"brah" poems
wub Wub wUb Wub wub
dubstep bass drops! shit's dank brah
wUb wub Wub wub wUb
Dec 6, 2011
Dec 6, 2011 at 12:44 PM UTC
even teddy said i got the sickest tricks brah.
like my abilities source from some kinda legendary liquid
/ praise the lord /
monster energy should sponsor me.
a kickflip over the king’s *** hole
& a halfcab for the looky-loos.
i feel so tall when i climb that heap of asphalt trimmings
& see clear from the water tower to the bluffs.
gimme a good day, any day at the bluffs,
bottlerockets & girly birds.
her body brings a swarm of worms.
decomp,
said the f.b.i. men one by one with tweezers.
not quite the homecoming queen, still
wrapped in plastic.
look up.
see that great mess of wires, nest of powerlines and owl bones?
it crackles and croons its electro-spectral purr
all night and day.
new neck tat &
cody spends his paycheck on a crossbow.
we target practice on a bull skull.
wet cigarettes and turpentine-soaked socks for a good huff
in the dry of the roofline as it dumps.
there’s that little boy in a ghost mask again, tap-dancing
in puddles below the streetlamp,
& oversized shoes.
his grandmoms always be watchin’ from the window.
[whispers] she’s teaching him magic.
lucky unit 19: where our young dead damsel once dolled
herself up, you see
men and headlights would roll thru thrice nightly,
maybe more.
& i remember her punch red lips &
big whicker hat; while she weeded and watered her garden of begonias.
the sheriff’s deputy, hart? hicks? hogan? well he loved her a bunch.
stole her clothes in the middle of the night,
& sat beside the river sobbing into clumped fists
of bra and blouse.
i bought ******* from that guy once or twice.
harold? howard?
guess who showed his face today?
josiah, from unit 08.
since the incident with molly’s beagle, he’s been rarely seen.
took a bee line straight for the mailbox.
a package. a prize. a decoder ring/secret map sweepstakes
to be seen and deciphered.
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 1:44 AM UTC
Dank memes comfort me
MLG Four Twenty brah
It's Snowing on Mt. Fuji
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 10:15 AM UTC
The Kuwait Warriors are in my Jeans
My new favorite cartoon
Saturday mornings, sugar cereal, spoons
I use force to deal with the mentally ill
Prison gauge my earrings, brah
Psychiatric hospitals for playtime with myself
I can ********** to hippopotamus
Look to me like I’m amazing
I’ll be a living god
Not really, more flu shots
Put them in my eye
Sky for my eye and flanksteak for my heart
Give me all the Bacon and Eggs you have
I call my mustache the crop duster
Cuz I’m always cleaning bush with it
Blow a load
Of cash
On my body shots
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
Not a single **** was found,
or given on that day,
but when the earth had circled round,
the ***** came out to play.
It's cool it's cool she used to say,
Don't worry brah it's chill,
but venom dripped with cool disdain
from words she used to ****
She smashed and crashed and cursed and cried,
All through our house of glass,
And when the dust had settled down,
I tossed her on her ***
And now she wanders, so alone,
and now I'm free to live
You've made your bed, I laugh aloud,
*I've no ***** left to give.*
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 10:22 PM UTC
I'm not in the hospital, hit by a car
I know I'm not online as much; I'm not far
from finally finishing out my degree!
Ten days til a Bachelor of PSYCHOLOGY!
Though yes, sad to say, the mishap from last night
Proved unsalvageable what took me all day to write.
But after the panic subsided, in spite
Of the loss I decided to invite
a CAN-DO mantra, that today still recite:
*"Citing every source
providing claims; unless, of course,
the statements you express
are YOURS. Original. Then, yes."*
Would be no need to cite,
but I digress; I still endorse
vehemently: just reinforce
Pre-existing bodies,
empiric and peer-reviewed,
Must become one with your own body,
long before you can conclude
Much of anything; that, at best,
Could be considered misconstrued.
Which I reckon may elicit a subjectively quite rude
Swing at a pitch from your perspective you thought beckoned attitude
So rather than succumbing, and becoming quite contrite,
Just cite every sentence as though you know of no greater delight
AAAAAND
For the friends and acquaintances from on-the-line:
Out among ye mulls around an enemy of thine.
And by proxy, or vis-a-vis? Uh, nemesis of mine?
Either way, it's a PHONEY! I promise I'm fine!
I wasn't mowed down while crossing a street
By a drunk driver; don't buy into this deceit!
When the hell have you known of me to be on the loose,
And outdoors by a street, with no **** good excuse!
Nah, brah; didn't get rek't, not in the ICU,
Anything 80_hospital says isn't true.
It's hard to imagine why someone would do
Such a thing, and hard to try and imagine who...
Nevertheless: til the mocking bird is absconding
Believe none are who they claim if they're responding
With something extreme, but failing to show face
And put shoe on head or something else, just in case
That for reasons beyond rational ways of thought,
Someone's chosen to wreak havoc on the distraught
At least until that jacka$$ sh!# f#@%er gets caught,
Just, my two cents? If they say "no I swear," they're not.
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 4:07 PM UTC
Does your day feel like blah, blah, blah?
Sifting through your emotions like
What the hell, brah.
I know, its a Monday, its raining, your kids are sick, and you got a migraine, plus your partner has been a pain.
You forgot to bring your lunch to work, left your wallet or purse on the dresser, and you have to work late.
You feel like, come on life, cut me a break.
Oh by the way!!
The mortage is due, your car is on empty, and the laundry is a plenty.
All of this in the first 15 minutes of the day.. then you scream "no effing way"
But wait!!
STOP AND TAKE A DEEP BREATH
For a quick minute,
You close your eyes
The rain stops pouring
and the puddles are dry
The radio is playing your favorite tune,
you turn up the sound, it
changes your mood
Oh, What a day it was,
cruising right bye,
It started with a mess
and ended with a sigh.
Enjoy each day,
Take a minute or a few
Relax and breathe
and you do you
Sep 25, 2024
Sep 25, 2024 at 8:41 PM UTC
"all you're left with in the end are regrets, brah."
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 4:53 AM UTC
come in late, the band's already setting up,
On a hot night in New Orleans,
furniture murmurs along grainy floors,
sounding too heavy to make it off the ground
-the night has that feel-
light hangs ***** in the air.
I could stick around for the show,
but you're upstairs.
through the floor - we feel it - we hear it-
those first few notes-erratic-blasting
-a few too sharp, you might wince,
but each note tunes a little tighter,
until they all cut us free.
On hot night in New Orleans,
we can only move in music,
my body against your body like a drum,
Bah-dum, bah-dum;
every gasp, a cymbal crash,
interrupted by my tongue,
Tis-ah, tis-ah;
the brass follows in, feeling their way,
Brah-dah-dah, brah-dah-dah,
slightly rough at first,
but then, they find their grasp,
squeezing the keys-pressing hard on the valves-pumping the slide,
Bah-dum-brah--dah-tis-ah-dah;
now the night is alive,
you can feel the strings coming,
Dee-dah-doh-dah-dum-dum;
and we're dancing as nimbly as the keys until the band packs up.
On a hot night in New Orleans
we're in love.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
Dropping crops in the hottest bus stops riding in a drop top actin like I’m the Rock
White skin shinning at the shin dig with my dawg Jim, I’m grinning cause I’m winning
and my life is just beginning. Don’t let the grey hair fool ya, I be a cool brah with a tool kit
fix your drain pipe in the rain won’t complain, **** I don’t even need paid. sound insane?
Then run away, but if you stay you just may see the day when money fades away
Replaced with face to face interpersonal rela –tionships… spinach dip? Kung-Foo grip…
Please don’t trip cause I’m I be ripped like Snoop in the ‘09 coup de ville, I still drive an old ride
But its paid off and is environmentally soft, I mean it don’t pollute unless I have my boot
and sweet vermouth… that ain’t the truth I was a drinking youth left that **** back at the booth
now I only smoke on the herb and swerve through the herd not a star wars nerd but I no like the beep
beep beep, **** ain’t cheap gotta work too reap the benefits of this nation rise above your station
and start with contemplation, make a plan and take a stand be the man like the marvel cat Stan
see that’s a little nerdy but we all have those traits I just keep mine at bay saying praying is gay
middle finger swinging both this and that a-way. Truly do not give one **** bout your luck
of the rims on your truck, more impressed with duck eggs and the ruckus made when a barn gets raised
like I’m an Amish Bruce Wayne. Getting paid in meager wages still rocking a pager never wager on sport
teams and smudge with white sage.
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 4:23 PM UTC
when i had
long hair
surfer they assumed.
brah.
with dread locks
for five years
i was rasta-farian.
mon.
volkswagen bus
stickers = one love
they never really knew
who i was.
a businessman
making millions
on their ignorance.
cha-ching.
in this capitalist-
driven dwelling
i am a human
being.
i’m a bruised banana.
a used napkin. as
raw and real as it gets.
squished.
and ripped.
but that still
shouldn’t
matter
because
it’s never
better to cast
upon us any kind of
judgements.
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 3:28 PM UTC
draw crow draw raven blackbird fly o yassss
bro brow blow brah still high b'y
time to spit the real maritime flow
so tired miss the ocean yea
central central city
livin' so-so
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 10:13 PM UTC
All of myself
That I attempt to collect
I'm left with whats only me
Bare.
In this moment I exist only for you
there are things that i love
and i think those things
are you
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 2:33 AM UTC
There in your eyes,
Is a reflection of me.
And you stare at skies
Like your ma did the sea.
And you tell stories like nana
Without the pauses.
And cringe like my brah
When I clean your bruises.
You laugh like a man
And you smile like my dad.
I don't understand
How all they had,
Got into a heart
As small as yours ,
And still makes me start
Just because,
You have a spark.
That lights the dark
And reminds my heart
Of a work of art.
Red splashes and dark
Finger marks
Of someone
More than anyone,
More than you and I
More than this love of mine.
This poem leaves me torn.
Because I'm your father.
But you haven't been born.
But I'm full of fear.
That you'll never see my reflection
In your eyes.
So here's my reflection
On your life.
So you'll understand.
Before your life began.
I saw your reflection.
I saw your perfection.
And loved everything about you.
Through our fathers' eyes I know you'll know it's true.
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 11:10 AM UTC