Branded
Buy, buy, buy
Baby, you need it all that’s not a lie
You have the right to smoke a pack
You’re prestige drives a Cadillac
Fragments from your yester-year
Gadgets make you smarter, yeah! !
Buy, buy, buy
Baby, you need it all that’s not a lie
You love to shop and it loves you
It makes sweet hearts say “I do”
You’re cool when you are with the fad
What’s new is good, what’s old is bad
Buy, buy, buy
Baby, you need it all that’s not a lie
A sexy you wears different clothes
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poem by P.R. Prosper
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The Manageable Nightmares of Everyday Life
At the first sight of sunlight
Mr. and Mrs. S-‘s alarm radio
Sings along with the morning crow
As he watches the daisies go
In the direction the breeze pleases to take them but
Mr. S- is just getting into his aluminum sided hut
After a night of working late with his sweet secretary
He met his mistress in front of the library
Slides silently in bed
And pretends to be asleep
An hour later Mrs. S- does the same
Without making a peep
Irene S- hates her name and believes that’s why
She’s unpopular with everyone
Both the girls and the guys
Tries to tell her parents but their answers are clichéd
Takes it as fact that she’s fat
So she decides to lose some weight
Disgraced with her waist her self esteem gets thinner
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poem by P.R. Prosper
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Break
I mean I’m sorry you failed yet another exam
But that wouldn’t happen if you weren’t a keg stand
Every night before you had your big tests man
Beer less cans you take,
Go pass out somewhere and give me a break!
I mean I’m sorry you keep getting your ass kicked
But keep running your mouth even with a fat lip
And somehow you keep getting your ass kicked
Next time yell out ‘Not in the face! ’
No that won’t work, just give me a break!
I mean I’m sorry you got fired from your 5th job
For showing up late dressed up like a slob
But it didn’t help you to have the register robbed
Try and crack the unemployment safe
Make your getaway and just give me a break!
I mean I’m sorry your kids think that you’re dirt
Because you’re out all night chasing tight skirts
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poem by P.R. Prosper
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White Collar
You shouldn’t do the crime if you can’t do the time
Unless you’re in a light that’s a bright green lime
Then the more that it shines
The more the law is left behind
And Justice raises the blinds
And looks more to your side
Lawyers slick and you slide
While you lie and deny
How you’re a victim in this mess
An innocent standing by
Look concerned maybe cry
And avoid a felony
Spend four months maybe five
Without a single luxury
Do your best to look stressed when you’re placed on house arrest
Rest your head on your bed
Knowing well you robbed the nest
And made off with the chest like silicone and saline
You could get away with murder
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poem by P.R. Prosper
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Visions pt2-Torment (Visions Inferno)
I opened my eyes only to see
Destruction and horror in front of me
The searing hot wind forced me to squint
What waited ahead, I dare not think
Dark clouds up high were victims of death
The air smelled of nothing but rotting flesh
I must take this path to make my way home
Wading through blood and stepping on bones
I heard the screams and wails of dead
Bodies moved about without need of a head
A hand tore at my arms, then at my face
I looked in some glass, they were all ablaze
The burning was nothing I could describe
In one, two, or forty lifetimes
Terror and fear is all that was furnished
But I must press on out of this furnace
I felt hatred and anguish surround me
And greed and lust trying to bound me
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poem by P.R. Prosper
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$$$$ and Some Change
Teasing the populace
A few in the acropolis lean back and forth
To a new opulent apocalypse
Profit margins monstrous
Changes lives to hieroglyphs
And knowledge sits in a store
At half price in obelisks
When you buy a novelist a silver spoon or a fork
-If it used to be familiar but now looks so strange
It’s just a side effect of money and some change
Money is a gossip kit
Its essence has a presence that screams
With glee while remaining ominous
Keeps the poor anonymous
Makes and breaks the politics
In any scene you can dream
It’s waiting on new hostages
Colored pink, purple, mellow yellow, blue or green
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poem by P.R. Prosper
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The Bad
You rob for a job
Steal for a deal
Lie for a dime
Beg for gold eggs
Harass for the cash
Borrow for sorrow
Lend for dividends
Or busted amends
Shake hands with Satans
Party with fool hearty
Bulldogs and hogs
Who squander their money
Off in the fog
Folks say you’ll pay
One day what you’re due
Everyone’s got to live
Why can’t they let you?
Instead they choose to map out your course
And track you ‘round like pets on all fours
Scratching and pawing at every door
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poem by P.R. Prosper
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Other Woman
She was enjoying a spring day outside on the stairs
With a book in one hand, the other playing with her hair
When her fiancé walked over, singing like Astaire
That he could not wait until the two became a pair
In love and war all’s fair, and she had won the war
She didn’t get what she wanted, so she wanted more
She was clearly hot for marriage, called him a fool’s clown
But when at last she saw the ice, she decided to cool down
There comes a point
When you think you don’t reap what you've put in
But it’s no fun to become just the other woman
They started great on their way, the years faded like barbers
And they stopped giving free meals to ducks down at the harbor
Two lives were lived under one roof and apart they had grown
Four walls, a bed, windows, & steps, this house was not a home
He stayed out late, working, reassured her to the end
That he was only working and he had no special friend
She met him several times before, but she couldn’t stop
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poem by P.R. Prosper
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The Good
You’re a good person
First into the office
Workin to exhaustion nervous
But always cautious and
Burstin with excitement and thirstin
For the worst when
Your boss is
Lurchin for his desserts and
The rumors are like tumors
They’ve got your head hurtin
But you keep from out blurtin
Mouth closed up like a curtain
Ready for paradise
Done workin with the desertion
They’ll all see you’re not worthless
Ears got your brains open
With the notion
Hopin that you’ll be coastin
Cruisin done losin
Towards a new promotion
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poem by P.R. Prosper
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Mannequin
As I was walking behind the night
I heard a low whispering off to my right
It was the pitter patter of rumor chatter
Skipping along beyond my sight
My ears started to ring
And every last breath started to cling
As I
Prepared to amend or defend
This fortress and its king
I spun through the dark, tried to conceal my fright
But the night turned on me and I was caught in the light
My fear grew crisper and the shadows of whispers
Became the faces of misses and misters
Going and going, their paces well practiced
I couldn’t tell genuine from actor and actress
Mannequins never had a smile so plastic
'Look me in the eye, ' said the woman in sunglasses
To hear such kind words that can’t make you warmer
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poem by P.R. Prosper
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