RealGM

Hello old friends, welcome home again, settle in, grab a recliner.
Let's gather at the knees of the wiser olden timers
on the porch among the grampas, whippersnappers, wizenheimers
rock the chair and whittle up a tale.

This is not a gathering to test who will prevail.
For wit that's shared cares not a whit who won
it's a simple continuation of that tale long once begun
aeons past against the dark: we gathered in a huddle
sparks lofted from the logs, the old mothers begun to mutter
the greybacks nod and grunt and gesture with their hands
lo, those many years ago in familiar distant lands.

Stumble forward stagger through a million years of time.
See the chain of dominos, triggeraction in a line.
that resulted clitter clatter
in this tapping of the keys
these words can now appear these digits settle freeze
and throb afront your eyes
their meaning now unkinking
in your synapse jumping gaps
as your brain is now en-linking
the words as they occur understanding: this cat 'linkin'
shapes image with a phrase into my cortex, let it sink in.

We are the story telling animal, history our difference
knowledge shared and spread and passed, discarded with undue diffidence
our collective intelligence is only what endures
we can show you with our actions but what lasts longest is our words

In that copse it was a leopard, hungry, with a hiss,
she leapt at lefty-long-arms he jumped back while streaming piss
I grabbed the nearest stick like so!
like RAH! I threw it fierce
and struck her in the eye like YAH! Like YAH! and in it pierced
and then it was a hunt, not a hunted, not a fleeing:
I'm the mighty hunter, not lefty long-arms running peeing...

Beware my troop my clan, there are leopards in the night.
Keep your sticks all sharpened,
may your leopards lose their sight.

And so on, generations, flying skyward like the sparks that leave the fire.
Give heed to the wisdom of your elders / better liars.
It's always only now, but we only see the past.
but trust the future will arrive:
leave them something that will last.

Share your words.
Hear.

==================================

Gentlemen. Ladies. Others. Welcome back to the new iteration of the old poetry slam thread. As always the point here is simply to burn off a few excess words while passing the time. Pick any format,rhyming or not, haiku the five seven five. Limericks, R.hythmic A.merican P.oetry. Ain't no never matter. Simply drop a couple sentences of tantalizing patter.

Declaim how big of a badass you are. Or mock your shortfalls. Do whatever. Feel free to be an eedjit, or to tap out something clever.

Enjoy. Your boy. -doc.

nothing to see here, just saying 'hello' TO MY FELLOW EAST COAST VIGILANTES. OOPS, I HIT THE CAPSLOCK. SORRY FOR SHOUTING SO LOUD.

The sky is changing
Dark clouds bow to powder white
Our curse is no more

Doc's I-Am,
Anew. part two:


doc dastard, the bastard
reintroducing
the prodigious prolific
rhyme style-- reproducing
quick like the tribbles
potent as the pearly clear fluid that dribbles... -- no wait:
deadly as ebola
dire as the bombs that were dropped by the Enola...
...No Homo,
or anyway H. Sapiens.
My style engenders incipient sapience
& awaken-ens
all sleeping minds, cures the blind, heals the lame
acts as tailored retrovirus as the cure for 'no game'
Dropping science Nobel-calibre,
postulates the new phrenology, measure psyches w/ meta-calipers
Drop knowledge like gnosis
no peer reviewed journals
I commit combat hypnosis as 'Docta Nocturnal
East Coast vigilante'
who leaves criminals in terror
girls with dampened panties
dreamily swooning
from a moment's hand-holding, canoodling, gentle spooning.

I'm welcome anywhere from the mansions to the shanties.
And if you sleep on my greatness I' raid the goods from your pantry.
I dance on the gibbet, I swing from the gantry
I buckle all swashes with aplomb and panache
critics is to doc as ganja peter tosh:
I smoke 'em
'like a stepping razor better watch my size,
I'm dangerous' not plagiarous: a line in homage
so pardon me and parlez vous
and sacre bleu and quel dommage!
and if you need a rest, catch a breath,
from keeping pace with me
ain't no shame, ain't no blame,
ain't no body that can race with me
I kick in the after burners you won't even see a trace of me
unless I write it on the sky, miles wide: P.E.A.C.E.


that's just to give a taste of me,
who I be: D.O. C.
so delicious that it lingers
and if you don't appreciate:
no big deal, no middle fingers,
no belated retroactive from-the-neck-up sort of briss
I suspect you're prob'ly happy, since: 'ignorance is bliss'.

Or so I'm told, I wouldn't know, but I'll tell you this much:
true wisdom's pretty joyful, and being genius doesn't suck.
Just take my word for it.
Later.

(A moment's musing from the D. O. C.
who's your daddy, like Vader).

miller31time wrote:The sky is changing
Dark clouds bow to powder white
Our curse is no more

Very nice. How about this paradox:

How can a new Wall
swiftly rising to great heights
bring sunlight, not gloom?

New poetry thread
Named after the Phoenix Suns
Locking after six?

before i get verbose and let my mouth run loose
here's an alias i'd like to introduce
screen name: daSwami
A realGM Zues
Many times accused of TOS abuse
my posts on this site are only meant to seduce
not to induce delusion, disturb or confuse
daSwami don't need to make no excuse
cuz my posts intoxicate
like Lebron's mama's booty juice

Rereads... (I got to fix where they don't scan -- eh. I'll fix 'em later).

LyricalRico wrote:New poetry thread
Named after the Phoenix Suns
Locking after six?

Who made him a mod?
half those twenty thousand posts
were smiley faces

daSwami wrote:before i get verbose and let my mouth run loose
here's an alias i'd like to introduce
screen name: daSwami
A realGM Zues
Many times accused of TOS abuse
my posts on this site are only meant to seduce
not to induce delusion, disturb or confuse
daSwami don't need to make no excuse
cuz my posts intoxicate
like Lebron's mama's booty juice

Swami's fertile brain
well-watered by the sprinkler
grows loose like kudzu.

Free verse.

Once in hoboken I sat quiet near the water
was some punk band, some dive bar
Shudder to Think, or Cakelike or Yo La Tengo. what ever.
and I & tinitus took a moments break from simulated riot
for what would be a cigarette
but wasn't, no offense
never needing the excuse for fresh air
a moment's thought
a melancholic sense of self-importance
It is I, alone, outside
a rebel's rebel

Had a minute by the weeds watching New york City
Twin Towers still there, significant like Mordor, red warning blinking a semaphore of danger
twice as significant in retrospect
even then, on a still night, across the river you could hear the ambulances, cop cars
all over the island, echoing, distant
lunatics run loose and free
and I'm distantly aware I'm just there trying to be cool.
In Hoboken.
In New York.
In College.
The whole deal.

Once in Brooklyn it was me
in some abandoned werehouse district,
helping a roommate move to a squat-loft
or watching some bad production
or helping techies load in, but finished and waiting on a ride
and more probably, trying to get a girl to wonder what's my name I bet.
That loner guy.
it's three in the morning on the steel stoop
sky that shade of industrial orange, the way it never darkens
me and the girl are quiet
see a shadow detach and scuttle
cat ripple across the street
nervous as a ninja,
a CIA agent, cover blown
disappear to shadow and gone.
When seconds later it was three dogs,
pariahs,
lean as addicts
working in team
one sniffing while two look, then switch
pack hunting elusive pussy.
Then also gone.

Dunno.

Fourty now. Bought a house. They let me.
So I sometimes wonder how responsible adulthood, kicking and screaming, could be formed from moments of pointless poignance.
Like I have any advice to give
about anything more than wasting time.

And if I were a smoker now is when I'd pause
Watch the smoke coil and form patterns.
Flick-- arc bounce sparks
Exhale. Turn and head back in.

The Poetry …
poe try … po tree …po try
poetry’s some letters, not assumin, just riffin.
like smooth flowing bball and jazz on a sultry summer night.
running blowin'andsuckin' wind going Up for it and
then backing down for some serious d & b sharp NOW
.... bangin a pick and rollin with some brass
just picking a spot … to stop and pop
hey if that didn’t fall
just find some rhythm
on the next beat… next time down the court.
endless combinations, endless movement,
until that last trumpet call.,
Play On.

Plotintelli wrote:The Poetry …
poe try … po tree …po try
poetry’s some letters, not assumin, just riffin.
like smooth flowing bball and jazz on a sultry summer night.
running blowin'andsuckin' wind going Up for it and
then backing down for some serious d & b sharp NOW
.... bangin a pick and rollin with some brass
just picking a spot … to stop and pop
hey if that didn’t fall
just find some rhythm
on the next beat… next time down the court.
endless combinations, endless movement,
until that last trumpet call.,
Play On.

Beatnik riff. Love it. Will respond first chance I get:

Surround the NBA with chainlink, pave the wood with blacktop, dangle chain from the iron,
play it late night when the streetlights buzz like cicadas
sell the drinks in paper bags
make the commentators homeless
veterans
of whatever internal wars the right side of their hallucinations war
with the left side of their compulsions
play it all in heatwaves like hazy memory of flashback
and it couldn't get better.

Jazz on the periphery: the horns of traffic, some sass from a second story window to a man locked out below. kids climb a streetlight to pirate power, the monkey dangle lope of upward scramble

and all the while the rumble squeak of footsteps sudden stutter stops trying to shake pursuit,
outrace opponents
make the improbable evident
happenstance
matter of fact manifest in a sweet silky spiral of a lay-up touring the rim once twice three before it dribbles down the drain

Ball game. Who nex?

I thought this thread created a forum
And words would crackle like in a storm yum
Ideas could fly and make the evening go by
But they really just gets ignored where’s the fun son

This could be a great place to stop, and linger
To shout out or throw up the finger
But all the brains are in bed except in one rascals head
who trumps concept to throw one sick zinger

This stinkin’ summer’s so hot s'about to sizzle
You can smell DC’s brains start to drizzle
So pick up the pace and jump into the race
And throw down some of your rhymin' schizzle.

(and feel free to funk it all up too ...
we got a lot of time to kill until Orlando)

Plotintelli wrote:I thought this thread created a forum
And words would crackle like in a storm yum
Ideas could fly and make the evening go by
But they really just gets ignored where’s the fun son

This could be a great place to stop, and linger
To shout out or throw up the finger
But all the brains are in bed except in one rascals head
who trumps concept to throw one sick zinger

This stinkin’ summer’s so hot s'about to sizzle
You can smell DC’s brains start to drizzle
So pick up the pace and jump into the race
And throw down some of your rhymin' schizzle.

(and feel free to funk it all up too ...
we got a lot of time to kill until Orlando)

BOOM tack tack BOOM kidack
tikka: BOOM tack tack, BOOM kidack
Phonetically kinetic: nevermind the philistines
take a technical approach to manifesting your dreams
in an A-to-the-A-to-the B-A-scheme
if that's all that'll satisfy you

Doc DOOM black, Doctor DOOM be black
wiki: 'DOOM's black', Doctor DOOM be Black
Prophetic: it's pathetic, but the hell ya gonna do?
but form the backbone of a one-man crew
well if you need a back-up, I can supply you

I got rhymes by the fistful,
whether warlike or wistful
limitless gifts like kris kringle's sack

metaphors meteorical
arsenals rhetorical
pre-aimed and ready to launch the attack

the Doctor Nocturnal
burns with eternal
radiance unfadeable, don't you worry: never fear

life interfered
i went stealth, disappeared
But I'm back son, the fun's right here.

doclinkin wrote:"life interfered
i went stealth, disappeared"
yea mon & here’s hoping your family’s ship sails on calmer waters

"But I'm back son, the fun's right here."

i noticed. When i saw you
“Surround the NBA with chainlink, pave the wood with blacktop,
dangle chain from the iron,”
‘twas pure Rap ture .

Anyway, I’m off to enrich my uranium for a bit, here’s something
I needed to scrape off my shoe before I get in the car.
Cheers

You can start up your Guards- but they might not stop a thing,
& if they go shooting blanks, that war won’t make you king.
In the picture looking Forwards; either big or small,
though opponents can run from it, mental muscle makes them crawl.
So Center your intentions, and try to grip the dream;
Remembering,
“The Main Ingredient of Stardom is the Rest of The Team.”
J. Wooden

Nice. Free style response:

The rest of the team, no rest for the restless, late night wading through the shallows of breathless anticipation waiting with baited breath, some say sleep is a kin to the cousin of death.

free writing automatic let the keys click
without pause for applause not laws to this schtick
simply tap the dimpled squares unprepared for the result,
form a personal religion, onesself as the cult
of personality, the duality
of a nameless sorta fame
anonymous notoriety so you can't catch the blame
for unchecked untrammelled wasting of time
late night self-distracting manufacturing rhyme
automatically
thematically
linked to not much,
allowing the happenstance of rhyme to be the only crutch,
all free style, free from style or any poetic graces
just a defragg and emptied cache so's to blow out all traces
of dust from the ducts:
we're basically functional if certainly fuct.
Or so the evidence suggests.
I got to dodge bullets since I won't wear a vest,
stay in stealth mode so you can ninja past death
and escape.
digital hero who don't wear a cape.
don't leave a trace on the camera or tape.

Scrape shoe? Spose I doo, me too
like this rhyme without stopping
perhaps all rap's simply crap sorta doggerel dropping,
like a hound at the curb crooked back in his squatting
to leave a mess or a message for whatever dogs next
no art to the craft just an audible mess
yes whatever, being clever, without purpose or point
for the fxck of the funk just to stink up the joint,
'free style, free from style, or from poetic grace'
times you just gotta dump out the waste,
like i said.'
so pardon me for the crap I just dropped out my head.
late night, it's tomorrow, so I'd best go to bed.


But feel free to drop in and waste time any time.
Don't have to be good, and it don't have to rhyme.
Anybody.

Drunken poem on Friday night/Saturday morning when I was waiting on Metro in Bethesda.

Sweat drips down my brow.
Bald as I am forward I plow.
Love me or heate me here I stand.
Love the love not the demand.
Please take this for what it is,
Not at what is the wish.

This one is for you.....

Posting

Disjointed verses and ramblings,
Sober or not my mind is scrambling.
To put word to the thoughts,
Migraine with images fought.
Clearly my speech impedes,
The written words I've freed.
Concious i write froth,
My mind reads like a sloth.
My inteligence is in question.
This poem has no destination.
I'm the dumbest smart person i know.
That I think I'm smart is without flow.

abra ca scab ra
an ally cat scam
man your so lucky
you didn’t land on your can.

I get so blinded in those metro lights
I stopped taking it home, after game nights.
Wish alcohol came .... in time-release
and would just let me go off to do whatever I please.
But sometimes I get off at the same stop as yours,
too bad payback’s a bitch, and she seldom demurs.

It’s an ancient game to drink with the Muses
We laugh and play and then they confusus,
Well I don’t care if I feel like a fright
I’m just glad next week brings a new Friday night.

Cheers !

Placeholder for a line, will unpack this later if it gits a minute:

Invade your mainframe Multply like a virus, ink up your reeds scribble on your papyrus, scramble over your sides like somalian pirates, unstoppable, not locked up not coppable, constantly rocking like autistics, uncroppable I bleed out the edges of the image and continue, carte blanche ambassador welcome to any venue, direct from the chef without checking the menu, a story with no conclusion don't press continue, I echo reverberate unforgotten within you a constant refrain, watch me as I fingerpaint on the walls of your brain, dadoo dee dee-- got to hear that shxt again... and again and again and a gain...