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Poems about Beat
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When today is slipping away from you, what do you do?
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It always seems to be / / that something on TV / / or something that I read / / strikes a cord in me. / / Then as something on my / / "heart strings" is strumming / / my emotions begin humming. / / Sometimes I laugh /
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There was a young boy named David / whose parents were always quite livid. / Young David was very bold / he didn't do as he was told. / David had several bad habits. / If he wanted something he'd grab it. / He'd run, cry and shout. / He'd th
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I saw a spider on the wall / and watched as it began to crawl / towards a fly upon the wall. / I simply had to wonde
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Tell me of the things I ask. / / Tell me of your years gone past. / / Tell me of the things you've done. / / The work you did, how you had fun. / / Tell me of the games you played. / / Where you've gone, where you've stayed. /
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I need inspiration / something oh so fine. / A thought sent down from Heaven / that would be devine. / / I need inspiration / something to make you think. / A thought to melt your mind / because it is so deep. / / I need inspiration
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I met an old man in the park one day / / when I sat down beside him, he said to go play. / / At first I thought that he was real mad / / then I decided he was just sad. / / I pretended to fart and that made him smile / / we both h
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Simple syllables surcease the subtleties of sonnet. / Prevent the parable of passion from provoking. / Appease appearances of awe and aspiration. / Depress the deepened decent of desperation. / Evoke the elicited elevation of emotional emancipatio
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Readin' / Writin' / POETRY / Hooks me / like a drug. / / I just want / a little bit
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You think all Rednecks are stupid? / / You think they're reckless? / / Well, you haven't met me yet. / / I'm a pure bred, home grown Redneck. / / I'm a real nice person. / / Just don't get me angry. / / I fish, / / I use
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Sometimes I write my poems / 'cause there's something I must say. / Sometimes I write my poems / to pass the time away. / Sometimes I'll write a poem / 'bout something I have seen. / Sometimes I'll write a poem / 'bout a really
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When he was a baby, / he'd just start to cry. / Wasn't nothing wrong with him. / He's mad's the reason why! / / When he was a toddler, / h
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I sat upon the potty, / when I was a little boy. / I knew if I could do something, / it would bring my parents joy. / I'm sure I tried for
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I'll wait in the shed / So I can creep back to my head / You said you were true / But am not like you / Is it ours / Is it yours / Is it your head / Is it your floor / In the chimera of your existence / In doubt of your sickness
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She smiled at me, the day before last, while passing through the halls.
I barely saw her because we had passed pressed against separate wa
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Your squalid options aren’t enough, / Your hood and knife call no one’s bluff / As no one’s here to set you straight / And no one’s here now to berate / You for the loses you have made / And no one stops you until you’ve paid / For every singl
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My fakest truth:
I tend to believe you.
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My mind is a corroded cacophony - / a silly symphony of anxious ennui, / poundingly played by a fruity Sadducee / who put LSD in his caffine-free green tea, / and finished with a final finale / performing a guitar solo ala Tin Pan Alley.
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Light the candles, serve the wine
Look at these blanks, my clouds.
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This verse was orginally written as a slam.........I have performed it many times at different spoken word events
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by bowmore bill
302 words, 1 comment,
on Aug 25 6:14 PM 2006
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by Windhover
139 words, 4 comments,
on Mar 15 3:16 PM 2006. Reward
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by
297 words, 1 comment,
on Nov 3 6:31 PM 2006
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by
210 words,
on Apr 24 2:38 PM 2006
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by
151 words, 3 comments,
on Apr 24 2:36 PM 2006
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by
125 words, 6 comments,
on Mar 8 7:11 AM 2006
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by ocerus
212 words, 2 comments,
on Aug 10 9:41 PM 2005
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