Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"dorito" poems
A burrito is like a Dorito A burrito is like a Dorito but it doesn't even Fritos but is a Frito even free tho like man I wanna be tho the one who can eat toe like that ain't me tho no foot fetish is in me yo like you know how I be bro like u know the beat tho therefore a burrito isn't like a Dorito unless it does the free tho frito txt me m8 248 880 2231
0
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 3:42 PM UTC
Is it free tho
What is cheese to me.. salvation of the tastebuds!! where the wave of cheeder sticks to my tastebuds attacking with flavor!!! i cannot imagine a world without cheese.. i mean **** can you put cheese on that.. what kind of cheese is not yours.. not cho cheese why because its mine!! like the lone dorito how i love to let it melt in my mouth.. jesus what kind of cheese do they put on that.. and pizza.. *** parmy cheese please.. love to open a block of cheese and cut me a big slice.. my cheese my size the way i want it.. and it will not get hard in the fridge if u put foil on it!!!
0
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 5:20 PM UTC
Cheese!
Eternity wheezed,displaying its shortness of breath.Orange orbs whizzed in its' originalpath of vision due to a completelack of oxygen.Stirring stars shot rubber bands at each otheracross the universe. TWANG!Comets were slung like spitballs. Black holespainted each others nails whitewhile biting into a crunchy planet like a Dorito.®Salt of the earth was lost in dank darkness.An Mp3 player came crashing through the stratospherewhile playing my favorite song."Sitting in the morning sun,I'll be sitting when the evening comes,watching the ships roll in, and I watch themroll away again".
0
Feb 25, 2010
Feb 25, 2010 at 11:30 PM UTC
~®ubbe® Bands
I placed a bet earlier on In the spirit of the spring that I, or should I say, you Would still be here - not moving Staying as stale as a couch dorito. And to think that I placed this bounty on your head While you sat still and slowly spun in reverse Then raised the stakes One hundred stacks. To the last verse in the old King James; You really made your mother proud. You took the hammer and made two. You stole the sunshine in hopes of a better view Of your "holier" nightmares. You made the one drop lock up so tight That not a n'er not a sheep could slip through. You wore that sweater that stole at least One hundred hearts Right out of the chests of the sunken treasure That I fought so hard for, But they were all for you. I bet you never guessed that You were always right when You never guessed and I bet You never guessed that You should have guessed wrong This time. I was the one that dropped the screwdriver in your mind. I never stopped to visit, I just didn't get the time. I used to always cut the cactus off just a little too soon. I remember I once left the moon in a hopeful wish that I could go home too. I guess I guessed a mess of a mess Thus ends this insanity, thus ends this madness.
0
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 8:38 PM UTC
Triple Digits
Dorito chips and mountain dew, The bread and butter of our youth, Kino Der Toten, Where the strange portal lays, Black Ops Zombies, I'd play to the end of days.
0
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 12:29 AM UTC
Xbox Life
This is going to sound crazy, But... I think I saw an alien yesterday. I was kissing my wife when all of a sudden she changed form in front of me. She was looking like a grey, scaly Asian grandma with Kardasian lips and eyes as black as holes. Not only are the aliens infiltrating our governments but they are infiltrating my love life as well. The reptilian leaned in, speaking without words. Like it was talking in my thoughts. He reached out to me, And we ascended into his flaming Dorito in the sky. We went from 0 to 300,000 miles per hour in the split of a second. I think I saw a military pilot as we were passing by. He tried to catch us, but we escaped in the blink of an eye. Angel? Extra-terrestrial? Visitor from the Zeta Reticuli? Or perhaps something inter dimension? He took me to meet his family, They had a message for me. They were the ones who gave rise to humanity. They think our fear of death is kinda funny. They were so welcoming, All about peace, love and understanding. They do not understand war, They don’t understand us at all. I woke up the next morning back in my bed. I can’t remember what happened, I think they put something in my head. My great grandmother thinks I was abducted. I’m! Not! Crazy! But the media would have you believe I am. They twist my words to make them sound insane. It wasn’t a man in a rubber suit. Please believe what I say. You believe me don’t you? It was a mother ******* Roswell Grey. I’m! Not! Insane! But since It was not on the tv. It’s not welcome in your reality? Go ahead and ridicule me, Try and keep me quiet. But I know what I saw, And I will never deny it. We’re not alone. We share a home, With another life form. They’ve been here for a very long time. Is there life out there? I want to believe. Beam me up, Scotty. I want to leave.
0
Nov 11, 2020
Nov 11, 2020 at 4:25 AM UTC
Flaming Dorito in the Sky
This is going to sound crazy, But... I think I saw an alien yesterday. I was kissing my wife when all of a sudden she changed form in front of me. She was looking like a grey, scaly Asian grandma with Kardasian lips and eyes as black as holes. Not only are the aliens infiltrating our governments but they are infiltrating my love life as well. The reptilian leaned in, speaking without words. Like it was talking in my thoughts. He reached out to me, And we ascended into his flaming Dorito in the sky. We went from 0 to 300,000 miles per hour in the split of a second. I think I saw a military pilot as we were passing by. He tried to catch us, but we escaped in the blink of an eye. Angel? Extra-terrestrial? Visitor from the Zeta Reticuli? Or perhaps something inter dimension? He took me to meet his family, They had a message for me. They were the ones who gave rise to humanity. They think our fear of death is kinda funny. They were so welcoming, All about peace, love and understanding. They do not understand war, They don’t understand us at all. I woke up the next morning back in my bed. I can’t remember what happened, I think they put something in my head. My great grandmother thinks I was abducted. I’m! Not! Crazy! But the media would have you believe I am. They twist my words to make them sound insane. It wasn’t a man in a rubber suit. Please believe what I say. You believe me don’t you? It was a mother ******* Roswell Grey. I’m! Not! Insane! But since It was not on the tv. It’s not welcome in your reality? Go ahead and ridicule me, Try and keep me quiet. But I know what I saw, And I will never deny it. We’re not alone. We share a home, With another life form. They’ve been here for a very long time. Is there life out there? I want to believe. Beam me up, Scotty. I want to leave.
Continue reading...
55
I have the special ability to spit spliced railroad tracks into all the right places. I Filled my ears with drainage tubes down complicated compliments through subway grates to visit the homeless man that believes in a better tomorrow. Because someone has to. Now I have never been on a subway, but the way your presence flows through my veins like a bullet in a barrel makes me feel that maybe i can be the one to deliver this moment. The moment that I was late for. Two years late. It took me a while to understand that the platform we have eloquently been slapping graffiti across will one day be our home. A home of every moment we have shared. Home has always been a place of here and there. I have never been able to stay in a specific longitude for more than a lifetime of awkward moments shared between a ********** and a clergy man. I choose to live in a mobile home. With wheels built off rotating personality disorders that refuse to believe in teamwork. We traveled through state borders leaving the past inside us for all to confide in. In my home, I have a room. I keep in there everything you don't know about. It builds comfort through my sternum. Exploding into my ribs that hug my organs with safety. Home is the place I want to be. My veins are electrical cords spitting energy though plywood walls charged with dreams about a remodel. A 4x2 for a spine stiff enough to support this bobble head of mine. My knee caps still need to be replaced at some point. They don't know how to walk in a straight line yet. Finding curves in my consciousness. Although Constructing this safe haven has been a Wreckless abandonment of everything I have learned from informercials at 4am. It started with a foundation of this will never go anywhere, transitioned into a tumbling saw blade crashing through dandelions for being so **** confusing. I still can't tell the difference between those and flowers. We ended here. In the dumpsters Bags I hide under my eyes. Full of memories from every time I said "I can sleep when I'm dead". Its all stuck in my head like a diamond plated dorito that was prized in a box for those who want more than good enough. So as I cough up my confidence I will sit next to you, on this subway, the one I have never been on. I will muster up some courage to honor all the good in you, and ask you simple questions like how was your day? What's your middle name? And where do you paint your home? Spray me across the definite realization that home is where you are.
0
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
Home
I have the special ability to spit spliced railroad tracks into all the right places. I Filled my ears with drainage tubes down complicated compliments through subway grates to visit the homeless man that believes in a better tomorrow. Because someone has to. Now I have never been on a subway, but the way your presence flows through my veins like a bullet in a barrel makes me feel that maybe i can be the one to deliver this moment. The moment that I was late for. Two years late. It took me a while to understand that the platform we have eloquently been slapping graffiti across will one day be our home. A home of every moment we have shared. Home has always been a place of here and there. I have never been able to stay in a specific longitude for more than a lifetime of awkward moments shared between a ********** and a clergy man. I choose to live in a mobile home. With wheels built off rotating personality disorders that refuse to believe in teamwork. We traveled through state borders leaving the past inside us for all to confide in. In my home, I have a room. I keep in there everything you don't know about. It builds comfort through my sternum. Exploding into my ribs that hug my organs with safety. Home is the place I want to be. My veins are electrical cords spitting energy though plywood walls charged with dreams about a remodel. A 4x2 for a spine stiff enough to support this bobble head of mine. My knee caps still need to be replaced at some point. They don't know how to walk in a straight line yet. Finding curves in my consciousness. Although Constructing this safe haven has been a Wreckless abandonment of everything I have learned from informercials at 4am. It started with a foundation of this will never go anywhere, transitioned into a tumbling saw blade crashing through dandelions for being so **** confusing. I still can't tell the difference between those and flowers. We ended here. In the dumpsters Bags I hide under my eyes. Full of memories from every time I said "I can sleep when I'm dead". Its all stuck in my head like a diamond plated dorito that was prized in a box for those who want more than good enough. So as I cough up my confidence I will sit next to you, on this subway, the one I have never been on. I will muster up some courage to honor all the good in you, and ask you simple questions like how was your day? What's your middle name? And where do you paint your home? Spray me across the definite realization that home is where you are.
Continue reading...
1
It was 10 PM but it felt like 3 AM I didn't eat the 4th Dorito bag And all I wanna do right now Is to take the car, go to the abandoned house on street 1, and smoke a box of cigarettes I don't even smoke Or have a license But I guess that's not the point The point is That I wish there was a pause button So I can breathe and cry it all out if I need to
0
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 9:30 PM UTC
Anxious crave
Sell cokes in a bottle goin' full throttle in the Q 45 infiniti with 10' squares of bass funk in ya face ya a disgrace cases i make none pull out my guns they run to the corner meet the coroner nobody goin' to mourn ya i love the dough **** the Show put hoes onto Moschino sip the Morijito make chips like dorito with the Monte Cristo sittin' on the earlobe doobies gotta roll em homies dap me cuz im a sho gun no one can dare compare death glares give cold stares strip ya of ya title no clothes leave ya in ya underwear dont care don't **** with Jigga but only these figures i like B-I-G check mickeys black E-Y-E from tryna stop the Grind now he Partially Blind Sniff lines not the white lines Im cold as **** pushin' ya luck get ya self a sweater cuz when my heat comes i bring the pain lightening thunder and the reign cant stop it flows i drop it hoes i got it on lock like a solitary confinement ya just freshman i moved Senior less than a year no tears no worries got glory Clutchin' like Horry pick a new catergory cuz i get bored with chillin' the same spot same knot makin' my Rounds around the World and i yayayah players haters hate me i dont why? maybe is because i hug the sky mad tight right ! blunts for the flight livin' the high life while ya stay Low i thought ya knew i Love the Dough !!ugh
0
May 28, 2017
May 28, 2017 at 2:28 AM UTC
Lovin' Dough