~PIDGIN ON THE ROOF
Holler ya voice git down
Talk to me roost, nest, and dance.
Talking rooftops their height, providing a safe vantage point
Speak out potential threats moral sources.
Rest of the outside world understands not their voices
Roofs offer shelter from elements speaking nooks and crannies.
Speak compassion commandment reactions they ain’t no Jim Dandy
Talk to me for suit, pidgin on the roof
Here's a more detailed look what pigeons do on roof
Gathering voices protesting choices in languages from urban hoods
Use rooftops as resting spots, elevated areas ledges speak aloud their virtues
They build steps in various locations, dance under eaves,
Scream into vents rafters, and window sills,
Dance on materials like ground twigs N leaves.
Talk to me for suit, pidgin on the roof
Swoop down to ground level ta dance and voice their intentions,
Especially if there are nearby people formal gathers
Utilize rooftops to look down on citizens
Observing Predators atop shouting obscenities
Telling the world they don’t belong to these
The height of a roof offers a good view surrounding
Area spot potential predators
Git down git loose Pidgin on the roof
8/5/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2025©
English verse
memoirs of an old thug life
first impressions last longer
lost in the sands of times
last impressions lives forever
penned in mind's of men
treasured in the rhymes of mines
engraved in the tombs pains
inscribed in the palms of history
tattooed in the art of fame
last impressions
edit
first impressions
last impressions
uneditable
end justifies
the means.
I did got the cracks
tightly close in racks
sold widely in tracks
Iron mouth spears
puncture foes fears
broken into pieces of tears
guys we want 'd' dough
but we won't weigh the load
of tomorrow's cold
as in pains unfolds
gold through nose
holes
cuffs round necks
laced
iron on fingers
rings
silver on tooth
blinks
Bold to the triggers
sold to smugglers
cold to fingers
In hood hidden faces
nude thumbs
eyes gazes
faced down
all for the money
one for the dough
few for the penny
.
life so chokes
I so broke
I .......coke
stamp my attitudes on my spears. Thorns
a custom
to my runs
my lyrics in verse
of my tears
no cares
I prose penned
my mind
of my kind
In poems
to tend
my dines
I sing, I pulled down fifties
In shades
Of phases
no selections tracks
all non perfections
these impressions
cold
cos' I know
I don't know
they live forever
but I won't
am done
even when am gone
Cos' I know if I did been given this
chance again I know I will live
a clean slate
but this impressions last
sure haunted my cast
even in my grave forever
Am gone.
Link 2 watch it on my YouTube channel
https://youtu.be/_eGamAscQSw
Spoken Word Poetry: Jazzed Up Afrobeat
Without jazz, Life would be a mistake— A symphony of silence, an empty canvas, where melodies fade and dreams escape/
But then, oh! We jazz it up, Afrobeats lifts me high, Where the saxophone sings, and women swing, And the rhythm finds its way/
Dancing through my veins, Like a heartbeat, An echo of Fela in the night Afrobeat sax, Jazz night ignites the stars, Riveting, absorbing, Sounds dope in my Mercedes ML350, Rolling through the city/
Every note a pulse, Every beat jumpin’ in Afro Town, More power to you/
Fela didn’t just bring Nigeria to the world— No, he got the world to Africa, Opening doors, Creating bridges, and Uniting souls across borders. Well, done, Sisters and brothers, this is real Afrobeat! /
A celebration, a revelation, Joy cascading like a waterfall, Happiness flowing, A soundtrack of life, An anthem for the bold. Omo ope, You always have money to give, Your name echoes in the rhythms/ Afrobeats— The modern genre, A fusion, a blend, African rhythms collide with global sounds, Hip-hop, dancehall, pop/
A vibrant tapestry of unity. Dominating today’s scene, It captures the high-energy vibe, The essence of African life, From hustle culture echoes, To nightlife’s embrace, We grind, we celebrate, In every track, every line, The spirit of resilience shines/
This is it! Feel the beat, let it lift you, without jazz, Life would be a mistake, But with Afrobeats, we find our rhythm, our joy, our place, In this beautiful blend, We are alive, We are whole, We are music whole -n whole
I'm the vessel of your verses
The voice of your vice
The product of the dream you nurture
The nature you hide
I'm the vessel of your verses
For better or worse as
I killed as much as I healed
For your own selfish causes
Though like I
Sprinkled in time – a wrinkle in time
Distort this course of pattered patterns
As we try to advise
I come from a plight your voice invites
Yet through that noise my choice is mine
I'll rhyme with vice from time to time
But rhyme my course through what is mine
To frame my words:
Picture my verse reversing a curse and nursing a hearse
Purging the urge to merge with the merchant of murder or worse
Piercing the person that persecuted my pride
Piercing the Plight that worsens the worth of the words I write
Purging my urges, the grudges held from the judgment of hurt
Purging my hypocrisy, when it gave you hurt much worse
The stanzas alliterate to reflect the repetition
The verse of illiterate veterans on a mission
To verse you in their permanent "medicating" religion
Most mean love, while most only deliver what's given
Don't let old hurts and fears dictate today
Take steps toward healing; to live life now
Seizing the present is the only way
Don't let old hurts and fears dictate today
Take back your whole life, yell hip hop hooray
Aim to live your very best life somehow
Don't let old hurts and fears dictate today
Take steps toward healing; to live life now
Seizing the present is the only way
Take back your whole life, yell hip-hop hooray
Don't let old hurts and fears dictate today
Take steps toward healing; to live life now
Aim to live your very best life somehow
Be bold, my friend, put your hand to the plow
Alexis Y.
07/09/2021
Silly ass dame
You Lame plain Jane
Fckng wacked out & insane
Still playin the same game
Even with nothin' to gain
You're the only one to blame
So don't even complain
Sayin you wanna change
But forever stay tha same
Get back in ya in lane!!
Thinkin you so smart
With 3 cells left in ya brain
Dazed out 24/7 from all tha fetty& cocaine
Putting so much faith in hollow promises
That should be taken with a grain
It's like you BEGG for tha pain!!!
Feelin each drop of that acid rain
Burnin through my skin
Down to my skeletal Frame
Tryna act normal & maintain
Ignoring these constant stabbing migraines
Success will never be obtained
Like failure been ingrained
Take every aspect of your life
And rearrange
the past mistakes steady being replayed
Walkin a straight line to Hell
N sht still feel mundane*