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Bhill Feb 21
the whole intention of life is to get through it
there is no instruction manual
there is no easy way to explain it to someone
you are conceived and you die
your journey is not predetermined
your voyage can be altered
your trip around the sun is your own unique ordeal
put your seat belt on and enjoy the ride...!

Brian Hill - 2020 # 52
How’s your ride been?
Mikey Kania Nov 2019
tizzop is the lover of
a single mother  

years ago tizzop
knocked at our door
nighttime the remains of
day splattered across the floor

when you think of tizzop:

think of your last
déjà vu and what you
felt
think of early immigration:
the german belt

tizzop: a combination of
people lovin/people hatin'
pride of a nation yet
last letter standing in a
poem without ending

long time ago tizzop
knocked at our door
nighttime the remains of
day splattered across the floor

tizzop hungry; he asked for
food while slowly taking his hat off
to my mom; she delighted since she
saw into the eyes of a warrior acting
quite politely

then tizzop fainted and fell on
the floor obviously he was starving
mom fried some chicken

later at the table tizzop gobbled
bonez'n'skin;
the more i looked at tizzop's
traits the way he moved his
cheeks and chewed his food
i sensed that we were  
kin

nobody talked: familiar
silence filled the room

the more i looked at tizzop's
bossy smile and his
black teeth i was
reminded of something

like the déjà vu of a  
déjà vu

strong connection between
tizzop and me: he
stayed at our place and soon became

my brother
little by little mom turned him
into her lover

wanted to **** him but
didn't
**** it this poem gotz to be
hidden
a tizzopish report
Äŧül Nov 2019
You don't get wise with last molar teeth,
Owl Baba is a living proof of the theory.

You can buy shooting medals,
And even a black belt in Aikido.
A sarcastic Indian political pun.
My HP Poem #1797
©Atul Kaushal
MisfitOfSociety Jun 2019
Ride this moment till the end,
With your consciousness strapped behind a seat belt.
Who knows the roads we will take,
The views that we will see,
And the stories we will make.
Sudipta Maity Feb 2019
Some times I wish
If I will end like a poem after couple of lines.
With broken stanza,  rhythm unfinished.
Some nights I found myself as extraterrestrial,
in Mars, in Jupitar then
lost across the Kuiper belt
So far from the horizon.
Some time I wish
If it's become true
that i never been here myself exist.
Ron Gavalik Jul 2018
I came up in Pittsburgh,
the Rust Belt of hard labor
with a deep love of community.
As children, we collected railroad spikes
from the tracks and we cut our shins
on random iron shards in **** hills.
Some of us were union middle-class
and others breathed the gray air of poverty.
That hardly mattered. As we stood atop
foothills that overlooked the city skyline,
soot embedded under our fingernails,
we lived as kings and queens
that oversaw the future.

-Ron Gavalik
Hit my Patreon, you scurvy freeloaders. Patreon.com/rongavalik
A bottle beneath her cab in a pick-up truck
or the fifth caught here behind the wheel
If pride wouldn't don a cat about this vision wholly refined again
and like a goat with a kid tied this climb atop the land
and she found with her chickens in this ford or a pig there
to book the dance with them all backstage
and now her life was still full of assuage even so she sings
the finer things in life here with that ***** in his belt.
Addison René May 2016
i wish that you'd wear your seatbelt
because i want you and no one else
i wish we were both sedated
because then there would be no reason
to say we couldnt make it
and the car is empty now,
and i can't seem to figure it out -
because now my heart is in my throat
because i don't remember a word
that you spoke
because the music skimmed the air
and i hang on to every note -
now the melody is diguised
in those little lies
while the love we shared slowly died...
so,
i wish that i didn't wear my seatbelt
because now i want to be anyone
but myself
Phim Apr 2016
Ode to the belt
And how nice it never felt
Ode to the fist
That knew just how to make my stomach twist
Ode to the bruises
Which left no excuses
Ode to my jaw
For that punch it never quite saw
Ode to my ears
All those nights when I could hear my brothers' tears
Ode to my dad
And every time he's ever gotten mad
Ode to the world
And every obstacle its hurled
Ode to ode
And how well it never quite bode
Peter J Thomas Mar 2016
I'm glad today that I wore my belt,

Oh the shock that I would have felt,

Imagine the shame,

With nobody to blame,

From what I'd shown in Church when I knelt,
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