-
You're on a Trya Banks special
The audience in tears
-
If you told me yourself It wouldn’t have hurt that much
-
it sounds like a nice heavy smoke - stop - door
sliding closed over a dusty concrete floor
-
-
-
You're a Wussy Boy. It’s taken you a long time to admit it.
-
Tremendous alliteration thrown twixt and tween
the stanzas of this trickster.
-
-
-
Pretentious By: Nicole Della-Piazza
-
We can turn the rhyme on and off if we choose I suppose.
-
You may call me a pothead, I don't care Is it the chewed on nails or the,
-
Because what's besides this, mother nature's boon?
A sign saying simply "New development, coming soon"
-
-
I’m sick of people making choices to be sad And yes, it really does make me mad
-
-
I'm starting over!
I don't care what you think
-
So many people don’t quite
see the relations of love and death.
-
Don't you honey-baby-sugar-sweetheart me-
that's not my name -- Why can't you see
-
Baby girl *this* is a letter of apology.
This is to say I'm sorry.
-
-
-
Every year,
Every new debate every new election
-
get over it.
i am a bitch
-
meant as a slam, read it out loud. 
-
Impale me king of darkness, show your deeds where none but you can identify and scourge the truth in frantic tell tale wisdoms that you could only know if you were alive.
yes, truth and justice for all, especially you ill
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
You don't notice me / so are you over me? / I can't let that be / can you not see? / I miss you, wish you / Luck / and honestly / I don't give a fuck / if an empty sorry / is all you have for me / clarify
-
She is my Life / She is my Woman / She is my Life / &nbs
by Transcend All
62 lines, 5 comments,
on Jun 3 3:27 AM 2007. In An Artist Mind, Slam, Gay, Pain, Life, Love, Lyrics, Spiritual, Thoughts, Hope
-
A first person view / of my silent dreams, / awakened by night sweats / and piercing screams— / nightmares of an unsettled mind / from situations where unspoken / thoughts were left behind. / Haunted by the
-
Three and a half months boy / One fourth of a year / I was a virgin / when you walked into my life. / and didn't walk right back / out
-
-
-
This is a Slam poem, so it doesn't have the same effect as when it's read out loud.
-
-
More concerned With her hair What to wear
-
Inspired by the dead boys in my life
-
We… can’t produce what we promised,
but that’s not politically correct lingo,
-
Nothing up my sleeve Plenty in my brain
-
the chase man, it's all about the chase
-
-
Oh the painful trials of enduring
the want-to-be wax poetics
-
-
I guess one could call me a lyricist,
trying my best to educate on the sly
-
|