DJ GOLDEN DELICIOUS
DJ. G.o.D.
by Odidi ODIDIVA Mfenyana
(suggested theme song to accompany poem: Romanthony - Bring U Up (PBR Streetgang Remix)
Golden Delicious round hot buns
Freshly baked and steaming hot from the oven
Mitted and gloved in faded dirty blue jeans
Giving that salaciously sweet wink of decolletage
A mischievous crevice of a smile
Alluding to that crack
A dirty joke wrapped in a puckered pink rose
Nobody else knows how to asphyxiate a room full of men
Raising the temperature in slow motion half seconds
As you lean forward - bend down - stretch up - scratch that
Expose that tanned golden brown, silky smooth torso
Smoking up staring eyes like Vaseline smeared lenses
Ogling a wet dream of sweating skin slapping and slurping
A lusty groaning gritty grind
Your Scandinavian Sandy Blonde Surfer locks
A sexy white squall of waves
An undulating storm straining against a fashionably fashioned
Japanese inspired Chignon bun
Cascade over your gorgeously charming good looks
Long blonde lashes framing Atlantic Blue Laced Agate eyes
pretty and precious
And that mouth a Cupid's kiss with an African Sting
Swollen to arousing perfection
A silent seduction
Spouting nonchalance in a parlance
Quintessentially induced to great Good Hope
You inspire a chorus of admirers
A tragedy of hubris you infuse in your girlfriend double speak
A slight of hand, a sneaky - cheeky little riddle
A quick witted deadpan leaving a Pink Elephant in the room
Time warped and hanging like piggy in the middle
As a skilled purveyor performer of music
You invoke serendipity's bliss
Your eyes burning bright
The lips plump in a pout with a dimpled smirk
Only the hyena whistles, giggles, and shouts
Feeding on the seamless syncopation of synchronised sounds
Sweeping effortlessly into songs,
soundscapes that set the dancefloor alight
Into a frenzy of gyrating rhythms speaking in tongues
That would be the envy of Naira Billionaire Pastors and Prophets
You struggle to keep your feet from turning you into that cartoon freak
The egotistical conceit cut-out, too high on his own supply
Nothing says "wanker" like the growing cancer of self absorbed music selectors
Mixologists ordaining themselves their own barometre: the audience, the crowd, the Go-Go dancers
Of coarse you have more class in that ass
In fact you secretly seek the approval of the dancefloor
Only then does your beauty become an albatross to your vulnerability
A humility to be recognised, appreciated and respected
On your creative skillset and not your assets
" Groove is in the heart"
is the delight at the core of your existence, your Calling
It beggars your disbelief that it must be contorted and prostituted
To sustain you in monetary value
And yet it must
As living off your looks is a banality that has metastasised your cynicism
Biting sarcasm, jaded jokes and twisted your wit
Its the cruel real politik of having it all
The big white dick
Don't care too much and you may never care enough
by Odidi ODIDIVA Mfenyana
(suggested theme song to accompany poem: Romanthony - Bring U Up (PBR Streetgang Remix)
Golden Delicious round hot buns
Freshly baked and steaming hot from the oven
Mitted and gloved in faded dirty blue jeans
Giving that salaciously sweet wink of decolletage
A mischievous crevice of a smile
Alluding to that crack
A dirty joke wrapped in a puckered pink rose
Nobody else knows how to asphyxiate a room full of men
Raising the temperature in slow motion half seconds
As you lean forward - bend down - stretch up - scratch that
Expose that tanned golden brown, silky smooth torso
Smoking up staring eyes like Vaseline smeared lenses
Ogling a wet dream of sweating skin slapping and slurping
A lusty groaning gritty grind
Your Scandinavian Sandy Blonde Surfer locks
A sexy white squall of waves
An undulating storm straining against a fashionably fashioned
Japanese inspired Chignon bun
Cascade over your gorgeously charming good looks
Long blonde lashes framing Atlantic Blue Laced Agate eyes
pretty and precious
And that mouth a Cupid's kiss with an African Sting
Swollen to arousing perfection
A silent seduction
Spouting nonchalance in a parlance
Quintessentially induced to great Good Hope
You inspire a chorus of admirers
A tragedy of hubris you infuse in your girlfriend double speak
A slight of hand, a sneaky - cheeky little riddle
A quick witted deadpan leaving a Pink Elephant in the room
Time warped and hanging like piggy in the middle
As a skilled purveyor performer of music
You invoke serendipity's bliss
Your eyes burning bright
The lips plump in a pout with a dimpled smirk
Only the hyena whistles, giggles, and shouts
Feeding on the seamless syncopation of synchronised sounds
Sweeping effortlessly into songs,
soundscapes that set the dancefloor alight
Into a frenzy of gyrating rhythms speaking in tongues
That would be the envy of Naira Billionaire Pastors and Prophets
You struggle to keep your feet from turning you into that cartoon freak
The egotistical conceit cut-out, too high on his own supply
Nothing says "wanker" like the growing cancer of self absorbed music selectors
Mixologists ordaining themselves their own barometre: the audience, the crowd, the Go-Go dancers
Of coarse you have more class in that ass
In fact you secretly seek the approval of the dancefloor
Only then does your beauty become an albatross to your vulnerability
A humility to be recognised, appreciated and respected
On your creative skillset and not your assets
" Groove is in the heart"
is the delight at the core of your existence, your Calling
It beggars your disbelief that it must be contorted and prostituted
To sustain you in monetary value
And yet it must
As living off your looks is a banality that has metastasised your cynicism
Biting sarcasm, jaded jokes and twisted your wit
Its the cruel real politik of having it all
The big white dick
Don't care too much and you may never care enough
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