deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wally Behind Bars
Writing live from an unknown location (and no not a prison),
Risen out of this prism ready to spill some euphemisms,
Wally is behind bars lit with cigars firing off shooting stars,
So you better keep up and listen to the colloquialisms.
Sit back, have a drink of this ink I think you’ll read and maybe like,
Like an open mic night it might just feel right to get up and fight,
But like an empathic telepathic I’ll make a prediction,
You’re going to leisurely follow me then swallow all my diction.
I know I don’t have to rhyme every time I write a simple line,
But my mind finds fine field mines of explosive vocabularies,
Hell I still stutter when I utter the words recalling my prime,
Thumbing through those thesauruses and thick dictionaries.
So lean over and lend me your ear, I fear it may go too fast,
I’ll blast off with a bang, with the band, witness and please take the stand,
Can’t hang with the slang? I got news for you, this noose will be too tight,
You may lose and bruise yourself then probably need a helping hand.
Want to get your rocks off? This grammar pops when my hammer drops,
Posting potent pondering poems and pouring portent pulsing prose,
It’ll knock your socks off, the rhythm’s hypnotic maybe even erotic,
Titillating and calculating but it’s the way I compose.
I grit it and fit it, I’ll stomp through a comp then admit it,
But in the E.R. I’ll still spar, ill with it till I spit it,
The heat on this beat might catch fire I may just lit it,
This bitty ditty is like a quickie when I hit it and quit it.
Risen out of this prism ready to spill some euphemisms,
Wally is behind bars lit with cigars firing off shooting stars,
So you better keep up and listen to the colloquialisms.
Sit back, have a drink of this ink I think you’ll read and maybe like,
Like an open mic night it might just feel right to get up and fight,
But like an empathic telepathic I’ll make a prediction,
You’re going to leisurely follow me then swallow all my diction.
I know I don’t have to rhyme every time I write a simple line,
But my mind finds fine field mines of explosive vocabularies,
Hell I still stutter when I utter the words recalling my prime,
Thumbing through those thesauruses and thick dictionaries.
So lean over and lend me your ear, I fear it may go too fast,
I’ll blast off with a bang, with the band, witness and please take the stand,
Can’t hang with the slang? I got news for you, this noose will be too tight,
You may lose and bruise yourself then probably need a helping hand.
Want to get your rocks off? This grammar pops when my hammer drops,
Posting potent pondering poems and pouring portent pulsing prose,
It’ll knock your socks off, the rhythm’s hypnotic maybe even erotic,
Titillating and calculating but it’s the way I compose.
I grit it and fit it, I’ll stomp through a comp then admit it,
But in the E.R. I’ll still spar, ill with it till I spit it,
The heat on this beat might catch fire I may just lit it,
This bitty ditty is like a quickie when I hit it and quit it.
Published 7th Sep 2019
Author's Note
Narcissistic-ally Speaking...
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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7th Sep 2019 10:19pm
LOLOL!
But like an empathic telepathic I’ll make a prediction,
You’re going to leisurely follow me then swallow all my diction.
Narcissim epitomized perfectly! Best of luck in the comp!
But like an empathic telepathic I’ll make a prediction,
You’re going to leisurely follow me then swallow all my diction.
Narcissim epitomized perfectly! Best of luck in the comp!
8th Sep 2019 7:59pm
Glad you stopped by. It was either flamboyant clairvoyant or empathic telepathic, but I'm far from flamboyant, so I went with the latter.
