Long Pimping Poems
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JUXTAPOSED AWARENESS
On and within the fullness
of this beautiful sunshine day,
I peacefully sit here pondering
the present chaos of the world.
How awe confusing…it all is–
outside, flowers are blooming,
birds and butterflies are soaring,
and the quiet wind peacefully blows.
.
But within the physical and spiritual me,
there seems to be a battle for power control
over which system is the most in control when
it comes to sustaining me physically and spiritually.
Indeed–within–the heart seems to challenge
the brain, while expansion and restraint tease
the soul and spirit with respect to focus and divine
wisdom and guidance in oneness of mission purpose.
Here at home and around the rest of the world, atrocities
continue within its circumference: supporting inequality,
denying climatic change, ignoring human disasters,
and pimping war; all deemed…apt power aides.
Indeed, as I sit here looking out into the Godly beauty
of nature’s canvassing in the springtime, all is painfully
sighted and sourly tasted by the awareness of the chilling
wind of change murderous war is bleeding onto peaceful life.
Once more and again–we hued–wherever we may be
in our sojourn, are caused to detour round-about-focus of
empathy to drop off aspiration, inspirations, hope, faith, and
collective actions, to physically and spiritually aid victims of war-
mongering power-viral infected oppressors we all battle in common.
As I sit here gazing out/into this beautiful canvassing of nature,
hell flaming fires are wreaking devilish havoc not too far away and
at the same time, bombs shred life and spread their collateral pains;
all leaving peace to be realized in the spirituality of the actions of love.
As the “round-about of nature leads us back to the sojourn pathway
our ancestors left and foot-printed for us, let’s move on past syndrome
roadblocks and continue to cover miles of awareness–honking honks–echoing
to all the world that “...our equanimity too, is essential to world harmony.”
VERNON KING THE GREATEST PIMP FROM CHICAGO TO RAMSEY COUNTY MINNESOTA QHERE HE GAVE A STRING OF WOMEN WORKING THE STREETS BY DAY BUT BY NIGHT THEY WORK IN BANKS SWINDLING CUSTMERS EMBEZZLING FUNDS FOR MR KING THEY LANDED TO MY HOME STRANDED AFTER MY TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY HE NEEDED CASH HE ACTUALLY TOOK MY BANK CARDS MY PHOTOSFROM MY TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY CRUSHED EYE SOCKET TO FILE A FAKE CLAIM BECAUSE TWO GUYS BEAT HIM UP ON A BIKE HE HAD STRONGED ARM SOMEONE TAKEN THE BUY SO THEY GAVE HIM A BLACK EYE HIM BEING A PIMP A WOMAN BEATER ARRESTED SEVERAL TIMES FOR DOMESTIC VIOLENCE TERRORISTS THREATS GANG AFFILIATIONS HES ACTUALLY ON THE CHICAGO LIST FOR DANGEROUS GANGSTER DISCIPLES PIMPS AFTER HE TOOK MY PHOTO HE FLED TO GEORGIA I GOT A CALL FRAUD ON MY ACCOUNT VERNON AND HIS 4 HOOKERS COMMITED FRAUD EMBEZZLING FUNDS FROM ME SO THE BANK HELPED VERNON KING FLED BACK TO THE MIDWEST AWAITING A TIME TO GET MORE FUNDS FROM MY BRAIN INJURY WHEN HE FOUND OUT HE COULDN'T SWINDLE ME HIS OWN LITTLE COUSIN ON HER DEATH BED HE THEN TOOK MY PHOTO MY FACED CRUSHED TO MORGAN AND MORGAN AND ACTUALLY GOT A FAKE SETTLEMENT BUY EXPLOITING MY INJURIES WHAT COULD I DO I GOT TO ADMIT THAT WAS A GREAT SCAM HOWEVER IT WASN'T ME HE SWINDLED IT WAS MORGAN AND MORGAN THE INSURANCE COMPANIES LOSS FAKE SETTLEMENT MY PHOTOS MY XRAYS LAYING ON MY TABLE I TRUSTED HIM BUT HE WAS A PIMP WHO BEAT THE SHT OUT OF WOMEN HE EVEN TOOK OFF HIS BELT BEAT THIS WOMAN SENSEELESS IN FROMT OF MY KIDS THEE ABSOLUTE MOST HORRID THING AFTER HE BEAT HER DHE OBEYED HIM LIKE A DOG KISSING HIS FEET EMBEZZLING FROM HER JOB IN THE BAMK IN MINNESOTA AT ANYRATE PIMPING AINT EASY AFTERWARDS HE WAS ARRESTED AGAIN HE FLED TO MINNESOTA TO IDAHO DRAINING HIS GRANDSON AND HIS WIFE BANK I DON'T LOOK BACK AND I DOWN FEAR TERRORISTS THREATS FROM PIMPS PUSHERS HOOKERS EMBEZZLING BANK ACROSS AMERICA HE REALLY IS THE GREATEST AMERICAN PIMP GANGSTER DISCIPLES LEADER IN AMERICA
CIAO BELLA
Well today I find myself stretching again
Passed tests trials and wicked heart men
Playing games on courts
Who me no door
Shuts close with no reason
Freedom comes in season
Time gains its now
Hope despair somehow
Catches up with lost time
Almost lost the mind
Sandy winds in eyes
Differently to cry
Tears of joy to die
Old life renewed
All the reason to choose
Team won without rules
This dude thought slick was slick memo
Producer with no demo
Riding tires without a limo
Stage with out bingo
Won with out a song
Hidden revealed who won
Sitting in the audience tables have crumbs
Snatcher and catchers
ballplayers flipped done
First place without a stump
Hills with no humps
Helicopters blades with days
News casters who lie trilogy
Rain passed storms windy chilly
Seasons have reasons
Maps have overlaps
But people insecure run miles with no crap
Tell tales and stories with lies
Promises made with goodbyes
Pimping Easy prostitute pushed down made to cry
Die deaths streets with beats
Undercover paid service with creeps
Heep down with locks too
Blurred Lines tell lies too
Who wrote Gaye lines paid lines have paid too
.
No doubt
God looks after
Even sin city- Vegas
From oldest profession;
Politics’ newest victim;
Brothel King: Dennis Hof
.
When comes to profession
Prostitution is the oldest
Politics or pimping is next
(I disagree with Charles III)
So what is the context ?
In Vegas...
A pimp wins the election
But, it is after his death .
.
What happens in Vegas..
Stays in Vegas...as said
.
The celebrity pimp got seduced
by guess what..Politics
and got consumed
But after winning...
Never a loser - Dennis Hof..
He turned out to be a good cock
.
Guess his guardian angels told him
Hof, Stay here...don’t move
You happened in Vegas. you stay in Vegas
We invested in a pimp. Politics is a bad bet
Tell me something,
To all y’all young brotha's
How do you define a real nigga
Is it that dude that’s defiling women,
Drug dealing, robbing & stealing
Claims he’s big pimping, saying he a “G”
Cause he did like 6 months in a detention center.
Is that what you call real? These niggas ain’t real.
What about the niggas that’s
Taking care of their kids
Handling Grown man biz and
Yeah he might have did a couple bids
Something like a three year sentence
And that’s real I ain’t kidding
But y’all ain’t listening.
See ya perception of a real nigga is so messed up
By age 18 most of our brothers
Are gonna be dead or in bloody hand cuffs
You out here trying ya luck
Robbing for a little bit of paper
Stop believing these rap artist
These niggas ain’t gangsta.
Problem is these niggas is so scared to be somebody
Scared they gone see somebody
They so used to being nobody
They think hustling & catching bodies is actually a hobby
But you know what they say ya mind is ya worst enemy
So it got ya heart full of hatred, jealousy, & envy
Got you thinking you addicted to cigarettes this generation is so dizzy
And I’m part of it, trying to make a change
So far the moment I’m so busy.
These niggas so caught up in the money
They overlooking the trap
Niggas at war & beefing so heavy they can’t relax
Thinking nobody loves them
Tell me where’s the loving?
Racism exist believe it or not
Everybody’s holding grudges
They ain’t realizing we all
Brothers, sisters, & cousins
But In the hood it’s survival of the illest
So called thugs claiming they the realest.
These niggas ain’t real I’m telling you man
When you get locked up or catch a little sentence
See how many of ya homies come and visit
Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting
piquantly piqued, pimply pimping playboy, plucky
pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently
puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian
puppeteer pygmy, peevishly punky, plummy, plumy,
pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck,
pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied
piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing,
parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing
preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization
pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving
perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements
projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging
packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish
psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic
protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist,
polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic
postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache,
peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious
puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial
principles, plenty public parking, purposefully
promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing
paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters,
profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball
players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional
palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling,
proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating
phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote
phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting
paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating
phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place
purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.
When MORNING can't help itself to MORN
That CARE have to dwell in a wild lonely FEAR
And the SKY up there allows my eyes to CRY
He helps me to DARE the troubling AFFAIR
He's capable
Gearing me able
He never promise
What He can't keep
Unlike human do of tease
Pleasing me to the deep
When AFTERNOON can't attune my trials to a targeted BOON
That STAR is at reach in a bit yet very FAR
And HOPE for all it holds keep toasting the hanging ROPE
He helps me CLEAR all doubts attacking hearty CHEER
It is never over
Until You say so
The only confirmation I need
Was done on the cross
That grace reign forever
For every trying soul
Out of mere mouth's wordy soul
Kneeling, praying and crying in plead
Yet the reason to dine in sin, seems gloss
When NIGHT keeps barking in horror exploring my LIGHT
That BLINKS fearfully fright of raging WINKS
And signals SORROW to the mind hoping of TOMORROW
He keeps SAYING "fear not, I'm loosing things set to DELAYING"
No matter how I run
I run into His love
And when things are falling apart
He never let me go
Rather caress me, a dove
Pimping me into heavenly fun
That bows human ego
And pierce down troubles of an open heart
Destroyed lives
By Michelle Morris
25/11/2022
Broken promises
Broken dreams
Destroyed lives
In the in between
The in between
Of me and you
The ideas in my head
Of what was true
You lead me on
Betrayed my trust
Took advantage of
My need for love
Meeting you
Changed my life
But not in the way
I ever imagined
Here I am
Buried in a shallow grave
Close to nature
In the least good way
You took my organs
You took my life
But most of all
You took my future self
Halted in its tracks
My special path
Now in Heaven
We discuss my faults
You might get rich
By deception and evil
But you'll pay the price
Of all your misdeeds
Whether pimping girls
Or selling flesh
You'll soon feel
The deepest regrets
For there is no loyalty
Among such bitter souls
Your brazen acts
Will always implode
A bigger monster
Is always there
To feed off you
Your certain death
It won't be pretty
And it won't be painless
But what can you expect
From a life so shameless
And when you stare
Into Satan's eyes
Remember He
Knows all your lies
Enjoy your pain
Your hellfire torture
You'll suffer eternally
As you ought to
© Michelle Morris, 2022
The curtain rises. Steve Merkin, the unscrupulous accountant, and John Travailleur, Esq. just another John, are seated at a bar in a seedy looking inn. Mitchell Hollywood, the adulterous innkeeper, is behind the bar. He is wearing a shabby mauve tuxedo with a green ascot. A cigarette holder is clenched between his teeth. He is wiping a dirty glass with a greasy rag. The juke box is playing a raunchy twelve bar blues number:
"Baby said she brought a camera and we’d both enjoy the game.
Said the naughty shots excite her; not to play would be a shame.
By the time I got the picture, it turned out to be a frame..."
The juke box music fades.
Steve: I’ll have another Spünkmeyer Mössbeck and a refill on this peanut bowl.
John: And one more double-dry martini as a comfort to my soul.
Mitchell: Both those ships are coming in on the tide. And since you’re taking your leisure, let me serve as your guide.
John: What entertainment do you aim to provide?
Mitchell: The choice of diversions is yours to decide.
Steve: Would foxy delights be found on the tour?
Mitchell: If that’s your intention, then sure.
Steve: As a frugal accountant with ledgers to keep, I will enter my interest, so long as she’s cheap.
John: …also suitably handsome.
Steve: …shouldn’t cost me a ransom.
John: Describe what affair would be quick to arrange.
Steve: And avail us your rate of exchange.
Mitchell: Since you’re here to talk business, I’ll get right to the point. Most plans are obsolete as soon as they’re approved. Pimping may require a fair degree of artistry, but I have it down to a science. You could call it an algorithm. The cost of the date is determined by the grade of the girl you select.
Steve: Explain yourself, sir.
Versus me
(chilling as an outsize ego freezer)
profusely perspiring
and heavily panting
experiencing one after another
stuff whet dreams are made
frolicking in autumn mist
(think Maxfield Parrish painting)
while skirt chasing
and playfully tackling,
a gamesome gamine with verve
mercilessly coquettish ingenue
"precociously seductive"
overgrown Lolita wannabe.
Solitude and introvertedness
mebbe made more manifest destiny
courtesy severe nasal notable twang
(otherwise known as split uvula)
yours truly wittingly drew taunts
and unutterable pang
to escape being bullied as scapegoat
entering magical world
of mine imagination
fostered learning about
all creatures great and small
by age appropriate books.
Logophile lusts ever stronger after
twenty six letter combinations
(analogously surrendering to mistress)
that yield an estimated 171,146 words
currently in use in the English language;
according to the Oxford English Dictionary,
an additional 47,156 obsolete words exist.
I luxuriate engrossed
with choice reading material
and out of desperation
to slake insatiable thirst
(to discern syllabification)
yours truly doth read aloud
intently hearing cadence
of vowels and consonants.
Up until I entered six grade
(at Henry Kline elementary -
a one classroom per grade - school)
classmates bullied, derided,
and feigned to hammer -
jabbing leering, nasty
pimping ragout as a rule
which boyhood self of mine
availed a perfect bullseye target
with combination of diminutiveness,
being painfully quiet,
essentially remaining mum the entire day
except when called upon to answer question
thence utterance emanating between lips
produced and emitted
a strong nasal sound to boot
grist for the mill
sans malice meted, mimicked,
and mocked mashup
of mine warped congestion.