Poetic is a word that describes your self expression. Being poetic is turning little things that no one would see right away and turning it into a wonderful meaning. To be poetic you must have a feeling of knowledge of things around you, taking things of your dreams and making it your papers reality.
"O he, he is a poetic rose of life flowers layed"
This line shows that he is saying that he has a special soul, unique from everyone. The speaker is explaining that he has a poetic personality.
This line shows that he is saying that he has a special soul, unique from everyone. The speaker is explaining that he has a poetic personality.
by Ty-stein May 6, 2008
Someone who is poetic refers to their creative use of literary skills in expressing ideas in a certain way. They often make possibilities to use poetic skills to express themselves in showing the world a different view of all things that matter most. They are not just found in poem writers but are found in everyone who chooses to open themselves to people with an open heart.
by E.D Ladamir March 11, 2018
by capecod September 4, 2005
So basically when a friends says something poetic and you try to make a new word to sound edgy and cool to describe how poetic their poetic act was.
by e-rad-icate September 20, 2014
Probably the most underrated rapper ever, a genius. Definitely the best of Gravediggaz. Passed away from colon cancer in 2001.
"Yo, I got stress on my brain it causes chest pains
inside the best frames ghetto blood clots is scored by slug shots
and drug spots, well if you're too poor to move out
or get a new house, it's like livin in a war walkin through shootouts
And you doubt God exists, when hard fists
be poundin on your head like jackhammers
You're trapped in the black drama, you hear the laughter
seconds after that you fade out, you're played out, you're laid out
Your heart nearly gave out, you're lucky that you made out
with just a few scars when the beating ends
The streets let ya breathe again
But evil men, will soon be on the receiving end
of Universal Law, I'm callin on the meek and the poor
To fight back and never forfeit the day you have to go to war
With forces that are armed upon the seven continental borders
A mental fortress is essentials to absorb this
My sword hits the human orb until it orbits
In the art of war kids see Grym Reap be morbid
Since pieces of the lost civilization in the past
Had my photographs etched inside of pyramids
To laugh at this revelation, without 365 days of concentration
and twenty-four hour meditation, would be foolishly pagan
I'm ancient as 'amen', see I stay Grym
Throwin fools in in a pit full of pit bulls to be shaken
Or strapped to the crossroads of Hell and inner sin
Which trap the sinners in, to sell such in Sing-Sing
I bring Grym tidings, tidal-ed your wave all not exciting
Stop riding the dick, start writin your own shit
Cause I stick figures that think they fat and can't rap wind blast
I make em Slim Fast, lookin like stick figures
I'm all that, I bag chips at concerts and shows
Get more panties than hoes that boost Victoria Secret clothes
Foes is tagged like exposed toes at the coroner's
Kids with cold feet rise and fall like the barometer
Grym will mentally chop your career
See shit is locked down here, like penitentiary blocks in tears
Escape outta your ducts every time you hear my name
you better duck fate, or catch a fuckin face full of duct tape
You get smacked like a trick that sniffed off her money
Then smoked like Rzarectah with the blunts dipped in honey"
"Hey you little rich kid, what's your beef?
Come and tell the Grym Reaper all of your grief
You asked for a Benz and you only got a Jeep
Your pop's got endz, but yo he's mad cheap
Maybe you're a bastard child you think
Mom and dad are white and you're dark as ink
Maybe you're Sicilian with a tan
But you hate lasagna and the pizza man
Now you stand on the gravedigga lot and
You're singing the blues about the rough life you've got
Not! You don't wanna live no more
I guess you're really ready for the graveyard tour
When you get home just seal up your windows and your doors
Turn your oven on high for about four hours
Light you a blunt, kiss your ass goodbye
You gassed yourself cos it's a suicide!"
"it's Too Poetic, ain't nothing to fuck with"
inside the best frames ghetto blood clots is scored by slug shots
and drug spots, well if you're too poor to move out
or get a new house, it's like livin in a war walkin through shootouts
And you doubt God exists, when hard fists
be poundin on your head like jackhammers
You're trapped in the black drama, you hear the laughter
seconds after that you fade out, you're played out, you're laid out
Your heart nearly gave out, you're lucky that you made out
with just a few scars when the beating ends
The streets let ya breathe again
But evil men, will soon be on the receiving end
of Universal Law, I'm callin on the meek and the poor
To fight back and never forfeit the day you have to go to war
With forces that are armed upon the seven continental borders
A mental fortress is essentials to absorb this
My sword hits the human orb until it orbits
In the art of war kids see Grym Reap be morbid
Since pieces of the lost civilization in the past
Had my photographs etched inside of pyramids
To laugh at this revelation, without 365 days of concentration
and twenty-four hour meditation, would be foolishly pagan
I'm ancient as 'amen', see I stay Grym
Throwin fools in in a pit full of pit bulls to be shaken
Or strapped to the crossroads of Hell and inner sin
Which trap the sinners in, to sell such in Sing-Sing
I bring Grym tidings, tidal-ed your wave all not exciting
Stop riding the dick, start writin your own shit
Cause I stick figures that think they fat and can't rap wind blast
I make em Slim Fast, lookin like stick figures
I'm all that, I bag chips at concerts and shows
Get more panties than hoes that boost Victoria Secret clothes
Foes is tagged like exposed toes at the coroner's
Kids with cold feet rise and fall like the barometer
Grym will mentally chop your career
See shit is locked down here, like penitentiary blocks in tears
Escape outta your ducts every time you hear my name
you better duck fate, or catch a fuckin face full of duct tape
You get smacked like a trick that sniffed off her money
Then smoked like Rzarectah with the blunts dipped in honey"
"Hey you little rich kid, what's your beef?
Come and tell the Grym Reaper all of your grief
You asked for a Benz and you only got a Jeep
Your pop's got endz, but yo he's mad cheap
Maybe you're a bastard child you think
Mom and dad are white and you're dark as ink
Maybe you're Sicilian with a tan
But you hate lasagna and the pizza man
Now you stand on the gravedigga lot and
You're singing the blues about the rough life you've got
Not! You don't wanna live no more
I guess you're really ready for the graveyard tour
When you get home just seal up your windows and your doors
Turn your oven on high for about four hours
Light you a blunt, kiss your ass goodbye
You gassed yourself cos it's a suicide!"
"it's Too Poetic, ain't nothing to fuck with"
by dead, dirty & stinkin April 1, 2008
Verb meaning 'to do poetry' in a nonreading manner.
It can range from pretending to be a Shakespearean
actor in one's own residence, to practicing lines in
public in order to memorize poems. The term can
also be an adjective with a different pronunciation.
The verb pronounces the last syllable as 'kate' and
the adjective pronounces the final syllable as 'kit'.
It can range from pretending to be a Shakespearean
actor in one's own residence, to practicing lines in
public in order to memorize poems. The term can
also be an adjective with a different pronunciation.
The verb pronounces the last syllable as 'kate' and
the adjective pronounces the final syllable as 'kit'.
by Ward Smith February 16, 2009
by Zippo August 15, 2003