Thursday, April 23, 2015

THE IMPETUOUS OF ANGER

Context lost...

RLJ








The Impetuous of Anger 


There is an odd subculture of American life today…
It lives just under the surface of common culture.
Its denizens are sniping assassins who won’t come out to play…
Rather, they throw out barbs and insults for silly torture!

They refuse to look between the lines of the written text!
They pounce upon the subject matter with claws bared as sport.
They do not have a single clue about that mystery word… “Context!”
They do not think beyond the moment as they hold Kangaroo court!

Everybody is an individual who does not link mind to mind with others.
Humans get along with each other better when they refuse to be a Sniper!
No one accepts another person undercutting his hard earned druthers.
And sniping from the outside will never make you fuller and riper!

How many people are millionaires today based solely upon context?
How many people get their life in order solely based upon context?
How many wars have been created solely upon context?
How many people miss their calling based solely upon context?

Every person reading this missive will contextualize these words their way.
Some of them will draw zero context, to instead criticize, bitch and moan.
Others will absolutely understand every reference I have to say.
To them. I say… ‘May your mind be a sacred bejeweled kingly throne!’

The reason for this piece of poetry is “The Impetuous of Anger.”
This writer feels the need to push back at the sniping jerks of the internet space.
Intelligence must be embraced with context hanged on a gold plated hanger.
If you do not understand written context -- the snot is still on your immature face!

RLJ

Friday, January 2, 2015

ALL KINDS OF HELL




ALL KINDS OF HELL
(Wasco, California)


Your game is as disposable as a dry peach pit, 
Because your rap is so full of bullshit! 
Your sincerity is tired and lame,
Like your attitude is worthless blame.

You say you're a gangster and a thug ­-
Because of the oppression by 'the man.' 
I view you as a pitiful, lost little bug!
You're only 16, with your head deep in the sand.

No one has oppressed you, stupid ass! 
You live in the land of the blame game.
Your problem is you've been given a blank pass.
You are a spoiled brat without any aim.

Talk to your mother and learn something! 
Breath some fresh air and get rid of the idiot 'bling.' 
Get your ass back in school!
You can't swim and you are drowning in life's deep pool!

You’re not a man, as of yet.
You’re running around being a stupid fly in a dangerous net.
Home is where your game should be honed.
These streets will only get you battered and stoned.

So, be the one in a hundred who becomes enlightened by the street rope.
You’ve tasted the dope, you’ve smelled the dope, you’ve been a dope.
The horror you will face as an alternate reality of the continued actions you steer?
Life inside the hellhole of a prison I, your dad, fights through every goddamn year!

DAD