"gator" poems
Thank you ~
for a life not to trade
blessings, in spades
tight spaces
behind laundry doors
packed closets
and open drawers
gator tails, tarnished brass
cracks in kitchen sliding glass
wet towels, withering plants
foundation filled
with carpenter ants
buckets piled with
shoes and tags
village clothes
and saddlebags
peeling paint
and broken walls
****** seats
in bathroom stalls
clogged pantry
frigid rooms
table scribe
and carbon fumes
comfort capsules
empty tanks
broken limbs
from children’s pranks
**** finger
double tongue
long goodbyes
and sidewalk dung
cluster flies
chavie’ clique
accompanying
the hypocrite
cracked back
and hidden smiles
chalk on board
with mr miles
atomic wedgies
closing doors
wrotten eggs
and open sores
jaw jack
nasty folk
dinner calls
for pig in poke
penny pinchers
double dip
yellow mouth
and silver tip
brown nosers
thick red tape
paper cuts
and pimple nape
gallivants
so out of norm
the joy of life…
in basic form
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
Ye evar 'eard oda' masta' inna swamps?
E'a man hund wid 'is hands. . .take down a gator inna fide?
Yeah ah-boy, he a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
Issue you'a hundin' widout a ricel? You's a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
Ain't nah trapping, nor'a line, no kedjewel, or time,
-jussa' body inna swamp you's a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
Swimmin' inna wad-eh got skin made-o' armah,
-inna mud, inna grasses, eh-no teachin' it in classes,
strike wid juss a knife inna hand he's a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
Issue you'a hundin' widout a ricel? You's a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
No ricel, no Glock, no light out innna night,
-jussa' body inna swamp you's a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
If you's can **** widout a ricel you's a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 11:07 PM UTC
Hers was the first face I found
freshman year at FSU.
I'll always remember that garish orange and green gator shirt,
and pin with the picture of a bulldog,
hanging from a noose.
I thought, oh Jeez, she's got school spirit,
and I shuddered at the image,
of cheerleaders, and sports stars, recieving preferential treatment,
but my first impression was far from the mark.
She had a smile for miles and eyes to match.
And a laugh that could shatter a frown.
And she laughed any chance she got.
The few pictures I have left of her,
she is laughing and smiling in each...
That big toothy smile,
and that magical laugh...
I remember the first time she kissed me.
I was playing my guitar on campus,
back when everybody did it,
not just pretentious **********
trying to show off.
She came up behind me,
and did the old hands over the eyes routine,
and of course I knew her voice immediately.
She turned my head and kissed me,
for the first time,
and I could hear the whispering,
and feel everyone's eyes on me,
and it felt pretty **** good.
How I wished someone had snapped a picture,
for the FSView, with the caption
" Future valedictorian kisses scruffy hippy freshman.
Entire student body baffled."
I was baffled.
She was the talk of the campus,
she spoke her mind always,
and she was active all over the campus,
doing this and that.
I asked her one day,
"Why do you make your life so complex,
when do you rest?"
and she said
"My life used to be complex, because I made it that way.
But believe it or not, with all I do around campus,
really my life is simple and fun. If I didn't love what I am doing
I would stop Will. Life is too short for complexity."
I laughed, and I thought to myself,
this woman is more complex than she lets on.
We went out for my entire freshman year,
but she graduated my sophmore year,
and she got a job in London, and she moved away that summer.
I said I would visit...I never did..
She said she would write...she did, once,
to tell me she was getting married,
she even invited me, but of course I didn't go..
She enclosed a photo of her and her fiance,
and it was clear what she saw in him..
he had a smile almost as big as hers,
and of course she was smiling too..
Of all the images burned into my memory
that picture is the one that hurts me most.
I wrote back, wishing her luck, and I told her I couldn't come,
I never heard from her again, but I prayed that night,
that he would treat her right, and if he took away her smile,
I prayed he would suffer, until he put it back.
Every time I close my eyes, I see that picture...
that smile...
I hope she's smiling, even as I write these words.
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 10:11 AM UTC
You aren't big ****
'till you're on a stick,
not even legitimate
like gator, hotdogs, sausage and chicken.
A stick gets your mouth waterin'
and your tongue lickin'
you can get your veggies on a shish-kabob
and cotton candy handed to you at any sport
or circus,
we even got religious services about servin'
this person on a stick!
Wanna be famous? Get your wish
and put somethin' on a stick--
the get rich quick types stick 'em up their ***
while the rest of us gather
at fairs and carnivals to mindlessly laugh
at jugglers, clowns and ride circular rides.
All the while snackin' on somethin' on a stick.
Aug 18, 2012
Aug 18, 2012 at 4:22 PM UTC
In the South of Florida
In the middle of the swamp
There's a little dance we all do
Called the Alligator Chomp
It gets your arms a flapping
And a tapping of the toes
Right along side the cedar stump
In the middle of the boat
Form your fingers into gator teeth
Then slap your hands out front
That's there's what we call in these parts
The Alligator Chomp
The swamp gets rather lively
It's a scene like nothing else
As the gators keep in beat
With the slapping of the tails
Never stop the arms from flapping though
That'd be your last mistake
Instead of the Alligator Chomp
You'd become Alligator Bait
It happens all to often
When someone falls off of the boat
They sink straight to the bottom
Into some alligators throat
We surely do miss our friends
As do their wives and kids
We ain't seen hide nor hair of them
Since their last gator dance
So if you find yourself in Florida
In the middle of the swamp
We'd love to have you join us
In some good old fashion Alligator Chomp
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
pieces of flotsam
soak and float on the paper,
jetsam thrown to lighten
the load,
or goad,
the alligator, away
the guttural noises, sound like harsh
commentary the closer the
gator
is allowed to get,
not wanting to look over the shoulder,
but stop in for biting remarks,
the gator's teeth are so large and famous
they have names and voices;
"punctuation or punctures, I can help"
"point of view tch, tch, tch"
"your grammar needs work"
"doubt you will finish"
"no one will read IT"
"you will never find the right word"
"is your audience a six year old"
"borrrrring"
"what a croc"
"are you enjoying what you are doing?"
"successful writers are all published"
"you call that a sentence, keep it up and it will be a death sentence "
"how many tenses can you misuse in a paragraph"
and these are the names of some of the smaller teeth,
the molars, are more than a mouthful,
have polar names, that would leave anyone cold,
even the bold,
and shall not be put in print,
they bring out the PTSD,
imprinted for eternity, by
the gator which
comes at the sounds
of splashing, flailing, and failing,
as the pounding of the heart,
the deepened breathing,
as the ink from
the pen, unfiltered,
leaves nerves and veins exposed,
while leaving to find home, a safe haven, a storybook ending,
away from the gator's keen sense of
overt criticism, intended to gut,
and eviscerate, cutting remarks,
putdowns to hold down and under,
the piece that IT is trying to tear off
while spinning or shaking the head
side to side, which is both NO!
and to bash the will, the self-esteem, into little pieces
of me...
and my worst enemy,
my internal, infernal editor,
with the voracious appetite for self-defeating
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 12:08 AM UTC
In 1814 we took a little trip
Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississipp'
We took a little bacon and we took a little beans
And we caught the ****** British in the town of New Orleans
We fired our guns and the British kept a coming
There wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago
We fired once more and they began to running
Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico
We looked down the river and we seen the British come
And there must have been a hundred of them beating on the drums
They stepped so high and they made their bugles ring
We stood behind our cotton bales and didn't say a thing
Old Hickory said we could take 'em by suprise
If we didn't fire a musket 'til we looked 'em in the eyes
We held our fire 'til we seen their faces well
We opened up our squirrel guns and really gave 'em
Well they ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles
And they ran through the bushes where the rabbits couldn't go
They ran so fast the hounds couldn't catch 'em
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico
We fired our cannon 'til the barrel melted down
Then we grabbed an alligator and we fought another round
We filled his head with cannonballs and powdered his behind
And when we touched the powder off the gator lost his mind
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
Now sit there, just a minute, hold on, hear my tale
for just a minute.
One of humanity, sincerity, tragedy
Of when I was there, live from the square.
Jackson Square.
Not the one of Coin Coin, the Nevilles, the Toussaints,
Allen or L’Overture.
This is one of a momma and her baby
in 2008.
Three years, three years,
three years after the flood, three years after the storm.
Let me paint you a picture of Orleans as it stood one day in 2008
as it stands today.
2008, NewOrleans:
What happens here, no one will remember in the morning.
The buskers, the tunes, why, even the voodoos get the blues.
Walking towards Bourbon
The lights, the sin, the history
New Orleans, where life ain't so easy.
There’s a family down there who don't survive so peacefully.
You can see them if you walk down Canal St., leisurely.
There, sleeping on the courthouse stairs,
A mother and her child who own only the clothes they wear.
The boy was young, elementary-aged
Curious too, I could hear him ask questions:
"Mama, why don't we got food?"
And her reply,
"Son, that's just the way it is, life's just hard for me and you."
Sitting there on the courthouse stairs.
I take my place on the opposite side of the stoop,
Watching the crowds go by.
The women in their high-heeled shoes
The men with their shirts half-open.
Grenades in hand, ***** in the blood,
Pockets full of cash and hearts full of lust
New Orleans
What happens there, no one will remember come morning.
The buskers, the tunes, why, even the voodoos get the blues.
There’s a family on vacation there
In such a sinful city, a family.
White, middle-class, suburban, all too WASP-y.
mom, dad, a daughter and a son,
elementary aged, with a pop in his cheerful step,
On the way to a nice restaurant
gon’ eat crawfish, gator, red beans and rice, jambalaya.
They’ll forget to tip the waiter.
New Orleans,
What happens here, no one will remember come morning.
That happy family, walking down Canal St.
Like walking out the gates of hell
Where the lost souls sit on the stairs
Begging for something, anything at all
The happy family had ‘bout reached the courthouse when the young boy asked
"Daddy, why don't they have any food?"
His father covered his son’s eyes with his white hand and replied,
"Here son, let's go and find a toy for you to buy."
And the kid shrank after seeing this mom and her son
His innocent eyes died and he said,
"I don't want a toy. I don't want anything"
They walked on by, the happy boys' head turned the whole time,
those eyes. Stuck on the family that was stuck on the stairs
Mom dad, a daughter and a son,
Elementary-aged with a slump in his sunken step.
Now, in my mind I wonder:
was it more monumental that my life changed
or that a had life changed before my eyes
New Orleans, two thousand and eight.
New Orleans, today,
what happens there, no one will remember come morning.
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 11:35 AM UTC
The weight of this backpack
has increased ten fold
with the attack brought on
by a typed out, computer emotioned
decision
I can already see my friends
slipping through my fingers,
my sunshine dream setting
in the distance,
"goodbye" "goodbye"
instead of "see you later"
went from a Gator
to a dropout
to a hopeful Mustang
to a head hung in shame
with no one to blame
so long bright beaches
hello again rainy day
Bay
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC
Wandering through the bayou,
wrapped in its eerie embrace.
Mysterious and strange,
a magical place.
Never seeming to change,
even as seasons come and go,
swampy waters ebb to and fro.
Like long-lost daughters,
gnarled courtly cypress trees,
rise from black murky waters.
Draped lovingly in Spanish moss,
swaying softly in the breeze.
Butterflies seem to float across,
as gentle winds ruffle their leaves.
Bouquets of wild hibiscus fill the air,
mingled with sweet azaleas blooming there.
Bullfrogs croak and crickets chirp,
the bayou is awash with soothing music.
As dragonflies flit the cattails, elusive,
water moccasins slithering at your feet
or lurk above you in the trees.
Just as, the sun begins to sink low,
comes the faint sound of a fiddle and bow.
The gator comes out of hiding,
rising from the dark waters below.
Looking for his meal and smiling,
with snapping jaws, a deer is caught,
then taken below where he will rot.
The moon rises high into the night,
as fireflies glow in the twilight.
A voodoo queen slips into sight,
with gnarled hands, she rolls the bones.
Whispering cryptic words, she softly moans.
Tenderly she caresses her snake,
wrapped around and about her neck.
A coon-hound whoops it up.
The gnarled trees cast spooky shadows.
Is that the ghostly apparition of Jean Lafitte?
Who managed to escape prison and gallows.
Did you bury your treasure in the water or weeds?
As the wind moans softly, time to turn home,
where you can fill your belly with spicy gumbo.
ALesiach © 10/12/2014
Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 8:51 PM UTC
I went into the pro shop
Paid my fees and turned to leave
The man behind the counter said
"you're new here...I believe"
I said I'd never played here
He said "there's things that you should know"
"I'll grab us both a coffee"
"Listen close...before you go"
"The first two holes are easy"
"nothing there gets in the way"
"no bunkers, and no water"
"just the way to start the day"
"It gets tougher on the third hole"
"There's some birds up in the trees"
"They buzz you while you're putting"
"Remember...birds on three"
"The fourth hole is a dog leg"
"It has a river on the right"
'Avoid the yellow caution tape"
"We had a drowning there last night"
I swallowed hard and stared back
"A drowning out on four"
"That's right" he said "don't worry"
"At least it's not the wild boar"
"The WILD BOAR?" I said aloud
He said "he's on five through seven"
"Don't worry much on those holes"
"He's been sighted on eleven"
"The eighth is fairy simple"
"A par three that you can reach"
"Water moccasins in the swamp"
"And lots of spiders in the beach"
"The greens are all receptive"
"They hold well, just come in high"
'But, land is short...there's quicksand"
"So...go in there...you die"
"you make the turn, and grab a dog"
"I give them out for free"
"The owner says it's wasteful"
"But, I say...just let it be"
"The tenth hole is a par five"
"It' one to reach in two"
"But if you put it out of bounds"
"I'd leave it...if I were you"
"you know about the wild boar"
"so eleven gets a pass"
"he's got some bite, that sumbitch"
"He might gore you in the ***
"Now twelve...is quite a pickle"
"I'll tell you watch out now.....not later"
"We have a situation there"
"It's fairway's full of gator"
"What the hell is that you say"
"There's a gator out there then"
"Today there is but somedays son"
"You can meet as much as ten"
"You must be mad" I yelled at him
"I'm leaving...I'll not play"
"on a course so full of danger"
"There's no way...just no way"
I asked him for a refund
he pointed up above his head
"no refunds, only rainchecks"
"and then only if you're dead"
I sacrificed my forty bucks
And left, out to my car
The pro just sat and smiled
"I've scared off thirty one so far"
I know I'll not return here
not with friends or by myself
not with spiders in the bunkers
Or gators on the twelfth.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 11:12 AM UTC
Something prehistoric does arise
approaching Mother Gator's birthing mound.
Reptilian brain, primordial pair of eyes
see naught but food or danger looking 'round
at local parents, tourists, kids, and I
as we stare back in awe. We hear the sound
of striped-back alligator babies' cries,
seeking out the warmth of higher ground.
We move to see them better. Her cold stare
and shift in murky water lets us know
that not by grace of boardwalk are we there,
but her ancestral patience. As I go,
I turn once more to see her lying where
she has been since a million years ago.
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 8:28 PM UTC
Fried green beens
Whirl of the machines
Flashing lights
Squeals of delight
Games to win prizes
Drinks in all sizes
Pig and cow judging
Old friends hugging
Bands in the grandstand
Fried pickles at foodstand
Gator bites and gyros
Rides tossing to and fro
Cotton candy
Salt water taffy
Beer tents
Free events
Pies, canning and art
Contest to take part
Many concessionaire
Great old fashion state fair
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 11:42 AM UTC
Sometimes we have a life long dream...
but not sure where to start....
and sometimes we must go to the extreme..
with a thought that's not so smart....
It started with an issue..
she knew she had to resolve..
Unaware of her options, but knew it had to be solved..
He destroyed the girl that she had been...
destroyed the world she had lived in...
She weighed the pro's and the con's..
and concluded it had to do with ponds...
So she set out on a mission..
and decided to save for her own condition.
A well deserved vacation in the " Florida Keys"..
for her and her honey , and with his money....
The months how they passed...
So slowly, then at last...
The day they left was 20 below..Brrr..cold
Soon they were driving down Old Cheney Road..
A backwoods road where the St. Johns' River flowed..
I hear the fishing there is great...
You'll get a bite with very little bait..
They reached the lake in the early morn..
and that is where her plot was born..
She poured the coffee she had made..
and laced it with some " gator aide "....
Here my love she said so sweetly..
I made this special for you my sweetie..
The cast was made, the bait was set..
No reason for her to sweat or fret...
Eyes did close and body went limp..
She started to shake and then thought..
Come on girl be strong don't be a wimp..
No one knows we're here or where we're at..
She rolled the body to the edge of the water...
heard a splash !..it was only an otter...
Within a flash, the body was trash...
there must have been 20 gators below..
ripping and flipping the body about..
She packed up and decided to go back the scenic route....
post note: I've always wanted to be my own boss, and now due to my recent loss..
The Insurance is an assurance and I don't have to wait...
I'll open a store and call it " GATOR BAIT "
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
Hurricane fighter
Life and death celebrator, Spicy food eater
Street performer and Harborer of ships
Weather-beaten, resilient, colorful
The City that Care Forgot
They tell me you are beaten, ***** and old, and I acknowledge this, having seen your streets and limping buildings, water-marked and sagging
They tell me you are cruel and dark, and I agree, I've seen the voodoo shops, and the papers speaking of crimes
They tell me you are raucous and crowded, and I respond, "Yes, I know. I have walked through her streets and through the ear shattering sound"
And having said these things, I look again to those who ridicule my home, my city and tell them:
I dare you to bring me news of another place that's been beat down, and yet time after time rises again, singing even in death and anguish, wearing the dingy but bright colors of life
Laughing in the face of defeat, walking proud, and even as its guts tear each other apart, she sets her jaw and keeps moving forward
Fierce as a gator grappling with a hunter, clever and bright as a bird
Battered,
Falling,
Flying,
Soaring,
Hurting, healing, grinning
Beneath the ****** dirt smeared face, she smiles with a brilliant grin
Beneath the harsh reality of injuries and setbacks, fire dances in her heart and soul
Dancing even as a wizened soldier knowledgeable in pain but carefree would
Twisting and spinning over and around obstacles, taking the occasional hit, laughing in the ***** air, lifeblood of the city coursing through her veins
Dancing!
Laughing the weather-beaten, resilient, colorful laugh of Youth. Proud to be a Hurricane fighter
Life and death celebrator, Spicy food eater Street performer, Harborer of ships,
The City that Care Forgot
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
The Little Skiff Slips through the water, following Swamp Trails.
Soft Light of a Bayou Moon in the Mist, on right the splash of Gator Tail
As it hunts in the Moonlight, Twinkle of Neon Blares through the reeds,
From a Swamp bar Southeast of Lake Charles, Fiddle and Wash board,
Scrap , over Sweet Chords of Accordian Tunes drifting in the mist, As a
Patron of the Bar stirs coals on the bonfire, Drunken Guests Cut a Rug
On rolled out linoleum, Et Toi a Night of Bon temp Roulle on the Bayou
Inside the door, for some Cat fish and Red Beans & Rice with a cold brew
The Old Juke Box Plays Aaron Nevilles "If Tear Drops were Diamonds"
As the Band takes a Break, fiddle laying at Bars end Winks in Orange
To the flash of the Beer Sign, Uncle Solacess Raises his glass to the Moon
A high toast to La lune ete Amour de Coure, A Drunken Fight breaks out
Old Family issues, the contenders hugging and laughing over fresh Beers
As I Stumble out the door, just as the Zydeco strikes up I crank up the skiff
As I float into the fog, Bon Temp Roulle under Bayou Pale Moonlight
C'est bien de te voir, A bientot Au Revoir Bonne Nuit et Beau Reves....
.................................................................JMF 10/114
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 10:01 AM UTC
The wind was blowing when she left the city...
I believe it was twenty below...
Where she was going she already knew...
But... first she had things she had to do...
Get rid of the body that was clear....
There were no options, it had to disappear....
The heater was broken and blowing cold air...
She could feel the ice, building up in her hair..
She had cleaned up the blood as best she could...
As she had hit him hard with that log of wood...
All she had asked him , was to light a fire...
To take off the chill in the house....
Do it yourself if you are cold...he snapped
And while you’re at it get me a cold beer...from the fridge..
It was early morning when she finally arrived at the bridge..
This was his favorite fishing spot...
She pushed his body off the pier...along with his ice cold beer..
And suddenly began to shiver and sneeze.....
Oh well, she said...this too shall pass..
When I get to the Florida Keys..
PS. This is # 1 of 5 in a series titled “ Gator Bait “.
Be sure to check them out...
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 12:11 AM UTC
1. Although you aren't a big eater, you snack on several unhealthy foods.
2. Your middle name is Andrew.
3. You thought a 'henna' was pronounced 'hyena'.
4. Watermelon flavored gum is your favorite.
5. You are 5,8"
6. You always come to my home games, even when you miss a few important plays.
7. You're #5 usually, but you are #10 when you wear the maroon jerseys.
8. You know the lyrics to my favorite Taylor Swift song.
9. You are a huge fan of the Jags.
10. When you were 8 years old, your family forgot you to your own birthday dinner.
11. You notice different things I do with my eyeliner.
12. You draw stupid things in Spanish class.
13. Your favorite place to eat is Rib City.
14. You don't ever mind buying me smoothies.
15. You always put your hand on my thigh when we watch scary movies.
16. You remember it was a Friday in which you asked me out.
17. Although you own several t-shirts, you don't own any Florida Gator hoodies.
18. But you call yourself a fan.
19. You weren't impressed with Mockingjay Pt. 1.
20. I cannot stop thinking about you, especially on Saturday nights when I am not with you.
21. We have the same scar on our left hands and our ring fingers.
22. You take pictures of me when I'm not looking, but you delete them when I ask you to.
23. You have never told me I'm stupid, even when I am.
24. You don't like the beach.
25. You always wait for me at the end of class so we can walk together.
26. You remember what color shoes I wear on important days.
27. You don't get mad at me when I miss important parts of your game, as long as I am there.
28. You give me more hugs from behind than you do regular hugs.
29. Kisses on the cheek make you smile.
30. No one has ever been on my mind more than you.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
You should be careful,
That gator bites.
Just one mouthful
And he won't let go.
At least not without a fight,
One you don't have in you.
Tempt him,
Feel the rush.
He likes it too.
Get enough, and you'll ask him politely:
“Give us a kiss,
And I'm forever yours.
This bliss is too sweet
To ever ignore.”
He'll smooch, and the razors
In your skin will sing
Along with you.
Your choice, right?
I knew you'd be careful.
There's a good chip
On that shoulder,
Not like Utz.
Nobody ever eats just one,
And you're nobody.
Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 9:31 PM UTC
Dare I say it,
The oasis,
More like a billabong,
Is love.
And every thirsty beast wants a drink.
The water hole is muddy and dangerous,
Nonetheless,
With mixed success,
Each will take their chances.
Some are killed outright
By a crouching tiger or hidden gator.
Others get a couple of quick sips
But are run off by fear.
And a lucky few
Drink deeply,
Sustaining them for years.
Aug 29, 2010
Aug 29, 2010 at 5:45 PM UTC
Salina
The Nomad arrived
Cold, windy
Waiting on a ride.
Nine hours later
Waiting like a gator
Lynda arrived,
Train wreck, heart ❤ ache,
The Knight decided to ride.
Belly of the Beast.
The gangstA *** forward,
So all could survive.
Minues to halve,
Hours to days,.
Played, lonely moonless nights,
The Traveler prayed.
And the Yellow Brick Road opened
With the sound of a laugh,
Oz came into being,
When Mona Lisa smiled....
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 8:54 PM UTC
Greatest Ever (GOAT)
The greatest ever,
don’t hesitate for the Haters,
I stand here united in love,
while you’re divided as the Equator,
or better yet division equations,
no hesitations I’ve got now don’t care who has later,
baskin in the Florida sun while ballin’ in the fun,
on a beach in Miami with my belly in the sand call me a Gator,
got Florida sun shine in a New York state of One Mind,
in California at Greystone getting more wine from the waiter,
feeling like He-Man at Castle Greyskull getting great skull,
both reckless and tasteful variety the spice of life I like to savor,
and yeah they call me a player but better a player than a hater,
and yeah they call me selfish behind my back then face me and ask for favors,
but I cut through the BS with my lightsaber half Luke Skywalker half Darth Vader,
with no time to waste and no mind to spare so catch me now or see you later,
in the meantime you can find me at the beach,
between just laid and self made plotting revenges and favors,
went from being on the street on my *** with no glass to Best Ever,
fully clothed now with all the bells and whistles from minor league to major,
dressed the nines with my thumb on the button,
and my finger on the trigger,
and I won’t hesitate to detonate,
on any fool that flexes hate because I’m the Greatest Ever,
I’ll spell it out for you,
G.O.A.T.,
and that is the truth,
for real for really,
I’m the GOAT,
setting records and making goals,
so while all the losers are lost in hesitation,
I’m non stop always on the go,
the greatest ever,
don’t hesitate for the Haters,
I stand here united in love,
while you’re divided as the Equator…
∆ LaLux ∆
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 9:32 PM UTC
Oh how sad my days
How sad they would have been without the two of you
One I've known since I arrived
The other soon there after
My nights would never have been spent
in the early morning hours
I wouldn't have enjoyed two o'clock mornings
in the cold tranquility which was people and noise ridden
All except for us and the best memories to be found
In so humble of a town
Oh how we would have far fewer vendettas
,traditions to keep and fun to be had
If I had never met the likes of you
These many days would never have flown
We would never have become the butterflies we are
And never have found a one eternal love
These days were not meant for soul seeking
But only for finding those who are there
through thick and thin
I'm quite sure that there are none
None who could even attempt to hold a candle to one of you
My dearest friends
A Shark whose dust has blown people away
And a Pink Panther who has never been on TV
I am eternally grateful
that I have found the other two peas to my pod
I love you two, you're the best Siamese twins a girl could ask for
-Love Gator <3
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 7:54 PM UTC
I grow ***** poppies by a certain canal
A few seeds I got from a friend of a friend
I buried them an inch down in the dark
Black earth near a retention pond
I watch the sunset on the banks at night
There is even a good sized gator in the pond
I have seen him get some fish
He and I once and twice
Have probably shared a sunset
But the difference I
Go home to my warm bed
They sprout like a potato does
A good sized plant within a month
Until fat green buds began to swell on them
I plucked them when they reached an apex
And cut the flesh of one with a razor
Like a stuck pig it gushed
Rubbing a bit on my gums
I watched the sunset
And stumbled back
To my warm bed
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 7:12 PM UTC