#vim
I got me a Kangaroo
Lives way down in my pants
He seldom sits quiet
He'd rather get up and dance.
He goes Bo-ing! Boing! Boing!
I can't get him stopped
He's always on the go
Yea! he's always on the hop.
II
Well, he ain't no Dodo
He sure knows how to pogo
Even when I say no! no!
He keeps on on the go! go!
(Bit of a yo-yo)
And when he's full of vim
There's no catching him
I only hope my pants hold out
And he don't pop out.
III
Now how can I put forward
My Best face
When I got him down there
Bouncing all over the place.
He's up, then he's down
Then he's back up again
Up and down all day
Like a demented drawbridge.
IV
He goes Bo-ing! Boing! Boing!
And I go Down! Down! Down!
Whoa-aa Boy!
I go one way
While he goes the other
Man! he's tearing me asunder
I'm every which way.
My mind full of insecurities & fears
And my Kangaroo down there
He's looking up at me saying
What the hell are you doing up there.
V
O! what am I going to do
With my wild Kangaroo,
What am I going to do !!!
What! Get him a didgeridoo ???
(A didgeri-didgeri-doo!)
Have you got a Kangaroo
Down in your pants ?
"Ooooo! Whoo!" sang the girls
"yes! we Dooo Whooo!!!"
What! Wait a minute, you mean...
You mean girls, they got Kangaroos too !!!
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 6:16 PM UTC
less than twenty four hours after dashing off a poem
explaining why i wanted to die
found me experiencing physical duress vis a vis,
a bowel movement wherein waste unable to expel
from the **** of this guy
which bout with ****** obstruction
found me doubled over
with lower abdominal distress
whereby comfort found me unable to lie
down nor sit upright (with back padded with pillows
against the cellar brick wall),
thus severe bloating a bonus well nigh
and managed to muster the means to bare
frigid arctic vortex aire to purchase
the Acme brand Metamucil,
which akin to drano doth ply
thru the excretory tract
supposedly loosening the stools,
which optimism (product
didst earn claim to fame) generated a sigh
if that expressed intent
to cease livingsocial would try
humph enjoining
this lvii year old married male
to cede victory
to the grim reaper, who would vie
as winner de jure
to this common fellow invoking libretto
ohm resistant understudy waste not want not
allowing, enabling and providing relief,
without successful defecation
despite the oppressive urge to bolster this uriah
heap of balled up and tuckered i.e. pooped out
five foot and ten inches of lovely bones
thence mouthing retraction
of former thought to cease existing,
though a non-bull lever
in any power broker qua mankind
relief at long last
provided posterior answered prayer
yet, this scrivener scrutinizes
his recurring pain in the *** jagged torture
and asks
a rhetorical one word question "WHY"?
Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 3:13 PM UTC
Traveled in a world of dreams
The things I've encountered are like gems
They've opened my eyes in a level
That what I'm seeing is so surreal
Sometimes in this existence I come to think
"Why some things in life disappear in a blink?"
I learned that every thing has its worth
I'll just live life because it's short
Living today, and not knowing where to go
I just knew I was still a child a long time ago
Looking back to the mess that I've been
It just takes me back to the places I've seen
I don't know where and when I'll go
I'll just surrender everything unto Him
To make everything perfect as it seem
I'll just look for a place to go.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 11:22 PM UTC