"bugatti" poems
Someone undeserving of my devotion,
ugly and beautiful,
whispers that scratch up all my dreams,
crazy glue,
a strutting rooster, cocking its vibrant scarlet head back and forth,
a wolf crooning into the night, only to eat me a minute later,
an ornately decorated box, containing a demon of possession,
a precious ******* up vinyl record,
an expensive bugatti that everyone wants but no one can get,
a snake, venomous, but protective of her eggs, really just scared,
a lamppost that's tired of it's job.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
** ** **
Hoes be everywhere yo
I soar above a city so naughty
Inside of my flying Bugatti
I land atop the cityscape
In fear of my **** getting *****
I slip my keister down the chimney
With a present prepared for lil' Timmy
As I reach the bottom my muscles freeze
And I realize there is no milk and cookiez
Bullets fly and my suit stains red
The cartel had found me and now I'm dead
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
things
will
get
better
when
my arthritis abates
when
I'm better looking
when
I'm smarter
when
I'm taller with better bones
when
my hair grows back
nice and wavy
when
I lose thirty pounds of fat
when
I'm filthy rich
when
my eyes are bluer
when
i have a PhD
without guile
and i don't have any
ticks ticks ticks
and no longer
still hate my dead father
who never let me forget that
the hand that feeds me
is the boot that kicks me
things
will
get
better
when
I'm celebrated for my myriad talents
when
my singing brings the house down
when
I'm forty years younger
and know everything I know now
when
I'm a world class boxer and poet
and can dance
the pachanga
with the stars
and exhibit my edgy brilliant sculpture
and elegant paintings
at the museum of modern art
and live in a big Malibu beach house
a big chested hero
with a nice suntan
and a Bugatti Chiron
in the driveway
tough guy tattoos
and four hundred dollar sunglasses
things
will
get
better
when
all men admire me
and
all women adore me
and want to take me home
for ***** kiss cocktails
leg shows
and sing giggling
throwing fluttering kisses
at me
during their fluffy bubble baths
while I photograph them
with my perfect
digital
memory
and
things
will
get
better
when
I can win marathons
running backward
while smoking a cigar
never tiring
and party like hell boy
inhaling drugs and *****
without the slightest ill effects
when
I can beat gravity
and fly at will
when
my health is perfect
and my teeth brush themselves
and my breath smells like bay ***
when
I'm never too hot or cold
but always cool
when
I can breathe underwater and kiss fishes
and ride neptunium whales
and giant squids
and fly through deep space
without a rocket ship
hows it hangin xeno
when
I cant help
but love everybody all the time
and all animals are happy
and have plenty to eat
that's not each other
and I play with lions
who kiss to lick me
and everywhere I go
death war and disease
are vanquished
and everybody is in ecstasy
when life is chocolate kisses
when
multiculturalism means
that everybody is falling in love with everybody
and kisses never cease
when trees are made of lollypops
and no one ever gets diabetes
and flowers dance to Latin rhythms
and everybody stops arguing about god
while in a state of immortal joy
that's
when
things
will
get
better!
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 4:23 PM UTC
A perturbed philosoper perches precariously atop a pedestal, preaching in poetic prose of the pernicious pitfalls of man's avowal to avarice; as a braindead banker bellows "BUY BONDS!" and boasts boisterously of his brand new Bugatti.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 6:33 PM UTC
The devil wears prada
Yet his daughter drives Bugatti
Cruising down the fast lane
Seducing everybody
Reducing human bodies
Recruiting for illuminati
Promising *** and fame and giving all the souls to papi
And I ain't too proud to say that this demon almost got me
Her good looks and mystery were just enough to rock me wild
Everything about her had me profound
Long hair, perfect smile
Wayne and jays, perfect style
Boats and planes, she gets around
In every way you thinking bout
Her ***** lips are open doors
Everybody's in and out
She got a phone full of young men
And they all want her
Meanwhile she in her whip telling them to swerve
Up until they feel desperate enough to give that girl the world
And she takes it
And ruins it
And makes their life congruent with
The hell that they will soon know when Seducila is through with them
But when they find out its too late
Through the legs of Seducila they meet the Devil's gates to stay
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 1:31 AM UTC
She fell from the skies
Couldn't keep floating on the lies
Pretending to be
What everyone wanted to see
An angel with papier-mâché wings
She was a Lamborghini riddled with dings
But to all she was a hottie
Driving around in a stolen Bugatti
Saying all the right things in your ear
If she couldn't have her way shed a tear
All those around her wanted
To give her all she desired undaunted
None the wiser
The next burst from this geyser
Could obliterate them all
It seemed she would never fall
From the clouds she rode
Even as her halo no longer glowed
Because all were blind
None the secret could find
But all this caught up to her
Only so much could be hidden
Behind the sheer gossamer
Of their eyes a veil eaten away by lichen
Truth be told she was still a breath taker
But the joy ride was over for this faker...
© okpoet
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 2:04 AM UTC
limited knowledge like the texture of the universe
incarnate into thunderbird till you reimburse
being human, yoga seeking union, change wave like a pitch bend
Discard the temporary factors reach the innermos,t ego rend,
rightly reach the innermost self within his or her own being, discarding on the way all temporary characteristics when asked to move do I
Move my atman or my body?
Do You own your soul like a new bugatti
Try to see it as it truly is
the body is insignificant
eternal forever ripping it.
I am the servant when I know my body
Yours when I live like atman highly
I contain without recipticol i.e
Is god different than matter, what IC..
Does it matter? knowledge
offered fresh like silver platter
that eyeB
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 1:31 PM UTC
Some poems are like classic cars
They're old, bestsellers and great
Very famous and heavyweight,
Their legendary tales told at the bars.
Some poems are like Lamborghini
Fast, loud and stir up different emotions
They are magical and perform like Houdini
Taking us beyond our wildest imaginations.
Some poems are like a Ferrari
Fast, loud, costly and mindblowing
Some went through fine tuning
Ready for the adventurous desert safari.
Some poems are a Mercedes SLK
Fast,affordable,famous,people's favorite
Upon sight, people just stand around and talk
Every time we see them we celebrate.
Some poems are simple and great
Some are so good and impossible to rate.
Some will keep you woke
Brilliant and so off the hook!
Some poems are so romantic
Appealing to one's fantasy
Some are just so demonic
Embellished with total heresy.
Some poems are like a Rollsroyce
They intrigue us
Classic, historic, famous
They embody royalty, very luxurious.
Some poems are like a Bugatti Veyron
very costly, fast, collectible
Loved by kings and Barons
Making our speed appetites insatiable.
Some poems are Mustangs
Muscles, deep, street savvy
Gruesome like hunger pangs
They are powerful and heavy.
Some poems are like Teslas
Clean, smart, rich people's favorite
Costing the average people accessive dollars
They are smoothly written and moderate.
Some poems are like a Koenigsegg
Fast, rare, collectible and very costly
They instantly sweep you off your one leg
leaving you like '' seriously! ''
Some poems will make you go WOW!
And some will make you bow
Making you feel inferior to the poet
Especially the ones written by a laureate.
Some poems are mundane
containing things to drive you insane
Some poems are just cool
but contains useful cools
Some poems have powerful impacts
they contain deep knowledge and facts
Some poems are very good
Some will nourish you like food.
Some poem will bore you
Some poems will entertain you
Some poems will enrich you
And reach you wherever you are.
Some poems will set your mind on fire
And leave lasting impacts like screeching tires
Some poems are just incredible
Revealing things that are relatable.
Some poems are wonderful
And some are prayerful
Some are a little bit radical
And some are somehow political.
Some poems are just ordinary
Yet they're devotion to start early
And motivation to use during the day
Something to take you all the way.
Some poets are so creative
their poems are just amazing.
Some are outright provocative
Yet their works are just fascinating.
©️ #IvanBrookspoetry✍️
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 10:02 PM UTC
Verse One:
Baby girl i guess so.
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
on the dance floor
Now you're here and you don't know why
Chorus:
Because it seems extreamly too hard to let you know.
And the hardest part is letting go
I think about you so often but girl you have no idea.
And I think I'm gonna love you for a long long time
Verse Two:
yes i can see you got money on your mind,and you are driving a new Bugatti in your dreams.
but girl,soon we two are standing still in time
I will build a castle for a queen and a lady.
Eye to eye we need no words at all.
Chorus:
Because it seems extreamly too hard to let you know.
And the hardest part is letting go
I think about you so often but girl you have no idea.
And I think I'm gonna love you for a long long time
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 12:33 PM UTC
I follow my own road,
Unable to determine really what road that is,
All I know is that,
It's not a big road,
Nor a paved one,
I am on a gravel road stretching for miles,
I don't speed on this road,
I'm driving below the speed limit,
I imagine that my road that I am taking is winding and undecided,
I'm driving a classic Bugatti Type 57sc Atlantic,
In a pale sky blue colour,
I don't care how long it takes for my path to straighten,
I just want to enjoy the ride,
Until life catches up.
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 9:50 AM UTC
I need a Beemer, for my yard
so all the neighbors see
I want a Mercedes for my garage
as I'm on a spending spree
I'll get a Porsche for the marina
and park it by the sea
My bright blue Maserati
I got it, just for me
I want a Lamborghini, in the drive
only taking it out at night
I need my Ferrari at the races
trademark red, so bright
I'll get a Rolls for parties
a grey ghost, will excite
My dark charcoal Bugatti
I know, the chicks, will bite
I'll have to admit
I'm a beauty connoisseur
my favorite is my Hummer
and she's not an auto, sir
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 2:17 PM UTC
Look at her
In that glamorous dress
Her hair in a tress
She'll unintentionally make my life a mess
My heart is pumping faster than a Bugatti
It's like a class of karate
I would love to wake up to the smell of Chapatis
Every morning
With you
I guess a man as sappy with me can just dream.
I got my homies, I got my team
I just need that one person that prevent me from feeling like Centime
But an amicable passim
Make the bottom of my heart a bream
It would end my dream
And turn it into reality
I'd rather you make my life a mess
Helping you through your life
Instead of being here alone trying not to overthink
I'm usually staring at the Sink
For a few minutes too long
Snapping out of it eventually
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 4:13 AM UTC
My mother told me to leave my mark
wherever I went.
When I asked her what did she mean,
She told me,
How she wanted me to leave
my name and my brand
as a symbol and signature
of my 'identity'.
'Identity', how would it look like...
Will it be tall so that it can
reach success even without climbing up.
Will it be hour-glass with curves
large enough to be liked.
Will it be fair so that it can be lonely too.
Will it be rich so that it can purchase Bugatti and Bentley.
Will it be smart so that it can create its success if it is not provided with any.
Will it be beautiful so that it can make people stop and stare.
Will it be kind so that it heals and saves what has been killed.
Or will it be soft so that it weighs every word before it speaks?
But then my mother told me your identity is 'you'.
But I cannot become my identity because I am not a signature to be looked at or a mark to be left.
So when I looked up in the dictionary
I found how mark is synonymous for
1.Stain
that I got on my sweatpant this morning.
2.Bruise
that has covered my neck like a mosaic painting.
3.Scratch
that has been carved on my legs by my own hands.
4.Blemish
that I have thrown on my parent's name and 'identity'.
5.Blot
that has covered my pages and hands because my pen is broken.
6.Scar
that stays on my heart.
7.Label
that I have put on myself and let others call me by it.
8.Identity
that I do not have.
My mother told me to leave my mark wherever I went.
But, wherever I went,
I gained one.
Jul 2, 2020
Jul 2, 2020 at 2:16 AM UTC
(her response)
Sometimes you wonder why am gone,
The reasons I have are better for me to stay alone.
I know you never expected to see my back,
Just like I never expected you to give me heart attack.
Never mind about the time I contrived for you,
Am contented with the lesson you taught me for it was true.
Never mind about my tunes that cut you loose,
Just know sometimes we win and the rest we lose.
Sometimes the battles we fight are nice,
And awful moments need to be ****** off between us.
Yesterday you bribed me with a Bugatti to forget the ****
Today I realize it’s not worthy what you did.
You can have it and let me go,
Rather than doing anything to please your ego.
I see you were infatuated with me, lad,
And my love for you feels outdated like a fad.
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 10:02 AM UTC
Sleep circles
with wide wings.
Pages vanish down the eye's well:
Napoleon burns Moscow,
French detectives fry onions,
Lorca dies in the greenest green.
Rain spits into the room
crooked, dark. I'm alone.
The gyre closes, soft as a net.
Dreams hunch on the furniture.
The mirrors broadcast
the Venetian blinds croaking
and rattling against the screen
like creamy swords
in enamel scabbards.
Book-addled eyelids
are rusting into blinks
of burling dusk.
Each dying thought
is a sleek Deco Bugatti
lead by a shining path
from teardrop headlamps
whose fingers pry the night
moments before tires
sing rubber to blue.
The rain gathers into serpents
in the channels of the floor.
Above you hangs
the fat black branch
of sleep's truest face.
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 10:29 PM UTC
Civilized people are cantankerously
Fighting, as if they are drawn
Into a macabre of horror
The Damascus or Aleppo is now dousing
The wild fire flung by the mad king
Gutted them from hospital bed to dinning drink
Moscow mutters its usual promises
Of the remedies to halt the sting
It is little wonder that the east is blank
When dragon flew from the west
Gurgling the blaze from its bulletproof vest
Some in the east have not even seen wild fire
In their harem, new anguishes wrung
For blousing the orifice of their blood bank
Abbottabad, which once fatigued the debris
Has been dishonored with the myth of Grand Prix
Contested between sleek Bugatti Veyron and Lamborghini
Unhappy lands are now divided between
The empires that can cease the territory
Orchestrating tussle between predators and prey
People are terrorized as their
Defenses are badly breached
Meanwhile, Mad king reigns supreme
Dreaming of a New world order
Where monsters fighting monsters are legalized
To an extent where humanity is
Decomposed into an atomic device
This continent is now like a vessel
Lost in the storm by its own undoing
The goal for its citizen is to survive
As the mad king is ready to jab in the boxing ring
To flatten you in front of your offspring
Far East is wedded between the cow horns
And the lavishness of dark ****
Or some say, between the missiles of the north
And the giant Eagle which is hovering back and forth
In a tormented and scourged peninsula burnt in wrath
The route all they have chosen
Will only welcome wrangling dispute
Among the priests, lords and cash kings
To wield their tantrum whether Solomon’s IQ
Was fluke in the Daniel’s Court of lucky ******
Even, when the apparitions from the land of unseen yield
To the higher hierarchy who are pulling the strings
There must be a new world order is on the offing
Sacrifices have been made, a dictum has been uttered
The chained armies are to be liberated, barriers are to be broken
The topography of this earth will be dashed in the lashing wild fire.
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 2:06 PM UTC