Poetry is for writing about love and pain, its "the talking bacon of the soul..."

This page collectrs all kindz of Wizznutzz poems including Asian-Style HAIKUS further down, and "odes" and also Etan Thomas HAM - SLAMS!!!!

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Etan Thomas vs Auguist Strindberg:
Tale of the Tape

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Etan Thomas:
Exclusive Excerpt from "More Than An Athlete"

Wizznutzz have obtained a excerpt from #1 EDUTAINER Etan Thomas' upcoming book "More Than an Athlete" Also check out this Etan poem on WAR. Oh my Oakleys It really has the words "true warriers"!!!

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I am a King of one, subject to none but
and I
Eyes pregnant with visages of players to a throne
Pretenders who have shown, their souls turn like a basketball

A revolution.

I am the last left standing, the original prophet
My mons pubis is braided like Anubis before me
And now nobody can ignore me, score on me
I fill the lane with brains,
Reading futures in the stains
On my game worns.

Now I look upon my culture,
I see ballers, sure I do
Hard corers in Haute Couture, in furs
Enough to make my ancestry - stir

My brothers among me,
Kwame a black walnut tree,
Lorenzo in his Benzo, give Stevie Blake his Vitamin D
Gheorghe, the Great White Way,
My endocrine Giant is dying on the parquet

My soldier in hardwood war, Haywood
I ask: "What sound is made from the clapping of one small hand?"
A heart bigger that the prostate gland
of Abe
Honest, Master Pollin, an ego so kingly swollen, let me go,
Because the Foggy Bottom Metro is still an underground railroad

A time now of No kings,
No bling bling, a dawn for champions

Upon a time I was the first born here
In a time when King Hidi had
a taste for rookie cockery and chocolate fleece,
he held the locker room lease. Then in a day
to Phoenix, his reign nixed,
I showered for the first time in peace.

And then the King of Kings came to town
Riding on devils pacts, the backs of mules.
He brought his Airs(tm),
his nostalgic cloths, he filled arenas with the moths
Of decay
With a lady of white at his side
comma, K.

Now they gave Mike a motor bike. "Ride away ride away"
But no ride can hold old men's pride
So with a wince, The Frog fired the Prince.

It was once wrote that
Of this traveler from an antique land
Two vast and balky legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Grand, half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

"My name is Michael, King of Kings:
Look upon my works, ye Faggots, and despair!"

Nothing beside remains.
Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

But the devil, the King, he is not a man.
Its an Association
That cuts the checks,
So I kneel and look this devil in the eye.

And say:
I will honor my ancestors, for I am the hiphop poet,
the last poet,
And there will be
Another last poet
After me

And as I drop my knowledge, my backpack rap
At a Republic Gardens slam, it is your soft white daughters
who swallow it all
At what price?
A two drink minimum and I think:

Now who are you calling slave?

Who is King
And who the Knave?

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by Ernest Hemmingway

Darvin stood up and walked to the end of the station. Across, on the other side, were fields of grain and trees along the banks of the Ebro. Far away, beyond the river, were mountains. The shadow of a cloud moved across the field of grain and he saw the river through the trees. 'And we could have all this,' she said. 'And we could have everything and every day we make it more impossible.'
'What did you say?' said Darvin.
'We can have everything.'
'No, we can't.'
'We can have the whole world.'
'We can go everywhere.'
'No, we can't. It isn't ours any more. I know I have a job to do, and I'm always going to be ready to do it. But they wont give me the chance. They send me away. They send me to play Chinamen. I'll play Chinamen.'
'They like to be called Chinese.'
'I'll play squirrels.'
'It can still be yours Darvin'
'No, it can't. And once they take it away, you never get it back. It's not been easy to sit so much this season, but I have no complaints. '
'But they haven't taken it away.'
'They want me to come in and be a spark for this team and that's exactly how I want to play.'
'Come on back in the shade,' he said. 'You mustn't feel that way.' 'They won't look me in the eye now.'
'You don't mean that. We will get some drinks. Don't think about it anymore.'
'I can't even go home. Home to Saginaw. My mother. Stares at me. That way. She is the Mayor.'
'She is your mother. It will be OK. Everything will be like it was.'
'Saginaw has hills. The hills stare at me. Do you know that feeling? Phil Chenier does. The hills there, they are like hills of white bacon.'
'You aren't even making sense dear. Try and relax.'
'It is white.'
'I've seen the hills, yes they are white.'
'No the bacon. Turkey bacon. Its white.'
'You are hungry is all. I'll order us some sandwiches. Please stop pacing.'
'Hunger. Uniform Violation. Thats what they said it was. Just some cheese in my sock. Tucked in my tube sock. Show me where it says that."
'It was just String cheese.'
'Its not your fault.'
'No excuses. ' Darvin said. 'I just know things. I will get to contribute.'

Its was raining outside, and Darvin put on yesterdays clothes.

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Stack & G-Whiz Love vs. L.A.
Stackhouse slams, game over.
G-Whiz, Jerry wait, hope on court.
"Touch my costume, Stack."

Ode to Ghitza...
the fresh ideas,
good value too, at giant.
my giant dying.

Ode to Jake "Kermy" Jacoby, Honoray Wizz...
at the big screen store.
hi, this is my wife irene.
my giant dying.

"bullets kill people".
if you throw them hard enough.
heel, good sea dog, heel.

standing at the line
brick after brick after brick
Calbert hurts the rim

-Steve F

blue and red lights flash
CWebb disses the po-po
hello, pepper spray

-Steve F

dueling crap centers
justify existences
inspiring wizznutzz


The cruel North Wind
Chills the hobbled Wizards: O
Hibachi, warm us!


Beautiful Cream Cheese
Wearing Tempura Batter
Surely best-dressed sushi


sushi with tony
new duo, sorry awvee:
limoless, lonely


The Palace
the cruel eyes on me.
LET ME IN!!! let me out of
this dicey madness.

Fantasia for Yellow Brain
"Wizard not lizard!"
"I thought you said, 'lizard'!" Dumb
ass giant dying.

Dave Johnson
Rod Rod Rod Rod Rod.
Oh, Rod Rod Rod Rod Rod Rod.
Ham slam Rod's half smoke?

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The story of the Wizards fan
Is not one about glory,
it isn't a story about and triumph and trophies,
pedastals and parades.

But itís a story about pushing open the very heavy, groaning doorway that is life,
And for all your flaws and failings, once again throwing yourself back through it.

It is about the raw flesh of desire growing together with the courage of struggle

Itís a story about finding ones way, and finding oneself.

Itís a story about medical marijuana and plantar fascitis,
about a man named Jerry, and his flame-retardant lifemate, and static electricity.

Itís a story about destiny and the redemptive power of the halfsmoke

It is a story about overcoming odds,

but mostly,
It is a story about not overcoming odds.


ABE POLLIN: "I still respect you Michael"
JORDAN: "I still respect your Mister Pollin"
TED LEONSIS: "I still respect you, Bacon"


You will never intern at AOL again
As you did in the Summer and Fall of '99
Look what happened to their stock since then

Cab Calloway is rolling over in his grave
Goodbye tube socks
Stretched so high, you had to fly
away Hidi, away

White for Knight
All is dark

hidi hidi hidi ho

-- Dirty Uncle Pete Sweigard --


salieri is an old man
salieri is successful in his time
salieri is a court musician
salieri is not able to recognise and accept divine irony

salieri is dracula
salieri is filled with bitterness and envy
salieri is in the hopeless situation of a man incurably infatuated with his greatest enemy
salieri is a man who is obviously crazy
salieri is both devastated and enthralled
salieri is reserved and sneering

salieri is a man who longs to possess genius
salieri is jealous of god's ability to dole out talent as he sees fit
salieri is damned with the understanding that he can't live up to the greatness only he is able to perceive
salieri is cast down among the dumb masses of humanity

salieri is sitting in a wheel


The capitol is like Activol, I take two and run into the wall
Make money money shoot three like Rush
So damn good all the towel boys blush
Red like Sienna, glow like Kenna
Drop a field goal and waltz like Vienna

-- Sasha Frere Jones --


nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the unsure cartographies of innocence,
rendering man and child together with each breathing

i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses

nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands

-- ee cummings --


Kw.Brown, lift your legs akimbo to the cosmos.
Fight for the power, the ball,
the turnovers off your shins, hands and heart.
And preach to the Steve Czabenaness of the world, he who call you turd in the bowl.

When Steve looks in mirror he sees fat bald porn man with turd in face.
He calls black folks Tyrones. Poo face, disgrace, race---ist? Czabe, repent.
Polish Pollen. Moisten. Repeat.
Think about it.


Little hands clappin'
Children are travelin'
Little hands claspin'
Truth they are graspin'
A world with no pain
For one and all
And they are learnin'
Souls they are yearnin'
Nice place to play
And no place to fall
Come let us be there
Come let us be there