Free Style challenge

[destinie21]

For anyone who's interested in spoken word. (ME)
I'm throwing out a freestyle challange. The point is for everyone to post on the same topic though the topic is up for interpretation and the style can be whatever you choose. Every now and again the topic will be changed. Since I started it I'll go first I guess.

The topic is revolution.

They call me the wordsmith
and when I spit it's prolific
to be more specific
I'm three steps beyond revolution
and evolution
is racing to catch up with me.


fear me because I'm ferocious
yeah you spit kind of ugly
but I spit atrocious
you spit a little nasty
but I spit the grossest.

this is off the top of my head so I'll probably edit it later.

 

[Angeline]

Winston O Boogie lives!
Believe and listen to the song
and count me out (in)
anything but love is wrong
the only revolution you can fight
and ever hope to win
is raging inside you

and if you do, you know
it's gonna be alright.

 

[perks]

For most it's political
but that's so typical
he said
she said
that's right, it's sexual

Intensity burning out from your core
making you her whore
twists and turns
body burns
with friction
not fiction
but multiple


revolutions.

 

[champagne1982]

Revolution, there's thousands per minute I'm told.
If I may be so bold,
To suggest,
Revolution, as a solution,
May not be the best.

Capitulation, there must be thousands of those,
Yet I do suppose.
If that's the truth,
Capitulation, is an indication,
Of the spontenaity of youth.

 

[Maria2394]

revolutions
round and round
all the wheels go
the bus, the universe
spinning my own
watching you spin yours

revolution is easily explained
as circular motion
which carries you away
from some thing and
returns you
to that very thing
when ridden long enough

you're right back
where you started
ready for a revolution
revolution
a diluted solution
mostly actions
with no purpose
and swords drawn for show

revolution
round and round
we go

 

[The_Fool]

A whiskey glass
Makes revolutions in my hand.
A solitary ice cube
Slides on a cushion
Of melted water
With just a hint
Of scotch.
I count the revolutions,
Waiting on the ice to melt.
On a dark lonely night.
I count the revolutions,
So I stay away from thinking
Stay away from remembering.
My eyes glued to the cube,
Counting revolutions,
Pretending to forget
The vision of our empty house.
My empty house,
Now.
I’ve lost my count.

 

[WickedEve]

revolution in my kitchen


pots and pans
out of my hands
gather in dusty nooks

cookie sheets
burnt and battered
file in against the baseboard

casserole dishes
tip their lids to reveal
crusty layers of secrets

pizza pans roll by
unevenly on dented rims
their mission unknown

a hush among the cutlery
butter knives raised in salute
as the heavy iron skillet lands

now the revolution begins

 

[denis hale]

Free Style Challenge

I got off on this. Thanks Des awesome idea.


PLEASE STAND IN THE BUSH..IN THE BUSH...THE BUSH (c) 03 DHale

They sit at the funky-ass
horseshoe-shaped bar
smelling of stale vomit
and urinal cakes

staring at the satellite-feed
big screen set to Court TV
with entire Social Security
checks riding

on the outcome of the trial
at which a senator's son is accused
of staving in the skull of a Samoan
transsexual with
the business end
of an Erector Set...

There should be absolutely
no need
to convince you now

just how we've gone plum
ass over elbow
through the looking glass

when they replace the jerkoff rags
in the john with New Republics
and Mad Magazines
stacked to the ceiling

someone has composed an opera
out of Jerry Springer outtakes

and at the commercial break

we see

the monkey smirk of Peter Frampton
with a GQ buzzcut at a podium
selling fucking copiers

like throwing target practice guitar picks
at Stepford Wives with sloppy asses
and slap-happy tits...

Yes friends
and countrymen now is the time
to raise your rock show
Bic lighters

big time
aiming for the Molotov Rorshach Blots
spreading like menstrual stains
on the purple-draped walls

torch this place straight up
from the hallowed halls
to stanky shitter stalls
busted up into kindling mounds

burn
the motherfucker
down

let God sort it out

and start all over again.

 

[Icingsugar]

So now,
at last
when everything had faded into silence,
I lift my head and speak my sentence out.
So now,
at least
I didn't contribute to all this violence,
I waited until there was no need to shout.

A glass,
a bite,
a cigarette is bringing back my vision,
and oxygen is floating through my head.
So now,
today,
I will reach out and kill my television,
the world they made to render me for dead.

I could have let the candle blow out,
I could have let you handle this.
But anyway,
I want to say
I'm sorry.
Hear this...

Come on,
cut out,
I don't want to be a revolution,
I just want to stand on my own feet.
So now,
today,
in my own time I'll find my own solution,
to get up, to escape this busy street.

So when,
at last,
when time has come to lead instead of follow,
tell me, do you have the words to say?
Stand up,
speak out.
If you're the one to fill my will so hollow,

start a
revolution
here,
today.

 

[perks]

How do I feel?
Like a fucking horse
that's just run the derby
flanks lathered
gasping for air
flared nostrils
and some jockey
in brightly striped sateen
whipping my hide
urging me to my best
according to her
She who is
all balance
physically anyway
a fly could distract her
and here I am
puddy in her hands
pulling, straining
against her reigns
against this bit in my mouth
against myself
working towards that goal
that prize
that life
of difference
I press on
one
two
three
core tightened
breathing
exhale
fuck this dominatrix
my muscles scream out
I am shaking
"only one more"
is her mantra
death mantra
as my flanks quiver
strain
no pain
I scream
internally
as I give way
as I birth
my new self

 

[eagleyez]

revolution
evolution
elocution
no substitution
institution

we'd all love to see the plan.

you better free your mind instead.

 

[BooMerengue]

a volute is a spiral
NOT a circle
a volution
is a rolling motion
roll a spiral
its kinda pretty
a revolution
is a drastic
far reaching
change in ways of
thinking
behaving
hmmm
thats kinda pretty, too
roll a revolution
all of a sudden its not pretty
but its just a word

 

[Guest]

Revolution

We wanted revolution.
We got anarchy.
We wanted to turn things around.
We got screwed.

 

[ExistentialLuv]

Thanx for this challenge

Thank you for this challenge. Made my imagination and poetry go in a different direction than usaul.


Kneeling on a rustic algid tombstone
Benumbing my spirt completly through
Corpes bite into the corroded ground
Worms voraciously feast upon ossein
Feeding the earth freshly desintegrated bones
Spirits suspended in time hover above
My tears stain the enshrined sacred ground
Organisms greedily devour the salty droplets
Lifes revolution starts over
Never ending Circle

 

[Nick Urfe]

The Revolution Was Televised

I like all these poems. Especially Perks' two that twist my mind around politics and sex. More of that should be forced on men, perhaps. Lots of interesting plays on "revolution," spinning etc.
Mine's a good argument for not opening a poet up to politics. (saying "freestyle" puts the poet on a mike, stage, somewhere in a basement cafe--in my opinion)

Hey!
Hey stop there,
You without a care?
Eighteen!
Where you been?
It isn't hard
To find your card
When Uncle Sam
Has a plan.

We'll hunt the Taliban,
Give free speech to the
Klu Klux Klan,
Send you to the desert to get a tan.
Heavy uniforms without a fan.
No...
No matter where you are
There's Abrams tanks rolling into Mohammed's bazaar.

In a room, not far,
Your father's gray hairs
Parted neatly in pairs,
Wears a uniform and stares
At words on pages--
The very latest.

Puts his finger in the air
And feels wind blowing
Bombs falling.
Wrong.
Same old song,
Some were here, now they're gone.

So, hey,
Stop a minute.
There.
Need some boots?
... we'll find you a pair.

 

[Linbido]

Great thread, and a good theme for potry.

Some real gems so far. Eve's kitchen tale, denis' straight on rant and Nick's transcribed spoken word are my favs so far.

Here is my contibution.
Revolt with caution, everyone.
-------------------------------------------

So,
how does it feel
with your trigger-finger aching
spine shaking
from the impact of
nine millimeters
leaving barrel
at your will?

You're the man now
it's your world
your revolution
your response.

So how does it feel
now that you have
taken what is yours
and what was theirs?

You turned the table,
yes you did,
served them well
and gave what they
had coming.

So...
How does it feel?

The blood on their hands
became blood on yours,
their whip, your pain
became will to hurt.

Now you strike,
kick the beaten,
now you hurt
now you shoot,
spit, whip,
revenge,
retaliate...

...and the blood
of the oppressor
flows as red
as the tears
of the oppressed.

So tell me,

how does it feel
to destroy one demon,

and become another?


-Lin

 

[destinie21]

It's been days or weeks or something so here we go with a new theme

antipathy


We’re on the cycle of antipathy
and the constellation is arms
but we be sitting on corners
sipping corrupted quarter waters doing jumping jacks
jumping at the first chance to jump and dance and shout shake
and sho nuff show off our pittance
pitted against preparation

concentration
Reparation

The consolation is arms

Liberty
That must be that statue down by those buildings where they be makin that dough

The pursuit of happiness

The pursuit

boy look at that ni*ga run
and when he gets caught he can lie

like Plymouth rock
and Rushmore mountains


desperate moments

and what you call purple mountains majesty.
Purple mountain majesty sounds to me more like strange fruit
blood on the leaves and blood on the roots

we’re in the cycle of antipathy and the consolation is arms.


#############

here's another one sort of


I’d warned deaf ears
to confront their fears
and stand behind their beliefs
but my free speech was sent into the emptiness of the atmosphere
and now the very thing that most fear
is so near
and to close for comfort

To late, the fury of a land that expelled my words as myth
rages as the people realize that freedom no longer exists

Our coner stone is a parodox

And there's everything to lose

We're in the cycle of antipathy
And I am armed only with this pen
So I use my right to bear arms

I write what I know
and I only know what I think

aborted doctrines and slaughtered principles would run through my hands like bloody water
if I were to wash my hands of this.

Look into the tapestry that my words weave so fine.
My truth is so sun-like it casts no shadows

I wish I could go back and be who I was before it all begun
so that I could come back and fight back
retrace my steps
and make this a rerun

Oh no she's come undone
somebody grab the paper.

but still I'm
hooked on phonics

to escape

It's my languge for rape
As I trip and stumble
I'll eat my words
just to spit them again

Maybe your life is better
maybe your life is worse
every entrance that I make it's just your exit
In reverse

reverse
to rehearse
I know
It's so
adverse at first

but take note of what my words denote

 

[Nick Urfe]

caring about antipathy

You know, there is an awful lot to be said for someone who can work very hard at not caring at all.
There may be more to be said for someone who can successfully care about being disgusted with caring.
Ad infinitum nihilism.

The T's Last Stop

my book,
my boring book,
jolted with the orange line
as it rumbled through Ruggles,
bounced over Backbay and
bounded into Oak Grove.
I lost my place,
closed it,
read the quotation from
USA Today's rave reviewer,
and realized I was glad
MBTA maintenance was so bad.

-----------

this should be a link to
one of my poems

 

[denis hale]

Okaly Dokaly

KISS IT OFF (c) 2003 D Hale

Some crazy bitch
dumpster diving
behind the Circle K

comes up spitting black pearls
and pacifiers looking like Orphan Annie
festooned with angel hair pasta
and copper-colored clumps
of Kung Pao Chicken.

I walk on the easter egg shells
coated with cum and turpentine
looking the other way

stepping across the sidewalk cracks,

knowing with a grave certainty
all my lovers
wanted to be my mommy

but none of them had my back...

"What's that smell?" you ask

as you board the funky commuter plane
back slapping and ass licking rock stars
in the driving rain
anyway;

And Wherefore
this sound

like an epileptic telegraph stylus clacking
in the sweaty, chafing crack of ass,

something rattling
always

in the mad loins
like craps dice on tin roof
coming out snake eyes
every time...

Honor codes,
repression etiquette

and eavesdropping elves jacking off
hummingbird nectar in a petri dish...

When your skin starts to crawl
that's when they all want you to start
licking their boot heels

like a Kimodo dragon
going down
on a split tail of putrefaction.

Another nurse
scritches rubber soles on
the sticky linoleum

back and forth
right outside the door
and hisses:

"Are you okay honey?" Are you okay honey"... ... ...

Perfunctory applause in a hollow
auditorium they're crying

"More!! More!!" ... "Encore D'Accord!!"

and the next sound you hear
is your own heatbeat

five feet under a green,
brackish body of water

going apeshit
like a Singer sewing machine
stitching up your eardrums--

the light
way up there
at the surface

receding
and waving.

 

[Linbido]

I know I can do better than this, but it came waddling by, so I grabbed it. Here you are.

________

we live
we lust
we try

we kiss
we care
we fly

we fuck
we breed
we tie

we work
we drive
we buy

we bore
we fight
we cry

we slow
we age
we die

we burn
we rot
we dry

Why?