#poems: Mantra

She’s a mantra
God haunter
Lays down with devils
Smelling of angel sweat
A perfect mistake waiting to happen
Dressed in denim and silk scarves
A widow maker
Smoking a clove
Rolls with a loaf worth of bros
Gettin that dough
Dances like a pinwheel in the wind
Fast and free
Loves in the same manner
Wet fire
that tastes sweet to tongue
And bitter to the wives of her victims
And I damn sure got it
Love for profit
Collecting souls in a shattered piggy bank
She bleeds passions venom
Makes since out of oxymorons
Sweet and sourpuss
have a bite one night
Don’t be afraid to try
Ride the Brahma bull
Shitting where her bed lays
Displaying that
Beds lay where mamas bullshit hit the fan
Afraid to try and bite
The bullet of reality
A sour puss so sweet
oxymoronic statements begin to make since
Venom becomes the cure
To shattered souls
Banking on her profitable love
And It damn sure makes no since
How sweet husbands can be
Just after the taste of a bitter tongue
dry ice
The manner in which he shows love
Dirty and loose
Like a disjointed wheel trapped in quicksand
Flashes the dough
Caked up, on occasion he’ll rise like yeast
Hit hydro
Make someones mom a widow
Dressed in khakis and teal v neck shirt
Happened to be waiting for the perfect mistake
Smelled angel’s sweat
Said forget these devils
Lay down with god
Sing my mantra

Categories: PoetryTags: , , , , , , , , ,


  1. I have such mixed feels and curiosity about this one. Enough to say so. ~ *clicks like anyway*

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