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poems

Poems

Best two-player combo

I’d pick Chris Paul and Lebron James

Win no less than 85 games

Postseason ain’t be no thang

Hittin’ Js, slingin’ the slang,

Shootin’ threes, smokin’ trees,

They’d be the original gang,

Any good look be bang bang

Hail the King, we will witness

Master glory, see what I see

In Mr. CP3. No look, dash and spin,

He stings worse than the kin,

Of any killer bee cuz he’s got

360 vision, courtside, front parking lot.

‘nuff money for the valet,

That green don’t matter,

Cuz one day these ballas be badder,

Choosin’ glory over gold,

Past the point of being sold,

It’s bold, it’s true.

We love ‘em cuz they played for the red, white and blue.

Dad

My dad’s name is slim

Temper he’s got on him, me too

Love him, course I do.

Mom

She went the distance

Ma’ poured more blood, sweat and tears

Than I will ever know

Steve

My blood is your blood

My home is your home, too bad

Only bro that I got

Haiku #4

Late night, watch The Wire

Witness shit in the real world

Is this how it is?

Haiku #5

I know words aren’t ‘nuff

If words can stand by themselves

Please grant me pardon.

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