"grads" poems
The new Genre Tourist Punk
is sailing the nation.
Hawaiian shirts and white keds are lining up all around Orlando to see
up and thrifting bands like
Lobster trap,
Lighthouse tour and
Dogs welcome.
Founded in a Starbucks
by Toni and Dash,
two MECA grads one student loan away from selling out and getting involved in
the lighthouse painting business,
The Band: Lobster Trap
gave birth to a whole new genre.
TOURIST PUNK
Toni and Dash decided they needed to provide music that was expensive. niche.
Something unspeakably mundane.
With smash hits like
"This traffic is ********
And "My name still isn't Joe".
Lobster Trap is flying
up the American top 40
faster than you can say socks and sandals
Sales of "I HEART LOCATION" merch has skyrocketed with every launched tour.
Crowds of L.L. bean boots and visors are Moshing, breaking poloroid cameras over each others heads in a salmon rage.
old school punk fanatics were skeptical at middle aged middle class suits getting into their scene.
until it hit them that they could now throw punches
at every pedestrian who ever cut them off.
"Hi thirsty, I'm Dad." By Land of the Polite
Has been played more times in the last year then any taylor swift song.
Money once invested in college-bound middle class vacationlander spawn is being wisely spend on bands like "discount Polo",
and "Local Diner"
So listeners.
if you spend an obscene amount of money on travel fair, and over priced, cheaply made souvenirs;
Or Work in customer service thriving to see those leaf peepers choked out by their own ***** packs.
Do yourself a favor.
road trip into your local bullmoose
sporting your states name on your chest.
And Treat yourself to an exclusive new album
of TOURIST PUNK.
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 4:16 AM UTC
we both work in the postal service
but neither one of us
has ever sent a single love letter
maybe it's the drill of the job
maybe its the grind of the machines
or the clack of the keyboards
grind turns to a drone
and i look around to what we thought
were industrialized patents
were actually what we had once considered our friends
was that where they disappeared to?
instead of quitting the dead end
i had assumed too fearful to follow the leap
they hid away in mail bins and P.O. boxes
i thought i was alone
maybe i was
maybe they really did leave
their souls gone
with empty shells of bodies
remnants of what once was
yes
i am still alone
those who i knew have fled the building
in search of a more meaningful existence
winding in up in god knows where
anywhere but here
these gluttonous pantomimes only accept hopefuls
midlife crises who leap
at the opportunity for promotion
like increasing payroll would reduce their age
same as the twenty five year old liberal art grads who need a filler
to help pay rent while they work
on what will collectively become hundreds of thousands of volumes unpublished
here i stand
twenty eight years old
and strip off my badge
as it falls to the floor
i walk out the door
say hello to the next boarding train
(last stop your hometown)
and goodbye to the dead end road.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
The Miss-Director was beaming with pride
as he came to escort me inside.
"Come along, these are perilous times,
there is much ugly truth we must hide."
"Herr Goebbels was our school's inspiration.
Joe McCarthy taught here till he died.
Charlie Rangel is among our directors.
Our Grads over nations preside."
"We recruit each years class from young children
who display a disdain for the truth."
"We start with a class on tall stories,
progressing to fibs and untruths."
"By the time they are teens they are ready
to leave little white lies behind."
"They engage in deceit and deception.
These skills help them rob people blind."
"With our Grad course in prevarication
They misdirect and deflect with the great."
"Obama was born in Hawaii,
his foes say he was birthed out of state."
"When Bill Clinton was caught in that perjury
I nearly went out of my mind."
"If only he'd paid more attention in Class
and less to some coed's behind."
We had come to a massive rotunda
The Pantheon of all untruth.
Holograms of Stalin and Churchill
told whoppers in an endless loop.
There were quotes from
the World's Great Religions
inscribed on the sides of the wall.
A Left wing devoted to Lenin.
A right wing like a Munich beer hall.
" The sheeple must never be told
that a place like this even exists."
" You can count on me not to inform them."
I said, without moving my lips.
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 8:57 AM UTC
Aware enough to cheer the game on,
As they strike out,
Your son sits behind you,
Keys clicking,
To fill the void of a good foot ball throw,
Hallow hello hell,
Fatherless fathers fell.
To sleep because the drugs,
Are easier than the kids,
He made.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
The kids want nooks and Kindle Fire,
The teenagers want Limos on hire,
College grads are busy on Tablets and I pads,
Laptops for moms and DSLR's for Dads!
This Christmas things are going awry,
Fettucine has replaced Mashed potato and gravy,
Hence Ol' Santa's gone really techno savvy,
He's exchanged his deer for a brand new Ferrari!!
Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 1:16 AM UTC
This is for those sky high low and ***** media grads of the fate-late noughties,
grasping,
pathetically,
as dreams slip like their youth of yesteryear.
Unpaid, over-laid, saturated with the cum-comedy of their university days.
Then comes the choke and cloak of the next interview,
interview,
interview,
the view into the next room is so beautiful and dazzling after that last ****
so beautiful and dazzling after the next ****
so beautiful and dazzling, please, I swear I'll just have one more ****
Ceremonial drug use,
a testimonial abuse of government aid,
paid to those by the Hair Blair bunch of chumps who screamed the promise of higher education for the lot,
a degree for every adult,
an unpaid job for every graduate.
The clouded confidence stutter of the high as a helicopter, once potential author,
lost in the part-time smog of inner city university town down-and-outers.
Left adrift with no financial spine,
left to pine the disillusionment they now know they felt way before they knew what they've come to do,
and be,
and exist as forever.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 8:03 AM UTC
School commencements looming;
Bands and grads are tuning,
Moving from room to room
On this last day in June.
From womb to pre-school
Kids migrate,
To elementary/high school dissipate;
Trade schools, colleges,
And universities await,
Punch the clock at the workplace gate.
Summer vacation helps make the break.
But make no mistake,
The last day of school is just for show,
I hope they're schooled enough to know.
The last day of school is just a term
Rightly debunked during life's sojourn:
Ahead there's still life-long learning.
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 10:42 AM UTC
I agape of all finished afterthought, some allude to almanac's packed of alms, some totaled, sold and bought!!
Altruism,pigism, ambiguous to ambitions own an'nals,
Some take fairies to ride, some get high getting annulled on thine way out!!!
Antagonisms councils costumed to personify perverse college boys,
They all wear ties,
Doest thou prepare to die?
Doth thou succumb to heavy metal noise? Subterfuges narrate concert speakers of noose tied voids!!!
Precious,
Precious flamboyant memorizer,
Hath thou memorized to thy fullest privelage?
Art thou the born leader thou claims to be?
Or art thou the slave of thine flattery made village?
This forlorn spirit is burdened down to be free,
To be free of all devils,
All doubts and all deed!!!
Where is ones donational vocational school grads love?
Is it hidden within lockers of broken hearted hunnies?
Doth thy stomach overflow with butterfly fluids?
While many rob you of lovers money,
Dizzy funnies!!!
Hand holders of descendants grumpy mishappers,
Where is love when one seeks so hard for it????!
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 8:40 PM UTC
Og det er jo ikke meningen at jeg skal græde på en tirsdag, fordi du siger højre og jeg siger venstre, men alligevel får du mig til at hade dig når jeg går under gadelamperne for at fylde min hals med røg fremfor råb, fordi jeg råber jo kun fordi jeg mener det og hader dig jo kun nu fordi jeg elsker dig om 5 minutter, men alligevel, hvorfor skal vi altid sætte ild til hinanden før vi ved hvor meget vi begge brænder for det her?
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 7:37 PM UTC
Your impulses are generous, kind and pure-
But impose costs on us we can’t endure.
One point three trillion spent each year, tis said,
to keep our current poor in their own beds.
America has debt related worries
While social engineers break out new Mores.
Recent Grads despair of their careers
and student loans are going in arrears.
Priests, Teachers and the Boy Scouts, rank and file,
Apparently are staffed with pedophiles.
Socialism’s great and life is sunny-
until you run out of other people’s money.
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 7:29 AM UTC
Static anxiety housed in a shipping container
Bound for the coast of Maine.
Pandora slipped out from the lead-lined box,
And drowned out of sight, in elapsing waves.
Hallowed shores in the presence of beached harlequins
Sipping sand as their bodies get dragged
Latched and cast off as bait
Used to pull Poseidon out from the depths
Holding fast as shipping lanes rust,
Bleeding off into the current bellow.
Path marked by Aphrodite’s bust.
Belittled at the point of metaphysical conceit.
The epic crashed and burned
Turned to dust through a negligent Milton
Burning down the library of Alexandria
Housing ashy books with inadequate binding.
Homer, now, repeats a Harvard grads humor
Doh filled remnants of a paralyzed form
Duff downed in the hours after the plants closing
The barred doors leave Joyce with nothing left to quote.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Have a brief moment,
Saying that you work at your best,
Even though you know I ain't mad at that,
You're getting me stressed,
You shouldn't have been killed,
You shouldn't have been killed,
Gotta do it the right way,
Play your cards right,
Gold fish hooked out of the pond,
You should have stayed,
But you know I ain't mad,
And glad that you're sad,
The only piece of me I ever had,
They were thinking she has a eyes closed ******* off the school grads,
But do what you do,
Because I'm at a higher place,
Led in the right direction,
No,
This isn't a phase,
I definitely ain't mad at that.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 1:26 AM UTC
Alfred Edward Housman wrote about this county from London,
we smoke pipes and drink pints to honour the scholar's story,
which can be checked out the library, former learning quarters
of an explorer named Charles Darwin, who sits in grey outside,
despite leaving town in adolescence, returning from Galapagos
to The Mount, where my parents met in mental health sickness,
gave life to an original species that theories would have hated,
like Robert Clive, who earned his knighthood by looting India,
cried in parliament, now we want his stage ousted, his house is
next to the cottage where I sleep restless because myself and
a few other Shropshire lads failed to escape, even after studying
centurion debates, athletic form and getting serenaded by greats,
where are the names of those who rose from minimum wage?
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 12:30 PM UTC
The sun rises, baby blush pink,
Like tongues and fingertips and lips,
First forming sounds, like cries of song,
In innocent young bliss.
Beginning to scream, deep crimson,
Red mouth, red socks, red babygrow,
First learning to crawl, to walk, to run,
In wide eyed exploration.
Cool to a blue, like the ocean,
Blue towel, blue bucket, blue ***** and net,
First time at the beach, the sea and the sand,
A little world traveller.
Clouds block the sun, white sheep's wool,
White nurse, bleak town, white hospital gown,
First meeting with Death, too young to know,
Poor, motherless child.
Many hours pass, a clear blue sky,
Blue coat, blue shirt, school uniform,
First day at school, with a bright, nervous smile,
A grin, ‘Have fun today, kid.’
School day is over, skies dark blue,
Blue eyes, cold lips, but a warm, warm kiss,
First long-term girlfriend, with hair velvet black,
University grads.
The sky’s getting darker, deep purple,
The wedding dress and the new front door,
First proper house, with a bare wooden floor,
‘Little girl’s growing up.’
The sky turns red, deep crimson,
Red sheets, red lips, red underwear,
First time on a bed, she says with a laugh,
And a racing heart.
A sudden blackness, like blackout blinds,
Black suits, black coffin, grim funeral march,
The man with the scepter brushes past,
She’s an orphan now.
Then out of the darkness, the moon and stars,
Bright eyes, bright laughs, bright kitchen lights,
First time that she’s laughed in a long, long time,
With a drink in one hand.
The white of the moon, glowing, smiling,
White sheets, white face, white hospital bed,
First time being a mother, and holding her child,
Another day dawns.
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 4:00 PM UTC
Anomous snitching,
Tooth dead crinching,
The Grinch has made his way in!!
Talk of the town,
What's made is yours,
And what's ours is yours.
You bee sting amongst the nest!!
Epeleptic symptoms turn the chairs of doctoria request!!!
Antsy fingers,
Written unspokeness,
While the ongoing brokenness rewrites history paradox sense!!
Repentance,
Repentance,
Jurrassic marmelade!
Giving up all your readiness for our creditless credit carded trades!!!
Grass root momentary,
Head stone obituary, you are soo lovely in day!!!
The weeds that pull wrap divinely,
Enter signification relieve all things timely...
Relinquishments own freshing!!!
Grads of the ages for a scripturetic blessing,
How seasonal this all is!!!!!!!!!
Four chambered mansion, hearts beats immaculate to sweets and treat's of sugar can value!!!
Where coffee rocks fall through open lace of white state rags....
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
There were managers
College grads
Conspiring in the corner
Next to the dumpster
And the women complained
About mistreatment
And the men worked with
Aching backs
Dying to prove
Something.
Everybody is busy
Everybody is angry
Nobody feels
Fulfilled.
Some walked fast
Some dragged themselves
Some sweated
Some laughed
Some screamed
Some looked
Miserable.
Everybody submitted.
Christ...
It's just retail.
Every morning
I say to myself
"I'm going in,
but I ain't doin
****
Today."
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC