"dunking" poems
The chocolate digestive is a marvel of invention
Custard creams are sickly, but worthy of a mention
Shortbread can be gritty, steer clear of the cheap ones
For if you love your biscuits, your pockets must be deep ones
For perfect dunkability, the hobnob leads the field
But prone to going chewy if their packet isn't sealed
Bourbon creams can satisfy when nothing else is offered
Avert your eyes from pretzels, no matter how they're proffered
The lowly Garibaldi is an underrated treasure
A macaroon is excellent for eating at your leisure
Enjoy the home made cookies and the chocolate crispy nests
And save a pack of party rings for fobbing off on guests
But biscuits can be functional, with keen survival craft
A packet of pink wafers can be used to make a raft
Penguins can be hollowed out and used to smuggle crack
And if you throw a ginger nut, you'll always get it back
A Jaffa cake is handy as a snowboard for a spider
And flapjacks are a sustenance and energy provider
Wagon wheels are lethal when they're wielded by a ninja
Brandy snaps cure cancer with a tiny hint of ginger
Experiment with biscuits, they're a versatile thing
Try horizontal dunking or the highland shortbread fling
Keep a packet stashed away for when the end is nigh
And always have the kettle full, and milk in good supply
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
Shimmer and flow
Wood Lake at sunset seems to emit a soft glow.
Waves like edges move and dip
Feathering out, tumble and flip.
I hear the giggling of happy little girls
Dunking heads underwater and wetting their curls.
Scraggly young boys jump off a long pier
Showing their bravado that they have no fear.
Mallard ducks and tan little birds soar and float.
Passing patient people fishing off docks, or in a boat.
As I watch natures glory a gentle breeze caresses my sleeve.
I am at peace with myself with nothing to grieve.
I am very grateful for the time I spent here.
It gave me the chance to think with a mind that is crystal clear.
I was in my own world relaxing on my inflatable chair
With the sunshine as my companion floating here and there.
This quaint little lakehouse is a Godsend to friends
Who need some time to heal, make changes or amends.
The owners are loving in spirit, generous and kind.
They open their home as a haven for the heart, soul and mind.
Copyright *CindyRenouf @2010
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Cindy1128
Jul 27, 2010
Jul 27, 2010 at 7:32 PM UTC
(Speaking)
I wanna be the best
I wanna be the best like the rest
I want my name to be on the hall of fame
And I just want to be the greatest kings
I want to win many rings
To be the best
You have to believe
And achieve many things
Ladies and gentlemen
Mr jbird
(Verse)
I'm balling like Kobe
I'm dunking like KD
Greatest 3 pointer like S.curry
I just burry my haters
Rest in peace
I'm so quick like j. Wall
I'm hungry for more championship like Lebron
I'm breaking records like melo
I don't like jello
Hello haters
How are ya doin
Do you miss me
Cause I miss ya too fakers
Hahahaah
Let go
(Speaking)
Yo junior your the best
Bring it back yo
Come on let go
(Verse)
Pass the ball *****
I'm the best
The best of the best
Who messing with the guess
I'm Kobe shooting from the perimeter
Dunkin from the area yea
I score 81 points against another team
I score 61 points against another team
I had a dream I gonna make it on the league
I came in the league to win
If ya tryin stop me
It won't happen
I gonna be on top
Popping champagne with my wife
Having a good life
I won't think about my hood
I want thank you all ya
Ya haters said" I won't make it".
Look at me now I did
I just love you so much haters
young junior hahahaha
C'mon let go
(Verse)
Every summer
My haters keep seein me riding in a new hummer
******* how are you doing
I just miss you so much
Kiss my ***
Ya said I ain't gonna be nobody
******* look at me now
I just got paid
Ya don't have no words to say
Every day I'm just chilling and lettin the money come to me
I'm a addict to success
My wife look so hot in the dress
I just let my stress go away
Poppin champagne
Having a good life
I'm not thinking about my hood
I went to negative to positive nigga
(Beat speaking)
Yo junior, you are a greatest
Yo bring it back bro.
Don't stop and let pop this *******
C'mon let go
(Verse)
Believe is the key
I achieve many things
I told my mama, I gonna be a greatest like mj, magic, pippen, Kareem, bill, and big Shaq
I came young in the game
Ya gonna be the same
I swish to the next lane
Yea I'm going insane
Winning is all I do
Ya better go home
Cause ya won't stop me to reach my goal
Imma teach you how to win
Just follow my lead
I gonna be your nightmare sorrow
Fans callin me hero
My jersey number is zero
Hello baby girl I love you
You look beautiful with your hair net
Yea baby you **** like my diamond chain
All we do is win
Win, win, win like dj Khaled
Girl, you are my motivation
My daughter is my inspiration
I wish my grandpa was here
Everywhere I go
I want him to be on my game
Screaming my name
I keep having a dream
He keep talking to me
And he was proud of me *****
My team and I unbreakable
Youngjuniorforever
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 8:20 AM UTC
Move rack to lowest position,
Set to three seventy-five.
Pour in one and a third cups water,
Sprinkle egg whites (package A),
Blend on LOW till moist.
Beat on high (but remain patient)
Stiff peaks will form when gently
Dunking a spatula into your batter
(Be sure beater is AT REST before checking).
Sprinkle in cake flour (package B)
A little at a time on LOWEST setting
(Don’t forget to scrape the bottom and edges).
Pour batter into your ungreased tube pan,
Cut through batter gently with a butter knife
In a circular motion
To eliminate air bubbles.
Bake for at least thirty minutes
Or until top crust is golden brown
(Ovens vary so keep your eye on it at all times).
Cool by hanging tube pan upside down on bottle,
Loosen by making up and down strokes with spatula or knife.
Gently remove your cake.
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 1:23 PM UTC
(Speaking)
I wanna be the best
I wanna be the best like the rest
I want my name to be on the hall of fame
And I just want to be the greatest kings
I want to win many rings
To be the best
You have to believe
And achieve many things
Ladies and gentlemen
Mr jbird
(Verse)
I'm balling like Kobe
I'm dunking like KD
Greatest 3 pointer like S.curry
I just burry my haters
Rest in peace
I'm so quick like j. Wall
I'm hungry for more championship like Lebron
I'm breaking records like melo
I don't like jello
Hello haters
How are ya doin
Do you miss me
Cause I miss ya too fakers
Hahahaah
Let go
(Speaking)
Yo junior your the best
Bring it back yo
Come on let go
(Verse)
Pass the ball *****
I'm the best
The best of the best
Who messing with the guess
I'm Kobe shooting from the perimeter
Dunkin from the area yea
I score 81 points against another team
I score 61 points against another team
I had a dream I gonna make it on the league
I came in the league to win
If ya tryin stop me
It won't happen
I gonna be on top
Popping champagne with my wife
Having a good life
I won't think about my hood
I want thank you all ya
Ya haters said" I won't make it".
Look at me now I did
I just love you so much haters
young junior hahahaha
C'mon let go
(Verse)
Every summer
My haters keep seein me riding in a new hummer
******* how are you doing
I just miss you so much
Kiss my ***
Ya said I ain't gonna be nobody
******* look at me now
I just got paid
Ya don't have no words to say
Every day I'm just chilling and lettin the money come to me
I'm a addict to success
My wife look so hot in the dress
I just let my stress go away
Poppin champagne
Having a good life
I'm not thinking about my hood
I went to negative to positive nigga
(Beat speaking)
Yo junior, you are a greatest
Yo bring it back bro.
Don't stop and let pop this *******
C'mon let go
(Verse)
Believe is the key
I achieve many things
I told my mama, I gonna be a greatest like mj, magic, pippen, Kareem, bill, and big Shaq
I came young in the game
Ya gonna be the same
I swish to the next lane
Yea I'm going insane
Winning is all I do
Ya better go home
Cause ya won't stop me to reach my goal
Imma teach you how to win
Just follow my lead
I gonna be your nightmare sorrow
Fans callin me hero
My jersey number is zero
Hello baby girl I love you
You look beautiful with your hair net
Yea baby you **** like my diamond chain
All we do is win
Win, win, win like dj Khaled
Girl, you are my motivation
My daughter is my inspiration
I wish my grandpa was here
Everywhere I go
I want him to be on my game
Screaming my name
I keep having a dream
He keep talking to me
And he was proud of me *****
My team and I unbreakable
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 8:16 AM UTC
i couldn't stand the heat,
spent most of the time in the shade,
everyone made fun
of the guy standing by the pool
reading a book, pretending to
be a sundial;
i was called the whiskey-man;
one night i slept outside
and by the time i woke up my glass
of brandy disappeared;
mingled with the "auctioneers"
of a good time; boy one of those
kenyan girls was hot... oomph,
she looked like oiled coal, slimy bits
and raw ***
i know i was a tourist...
played a stupid drinking game with
two english girls, snogged one
at the end of the game, wasn't invited
back to the room for a *********
spent hours at night looking at the tide
splashing the shore, cried at the painting
so alive all the museums and galleries
became graveyards of appreciation;
it was a holiday resort, i admit,
although one bartender asked me to do
a local tour of the place, go clubbing,
supposedly a colonial ******* i was
upon first reading;
but the heat though! god almighty, couldn't
stand the temperature,
i was literally an ice-cream cone most
of the time, took to the shades,
wrote a short story for my grandfather
about an elephant dunking his trunk into
a bottle of brandy...
one day got chatting to a scottish pair
and a russian couple,
told the scottish guy about travis' 12 memories
album,
i was originally asking for a cigarette,
so we drank and chatted about mickey mouse
politics of america...
the scottish guy eventually ran off and jumped
into the kids' shallow pool veering
on blind-drunk-happy...
another time i too jumped into a pool
with my clothes on...
******* this heat...
ha, hmm, those kenyan macaques were funny
esp. on prompt of being fed on the balcony...
but boy that baboon was a menace,
a real anarchist, charged in like a donkey
with meningitis and stole food...
although one baboon had massive haemorrhoids...
and given his fat pinky *** it was even funnier to watch.
oh yeah, and this guy muhammad wanted
to take me to a crocodile sanctuary of his...
i sort of refused the invitation,
and no, i didn't go on the zoological escapade
of a safari to see the Masai tribesmen...
just gave c. g. jung's modern man in search of soul
to one of the caretakers of the resort.
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 7:43 AM UTC
Another day, with you by my side
another day, with the sun shining, warming our skin
a day for adventure, for pleasure and reflection
to be etched into memory for eternity
Walking barefoot over sand,
feeling the warmth seep from over and below
a dip in the cool invigorating water,
a dance of lovers, rippling in the lake
The calm water's embrace enveloping us
to swim, and float and cradle each other
intoxicated with this moment
and the trust of giving yourself
To hold your breath, and submerge
allowing your lungs to empty, bubbles defying gravity
to feel the need for oxygen, and rising to the surface
emerging breathlessly, water dripping from your nose
Seeing your face beaming at me,
sun and love reflecting in your eyes
head bobbing in and out of the water
gazing lovingly at one another
To float, buoyantly, carelessly
while the swallows playfully circle above
dunking into the water, a soothing sip here
and a refreshing dip there
Treading to the beach,
walking heavily on the sand
to collapse into each others arms
and feel the love radiate
Radiating from each other
the sky, sun and lake
as I am listening to the beat of your heart
bees drunkenly bounce from flower to flower
The clouds lazily float above us,
the blue sky, like a surrounding globe
with a leafy and mossy treeline on all sides,
a green outline to this bliss, a speechless vision to behold
Creating the feeling of being at the center
the center of the forest, of the earth
to cherish this moment with you
to hold in our hearts, and never let go
Aug 8, 2012
Aug 8, 2012 at 9:46 PM UTC
Suspicious milk
There when I got home
In a tub
Surrounded by water
Or milk blood
Ostracised from the fridge
Left alone to die
Why?
Did you commit milk atrocities?
****** innocent milk bottles?
Or maybe you're a secret agent
The names skimmed
Semi-skimmed
He's like the FBI in your fridge!
He's like the CIA on your cereal!
He's like the MI5 for your cookies!
Did you get all that
Full fat?
After those Oreos!
With their twisting
Licking
Dunking
Dunking their souls into the blood of our young
Or maybe not
Cow juice, alone on the breakfast bar
Not that far
Milk on the sill, defrosting.
Watching.
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
With baptism, one identifies with The Christ,
mirroring His death, burial and resurrection;
in this symbolic gesture of Faith, one sees a
formal acknowledgment of His gift of Salvation.
This practice, instituted by John the Baptist,
teaches one to reflect on the sacred sacrifice-
that Christ -alone- redeemed all of Humanity
and that His unequaled actions will suffice
as the second Adam, for our enduring redemption.
Even Christ Himself, took this symbolic plunge.
Was this a mere watery dunking of His flesh?
Or did it prepare Him… to be able to expunge
the death penalty of sin for us permanently?
Therefore, I honor His act of propitiation-
by the baptism of my body before witnesses,
as I’m initiated today… into His Holy Nation.
.
.
.
Author Notes
Inspired by:
John 3:25-36
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
There's a party around the block,
Where flamingos run and eggs fall from upstairs.
The roof is tumbling and the pool is overfilled with humans and animals,
There's a zebra and ten monkeys running through the house.
****** *********** is rising everywhere,
To the kitchen and the bathroom, to the backyard and the deck.
Balloons are scattered on the floor,
There's food fights in every room.
There's a car crashed into the wall,
People are running around in togas.
The music is blasting through the glass windows,
Everyone is jugging boos and sniffing toxins.
The bonfire is sparking with Barbie doll heads,
The smell of burning rubber spreads throughout the sky.
People are wild with horse masks on their heads,
They're fist pumping and thumping to the repeated beat.
Males and females are racing around **** in the halls,
Paint ***** and BB Guns are being fired on every window.
Glasses of broken bottles are lost in couches and beds,
People are swinging on chandeliers.
The walls start to buckle and shake,
Cops arrive but are being tazered with their own tazers.
The house is being tee-peed,
No one knows why the tub is on fire.
The music starts to get louder every second,
Tables and chairs are being thrown across the rooms.
There are piggy back rides on the front lawn,
Drug addicts are polluting the air with taboo smoke.
People are sliding down the stairway with helmets and pillows,
Many of the people are hung upside down unexpectedly.
Girls get dragged into the bedrooms,
Fights are happening here and there.
Some people are passed out anywhere,
Others are bungee jumping off the roof.
Furniture is left outside,
Lips are locking in the closet.
Fireworks are going off while people are dunking their heads in water,
Twerking is being done almost everywhere.
The house is a total wreck,
And the sun starts to rise over the horizon.
I don't know about you,
But this party was something new.
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC
small irregular steps, like
a little kid top-toeing towards
a cookie jar, his jar
a lonely lady
buried in her latest ‘good read’
behind her now, his hands
eclipse light, ‘guess who’
**** you’ she moans. his fat ***
teeter-totters on the chairs face,
his eyes catch her shut book,
denoting a ****** title, laughing
he jokes about windmill dunking
it in the tableside wastebasket
scoffing as she claws at the book,
before 180 dunking it in her bag,
which resembles a shelter for some
petty, puny & pathetic dog
she bibble babbles blah blah,
his eyes entranced on her chest
hoping the slightest bump will
blast her ***** through her blouse
like an airbag. distracted
by bowels, he debates cutting
cheese. gas leaks through a forest
of *** hair. overpriced coffee odors
mask the lingering stench as it floats
like a boat through espresso &
cappuccino airways; docking
my attention to a tech boy blinded
by his desktop. to infatuated to notice
the pair of blushing blue eyes blessing him
from a corner table. an old man
at his starboard laughs as he clings to his cane
like it’s the decaying hand
of his deceased wife.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 9:23 PM UTC
*where cello was semi-colon, where violins (always plural, no one's weeping or playing to beg) are colon, where Bach's (church pianos) organs / castrato livers kidneys hearts... where comma was the trebling silver triangles... where full-stop was the composer turning into a conductor, to detach himself from the act of composition and into a drama, a staged drama, a Sisyphus ram against the stable coordinate of perpetuated slam dunking bullseye for only a: knock knock. who's there? knock knock nowhere. nowhere where? here. where what? knock knock open the ******* door!*
i lived to the age of 70,
i loathed hating people,
and i loathed loving them
hence the reason i never married,
i could have lived alone
but the monetary system absolved that
wish...
tribalism would never give us
mozart's symphony no. 40 because
we would be exchanging favours
instead of monetary funds...
via solipsism and the ugly synonym autism...
****** instead of wives... well, there you go...
her eager libido explains much,
as a teenager ****** eager (rhyme rhyme rhyme)
explains her escapism into outliving man;
her satan's bargain truly did favour hair,
oh **** her, while he died a splendid death
aged approx. 30, she with a **** salute
saluted him: i'm worth 90 autumns!
yeah, 90 autumns and arthritis.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 9:28 AM UTC
Rotted soul of good intention,
mine is an apple core
on an old black road
in a holy heat.
Sinner, slow down!
Sinner stop your dancing
and start praying
for your people
-mmmyes-
that they start praying
for you
child.
'Cause it's gonna take a churchyard full
of bake sales,
mmmhmm
and it's gonna take a winter full of galoshes by the church door
whoowee,
it's gonna take a village to save you, child.
Heathen, pull your skirt down!
stop them hips swaying left, slooow,
swaying right, sloooow
as you walk down that dirt road kicking up dust
like you was a young colt running.
Oh it's gonna take a lot saving,
Yessum, it's gonna take a lake a dunking...
Oh but Lord! It's gonna take a lot of praying,
Hallelujah, gonna need a lot of rosaries
to save your eternal life, girl
I am as rotten as a pit of peach,
dried and without yield. no value, no good.
Child, it's gonna take a revival to save this soul.
Mama, start that revival and save your babies soul.
sahn
2/6/15
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 12:02 AM UTC
I wanna run to you in an airport
Like they do in 90s romance movies
Because I miss you and
I’ve been away from home for two years
I want to sit on the beach and explain the landscape that
You know better than I do
In the language it was originally loved in, that
You never bothered to learn
Why would you?
You dip your feet shallowly
Into the water instead of dunking yourself
Like I do, down up down up down
Because you’ll be back tomorrow
And I’ll spend fractions of me
Waiting for a call or a text
For 20 bucks to send you
To breathe plumeria-scented air
From the oil on the skin of your neck
For a picture of the freckles on the webbing
between your index and thumb, and the ring
That I bought you before I left so that in the pictures
you post with your white boyfriend
I’m there on your finger
So when he’s teaching you the ‘local’ lifestyle
I’m there on your finger
So when you island hop for a surfing class
You keep me on your finger, where I can feel the waves.
I want to come home but I can’t, not before
I buy you a new ring, out here
in the empty expanse of a Where’s Waldo puzzle
It has to be
Something expensive, something durable
That won’t tarnish in the island
humidity, something that your
San-Francisco friends will ooh and ahh at
Because I want to see you wearing it when I get home.
I’ve been away from home for fifteen years
I return in my dreams, but the soil
doesn’t feel right, and the love isn’t how
my mother’s father’s father described it
At the beach, lots of people swim, but no one else
Keeps their head under and lets the water breathe life into their hair.
Lets the water into their mouth, chokes, then does it again.
But I like the way you
Dipped your feet in when you watched me
Leave, on a boat chasing Troy
Venus my northern star
As I enter the storm
My boat floats through the violence,
against Poseidon’s abundant will
because my sail made up of duct-taped exam scores
And half-organized sermons
Is mightier than any of his sons
I’ve been away since 700 BCE
But you’ll still know me when I come home
Dec 19, 2024
Dec 19, 2024 at 1:03 AM UTC
She dribbles up and down the driveway
A red handball that bounces up
With the same vivacity as her heart.
“Come on, Grandpa!” she will say,
When she realizes I'm smiling over my coffee cup,
And I'll get up to join her in my soul's old art.
With a rather new stiffness I'll throw toward the net,
And my mind goes to what was and what's not yet:
From dunking with friends in schoolyard courts
To each banana bread breakfast and protein shake snack,
To the luxuries of life and vacation resorts
Of stardom and fame before the injury of my back...
But she will be the most famous star,
I'll buy her a basketball for Christmas this year.
She'll pass me up, be better by far,
And she'll see something glorious when she looks in the mirror...
The ball hits the roof, seems I aimed too high
And I wonder, again, that cursed question: why?
I put my arms down and let out a sigh
As she chases after the ball.
I turn to sit back down, get back to my chair
When she runs up and pulls the back of my hair,
She pouts a little, saying, “No, that's not fair!”
It begins to dawn, I haven't lived since that fall...
The fall that broke my back,
The fall that broke it all,
The fall that took me from riches to lack,
The fall that keeps me from standing tall...
“Shoot it, Grandpa!” she calls to me
And what can I really do but comply,
I shoot and hit the roof, missing very clearly,
But she breaks into applause, and I begin to cry:
For she is my biggest fan,
Though the smallest in stature of them all,
And her applause is all I need
To look again in the mirror, first time since the fall.
She shows me I am worthy
Of affection, I am my granddaughter's glory.
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 8:48 PM UTC
when i was little,
i thought that oyster crackers were made from oysters
so i refused to eat them
because oysters are gross
when i was little,
i liked dunking my head into a pool
because wet hair was fun hair
when i was little,
i wore a tutu
or i wore nothing
none of those things hold true anymore
oysters are actually pretty good
and i can't have soup without crackers
wet hair freezes on the way to my car
and let's be honest
i don't look good in a tutu
and i sure as hell don't want to look at myself naked.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 1:35 AM UTC
You were never meant for this
Grocery cart, bags of bones, pillow case
Dunking your head in the paper bags of letdown
Side street, gray walk, go’s and stops
Ticks and tocks
You were never meant for this
Fingerless gloves, holes in jeans, newspaper blankets
With words of people far more successful
Building money with their hands
Like a distorted counterfeit where it’s the priority
Above all that is breathing
You stare at their smudged pictures,
Their smiles full of cash, the green leaking between their teeth
Their suits all straight with hands out shaking
They stand around
The numbers increase
The excitement booms
That was supposed to be you
Who you once were
On Wall Street, drinking the coffee of accomplishment
Out of silver mugs with silver spoons
But you lost it all didn’t you?
The greed overtook you like a drug
Messing with your brain and judgment
Now look at you,
Vagabond, penny cup, ghost air
You were never meant for this,
You were supposed to be like those men in the paper
Those men on the streets
With their Bluetooth and briefcases
Stepping on cracks
You were never meant for this,
But you crashed
Got caught up in the money, the games, the race
Now look at you
Grocery cart, bag of bones, pillow case
Just jumping in defeat between the space
You were never meant for this.
Now look at you.
Feb 3, 2012
Feb 3, 2012 at 9:46 AM UTC
what would you do
if the world came down on me?
crushed me?
weighed me down?
almost killed me?
save me?
lies.
you looked at me,
then turned away,
a bullet straight through my heart.
what part of saving me
was gripping my throat?
what part of saving me
was pushing me down?
what part of saving me
was dunking my face into acid water
and i screamed and cried and told you to stop
but i loved you too much to yell.
i guess it's my fault
for letting you be my world
when you were the one that
crushed me
weighed me down
almost killed me.
killed me?
true.
you looked at me,
and turned away
a bullet placed in my heart.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
Reading a friend's poetry
and learning about myself--
learning new articulations.
Switching to menthols
for as long as this cold lasts.
Realizing my body wants nicotine
but my mouth wants smoke,
that very often one, not the other,
will be satisfied--that is what's in conflict.
I am trying to be a child,
and I could go philosophically about that
or regressively--
Sort of, it is not the bottle itself I sip
which makes me the rosy ribald randy carouser
but what I put back into the bottle then the trashbin
which displaces the liquid up to my lips.
But regardless of my intents and drinking habits,
I'll still be splashing in the water,
running along the edge of the pool
building a current, a whirlpool
compelling my friends into water,
tackling and dunking and pull them underneath,
and gasping together for breath,
swept along and swelling
hoping to summon a Maelstrom
to engulf me and all.
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 3:14 PM UTC
Today is "Poem In Your Pocket" day,
Did you read one to a stranger, or two or more, today?
in your covering pocket it should have been
tell them everything today what you did pen.
Reading to everyone along my path everyday
forever in my pocket my favorite poem doth stay
dunking my dipping pen in embalming fluid
cause I dream dreams that are lucid...
(SirCARSr. 4-18-13)
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
sitting across from me
was you and your big smile,
the way your eyes would squint as we were
laughing about the different oreo flavors
watching you pull out packs and packs of them
eagerly from your backpack
dunking it in a purple shake -- the sweet taste
of ube and the little pearls sitting at the bottom,
our table filled and soon our stomachs,
the steam of freshly cooked rice and the sizzle of pork sisig,
the clanking of the utensils and the sound of the conversations
you started,
i can hear it all in my head.
a scene that almost played out but didn't,
a moment i wish took place,
excitement was now a shade of dark blue
and the plans we've made turned into dust.
i wish i've known what was going on inside your head
and here I am talking to you in mine
whispering for you to come home
but you are.
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 4:34 PM UTC
I made a bowl of soup for myself tonight.
Red bean, kale, and quinoa.
I toasted two slices of bread,
buttered them,
let them cool.
I planned on dunking them
in the soup
to sop up leftover broth.
While the canned food heated
in the red saucepan
on the first burner
to the right,
I did simple tasks.
Recycled bottles from days before,
put away the dishes in the drying rack,
fed the cat.
I paced back and forth,
in my purple socks,
from my bedroom
to the kitchen,
listening to an old record
that sounds like nostalgia.
I did simple tasks.
Small, achievable things.
Self care comes
in many forms.
Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
Ref blows whistle: (Full Time Out)
Me-
My man curled, screen, then tried to do a slip.
Size you in, and hit you really good in your lips.
No calls guaranteed, from these wack funky referees.
I’m ready to turn up on the court, bro, down with me?
Juice-
Hell yeah my guy! ****** off and attitude kinda tight.
What a mess, Aye, Zay let’s put these boys to rest.
Me-
Straight facts! Next play they’re running flat.
The next time he do that, we’ll lay him on his back.
Time to respond. I'll get the ball, hit a crossover, and pass it through.
Hit your shimmy dance, shoot and move, shoot and move.
Juice-
***** you ain’t got to say -ish!
I been ballin’ since 5th grade with the same tricks!
With the ball gripped, and a fake little drive.
Average 14p-10r-5a + an OG can still fly.
Just observe, I’m about to send these boy my regards.
Have the crowd singing, “Oh my Lord!”
Me-
Bet fam, love your crazy attitude!
We gone gang up on these rookies and beat them by 62!
Abuse them, with the upmost tempo vicious.
Dunk, score, scream and shout make them feel like quitting.
On Defense, guard #2 the short chubby dude.
I’ll guard #32 that look like a raccoon.
Go man to man with the little peasants.
When it’s all said and done, give these fools zero leg room exits.
Juice-
I'm dunking on chumps like O’Neal , offense-defense real!
Got ice in my veins from the thrill when I block and steal!
These little boys can’t stop me for -ish!
With my corner 3-pt nasty wet jumper, they gone have to recover.
Yup, make them suffer. We dangerous!
Whole team will lose confidence dawg, big trust!
Now let’s just chill, relax, stay focus no relapse,
watch our backs, but aye fam… where the ball at?
Ref blows whistle: (Ball in!)
Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 8:43 PM UTC