As a hurting song is being sung,
At a white polo shirt is flung
What can have been a cow’s dung
And on same it foully clung
And on a nearby face hung;
All a hurried indiscreet challenge
By one refusing to change,
As though it is beyond his range,
The idea pointblank strange
Or one’s denial of a sweet orange!
At last, the fastest arrangement for a detergent,
Lest victim should arrange his brother sergeant…
“Once again, the quick-to-burst temper
Proving it can with a lot tamper.
One could see from his mood
That he had long been denied food;
A new way of walking pointblank crude,
Ninety-Five percent of his speeches rude!
Eyes that now like the mind brood,
Easily the same stripping nude
And a neck that had to slant
Like a non-watered dying plant.
Then, the man could by bread live alone
If God would a loaf throw down from His Throne...
Right now, still hungry and quite angry
For its not stretching to all and sundry.
On some painted wall they pee,
Funnily straightening themselves like a tree:
The peremptory command of their finished evil tea
And now complete rejection of a toilet with key!
The guys keep doing their thing with utmost glee,
Diametrically feeling incomparably free
A bashing of Propriety, never to such agree
And daring of sanitation department or their frightening fee
It is pointblank, a sight to not see,
All too obscene a urinating spree
That stings worse than does a bee
And only last week scandalized Sensitive Lee
From just the scatterbrained Eliciting “A Gee!”.
The whole lot, Maladjusted Adults,
To be not spared calculated insults!
She served me omelet
Rolled in plastic rice
The taste was not that of an egg
From the womb of chicken
The rice-taste was not of rice
From the womb of the earth
Burnt plastics it smelt
When I inquired,
she told me pointblank;
“You love omelet
but I took snake eggs
behind my house
and made you a nice meal
but added plastic rice
to give you a good appetite.
Enjoy yourself
with snakes eggs”
when he pulled the trigger,within his boots, his legs shook;
too his narrow shoulders, but his conscience not; he smiled
That chariot keep look'in at me
Just had to un wrapp (cheops)
Most of ya'll write like a chicken Po
Don scratch
Really not that deep
Women do you at war with this country
Don even look
No more up there
There nothing up there
but stripe
Nappy -------Kinky
I don't know
What they said
O' My goodness
Now don know
Where must you stay
Babylon mommy
no mommy no longer
Get that right woman out my kitchen
Just made Shamira a star
Mail that letter off Pointblank
Don come knock'in on my
Endowindow
Window
neuro syntax threads milled to ground thought flour
For half-baked mixed feelings in recipes and menus for
Successfully successive integrations of intuitive tics
And flicks of words to roll together forming notions
And ideas of knowing whether cause of foaming oceans
Rolling surfs on sands of reason bubbling suds of season
For the potherbs of deductions finished fitful reproduction
Of gravitivic mindswelling in genuflective reflective lunatics
Thus do gargantuan knots enthrall the followers of threads
Of thought who seek the wisdom of the ages from self
Possessive unprogressive sages in states of self possession
Impossible to heed but going downhill at e’er increasing speed
D’y’follow?
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