I give you
The Funkulator The Poet
Thanks for that free verse series to the female deity,
Now, next to the stage of open mic poetry night,
Ummm, Funkulator…
I’m The Funkulator The Poet,
Put away your Ipod or Tablet,
Digitized Kindle Walt Whitman,
The lyrical spindle, love poem hitman.
I’m the Funkulator ,
Not an escalator,
But I go down,
Not an elevator,
But I’ll get you up,
I’m the Funkulator,
Not Darth Vader,
I can be mysterious
But not depressed,
Impressed?
I thought not,
I’ve barely started sowing
Seeds of seduction,
Deep in the seat
Of your pants,
Implants,
Or by chance,
Your beautiful mind.
Funkulator complements your hair,
Your dic-
-tion,
But is looking at your behind.
I’m the Funkulator, The Poet.
Bringing on a Sonnet
To make your knees quake,
You been asleep?
Be Awake,
Or come sleep with me,
Or at least have a cup of black coffee.
Earl
Grey
Tea
I’ll get a little cream
stuck in my mustache,
And you’ll laugh,
I’ll pay for yours in cash,
Sacagawea dollars,
A bard and baller.
Funkulator isn’t buried in debt.
Wet?
Nah, that’s just my slicked back hair,
Because I care about grooming,
Clean and well trimmed,
My suit is retro and well hemmed.
Funkulator casts with his deep sea fishing pole.
Catching
Ladies, Men,
Hooked deep in the soul,
I’m Funkulator The Poet
All I can see is a
Funkulator-the-Poet -
Shaped-Hole.
That I will fill
With Funkulater play dough,
From my fireside poet flow.
Listen to the imaginary bass line,
When I’m done reciting, we can have some face time.
I’m the Funkulator the Poet,
I love you so much,
I bought a canoe,
With new paddles to row it,
Out to an abandoned island,
Where no one is around,
And I’ll never be found,
All I brought was my laptop,
And 160gigs of Tom Waits songs
And Experimental Hip Hop.
I pounded on those keys
A beautiful letter to you,
But without a printer I couldn’t put it in a bottle,
So I packed back up,
And sailed back across the sea,
Went straight into the
library,
Stuck in my thumb drive and hit print.
I downloaded some Will Smiths songs,
And back I went to my secret little island,
The palm trees, penguins, and polar bear cubs.
I rolled up your letter like a scroll,
And tossed it into the waves.
Because,
I’m the Funkulator The Poet
This was a metaphor and you know it,
To explain the lengths the Funkulator will travel,
To unravel,
The kittens ball of yarn
That is true love.
I’m the Funkulator The Poet,
And I’ll take you back to my mansion.
My butler is actually all three kids from Hanson,
Glued together to look like Alfred,
For Batman,
But don’t worry, Funkulator isn’t spooky,
I’m not dark,
But all my light switches have dimmers,
My cooks will mull us some wine,
We can watch Fresh Prince Reruns
while it simmers.
My couch isn’t leather
Because leather is mean,
It’s made of a material designed by NASA
And sold only on TV,
QVC, Home shopping Network,
Funkulator the Poet will buy you gifts,
As the tone of the evening shifts,
And Boyz To Men,
Gets switched on,
hands free,
by telepathy,
my house knows my moods,
now I’m reading your mind,
let the Funkulator,
hold your hand and paint you with a simile…
No.
I’m the Funkulator the Poet
And I’m not giving that part away,
Think of what happens next
As an incentive to stay,
Where you are till I’m done reciting
I don’t sing, I don’t flex,
But I funk my way to your heart like
A Julia Roberts movie in the multiplex.
I’m the Funkulator,
Not A terminator,
I’m all real man,
But I did come from the future,
Or at least I can predict it.
I’m the Funklator,
And I’ll rhyme some more later,
If you give me a chance,
Invite Funkulator to the afterhours
Poetry dance party
I’ll shake my stanzas
And thrust my poetic license,
At my audience,
Heard all the way in the back,
Like a Greek Amphithearer,
Let’s ride home,
On my two-seater
Bike.
Change out of this fancy doublet,
If you like.
Because.
I’m the Funkulator The Poet.
