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"cola" poems
I broke up with McDonalds On Valentine's day People said she was no good for me I had to get away So I told her, It's not you, It's just a phase I'm going through But as we all know - Dumping fast food is not a pleasant thing to do. So I broke up with McDonalds, didn't see her for a while Was doing pretty well - there was the occasional drunk-dial When I walked up to the window And I slipped into the queue - But then I came back to my senses And realised the thing to do... Was to keep on walking Keep on walking Right past her Ignore the temptation To suckle On those golden arches Ignore those bed-like burgers And those oh-so-easy fries Divide our shared world up And sever all ties! Yes! I broke up with McDonalds and my life is better for it When my girlfriend serves up rabbit food I simply adore it I was scared of life alone with no kebab to walk me home But...       What I once spent on burgers...                                                      I now spend on...                                                                                  Haribo! Oh Haribo! Haribo!   You are a fruit tree in a sack And although it feels wrong to see you Behind my girlfriend's back She can not be hurt by wrongs she does not know! No - the new love of my life is Haribo, oh Haribo! But then one evening after work My girfriend came home early. Caught me curled up on the couch   Soaking up her girly   DVDs In front of me A bowl of Not nuts, nor seeds... But fizzy, yes fizzy, Cola bottles   That were   FIZZY! How could you do this? My girlfriend screamed at me. Cannot you see the damage that they do-eth to your teeth? (She'd been reading Shakespeare) No, my eyes are on my face, I can't see in my mouth. Right, she said, If you think I'm joking then I'm going to kick you out. So she kicked me out the flat and that was that she said. Not quite... I grabbed my stash of Haribo from underneath the bed. I told her all the things about her that I really hated And the moral is: Relationships with things that you can't eat are over-rated.
0
Feb 20, 2011
Feb 20, 2011 at 2:52 PM UTC
McDonalds
I broke up with McDonalds On Valentine's day People said she was no good for me I had to get away So I told her, It's not you, It's just a phase I'm going through But as we all know - Dumping fast food is not a pleasant thing to do. So I broke up with McDonalds, didn't see her for a while Was doing pretty well - there was the occasional drunk-dial When I walked up to the window And I slipped into the queue - But then I came back to my senses And realised the thing to do... Was to keep on walking Keep on walking Right past her Ignore the temptation To suckle On those golden arches Ignore those bed-like burgers And those oh-so-easy fries Divide our shared world up And sever all ties! Yes! I broke up with McDonalds and my life is better for it When my girlfriend serves up rabbit food I simply adore it I was scared of life alone with no kebab to walk me home But...       What I once spent on burgers...                                                      I now spend on...                                                                                  Haribo! Oh Haribo! Haribo!   You are a fruit tree in a sack And although it feels wrong to see you Behind my girlfriend's back She can not be hurt by wrongs she does not know! No - the new love of my life is Haribo, oh Haribo! But then one evening after work My girfriend came home early. Caught me curled up on the couch   Soaking up her girly   DVDs In front of me A bowl of Not nuts, nor seeds... But fizzy, yes fizzy, Cola bottles   That were   FIZZY! How could you do this? My girlfriend screamed at me. Cannot you see the damage that they do-eth to your teeth? (She'd been reading Shakespeare) No, my eyes are on my face, I can't see in my mouth. Right, she said, If you think I'm joking then I'm going to kick you out. So she kicked me out the flat and that was that she said. Not quite... I grabbed my stash of Haribo from underneath the bed. I told her all the things about her that I really hated And the moral is: Relationships with things that you can't eat are over-rated.
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61
I met her on a narrow street of old Verona Her beauty’s magical, her name was Lady Mona She rolled a cigarette between her diva fingers A little cherry smoke around her gently lingers She had a long deep fire-coloured autumn hair That with the wind dance as if out of very care Her eyes are brighter, gayer then azure sapphires Two little diamonds that can start unholy fires Her ******* are full of life, the sweetest goddess milk It taste like childhood memories wrapped up in silk The skin – an undiscovered lands of sinful wild It sends you on a trip so rough yet very mild She was so picturesque, a genuine sugarbomb Like rays of sun that dazzle through a naked palm I pray thee, Jupiter, align the heaven stars And let me be the one who strikes of her guitars Wish I could walk to her and ask her dearly out I feel so brave yet nervous, want to scream and shout I want to spill it out, express my inner passion But that’s not me behaving in such crazy fashion Hell to the no! I go! I’ll spit my fire lines! I am a blonde! I curse those stupid *** designs I’ll offer things to her, I promise I’ll pushy **** I am gonna offer her my cola ***** If men be ***** models, I shall be one too I have one in my mouth – a nasty point of view If men can flirt and conquer, so can ******* I This Aphrodite’s taken, she is only mine I walk to her, approach her like the mighty Taurus Rehearse my lyrics, shuffle through my love thesaurus I smell perfume – ambrosia, nectar, lemonade… Formation, hold up, queen of… ******* Lemonade..? “What is the name of thee, do tell me, pretty dear Just like the beauty goddess you to me appear By any chance you are one of the youthful Graces? Be careful, darling, I can see your leather laces”
0
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 2:42 PM UTC
Once Upon A Time In Verona (Part Uno)
I met her on a narrow street of old Verona Her beauty’s magical, her name was Lady Mona She rolled a cigarette between her diva fingers A little cherry smoke around her gently lingers She had a long deep fire-coloured autumn hair That with the wind dance as if out of very care Her eyes are brighter, gayer then azure sapphires Two little diamonds that can start unholy fires Her ******* are full of life, the sweetest goddess milk It taste like childhood memories wrapped up in silk The skin – an undiscovered lands of sinful wild It sends you on a trip so rough yet very mild She was so picturesque, a genuine sugarbomb Like rays of sun that dazzle through a naked palm I pray thee, Jupiter, align the heaven stars And let me be the one who strikes of her guitars Wish I could walk to her and ask her dearly out I feel so brave yet nervous, want to scream and shout I want to spill it out, express my inner passion But that’s not me behaving in such crazy fashion Hell to the no! I go! I’ll spit my fire lines! I am a blonde! I curse those stupid *** designs I’ll offer things to her, I promise I’ll pushy **** I am gonna offer her my cola ***** If men be ***** models, I shall be one too I have one in my mouth – a nasty point of view If men can flirt and conquer, so can ******* I This Aphrodite’s taken, she is only mine I walk to her, approach her like the mighty Taurus Rehearse my lyrics, shuffle through my love thesaurus I smell perfume – ambrosia, nectar, lemonade… Formation, hold up, queen of… ******* Lemonade..? “What is the name of thee, do tell me, pretty dear Just like the beauty goddess you to me appear By any chance you are one of the youthful Graces? Be careful, darling, I can see your leather laces”
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36
Skyscrapers and mango trees wearing boxer briefs. The tantalizing wind blows caressing paperclips and mortuary signs— turning them indigo red for we all know that dead bodies are nothing but dead. Hymns of love and soliloquies of the unconscious ego— Id of our time but men of the past be our hero. Leaving to wonder, if king Nebuchadnezzar was a crack-feign would Coca Cola still educate penguins on the importance of Lesbian Existence? For in this war of life, cockroaches are the real winners, and the taste of excellence is only reserved for fire extinguishers — so if nuclear clouds persist, let the fire burn with love and you lay on the bed of oblivion cuddling the moral that capitalism leads to schizophrenia. So insure your sanity for free 99, this, with warm regards from yours truly,                                                                              Rhizome of Golgotha.
0
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 8:19 PM UTC
Love Letter to a Microwave
Don’t release your ******* Just release my single I don’t think it’s stunning When that thing is jingle ******* taste like Pepsi-Cola ******* taste like Marabou See a ***** – I say hola Eat that thing like caribou
0
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 5:59 AM UTC
PU$$Y
I truly believe that one of the reasons that the US is despised and condemned world wide is because of such views on such characteristics as: honesty, integrity, independence(this includes not thinking in a collective mindset which we do as a culture, everything is apple or windows, pepsi or cola, republican or democrat, people need to think for themselves stop claiming and just be), persistence, determination, morale, empathy, tradition/heritage, learning, chivalry, discernment, and humility. Instead of utilizing and perfecting these people of this nation and similar one's have become: prideful, dependent, drive-less, imprudent/unwise, insulting, ignorant(willfully so), objective, biased, crude, mediocre, and surface oriented. In turn we have neglected the responsibilities we have of ourselves. This has resulted in physical, mental, and spiritual capacity regression on a mass scale. Most people have no idea what they are consuming in their daily dietary intake(I mean really know what all the ingredients are and what they do whether positive or negative). Most citizens have also become, literally and according to the United Nations Education Scientific and Cultural Organization, mentally incapable and completely inane as compared to even 15yrs ago. We have forgotten how to have a community to the point that neighbors don't know each other anymore. We have exchanged the truly important things in life like knowledge and wisdom for wealth and appearance. We have completely forgotten how to survive without the aid of water treatment, electricity, and useless objects. One of the worst of all things we have stopped doing, is being involved with our government; instead, we have put our trust in them without oversight, and this is why we have been losing our liberties. I believe, just like Benjamin Franklin stated, that any individual who sacrifices even one liberty for safety/security... deserves to have all of their liberties eradicated. In conclusion, it is time to return our societies to ourselves. We need to relearn the truly important things in life and start living with ourselves, each other, and nature as we must to thrive. It is on us as a people to repair what generations before us, and our generations are doing; lest, I am afraid, our children and grandchildren will inherit the same ideals and expand upon them until we regress to the point that insolence, ignorance, and imprudence is the common norm... we have already begun to accept these. Open your eyes to the truth, at first it will be painful and difficult, but than you will be set free. WE THE PEOPLE ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR OUR FUTURES AND CHILDREN'S FUTURES.
0
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 12:18 AM UTC
America's Cultural Regression -- Philosophical Writing
I truly believe that one of the reasons that the US is despised and condemned world wide is because of such views on such characteristics as: honesty, integrity, independence(this includes not thinking in a collective mindset which we do as a culture, everything is apple or windows, pepsi or cola, republican or democrat, people need to think for themselves stop claiming and just be), persistence, determination, morale, empathy, tradition/heritage, learning, chivalry, discernment, and humility. Instead of utilizing and perfecting these people of this nation and similar one's have become: prideful, dependent, drive-less, imprudent/unwise, insulting, ignorant(willfully so), objective, biased, crude, mediocre, and surface oriented. In turn we have neglected the responsibilities we have of ourselves. This has resulted in physical, mental, and spiritual capacity regression on a mass scale. Most people have no idea what they are consuming in their daily dietary intake(I mean really know what all the ingredients are and what they do whether positive or negative). Most citizens have also become, literally and according to the United Nations Education Scientific and Cultural Organization, mentally incapable and completely inane as compared to even 15yrs ago. We have forgotten how to have a community to the point that neighbors don't know each other anymore. We have exchanged the truly important things in life like knowledge and wisdom for wealth and appearance. We have completely forgotten how to survive without the aid of water treatment, electricity, and useless objects. One of the worst of all things we have stopped doing, is being involved with our government; instead, we have put our trust in them without oversight, and this is why we have been losing our liberties. I believe, just like Benjamin Franklin stated, that any individual who sacrifices even one liberty for safety/security... deserves to have all of their liberties eradicated. In conclusion, it is time to return our societies to ourselves. We need to relearn the truly important things in life and start living with ourselves, each other, and nature as we must to thrive. It is on us as a people to repair what generations before us, and our generations are doing; lest, I am afraid, our children and grandchildren will inherit the same ideals and expand upon them until we regress to the point that insolence, ignorance, and imprudence is the common norm... we have already begun to accept these. Open your eyes to the truth, at first it will be painful and difficult, but than you will be set free. WE THE PEOPLE ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR OUR FUTURES AND CHILDREN'S FUTURES.
Continue reading...
4
Everyday, I stare at my face in the mirror, Wondering, wondering, wondering, Why do I have acne? I eat the slice of double cheese pizza that's cooling in my hand, Putting it down, I touch the underdeveloped pimples on my face, Popping each one out of irritation, I finish by drinking two can of coco cola after. **Oh, what a healthy life style I'm living!**
0
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 2:43 AM UTC
OMFG Acne
The first time I kissed you it felt electric It was cold and raining, and we were hiding from teachers At a school football game because you were in uniform and didn’t want to be seen The first time I kissed you we were both holding hands My head resting on your shoulder and you looking down at me with soft eyes I sighed and giggled because the moment was too cliche and awkward for a teenage hookup But then we kissed and it didn’t feel like that It felt , like I was loved or at least liked Your lips tasted like cotton candy, which was strange because this wasn’t a carnival Just a high school football game with hot dogs and Coca-Cola And when you pulled away and looked me dead in the eye, you said “That was the best kiss I’ve ever had.” I laughed because I’m stupid and I wanted to believe that you were honest And so, for that one blissful afternoon, we were ‘together’ and I liked it I liked you So, for that one and only afternoon, my world was only cotton candy kisses
0
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 4:20 PM UTC
Cotton Candy Universe
well that was lunch which was preoccupied with such thoughts of the typical poet eg why does the world want to cheat me.. what is the point and what is for tea..my lover´ s eyes are burnished fields´  of wheat i thought of love and lily.. a small blue bowl of vague reminded of a broken heart and since stopping smoking marijuana has my art suffered unnecessarily.. or is it better some clue must tell the difference between the placid and uncontolable rage the compatability of lasagne and rice the oxymoron.. the pollution of serviettes.. with our destructive urges laced with inexplicable flat cola and creation.. not unlike hunting for searching salt to will made in our own likeness cold soup to chips to explain.. what is this thing called man chapatti and jam.. we have to have to tell we have to work and then stack to clear them.. begin again the thoughts of a typical poet and soooo end..
0
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC
well that was lunch
Picketed, another generation pushing for advancement in the age of reason, Logical, radical movement Trying for less invasive measures of medication To take the blinders off the prejudice of non-conformity and reach the masses A promise to ease the pain, promote healing, the overall good Met with violence, verbal slander, from mommies and daddies afraid of a world outside their white fence, Fearing independence, the expansion of the mind, an openness in their youth to allow radical change. The bloated belt bent backwards, white collar replaced by hedonistic practical libertarians in pursuit of happiness for all Sick, disgusted with the man, the one behind the podium whom allows for this animosity on a group that did everything right, legally sound Tired of hearing the whispers across a university, the hopeful gushing’s of elated individuals bright- eyes naive Of a system that won’t allow something this controversial into the public, afraid to lose their hold on a potential capitol On something that should be as easy to find in a free market as Captain Crunch, Coca-Cola, and Rice Krispy Treats. Grinding down, fluffy-green-crystal bud Dank yellow smoke smoldering out of pipes end, seeping out of closed lips billowing out of nostrils Dragon fire down a throat coated with a week worth of soot, and experience Choking, coughing, laughing away the misery The disappointment in her fellow man to refuse to even consider the validity of a proven product Knowing that if it was anything else a miracle drug composed of fairy dust, unicorn hair and the ***** of a thousand angels; approval would have been immediate. Whip lash. Flick, flame, fumigating Baking myself into a calmer state, watching with ****** off grace Twitching with the need to take action To control this negative reaction, to slap the of face limp **** conservatives So consumed with themselves, blind to the pain of people who have lost hope in other forms of relief Alternative therapy shut off by a system obsessed with its war on drugs.
0
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 12:13 PM UTC
Ballot? What Ballot?
Picketed, another generation pushing for advancement in the age of reason, Logical, radical movement Trying for less invasive measures of medication To take the blinders off the prejudice of non-conformity and reach the masses A promise to ease the pain, promote healing, the overall good Met with violence, verbal slander, from mommies and daddies afraid of a world outside their white fence, Fearing independence, the expansion of the mind, an openness in their youth to allow radical change. The bloated belt bent backwards, white collar replaced by hedonistic practical libertarians in pursuit of happiness for all Sick, disgusted with the man, the one behind the podium whom allows for this animosity on a group that did everything right, legally sound Tired of hearing the whispers across a university, the hopeful gushing’s of elated individuals bright- eyes naive Of a system that won’t allow something this controversial into the public, afraid to lose their hold on a potential capitol On something that should be as easy to find in a free market as Captain Crunch, Coca-Cola, and Rice Krispy Treats. Grinding down, fluffy-green-crystal bud Dank yellow smoke smoldering out of pipes end, seeping out of closed lips billowing out of nostrils Dragon fire down a throat coated with a week worth of soot, and experience Choking, coughing, laughing away the misery The disappointment in her fellow man to refuse to even consider the validity of a proven product Knowing that if it was anything else a miracle drug composed of fairy dust, unicorn hair and the ***** of a thousand angels; approval would have been immediate. Whip lash. Flick, flame, fumigating Baking myself into a calmer state, watching with ****** off grace Twitching with the need to take action To control this negative reaction, to slap the of face limp **** conservatives So consumed with themselves, blind to the pain of people who have lost hope in other forms of relief Alternative therapy shut off by a system obsessed with its war on drugs.
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25
i've been reading poetry ee cummings and-- sylvia plath pretty pools of words filled with color --and ducks charles bukowski is a ***** old man lots of ***** old words and images but real dirt, not pretend real's so hard to find these days they talk about love like it's broken--painful--deadly-- always wonderfully beautiful (like the beautiful snake whose poison's killing you) that's not love because it's falling asleep with warm breath on the back of your neck and your bed a little too small because it's laughing so hard that you almost snort macaroni and cheese out your nose because it's doing laundry and pausing just to notice how your clothes smell like her because it's waiting alone, imagining how big you'll smile when she comes back - it's always bigger than you think. because it's knowing that the pain's not part of love, it's part of being human they don't know nearly as much as they think-- they do i love-- baseball in the park when it's not too hot (I play shortstop) chocolate ice cream cones in the hot sun (dripping down my hand) flying kites in autumn winds (the falling leaves make the difference) sledding through the snow (and crashing into snowbanks) i love-- coca-cola (in the glass bottles) root beer (with vanilla ice cream) 7-up (it's better than sprite) mountain dew (caffeine!) i love-- you (and the soapy smell after you shower) you (making me laugh more) you (how much you care about people) you (and you let me, too) that's my proof they don't know (what they're talking about that is) so-- i think poetry is overrated
0
Jan 25, 2010
Jan 25, 2010 at 10:08 PM UTC
love poems
i've been reading poetry ee cummings and-- sylvia plath pretty pools of words filled with color --and ducks charles bukowski is a ***** old man lots of ***** old words and images but real dirt, not pretend real's so hard to find these days they talk about love like it's broken--painful--deadly-- always wonderfully beautiful (like the beautiful snake whose poison's killing you) that's not love because it's falling asleep with warm breath on the back of your neck and your bed a little too small because it's laughing so hard that you almost snort macaroni and cheese out your nose because it's doing laundry and pausing just to notice how your clothes smell like her because it's waiting alone, imagining how big you'll smile when she comes back - it's always bigger than you think. because it's knowing that the pain's not part of love, it's part of being human they don't know nearly as much as they think-- they do i love-- baseball in the park when it's not too hot (I play shortstop) chocolate ice cream cones in the hot sun (dripping down my hand) flying kites in autumn winds (the falling leaves make the difference) sledding through the snow (and crashing into snowbanks) i love-- coca-cola (in the glass bottles) root beer (with vanilla ice cream) 7-up (it's better than sprite) mountain dew (caffeine!) i love-- you (and the soapy smell after you shower) you (making me laugh more) you (how much you care about people) you (and you let me, too) that's my proof they don't know (what they're talking about that is) so-- i think poetry is overrated
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65
Cola and Crown Cola and Crown Burns coming up But, smooth going down Cola and Crown Cola and Crown Burns coming up But, smooth gong down Sitting at the tavern Needed courage Drank four shots Downed them in six seconds Now, I didn't feel so hot Stumbled to the dance floor Room was spinning So was I Four shots in just six seconds Felt like I was gonna die Waitress pushed on by me Saw that I had paid my dues Four shots in just six seconds I threw up on her new shoes Cola and Crown Cola and Crown Burns coming up But, smooth going down Cola and Crown Cola and Crown Burns coming up But, smooth gong down She screamed and i just wobbled Then she socked me with her tray She gave me four shots in six seconds Now, on the floor I lay From now on when I'm drinking I'm drinking beer, no matter what I've got two black eyes to show me Four in six ain't that hot
0
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
cola and crown
fat kid, oh fat jkid, oh where are you fat kid i am really fat kid, full of muscles ya see i love cream buns, ****** oath i am a big big big big man what do ya think about that, puny little cool kid i love my beautiful spring rolls as well as a coca cola to wash it down with that is mighty fine, oh yeah and the kids went up to me, and said fat kid fat kid fat kid, you are a fat kid i said, i am not a kid, for i am an adult, who lives life like it’s one big adventure after the next as i said, i am known as the fat kid, the really big fat kid i love spring rolls, cream buns, and a coca cola and i love lamingtons, as well, and i love meat pies and sausage rolls which makes me a real australian ***** **** and a custard **** i can lick the fat right off that and the voice came from out of the blue fat kid fat kid, you are a fat kid, and another voice says your not an adult, adults are cool, and i said, i am cool on the computer, **** and then i said, i am so an adult, a creative adult, a good fooler\ i try to be a cool kid, to gain protection, but reality i am a cool adult and i don’t appreciate being treated like a fat kid i am a cool adult who loves to PARTY an adult PARTY dude so to speak
0
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 10:06 PM UTC
i was the fat kid, oh fat kid, i am not shy, i am, a lover of life, oh yeah i was
I can smell the flowers On this nice spring day I used to smell smokes and food But now I can smell the flowers It is great to be losing weight You know, I lost 7 kg since the last time, I am losing weight All the time It makes it easier for me to Smell the nice flowers I love that smell better than the smell of drowning ***** or Coca Cola, no I still feel like partying but I can smell the flowers better now Each flower I smell mate Drifts me away from my Mental illness voices And as I do my exercises outside I can feel the touch of nature Because I can smell the flowers easier it is a lovely smell indeed I love flowers they are very nice And beautiful and I am starting to feel fresher and smell fresh things There is nothing more to life Than beautiful flowers Taking over your sense of smell I know I will do my exercise good Especially if I keep the lovely Sensation of smelling flowers In this lovely month of spring Better than pizza or nachos or others Yeah smelling the flowers is the best yet
0
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 1:37 AM UTC
i can smell the flowers fresher now, i'm losing weight
The youth Youth is weird, Somewhat interesting. An adult pop rock mix With child soda pop. Youth is Coca-Cola, Marlboro, whiskey and energy, The eternal monologue of life, ID number, property tax and Netflix. Youth is John Lennon, Che, Fidel and Hendrix, Contemporary history, ancient and medieval history. Youth is pants ripped jeans, Popsicle, lollipop, painted face, Chicle, coffee and french fries, Point G, miniskirt and condoms. Youth is the Dalai Lama, Techno, rave and rasta, Drugs, drops and guitar, Punk, samba and hopefully that-fall. Youth is the opposite of the opposite, It's a Friday at midnight, Mustard, ketchup and mayonnaise, X-salad, ham and cheese sandwich and X-men. Youth is D-Day, Vietnam, Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Testosterone, Woodstock and Waterloo, Afghanistan, TPM and MTV. Youth is a pressure cooker, Isis, Syria, sukiyaki, Anonymous, Al Qaeda, rice and beans, Genesis, Revelation and mint candy. Youth is weird, Somewhat interesting. An adult pop rock mix With child soda pop.
0
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 7:25 AM UTC
THE YOUTH
You choked on chariots raw. Red egg yolk suppers, churned of the milk oceans this morning you kept. The lintel of stone turned toward dusk. Some great dynasty of submissive spirits catering your morning Out on a cart of muse, forms of heaven cannot even hear you. You are a soporific knot in the tale of your Old womanhood. In this infinite Tuesday morning your small black eyes, like an oil tanker toppling over The intense azure sea- shipwrecked, and lost. Departing from your childhood you slurp Coca-Cola from a silver straw. From the corner store and inside Winter yawns. There is no face, only strikingly beautiful black hair. The body under you is at home in all My hand's fingers have to fill. All the clothes that you could carry for the two-way adventure. There are Never enough bubbles between your lips and the glass bottle you have. Only the score of the whistleblower. And the poor symphony you had prayed for into the dial-tone phone, the deep Wilderness, that stiff forever-ago budding from your coffee cup. Neurogenesis lifted from your Fingerprints and emblazoned into this lump of human ingenuity. The hopeless octave that cut us all short. Every short story that was left untold. There are the brief deaths recoiling in your spiritual architecture. The ****** of morphia has bourn me awake. Inside you are often unscathed, vanishing as some of Tonight's parts assemble you, on you blue is a beautiful color. The sweet retreat that gave you life or the bountiful deaths that counted you too cutely by your side. You are the sun in my black coat. Here is my sea, your sea, you'll see.
0
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 5:34 AM UTC
Coca-Cola at 2:00AM
You choked on chariots raw. Red egg yolk suppers, churned of the milk oceans this morning you kept. The lintel of stone turned toward dusk. Some great dynasty of submissive spirits catering your morning Out on a cart of muse, forms of heaven cannot even hear you. You are a soporific knot in the tale of your Old womanhood. In this infinite Tuesday morning your small black eyes, like an oil tanker toppling over The intense azure sea- shipwrecked, and lost. Departing from your childhood you slurp Coca-Cola from a silver straw. From the corner store and inside Winter yawns. There is no face, only strikingly beautiful black hair. The body under you is at home in all My hand's fingers have to fill. All the clothes that you could carry for the two-way adventure. There are Never enough bubbles between your lips and the glass bottle you have. Only the score of the whistleblower. And the poor symphony you had prayed for into the dial-tone phone, the deep Wilderness, that stiff forever-ago budding from your coffee cup. Neurogenesis lifted from your Fingerprints and emblazoned into this lump of human ingenuity. The hopeless octave that cut us all short. Every short story that was left untold. There are the brief deaths recoiling in your spiritual architecture. The ****** of morphia has bourn me awake. Inside you are often unscathed, vanishing as some of Tonight's parts assemble you, on you blue is a beautiful color. The sweet retreat that gave you life or the bountiful deaths that counted you too cutely by your side. You are the sun in my black coat. Here is my sea, your sea, you'll see.
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7
Mickey Mouse When Mickey Mouse comes home hungover He throws up ice cold Coca-Cola He lives in a spherical house in the sky Which he enters and exits with telescopic stilts Which grow or shrink with every step He is a good vertical neighbor I live just to the right of him down below He always stops to say hello Or to make me laugh with a joke or pose (One time he even stole my nose) Sometimes I get so mad at Mickey That I take it out on my kid And then spent, I wonder what Mickey did?
0
Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 3:31 AM UTC
Mickey Mouse
Coke holiday commercials got me drinkin', New Years day, expect to pass a kidney stone.
0
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
Coca Cola holiday commercials 15w
You, saying love You, shaman's road You, a bird You, a yellow sun You, Emperor You, lovely door You, my Walt Whitman You, Neal You, Sal Paradise You, Pancho Villa You, La Revolución Mexicana You, navajo You, the border You, the river You, chicana You, Mafia You, redemption You, poetry You, Salvador Dalí You, Picasso You, stereo You, love You, *** You, youth You, America You, América You, español You, english You, country side You, cat You, fire You, books You, E. E. Cummings You, Bukowski You, Octavio Paz You, Coca-Cola You, Coke You, India You, Mississippi You, jazz You, Miles You, Davis You, water You, rain You, lagoon You, chest You, car You, road You, reading You, lines You, Paris You, Baudelaire You, Poe You, japanese You, katana You, Mishima You, gun You, rifle You, cam You, can You, can't You, Durango You, Arizona You, desert You, gonzo You, mezcal You, alcohol You, drive You, crush You, alive You, again
0
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 3:16 PM UTC
Down with law
You are pathology incarnate The sweat on your brow trick of the light You were the first female But you are no woman Just a beast in the shape of a girl Plucked one year before ripeness A major at everything A minor one way Your eyes betray your true nature Sharp, louche and depravity reined Soot-yellow and one dollar green Some might call it hazel I call it dirt against your aryan gold hair If you offered me fruit I’d force myself to take a bite So my soul won’t witness my guts feasted in the gutter Carnivorously carnival-carved cadaver Stamped under your cigarette-stained heels Cherry cola chipped out of chapped lips Cos I didn’t dare take a chockfull You’re the first girl who has ever touched me But I’m just the fly on your fruit Lilith Haefelin The girl before Eve.
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Apr 7, 2021
Apr 7, 2021 at 11:33 PM UTC
Girl before Eve
coca cola is nice as it goes to my belly and made my tongue feel like a bowl full of jelly you see athena says coke is a medicine which removes the stress out of my body you see as i was walking down the streets trying to do what the doctors tell me, it’s making me dwell saying i believe coke can cure you and i also believe it can make you happy because in this life you will die one day you see dying is like entering another party be happy as you drink coca cola medicine of the gods you see i want my stress to completely disappear cause, dudes i try to be a low stressed person you see i will never get the job i want because the employer wants me to be perfect you see, dudes, i believe in being happy and not feeling sad so please leave me alone ya dead old hag if you want a great medicine, try coca cola for coca cola is the best medicine, dudes
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Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 7:12 AM UTC
a poem about coca cola
you see i am very very hungry, so much in fact i burp very weirdly, yeah i feel so weird i burp loud and i burp soft when i have a nice cream bun or a nice beef nachos and i feel like a nice packet of chocolate biscuits ya know to have with my coca cola i was watching ellen degenerous and i felt like eating the pie that went in the contestants face yeah i feel like a bag of popcorn as well as choctop at the movies because my mouth is burping very weirdly i don’t want to have this burping feeling i feel like a strawberry milk and i am fighting myself saying, no, i don’t need it the strawberry milk says yes, i do, but i don’t want a strawberry milk, it’ll just make me fat i wanna lose weight but the burping is making me want food, i want a nice chocolate bar and i want a bag of marshmallows, i want to have more energy so i can be a cool person, that i am, i know the burping really is bugging me and i do want it to stop, STOP, making me feel this way, i want to an artist and a writer and not an eater please leave me alone strawberry milk and leave me alone chocolate biscuits, i don’t want to eat you i feel like a chocolate biscuit, but then i say, i will grow fat, ya know keep the fat on me i don’t want to be fat, i want to lose weight, so leave me alone ya ****** strawberry milk and coke i want to feel fit in my mind, so i can write and be creative please leave me alone, junk food, i don’t want to eat you but the junk food gets in my mind and makes me smell the nice chocolate i know coke used to be a medicine, but i don’t wanna drink ya i like to have a healthy lifestyle, and i want to lose this burping because it’s the medication making me wanna eat, like donuts and vanilla slices and cream buns and dewok chinese stir fry’s and chocolate biscuits and chocolate desserts and strawberry milk and a large bottle of coca cola, as my medicine, I DON’T WANT THAT i had a garden salad for lunch as well as a few glasses of water i hate being fat, so that means at 2-30 pm, i will go for another walk, whether i feel like it or not because i must get rid of all this food from my body, so i don’t get diabetes so if you feel fat, because you eat too much food, push yourself into walking and walk a regular pace, so you don’t feel sluggish
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Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
the mouth watering burp, will stop if eat this, STOP IT
you see i am very very hungry, so much in fact i burp very weirdly, yeah i feel so weird i burp loud and i burp soft when i have a nice cream bun or a nice beef nachos and i feel like a nice packet of chocolate biscuits ya know to have with my coca cola i was watching ellen degenerous and i felt like eating the pie that went in the contestants face yeah i feel like a bag of popcorn as well as choctop at the movies because my mouth is burping very weirdly i don’t want to have this burping feeling i feel like a strawberry milk and i am fighting myself saying, no, i don’t need it the strawberry milk says yes, i do, but i don’t want a strawberry milk, it’ll just make me fat i wanna lose weight but the burping is making me want food, i want a nice chocolate bar and i want a bag of marshmallows, i want to have more energy so i can be a cool person, that i am, i know the burping really is bugging me and i do want it to stop, STOP, making me feel this way, i want to an artist and a writer and not an eater please leave me alone strawberry milk and leave me alone chocolate biscuits, i don’t want to eat you i feel like a chocolate biscuit, but then i say, i will grow fat, ya know keep the fat on me i don’t want to be fat, i want to lose weight, so leave me alone ya ****** strawberry milk and coke i want to feel fit in my mind, so i can write and be creative please leave me alone, junk food, i don’t want to eat you but the junk food gets in my mind and makes me smell the nice chocolate i know coke used to be a medicine, but i don’t wanna drink ya i like to have a healthy lifestyle, and i want to lose this burping because it’s the medication making me wanna eat, like donuts and vanilla slices and cream buns and dewok chinese stir fry’s and chocolate biscuits and chocolate desserts and strawberry milk and a large bottle of coca cola, as my medicine, I DON’T WANT THAT i had a garden salad for lunch as well as a few glasses of water i hate being fat, so that means at 2-30 pm, i will go for another walk, whether i feel like it or not because i must get rid of all this food from my body, so i don’t get diabetes so if you feel fat, because you eat too much food, push yourself into walking and walk a regular pace, so you don’t feel sluggish
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Loco porque yo lo coloco y ella lo quita y lo coloca con cola loca en otro loquito lugar Loco lo quito y otra vez loquito vuelvo y lo coloco como un bobo loco bien dónde debe estar Y la loquita loca lo quita de su local Y lo coloca en otro lugar El colmo del caso es que si seguimos acaso   dando este paso nunca lo cazo en casa local al loco loco loquito locazo. Así que deme otro vaso Qué si la loca lo quiere al loco de paso lo buzco al triple locazo y lo juro que yo me lo cazco.
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Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 8:23 PM UTC
Yo lo coloco y ella lo quita
You see women, I see commodity **** its ***** It's like Coca Cola It''s a commodity and everybody likes it I'm a **** ***** and you can **** it Get on your knees! Do I have cane in my car? Answer me Do I have a cane in my car? Yes Does it make me a **** ... It could
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Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 2:24 PM UTC
The **** or The ********** ?
you see, i like partying, these celebrities ain't partying, they are popping pills in the wrong way, you see i have thoughts that athena heals me in my sleep and sometimes those pills could help, but really dudes paracetaol is good, it's just that that people want to be so ****** perfect, like, i just woke up from a dream where an old mate named james taught me all the mistakes i made when i was young and a bit of mum and dad was thrown into the conversation, when i wasn't paying much attention to what james was actually saying, you see i know i was a crazy mother ****** but that doesn't mean i approve of their partying, but a lot of people don't approve of my partying, but i don't care, athena is helping me, with coke and paracetamol and fluoride and seroquel and serenace, some people hate partying because they are too old, i just say, hi, old i am brian and partying is going to community events and dancing by the stage and i know, that looking and examining this documentary, it shows hos partying can lead to rotten religion, but i believe in rotten religion i believe if you wanna have *** go ahead and have *** and if you like to party into the night, go ahead, just because you party doesn't mean you ain't grown up. it just means i like partying and another thing i am a grown up dude, i loves to party, with coca cola, you see i feel my voices are trying to make me a fucken moral citizen, what is the hell wrong with partying at community events, my motto is learn about your drug your taking, saying, do you really want this kinda life that the drug will provide for you and stay with partying with sugar or alcohol and leave illegal drugs alone, paracetamol is a pill you take to release pain and if you believe it, send spiritual healer athena to you ATHENA WORKS WONDER, take paracetamoil let's party at community events you don't have to look like you party, just say, at least i am out i don't want to be the kind of old dogie who says no to going out partying well, i don't think much of nightclubs anymore
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Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 11:38 AM UTC
partying the right way, i still like it
you see, i like partying, these celebrities ain't partying, they are popping pills in the wrong way, you see i have thoughts that athena heals me in my sleep and sometimes those pills could help, but really dudes paracetaol is good, it's just that that people want to be so ****** perfect, like, i just woke up from a dream where an old mate named james taught me all the mistakes i made when i was young and a bit of mum and dad was thrown into the conversation, when i wasn't paying much attention to what james was actually saying, you see i know i was a crazy mother ****** but that doesn't mean i approve of their partying, but a lot of people don't approve of my partying, but i don't care, athena is helping me, with coke and paracetamol and fluoride and seroquel and serenace, some people hate partying because they are too old, i just say, hi, old i am brian and partying is going to community events and dancing by the stage and i know, that looking and examining this documentary, it shows hos partying can lead to rotten religion, but i believe in rotten religion i believe if you wanna have *** go ahead and have *** and if you like to party into the night, go ahead, just because you party doesn't mean you ain't grown up. it just means i like partying and another thing i am a grown up dude, i loves to party, with coca cola, you see i feel my voices are trying to make me a fucken moral citizen, what is the hell wrong with partying at community events, my motto is learn about your drug your taking, saying, do you really want this kinda life that the drug will provide for you and stay with partying with sugar or alcohol and leave illegal drugs alone, paracetamol is a pill you take to release pain and if you believe it, send spiritual healer athena to you ATHENA WORKS WONDER, take paracetamoil let's party at community events you don't have to look like you party, just say, at least i am out i don't want to be the kind of old dogie who says no to going out partying well, i don't think much of nightclubs anymore
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Observing these old men sitting at the stockyard cafe, Suspendered bellies hanging above huge buckles And button-crotched Levi's tucked tight  over leather boots, Legs grown bowed and thin, but carrying  them to the sale, still, To hear the auctioneer, talking fast to work the buying crowd, And get their fill of cattle, shoved indoors, Sold beneath the steady cracking whips, A spectacle to burn its way into my minds's forever eye: The skidding steers, the rolling eyes, the frantic scramble to find cover, While buyers gave their quiet signs: A tilted cap, a winking eye, a thumb or index finger up or at a side, To purchase cow or bull or horse, in living flesh... Then out again, through the other door, And turn our heads to wait for more, and read the scrolling numbers: How many head, how much per pound, perhaps a buyer's name, And then the swinging sound of other cattle coming in to start again. So, here these old boys sit again, Slurping coffee through their yellowed teeth, Remembering days  of indoor cigarettes and harried waitresses, The smell of cow manure and jingling spurs, Though now the smokeless ring seems tame, more civilized, I see the glory days reflecting in the old men's eyes..... I was just a boy back in those good old days, My memory is a little hazed, but I can recall When smoking was allowed and sawdust covered the filthy floor, A Coca-Cola cost a dime, and the cattle sale with Dad was the big time; Quaking as we treaded light on the catwalks above the pens, Looked for our calves, or cows Dad culled to bring to sale, Then going down and in to see them sell. Fondly now, I can recall the restaurant at the ring Where  I hoped for a slice of lemon pie from behind chill-fogged glass, Saw cowmen wearing spurs and neckerchiefs and chaps... Dreamed of growing up to be a cowboy.
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Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 1:32 AM UTC
Montana Livestock Auction
Observing these old men sitting at the stockyard cafe, Suspendered bellies hanging above huge buckles And button-crotched Levi's tucked tight  over leather boots, Legs grown bowed and thin, but carrying  them to the sale, still, To hear the auctioneer, talking fast to work the buying crowd, And get their fill of cattle, shoved indoors, Sold beneath the steady cracking whips, A spectacle to burn its way into my minds's forever eye: The skidding steers, the rolling eyes, the frantic scramble to find cover, While buyers gave their quiet signs: A tilted cap, a winking eye, a thumb or index finger up or at a side, To purchase cow or bull or horse, in living flesh... Then out again, through the other door, And turn our heads to wait for more, and read the scrolling numbers: How many head, how much per pound, perhaps a buyer's name, And then the swinging sound of other cattle coming in to start again. So, here these old boys sit again, Slurping coffee through their yellowed teeth, Remembering days  of indoor cigarettes and harried waitresses, The smell of cow manure and jingling spurs, Though now the smokeless ring seems tame, more civilized, I see the glory days reflecting in the old men's eyes..... I was just a boy back in those good old days, My memory is a little hazed, but I can recall When smoking was allowed and sawdust covered the filthy floor, A Coca-Cola cost a dime, and the cattle sale with Dad was the big time; Quaking as we treaded light on the catwalks above the pens, Looked for our calves, or cows Dad culled to bring to sale, Then going down and in to see them sell. Fondly now, I can recall the restaurant at the ring Where  I hoped for a slice of lemon pie from behind chill-fogged glass, Saw cowmen wearing spurs and neckerchiefs and chaps... Dreamed of growing up to be a cowboy.
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