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Anon  Jun 2014
The Final Frontier
Anon Jun 2014
The Final Frontier

As “Danger” Donny Johnson doubtfully looked into the dark abyss,
He reminisced on his memories on earth that had led up to this.
These memories were few in number, for he could probably count them on two hands.
He lived a sub-average life, but always dreaming of new lands.
While his south-Chicago school was not up to par,
Donny was learning far beyond the bar.

The final frontier, space; he had found his calling.
A place where he could be alone.
Everyday, people pestered, poor, pathetic Donny;
His mother never paid attention, she wouldn’t listen to him moan.
His father was nowhere to be found, which was expected.
Without that second figure, Donny was just left feeling lonely and neglected.

But forward Donny tread, never looking back,
Getting good grades and keeping his life on track.
Still, no matter how hard he tried, Donny’s desire for attention never diminished,
Striving to make new friends, Donny started college with none, and sadly, that’s how he finished.
“But when I’m among the stars, there will be no need for attention,
I’ll be above all of these people, far above their comprehension.”

Eight years of college, and Danny was ready for the final step in becoming an astronaut.
NASA, he had done it.
“After all these years, mama I kid you not!”
But she still didn’t care, she thought he had wasted his life.
“Danger Donny is what they should call you, ‘cause you’re **** stupid to waste your life in space, flirtin’ with death.”
The walls Donny had built up came crashing down,
After all these years, and his mom still wanted him to stay on the ground.

“But what do you know”, Donny replied, with pools of tears in his eyes.
“My whole life you didn’t care about me. You pretended, but they were just lies!
How could you mom? You want me to quit the only thing I’m good at!”
Donny slammed down his cell phone, cried, and on the carpet he sat.

After severing all his ties, and leaving everything behind,
Donny soared to the Heavens, but stopped halfway.
He was there, he had done it;
The thing he had dreamed about almost every day.

His first space walk, the culmination of everything he had worked for.
This actually made him happy to leave his mom, that lying *****.
This was his life, one of the few people that do what they want to do.
Always had his eyes up here, through all the years that he grew.
But then, as accidents usually occur,
In a split second his rope became severed, and off Donny went.

First came panic, followed by denial, then acceptance.
Donny wondered. All he had said. Is this what he meant?
31 years of work, and this poor, intelligent man was going to die all alone.
And to think, his last conversation had been on the **** phone.

He had burned all his bridges, slammed shut all his doors just to come here.
And now what Donny longed for was in fact what he had wanted all his life,
For someone to come near.

It’s kind of funny, actually, he thought to himself.
I was gonna die alone down there anyway.
I didn’t know when it would happen,
But I guess it’s today.

As he unfastened the straps, Donny tried to recollect the few moments he had.
But Donny’s life just wasn’t great,
And his memories just made him sad.
And after pulling loose the last clasp, Donny’s helmet floated off.

Donny couldn’t breathe, and he had a feeling in his throat,
Like the urgent need to cough.
And in those last few seconds, Donny looked out, his vision crystal clear.

He had finally made it.
The final frontier.
“You must be Donny?”

asks a tall, thin man with olive-green skin.  He must be Italian, but then again, I’m not exactly sure. For Heaven’s sake - judging by his handshake, Justin Timberlake could break him into two. Distracted by the shiny pennies in his brown penny loafers, I don’t want to come across as rude, but I suddenly don’t care to know this dude. Then he says to me,  

“Tell me about yourself.”

“Well, my name is Donny. I’m bored, so I would like to give my self a lobotomy, but first I have to feed the monster that’s inside of me, so I must pick out the green mold in my expired salami.

“Instead of doing important things, I enjoy jumping up and down on my mattress that is made of squeaky springs while flapping my arms, pretending I have wings.

“Sometimes I get fidgety when this alcoholic, legless ****** stands too close to me, but then I feel guilty cause he’s blind and homeless and reeks likes ***, so I tell him he can lean on me.

“When I go to the dollar store I like to be a **** and drive the clerk berserk by asking him to do a price check on every item I’ve dropped on the floor. The manager grabs my collar and throws me out the door.

“I still ask my mother if I can please wear her skis when I climb trees only using my knees. She says, ‘Grow up! You’re 33, quit bothering me.’  I did!!! I’m 5’10… now what am I suppose to do then??

“I like to play the air fiddle and stand in the middle of the street in my bare feet with a mouth full of skittles, trying not to dribble, telling lots of riddles.
  
“Sometimes when I’m drinking I like to wear a black top-hat like Abe Lincoln then I get to thinking, while squawking like a chicken, how long I can keep my eyes open without blinking.
  
“‘Four score and seven years ago’ seems to be a mathematical equation that can be breaking down to zero. Oh, oh, oh! Did I ever tell you who my hero is??”

“donny”---“dooonny” “Doooonny” “DONNY!!
It’s time to leave and return to your room.”

“Room? What room?”

“Your room - there’s someone there to see you.”

“Who?”

“Your hero.”

I feel a gentle hand rest on my back and guide me to an unfamiliar door.  I enter into this mysterious room and hear the door shut and quickly lock behind me.  

Where is he?  “WHERE IS HE?!”   I hear my voice echo down the hallway.  I know they can hear me.  “TED NUGENT!!  MY HERO!  SWEATY UNCLE TEDDY!  WHERE IS MY HERRROOOOOO?!?!?!”

A large, olive-green plant stands proudly in the corner by the window.  How did my psychiatrist sneak in here?  

“You must be Donny?”
I don't like Ted Nugent.
spysgrandson Jul 2017
dead doe on the baked prairie grass,
buzzards circling overhead

we're in lawn chairs, downing Buds,
waiting for the feeding to begin

but Donny is impatient, expecting
the birds to dine on his schedule

NOW, this very second, while they
are riding the currents above

watching, waiting to see if we move
closer to our ****

Donny curses them: **** dumb
birds, I shot that deer for you

he shoots at the kettle, but they continue
long loops, unperturbed

Donny again cusses the buzzards
and shoots the doe again

as if killing her twice will hasten
the descent of the birds

Donny complains sweat is stinging
his eyes

he pours the last of our water over
his head and removes his shirt

near sundown we are out of beer
and Donny is asleep

one by one the birds land, until the wake
is feasting before me

talons, beaks at work, tugging, tearing;
the eyes the appetizers it seems

I don't wake Donny, though I know he will be mad
for missing this meal

hungry as he was for a blood mass, but,
I'll let my brother sleep

while the shadows of skillful sculptors  
grow longer on the plain

and the fawn becomes a crimson work
of art Donny would never appreciate
The Trumpoet Feb 2017
Oh Donny and Arnie got into a battle,
begun by The Donald who started to prattle
on something so urgent... important... momentous,
which is: Arnie's ratings on this year's "Apprentice".

So Arnie said, "Trump - What's your priority,
a show you produce or the presidency?"
Then Donny said, "I'll show you how much I care"
as he made a dog's breakfast by hijacking prayer.

So Arnie said, "Donny, you ignorant *****,
when it comes to careers, perhaps we should switch.
You take on the ratings as job number one,
while I sit in the Oval and get something done!"

Of course, this whole thing's a ridiculous act
on the part of The Donald, so he can distract
all of us and the press and the whole internet
from the seemingly fascist agenda he's set.

So let's make a vow not to speak of this stuff,
and let us not heed this celebrity fluff.
Let's not make muckraking the thing that we do...
But now I have realized... I've just done it too!
You can also see this and my other Trump poems at: www.trumpoet.com
Link to video of this poem: https://youtu.be/Skz53RmFRYg
Written February 8, 2017
Gwilled Cheese May 2018
**** the non-believers
**** the ***** and **** the fools
Go grab your Dad's gun and we'll go shoot up the
whole
school.
Yeah.
I got her nudes,
don't you think that's pretty cool?
You know that Jesus loves you,
would you like to see him soon?

You're so offended these days
well **** my **** you ******* *****.
******* licking my Dad's ****
Donny T's alright,
Don't you think?

Jesus loves you.

I don't,
But Jesus loves you.
I was thinking about the saying "People are so offended these days" and how it's generally something an ******* says after they're said something assholish. We aren't more offended these days, we are less tolerant of bigotry, and the ******* who haven't been affected by bigotry feel attacked for being bigots so they say **** like this to feel better about their *******.
People use to get offended by woman's ankles for christ sake! We've come so far, sweet Jesus.
Timothy Brown Feb 2017
Names are funny.

Have you ever wondered what your name would be if your parents didn't name you?

I'm one of the lucky few
that know.

If my parents didn't name me,
my name would be
Timothy.

You see, apparently,
when two people love each other,
Mommy cheats on Donny
with daddy and all three
demonize the baby.

Unfortunately,
abortion isn't an option.
Poor Donny believes
his little Johnson
made a tiny Willie
but really
it's Mike's Rick.
The trick wasn't revealed
until
Donny signed the birth certificate.

Obviously, Karen's husband abandoned their family.
Mike ripped his love from her and gave it to Dominique.

Karen,
twice-scorned,
mid-divorce,
postpartum,
decides a shelter isn't suitable for a nameless infant.

At this point, it's a little too late for abortion.
Nowhere to go,
knowing she can't stay,
Adoption became the practical option.


The noxious auction caused a nauseous reaction to her conscious. Karen picked the option, least pompus, with the most promise. An intuitively honest Christian was brought to her room so she could sign the synopsis.


As she's reviewing the terms of this blood oath, she glances at both of the parents cradling her second baby boy. They turn and ask


"What is his name?"

"I don't know. I thought he was going to be a she so I had the name Sade."


"That's ok, we have a perfect name in mind. Timothy."
She never signed the adoption papers but she kept the name.
©February 26, 2017 by Timothy Brown.
AB  Mar 2016
Trump
AB Mar 2016
Poor little Donny.
Long ago all he had
Was his overlarge, pumpkin-shaped head,
His tiny baby hands,
And a small loan of a million dollars.

He struck out for himself,
With only that million dollars to his name.
And he became a success...
And then went bankrupt,
And then found success again,
And then bankruptcy,
And finally more success.

He bought himself a wife,
Made himself a daughter he wants to date,
And put in a run for president.

Now he stands atop a pedestal,
Spewing forth hate-filled words,
Xenophobic and mono-syllabic.
His white washed fans, bowing before their Fuhrer.

Our best and brightest spend their days decrying his actions,
Our true leaders point out his massive ineptitudes,
Our comedians creating thoroughly researched,
20 minute rants about this tiny-handed, pumpkin man.
The other leaders of the world stand baffled by Donny's popularity.

But still his stands behind his podium,
With his red hat,
Waving his baby hands and blubbering about his
"Great brain. The best brain."
And the
"Fantastic wall. The great wall. A Trump wall."

And so the question becomes,
What will this tyrannical child do
When his presidential aspirations are destroyed?
For he lacks the support of any minority group,
Any women's group,
And any level-headed person.

The answer is simple:
He will sue, or at least threaten to do so.
He will rant and rave like the lunatic that he is.
His racist followers will do the same.
But their blabbering will be lost in the words of the intelligent.

Or at least we hope that will be the outcome.
Why, oh why, little handed Donny,
Must you spew such hatred and xenophobia?
Why can you not return to your tower of gold,
With your expensed wife, and bobble sized pumpkin head?

Please leave us be.
Just my take on this whole Trumpscapade
Kenna  Aug 2012
Tie Dye Dreams
Kenna Aug 2012
Lights flash.
Glowsticks twirl.
rip   snap   glow
rip snap glow
ripssnapglow
ripsnapglow
rispnapskgoa
thelkaljth
the words blend
the sounds smear
the colors undulate
and suddenly
i heave
i hurl
i ****
i puke
my stomach caves
my body shivers
my brow sweats
my knees quiver
i lurch to the ground
splashing in my warm milky surprise.
and expectedly
i puke
i ****
i hurl
i heave
the world twists
the technicolor dream-coat of Donny Osmond happiness swells.
it rips
it pulls
it tears
it *****
and I'm a hostage to its psychedelic screams.
Faces twist into positions they aren't meant to hold.
gasps wheeze into my pores, burrowing like soft, comforting mole rats into my being.
I'm dissected.
Tye Dye Dreams is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

— The End —