"bmws" poems
a ****** of crows gathers
over Hamburg, carrion carrying on
with business as usual.
feeding on the festered flesh
of a gentrified populace.
in private jets coughing carbon
they fly from the west on turbine wings,
engines screaming as they dive towards a nation
secured by razor-wound walls
and barb-wire borders.
they pitched a battle in Germany,
convinced that austerity
would ******* the resistance
and give justification to premeditated violence.
but the tables have turned on the thieves again.
we are the end result of your failed policies,
globalization has destroyed our homes.
if your cabal rallies like a kettle of vultures,
you will do so behind closed doors,
cowering in your fortress' halls.
you shall not pass. watch as the power shifts
like the melting gears of torched BMWs.
we will tear the vestiges of your authority down.
we will black out your surveillance cameras,
smash your windows, and block your limos. no pasaran.
flee, while you can still run. this city belongs
to the wild ones, a black bloc, thousands strong,
dancing amidst the tear gas, tossing molotovs.
marching to liberty's sturdy drum,
equal in our solidarity song.
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 12:14 PM UTC
All the pretty birds
perched on leafy branches
chirp to the waking morning,
“I am here. Where are you?
I am here. Where are you?
I am here. Where are you?
I am here. Where are you?”
And the puppy dogs
all starve for something
While the cats of fortune
laze about the alleyways.
But the pretty birds
all the morning long,
“I am here. Where are you?”
The tardy businessmen
and their non-fat lattes
squirm in BMWs,
Honking at traffic
with the most colorful swears,
“I am here! I am here!
I am here! I am mad! I am here!”
High-octane housewives
power walk the parks,
Gabbing. And the old folks
tossing breadcrumbs to the ducks,
Mumble to long gone loved ones,
“Where are you? Where are you?
Where am I? Where are you?”
But those ****** birds-
Those pretty, ****** little birds-
They have it figured out.
They know the secrets
to Happiness:
‘I am here.
Where are you?’
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 4:27 AM UTC
Back by popular demand
being a ***** persisted.
I'm sick of yuppies in BMWs
that glitter the highway like cheap tinsel
and ruin my view of sunset on Sunset Blvd.
On top of that,
gift cards mixed up with chopped up plastic credit
rattle at the insides of my plump little belly,
and I don’t think its going anywhere.
*Although, I'm getting nauseous,
I wont ***** until the fat lady sings.
And if that's not long enough for you then,
I'll just see you in hell.*
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 2:50 PM UTC
Oh oh come friends. To the river we go
I don't know what situations led to us to come to this magical places.
And I don't know what led me to the i75 alone behind a steering wheel
Oh oh come friends to the river we go
I'm not good at phone calls
But curse my name if I wasn't driving and listen to you talk about your day to your friends mom through satellites.
Oh oh come friends. To the river we go
We have disconnected the call and I'm still thinking of the past days I've listened to you.
I'm stuck thinking what if this is a friends fling like with your friends and your friends friends.
And I think what if this is another excuse to love my self a little more
I think what if this an excuse to drown someone out
I think what if I hurt myself on another person
I think what if you
And I smile
That's all it took.
Was the mere thought of awkwardly reaching for you hand
And I smiled.
Oh oh come friends. to the river we go
There is a traffic jam and I am in the fast lane blaring don't fear the reaper
We are merging lanes
To the right and I am stuck in thought
We are merging lanes
And to the middle I am lighting a cigarette
We are merging
And to the right I am
BAM !
Oh oh come friends to the river we go.
There was no collusion
Just the sound of an 80 thousand dollar bmws horn
A sight I would have been jealous of before
But on this night I don't need a car to smile
On this night I don't need fancy things
On this night I just need you
Oh oh come friends. To the river we go.
I'm passing the sign for the Ronald Reagan highway
And 65 miles per hour has never felt so fast
I want to talk to you but I can hear your voice scolding me for looking at my phone while on the road.
But I smile
I can hear your voice
I can feel you there next to me
And I'm still happy at the mere thought of you
Oh oh come friends to the river we go
With you I don't need luck
We can split a thousand poles
We can laugh at the thought of a Buddha belly
We can step on 4 leaf clovers
We can walk under ladders because your hand will be in mine and that is the only luck I need
Oh oh come friends to the river we go.
The sight of this river under me is almost as beautiful as you.
Sitting on the bank watching my new friends passionately Kiss while standing on the ruins of a smoldering burnt American flag with jemi Hendrix playing is almost as infinite as you
But nothing will make me happier then being with you.
Oh oh come friends. To the river we go
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 1:49 PM UTC
Mile after mile
the endless motorway
spews out its metal contortions
hum your V6 engine
rock with impatience
under branded lime-green
sun strip protectors
brimming with breeders
of brooding black BMWs
7-seater convertible prowess
gleaming off-roaders
go faster striped boy-racers
silver slick steamroller Range Rovers
revving executive supremacy
nestled annoyingly
behind a Grand Jeep Cherokee
all stop in motion
by a pedestrian button
for a little old lady
with shopping,
And me.
So many people
in so many cars
gas guzzling
un-muzzled bulldogs
drooling to be first
the excesses of acceleration
the freedom to roam
to gloat or to garner
well you can all stay in line
with the press of a button
and a finger like mine
Moses in green spandex
parts the Metal Sea
for a little old lady
with shopping,
And me.
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 11:15 AM UTC
Spring sweeps over Canton
in slow moving waves of sun-
branches on the few carefully
planted trees begin to bud
beautiful white petals,
clean and spotless against
dirt tinted brick
and unwashed windows,
shedding blankets of soft
confetti on hybrid cars
and BMWs crowded into
spots on the street sides.
The warm weather brings bees,
mosquitoes, and morning joggers
who smile at each other as they pass,
their dogs running beside them.
They stop to smell
the patches of weeds that have
sneaked between cement panels
on the sidewalk, but are quickly
****** ahead as their owners’
heart rates begin to fall.
The jogging trail is tracked
in old houses ******
over like aging women.
They soak up the warmth
like a sponge, their seventy
year old walls continuing to peel
old asbestos speckled paint
beneath brand new wall paper
and paneling.
Bankers and law students,
doctors and nurses,
barflies and models
hunt them like injured
pray on a mountain top-
so few to feed on
that when one emerges,
hundreds dive for the ****
but only the ones with the
fattest wallets win,
and can sink their teeth into
the tender taste of
prime real estate,
a thin slice of Hip in
this burgeoning yuppie haven.
Jul 13, 2010
Jul 13, 2010 at 9:39 AM UTC
You felt like you're the best with BMWs and Lambos
On top of millions
But i stare into her eyes
And i see a paradise that I've never seen before
There's much more to life than money
And they can say there's much more to life than her
But I'll choose to ignore them
In my eyes, they're wrong
Now i know my fires have stagnated for so long
Each and every song i listen to
Keeps me sane when the outside world
Is losing their bolts over simpleton issues
Something far less complicated than me
I never knew she could grasp me mentally like this
But I'm okay with it honestly
God made it this way for a reason
To go against it is emotional treason
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 6:06 PM UTC
8/8/16
i thought i lost this at the psych unit
and now i wear it so i don't forget where i'm going and why i'm going there
so i'm not strung along the day-to-day of the metro suburbs in the nation's capital
where it's all hustle, bustle, or get out of my way
red line of blue line? silver or green?
somewhere in the masses
i am part of the chaos blurring past corporal company buildings and stockholders
the metallic blue nissan in a sea of teslas, porsches, BMWs
i won't throw around the cliché to "grow where i'm planted" but supposedly this is where i'm supposed to be for now
with no one left to impress but a fantasy
it's crazy what our minds will entertain
a year ago i was wandering on a godforsaken island and now i waste the days folding silverware
it's okay
and so am i
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 3:24 PM UTC
I've found a place you can't touch
a place where you're hidden,
tucked away
You're not even up yet
so you barely even exist
I'm blowing smoke out my driver's side window
the extravagant houses flying past
their enormous trees and driveways
glowing in the sun's rays
No one is on the street
not even the BMWs and Mercedes
just me
with my music blasting
and the gardners
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 4:52 PM UTC
Last night
I watched a guy
Play a Perfect Dark Mod
With Golden Eye levels
He created simulations
To play against
In a free for all
Today I watched
A Halo 3 AI battle
Spartans vs Elites
One absurd event
Leads to another
I workout
But I don't get
Big muscles
I came into
My fleshlight yesterday
Human life is sad
Stupid
Oh there is the paper there
Health care costs
To rise in 2017
Everything costs
And i have no money
Who cares?
Why do we need
Two expensive BMWs?
I don't know
Money is power
And I'm paid
By the hour
The expression
On my face
Appears quite dour
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 3:48 PM UTC