that gravel road
yah them old dirty coats
i survived that haul
but i wont take notes
soldier stolen
i am the legal successor
forced under pressure
to be the objective
they need me to measure
defeat hard lessons
if it eases your stresses
then go ahead and mention
the priests intentions
but keep in attentive
the devil attended
taught us profession
eternal detention
broke down thats it
rev up the engine
that boarding house
the rev's in a mansion
his needs are advancing
the nuns are announcing
stand at attention
and he who surpasses
will cease on the lashes
lights out after but please read your chapters
i couldnt keep up
guess my hands proved that shit
he believes in his fashion
put welts on the bastard
fuck it cut off
itll grow back after
tell his fuckn mom
he won a week in a castle
couldnt see me last year
the asshole that cant go a day without an asshole
is that so?
mr bear well guess where you will go
directly from here to the criminal code
before? i was indian with his head down
grieving with my horse in the campout
praying for the future that i cant help
grandfather told me it was damn trout
guess his weapons are advanced now
the crystals form a braincloud
trained in a way how we'd never think it came out
now the voices tell me stay wild
its a crisis in a gay child
when a father refuses to pray how?
like how we didnt raise hell?
when his lil man has those feelings of a female?
i guess we live with these freestyles
of each child blending in from the beats piled
up wit my neestow in a car wit the heatdown
sirens calling me loud tellin me to reach out
sweetgrass burn the street down
sweetgrass burn the street down
one day itll leakout italy will speak out
china will seek help
tryna find world peace its a race that we need now
infiltrate these styles gather the feasts loud
cause everybody eats trial
please baby dont cry
theres a force of light coming here for life
these are the rules that write
keep this in mind and redivide
its a fluicide medicate those rights
decage those types of men they like
create that fight in a way so white
bet i make snowwhite moccasins so tight
just spun the world twice in a course of a night
20/20 visions better blast on sight
20/20 visions better blast on sight
20/20 visions better blast on sight
About the Creator
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More stories from Tony Curtis Bear and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Dream
The gravel road overcame me. The dust trailed the wagon heavy and strong. I stand at the side of the road overwhelmed with this image. The two black horses led the way to the burial ground. Reigns pulled back tightly by the white bones that grasped each leather restraint. The hood of the reaper fluctuated in the wind, glistening black with shades of silver. The wooden wheels were driven hard chipping away with each turn. In the box of the wagon the casket rattled. The color of the death crate was black. I have seen this road before. Only the place and time was different. The scenario that plays is before my time or sometime after I do not know. The dimension could only be a crossroad between life and death. The dreamstate I encountered at this time was vivid and strong. The grim reaper was screaming silently at the horses who in turn were violently running with all they could manage. There was a funeral taking place and death was not to be late. The red sky was covered in a grey shade. There was no sun. No heat or cold here they held no meaning. The cloud of dust was soon all I could see as the driver disappeared into the brighter part of the horizon. Staring through to that which I came. I wonder what meaning this has for me. The vignette grows stronger and black soon devours my vision.
By Tony Curtis Bear4 years ago in Poets
Smart phones, Humans and Aliens.
WARNING. I will be tapping into one of your favorite creative tensions: The absurdity of humans worshipping their glowing rectangles as if they were tiny oracles. There’s something deliciously poetic about that contradiction, and it lends itself beautifully to an instructive proviso.
By Novel Allen6 days ago in Poets
My Disappearance
Disappearance doesn’t happen all at once. It’s not a vanishing. It’s a thinning. A slow erosion of presence, a quiet fading at the edges of myself. The underwater mind pulls me down, the weight holds me there, and somewhere in the pressure and the dimness, I begin to lose definition.
By Elisa Wontorcik3 days ago in Poets
Miss Persephone's Manual to a Seemingly Ordinary Life
Miss Persephone was found at the dining table, her blue eyes swollen, her tears arriving and retreating like the tides of the ocean. Earlier that day, her family had visited her in the retirement home where she had lived for eight years. It was her eightieth birthday.
By Imola Tóth7 days ago in Fiction
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