TRUMP SMELLS B.O.
TRUMP SMELLS B.O.
BUST UP THE BEAT TO INTRODUCE IT'S TEMPO
GOT ME PLACES TO GO
SILENCE IS GOLDEN GOT BLOOD THAT"S UNFOLDING
SITS IN HIS IVORY TOWER ENGAGED IN THE WALL WHILE HE SITS IN HIS IVORY TOWER
TRUMP SMELLS B.O.
I know years to know used to being with your history
eager long to achieve
needs to take a nice hot shower
going down to the wire...,
got choices with the most chances highway glances
glad he switch his Depends tyed beauty within,
another one bites the dust with the whole world in a rush
doing cart wheels out in the mood a sought of time to renew
Trump Smells B.O. which way should we go ?
some are in a trance
a given chance at any romance
Pac sought love through concrete
on again out again cry for relief
Can We Talk ?
hit a sister mister said to high HITLER,
SONG REMAINS THE SAME SOUGHT EVEN SHADE
LOVE FAXED IN WHERE IT IS WE DEPEND
YOU GOT TO KNOW WHERE YOU ARE iNSTEAD YOU HIDE LIKE ROSANNE BARR
NEEDS TO STOP BY INSTEAD OF GETTING HIGH
VAPE
with heightened fresh tender moments like these drift away to the sea...
suffering long in an empty room my pain drifts in illusive rights become pure
day by day we hear the sound of a lonely owl out in desperation my stomach leaks
cheer up good cousin as the thoughts simmer again back from beyond cracking,
this is enough of a good spot gross way back sat the owl in fact through radio
Trump Smells B.O. button down the captors embrace the hellos
I'm bust out the beat to increase the tempo...,
Silently in the dreams eating delicious ice cream,
I maybe a man of all mans,
P.U.
in the port of storm we call commercial radiating plugged in seperation,
fine darling pillars the growth of here after old man sit by the log cabin
at night he would take a pee outside his window taking heed to nature's dream
the owl would suddenly draw empty nothing but framed silence in togetherness
our cameras freshly made eating potato dumplings...
I aim human fresh under my wings,
look to the sun to help you get by...
Comments
HAD TO WRITE FROM THE HEART
A PIECE FROM THE HEART
your poem
is very physical (oral) and really wants to be read aloud, as a performance poem.
the final stranza is very illusive and abstract:
in the port of storm we call commercial radiating plugged in seperation,
fine darling pillars the growth of here after old man sit by the log cabin
at night he would take a pee outside his window taking heed to nature's dream
the owl would suddenly draw empty nothing but framed silence in togetherness
our cameras freshly made eating potato dumplings...
I aim human fresh under my wings,
look to the sun to help you get by...
each one of these lines is very interesting in a surrealist way, but are not connected and sounds like a peyote dream.
But there is a concrete theme in the poem to that point, connecting with the daily chatter of Trumpism in a thoughtful and powerful way. I would seek to make more accessible that connection, in the last stanza. The reader can't get into your head, you have to craft it.
I'D LOVE TO READ PIECE AT NEARBY bARNES & NOBEL IN THE FUTURE
THANK YOU ,
YES ITS A WINK TO TAKE A ROUTINE IN THE STORAGE OF A MAD HOUSE..,
LOVE TO READ IT OUT LOUD IF GIVEN THE CHANCE,
WOULD LOVE WEIRDELF READ IT ON SOUNDCLOUD..,
PERHAPS HE WILL CHOOSE TO HELP ME.
GOD BLESS !