Pontoon Ponderings (questions, comments, concerns)

by cunabear

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Perched on a pontoon of prolific poetic providers and I think I just lost my favorite lighter

To a lot of y’all empty empaths
The concept lacks the construct’s tact
Stumbling in and out of brick walls wearing the invisibility cap

Today’s celebrity gossip is tomorrow’s waste management issues
I sneezed on the thought of fame and the pain that ensues
Ensuring my self-help health insurance got the funds for spare tissues
Bless we and we bless you

The only way the ark could’ve been made in 45,000 days is by the hand of an archmage with incredible smithing and enchantment ability
Gender-swapped Ella Enchanted doing the body-rock with a slanted lean that’d throw Billy Jean off her rocker
The Amazonians distribute everything for copper when the gold is withheld
Got a hold on the account of your frail desires to keep a personal myth or two upheld
Smelted diamonds into a buckle to hold that sword up by the hilt

Cold G’s walking on stilts to spin fire in the eyes of a flame lord and struck a brainwave chord that grew my heart container till its bursting at the core and overflowing
Rhythm and Poetry is an omega elixir
Built by bedrock foundation to uphold all your fixtures
Fixing systemic fissures while disrupting social hierarchy
Disturb the need to cater to your beliefs
I’m affixed to my mixture of holy spells and diluting disbelief in the ever-changing nature of things I can’t see

Red is a color of power and I dispute that
A calm flame burns brighter shades of blue
Rebuke the asshats with no respect for hazmats adorned at the time of black birth in a laundry basket overloaded with filthy whites
A mix of colors is nice but the detergent price is a deterrent from submersion

How dare we who try to remain clean of our own shed blood find peace?

Reminder that the black excellence I embody ain’t bought or sold by anybody
No royalties can buy my royalty
No false loyalties can defy my poise
Poignant point; everything ain’t meant to be
Bought and sold like they got the infinite gold cheat
Subjecting humble shopkeeps with highway robbery
Actively killing the thing in the name of the thing
Under the banner of a god who could care less for trivialities

Under the banner of a god, who could care?

I spend less and less time concerned for how full their urns feel when smashed on the land of those who were killed in the name of free-speech when those white men the same knuckle draggin’ dungeon slag who slut shame and don’t wash hands when they pee

Poor boy grown mad wealthy in relationships and serenity
Born with a spoon spray-painted silver and he dipped the tip in liquid gold just to freak the shit

Then spit that mush out his mush-mouth
Counting blessings showcased on my extremities while snooze-cruising on a kush cloud
Reflecting like a spell caster should on the line of defense
Breaking my glasses like Spider-Man when he no longer needs a lens of truth to see the sin that men do


released October 10, 2018
Produced by baby.erf
Lyrics & Vocals written, recorded, & performed by cunabear.


all rights reserved



cunabear Savannah, Georgia

Patron Saint of Patron Saints.

Jazzy, lascivious, psychedelic rap.

EPK: beartoothcollective.wixsite.com/cunabear

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