Drop your favorites poems here. Bukowski is a favorite of mine, but share what you will.
A Challenge to the Dark
shot in the eye
shot in the brain
shot in the dick
shot like a flower in the dance
amazing how death wins hands down
amazing how much credence is given to idiot forms of life
amazing how laughter has been drowned out
amazing how viciousness is such a constant
I must soon declare my own war on their war
I must hold to my last piece of ground
I must protect the small space I have made that has allowed me life
my life not their death
my death not their death…
by Charles Bukowski
"Hickory Dickory Dock,
Some chick was sucking my cock.
The clock struck two,
I dropped my goo,
I dumped the bitch on the next block..."
- The great Andrew "Dice" Clay
Lol oldie but a goodie AL!
Yeah, I dig the classics. Shakespeare, Dice, Kinison.
The Greats.
"The Nudie Bar"
Where the music stinks, and they water the drinks, at the nudie bar.
Where the girlies dance, in their underpants, at the nudie bar.
Where you see their butt, and their trap stays shut, at the nudie bar.
Where you can’t touch a breast, but you can cave in a chest, at the nudie bar.
Where you look at a thigh, and blacken an eye, at the nudie bar.
Where the beer gives you gas, but the Bundys kick ass, at the nudie bar.
- Al Bundy - President, "No Ma'am"
The other day, I came across "Poem for Haruko" by one of my favorite poets, June Jordan:
I never thought I’d keep a record of my pain
or happiness
like candles lighting the entire soft lace
of the air
around the full length of your hair/a shower
organized by God
in brown and auburn
undulations luminous like particles
of flame
But now I do
retrieve an afternoon of apricots
and water interspersed with cigarettes
and sand and rocks
we walked across:
How easily you held
my hand
beside the low tide
of the world
Now I do
relive an evening of retreat
a bridge I left behind
where all the solid heat
of lust and tender trembling
lay as cruel and as kind
as passion spins its infinite
tergiversations in between the bitter
and the sweet
Alone and longing for you
now I do
This is "Nothing is for Nothing" by Jill Scott. It was sent to me by a provider and touched me.
I had been turning tricks longer than I actually knew it
Being whatever they wanted me to be whenever they wanted me to be it
A freak, inside, outside kitchen counters, laundry mats, hotels, motels
And backseats of leased cars, vans and jeeps
Made myself like it cause they liked it and I liked that they liked it
And so I continued being the perfect image of a wet dream
Nasty, wild, exotic, erotic, freak was they wanted so freak was who I was
And everybody was walking around talking about me
Like teenage pregnancy wasn't becoming synonymous with being black and woman
Like America wasn't suffocating our thoughts
Like there was nothing to talk about what was doing or screwing
And I thought the whole damn thing was ridiculous, which it was
"Cause I was content giving my men a little heaven between their struggle to breathe and their contemplation of suicide
Wasn't I good for the cause?
Closed mind, open legs, making niggas forget why they're so damn angry
Wasn't I good?
Then the mood swung as well the tempo and I became an ideal
So they want her pretty and docile, caring and stupid
And there I was on your Mark, Seth, Joe, and I was Suzy Homemaker on the hunt for love
Cooking and cleaning, ironing, faithful and a freak cause that's what they liked
And I liked being what they liked so that's what I was
A prostitute, selling my soul for emotional gain
Struggling not to be the third generation of lonely women in my family
Struggling to gain but gaining nothing but confusion, frustration, illusion
Cause there was no love, just empty condom wrappers on the floors to be discarded like me.
A prize performer long before I actually knew it too, cause I was faking me out of the me. I would become...
The me that I see now
The me that holds onto herself with both hands and all feet
The me who must have love and give it
The me who brings more to the table than good looks and a wet hole
The me that is confident, and intelligent and filled to the brim with respect for me
And a freak cause that's what I like
And I like being what I like
And what I like is all a part of what I am.
"Josephine Baker Finds Herself" by Patience Agbabi
She picked me up
like a slow-burning fuse. I was down
that girls’ club used to run in Brixton,
on ---- for fuel. Lipstick lesbians,
techno so hardcore it’s spewing out Audis.
She samples my heartbeat and mixes it with
vodka on the rocks. I’m her light-skinned, negative,
twenty-something, short black wavy-bobbed diva.
She purrs La Garçonne, fancy a drink? I say
Yes. She’s crossing the Star Bar like it’s a catwalk. So sleek!
A string of pearls, her flapper dress
studded with low-cut diamonds
through my skin, straight to my heart.
Twenties chic! She works
me up and down. I worship
the way she looks.
The way she looks
me up and down. I worship
twenties chic. She works
through my skin, straight to my heart
studded with low-cut diamonds.
A string of pearls her flapper dress.
Yes! She’s crossing the Star Bar like it’s a catwalk so sleek
she purrs, la garçonne! Fancy a drink? I say.
Twenty-something, short, Black, wavy-bobbed diva:
Vodka on the rocks, I’m her light-skinned negative.
She samples my heartbeat and mixes it with
techno so hardcore it’s spewing out Audis
on ---- for fuel. Lipstick Lesbians,
that girls’ club used to run in Brixton
like a slow-burning fuse. I was down.
She picked me up.
Greatest poem in English describing DATY
John Donne, Love's Progress
Her swelling lips; to which when we are come,
We anchor there, and think ourselves at home,
For they seem all: there sirens’ songs, and there
Wise Delphic oracles do fill the ear;
There in a creek where chosen pearls do swell,
The remora, her cleaving tongue doth dwell.
These, and the glorious promontory, her chin
O’erpast; and the strait Hellespont between
The Sestos and Abydos of her breasts,
(Not of two lovers, but two loves the nests)
Succeeds a boundless sea, but that thine eye
Some island moles may scattered there descry;
And sailing towards her India, in that way
Shall at her fair Atlantic navel stay;
Though thence the current be thy pilot made,
Yet ere thou be where thou wouldst be embayed,
Thou shalt upon another forest set,
Where some do shipwreck, and no further get.
When thou art there, consider what this chase
Misspent by thy beginning at the face.
- Hojo
- 09-30-2016, 12:00 AM
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.
More of a quote than poem but i always remember this when I feel complicit in others actions.
This is "Nothing is for Nothing" by Jill Scott. It was sent to me by a provider and touched me.
I had been turning tricks longer than I actually knew it
Being whatever they wanted me to be whenever they wanted me to be it
A freak, inside, outside kitchen counters, laundry mats, hotels, motels
And backseats of leased cars, vans and jeeps
Made myself like it cause they liked it and I liked that they liked it
And so I continued being the perfect image of a wet dream
Nasty, wild, exotic, erotic, freak was they wanted so freak was who I was
And everybody was walking around talking about me
Like teenage pregnancy wasn't becoming synonymous with being black and woman
Like America wasn't suffocating our thoughts
Like there was nothing to talk about what was doing or screwing
And I thought the whole damn thing was ridiculous, which it was
"Cause I was content giving my men a little heaven between their struggle to breathe and their contemplation of suicide
Wasn't I good for the cause?
Closed mind, open legs, making niggas forget why they're so damn angry
Wasn't I good?
Then the mood swung as well the tempo and I became an ideal
So they want her pretty and docile, caring and stupid
And there I was on your Mark, Seth, Joe, and I was Suzy Homemaker on the hunt for love
Cooking and cleaning, ironing, faithful and a freak cause that's what they liked
And I liked being what they liked so that's what I was
A prostitute, selling my soul for emotional gain
Struggling not to be the third generation of lonely women in my family
Struggling to gain but gaining nothing but confusion, frustration, illusion
Cause there was no love, just empty condom wrappers on the floors to be discarded like me.
A prize performer long before I actually knew it too, cause I was faking me out of the me. I would become...
The me that I see now
The me that holds onto herself with both hands and all feet
The me who must have love and give it
The me who brings more to the table than good looks and a wet hole
The me that is confident, and intelligent and filled to the brim with respect for me
And a freak cause that's what I like
And I like being what I like
And what I like is all a part of what I am.
Originally Posted by OldGent
Good poem
"The Nudie Bar"
Where the music stinks, and they water the drinks, at the nudie bar.
Where the girlies dance, in their underpants, at the nudie bar.
Where you see their butt, and their trap stays shut, at the nudie bar.
Where you can’t touch a breast, but you can cave in a chest, at the nudie bar.
Where you look at a thigh, and blacken an eye, at the nudie bar.
Where the beer gives you gas, but the Bundys kick ass, at the nudie bar.
- Al Bundy - President, "No Ma'am"
Originally Posted by albundy
Define "Obligatory"
A toast...
"Here's to us.
May we never fuss.
If we do,
Fuck you."
Remember you are just a trick
But ain't that oh so slick
All the pussy you get to pick
Warm mouths wrapped round your dick
All the places you get to lick
Every position for you to stick
Whatever size your wick.
But if ever you lose your common sense
and see it as something more
Just listen hard for the sound of the closing hotel room door........click!