Tag Archives: poem

Bomb A** Eggs (WordPresident #20)

Inspired by rain and my son. Only 1000 IQ and Big PP will understand.

Pitter patter of baby Jesus tears on the orange, blue, green and yellow panes
Pitter patter of Jesús tiny feet across the hardwood
Until he knocked the lava lamp to the floor
The higher ground is the coffee table
“Ahhh that’s hot!”
Splishy splashy into the galette des rois
Excuse my French, that’s molten chocolate
Fly like MJ
To the wall, get high like the boyfriend of MJ
Now the tar heels and 10 little piggies are safe in Charlotte’s web
The flash of lightning enlightened him on, where he parked his race car bed
The thunder stole some brodie’s thunder and made the Thunderbird’s alarm go off
Bolted to the bolts and pushed the little red button
“Ahhh that’s not hot!”
Thanks to terrible two’s temper tantrum T-Bird hasn’t left the nest
“Ahhh that’s hot!”
The pitter patter of our amigo off set is 172 centimeters on the growth chart
But the cries in Spanish takes off the popcorn ceiling, my monte negro
“Tell me you’re JKing? That babbling was about something else, baby boy”
“You remember the little red button? Oh! The red button there kid, don’t ever, ever touch the red button!”
“Now I’m kicking these bomb ass scrambled eggs off the airplane”
“Go to your woom and fall asleep at the wheel”
“Look at him! Walking like he drunk” SMH
“Aye, B.C. , please catch some Z’s so my XY can go from E to F in his V”
The F stands for full, not ‘cause you got some of my bomb ass eggs
Only Special K between the box and the bag for U … SWERVE
“You’sa corn pops”
Nah, the hand that rocks the cradle just cares about passing the rock to the hot hand
There’s holes in de-fense
Shoot the J, shoo-shoo-shoot it
No matter if he’s the cereal killer and I’m being a pig, the PTO is still spent having Life for breakfast
So I guess my son caught the W? I’ll take that L and right on cue J-R lets me know it’s the lowercase l to remind me I’m still number 1
But yo! Our last time out, short hand ticked me off asking me to read text messages for his bedtime story
No-no-no-no-no wonder you saying G-G-G-G like 50 Cent instead of goo-goo ga-ga
GN, I’ma let you get some R & R
But at 0600 hours if you don’t have your walkie talkie right the games stop I’m throwing Green Eggs and Ma’am at you

Where On The Doll Did He Touch You?

Where on the Barbie doll did he touch you?
The pessimist manicured fingernail points to the cup full
Before I could chug along she made me spit out, ‘what, two?!’
Where else on the Barbie doll did he touch you?
Turn it over, flip it around? Ermahgerd! A finger up the butt too?!
Just when I was losing all hope
I ask the same question to a different girl than befo’
“Play with another doll, Barbz doesn’t have a soul”
If he made you feel alive why did you let him go?
“Was a good guy but I pointed at Chucky’s back hi-de-ho”
“And it cost me dearly, I pointed at the arm and leg on G.I. Joe”
Got a rise outta her when I pointed at the armpits on Elmo
Nananananananana-no
That meant I wanna wrap my arm around you and console
“Or you’re trying to put me under your wing to smell your Dove”
It’s Speed Stick, and I pointed at Passport Bear’s cockpit, that’s why you only get half-a-hug

Hush Puppies (WordPresident #19)

Warning: Only people with high iq and big pp will understand the following dankness:

I call ‘em defeated

My dogs are barking in these hush puppies

Dr. Scholl sho’ can talk to animals, said this little piggy didn’t go “wee-wee” when the tears piss bolted to the booties you’re in, the boar cried woof

Foot counting sheep, I’m sleep-walking catching Z’s

The cousin of six-feet-deep easy as A-B-C-1-2-3, when in one position long enough

That’s why the cousin of life is relocation

Even if it’s the same job, least it come with different faces

My boss don’t care if I can barely move

I want a boss that’ll send me home without a box

Now I’m on a busty bus keeping abreast of bottoms up – when they no longer sitting abreast I’m flying like a Great Tit but aww shucks I don’t have strong feet like ‘em and gotta use the poles for support

Then I heard “I’m seeing how you gotta use your hands son. Why don’t you take a seat right over there?” I wanted to bounce these checks

The 13’s, legs open, tongue out, ca-ream, but running back in these kicks isn’t a chief asset

And so the seat got taken from me like a game of musical chairs

I was listening to the 3rd song on Good Girl Gone Bad

I guess they was between “Something In The Way” and “Endless, Nameless”

Uhhh nevermind this is my stop

24 25th Hours (WordPresident #18)

Caution: This is a very slow read.

I unbuttoned my shirt and showed her my taco meat

She unzipped her pants and showed me her taco meat

We both came outta our shell

The sloppy toppings: the sour cream shredded the cheese but let us get use to two’s day

Because we been use to the prefix of the day before, single and alone

And you know what was just making me borderline insane? The fuckin’ day had 24 25th hours

He who wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth lives with a plastic fork in his BFGoodrich

I’m tired of faking like I’m best friends with Benjamin Franklin

When I’m too sick to shake a doctor’s hand, not smart enough to know I’m not equal to a polymath

She told me to name my Ford after her, Alexis

Reached in her Wranglers and gave me $700 in all 20’s for some Goodyears

Became my Alexa on the road to success

Now I just don’t get from A to B

I get from A to Z

That shredded cheese is now cheesecake

How fitting for Juniors first birthday

My lil’ boo-boo gone love the bandaids on Mr. Popular

My big booboo sat on the John longer tonight, determined to have more kids to drop off at the pool

Me, I just wanna break the cycle and take the first R outta ‘farther’ (and put it in Ms.)

Too bad they sound alike, that’s why I like using ‘further’ so it’s no longer confusion this is referring to U

Family all over the same lava floor, under the same popcorn ceiling, talking about flipping houses so we can get hot sauce on our Orville Redenbacher

Shhhh … the previews are starting

Tomorrow should be a big day for my YouTube channel

Joy Lenz (WordPresident #17)

Digging my grave with a spoon and fork
A shovel looks like a spoon
A rake looks like a fork
But this the spoon I use to stab the cereal with before eating it
This the fork I use to put 4 bullet holes in the film on the Salisbury steak to vent it
Sausage party at my tombstone
Pepperoni face at my tombstone
Cheesing hard by my tombstone
Sausage party at my tombstone
But it ain’t nothing pineapple about that because onions on my tombstone
And they ain’t cheesing hard by my tombstone
To you little caesars, call her pepperoni face one more time, you all fall like dominoes
Wash ‘em with a clean punch
Sounds like the kind of prom Papa John would Red Baron
My baby gotta be fly all around, shit
But if you make me a granddaddy before I turn 80 you forever groun…ded
Give Kunta Kinte your feet
Whip ya like JC After D
I knew I should’ve put your ass on B.C.
Ohh Lawd! Got me failing the spelling bee
I was just teaching you how to say your ABC’s
Went from being my apple head to being somebody’s apple bottom
But you cumming and not leaving is the problem
I got ‘em
I solve ‘em with solutions on a so-so loot man
I salute and ask for bigger problems only if God him got him and it comes with that So-So loot man
Money is a thang, Black accent
Money is a thing, white accent
Money is a tink, Irish accent
Depending on the denomination I sound different putting my money where my mouth is
Shout this … oh no! You have AirPods on and can’t hear me
Strangle you with my EarPods to see which will be the first to fall out near me
Fear me, keyboard warriors think they tough as leather and can get me from Curry long distance
Until I bounce and travel to where they lay up and show ‘em what a real currier is man
Flurries of hits bam
Do you even remember what I said earlier listen?
I’m bringing the beef to your front door
The crust to your backdoor
When I’m done you gone have to Dodo out your side-door
No more locked doors
I’m joking, this now a bad neighborhood
Took a L in your homes, essay in the papers sug-
-ar made him open up, swollen shut, tried to spit out the bitterness, silliness, it’s too late fam’
The walls closed in on the Kool-Aid man
Not a repeat of events what I’m saying
First the glass was everywhere
Then the red liquid is everywhere
Or!
First the glass was everywhere
Then the red liquid is everywhere
That’s two ways planned
Two-face scram
Gym and I? Outta here!

Wolf Spider Branch (WordPressident #16)

Inspired by the above image. As always with this series, this is a slow read due to metaphors/wordplay/double entendres.

My pale skin the cloud
My eyelashes the grass
The spider veins on my upper eyelid the branch in the sky
My tears the rain
My twitching eye the thunder
I’m the eye of the storm
But I don’t wanna be like your X-Men
They’re old news
I wanna be your May weatherman, on the other side of them zeros
When the weather girl turn sideways it makes my day a wed-ness day
How I wanna be Her Boy Friday and engage with her fergalicious humps
Trojan horses not safe for work
Lashing out, a cuss to, ‘Mur-
-rica, where it’s all about U
I’m from ‘Merica, where it’s rated E for everyone
Life ain’t a video game … unless it’s the Sims-ulation
Then it’s rated T because I took off my tee but put the T in stimulation (woohoo!)
On a whim queue days end
The type of dream you facing cause the REM to break and 3AM you waking
Bedsheets sweaty, smelling like fresh-off-the-leg-pee but it’s underneath where you clean do sprayings
I’m a mother-fucking monster, not a muthafuckin’ monster
Think long and hard about that before you get your muthafuckin’ momma
If I grab her by her ankles she grabbing her ankles
Tennessee-toe-toucher
If she’s anal about anal then it’s the beaver-teeth soul-crusher
Akin to me your brother, playa
Sucking major how I went from crushing flavor about the environment to the one who fuckin’ made ya
But I guess it all makes sense when you put ‘em together … Mother Nature

WordPressident #17 … soon