"eyeballed" poems
Well I drive the speed limit,
When I'm on the blacktop,
Because ya ain't gonna know,
If yer gettin eyeballed by the cops.
When I see the gravel,
Comin' up around the bend,
I turn the corner, hit the gas,
And my tires start to spin.
I get my get 'em up stuck,
In my pickup truck.
The gravel gets my guages,
goin' up, up, up.
In my pickup truck,
Ain't no slowin' me down.
I love my pickup truck,
Kickin' up dust clouds.
If it's rainin', you're complainin',
About the mud and the muck,
But ya know that I'll be playin,
In my pickup truck.
I get my get 'em up stuck,
In my pickup truck.
The mud gets my guages,
goin' up, up, up.
In my pickup truck,
Ain't no slowin' me down.
I love my pickup truck,
Throwin mud around.
When your rollin' around,
On the ice and in the snow
Sittin' in the ditch,
your car don't wanna go.
Who's the one ya call,
To get ya unstuck,
Ring-a-ding-a-ling-a-ling,
Ya need my pickup truck.
I get my get 'em up stuck,
In my pickup truck.
The winter gets my guages,
goin' up, up, up.
In my pickup truck,
Ain't no slowin' me down.
I love my pickup truck,
Haulin' people 'round,
Time to move is here,
And I back up to your door.
Packing out your things,
Until my truck can't fit no more.
I get my get 'em up stuck,
In my pickup truck.
Helpin' friends gets my guages,
goin' up, up, up.
In my pickup truck,
Ain't no slowin' me down.
I love my pickup truck,
Helpin' friends movin' 'cross town
I can't get enough,
Of my pickup truck.
If I had to do without it,
then my life would ****
Ya know my life would ****
Without my pickup truck.
I would feel like half a man,
Without my pickup truck.
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 4:55 PM UTC
Camelot was really a place
where you parked camels –
yeah, the Egyptians traded everywhere;
and sure the round table was true –
King Arthur asked Sir Circumference to
fashion him a round table
because, as a matter of strategy,
it’s never good to be cornered
And what did the Egyptians do
after they parked their camels at Camelot?
Oh, they enjoyed the knight life
and the Musical
and they eyeballed Guinevere and Julie Andrews
So really, in spite of Thomas Malory
and Richard Harris and Richard Burton
in spite of all skills literary and vocal,
and Hollywood special effects -
Camelot was just a night club;
the English have always loved a good drink
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 5:31 AM UTC
I
My five-five-fingers of my hands
Zestfully lived In serenity.
The three thrill fingers of my right hand:
Thumb, index finger and middle finger
Stoutly lived civilly and gleefully
Amongst her BROTHERS:
They rested gleefully upon the placid,
SHARP-SABLE-POINTED-DART.
II
Sharp sable pointed-dart;
Perched in the midst of the three thrill fingers
And laid rest upon the hungry,
****** DUSKY-SHEET, which sprawled
Bear flat on the glossy desk.
The glossy desk accompanying the earth
The earth accompanying its depth.
III
The other two fingers of my right hand:
Ring finger and little finger
Calmly leisure, plopped on the hungry,
****** dusky-sheet
And lent ears to the Sharp-sable-pointed-dart,
Sharp-sable-pointed-dart,
Muttering vignettes of yesterday
Muttering vignettes of today
Muttering vegnettes of tomorrow.
Upon the glossy desk
My five fingers of my left hand too
Laid rest, and eyeballed the sharp-sable-pointed-dart,
Muttering deep thoughts.
IV
Look,
All you who waded through lines:
All you who unearth the heart
Of this earth, hunting for treasures
Pore over my ten fingers.
My ten fingers,
As pure as a full ****** moon.
I have dunked deep my five fingers
Of my right hand with my progenitors
In a bowl of sweet dishes
And nibbled singed YAMS amidst
The thriving vegetables.
V
But my forefinger of my left hand
Never been raised above
To curse the heavens
Never been raised up to pinpoint
My progenitors' homeland
Never had it tasted any depravity
And never will it be licked
Or bit by the savage butchers of Meat
Who loved to fatten themselves on ******
And gratified their heart with
Juicy cup of blood and gore.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 4:34 AM UTC
Death waits beyond the gates and stuck on pikes or up on spikes,the heads of malefactors.
Eyes ****** out by greedy beaks and tongues torn by the laughing winds,ears that hear no rivers flow or travellers as they go to and fro across the bridge.
Skulduggery and thuggery hand in hand the outlaw land across the Thames,tarts and carts and herring bones and fish wives heading off to homes beyond the liberty,where lawlessness is more or less the way things are,
and a penny a *** of gin is a lot but for twopence you get one free,
the ribald are eyeballed and marked as fair game and as the fayre starts up on the ice,
everyone gets a slice of the quince as the fey boys mince down on mincing lane and head to the borough to join in the game.
London by nature and London by name and someone to scrub the bloodstains from the hands of those who hang loose in the
outlaw lands.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 3:55 AM UTC
I keep my feet firmly planted
The ground is my only ally now
My knees tremble as if the world were crumbling
Beneath my ten exhausted toes
Maybe if I just stare off into space
The moments will slip by quicker
And she won’t notice that I’m late
To the only thing that matters to her
-
Maybe she’ll believe I’ve been here from the start
Or if she already does, my breath might slow
I ran with all my might
But time is hardly on my side when my tie won’t tie
And my laces won’t lace
Did she see me yet?
Is she’s waiting on that stage?
Waiting for her turn to chirp her tune
-
I wait for her name to be called
Hoping she hasn’t eyeballed me in faceless crowd
She’s a shining solo star
And I’m just the wondering weary witness
Fear was my drive and pulse
But relief was not there to calm my hammering heart
Her precious name did not ring in my ears
For I missed her tones in time by a mile
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 12:04 PM UTC
Thane of the Glamis Arena
Doyen of constitutionalism
Chikara che Zanu
The villager who dared to challenge,
Hope-monger, democrat,
Courageous fighter,
Patriot to the core,
Always leading from the front.
With intolerance on the rise you stood up
When incompetence grew you spoke up
When inflation turned to hyper you jumped in,
and tamed it.
When fear became the air,
you eyeballed it.
Yours is the courage of legions,
they will sing of your name for generations,
To your remembrance, they will build monuments.
I send a humble request to the heavens,
a whisper on the wings of the winds,
may the gods grant you more,
More health! More years! and More strength.
Get well soon Captain Courageous.
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 8:29 AM UTC
I've noticed most kids date their entries
I'm not
I refuse to keep tract of which day
******** hits the fan
Like freight trains on a one way collision course
With biochemical waste
By the way the names Joshua
Just yesterday my dad called me queer
That I'm no longer his son
Just because I'm gay
He doesn't understand
I was born this way
And listening to Lady Gaga's song doesn't really help
It just ****** him off
And leaves me in the corner of my room
Crying because nobody understands me
Every gay person at school is in the closet
Afraid of the criticism
Afraid of run ins with the jocks
Diary I kissed a guy today
We were alone in the gym bathroom
He eyeballed me down
It was after P.E
We were taking showers and he kissed me
I wanted so much more
But we knew that was unlikely
We scheduled a date later on in the week
I think things might be turning around for me
I was wrong
I WAS SO ******* WRONG
HE PLAYED ME
I WAS JUST A PAWN IN HIS STUPID GAME
HIM AND HIS FRIENDS
HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND AND A BABY
THEY BET HIM $40 JUST TO DO IT
That ******* piece of **** will get it
So when I calmed down yesterday
I thought of all the ways I could get back at them
ALL OF THEM
The jocks, the cheerleaders, the whole school body
And I figured it out
There is a farm by my house
Maybe a mile down the road
I can **** a goat
Take the blood and write each and every one of their names
On the gym floor
They all think I'm satanic already
So I figured I throw in some Latin
Make a pentagram and slit my wrist
That should scare the hell out of them
I'll watch from my special place in hell for this
So I'm almost done with all my work
I don't know how I'll get rid of you diary
You have a gothic look to you
So if they see you
They'll think its some satanic book
Well goodbye diary
You're the only one thing that understood and listened to me
I wonder why that is
I guess I'll never know
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 9:19 AM UTC