Part i
Oddyseus’ return is where I take over
Sea monsters beware I’m no less a soldier
Penelope, back home, bemoans for some closure
Her suitors, surprised, are Groening like Homer (Doh!)
But life ain’t a drawing, we age in four seasons
Still some things never change just like Bart and Lisa
Rigid lines garnish fake yellow toned “people”
Cartoon stars awaiting their sequels
Rigid lives mourn for religion’s great fears
Ancient wars warn of indifferent sneers
An eye for and eye, if your eye don’t see clear
They’ll go for your mind through a path in your ear
I ain’t lil’ Wayne, I ain’t tatted with tears
But I was tattered and torn through my tumultuous years
Tha frozen lake at tha end of tha tunnel seemed near
Battered, and worn out by those I held dear
But who am I kiddin? I was never imprisoned
I’ve been in tha burbs with a bong in my kitchen
Preparing these verbs with a side of ambition
I ain’t locked in cell block but I’m still heavy liftin’
Confined to my lab dissecting and splitting
Mathematic mitosis; long cell division
Seeking my voice, set and poised for my mission,
Bound to escape through these bars that I’m spittin’
But it’s a labor of love I don’t loathe tha arithmetic
Breaking down walls is constructive; artistic
Freeman at ease, like Shawshenk Redemption
Bask in Robbin’s success he deserves tha attention
Thirty-1 flavors in three-D dimensions
Peep how I swerve through soft-served connections
Please eat tha dessert I only serve good intention
But perception of purpose can blur pure incentive
You may see me so far ahead of tha game that I may seem prophetic
So I cannot blame future shame on my present perspective
Part ii
I’ve written for love now I aim for a pension to set up family and friends
Who in tha future will mention my name, tha same way that I said it
When I told a girl I won’t let her forget it;
Losing tha wait, I sold tha world off my shoulders, I
credit
card
companies
For bringing me closer
to tha little luxuries
through consumer devotion -
I credit film producers for tha big-time exposure
I credit jaw dropping dimes who helped me get over
Foolish behavior through foolish behavior
Like dropping a quarter to pick up two dimes
Maybe I ain’t worth a dime tha way I’m behavin’
Baby, is it a crime
to sell-out?
Tha stadium
don’t mind if it’s not always magic I’m making
and
In wake of tha natural disaster
that was my life before my earth-quaked:
I keep faith I will
persevere after tha
heat waves and flash-floods of
Tha Human Catastrophe -
Part iii
Bent color spectrum sends signal tha storms have all cleared;
In search of tha gold, how will I know if it’s near?
It likely will blind me and cause me to steer
Toward tha sounds I should rather not hear,
Like tha song of tha sirens or pound of a beer,
At bars where they know me and I Norm out like Cheers -
Can’t worry bout objects that seem close in my mirrors
As I drive like a savage through these Wonder Years;
No more watching three hours of re-runs and getting real high -
Instead I
Run three miles and get a real high
I don’t watch tha “news”
Did they get you to cry?
They pile on sad toppings and relish in crime
Advertising agencies commercialize lies and depend on tha foolish consumer to buy tha message they’ve branded as truth, but it’s tragic how parents rely
on cable-box-sitters and their babies’ retinas damaged by tha stage lights and fake smiles on tha plastic news casters -
For thee, I break free of tha mold I was cast in
To alert all tha rest I am my ship’s captain
- MIC THA POET
