Social Media, Social Media, every one and all
Tell me how to get more followers on my wall
I want everyone to like me with every post and tweet
I want them to worship me though we’ll never really meet

Tell me which pic to pick or which way I should pose
And with every caption, what should I compose?
I wish to be the most cool and popular of the land
I’d love to have a life that’s rich, extravagant and grand

Should I post photos of my feet or my hairy derriere?
Will they fall for my arms, my chest, my lips, my stare?
Will they fantasize whenever they look into my eyes?
Tell me how do I get my numbers up, how do I advertise?

But social media answers with the more popular profiles
With good looking people having the brighter smiles
The beautiful, the stunning seem to be live a life so chic
Now my ego feels like memes of broken dreams, fragile and weak
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My poetry is like a fine mist
   The verses caress like a tender kiss
But when I drop ink with a twist of my wrist
    I spit mad bars because I get ******

Here’s the gist of it
   I slip the quip in there
It’s whatever comes up to the surface whenever the spirit moves me
If there’s a lisp in it
   It’s my speech impediment
I breathe fire because aside from the ire writing also behooves me

My verses are a mix of history and mystery
    A puzzle of lost pieces with imagery
Whatever sounds clever I pull the lever and let the words flow
My thoughts tend to get stuck at the dam
    If there be floods I’ll be ******
I’m playful yet a little unstable but I’m careful not to let it show

And so if I had to sum up my poetry
   I’d say it’s a reflection of me
A twister of emotions filtered, tuned, groomed and rhymed
I’m not always at my best
    But I get it off my chest
So long as the words are ready, steady, primed and perfectly timed

The rider rides
With rage and passion in his heart
Over golden hills and across the plains
Across the great breath of land
Through realms and domains
Ready
     To capture the sun

His untamed spirit and will
Has no time for menial things
There is a flame to catch and a force wield
As he gallops into the distance
Willing to conquer the day
Ready
     To seize the sun

He chases the fire in the sky
Without wings or propellors he flies
Hi horse racing against time
Leaving a plume of smoke and dust behind
The rider goes after the dream
Ready
     To catch the sun

With rope tight in his hand
There is a sound of glorious fury
And victorious determination from the whip
The rider and his horse make the run
To obtain the impossible
Eager
     …to lasso the sun

Are you ready?

“Pay the toll” the old bald troll told me,
“Or else suffer the consequences if you don’t”,
So lo and behold I had gold to pay his fee,
But then I asked “what happens if I won’t?”

So the old troll strolled back and forth hotly,
His nostrils flared like he was about to strike,
“You’re a bold soul for talking to me like this…
Roll on out of here or I’ll put you on a spike”.

“No I won’t go” I said “my home is this way,
I’m not paying a toll so stop harassing me”
The troll stood tall with all his meanness,
But I stood my ground scorching and angry.

“Then I’ll tear you to pieces and eat you,
I’ll take the other half home for my fridge,
I’ll feed myself for days with your remains,
But you’re not going to cross my bridge”.

“This isn’t your bridge you old mold” I said,
“The villagers built this justly and rightly,
But if you’re going lay claim to this crossing,
Then put up your dukes and fight me!”

“You don’t know the strength of a troll” he yelled,
“I don’t give a ****” I answered screaming madly,
“Then you’ll suffer a horrible painful death” he said,
But I replied “Not before I kick your *** so gladly”.

Then I remembered all the *** I drunk,
I’m a little guy and he’s as big as a tree trunk,
And what was in the tobacco pipe I smoked?
I felt invincible but look what I provoked.

Just then my special stash fell out of my back pocket,
He stopped dead cold in his tracks trying to comprehend,
We looked at each other and without a word being said...
The troll and I smoked a whole bowl and became friends.

The End.

Snitches, snitches get stitches  
They’ll say whatever it takes to get out of deep ditches  
They’ll talk about whoever they can and rat out  
It’s a blame game for them when they're trying to chase clout  
  
Snitches will sing like a canary up and down the scale  
They will tell the tale like their loyalty is up for sale  
They have no allegiance when it comes to their squad  
Blabbing on just about everyone and swear on God  
  
Snitches will leak their business without hesitation  
Then they’ll cover their own ***** to avoid incarceration  
But to the criminal element they'll be known as traitors  
Even if they participated, they’ll point out perpetrators  
  
Snitches run their mouths like it’s a hearty party cheer  
It’s as if squealing feels so appealing for everyone to hear  
They will play **** in the streets and try to act hard  
But might get what’s coming to them if they’re out in the yard  
  
Snitches, snitches get stitches when they talk too much  
Jumping in getting in and out of trouble like it’s double Dutch  
They can’t keep a secret when it comes to their crimes  
Spilling the beans in court because they’re afraid to do time

To the great poem I may one day compose  
I know you’re lingering around somewhere close  
You won’t reveal yourself until the time is right  
So I keep you in mind expecting your light  
  
And once your inspiration comes to my heart  
I will craft you like the most reverent piece of art  
Weaving words and expressions that say it all  
When a lifetime of memories begs the call  
  
But if the words don’t come to me just like I said…  
I will recite them in free verse from my deathbed instead

They say she descended after one summer storm
Like a pretty reverie arched right out of the blue
With eyes so expressive as if they whispered secrets
That men were entranced by that delightful hue

Some say she emerged from the sea late after dusk
A balance of dark and light that nature surely dyes
Designed and crafted by the hand of a divine being
Because the ocean depths were captured in her eyes

Others will tell you she rose from a field of flowers
As if the flora had tinted her windows to the soul
Bearing a delicate semblance of love and mystery
Like art captivating hearts so beautiful and bold

But…

It was I who witnessed her sliding down a rainbow
On a spectrum of imagination where fantasies go
In a stream somewhere between violet and blue
In a winged surreal dream of a girl named Indigo