Black Poetry : Poem: Home, Sweet, Home

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by LyricalOasis, Jul 14, 2003.

  1. LyricalOasis

    LyricalOasis Member MEMBER

    United States
    Jul 14, 2003
    Likes Received:
    (This Poem was written by my man and he just wants to know what people think of his poetry, so please reply, Thank You, Nymphy)


    The war that’s going on is not overseas buts seeks deep in my land
    From bills that shoot cannons to my parents pockets rising their pride just to ask

    Infatuated with struggles of money they say I’ll pay you back when they borrow
    They prescribed the devil’s medicine that made Elvis hotter than the pills that he swallowed

    That caused me nights of such sorrow so many days I had beef with that slob
    If my thoughts don’t kill em I’ll call a hitman with bigger guns to finish the job

    To finish the job with sought off shotguns and make sure that he’s offed in minutes
    I think I’ll let his life hang for another second so when the bullets hit he can feel it

    Paybacks a ***** isn’t it?, Now you wish you didn’t treat ya own kids like ****
    I’ll make sure I won’t repent to pay you a visit so you and the devil can suck on my ****

    You spit in my face so many times GOD can’t even recognize my emotions

    No more can he explore the thoughts I’ve endured from tears I poured into oceans

    No more can respect be held in this household of yours so therefore I look beyond and ponder into those red eyes of yours
    And figure out who put your lights out and how Saddam recited his speeches to increase your demise of war

    One time the lord woke me up to feel brand new and set my goals to withstand the day ahead
    “He’s never been able to take care of us” I’m divorcing my spouse is what she said

    Things won’t change this weather whether I’m alive and well or 100 years after I’m dead
    Ex-coordination of infestation of emotions sleeping in separate beds

    I propose a toast of a death wish to a deathbed of a poor soul of insufficiency
    Destined from your procrastination driving my dreams of prosperity to become my reality

    The deficiency of your mind is making this blood of mine dehumanize and cries by turning blue
    I realize these trials you pile beneath me to redefine you as the scum under my shoe

    From me to you, I can tale you hate the taste of defeat That doesn’t mean you don’t have to feed me just because you got my mother to eat

    *****, the devil’s flower blossomed on the 27th of February The odds of rain on the 2nd of July is like finding a warm day in January

    Your captivity can’t hold the soul and mind that lies in this fine young man
    I demand this fire inside me won’t die unless the family ends up homeless again

    To sleep on benches of sin and again waiting like a slave on the Underground Railroad under a carport
    To get approval for a goodnights sleep and to be well rested for death on a 9 hour hike to the airport

    To sell for the best by selling cassettes and buying cigarettes to quench my mother’s thirst
    Before you feed her lungs diseases think of the beasts in our stomach that needs to be conquered first

    *****, you can lick these shots from my glock known as my pen
    When I write it decibels hear it as a present to me they make you pay for the devil’s future sins

    When your voice builds up to speak it reeks of a scheme like highway robbery
    You’re not sticking me or Niki up with those wanted lines of needed currency

    Stop it your killing me as I laugh and surpass those vicious threats
    Of beating me to death you couldn’t do that even if you had Alexander the Great in your chest

    As your debt pisses on you relentlessly I’ll rest and relax so easily
    Easily I’ll sit back with Bacardi drinks as GOD kisses furnish me fervidly

    My principalities will forever be a part of me as a human being
    Not a part of you a rotten piece of semen from the devil’s kingdom Mr. Rickey Kenon

    Fleeing from our freedom as you take your three the hard way
    Hard days of bologna and bread eaten strolling on Forest Parkway

    Until the day I die your eyes will bleed and cry of fear because I’m comin for you
    Hunting you down with bullets and rounds of thoughts sought out to murder you

    Hurting you slower than Chinese torture because payback’s a *****
    GOD feared this day he knew I was comin knowing you’re not worth the saliva in my spit

    Haamid Kenon
    03’ ***
  2. LovelyGoldenOne

    LovelyGoldenOne Well-Known Member MEMBER

    Apr 16, 2003
    Likes Received:
    College Student, Bookstore Clerk
    ...down south...
    d*amn....this was so emotionally heartfelt...i'm lovin' it...
  3. PlayWitItPimp05

    PlayWitItPimp05 Well-Known Member MEMBER

    May 28, 2003
    Likes Received:
    Student at MHS.
    a perfectly blighted planet where soul-searching i
    he's droppin knowledge fa sho
    its hard to find a mate who u can be poetically
    in tune with

    :heart: :heart: PLAY :heart: :heart: