staccato is my motto
automatic fire burst
should have thought oh wait
pulled the trigger too late
like a gamer could relate
to holding fate in chamber
with no waiver or waivers
not for freedom just slavers
invaders of your homes homie
you don’t know me for real
don’t know I wont squeal
cut a deal and go fed
Dead in reality
with little drama
buried with no ID
for your crying Mama
Armed Forces
Posted in Poetry with tags control, culture, gamer, Hip Hop, Poems, Poetry, Rap, slavery, USA, video games, violence, war on 06/23/2011 by ionnesWake up Henry
Posted in Poetry on 12/03/2010 by ionnesHenry you ornery, upon thee from Barcelona
Daytona or New York, ain’t no Red Bull winter
got a sled full of dreadful, but now full off bread
gone on a trip cause you tripped man
swerving in the lane came clipped
then flipped straight ripped
through metal as petals
from a flower
during late night hours
power lines live from the set
on deck inspectors check vital signs
had too much on your mind
you gonna be just fine
but that poor family just going out to dine
whine about the wine man
but now you doing time for your crime
pantomimes of their faces you see in places
serving in good graces never replaces the dead
stains don’t come out when painted in dark red
Consumption
Posted in Poetry with tags baking, consumption, crime, culture, Hip Hop, judgement, music, philosophy, Poems, Poetry, politics, Rap, seagram, seven, USA, whiskey on 11/16/2010 by ionnesSociopath’s wrath with a mask
Seagram’s Seven in the flask
No one had to ask why he blunted
Objectification upon a birthing nation
Sensationalist claims earmarked to fame
From whence he came was an empire
Music from a liar not around a campfire
Learning from a burning desire of greed
Drinking whiskey as he made the trees bleed
Superseding humanity and life’s whole worth
Kneading the dough before he baked planet earth
Life is a fucking right
Posted in Poetry with tags highland, highland hospital, Hip Hop, law enforcement, Love, murder, music, Oakland, Poems, Poetry, politics, Rap, USA on 08/02/2010 by ionnesGenerational disrespect
Unfounded homes we found erect
Upon spawning in hades
Or way back in the eighties
Where Reagan slept
Heaven crept softly along
Changing the tune to a new song
No wages for workers
Only wall-street berzerkers
Gaining cash since birth
Attaining their girth
Worth the blood of their kin?
Where socialism is sin
Fearing truth over god
There is not even an odd
Jesus can’t pay for your healthcare
But you can for humanity’s welfare
Short stuff
Posted in Poetry on 04/26/2010 by ionnesSome roar like a lion
and bang on their chest
While eating inside
on a chicken’s breast
Born with a gift
Blessed with the size
Never knowing beauty
with piss in their eyes
Marking as many
boundaries in turn
Only with broken knees
will the tall learn
Roma blues
Posted in Poetry with tags culture, doni, Hip Hop, julio, mirko, Oakland, Poems, Poetry, Rap, roma, scudetto, toni, totti, vucinic on 02/22/2010 by ionnesTotti or Toni
who cares theyre out
Mirko has the shit im talkin about
on tired legs out on the pitch
Vucinic is a bad ass son of a bitch
on tired legs but always clutch
No Scudetto and it wont matter much
Even Julio Sergio is out for days
Doni Marangon clean sheats can amaze
PG-13 Poetry for people who watch TV
Posted in poem, Poetry with tags Afghanistan, culture, Death, freedom, heaven, hell, iraq, judgement, katrina, law enforcement, Love, MTV, murder, music, myth, News, Oakland, obama, philosophy, poem, Poetry, politics, prostitution, racism, Rap, rifle, role model, romance, shoes, slavery, TV, USA, war on 02/10/2010 by ionnesTaken so far away
on waves they grind
the slaves didn’t sway
with freedom to find
mythos ancient
imagery clearly
broken television
sincerely patient men
women watch univision
subtract through division
wishing for more
start making money
forget about the poor
now on the side honey
wife dressed up
like a playboy bunny
sores infected
drip so runny
gunny got shot
in a far away land
body sent home
still covered in sand
when he got back
supposed to start a band
name was bud black
died with rifle in his hand
they don’t show that
on MTV man
or anything else about Afghanistan.
Nothing personal
Posted in Poetry with tags cocaine, control, drug, freedom, Hip Hop, Oakland, poem, Poems, Poetry, politics, Rap, screening, testing on 01/29/2010 by ionnesCoked out,
bleed clean,
hit the bottle, test clean.
Down by the docks I mean.
They sent me under the overpass.
Second shack on your left.
Just watch your ass in the parking lot.
Romantic Interlude #9
Posted in Poetry with tags bbq, blue eyes, celeb, east coast, hell, high heels, Hip Hop, hollywood, Love, music, Oakland, poem, Poems, Poetry, politics, Rap, romance, USA, west coast, women on 01/27/2010 by ionnesTame the wild beast
Unleashed from the east
Coast boasting numbers
Fateful eternal slumbers
Grateful pacific shore
Hollywood glamor whore
A plate full of poison
They let their boys in
Hoisin BBQ smell
As we all dine in hell
They sell out our lives
Soon will be raping our wives
Formed hives take some time
Mending slowly is no crime
So sublime is this bliss
All forgotten with a kiss
Choir Music
Posted in Poetry with tags bush, cheney, control, culture, Death, dick, freedom, Hip Hop, homeless, judgement, Love, music, Oakland, obama, philosophy, poem, Poems, Poetry, police, politics, racism, Rap, romance, slavery, stalin, USA on 01/24/2010 by ionnesBlack on Black
Brown on Brown
White on White
We all fall down
expressions in said sessions
overstated impressions
about our people’s regressions
into secessionist chimes
Polluting our history and changing the times
Writing in names to cover up crimes
Somebody gotta start now droppin’ them dimes
Miming Joe Stalin shows how far we’ve fallen
Stomachs are full now a-nature’s calling
Overhauling is needed to dump this noxious waste
Before the rot gets so foul life loses it’s taste
Artery Bleeding
Posted in Poetry with tags culture, freedom, Hip Hop, katrina, mississippi, murder, Poems, Poetry, politics, racism, Rap, slavery, south, USA on 01/22/2010 by ionnesUnite around the flame that’s drowned
When Katrina flew New Orleans bound
Long legged beautiful Mississippi mouth
Imported goods came up from the south
On riverboats people could steam
Just Native’s names left like a dream
Lyrical mud plays a silt jazz plan
What happened to rebuilding it man?
Diagnosis Murder
Posted in Poetry with tags care, crime, culture, Death, freedom, health, healthcare, highland, highland hospital, Hip Hop, law enforcement, medical, murder, music, Oakland, philosophy, poem, Poetry, politics, Rap on 01/21/2010 by ionnesVapid nurse’s curses flying up and down the hall
Standing room folk, choked pressed against a wall
Blood pressure check, wrecked physical appearance
Vomit stained, crazy train, waiting for doctor’s clearance
First hour towered, flowered in excruciating pain
Babies crying, people dieing weighted on a cane
On the clock ring, ding there goes another name
Ask a shady lady from which desk it came
Bitch attitude, rude comments leave her mouth
Another pale female calls me from the south
Some poor block the door, finally make it inside
With the hope, like a dope, health care they provide
Interview sick quick I thought relief was mine
But instead just dread waiting in a longer line
Dehydrated, exacerbated finally a single I.V. prick
Decapitated, dilapidated hope to anyone that’s sick
Police chat, fat and lazy next to a man they shot
Pulled gun and run when they stopped him for some pot
Doctors nice, came in twice, a hard working type of guy
There is no bread, patients dead I just have to wonder why
Most rich people think this shit is a just a joke
I ain’t fucking laughing cause it’s life when you’re broke
Athens Shuffle
Posted in Poetry with tags christ, control, crime, culture, freedom, Hip Hop, homeless, judgement, law enforcement, muay thai, philosophy, Poems, Poetry, police, posiedon, Rap, vagrant, wine on 02/05/2009 by ionnes
Retired to the back
Motion still as a plaque
Patches mend together
Brain aware of weather
Lines around his eyes
His constant disguise
Speckled cheeks run brown
Just not a proper noun
Against all but belief
He sought shelter relief
Blood of a Christ
Still a poltergeist
In banished minds
Superstitious kinds
Loving himself first
Unquenched thirst
By club and fist
You get the gist
Free to move around
All the trash He’s found
Combing down the beach
Next meal at the reach
Any Popov holiday
Top off everyday
For the nights cold
Tents are not sold
Muddy cheeks get wet
On the steps he set
Trying to figure god
Illegal hardware mod
Breaking images divine
But only a sip of wine
Out of the shelter
Lady he felt her
Got snap kicked dick
Muay Thai is sick
Police cuffed vagrant
Fragrance is flagrant
prayed Poseidon of the sea
Truth doesn’t set him free
Holy Speared it
Posted in Poetry with tags basketball, culture, Hip Hop, philosophy, Poems, Poetry, Rap, USA on 02/02/2009 by ionnes
Spiritus Sanctum
off the bankboard I banked ‘em
Wave to the crowd
Thanked ‘em
Proudly auditory
Not for the glory I sank ‘em
Free throws bro gimme points
Don’t need ‘em
Cut with greed and proceed
to make the net bleed
Left hand lead reverse
Could it get any worse
Heard you curse when I poked
Which provoked alley oops
Bombing troops from outside
Way out wide
Corner three on the way I provide
Cutting so set your feet and don’t slide
Blocking foul then on the floor you glide
Fauxlice
Posted in Poetry with tags control, culture, freedom, Hip Hop, iraq, law enforcement, Poems, Poetry, police, politics, racism, Rap, terrorism, USA, war on 02/02/2009 by ionnes
Rapid fire liars telling us the economies dire
While wall street homeboys have cash to wire
Fall further into debt to wage wars of terror
Crept into hills yellow and dusty an error
Not aware of a spare
attack plan gas spurned
Dare to take whats not earned
inside ideals so blind
Way behind racial lines
it’s embedded in our minds
FUCK finding retreaded ways of peace
behead the military POLICE
Orientation [For my A-Unit]
Posted in Poetry on 01/29/2009 by ionnes
Famine looking feminine idol dolls
Make any person need to take some midols
Headaches pound through hallowed halls
To sell some clothes you buy at malls
To self esteem being crushed like the American dream
Fabric of image busted up right out at the seam
Not tryin’ to hate on a man’s CREAM scheme
Not lyin’ to the beautiful until their view is full
Of dull things fools need to look cool
Woolen sheep pulled along at a creep
Steep cost comes in at all your money honey
So you can imitate a playboy bunny
But if sunny days exist without light
Soon we’ll begin to know our left from right

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