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"cleanin" poems
heavy head, ****** and tired sleep echoes through my corridor head. love, a treasure, buried deep within my x-marked chest; i stuck blades of grass in a picture frame, because everything else went away: like the cleaning lady outside my door, vacuum like a pet dog, pawing at carpet, grooming it with its soft, snuffly nose. mess cleaned and she went away. vacuum like a pet dog, hip-hugging, man's best friend. lines in the bathroom, lines out the back. waiting and shaking with a crazy laugh filled with warmth like a smile radiating from my muscles. powder leaves the plastic surface, like the cleanin lady outside my door, and her sniffling, snuffling vacuum-dog. ****** into a ten dollar bill, with a whimper and a sigh, the pup hops away with its owner, the cleaning lady off to brush along some other fool's corridors. on the cold steel, the train slows down, a mile out from the station. up hill, down hill, steam choking carriage, searching for thrill in the click clack, crazy rails of a cool powder train. in the bathroom crushing pills to get you up hill, down hill, with a steam choked carriage and that cleaning lady outside my door, she brought that dog, and he was barking real loud, makin' a fool out of me, in the bathroom of that click clack, crazy powder train. hands scritch' scratchin' on the white sheets, until in a moment, it all crumbles to dust, ridin' on the wind's back, leaving like they all do, like the cleaning lady outside my door, and that pet vacuum-dog of hers.
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Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
cleaning lady and vacuum dog
heavy head, ****** and tired sleep echoes through my corridor head. love, a treasure, buried deep within my x-marked chest; i stuck blades of grass in a picture frame, because everything else went away: like the cleaning lady outside my door, vacuum like a pet dog, pawing at carpet, grooming it with its soft, snuffly nose. mess cleaned and she went away. vacuum like a pet dog, hip-hugging, man's best friend. lines in the bathroom, lines out the back. waiting and shaking with a crazy laugh filled with warmth like a smile radiating from my muscles. powder leaves the plastic surface, like the cleanin lady outside my door, and her sniffling, snuffling vacuum-dog. ****** into a ten dollar bill, with a whimper and a sigh, the pup hops away with its owner, the cleaning lady off to brush along some other fool's corridors. on the cold steel, the train slows down, a mile out from the station. up hill, down hill, steam choking carriage, searching for thrill in the click clack, crazy rails of a cool powder train. in the bathroom crushing pills to get you up hill, down hill, with a steam choked carriage and that cleaning lady outside my door, she brought that dog, and he was barking real loud, makin' a fool out of me, in the bathroom of that click clack, crazy powder train. hands scritch' scratchin' on the white sheets, until in a moment, it all crumbles to dust, ridin' on the wind's back, leaving like they all do, like the cleaning lady outside my door, and that pet vacuum-dog of hers.
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J R died I guess many cried J R Ewing, Larry Hagman, son of Broadway’s Peter Pan offspring of a famous clan I guess a decent man another J R died, Jenny Rae I guess many cried but not likely fans from afar perhaps her nephew in the corner bar when he recalled through his wine soaked haze younger days, when his Jenny Rae would meet him payday and give him a five she earned keepin’ those old folks alive well, cleanin’ up their slop may not have been keeping anybody alive but she did it just the same even long after the cancer came and pain buckled her over on the bus, she kept goin’ smiling at their ancient vacant stares when she could when she was gone when she passed, curled up like a baby in that noisy ER there were no headlines about that J R only another wretched woman paid to clean up slop who hunkered faithfully over her mop to wipe up the remnants of Jenny Rae to earn her pittance of pay perhaps for another nephew or other lost son of an angry day
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Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 1:11 PM UTC
J R died
I laugh     when I hear conservatives talk about, the sanctity of marriage, and No Adam and Steve,         when I couldnt count                 the number   of extramarital indiscretions         committed by them, if I was a centipede,       with five toes on each leg.              I laugh         when I hear progressives talk about Conservative fear mongerin tactics. Have you seen any of these anti cigarette comercials lately? Who thought it would be a good Idea to put a ****** arterial cleanin surgery video on Comedy Central?  :)      I laugh when I hear conservatives say they are going to do everythin possible to keep Obama from servin a second term... and yet they nominate Mitt Romney as their man to do it. Who's gonna vote for a robot? :p     I laugh when I hear progressives call conservatives nazi's, and then tell me I shouldn't be     doin this,                or that, or I should belive in somethin I can't see... like change. :D Vote Ron Paul! because those other douchbags don't know what they're talkin about.
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Jun 17, 2012
Jun 17, 2012 at 5:23 AM UTC
Political Contradictions
Sheriff has his feet up Outlaw rides a path Deputy is cleanin up ***** draws a map Of a tumble **** Tumbelin down the street Where the fields a burnin And the wells are dry And the blacks burnin The curious eyes Of a crow perched on a fence wheat hangin from its beak Where bones are speakin From a barn ablaze Old man speakin From the flames
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Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
Harvest
Im drunk And ****** And speedin And cleanin And im seein All of your feelings, Out of the corner Of my eye. Where's the dope? Cause I cant cope With all our inside jokes Displayed for the world to see, Your heart is to much for me. So get to your point Before I light up this joint Cause once the buzzins in my brain I cant deal with the pain, That you're trying to project on me, Why cant you let yourself be happy? Creatin these problems in your head Then you're carrying them to bed. Our sheets are drenched in your nightmares, Your demons attack me in the night, And with your burdens on my back, Im too weak to fight. So im reachin for the bottle just to give my brain a break, Packin up a bowl, Cause its more than I can take. So I pop just one more pill, Smooth the edges and just chill, But I cant, not just yet Cause this house is such a wreck. So now im drunk And ****** And speedin And cleanin And im seein You dissapear Right before My eyes.
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC
if you like too
Before paper bills and money We'd share all those beans, Wild flowers too and honey Not anymore but in lucid dreams I'd strike a chord One maybe two But if you climb aboard Many more, I'll show you too With no baggage wish I were walkin' Roads traveled and those not, havin' some fun Sigh those bills!! no I ain't complainin' Here on the eleventh floor, I'm just cleanin' my gun Downed my whiskey, while the peeler swayed I kissed goodbye to a beautiful flight Lay rocking by the moonshade "Make that a double" I said, "its a cold one tonight" Before paper bills and money Cosmic harmony was the terrestrial theme By the Clyde over tomorrow's journey I'll Breathe My Swinish Dream!!
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Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 9:23 PM UTC
Swinish Dream
No my dear… I don’t want to go not fishin or shoppin or sight seein… NO I want to stay home **** Looking crazy… in a doo rag… and plaids and strips… And look at the caller id… and still not answer the phone… and talk to myself… and/or Scratch in inappropriate places… I want to eat leftover spaghetti... for breakfast… I want to pretend like I’m cleanin my room… and 4 hours later realize it’s still messy… and not mind at all… I want to walk into that other room… and turn around and walk back out… I want to lay down… and get up… and lay back down again… Then listen to some music… really loudly…and sing… really badly… and Talk to my plants… so that they don’t feel neglected cuz I spent all morning talkin to myself… and stand in the front doorway… and look out of the glass screen… and open it up… just to feel the temperature outside…. And then shut it back… and lock it It’s just one’a them days… So No… I don’t want to go… And go… and go... You feel me...? Today... I just want to stay home…
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May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 12:25 PM UTC
Just One'a Them Days