Pick ‘n Mix Poetry

 
Who’s that on the mic?  
Ooh! It’s Mike the Owl!  
And if you ask what’s he like –  
I’d say with a growl that fowl is foul!  
 
He doesn’t speak much but on the microphone his beak can spit a sick beat,  
Many times he has shown his rhythm and rhymes are a hoot and an absolute treat,  
I’m talon you he’s like a beast released in the wild the way he feasts on emcees who’ve tried,  
Because with one fell swoop he’ll whoop some ass then you too will be left wide eyed.  
 
Mike the owl will look at you with a scowl and straight up ask if you want to rap battle,  
It’d be better now to throw in the towel or else you’ll howl when you begin to feel death’s rattle,  
He’s a wise old bird because his words will get the ladies in the audience roused up and stirred,  
And if you don’t hear him coming it’s because his stealth wings are meant to be unheard.  
 
He’s a savage killer, like a guerilla, but man he can drop a mad bass in your face like a bad villain,  
He’s a deadly hunter of the night who can assassinate one minute and the next be straight chillin’,  
His bars are fire, like two hundred seventy degrees of hot rounds sure to make you perspire,  
Mike is usually on the prowl but on the mic he’s an owl you’ll come to love and admire.

Ostrich Guitar Clarity
I got that Ostrich Guitar Clarity
When she standing there in front of me
And I’m playing her this song

Shark tornado gravity
Something about disparity
Seems fair to me
A rarity
I fucked her with a tooth

Ostrich got that long ass neck
Like a guitar and in retrospect
I should have picked a different animal
When I wrote this here poem

Cause I don’t know much about Ostriches
Or guitars for that matter either
But I wrote this poem special
For the lady who made this contest
Cause she looking fine
And she challenges me
Which I like

And suddenly, it came to me
Such clarity
I’m in love
With a special someone

Didn’t take much
Just a riddle of sorts
Make these words work
And you know I did just that
For the glory of love

I’ll Peter Cetera you all night long
If you’d just say you’ll be
My soft rock queen

This is for you
My Ostrich
My Guitar
My Clarity

Rain drops scattered on the roof
Remind me to close the western facing windows
After a sigh of relief I stop and admire all the green  
With a deep breath in, I see
A small rabbit in the yard.
The clever wildling stays unaware of me
Calm and eating grass under a strong and sprawling tree
I keep my eyes on the little one, and my ears on the rain
And soon a gentle melody is splashed across my brain
I am in my childhood bedroom being softly sung to sleep
My father strums his guitar to the rain's organic beat





©Tanzen Lilly July 2020

Once upon a time
in a land where sleep is banned  
I would sit upon the telling chair  
 entrance you with a tale  
pin back your ears whilst I regale  
In that Noslumberland  
don't rub your eyes  
my precious child  
there lived a bird that could not fly  
 gawky ostrich long and lanky  
and his name was Fancy  
for he was mute and could not squawk  
 he employed an umbrella  
so he could point  
and strut around with dignity  
to find the things he might require  
perhaps some training for a glider  
a deposit for a Turkish Carpet  
to levitate, on a rug that has no cockpit  
try to find some credibility  
soar aloft like ancestors could  
not just paddle in the sticky mud  
and walk around on bony stilts  
a puppet, hear the crowd  
all  laugh out loud  
for he was trapped within his cage  
he fumed and glowered with great outrage  
that man could fly and he was trapped  
so a cunning plan he hatched  
just to flutter like a partridge  
the lead shot blown from the cartridge  
now do not yawn and close your eyes  
for this tale holds a surprise  
self belief high as an eagles aerie  
just to escape that life so dreary  
tunnel underneath the wire netting  
escape that park of paradise  
a chance to find a brand new setting  
for next door was big top circus  
a brave idea to reach the heights  
under cover of the darkness  
the brolly underneath a wing  
the hook, the end for extra purchase  
escape the bonds of trapped despair  
brave intentions clarity  
to seek the need for parity  
 to become the feathered cannon  
climb in the bore with gay abandon  
and come the time to test the fuse  
be discharged into the blue  
once airborne spread ones wings and glide  
now the chance to soar  
terra firma always clamping thee  
and each deserve; a flight of fancy  
not tire in that pursuit of legacy  
just one more verse before you sleep  
float down on his open umbrella  
 say the day had been quite stellar