Seventeen Years

seventeen years plus of incomplete poems
the legacy of my halfwit journal.
some raps in rhythms unrecognizable.
confessions, impressions I’d rather deny.

life's a complaint of itinerate storms
downpouring madness and leaving me soaking.
giving me weight so I feel myself walking
dripping by conscience I’d rather be dry.

Inward summations delivered to no one
Or no one to puncture my aura for fear
I grimace and stomach and savor my bile
And smile like Charlie himself were still here.

Passersby pass not lingering to mass up
Behind my stentorian fury and rap
never to face me and listen i scream out
taunting with tearjerks surrounded by crap

Crap is my crapulous fabulous fawning
 fearing and fraying my foundling estate
 wearing a black magic mojo since dawning
 awaiting a journey from hoodrat to state

 prison, my prison my only creation
 down south of the order rejected at twenty
 in five thousand square feet of modern plantation
 i stare at my largesse, resenting my plenty

these are the walls that anomie authored
these are the halls that venom financed
i am the minotaur in my own mansion
realizing finally that i could have danced

but product came proven in markets that swelled
on airwaves of hiphop and vinyl of clubs
on dark dj mixtapes on paintcans and bells
my beats and my lyrics brought me double dubs

i rolled like a gangsta from ganking producers
i slid like a serpent from sirens to whores
i mocked my pretenders as if i were original
i prayed every morning to sell out the stores

seventeen dollars of respect was all
i aggregated from millions sayin' yes y'all
seventeen years i remember the tears i spent dreaming
to get the girls screaming my name
seventeen days ago my son died
incarnate the fiction i made into fame 
and seventeen million are bored with the story
all whorey and gorey i sold to the masses
seventeen hours i stood in the bedside
and saw myself finally through blood splattered glasses

Comments

[freelance writers]

Crap is my crapulous fabulous fawning
fearing and fraying my foundling estate
wearing a black magic mojo since dawning
awaiting a journey from hoodrat to state
great moment