"dropkick" poems
Someone once said,
"A good pun is it's own reword."
But a bad pun
makes me want to strangle a newborn kitten
and then dropkick it into the Cretaceous Period
where it will hopefully be eaten by a Velociraptor
then **** out in a pool of molten lava
and preserved under the earth for the rest of time
but forgotten and ignored by all.
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 7:54 AM UTC
Give a shout of love out to Boston. Lost in translation I'll create this poem for a lost daughter or son.
A new war has been waged, well...heh heh. We've already won.
Spun out from a night of drinking wine, I'll type another line.
Killing people over selfish, religious beliefs, destroys happiness by the ton.
Are YOU ******* happy? Are YOU ******* done.
Plans to **** out weak people surely doesn't sound like fun.
Your **** stinks. No pun intended. Words on the internet should never make you offended.
Lend a helping hand for the Earth, or waste away in the dirt.
Beautiful women get slaughtered like cattle, in a dress or a skirt.
We'll have fun and we'll flirt. Still caring for others as they get swallowed by hurt.
Knowledge is power they say, so I'll take off my only shirt.
Give it to someone that needs it, so they may pay it forward to another.
My sister and brother, from another father and mother, read these words carefully, while haters turn into lovers. Hearts and minds full of love, kindness swoops down like a dove. Shove another McDonald's cheeseburger in your face and see your health drain away. Think of the animals that get slaughtered in warehouses each day.
Pray for fertile soil in April AND May. Fool YOURself into a thought that treating animals kindly isn't okay. Roam free in the grass and the hay, while slaughtering axes sweep around, sprays blood and slays. Helping each other day by day IS the new craze.
A daze of happiness turns frowns upside down with a smile and grin.
The Dropkick Murphys knows whats up.
For Boston....for Boston....for BOSTON!
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 5:30 AM UTC
a 2nd reiteration
listening to
dropkick murphys'
song
*i'm shipping off to
Boston*...
you ******* quasi-paddies
and Iraqi Aladdins
have ****** up "my"...
******* jukebox!
no music video ever came
with a ******* news channel
recommendation!
wankers!
sprat boilers!
brat spanking fetishists!
give me my ******* jukebox
back... you *******
toddler's little pinky
wankers off!
it's not enough that
the blood starts to boil...
my thinking becomes
all scrambled!
i turn into a Danzig hunger-strike
when i don't get
to listen to new music!
wankie ***** wankie *****
sure...
but when i **** off while
taking a **** and taking a ****
i don't make a *******
video out of it, do i?!
juggernaut... juggernaut...
juggernaut...
say it thrice like Beetlejuice...
and... well... shazam!
a rhino appears!
i'm taking prisoners...
the ones attached to the charge,
as they scream...
pretending to... "tag along".
give my jukebox back you
******* invertebrates!
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 8:14 PM UTC
Feather the links now,
I'm hoppity wide.
My self sight may shrink
Til I stumble my stride.
I'm often the cutter,
Of wit, more than skin.
Attack me with caution as
Meet wears patience thin.
I'll dropkick your efforts,
And sweat through your pores.
My tongue, I'll not *****
While your ears left with sores.
My buy polar bearings
Have spun me til stressed.
You best let me be now,
My button's depressed.
Nov 2, 2011
Nov 2, 2011 at 1:22 AM UTC
brate be
seven feet
balkan handz
yugo betrugo
atm tear it off
toni da serb
rade belgrade
brate be seven feet
balkan dropkick
es ist optik
es ist kopffick
we so yibbish
we so yibbish
diz is fibbish
gimme widdish
diz be the last day
of yous ridiculous stay
on this world
last day of ya stay
gimme your girl
gimme da cash
para be stammel
du hammel ik fick dich
he a sturdy kidic
aber keine wichtig!
come over and watch
gimme some cash
i'll cut ya head off
yous trash
ain't no madov
ya
know the code bro
inspire me baby
shorty now a sporty
nach dieser feier
gimme some raki
my pantz be khaki
benz like stasi you
know the code joe
gimme gimme gimme
bibi bibi bibi
ain't no real like
the copy of a copy
du opfer ich schneide
deinen kopf ab
eingeweide
quill'n
you gotz to chill
we so yibbish
we so yibbish
diz is fibbish
gimme widdish
jacket originally stolen
cevape and börek
para and babas
we don't care yeah
life be quick
touch my d##k
rub my d##k
life too quick
energy months
mothman *****
michael myers' titts
hyper years
feel me like an o.g.
you know the code brate
wenn ich deine fresse schlage
yugo betrugo
ebonics we got this
yugo betrugo
brate in die fresse pate
we so yibbish
we so yibbish
diz is fibbish
gimme widdish
ain't nothing new
check the views
just one fu##in fan
will burn ya jam
hip hop colors
flip flop mamas
beach feelingz
we need ringz:
MASSIVE
we need chainz:
CUBAN LINK NECKLACE 1 KG CLASSIC
Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 3:34 PM UTC
You could be so pretty
if
your hair was straight
or at least neat
and not fire engine red
You could look so lovely
If
you didn't insist on wearing
tatty jeans
Yellow Dr Marten boots
Dropkick Murphys tees
and you weren't covered in tattoos
You could have a better life
If
You hadn't married
that blue eyed
empty pocket
*** smoking
dreamer
You could have more time to clean
If
you didn't waste it
writing pointless poems
with your head in the clouds
listening to that awful racket
You could be more ladylike
If
you didn't attend protests
railing against politics
didn't smoke, drink,
swear like a sailor
and stayed away from mosh pits.
You could be better
If
you were a lot more me
and a hell of a lot less you
After all I've done
You were not what I was expecting..
Well, it was good talking to you
I love you mum
I love you too..
Lets do this again soon!
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 3:53 AM UTC
These losses are never my own,
stuck inside the hands of someone else.
but I am always the person to uncover them-
make a facade out of the remains
I am always the chosen one.
and when that is the case
what am I supposed to feel now?
bereavement is not a luxury I have ever owned-
it has always been stuck in the mouths of others.
so what do I say when grief gets in the way
of my ability to empathize.
what happens when I am too broken up
to put into words
the way I would like to dropkick
this world
in the nuts
and walk the **** away.
the deeper I travel inside of my own head
the harder these things get.
it was his,
they were theirs,
she was hers
and his
and it's
and never mine.
This sorrow is never only mine
because the weight is more heavy
upon those who have lifted this burden.
every single thing
in life makes an impact.
and I have always been
the airbag.
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 7:31 PM UTC
dropkick Murphys.....smoky pubs, height of Irish rough voiced songs, Celtic gifts
Jun 20, 2020
Jun 20, 2020 at 3:42 PM UTC
Dropkick they call him
This sweetheart of mine
He's useless, no future
I say give him some time
But time is dwindling for this aching soul
The need for substance to make him feel whole
Rising after noon
Impending doom
I love him I need him he'll be something... Soon
Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 6:59 AM UTC