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"bronx" poems
The Jewish brothers in Defiance were definitely tough. One wanted to **** many Germans, the other to save many Jews. The German soldiers were expendable, unmarried, unremarkable. Each little death was very little, a little spittle in a big wind. Fast forward to my friend's son's bar mitzvah or daughter's coming of age ceremony. Food is abundant, the music frenetic, the rabbi paid. Gifts generous but not obvious. Wealth does not obviate death and we know it. Here too we have natural leaders. Youth basketball coaches, school principals and, again, interpreters of prayers. When violence comes to the neighborhood they are who we'll first look to for governance and guns. Unless have you read The Admirable       Crichton? Boredom, boredom conflated with loneliness, may be a sign of good luck. To live a good length or light year away from man's bad breath, allergenic perfumes, sickening flatulence and shed hair. But you are drawn back into the debate about perfection by your own       ******** While teaching at the old city jail I have learned this: only meditation upon the periodic table can save your soul. From itself. Imagining the world without the self will make you whole. What else is there to say. Do less until one thing's done well. After the war the brothers started a small trucking company in the Bronx. Grateful for such peace, the accounting was relaxing. They thought back to how they met their wives, naked before the bombs and bullets. How they lost and found themselves in       what happened.
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
Defiance
The Jewish brothers in Defiance were definitely tough. One wanted to **** many Germans, the other to save many Jews. The German soldiers were expendable, unmarried, unremarkable. Each little death was very little, a little spittle in a big wind. Fast forward to my friend's son's bar mitzvah or daughter's coming of age ceremony. Food is abundant, the music frenetic, the rabbi paid. Gifts generous but not obvious. Wealth does not obviate death and we know it. Here too we have natural leaders. Youth basketball coaches, school principals and, again, interpreters of prayers. When violence comes to the neighborhood they are who we'll first look to for governance and guns. Unless have you read The Admirable       Crichton? Boredom, boredom conflated with loneliness, may be a sign of good luck. To live a good length or light year away from man's bad breath, allergenic perfumes, sickening flatulence and shed hair. But you are drawn back into the debate about perfection by your own       ******** While teaching at the old city jail I have learned this: only meditation upon the periodic table can save your soul. From itself. Imagining the world without the self will make you whole. What else is there to say. Do less until one thing's done well. After the war the brothers started a small trucking company in the Bronx. Grateful for such peace, the accounting was relaxing. They thought back to how they met their wives, naked before the bombs and bullets. How they lost and found themselves in       what happened.
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27
“where time is the fly and age the fisher of men” <> *”until I fell forward into fall where time is the fly and age the fisher of men, then when winter begins all will be forgotten, where time is the fly and age the fisher of men”* excerpt from “The Fall” by Rick Richardson <> that words from a different ionic state, jump as embodied ions from screen to the throat, evicting a guttural current of exclamation, you believe even with the half-heartedly palpitations from  remainder of my damaged pumping heart, that these words were always intended, just for me… boy and old man coexist, the pottage of memories stirred, and the time is fly, and I drown in the miracle of greenest grass of Yankee Stadium at age eight, oasis, heaven, a child reborn in a sea of Bronx concrete, and the swallowing up of my boyhood is forever marked henceforth, the hook has caught me, and I am of the age once and forever not a fisherman, but a fisher of men’s souls, mine own is my best bait, hooked line and sinker, and wisdom and words elude and delude always,   like summer is perpetual and aging a construct, time does not fly, but slowly laps and waves eroding our myths and ourselves upon a continuum with no ends ~postscript~ <> *yet I believe, in miracles of fish and loaves, and that our individual continuums will exist beyond the artifice of constraints of mortal time and that poems are the forever chemicals within our bloodstreams, even when our blood no longer spills* yet I believe!
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Sep 6, 2023
Sep 6, 2023 at 7:57 AM UTC
“where time is the fly and age the fisher of men“
“where time is the fly and age the fisher of men” <> *”until I fell forward into fall where time is the fly and age the fisher of men, then when winter begins all will be forgotten, where time is the fly and age the fisher of men”* excerpt from “The Fall” by Rick Richardson <> that words from a different ionic state, jump as embodied ions from screen to the throat, evicting a guttural current of exclamation, you believe even with the half-heartedly palpitations from  remainder of my damaged pumping heart, that these words were always intended, just for me… boy and old man coexist, the pottage of memories stirred, and the time is fly, and I drown in the miracle of greenest grass of Yankee Stadium at age eight, oasis, heaven, a child reborn in a sea of Bronx concrete, and the swallowing up of my boyhood is forever marked henceforth, the hook has caught me, and I am of the age once and forever not a fisherman, but a fisher of men’s souls, mine own is my best bait, hooked line and sinker, and wisdom and words elude and delude always,   like summer is perpetual and aging a construct, time does not fly, but slowly laps and waves eroding our myths and ourselves upon a continuum with no ends ~postscript~ <> *yet I believe, in miracles of fish and loaves, and that our individual continuums will exist beyond the artifice of constraints of mortal time and that poems are the forever chemicals within our bloodstreams, even when our blood no longer spills* yet I believe!
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41
Lily Kesha Gump Sittin' on the curb of Bronx and Main Street How I wish I could wrap my arms around you Sweet little lady, lookin’ grown with a picture of her mama’s stare frozen on her face Wrists slung through the spaces of her thighs, waiting for a daydream And she sees me as I’m twirling by in my ruby reds and thigh high leather grace There you go darlin, She says to me   Scoring on my indigo smile She bites men to sleep With the crevices of her curves As her voice weakens wicked she pulls me out of my gloom There you go darlin, She says to me With a time bomb ticking On my pain pain pain And the pen is in my hand Before she even leaves my sight I love this city I love these women I love their shoes I love their smiles Cheeky little laughs   Someone once recommended When I was dancing under the shades of a neon lamp   From Homeless to Harvard by a woman named Liz or Marie Or maybe I read the title off of a screen when I walking with Maryanne on north Peachtree street And I remember Lily Kesha Gump How I wish I could wrap my arms around you And give you the life some white woman who doesn’t even know you Thinks you desire.
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Dec 17, 2020
Dec 17, 2020 at 12:15 PM UTC
Sympathy
Against too many writers of science fiction Why did you lure us on like this, Light-year on light-year, through the abyss, Building (as though we cared for size!) Empires that cover galaxies If at the journey's end we find The same old stuff we left behind, Well-worn Tellurian stories of Crooks, spies, conspirators, or love, Whose setting might as well have been The Bronx, Montmartre, or Bedinal Green? Why should I leave this green-floored cell, Roofed with blue air, in which we dwell, Unless, outside its guarded gates, Long, long desired, the Unearthly waits Strangeness that moves us more than fear, Beauty that stabs with tingling spear, Or Wonder, laying on one's heart That finger-tip at which we start As if some thought too swift and shy For reason's grasp had just gone by?
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4.5k
An Expostulation
There is a dragon in my closet He has dark brown eyes Pale skin A south Bronx accent and an affinity for breathing fire Some people have skeletons I have a dragon who has lived off of my insecurities, My pain So he's nice and fat... When I was alone His shadow loomed underneath the closet door I pretended to not see it His footsteps made the whole house shake But I pretended not to hear it Now I lay in bed at night with the one I love And can no longer ignore it Time to be my own knight in shining armor Open the closet door and the slay the dragon He may be a dragon That burns up all that is in his path But I am a phoenix Who rises from his destruction to become even stronger than before.                                                          I'm going to kick his ***
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Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 9:39 PM UTC
There's a Dragon in My Closet
Come May. Come what may. The most significant thing today first Monday in May my wife six months pregnant with twins says she’s scared what we’re getting ourselves into. Like the time I moved into an apartment uptown I mean way uptown, Bronx uptown, uptown where I’d never been bomba echoing in the airshaft painted the walls banana yellow and moved out the next day. Lost the deposit. A few months later moved back to the same neighborhood, stayed a decade. I’m not—scared, that is—but they’re not kicking my insides out, either.
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Sep 13, 2022
Sep 13, 2022 at 7:24 AM UTC
Come What May
Queens is home the Bronx is school and the city is where I go to die, I declared to my friends. There’s more to lose than just your wallet and virginity in that city, it’s a world where hot, tight, smelly underground ******** beat faster than human hearts, and truer than true love.
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Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 12:37 AM UTC
on staying here
We all want someone to hold whilst the music plays but this is a delayed reaction to teenage hormones, you're clutching to not-a-lot-of-nothings, smart jeans and smart cologne, a stolen ring from your step-father's collection tidied away, deep, in a box under bed sheets in that drawer. Your mum says the right one will come 'round soon enough, but so far the results of dressing differently have resulted in women speaking like spray from under a van: rainwater white noise and not a lot else; though you're still searching, if not for you, for your mother instead, elderly and re-married: some else's burden, another husband to carry. Carry out of the bottom of drunken wine glasses and into clear meadows on weekly walks where discussions take place, peace treaty talks about holidays in the Mediterranean, upon balcony ledges they'll embrace, learn about fading stars, the history behind buildings visit local bars to drink sober cocktails conjured up in off-the-web smoothie makers bought with the ambition to make a living and help the community out. If not now then when, your **** shouts hiding beneath moneyed material cut in sweat shops, washed in sweat heaps, delivered by the sweaty mail man of the Bronx, will women love me you'll say, will women want a house with me, stay the night under reclaimed, bought from thrift shop, lights and kiss until mornings turn into weeks, those weeks into new jobs and before you know it, retirement plots in allotments off Broadway?
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Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 7:49 AM UTC
Bronx & Broadway
We all want someone to hold whilst the music plays but this is a delayed reaction to teenage hormones, you're clutching to not-a-lot-of-nothings, smart jeans and smart cologne, a stolen ring from your step-father's collection tidied away, deep, in a box under bed sheets in that drawer. Your mum says the right one will come 'round soon enough, but so far the results of dressing differently have resulted in women speaking like spray from under a van: rainwater white noise and not a lot else; though you're still searching, if not for you, for your mother instead, elderly and re-married: some else's burden, another husband to carry. Carry out of the bottom of drunken wine glasses and into clear meadows on weekly walks where discussions take place, peace treaty talks about holidays in the Mediterranean, upon balcony ledges they'll embrace, learn about fading stars, the history behind buildings visit local bars to drink sober cocktails conjured up in off-the-web smoothie makers bought with the ambition to make a living and help the community out. If not now then when, your **** shouts hiding beneath moneyed material cut in sweat shops, washed in sweat heaps, delivered by the sweaty mail man of the Bronx, will women love me you'll say, will women want a house with me, stay the night under reclaimed, bought from thrift shop, lights and kiss until mornings turn into weeks, those weeks into new jobs and before you know it, retirement plots in allotments off Broadway?
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35
Tiger land we got the virus You thought animals couldn’t get it But a tiger got it and He was from the Bronx zoo in New York He got it from a zookeeper Really that it is bad That this tiger got the virus We should watch out for his class That this tiger could do more than Bite if you annoy To every girl and boy He could give the virus to everybody around And the tiger doesn’t have the knowledge to wash his hands Like the humans do But this tiger can spread the virus To everybody here If they touch body, nose and ear Tigers can spread this virus So how are we going to Keep this tiger in isolation He won’t perform on social media Cause he is a cute tiger And god knows if a tiger could get it He could escape and do more than Bite our *** to death He could spread the virus for our deaths I rhymed death with deaths Who cares because a tiger has the virus And hopefully they can keep this tiger Safe and in quarantined forever and ever Orange and black Keep this tiger safe Oh yeah
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Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 9:43 PM UTC
a tiger got the coronavirus in the bronx
Some people see the potential in you And some don't Many who see it are jealous And want to destroy it or steal it for themselves Even though they can't have it Because it's not meant for them Some people have nothing financial or Little material things to give you But they got your back for real no matter what They put their time, energy, respect and faith in you Because they love you and see the greatness in you Before you even knew you had self-worth Or while you were at rock bottom And some are just faking the funk Pretending like they like/love you They’ve been acting like something that they’re not for so long That they no longer care about knowing who they really are That fake smile never changes like the joker from Batman Just leave those people alone and let that stuff be about them        I don't believe in a having a big homie I Trust in a God, or a mentor And I don’t care about proving How black I am, how hood I am, or how tough I am By sagging my pants, wearing a red or blue bandana on my head, hands, or in my back pocket I don’t want to carry a gun, knife or Talk trash when I know I can’t back up what I say, to protect myself I know what it’s like to run away from your pain, guilt and loneliness By covering it up with hate, *** relationships, **** hanging out gangbangers and having a bad attitude That’s in my past and I hated that person Now I’m about appreciating life and staying true to myself A professor once said in my philosophy class I don’t care if people think I am a good or bad person Because people are always Changing their opinions Based on how they feel or what they’re going through I once saw this quote in a movie A Bronx Tale “There is nothing worse than wasted talent”    Don’t waste your time on things that aren’t important to your life. By Shannon Pollard © Fall 2013
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Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 10:00 PM UTC
The Fork in the Middle of the Road
Some people see the potential in you And some don't Many who see it are jealous And want to destroy it or steal it for themselves Even though they can't have it Because it's not meant for them Some people have nothing financial or Little material things to give you But they got your back for real no matter what They put their time, energy, respect and faith in you Because they love you and see the greatness in you Before you even knew you had self-worth Or while you were at rock bottom And some are just faking the funk Pretending like they like/love you They’ve been acting like something that they’re not for so long That they no longer care about knowing who they really are That fake smile never changes like the joker from Batman Just leave those people alone and let that stuff be about them        I don't believe in a having a big homie I Trust in a God, or a mentor And I don’t care about proving How black I am, how hood I am, or how tough I am By sagging my pants, wearing a red or blue bandana on my head, hands, or in my back pocket I don’t want to carry a gun, knife or Talk trash when I know I can’t back up what I say, to protect myself I know what it’s like to run away from your pain, guilt and loneliness By covering it up with hate, *** relationships, **** hanging out gangbangers and having a bad attitude That’s in my past and I hated that person Now I’m about appreciating life and staying true to myself A professor once said in my philosophy class I don’t care if people think I am a good or bad person Because people are always Changing their opinions Based on how they feel or what they’re going through I once saw this quote in a movie A Bronx Tale “There is nothing worse than wasted talent”    Don’t waste your time on things that aren’t important to your life. By Shannon Pollard © Fall 2013
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40
Crazy how the new got old so quick Drug dealing is the new entrepreneurship Stripping is the new night shift **** financial aid **** Since they finish college but continue dancing On that ***** pole **** Gay is the new straight Killer cops are the new superman And cop killers the new batman Since when have black lives matter That's old news **** Social media fame is the new news feed And gangster rap beef is the new comedy Kevin Heart is the new Bill without the pill Obama is the new Kennedy not John but Robert Hillary will be the new President But that's just my prediction Even-though 49 percent of me believes a Republican is winning this election Since they are the new donkeys and Democrats the new elephant Orange is the new black? .... wait... Orange is the new black? That's a thing of the past orange been the color for Blacks Poets are the new rappers Rappers are the new fathers **** is the new medicine No need for doctors and nurses Money is the new God Gold chains are the new nooses Since every ***** want one D'usse is the new Hennessey no need for a chase So much new in the world but I'm still the same ol' me Cole is the new Nas Kendrick is the new Em "Drake is the new great Philosopher" But that is in the words of the Bronx borough president Since he is the new ***** of politics But there's only still one Jay-z Ball is the new life and hoes are the new wife's Snitches are the new thugs K2 is the new **** Heroine the new ******* Pills the new crack So much new in the world and I'm still the same ol' me Black will be the new white Peace will be the new war But those are just my predictions Since we lost our self-identity through the modern age of seasoning So much new in the world as I predict I'll stay the same While the environment adapts to me never the other way around I'll forever be me And these voices in my head are just the curse of the talented
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Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 7:30 AM UTC
Same ol' me
Crazy how the new got old so quick Drug dealing is the new entrepreneurship Stripping is the new night shift **** financial aid **** Since they finish college but continue dancing On that ***** pole **** Gay is the new straight Killer cops are the new superman And cop killers the new batman Since when have black lives matter That's old news **** Social media fame is the new news feed And gangster rap beef is the new comedy Kevin Heart is the new Bill without the pill Obama is the new Kennedy not John but Robert Hillary will be the new President But that's just my prediction Even-though 49 percent of me believes a Republican is winning this election Since they are the new donkeys and Democrats the new elephant Orange is the new black? .... wait... Orange is the new black? That's a thing of the past orange been the color for Blacks Poets are the new rappers Rappers are the new fathers **** is the new medicine No need for doctors and nurses Money is the new God Gold chains are the new nooses Since every ***** want one D'usse is the new Hennessey no need for a chase So much new in the world but I'm still the same ol' me Cole is the new Nas Kendrick is the new Em "Drake is the new great Philosopher" But that is in the words of the Bronx borough president Since he is the new ***** of politics But there's only still one Jay-z Ball is the new life and hoes are the new wife's Snitches are the new thugs K2 is the new **** Heroine the new ******* Pills the new crack So much new in the world and I'm still the same ol' me Black will be the new white Peace will be the new war But those are just my predictions Since we lost our self-identity through the modern age of seasoning So much new in the world as I predict I'll stay the same While the environment adapts to me never the other way around I'll forever be me And these voices in my head are just the curse of the talented
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56
I was taken by surprise when her Dad handed me the keys.. “I have a meeting in the City, Could your drive her to school for me” That day I had not thought to drive, My own “K” car was in the shop. I was having the rear brakes replaced because sometimes I like to stop. My car was an econobox but for my purpose fine. His car was a Red Firebird- Top down, top of the line. The day was clear and drenched with sun- The perfect top down day. We waved goodbye as Barb and I pulled out and on our way. We heard something from Stravinsky On her father’s Classics station As we drove across the Bridge to her college destination. The Cross Bronx, unexpectedly, was light of cars that day. Traffic on the Bronx River seemed to yield us right of way. I pulled in near Bathgate Avenue And gave my girl a kiss. I would have liked to linger But that final she couldn’t miss. The engine gave a gentle purr on my return trip down. I met up with her father And he dropped me off back home. With both hands in my pockets, I watched as he drove off. The car would prove a classic, The girl proved, alas, aloof.
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Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 10:51 PM UTC
The Firebird
There's something crazy going on these days Down at the city zoo The giraffes have joined the high society club While the monkies are getting tattoos The elephant's are packing up their trunks And moving to the Bronx With all the hippos on a diet In an effort to lose their junk The Lions have stopped lying The cheetahs have stopped cheating And as far as all their drinking They're both going to A.A. meetings The orangutans are the ones to blame For a pyramid scheme gone bad Left the zebras all in the red When they lost everything they had The crocodiles are out sunning themselves By the pool drinking Piña coladas While the mother snakes go on Maury To try and figure out who is the father Yes, things are a little crazy these days Down at the city zoo But if you were locked in a cage all day Wouldn't you go crazy too?
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Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 1:54 PM UTC
Crazy Zoo Daze
I. You can always tell the Virgins from the way they Glide—cerebral giddy with nectarfilled Hearts and earlobes full of Wax/ Wane moonshine turf if you’re not Dying for astronomers’ loves and what makes Ptolemy different from Claude is Given prove: Equal and opposite reaction. II. Shove knife down pork Wasn’t so hard, was it. III. TWO SOLIDS INTERSECT In a plane. In the bathroom, to be exact. What follows is not Essential to the proposition; Calculate the spatial (surface area, volume of cubicle, conclude insufficient is < where escape velocity is ) useless to resistance factor 7 [prepare for lift-off landing taxi To the Bronx of course where else would I Be on a night like this it’s raining in the parlour Wont you step outside? III. anemic & half- starved half- sandwich go on, have a bite. IV. in arm will undulate bloodcellspouroutcantstoptoowide are you just imagining this? What would they tell you in school blood is thicker than water i’m not sure they eat carnivores here. CARNIVAL festival of meat. Flesh LIVE trembling quiver SWIFT shoot through air DUCK dead swandive nosedive outplug BOOM go the couple in the cabin lavatory laboratory? Rats go bang in the night crash & burn debris over Detroit is our favorite way to die colorful isn’t it rainbow— brushfire— bruises and fire storms out and around the populace to decimate seems like mating by a factor of ten V; or. X^2+i(70x7)= aftermath: my ex squared with me seventy times seven equals in fortitude (labor-intensive) tea costs sixpence in dallas what about you so integral to my being that sometimes I wonder if you’re just imaginary or if what it takes to be transcendental is beyond what’s rational or even what’s real to me: eight is enough for the eggs.
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Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 7:53 PM UTC
Vestiges, XI.
I. You can always tell the Virgins from the way they Glide—cerebral giddy with nectarfilled Hearts and earlobes full of Wax/ Wane moonshine turf if you’re not Dying for astronomers’ loves and what makes Ptolemy different from Claude is Given prove: Equal and opposite reaction. II. Shove knife down pork Wasn’t so hard, was it. III. TWO SOLIDS INTERSECT In a plane. In the bathroom, to be exact. What follows is not Essential to the proposition; Calculate the spatial (surface area, volume of cubicle, conclude insufficient is < where escape velocity is ) useless to resistance factor 7 [prepare for lift-off landing taxi To the Bronx of course where else would I Be on a night like this it’s raining in the parlour Wont you step outside? III. anemic & half- starved half- sandwich go on, have a bite. IV. in arm will undulate bloodcellspouroutcantstoptoowide are you just imagining this? What would they tell you in school blood is thicker than water i’m not sure they eat carnivores here. CARNIVAL festival of meat. Flesh LIVE trembling quiver SWIFT shoot through air DUCK dead swandive nosedive outplug BOOM go the couple in the cabin lavatory laboratory? Rats go bang in the night crash & burn debris over Detroit is our favorite way to die colorful isn’t it rainbow— brushfire— bruises and fire storms out and around the populace to decimate seems like mating by a factor of ten V; or. X^2+i(70x7)= aftermath: my ex squared with me seventy times seven equals in fortitude (labor-intensive) tea costs sixpence in dallas what about you so integral to my being that sometimes I wonder if you’re just imaginary or if what it takes to be transcendental is beyond what’s rational or even what’s real to me: eight is enough for the eggs.
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76
Section 25, Lot 1115…Gate of Heaven Cemetery….Hawthorne New York Number 3 in your program, number 1 in your hearts. Gramps would tell me all the stories and what a big deal they made when he walked up to bat. Number 3..3..3, Babe..babe…babe…, Ruth..ruth..ruth!  Followed by the roar of loving fans! Today Babe, I’m leaving you a Sabretts hotdog & a fifth of Scotch. I know you’re out there cooling off under a shade tree with a cabbage leaf on your head. 1-2-3 who are rooting for? Well it ain’t those lousy Red Sox's! It’s the Babe doing the walk up to “Ain’t She Sweet, See her walking down the street." The cathedral of baseball, the Bronx Zoo, The House that Ruth built right there at 161st and River. You just can't beat the person who never gives up!
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Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 4:12 PM UTC
The Big Fella
A selection of limericks There was a young lass from the Bronx Whose ******* make fearful honks She sounds like a car When she puts on a bra And the geese gather round when she bonks ----------------- Father Alexander McMackett Ran a ruthless religious racket When taking collection He'd offer protection Salvation could cost you a packet ----------------- A carrot named Archibald Nation Had feathers in high numeration He was labelled as veg By a grocer called Reg With a dubious qualification ----------------- A sculptor named Arnold Duprees  Carved a **** plug from parmesan cheese He lamented his luck When it melted and stuck But he fired it out with a sneeze ----------------- Knights in the armour of old Have little to keep out the cold For they dress as the Scots In thier tenderest spots Which encourages rust and then mould ----------------- Oh ***** you make my knees quiver  You chemical lethargy giver You tickle my tongue And pickle my brain Then you jump up and down on my liver ----------------- A Fella named Ricky De Gaul Had seventeen ******* in all They called him De Chesty But with only one ***** It should have been Ricky De Ball
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Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 8:15 AM UTC
A Selection of Limericks
I grew up in the Bronx, rough neighborhood. Times were tough, my mom didn't know what to do. She worked long nights, all week as I struggled in school. I failed every class, didn't make it too far. Where'd I end up? Strippin' at some bar. Every night men would look and stare. I used my body for money, but nobody cared. Where'd it get me? What good did it do? But through all of my struggles, I made it out on top. I've made it, I've succeeded, I rose up from there. Now I'm a rapper, come on. Go ahead and stare.
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Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 12:45 PM UTC
I Wrote a "Cardi B" Song
There are no people around, only animals, popcorn on side- walks, empty paper cups, coke stains. The animals are in their cages, where they should be, not out and about on the town. Clowns are in the circus, the animals in their place, and I am alone at the Bronx Zoo, kicking peanut shells, waiting for Washington Irving to show up. TOD HOWARD HAWKS
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Jun 12, 2019
Jun 12, 2019 at 10:06 AM UTC
ALONE AT THE BRONX ZOO
I’m a shy yet outgoing introvert.   When it comes to getting attention, I will divert I love to give love and try not to hurt I sometimes feel **** and will attempt to flirt When you talk religion and spirituality, please keep all of those labels away from me Because I will whisper into the wind and through the trees as God’s omnipresence is surrounding me Being in nature invigorates and inspires me Viewing wildlife and feeling the cool country breeze The happy return of the flowers and the bees Love new beginnings and feeling free Adventure and travel runs through my veins By land, sky, and sea, I love all terrains Trying new things and experimenting keeps me sane Listening to all genres of music feeds my brain Bronx born and Detroit raised, I thrive on diversity Learning about culture, the arts, and our history are my life’s passions and bring inner harmony Oh well, that is enough about me . . .
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Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 1:23 PM UTC
Me
On a cold, grey Bronx September day, an old man stood on the Courthouse plaza. His palsied hand reached out to touch the monument to his life’s sole drama. He’d just turned nineteen when the A.E.F. had been ordered to assist the French. Near Chateau-Thierry He helped hold the bridge without the safety of a trench. “We Marines fought like devil Dogs” He whispered softly to the rain. “The Germans came, wave after wave, but only the stars and stripes remained.” “Paris was spared and the foe was impressed by our Marine’s defiant dogged defense.” “My best friends died, but I survived to keep them in remembrance.” “We stopped the Germans at the Marne.” He felt an old familiar pain. Some might say that the old man cried, but he would say it was just the rain.
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Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 11:20 AM UTC
The Turning point
There is a wave of basslines rotating and vibrating in the landscape, smoking vowels splashing and cracking in diamond depictions. Heartbeats thrum in dizzy formations, lost in the beat bopping and flow rocking. Heads spin in faraway galaxies, further than eternal Earth, seamless Saturn, flaming Mars. Secret stars burst with electrifying energy and trigger blazing consonants. Hips divide into multiple equations in a series of grinding rhythms.   Over the top sensations spiral high in the sky across the jazzy frame. Muscles popping, feet hopping, arms dropping in breaking beats, as sweet sistas and groovy fellas gyrate in timeless dimensions.
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Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 10:30 PM UTC
Hip Hopping Beats In The Bronx
glued to crushed velvet i think in hues of blue tonight and wonder what you see when you stare at your ceiling in the bronx is it waterlogged and cracking? or smooth and perfectly painted in eggshell white? or maybe it's stuccoed, or patterned, or hand painted with naked angels floating about? turn on your transformers and fire up the transporter i'm coming to lay side by side to see what it is you see when you tell me you're thinking of me
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Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 9:23 PM UTC
telephone wires
fingertips reach into burrows tonight, brooklyn and bronx, where i most wish i could lay these bones that wish to be buried count seconds, hold breaths, make wishes, then promises, to gods i don't believe exist, so that i may look into eyes that truly know what goes on behind mine fire off framed fragrances and feinding freight trains headed for longing, lust, and love in all of the ways that i could've sworn i left when the bed was still wet and my memories weren't those of a woman without remorse days spent looking 'round corners with mirrors, tales told   of creatures that turn liars into stone, step slowly, hold steady, fire quickly, and give always to the great unknown
0
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 12:18 AM UTC
medusa
I was captivated, Mesmerized by her beauty on this Bronx bound 5 train. I drowned in her green eyes and did not care to breathe. Her ***** blonde, bordering brunette hair waved perfectly. Everything about her was beautiful. To say I was nervous would be an understatement. I didn't dare to tell her how radiant she looked. Another missed connection on a subway line heading uptown. Hopefully I will see her at Wall Street again. It isn't likely, but I would like to redeem myself. Or at least say , "Good morning."
0
Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 8:54 PM UTC
Bronx Bound, Uptown.
Five years. So much can happen In that amount of time. Five years ago you left. Five years ago I thought I'd never see you again. Five years ago seems a life time away. Four years ago I found new friends. Four years ago I didn't know how I'd get through. Four years ago is so far away. Three years ago I wasn't sure who my friends were. Three years ago I saw you again for the first time. Three years ago is so far gone now. Two years ago I thought I found a new best friend. Two years ago you came to live with me for a few weeks. Two years ago is a distant memory. One year ago I was shunned by my friends. One year ago I said a final good-bye, unsure of how long until I would see you again. One year ago is something I'm holding onto for the years to come. Four months from now I won't have any friends. Four months from now you and I, we will be reunited. Four months from now is a future I'm grasping desperately. Five years is a long time To go without a best friend. To go without my sister. In a short span of months We can finally see each other! We can finally stop saying good-bye. The next four years Will be the best! We won't have to wait and fly thousands of miles just to see each other. From Prague to Kuala Lumpur Takes so much time and is so far We only see each other once a year. Manhattan to Bronx Doesn't take so long and is not as far. Now we can see each other whenever we want!! Five years. So much can happen In that amount of time. But now, Now we are together Once again.
0
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 12:18 AM UTC
Five Years
Five years. So much can happen In that amount of time. Five years ago you left. Five years ago I thought I'd never see you again. Five years ago seems a life time away. Four years ago I found new friends. Four years ago I didn't know how I'd get through. Four years ago is so far away. Three years ago I wasn't sure who my friends were. Three years ago I saw you again for the first time. Three years ago is so far gone now. Two years ago I thought I found a new best friend. Two years ago you came to live with me for a few weeks. Two years ago is a distant memory. One year ago I was shunned by my friends. One year ago I said a final good-bye, unsure of how long until I would see you again. One year ago is something I'm holding onto for the years to come. Four months from now I won't have any friends. Four months from now you and I, we will be reunited. Four months from now is a future I'm grasping desperately. Five years is a long time To go without a best friend. To go without my sister. In a short span of months We can finally see each other! We can finally stop saying good-bye. The next four years Will be the best! We won't have to wait and fly thousands of miles just to see each other. From Prague to Kuala Lumpur Takes so much time and is so far We only see each other once a year. Manhattan to Bronx Doesn't take so long and is not as far. Now we can see each other whenever we want!! Five years. So much can happen In that amount of time. But now, Now we are together Once again.
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