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"hackensack" poems
There is something about this House in Hackensack... It attracts people...like a magnet. They often gather here, and They are welcomed any time. Eyes and souls surround, Even strangers are drawn to it, Like bees attracted to the flowers. Reunions are looked forward to... Even short chats and visits For some coffee or wine Are always welcome. This house.... It makes people want to come back... It's not just the food, Or the help it offers... The comeliness of the place, The people that live within... The noise... ever-present, The shaking of the stairs, when the boys Chase, tease each other... The squabbles, replete with tears... Cabinets are real heavy, With weight-y stories to tell... The bedrooms, so inviting, where jokes And giggles underneath the covers Could be heard till late hours of the night... All gather in the kitchen, The hub in this house... Family, friends...even new guests Do not go to the living room... They walk straight to the kitchen. There, where the home scents Exude warmth, Fragrant with home-cooking. The long dining table says it all... A different kind of music Plays every time And invites everyone To stay for a while and relax... It beckons each time... It whispers... "Go, find your corner...do your thing, You'll be okay..." And so, the cozy sun room became A favorite spot in that house, Where beautiful poetry bloomed At any hour during that whole month. From out front, along the street, Circling around to the backyard, Then back inside... It has now finally dawned on this clouded mind, What that "something" is... This house, metamorphosed From an old, kind of cold Victorian, to a homier, More comfortable modernized domicile... Now radiates with love, warmth and kindness, The energy emitted by the family living within... The people are the crown and the charm... They are the smoke coming out of the chimney... The  A U R A  of this house, standing proud Along Catalpa Avenue......... ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: Sally Copyright 2014 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
0
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
The House...
There is something about this House in Hackensack... It attracts people...like a magnet. They often gather here, and They are welcomed any time. Eyes and souls surround, Even strangers are drawn to it, Like bees attracted to the flowers. Reunions are looked forward to... Even short chats and visits For some coffee or wine Are always welcome. This house.... It makes people want to come back... It's not just the food, Or the help it offers... The comeliness of the place, The people that live within... The noise... ever-present, The shaking of the stairs, when the boys Chase, tease each other... The squabbles, replete with tears... Cabinets are real heavy, With weight-y stories to tell... The bedrooms, so inviting, where jokes And giggles underneath the covers Could be heard till late hours of the night... All gather in the kitchen, The hub in this house... Family, friends...even new guests Do not go to the living room... They walk straight to the kitchen. There, where the home scents Exude warmth, Fragrant with home-cooking. The long dining table says it all... A different kind of music Plays every time And invites everyone To stay for a while and relax... It beckons each time... It whispers... "Go, find your corner...do your thing, You'll be okay..." And so, the cozy sun room became A favorite spot in that house, Where beautiful poetry bloomed At any hour during that whole month. From out front, along the street, Circling around to the backyard, Then back inside... It has now finally dawned on this clouded mind, What that "something" is... This house, metamorphosed From an old, kind of cold Victorian, to a homier, More comfortable modernized domicile... Now radiates with love, warmth and kindness, The energy emitted by the family living within... The people are the crown and the charm... They are the smoke coming out of the chimney... The  A U R A  of this house, standing proud Along Catalpa Avenue......... ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: Sally Copyright 2014 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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66
My train of thought must have jumped the tracks in Hackensack Now it's a terrible town in which to live Another chemical company just paid five thousand dollars [american] to contribute to the further polluting of this fair city/DEATH TRAP Five months ago the EPA already declared the entire New York City area and radius of fifty miles from Columbus Circle deadly They basically said that breathing the air will **** you!  So I went out and bought a mask and argued for two hours with the police department on why I should be allowed to wear an air filter but No they said the merchants would think I was robbing them and it would scare shoppers and I said sh*t People should have a right to breathe clean air But they don't Here in Hackensack wrote a song about it Living here in Hackensack the Air is killing me Jesus won't you help me breathe I had no more of hope left till [I read] Serenity [prayer] Jesus won't you help me breathe It said I shouldn't fret about the things I cannot change and to ask for your help-guidance if there's things that I can change Don't have the money to move as far away as I need to be Jesus won't you help me breathe If I could move as far as good ol' Why Oh Me I wouldn't have to pray on broken knees I'm choking on the air I breathe Lord Jesus can you please help me Jesus won't you help me breathe Socrates took his own life at the age of se'enty   Drinking Hemlock not green tea Jesus look at me and I'm not even Fifty-three Jesus won't you help me breathe
0
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 1:07 PM UTC
Jesus, Won't You Help Me Breathe
My train of thought must have jumped the tracks in Hackensack Now it's a terrible town in which to live Another chemical company just paid five thousand dollars [american] to contribute to the further polluting of this fair city/DEATH TRAP Five months ago the EPA already declared the entire New York City area and radius of fifty miles from Columbus Circle deadly They basically said that breathing the air will **** you!  So I went out and bought a mask and argued for two hours with the police department on why I should be allowed to wear an air filter but No they said the merchants would think I was robbing them and it would scare shoppers and I said sh*t People should have a right to breathe clean air But they don't Here in Hackensack wrote a song about it Living here in Hackensack the Air is killing me Jesus won't you help me breathe I had no more of hope left till [I read] Serenity [prayer] Jesus won't you help me breathe It said I shouldn't fret about the things I cannot change and to ask for your help-guidance if there's things that I can change Don't have the money to move as far away as I need to be Jesus won't you help me breathe If I could move as far as good ol' Why Oh Me I wouldn't have to pray on broken knees I'm choking on the air I breathe Lord Jesus can you please help me Jesus won't you help me breathe Socrates took his own life at the age of se'enty   Drinking Hemlock not green tea Jesus look at me and I'm not even Fifty-three Jesus won't you help me breathe
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46
" The only thing that pleasures us is killing babies with our guns" These were the words Sung By members of the ROTC while jogging down union street in hackensack Seventeen year old children Being programmed By our government to pleasure themselves by killing babies Half a million innocent lives Taken by baby killers War is Hell Here in hackensack where the army rotc trains children to pleasure themselves
0
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 2:27 PM UTC
Programmable Interrupt
monk jumps trinkle ****** trane criss crossin time aboard idiocentric planes whacky Hackensack moods near my mysterioso home round bout midnight gleaning brilliant corner poems hummin blue monk blues i surrender dear Bemsha swing cast away Friday the 13th fears melancholy ruby swigs straight no chaser shots just let's cool one at the red hot 5 Spot rollins and griffin jammin hudson riverside house Weehawken royalty bows to a spiffy charlie rouse we remember mintons a vast creative flood monk be boppin on stage when in walked bud red rooster clucksters raising town hall roofs consecrating spaces playing Monk's hallowed tunes "pianos don't play no wrong notes" we heard Thelonious once say his utterances on the upright keys ingenious music maestro on display Music Selection: Thelonious Monk: In Walked Bud Marking Thelonious Sphere Monks Centennial 10/10/17 - 10/10/17 Orlando 9/28/17 jbm
0
Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 6:36 PM UTC
monk cent 10 I al
1. COYOTE SONG A warm beautiful sound Howling at the moon Into the cold dark night 2. TRUTH I have seen the greed And what it does see A lot of my friends died rich 3. BUTCHER I AM I stabbed Bukowski In the back again that bstrd smoked way too much 4. OKLAHOMA O. K. OKIE EYE Would live here amongst the wells save the tornadoes 5. UNDER FORTY ? Poe died old comparingly 6. SOUTH DAKOTA A cold place in hell And a bolder stone American Reminder 7. HIGH SCHOOL ****** I needed a date so I traveled outer space Searching comet's end 8. YAHOO! PAYPAL PLEASE I owe poetry so Much. so pay up. Donations are accepted. 9. A TEAR FOR PAL Mike Dembo American Pizzaman. Married man Walking ocean floor 10. SLIP What was' I thinking? That I could be saved'? drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip... 11. TRASH TALK I strong armed the mother That was in my way To get my fix today 12. FANCY FANTASY Anytime I want to **** somebody famous Yes, I think I will 13. CELEBRITY PICNIC? The whore's gather on Street corners they promote Themselves believing their lies 14. 50% OFF? American people give Me your retailed money It's President's Day 15. TO THE FORGOTTEN 1'S Forty-one more nations Annotations have been Made I have found you 16. 1 BUNNY DREAM A ******* Playmate Enters my room hip hop Hippity hoppity 17. DEAD POEM SOCIETY? I murdered you haiku In cold blood Now I'm going to ****** you 18. TABLE FOR 1 EACH An oreo and fig Newton meet for lunch One for me, one for you 19. CUTE COOKIE CRUMBLE An oreo runs into fig newton. Fancy meeting you here, crumb 20. 31 JAN 09 A man died today on State Street in Hackensack, New Jersey. So cold.
0
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 2:24 PM UTC
Detours
1. COYOTE SONG A warm beautiful sound Howling at the moon Into the cold dark night 2. TRUTH I have seen the greed And what it does see A lot of my friends died rich 3. BUTCHER I AM I stabbed Bukowski In the back again that bstrd smoked way too much 4. OKLAHOMA O. K. OKIE EYE Would live here amongst the wells save the tornadoes 5. UNDER FORTY ? Poe died old comparingly 6. SOUTH DAKOTA A cold place in hell And a bolder stone American Reminder 7. HIGH SCHOOL ****** I needed a date so I traveled outer space Searching comet's end 8. YAHOO! PAYPAL PLEASE I owe poetry so Much. so pay up. Donations are accepted. 9. A TEAR FOR PAL Mike Dembo American Pizzaman. Married man Walking ocean floor 10. SLIP What was' I thinking? That I could be saved'? drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip... 11. TRASH TALK I strong armed the mother That was in my way To get my fix today 12. FANCY FANTASY Anytime I want to **** somebody famous Yes, I think I will 13. CELEBRITY PICNIC? The whore's gather on Street corners they promote Themselves believing their lies 14. 50% OFF? American people give Me your retailed money It's President's Day 15. TO THE FORGOTTEN 1'S Forty-one more nations Annotations have been Made I have found you 16. 1 BUNNY DREAM A ******* Playmate Enters my room hip hop Hippity hoppity 17. DEAD POEM SOCIETY? I murdered you haiku In cold blood Now I'm going to ****** you 18. TABLE FOR 1 EACH An oreo and fig Newton meet for lunch One for me, one for you 19. CUTE COOKIE CRUMBLE An oreo runs into fig newton. Fancy meeting you here, crumb 20. 31 JAN 09 A man died today on State Street in Hackensack, New Jersey. So cold.
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118
We fire up our internet with a fortune we've already spent I tell ya' fella, I've got to yella I'm head up to here in my debt We fire up our own internet with what already should be for free Bee's make a honey. Hey, hey that's funny But not funny, not once, not one time to me If there was a way I could make some more pay I would never think to try and sell you I would think twice before tossing the dice Never would touch a warm body untrue OOPS. HERE, IT'S COMING OOPS. YES, IT'S COMING Hear it? Here it is, hear it? Hear it? Because here it is! Here it is: WHY FEE THE WIFEY? I don't know why Seems you could catch an infectious disease or just die off from all the vee dee WHY FEE THE WIFEY? I don't know why I thought you wanted the internet to get it, to get it for free OOPS! can't say it right OOPS! there I've done it again WHY FEE THE WIFEY? Don't tease the wife And please remember, be courteous please Don't try to upset my wife WHY FEE THE WIFEY? I don't know why This is a song about internet There's something that I can't say right WHY FEE THE WIFEY? I don't know why It's really not part of religious belief I tell ya' I don't want no part OOPS! Here it's coming OOPS! Yes, it's coming Hear it is WHY FEE THE WIFEY I don't know why Sorry I got lost, ran off the track And got trapped in ol' Hackensack WHY FEE THE WIFEY? I don't know why This isn't the song that I started to write Don't want those ideas for my wife WHY FEE THE WIFEY? Don't know, but I'll try And if she pays it, that'll be great I'll get all my free internet WHY FEE THE WIFEY I don't know why That's right I remember, free internet That is why I've got to try AND SAY WE FEE NO, NO NOT WE FEE Never say wee fee and never say die So say only why, say why-fie WHY FIGHT THE WEE FEE Why fight the wife I think I can say it Say it when high I've got it, I said it One last more why-fie WHY FEE THE WHY-FIE I'll ask my wife No, don't you ever, ever ask wife Just only ask for WI-FI WI-FI THE WI-FI OH MY OH MY I hope you enjoyed it Because you're my enjoyment My funny, bunny valentine There now. I think that I have said it right Yes, now I think that I have said it right Yes, now we think that he did say it right
0
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 12:32 PM UTC
Wired Goods
We fire up our internet with a fortune we've already spent I tell ya' fella, I've got to yella I'm head up to here in my debt We fire up our own internet with what already should be for free Bee's make a honey. Hey, hey that's funny But not funny, not once, not one time to me If there was a way I could make some more pay I would never think to try and sell you I would think twice before tossing the dice Never would touch a warm body untrue OOPS. HERE, IT'S COMING OOPS. YES, IT'S COMING Hear it? Here it is, hear it? Hear it? Because here it is! Here it is: WHY FEE THE WIFEY? I don't know why Seems you could catch an infectious disease or just die off from all the vee dee WHY FEE THE WIFEY? I don't know why I thought you wanted the internet to get it, to get it for free OOPS! can't say it right OOPS! there I've done it again WHY FEE THE WIFEY? Don't tease the wife And please remember, be courteous please Don't try to upset my wife WHY FEE THE WIFEY? I don't know why This is a song about internet There's something that I can't say right WHY FEE THE WIFEY? I don't know why It's really not part of religious belief I tell ya' I don't want no part OOPS! Here it's coming OOPS! Yes, it's coming Hear it is WHY FEE THE WIFEY I don't know why Sorry I got lost, ran off the track And got trapped in ol' Hackensack WHY FEE THE WIFEY? I don't know why This isn't the song that I started to write Don't want those ideas for my wife WHY FEE THE WIFEY? Don't know, but I'll try And if she pays it, that'll be great I'll get all my free internet WHY FEE THE WIFEY I don't know why That's right I remember, free internet That is why I've got to try AND SAY WE FEE NO, NO NOT WE FEE Never say wee fee and never say die So say only why, say why-fie WHY FIGHT THE WEE FEE Why fight the wife I think I can say it Say it when high I've got it, I said it One last more why-fie WHY FEE THE WHY-FIE I'll ask my wife No, don't you ever, ever ask wife Just only ask for WI-FI WI-FI THE WI-FI OH MY OH MY I hope you enjoyed it Because you're my enjoyment My funny, bunny valentine There now. I think that I have said it right Yes, now I think that I have said it right Yes, now we think that he did say it right
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80
You Hackensack Station You tiny ****** quiet ***** How dare you keep such a weak atmosphere on my youth You don't deserve me You need some blood of life, **** **** of my dirtiest saddest static lucidities You do indeed though, my Hackensack Station, Have these clenchers Clenching for every little bad moment of life And inhabiting your innards Sadly the other "respectable" **** Just lock their tongues, eat their vision Static and cold and minute **** Hackensack station dares to breathe The breath exits it's miserable doors Oozing with everything but character However only to sigh, and sigh on the inside About a woman's wrinkly *** bills We the breath, have migrated from the quiet hell To the eerily similar bus life Only there... we move, we motion, finish a journey previously doubted With white noise, and white noise that at first was not white
0
Mar 14, 2010
Mar 14, 2010 at 9:50 PM UTC
Hackensack Station
FRONT PAGE NEWS, CALL ALL THE PRESSES.   Most Americans by now realize that all sales of gasoline go directly to terrorist.  To quote Obama "Isis is 10 times as powerful as any previous terrorist group."  Yet he had the gall to "loan" GM Corp. millions of dollars for the sole purpose of building more gas guzzlers.  Didn't you know what you were doing Bam?  Betcha got Hal stock from **** didn'tcha.   Here in Hackensack, most of the members of the Hackensack Police Department own SUV's so that they can look cool in their support of ISIS.  It is not my desire to make anyone look bad.  I just want to bring awareness to what is happening here.  Most politicians received stock in Haliburton (the largest manufacturer of war equipment in the world) which **** Cheney worked for, for thirty-five years before he was chosen, er, stole the vice-presidency.  And most Americans agree that he should do time.  Yet, Here in Hackensack, the local police department continue to drive gas guzzlers, fully supporting Isis.   Hey!, they stated.  It's our American right to support whatever cause we want.  It's a free country isn't it?   Eerily still, at the Johnson Public Library (in Hackensack), there is a security guard who wears a full beard resembling a terrorist (talk about putting fear into your readers. This guy makes Stephen King novels look like fancy boys.)   but, I guess it's too late to take action.   The only thing left to do is save yourselves.  I heard that Canada is a free country.  Maybe I'll move there and not worry about some Mexican who will (crawl through a tunnel that goes underneath a fence that the Donald's mob buddies built to) take my place.
0
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
HACKENSACK POLICE DEPARTMENT IS IN FULL SUPPORT OF ISIS AND OTHER TERRORIST CELLS!
FRONT PAGE NEWS, CALL ALL THE PRESSES.   Most Americans by now realize that all sales of gasoline go directly to terrorist.  To quote Obama "Isis is 10 times as powerful as any previous terrorist group."  Yet he had the gall to "loan" GM Corp. millions of dollars for the sole purpose of building more gas guzzlers.  Didn't you know what you were doing Bam?  Betcha got Hal stock from **** didn'tcha.   Here in Hackensack, most of the members of the Hackensack Police Department own SUV's so that they can look cool in their support of ISIS.  It is not my desire to make anyone look bad.  I just want to bring awareness to what is happening here.  Most politicians received stock in Haliburton (the largest manufacturer of war equipment in the world) which **** Cheney worked for, for thirty-five years before he was chosen, er, stole the vice-presidency.  And most Americans agree that he should do time.  Yet, Here in Hackensack, the local police department continue to drive gas guzzlers, fully supporting Isis.   Hey!, they stated.  It's our American right to support whatever cause we want.  It's a free country isn't it?   Eerily still, at the Johnson Public Library (in Hackensack), there is a security guard who wears a full beard resembling a terrorist (talk about putting fear into your readers. This guy makes Stephen King novels look like fancy boys.)   but, I guess it's too late to take action.   The only thing left to do is save yourselves.  I heard that Canada is a free country.  Maybe I'll move there and not worry about some Mexican who will (crawl through a tunnel that goes underneath a fence that the Donald's mob buddies built to) take my place.
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6
As the sun sets over the Hackensack Bums drink their old English behind Costco Where the river flows It snakes upwards towards the USS Ling A World War Two submarine museum Where a *** is nesting there Along the river in a cardboard box
0
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 9:24 AM UTC
Boat In A Sinkhole
Here's that song I wrote about you Instead of lying around, whimpering I put my pen to the paper again And I don't even have to pretend Yes, here's that song I wrote about you I hope you like how it ends Because every time I think of you I write a song again Like a manic Myspace ****** Reading everything I write Deleting words you thought were yours And changing some to fight It's not your mother dear nic-o-lee So stop choosing her to blame You will be cornered by the feds Someday when they put you both away I never knew love in this kind of way Fly to get there.  Then, have to explain What possessed me to see you in person can never be explained I'd like to talk about two girls And they're both from Michigan You Georgia peaches got nothing on them And the way they love to sin    And many come to see me in person At the typewriter where I sit And sometimes they can make me feel easy And at times they make me sh*t [panic] When they say "Why'd you write that song about me" And I say "Listen, it was only words" Do you want to fight with me? And then they lay on their back again    I told you every word is about you But the names, look, they changed again All that hurt, and you still sleep around Can't you trust?  Then please tell me why you can't I'd like to write a song about FEB And how beautiful a ten or how those ****** in Hollywood Stole my song last year, again But, thanks to my friend Walleye I knew they wouldn't get away with it Now there I go again Got off the track in Hackensack Oh well, here we go again So, here's that song I wrote about you To my wife/whore/lost girlfriend I put my pen to the paper again And I don't even have to pretend Somebody write this date down Sunday, One Ten Twenty-Ten What once was so very far away Has already been spent Hear a song I wrote for you If the big men go and steal it I'll have to write another one I just hope that you can feel it Here's that song I wrote about you Can you have that on your conscience? Here's a song I wrote about you Life is short!  There! This song has balance So, here's that song I wrote about you Instead of lying around, whimpering I put my pen to the paper again And I don't even have to pretend Yes, here's that song I wrote about you And I hope you like its ending Because, every time I think of you I write a song again
0
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
That Song I Wrote About You
Here's that song I wrote about you Instead of lying around, whimpering I put my pen to the paper again And I don't even have to pretend Yes, here's that song I wrote about you I hope you like how it ends Because every time I think of you I write a song again Like a manic Myspace ****** Reading everything I write Deleting words you thought were yours And changing some to fight It's not your mother dear nic-o-lee So stop choosing her to blame You will be cornered by the feds Someday when they put you both away I never knew love in this kind of way Fly to get there.  Then, have to explain What possessed me to see you in person can never be explained I'd like to talk about two girls And they're both from Michigan You Georgia peaches got nothing on them And the way they love to sin    And many come to see me in person At the typewriter where I sit And sometimes they can make me feel easy And at times they make me sh*t [panic] When they say "Why'd you write that song about me" And I say "Listen, it was only words" Do you want to fight with me? And then they lay on their back again    I told you every word is about you But the names, look, they changed again All that hurt, and you still sleep around Can't you trust?  Then please tell me why you can't I'd like to write a song about FEB And how beautiful a ten or how those ****** in Hollywood Stole my song last year, again But, thanks to my friend Walleye I knew they wouldn't get away with it Now there I go again Got off the track in Hackensack Oh well, here we go again So, here's that song I wrote about you To my wife/whore/lost girlfriend I put my pen to the paper again And I don't even have to pretend Somebody write this date down Sunday, One Ten Twenty-Ten What once was so very far away Has already been spent Hear a song I wrote for you If the big men go and steal it I'll have to write another one I just hope that you can feel it Here's that song I wrote about you Can you have that on your conscience? Here's a song I wrote about you Life is short!  There! This song has balance So, here's that song I wrote about you Instead of lying around, whimpering I put my pen to the paper again And I don't even have to pretend Yes, here's that song I wrote about you And I hope you like its ending Because, every time I think of you I write a song again
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72
A bird whistles at my window pretty song A train whistles after midnight rude awakening A dog whistles to attract birds then eats them A man whistles alongside the tracks a railroad tune Sung years ago Perhaps in Hackensack Perhaps
0
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
Whistles
Can one wish to become a Hindu deity? Well, one can wish that wish, and perhaps in self-delusion, come to feel it has happened. Or perhaps instead of becoming a social worker to help the poor and hopeless, one chooses instead to attend Columbia Law School and then pick up a MBA and go to work on Wall Street where one can make billions, no longer millions, and live in Greenwich in a grand home big enough to house the homeless of Hackensack. A private jet would be nice to have to jet about the world, eating at only 5-star restaurants, sleeping only in beds of luxurious hotels real estate agents in Fargo can only dream about. How about yearly attending the meeting of the financially mighty of the world in Davos? Wouldn't that be swell? Well, it depends on who you are and where your heart lies and if lies don't bother you. An avatar you do not make. Either you are one, or you're not. Be your real self as soon as you can to find out. TOD HOWARD HAWKS
0
Apr 26, 2021
Apr 26, 2021 at 11:53 PM UTC
A HINDU DIETY
Here's that song I wrote about you Instead of lying around, whimpering I put my pen to the paper again And I don't even have to pretend Yes, here's that song I wrote about you I hope you like how it ends Because every-time I think of you I write a song again Like a manic my-space ****** Reading everything I write Deleting words you thought were yours And changing some to fight It's not your mother dear nic-o-lee So stop choosing her to blame You will be cornered by the feds Someday when they put you both away I never knew love in this kind of way Fly to get there. Then, have to explain What possessed me to see you in person can never be explained I'd like to talk about two girls And they're both from Michigan You Georgia peaches got nothing on them And the way they love to sin And many come to see me in person At the typewriter where I sit And sometimes they can make me feel easy And at times they make me **** [panic] When they say "Why'd you write that song about me" And I say "Listen, it was only words" Do you want to fight with me? And then they lay on their back again I told you every-word is about you But the names, look, they changed again All that hurt, and you still sleep around Can't you trust? Then please tell me why you can't I'd like to write a song about FEB And how beautiful a ten or how those ****** in Hollywood Stole my song last year, again But, thanks to my friend Walleye I knew they wouldn't get away with it Now there I go again Got off the track in Hackensack Oh well, here we go again So, here's that song I wrote about you To my wife/whore/lost girlfriend I put my pen to the paper again And I don't even have to pretend Somebody write this date down Sunday, One Ten Twenty-Ten What once was so very far away Has already been spent Hear a song I wrote for you If the big men go and steal it I'll have to write another one I just hope that you can feel it Here's that song I wrote about you Can you have that on your conscience? Here's a song I wrote about you Life is short! There! This song has balance So, here's that song I wrote about you Instead of lying around, whimpering I put my pen to the paper again And I don't even have to pretend Yes, here's that song I wrote about you And I hope you like it's ending Because, every-time I think of you I write a song again
0
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 11:51 AM UTC
That Song I Wrote About You
Here's that song I wrote about you Instead of lying around, whimpering I put my pen to the paper again And I don't even have to pretend Yes, here's that song I wrote about you I hope you like how it ends Because every-time I think of you I write a song again Like a manic my-space ****** Reading everything I write Deleting words you thought were yours And changing some to fight It's not your mother dear nic-o-lee So stop choosing her to blame You will be cornered by the feds Someday when they put you both away I never knew love in this kind of way Fly to get there. Then, have to explain What possessed me to see you in person can never be explained I'd like to talk about two girls And they're both from Michigan You Georgia peaches got nothing on them And the way they love to sin And many come to see me in person At the typewriter where I sit And sometimes they can make me feel easy And at times they make me **** [panic] When they say "Why'd you write that song about me" And I say "Listen, it was only words" Do you want to fight with me? And then they lay on their back again I told you every-word is about you But the names, look, they changed again All that hurt, and you still sleep around Can't you trust? Then please tell me why you can't I'd like to write a song about FEB And how beautiful a ten or how those ****** in Hollywood Stole my song last year, again But, thanks to my friend Walleye I knew they wouldn't get away with it Now there I go again Got off the track in Hackensack Oh well, here we go again So, here's that song I wrote about you To my wife/whore/lost girlfriend I put my pen to the paper again And I don't even have to pretend Somebody write this date down Sunday, One Ten Twenty-Ten What once was so very far away Has already been spent Hear a song I wrote for you If the big men go and steal it I'll have to write another one I just hope that you can feel it Here's that song I wrote about you Can you have that on your conscience? Here's a song I wrote about you Life is short! There! This song has balance So, here's that song I wrote about you Instead of lying around, whimpering I put my pen to the paper again And I don't even have to pretend Yes, here's that song I wrote about you And I hope you like it's ending Because, every-time I think of you I write a song again
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Rain that melts the snow away in early May will never go away. Seems like that for several days here in March we've lost our ozone layer. "Big Deal" says the taxi-man in the big city with the fat wallet. Fat oil says, fat oil says, fat oil says, fat oil says goodnight. Eat green, eat fresh, eat lithium, just don't try to drink the tritium. High tide in the hackensack as the moon smiles down on the mosquitoes. Big daddy stepping on the little man again d.t.v. no good. Big daddy stepping on the little man there's no healthcare. Just say die. This year we can make believe there is health care. Temperature, pulse, blood pressure. That is all they do for you for those on medicare and medicaid I swear. Come back in ninety days we'll do it all over again. Foot bleeding It's probably fine, soak it in hot water or you could see a doctor. But you have to go to the e.r., then you wait for a specialist. This way they can charge for the higher rate the insurance can't cover. And that is what caused all those states to be bankrupt. American Ulcers. But the people who give half their pay to get insurance get to live.
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Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 12:58 PM UTC
The American Sentencing
Way Way back in the day With a top-hat in the shade tents were pitched - seasons past Way Way back when it was all a gas I swear that at one time that it was a crime, just to laugh Well then you get a gun then But it gets tougher than that Down on Banta near Central Here in Hackensack and there's a choo-choo on every track Hey don't waste your time spent talkin' to Jack and there's a weasel in the henhouse but we don't worry about that Back when love was a crime Way back when love was a crime
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 9:09 PM UTC
When Love Was A Crime
On 11/16/15 at 4:45 p.m. near 338a Main St., a Hackensack Police Dept. patrolman in car #107 slowed his vehicle down to text on his computer which he had positioned on the passenger side of the vehicle.  While using his right hand to use the computer his left hand was on the window slot of the driver's side door.  Keep in mind now that no hands were on the steering wheel and the patrol car was still in motion.  When I mentioned to the driver "no texting while driving officer."  He then turned to face me and stated **** you."  Then he drove away.  This was the most unprofessional act of an uniformed officer that I have ever witnessed Here in hackensack.
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Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 3:06 PM UTC
Moving Violation (explicit)
I'm still a teen I cry and scream I'm seventeen at fifty-three The anger pains they still remain rain fills my brain hurts like a train I jump the tracks It breaks my back to still be here in hackensack Can someone say it goes away or that it stays forever, eh? My mind it seems has cheated me makes me believe I'm seventeen So where is she the one I knew the one I thought would be so true I'm seveteen I cry and scream I'm still a teen at fifty-three
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Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 7:58 AM UTC
17@53 (4x4x7carpentry?)
One will not live to see the end of the geopolitical drama, the existential dilemma— the small choices people make that change their lives. They ought to be terrified but they’re blithe because you can’t know what you’re doing until it’s done. Acting silly, solving problems. Scientific method, situation comedy. Dinosaurs. Sore losers. Kayak on the Hackensack. Malebolge. Hoboken. It was dark in there! It was dark! You can’t say to people I think I’m dying because we all have that feeling, it’s so ubiquitous it’s not worth mentioning. For your given name take Destiny. But survive. Saturday’s the sweetest day. You’re off the clock. Participation’s optional weedsmoking, videogameplaying, tvwatching, anonymouslawnmowing, whatif whatnot oldtimer. Pass the ******* ball! I say to Ray who never passes. The past isn’t dead, it never even passes. Short sleeves today? Prepare for a powerful anesthesia. The afterlife is now.
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Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 2:27 PM UTC
Valetudinarian
A Cop Murdered an innocent man yesterday on Summit Ave. no charges were filed Hey fella did you hear? what's that Construction companies are creating housing for 15,000 new residents in Hackensack, NJ for who? Chris Christie's mob buddies. Chris Christie doesn't have any mob buddies. He doesn't have any buddies at all. He just sits there on his fat *** eating every ding **** in site. Hey, the press said he lowered unemployment by seven per cent. Don't believe the press.  The reason unemployment is so low is that the seven per cent who Were on unemployment are now considered no longer employable. And were moved off the list to social security. Resulting in the change. Hey, aren't the cops there crim. Shhh, they're trying to get people to move here. Have they tested the water yet. They don't have to. Water is something you purchase off the shelf. Where? HERE! in hackensack Not in Newark Bay where they haven't even looked yet.
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Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 10:14 AM UTC
BEASTS
The gays in Hackensack Have their own club It's called the gay pill traders club off main on mercer just south of the tracks above the check cashing place on main Where the drunks go to cash their welfare checks People there trade and sell all kinds of drugs upstairs and on the tracks There's a fat cop who pops in from time to time looking for drugs Always with a *** of cash Been coming there for years Never can find any drugs It's dangerous Being on your own
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Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 2:38 PM UTC
Mercer Annies
i bought a chevy impala station wagon off the fire chief of hackensack it was safety yellow and glowed in the dark had a ball on top but the chief took it with him still a switch for it on the dashboard way cool until the master cylinder snapped on my way down a steep viaduct with my two kids in back no brakes all the way down splashing into a busy intersection at the bottom of the hill sure wish i’d had that siren cooler still was the car before bought for one dollar from my uncle who’d inherited it from his oddball best bud a scientist/author of a popular cosmology of the universe it was a 1973 gold dodge coronet the name conjures ancient cop shows a huge sporty firebreathing beast eight mighty pistons and an oil leak i drove it for two years until the vital fluids gushing out like the mississippi forced me to abandon ship the greasy kid across the street found a buyer we waited for him one saturday morning around the corner sailed the identical car same color gold, same year 1973 couldn’t have shocked me more if two statues of liberty came crashing into each other in hudson bay the four cuban dudes driving up were thrilled cannibalism in their eyes my car was stripped for parts as they disappeared now i have a new minivan and ball-busting car payments nobody gets cooler as they get older
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Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 4:56 AM UTC
DODGE CORONET
In a little time In a little time, In a little time In a little time In a little time, In a little time In a little time In a little time, In a little time In a little time In a little time, In a little time In a little time gonna spend some time with you In a little time we'll make all our dreams come true In a little time no more turning back In a little time no more time for hackensack In a little time that's real soon In a little time Me and you In a little time not real fast In a little time Forget all the past In a little time Made for you In a little time Dreams come true In a little time No more livin' the blues In a little time Me & You In a little time In a little time, In a little time In a little time In a little time, In a little time
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Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 4:16 PM UTC
In A Little Time