Why I’m The Greatest Poet
Now you kno what happens when I write rhymes.
These lines move you through space and time
These are the word that make people listen
To the sounds that twinkle and glisten
I recite poems with an urgency because I’m on a mission.
They appear in my mind like a prophet with a vision
I put pen to pad
And write so furious like a rapper gone mad
People like the rhymes so much that if I don’t recite they become sad.
When people do hear though, they say “It is absurd.
The way son flips them adjectives, nouns, and verbs.”
I know the words are way smoother than Medora’s curves
Moving to the rhythm of a jazz verve.
Deep words that strike an exposed nerve
Or puerile lines that expose the inner perv.
I’m a lyrical assassin that shot down wack poets
Because they lack passion
Or a sense of verbal fashion
They cannot dress words in semantics.
Or compose decent poems that make sense.
Hearing poems by wack poets drive dense
You better acknowledge; truth is word
I am the greatest poet you have ever heard.
I am experimenting with a more spoken-word format. I figure I would challenge myself. What do you think???
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Is it wrong to have such an instinctual urge to slap the shit out of my roommates?? I do not think it is wrong. Someone better pray for him because the next time he eats my food and complains when someone asks him to share, I will beat his ass like he owes me money.
Posted by Epsilonicus at 10:07 AM
Thursday, October 13, 2005
It is Fall Break and it is lovely. I have the aprtment to myself. This means it is peaceful and quiet. I love my roommmates and all but there are times when you want to be alone. It is hard to get that time when there are 4 people sharing an apartment. I hope this 4-day break goes well. I say this because you never know how these things may go. Something could happen and it can ruin your whole break; i.e the girlfriend being upset. So far, it is going good so I cannot complain.I am about to go. I promise next time to add some poetry. I just have not had the inspiration to write. Now, I fell like I may have it. Until next time, peace and hair grease.
Posted by Epsilonicus at 6:10 PM