Sunday, February 28, 2010

My Magic Train

This big train stays on a track with cracks and divots,
And you can't dig it, 'cause yo shovel too short.

I suppose I'll let you on this train,
You hooked, I'm like life support.

Amazingly, I'm still amazing ME,
In awe of all the things that I've yet to be...

LIKE...

Amazing...We've defined amazing to be, the things we see on TV...

LIKE...

Round butts, and perfect figures, slick talkers and quick jiggers,
Who believe in P.C. by day, but at night call their own people, "niggers".

And we figure these figures in the spotlight know what it's all about, right?

So, I ride on a train...It's perfect, it's exquisite, and everybody wanna ride in it...On it, I think they want it...

The experience... My ride rides nice, even on thin ice,
and I'm too cool to fall below, and too cold to get heated so...

SO, amazing, me, I pump up my own head because the only one to make me think other wise, is none other than me.

My train rides nice, now fly train...Fly above the aboves and beyonds into a time eons away from a life where the peons are told when and how to play.

My train's got big purple wings, elegant things when they spread, I hear gasps from nay-sayers and haters abound, but they just mad cause their trains stay on the ground.

Look at me now...

A million miles high, but you can still see me, secretly my biggest critics really wanna be me...

Beam me up like Spock, stars don't walk they trek.

I want to erase your mind and replace your thoughts with something you'll never forget or regret.

It's progress, as my train sets the standard for those to come.
I implore you to dance to the beat of your own drum,
Or suffer from doldrums, dull huh?

I felt like Greene was a good color on me, so Green birthed some breach baby beats,
Delivered differently, but always, ALWAYS landing on our feet.

A legion of talent in me, a beacon, a challenge, and ME...a light, pure balance and HE,

A MIC, true talent, now breathe...

Exhale the negative, inhale the haters,
now upchuck their bones, and save them for later.

Cause you gone need a skull to weigh down the papers you stack,
When you live in the moment, and never look back.

All over the place, my mind goes all over the place, Hell, I'm all over the place.

I place myself in a category of Otherlings, something from another being,
One of Jack's lost magic beans.

Impressively, and aggressive, he, is nothing like the gyrating, generations, generating hits, auto-tune masturbating. Jacking the flavor off real musicians, and coming quick.

Careers end, post drip, limp, now call it quits.

Misfits, writers, biters, bums, fighters, nuns, this rhyme is for the inner tiger in you. You might mess up, fess up, but don't take your missteps in vain.
Grab your ticket, hop aboard...It's time to load up the train.


Jirod Greene (Copyright 2010)

1 comment:

  1. *Applauds* You are a wonderful poet! This was real man.

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