Generic Rappin’ Eastside River

Suck my bleach,
yo President whitey.

Suck my bleach,
yo President whitey.

When the kingdoms you want,
the kingdoms you create.

Suck my bleach,
yo President whitey.

You suckin’ people’s faith.
You suckin’ people’s fear.

Suck my bleach,
yo President whitey.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
from:
antipoémus thumbnail image
Antipoémus (poetry book)

My President Of The Shakespeare

“I believe that freedom and commerce
are values worthy of defending,
that those who may try to shake
the foundation of American prosperity
shall be ineffectual in their attempts.
I believe that terrorism and terrorists
no longer have caves to hide in,
nor governments to protect them,
that all the world is allied
in the fight for the preservation of
what is good.
I believe in a high protein, low fat diet.
And that the evil ones shall be dealt
a great talk with freedom.
Americans, knowledgeable,
sleep tight by your justice,
an economy awaits whose perseverance
shall triumph
the resiliency of freedom.”

— My President Of The Shakespeare


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
READ POETRY tewkMehrtin animated gif image

Tactic Racial Lullaby

When the twilight was falling
American soldiers took their babies.
. . . for babies must be taken . . .
Whose babies?
Where babies?
Babies gooby goo-goo?
Do people still need babies?

When the war against the Arabs started
Americans hid their babies.
This baby.
My baby.
Cannot babies live subterranean?
They are very tiny diggers.
Teensy tiny, dig, dig.

– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
from:
antipoémus thumbnail image Antipoémus (poetry book)

Sacramento, California, 27 July 2003

The car arrives at Point One.

The other car makes its presence kin
to the car in opposition.

This is not mere car at Point Two,
but rather car between
Point Two and Three –
(the car at) Point Two and Seven Eights.

The car in opposition dear Titus,
the emperor is in danger.

If he makes a move right now,
then he is in Concourse,
… like checkmate.

Look at the men on top of the building.
They lay with rifles and binoculars.
They are
the Dispatched Guardians of Hegemony.
Always white, or at least in the appearance
of proper white males.
Yes, tightly cut hair, tight shirts, watches,
sunglasses, body spray.
Yes, always males.

They checkmate us, checkmate us.
Checkmate our freedom.
The Dispatched Guardians of Hegemony.
You allow them.

– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
from:
antipoémus thumbnail image Antipoémus (poetry book)