Day 7, poetry.

I have no time today; I'm dressed sharp for a party. I have swing on the stereo, and a jacket on, and it's a good night.

However, I decided I might as well share a couple of bits I've written.

First, a serious one. I call it "Blind Man's Poker."

I’m playing blind man’s poker
And in this land of the blind
The one eyed dealer is a joker

I wish I could see,
But fate is a cruel mistress
And she keeps her eye out for cheats

I’m dealt two aces but I don’t know it
I’m down on the ground
And I’m in touch with a poet

To write my obituary.

There is a cruel wind
Blowing through this gambler’s town
And you can never win.

It’s a losing game
And you know it
But you still come here to play

Full house comes tumbling down
Two pair split down the middle
Ace is low and 4 is high
I thinking I’m just a little…
Craaaazy.

I’m dealt two aces but I don’t know it
I’m down on the ground
And I’m in touch with a poet

To write my obituary.


And a less serious one...

Rap Labrador

Step back make way for the rap Labrador
He’s got the beats so low that they’re scraping the floor, but
Don’t be confused by this crazy mutt
Just turn-t-turn-turn the volume up.

His name is Canis lupus familiaris,
5 will get me 10 that you can’t spell this
He’s related to the wolf but he’s calmer than a wolf
Frustrate or anger him and your face he’ll engulf
With his jaws, they’re mightier than yours
Cause he don’t know human laws, he’ll harm you with his paws.
He don’t fear time because he can’t commit crime
He’s a dog, canine, not homo sapie…ine.

He’s a dog 1 G not Snoop Dogg double G
He spells better see, than any gangster from the east or
West coast of the USA, or any kid winning a spelling bee.
But he don’t rhyme for free, not even for me
Gotta pay dollars not doggy treats,
He’ll cost a lot, from capital letter to full stop.
If you don’t understand we’ll take it back to the top.

Step back make way for the rap Labrador
He’s got the beats so low that they’re scraping the floor, but
Don’t be confused by this crazy mutt
Just turn-t-turn-turn the volume up.

He’s got interest from the CIA, RSPCA and the YMCA
They all want him for his rap abilities.
He’s the rap Labrador he’ll have you coming back for more
Begging for mercy ‘cause he’s too hardcore.
He’s been shot nine times for his preposterous rhymes
But he doesn’t tell you all the time he doesn’t need that in his lines
He’s gangster, gunshot or not, more true than hip hop.
And you know he’ll never stop, he bought immortal from the shop
That sells badly grammarised crazy abilities and magic potions…for cheap.

It’s important to clarify what I mean by animal
I mean he’s so dangerous like…Hannibal
Lecter in the house, not timid like a mouse
He’s Californian not Scouse, stealin’ your spouse.
He’s a love cheat love rat but more like a bitch
Lovin’ Will Smith from Switch to Hitch,
Rescuin’ these rhymes from the bottom of the ditch
He’s an old dog that keeps learning new tricks.
Gotta pause for breath before we carry on
Then we can take up to 88 in our DeLorean


Step back make way for the rap Labrador
He’s got the beats so low that they’re scraping the floor, but
Don’t be confused by this crazy mutt
Just turn-t-turn-turn the volume up.

Don’t ask him, “Who let the dogs out?”
It’s not a topic he’s willing to talk about.
Chien or pooch or hound or whatever
He’ll be rhyming hardcore forever.
Back to the subject, of immortality
You can try to find a Labrador fatality
You’ll search a long time but you’ll never find it
Unless you bring in the crazy Poodle bandit.
She’s a crazy bitch with rhymes that trip
Off the tongue like insults or grooming tips.
Dogged determination, for that she’s renowned
Straight out of Brooklyn’s toughest pound
She started a crew in one nine eight two
Simply because she had nothing better to do
Now she’s takin’ on the Rap Labrador
In a game I’d like to call “rap sport.”

Get out of her way she’s the Poodle Bandit
You wanted an answer now you’ve found it
Someone to take on the rap Labrador
In the game I like to call “rap sport.”