James The Poet

Listen listen, I need you to understand and pay attention. The last time I took stage at bethel to perform, they kicked me out the poetry spot. Probably because my rhymes were so dope, I had the crowd meltin, cause my poetry hot. Not to mention, I threw a couple of sexually erotic phrases and curse words in there, for the poetry cops. I mean but Im just looking for somewhere to express myself freely, and maybe, grab me a couple of poetry THOTS. They don’t even understand the perks that poetry got. I mean, im one of them occasionally deep niggas, so this week I might decide to poetry hop. I claim I would love to perform, but I get on stage and read my poems, so I poetry flop. But I use the excuse that Im still beginning, so I expect you to give me my poetry props. I use hand gestures and signals, to disguise my fear, as poetry props. Im sociaciable, so I get cool with the best poets, so at the performances, Im like poetry rocks. Now tell the people something they don’t know about the poetry-papa doc. I was looking for somewhere to express myself FREEly; FREEing, Me to accept myself. From thoughts that at present prevent me from resting well. Ha, I forgot that poets don’t go to church. Like I forgot that the cross came with so much hurt. This is where I came, came, came, here; the stage. This is where I go to blame, all the people who judge me so critically, just to find out here, the stage accepts no differently. Oh the pain, pain, pain. This is where I come to create my mind, where I give life to these inanimate dreams through these vitality lines. Hoping that I can change lives, or at least take away the bitter anger, with sweet lies. So I finally decided to replace my stone with a mic, just to realize the in place, they replaced their mics with knives. Ive learned that you cant teach a new dog to recognize old tricks; but an old master will re-present an old collar at a different size. So I really see them re-presenting hate as a new, kind! I should have noticed when I saw how quick they were to reform a new art form as a true sign. Do you really want to do this? We can pop through a few clips, and you can dare to jump in-between me and my “eye.” Na, I wouldn’t think that wise I’ve been planning to catch this body for a while. What dog, you thought this was a poem? This is really an obituary in dis-guise.