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Riz Mack Dec 2023
am fae a toon that's done so bad
they gave it twa D's

whar the future greets
o' barren streets
on starless nights
an' the same ald wind

a suppose
ah wi kin dae is sing

an' sing wi dae
but no in tune
for ev'ry uphill
there's anither twa doon

an' some *****
howlin' awa' at the moon

it's quite the place meh toon
am gona quit the place quite soon
as I finish writin' this doon

an' tak' a last wee look
at the failin' toon
that helped write this book
take that, spellcheck
Declan Mills Jun 2015
It’s a little bit of something

It’s a little bit of somewhere

It’s a little bit of someone

Singing ‘Hallelujah, Take me there.’

There’s a little boy waitin’
And he’s holding on tight.
His open eyelids failin’
Him before the day’s first light.

There’s three men waitin’
They’re walking all night.
By the end of the page
They’re dazed, praising what’s
Before their eyes.

A young woman is wakin’

Each night with a fright.

Her room she’s pacin’

Facing fears about her own little life.

There’s an old man waitin’.

Pots o’ tea all night.

He’s alone in the country

Without company, or sugar or sight.

There’s a little bit of anger
There’s a little bit of pain
There’s a little bit of loving
Smoothing over us all
And bringing us back again

It’s a little bit of something

It’s a little bit of somewhere

It’s a little bit of someone

Singing ‘Hallelujah, Take me there.’
science is tryin
but failin for lyin
fallin behind when
your "whats" let the "whys" in

wiser unwired
you couldn't explain why the white light is blinding
why the brain is a function but real thought's in the mind
real collapses
folds into quantum
falls back in your lap kids
beyond synapses,
trackin atlas lookin right at ya
take naps on your textbooks cause the answers are backwords
fold all the colors in half and get left building blackward
halfwits and hat tricks, half of the last wish

the speed of light is firstly faster than sound
but which came first the lost or the found
i've got an opinion, here i'll just jot it down
i like to think about not thinking
Well there’s Hooverville
   on the edge of the river
haint nuttin boot flimsy cardboard
   e’en with clothes will shiver
waiting for tension to be released
   like a arrow in a taut quiver

major organs ready to burst open
   cuz day r all a failin'
unless salvation does da liver
from a stingy farmer
   nada one of him a giver

Hence a goin to Cali for n’ya
in battered up truck n wailin wah wah
ta feed da chill n beasts o burr den –
   ‘cept un shaw

if me pa
will ever appear on Oprah
whar guest’s literary car –
   rears into grand prix hoopla

An win free dim lifts us lock a hawk,
   this kid rock will nah
dat he suffered faw a distant few cha
migrants we may be – butta we bah
dog on judas priest, Christ and allah

Rose of Sharon wool extend
   da family tree
dat ma will live to see
re:

charging the Joad jalopy
   in part from me
tink rin hands dat like ta mess
   with oil hand stains
one mo scar – craning neck 2 earn

An huh tha red badge of courage
   upon this Okie
hunched o’er with stiff back
   while wounded knee

continually bunged up with utter glee
at engine cough fin smoke
   to *** us free
whar we kin sally in da pacific fields yipeee.
Kasti Mar 2019
worthwhile but hard to achieve;

                                              a thing that can never be accomplished.

            Falling,                              ­                                                  
              ­                                     Fa l l i ng                          F all ing
                      F a ll ing,
                                         Fallin,
           Failin g,               Failing,
               Fallin g,
                                Fal lin,
                                                            ­   Fallng,

                                                        ­ I fell.

Your finger drew my lips as fate killed us all.

                                                       how could have this worked if it was doomed from the start?

                                                      For­ you,
                                                      my dear
                                                            ­                                     i give my all,
i give my love.
                                                           ­                   my fate
                                  my heart.


                                                For you my dear,
                                                       my true,
                                                       my love,
                                                           ­ no.
                                                For I cannot love

                                                           You.
I can't remember when I wrote this
Bard May 2020
Posturing with a burger king crown
King has a nice ring a nice sound
But as much as I grasp even at my last
Final gasp of life I'll die in the low cast

Eat glass my thoughts are cosmic
But my body is earthly and sick
Thoughts of supremacy flow arrogantly
Reality is that's a fallacy thoughts fall flatly

Big fish in a small pond but just a bottom feeder
Drift aimlessly but wanna think I'm a leader
Talk big but I ride around in a one seater
Really lived that life but never had a heater

I can say proudly I've never caught a body
But quietly I have poisoned somebody
Dope dealin addiction feeding on the block
Just selling mush and that smoke never rock

Still took mans paycheck when the rents due
Slid em the product and fed their flue
Killing em slowly for profit in my pocket
Small time pounds I'd stock it and move it

Re-up from a college girl with Mexico plugs
Still worked that 9 to 5 could never be a ****
Just a petty criminal surviving on the scraps
Get fast food while bumpin gangster rap

I'd shoplift eggs when money was short
When rice and beans was all I could afford
Needed more, desire turned me sour
Shift managers had me scraping to petty power

Delusion of grandeur in a dish pit it didn't sit
Couldn't humble myself almost bit it
Pride killed my mind, body dead in the grind
Joints poppin body failin, drugs melting mind

Suicidal thoughts when reality didn't match
The life I wanted was always out of reach
No chance at a home and a that Mercedes
Just traps debts and loans maybe I'm crazy

Maybe I'm bad with money, that's funny
Got help from affluence got lucky
In one year saved 15 racks once out of the trap
Glad I never took that shot at a dirt nap

Who knew the answer to making money
Wasn't work or effort just being lucky
Knowing somebody not trapped with a hand out
Took it and pulled myself out of the ****** plot

— The End —