Can you raed tihs poprlrey?
Wlel tahn you tinhk yo'rue pterty cevelr
Lkie a hdiedn ptcirue olny wtitern
To see tsohe I culod neevr
I awlyas funod tehm bffalnig
Tehy jsut loekod lkie a bncuh of dtos
I wulod satre at tehm for huors
Utinl my eeys brnued and I saw sptos
Tehy dovre me utelrty czray
Yet I tierd aagin and aigan
I mgiht nit untnglae vsuial rdildes
But I can wtire one wtih my pen :)
"Not De Beauvoir"
The Second Sex Cuts the Floor
I’m not De Beauvoir
And you’re no Satre
Try again tomorrow
Wordplay
The Second Sex Cuts the Floor
It’s a dog-eat-dog-turn-left-kind-of-day
Try again tomorrow, the Satre
Soul Sisters love
Wordplay
The World’s a Ghetto
The Second Sex Cuts the Floor
It’s a dog-eat-dog-turn-left-kind-of-day
Soul Sisters love
Wordplay
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
for da soul sistas
“The Ghetto” / Jestofunk
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWThlcafSX0
"The Second Sex"/ Simone de Beauvoir
https://archive.org/stream/1949SimoneDeBeauvoirTheSecondSex/1949_simone-de-beauvoir-the-second-sex_djvu.txt
"Dead Crush"
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/dead_crush_1230545
For who so ever comes to their ruin,
I’ve been there before.
Your devastation is my pain,
While your happiness is my cane.
Though, the lines I’ve drawn,
Speak little and more.
Your smile fills me with shame,
For, laughter is no more.
Old Walt, and the spectacles of
America.
While the fire and ice,
Dwells on a frosty night.
Thomas with his clown
In the sky.
Morrison and Cobain,
Died as god’s in fame.
Oh starry night,
With its ear gone on the right.
King, Satre, and Steinbeck,
A cemetery for pets,
A theory on consciousness,
And east of Eden,
It all comes back.
My dwellings,
My life,
My thoughts,
And my lost loves.
For we are all roaming,
In a wilderness of dreams.
And I say,
Whoever touches this poem,
Touches me.
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