"hollered" poems
What the hell is the term “sparkling eyes” even referring to? The widening of one’s eyelids? The dilation of the pupils? Or maybe it’s meant to be ambiguous to fully credit the effect of the magical phrase. But when she looked at me her eyes didn't sparkle. They darkened. And the way she looked at me, with her eyes filled with danger sent my soul in spirals, for I could feel an unbearable amount of unrest within my blood. And at that very moment I found myself walking towards her. I walked, blinded by her dark eyes, towards the oblivion until I asked her name, “Sara,” she hollered. Of course she hollered. It was very unusual, just like her entire persona.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
I went down to the river,
I set down on the bank.
I tried to think but couldn't,
So I jumped in and sank.
I came up once and hollered!
I came up twice and cried!
If that water hadn't a-been so cold
I might've sunk and died.
But it was Cold in that water! It was cold!
I took the elevator
Sixteen floors above the ground.
I thought about my baby
And thought I would jump down.
I stood there and I hollered!
I stood there and I cried!
If it hadn't a-been so high
I might've jumped and died.
But it was High up there! It was high!
So since I'm still here livin',
I guess I will live on.
I could've died for love--
But for livin' I was born
Though you may hear me holler,
And you may see me cry--
I'll be dogged, sweet baby,
If you gonna see me die.
Life is fine! Fine as wine! Life is fine!
5.9k
Grandmother Willow said
listen to your heart, you will understand
but when it pounds all I want to do is run
my heart says so many things
one minute it's telling me to climb a tree as high as the branches let me
the next it says hook line and sinker
and when I'm with someone beautiful, it says
nothing, it just
flutters and pitter patters
Mulan was always my favourite because
she had her heart broken and still
She Saved China
all on her own
my heart breaks like twigs and crumbles like dry
stiff leaves
in Autumn
and my heart is also a rubber ball that bounces from
one place to the next
too rapidly,
I forget where I am
and where I just was a moment before I ended up
wherever I ended up
my heart is like ice and sometimes if you are the right temperature,
it will melt for you
my heart is aware of fallacy and sometimes if you try to coax it,
everything I ever felt for you
won't exist anymore
a few months ago I was sitting at the back of
a midnight bus
in my hometown,
with a hippie headband on, accompanied with braids,
a long dress and moccasins of black suede
when a drunk teenager pointed and hollered directly at my face,
"you look like Pocahontas, how many John Smiths love you?"
I don't get angry anymore
I just get tired
my heart goes to sleep for days and wakes up at
the sudden gong of recognition
in eye contact
that lasts longer than just a few seconds;
my heart awakens at sunsets,
when I am sitting in a tree alone
and it awakens each time I successfully skip a stone
I've always thought highly of the two
disney cartoons
and it's not just because they can fire a harpoon
it's something like embodying the female
self-assurance,
strength of the soul,
embracing solitude like wind on a stroll
heart strong from a softening,
heart loved from singing just for singing
heart open like eye contact
that lasts longer than
just a few seconds
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 3:33 AM UTC
we met one night
hearts of fire
kisses sweet
passions dire
out came rope
and string we found
white gauze wrapping
honey ***** bound
kisses hot
mouths like butter
i tied her hard
her eyes did flutter
ankles to arms
head to feet
she started to sweat
her joints did meet
stressed and pink
i love her so
she looked up
and started to glow
oh you mean man
she said you brute
hurt me baby
am i not cute
i slapped her hard
on the face and the ***
bit her feet
she quaked and gasped
i used her mouth
oh she ****** and ******
and licked with lust
and then got ******
i love her ***
it was really fun
we loved and cumed
i am her sun
kisses torrid
i ate her like pie
for her love
i would gladly die
i tied her and bended
she arched and she folded
crushed her to pieces
and then re-moulded
she cried and begged
oh i adore
and hollered and squealed
give me some more
all in a swirl
eyes crossed and diffused
bent out of shape
and begged to be used
love turned to passion
and passion to madness
i did terrible things
she kissed me with gladness
we consumed each other
let out all that we feel
couldn't help our selves
and thats how we heal
out came rope
and string we found
white gauze wrapping
honey ***** bound
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 9:20 AM UTC
God smelled something foul
in the garden & thinking the
man had discovered manure,
god came down & found Adam
fast asleep w/ **** all over his face;
What have u been eating? shouted
the Lord, shaking the trees;
Adam awakened startled,
seeing god's fury: have u eaten
of the Tree of the Knowledge
of Good & Evil?
No! Lord, no! cried Adam,
It was the woman! she made
chocolate lava cake & I ate it,
whined the trembling
creature, face to the ground in
fear & awe; god walking
away shaking his head & saying,
put some clothes on, *******
what are clothes? called Adam;
god sitting down on a rock to
think things over was only mildly
surprised when Eve, bare skin
ethereal as summer rain came
& sat beside him; not exactly what u
had in mind, is he? she asked,
wrinkling her freckled pug nose;
nope, not at all, said god, but it's alright;
my kid's a carpenter; I'll get him down
here to patch things up; Eve stood
abruptly to her feet, heatedly wagging
pert ****** ***** A carpenter!
she hollered; well, I hope he learned
carpentry in medical school, she sniped,
marching into the brush & returning w/
a bowl of fresh fruit: hungry? she said;
| I could eat - - oh-ho-o! so,
u're the smart one!
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 7:07 PM UTC
Drawing things I cannot see,
Listening,
Keenly,
Too the strange things,
Coming from,
the albino dressed pavement smoothed,
Bedroom walls,
Braille textures,
slipping like termites,
or a strange smell,
dancing from the dusty old lady haired vent,
on the ceiling,
Braille raindrops,
escaping from your,
soul window sill,
fog,
gets in the room,
and we light cigarettes,
purple scented totem poled candles,
with out near future,
melting,
and dripping on the wooden counter-top,
which we dip our fingers into,
sticky like petroleum,
sticky like the sap from a forest broken snapped,
tree limb,
which we tasted,
which we ran danced hollered and orgasmed,
like the melting candle,
like the sapped,
broken kansas public tree limb,
and i,
took off your,
orange dress that you stole,
though only a few dollars,
i called bonnie,
you called me paradise,
though we danced gleefully,
in the slums snout snarling broken home windows,
pot-holes,untied shoes,untied fathers,lovers planning paradise,
inside the blue 80's oldsmobile,
with the stereo turned low,
low like the quiet hummingbird song,
of making love,
in the cold night,
under trees,
that was old,
and had probably seen many lovers,
come and go,
as its Fall leaves grew wings,
as its,
winters balding scalp,
scattered away,
like a field of dandelions,
or the birds,
that flew from nests,
only to fly south,
or like wise boxcar boxcar dharma bums,
sat on telephone wires,
at the intersection,
where two lovers planned paradise,
in the back-seat,
of a blue Oldsmobile,
and the night,
holy night,
and i,
**** mind wonderer without wings,
or sad singer leather boots harmonica whiskey drinker,
and Her,
white as stars,
dancing in a blind choreographed orchestra,
in the sky,
far,
far,
far,
even the highway,
has no exits,
to see this performance,
So i sit on a rock,
smoking a cigarette,
with a Fools smile,
as I,
watch beauty,
from the Key-hole,
that is,
Solitude.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 8:09 PM UTC
'Always Sleep With Your Shoes On' Series... #2 2 out of 3.
You're in bed covering each ear,
as beer bottles break when W
thrown against A
L
L
You're just a kid, not sure which one got hit again,
Ears covered so you don't know who hollered out
in pain, Another hot night
without any air
so your body is bare,
except at age six
you got your shoes
on in a quick fix,
Sure enough, it's 3 a.m,
Once again you hear daddy yell at mommy to get the kid and nothing else then he pushes you both out the house and
D
O
W
N
the steps.
Always sleep with your shoes on your feet,
getting comfortable is not worth the risk.
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 3:11 AM UTC
Raspberry pip boy lingered and hung around,
He was sweet, but with a tartness that juiced up your mouth,
He flowered in Spring, and swelled my heart up through Summer,
And I plucked him, and I ate him, and I begged for another,
But as I chewed up, my heart slid down my back,
As I was gulping down raspberries my tooth had cracked,
The raspberry pips had sunk deep and rooted
In between my poor teeth, how I hollered and hooted
"RASPBERRY PIP BOY ISN'T AS SWEET AS YOU THINK,
HE STAYS FAR TOO LONG, I'M STAINED BY HIS INK.
I CAN'T WASH HIM OUT, BELIEVE ME I'VE TRIED,
THAT RASPBERRY PIP BOY HAS JUST RUINED MY LIFE!!"
A former tooth model, my contract was lost,
To that Raspberry Pip Boy, his seeds, and tooth rot.
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 9:39 AM UTC
When I was younger
I slept in the top bunk
over my older brother
- Pretty soon we’re all going to die -
he was fond of saying
while we listened to Credence
Clearwater Revival on an old turntable
with a penny he taped to the arm
to make it sound like a $100
Pretty soon he got me saying the same
words, like moon, mosquitos and darkness
were in his ear, he’d have dreams of
naked women washing his feet
and sparrows looking out of his eyes
He hollered at old man death
when he was wanting some shuteye
- Nobody on earth is like me -
he’d wake up shouting not meaning
to disturb my sleep
He said - I am the white piano
they threw off the bridge -
- the snake bed and the shade tree -
- I am something, yes-sir-eee -
- I’m something not everybody wants
to believe - he’d say sipping on whiskey
bought from a woman up the holler
He told death to - kiss his white *** -
then holler at me to get out of bed
and go trim the grass around the stone
angels planted up in the high pasture.
Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 10:21 PM UTC
I met Virginia in a wave of sleet.
On Decatur, a hundred winters ago,
with a black iris, black hair in ponytail,
with a tongue like a nightcrawling widow,
Virginia whispered tornados behind the backs of the
grey-suited saxophone players, going blue in the cheeks,
under their blackface.
Under a flimsy sheet of moon sliver sky and a dim streetlight,
Virginia kicked a soda can along the cracking concrete.
With each bar we passed, I hollered, "Thank God we're alive!"
and danced a shapeless jig.
Near Williamson cemetery, Virginia's white knuckles laced into mine.
"The amount of time we have cheapens whatever purpose we have,"
Virginia hissed.
I caressed her serpentine neck.
A lone car's high beams
made Virginia's silhoutte tower above the cemetery gates,
made Virginia's black irises madden to poisonous yellow.
She loosened my grey necktie.
I let down her hair.
A sea of collected strands fell
like a closing curtain.
The distant saxophone ascended to heaven,
leaving me below,
leaving me below,
leaving me to spend the night bellowing for above.
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 4:35 AM UTC
I lay on the ground below
the curved hips of the hills at sunset
The aperture of my eyes, my *** my eyes
and the narrow escape
of mind from body
I am ten again
and they’re calling me falsey
“Big **** No bra!”
Shoving them into the lockers
of Holy Name’s pool
My eyes? Brown. My hair? Brown
My body? Invisible, lean and “Leave me alone!
or I’ll punch your lights out!”
Meanwhile, Mom is mortified
but not cause I’m banned from the stupid pool
All I want— is to run bare to the waist
Ride my bike, maniacal
Be a bird
Swipe ice from the milk truck
Marvel over maggots in garbage
Catch toads, caterpillars, pollywogs in jars
Later, sell lemonade— get rich!
…and pretend…pretend…
till the litany of our names, hollered from the porch
till the street lights come on….
*****
“This is for something you haven’t got yet”
says the matron of the fitting room
Bones in a bathing suit?
What I haven’t got?
or they haven’t got?
will never get—
in their worlds of curtained cubicles
Cause of death:
Strangulation by measuring tape!
*****
In my plaid two-piece
sunburned shoulders, wind-wild hair
By sweat and the afternoon’s imaginings
I built a fortress of sand and stones
to endure forever….
But she— shook the blanket
at the tide’s full reach
Peppered the air with an epoch
Clouds darkening
the wind-torqued sea
Finding my flip-flops, we—
trudged off…
into the changing… changing
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
His first love should've been basketball and his second, girls
because his name was Juan and he represented the white, red
and blue bandera, *Dominicano puro cien porciento del capital
entiendes compai?* understand homie?
and that label meant that he threw empty beer bottles
at abandoned houses and smoked second hand ****
because he was too broke to buy from the good dealers
and he hollered at girls with wide hips and short skirts that walked by
(oye mama tu si eres linda ven aquí!)
they would giggle and roll their eyes at him but of course
because he was one of those light skinned boys, the type
with light eyes and smooth brown hair that every girl dreamed
about, they would holler at him back the very next day
//
His first love was basketball and his second, was not
girls, his second love was words; it was the craziest ******* thing
in the world, to be a boy and not be crazy over women is one
thing, but to be Dominican and not in love with every muchacha
en el Barrio es una cosa de los maricones! as his best friend
would say as he shook his head disappointedly, muthafucka had
the finest beauties the Caribbean had to offer swooning as he
spoke, and he was in love with palabras de los gringos? but it didn’t
matter, he loved words like the junkies loved drugs and like
his best friend loved women, and while every other sin verguenza
on his block would dance to the hypnotizing beat of merengue and
bachata, he would watch by on the roof of the abandoned building
nearby and he would write it all down: how the lights of the neighborhood
had never seen more alive and how old man Victor looked youthful
dancing next to the neighborhood ***** and how his mother
looked happier than she had in a long time, swaying her body to the
calming voice of the old music she hadn't head in a while and
yes he was still the boy that threw beer bottles at abandoned windows
and smoked second hand **** because he was too broke
to afford the real stuff and he still hollered at girls who wore
shirts too low but in the shadow of all the happiness up on the roof,
he was not Juan, best basketball player on the team,
Dominicano cien porciento y no te lo olvides,
repping the white, red and blue bandera
instead he was Juan, the light skinned boy who liked the
palabras de los gringos because of the way they rolled off his tongue
and he had decided that he liked it better that way
(h.l.)
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
Just past the Rastafarian berry tree
Where bully beef boys tattooed their love’s names
On the tree’s outstretched arms,
A forgotten remnant lay
In relic and rot, its air choked with damp mildew and dust.
Not wishing to join Garvey’s gang
Or bow before Selassie’s seat,
I left Jah’s clenched jig hanging,
Allowed the inkers to indent incessantly,
Going solo into the house of rubble.
What a treasure!
From smudged, stale mascara,
The aged beauty’s heavy, dim eyes
Cast dim shadows on her rough, ***** neck
On which I now trod barefoot.
Her necklace of knackered newspapers
Hollered hoarsely through the overlying cardboard boxes,
Lowly lisping, ”Sovereign shed my lady once was
And shall forever more remain. Look not at her wilted skin –
Consider only this immortal necklace and live forever therein.”
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 2:08 AM UTC
I was watching TV
and the topic on the Geriatrics Show
was Life Support Systems -
you know, about how people are kept
on pipes and machines and tubes and liquid
and I hollered to my wife in the kitchen:
*“Darling, if ever I become life-dependent
on liquids and machines, just get rid of ‘em
and free me…”*
“Sure thing,” my faithful wife said
and she turned off the TV
and my cell phone and my laptop
and she emptied my bottles of wine and whisky
and then she turned to me and she said:
“I just freed you.”
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 7:14 AM UTC
there would be blank canvasses
empty words
silently echoing the pages of poems not written
of narrative never revealed
from muses overwhelming
spirits overflowing
onto sugar coated melodies
woven into lyrics that
pester and harass and permeate the sacred space of minds
there would be blank canvasses
empty words
of delicate curves or hips, wide like sandy beaches
immortalized by brush strokes or camera shutters
empty panels of superhero legends forgotten
there would be blank canvasses, empty words
of no church praises hollered over holy rollin piano riffs
but most definitely, most importantly,
there would be blank canvasses, empty words
and
hands that never itched
to craft golden scrolls onto the haggard loose leaves
residing in sharpie stained notebooks
and great wisdoms never told which ****** great minds
moves great minds
with melodious lyricism
which haunts souls
taunts souls
with the burning questions of shoes and ships and ceiling wax
there would be pens never emptied dry
cultivating piles of paper ***** with half *** rhymes, rhythms, and washed up metaphors
muses would never possess individuals
sleeplessly seeking to fill up forests worth of leaves
after suffering from the doldrums of writers block
blank canvasses, empty words
in a world without art
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 2:18 PM UTC
I get drunk on your hot summer sky eyes.
I get drunk on their sultry, reckless, bright
reminder of a fresher world when
we hollered off wind-swept cliffs and panting
ran heart-bursting through wild open spaces
when the world was new and strange but entire
-ly ours to command.
I got drunk on you.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 2:22 AM UTC
The music's best on the dark
side of town, I heard. It seemed miles
from home, after waiting in a long traffic jam
But the lights finally changed
from glamorous shining to dull neon, covered in smoke
drifting up from drifters outside the Black Cat.
By the fluorescent green sign, a cat
was painted, its fur dark
as the alley I stood in, engulfed in smoke.
The cat perched atop Miles
Davis's trumpet. Bums hassled me for change
and a few drummed on buckets, jamming
with a harmonica player, synched as jam
and peanut butter. I stepped into the Black Cat,
and from the facade saw no change.
The lights turned low, the club dark
as the alley outside. A Miles
record hovered through the smoke.
The people chattered like bees, smoking,
waiting for the players to jam.
At last, the bass player laid down a line miles
long, the drummer chinked in, and the cats
began to groove. They chilled my bones with dark
melodies, pounding through spooky chord changes.
Soon sunbeams shone through the storm, they changed
to an upbeat swing tune. The horn smoked,
hitting riffs unheard, astounding the dark
faces gazing on in awe. They jammed
endless as the ocean. The cats
started to play a popular Miles
song. The crowd hollered in Miles'
memory as the horn steered through the changes
with the skill of the legend of the Black Cat.
The band, nearly invisible through the haze of smoke
thick in the air, strawberry jam,
soon faded to dark.
Miles Davis’s ghost flowed through the smoke,
awakened by the chord changes, grooving to the jam.
The hippest cat alive or dead, now he plays in the dark.
Dec 26, 2009
Dec 26, 2009 at 11:06 PM UTC
In the middle of the night
With sleep still in my eyes
I stepped into my kitchen
And received quite a surprise
As I reached out my hand
And flicked the light on
There were balloons, confetti, party hats
With a banner that read -WELCOME HOME-
I'd caught thousands of roaches
In the middle of song
They all turned and looked at me strange
As if I'd done something wrong
I heard a scream from the crowd
A foreign language to me
The next thing I know
I'm knocked down to my knees
As I'm being dragged
Across the linoleum floor
I see a little red button
That opens up a trap door
I started getting real nervous
The deeper we went
If I was a cat with nine lives
I think eight I just spent
They took me before the king
King Ralph Roach was his name
I only knew that
Cause that's what his name tag displayed
I was assigned a public defender
But that did me no good
He spoke Roach, I spoke Human
Each other we never quite understood
"GUILTY!" Came the verdict
I hollered what was my crime!
"Interrupting a roach in the middle of having a good time"
Came the judges reply
Squishing to be my death
The day after tomorrows last night
I said that doesn't make any sense?!
Hey, we're roaches....we're not known for our timely insight
So here I sit in my cell
Wishing I could take it all back
If I had just not gotten up
For that late midnight snack
Wait....is that a tap, tap, tap
(You didn't think this was the end did you?)
As my hours getting late
A roach we'll call Chester
For anonymity sake
Told me to stop all that blubbering
I've come to break you out of here
I stood and we hugged
Which would be strange if it wasn't so weird
We slipped past room after room
With all kinds of parties inside
One thing you can say about roaches
They know how to have a good time
When we reached the surface
All I saw was blessed heavenly light
I went straight in and packed my bags
And gave the house to my Ex-Wife
(Okay, now it's the end!)
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 7:46 AM UTC
The sky grew dark
and the wind full voiced
so I furled my single sail.
I battened down the hatches
fearful of the coming gale
the clouds were low and threatening
They oft are this time of year.
They made me wish I could be somewhere,
anywhere, but here.
Random bolts of lightening streaked
across the sullen sky.
Waves took and shook my little boat.
I thought that I might die.
A tingle of anxiety
I felt it in my gut
Imagine how relieved I felt
when the director hollered "Cut!"
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 10:39 PM UTC
1)
my wife came out of the shower
last month
still unwashed and dry as a bone
You’ve forgotten, she snarled, *haven’t you,
to pay the water bill?*
Ooops! I’d done it again!
2)
last Monday
she came waving her hairdryer at me
and she screamed;
*You’ve forgotten, haven’t you -
to pay the power bill?*
Ooops! I’d done it again!
3)
last winter
she was trembling
and she said, shivering:
*You’ve forgotten
to pay the bill for the gas heating ,
haven’t you?*
Ooops! I’d done it again!
4)
and yesterday
when I returned home from work
I found everything in the house floating -
the chairs and the sofa
and the oven and the dog
and my wife too, upside down
up there in mid air
And she hollered:
*You’ve forgotten, haven’t you
to pay the gravity bill?*
And she reached out for my neck
as I levitated too
*Help! Somebody
Help! Anybody
Help us get back
down to earth!*
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
Woke up in a motel
Don't know where I was
How on earth I got here
What it is I'd done
Made it to the lobby
Breakfast being served
The look they gave me had no need
For the spoken word
Eggs and bacon filled my plate
And orange juice on the side
Stares and whispers overheard
"Sorry, did you say bride?!"
That's when she sat down next to me
My new blushing bride
I hollered to the waitress
Could I also get a side of cyanide
Was I just hung over
My mind was so clouded
What was I thinking
She moved closer and crowded
"My darling lovey
You seem confused"
Her soft sweet lips
I had to refuse
With teeth of green and looks that screamed
Of farm animals on the loose
Forget the fairy tale wedding
I think I married Mother Goose
Not quite and old hag
But no beauty was near
Or maybe that's the liquor speaking
I just need to get out of here
She huffed and puffed
When I would not embrace
But oh my heavens
I couldn't bear her face
She spoke about our future
And the children we would spawn
All i could think, if we had triplets
We could name them Wrong and Wrong and Wrong
I couldn't handle the thought
I had to get far far away
But "what happened last night.."
Was all I could say
So we went to the little white chapel
And found Elvis...of all places
He sent us to Marylin Monroe
Who handles all of his divorce cases
My darling bride was rather upset
But I couldn't handle being her groom
So I did what any man would
And rid myself of my gap toothed bride and her broom
Next time I wake up in a notel motel
And don't know who or where I am
I'll pack my bags right away
And call the quickest cab
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 11:40 AM UTC
I was up to my fingertips
Doing humanitarian shtick,
Visiting a nursing home
Where they're more dead
Than sick;
Playing and singing
And doing my licks
For those with clocks
Near the last tick.
They didn't mind
My performance was sick.
The woman occupying
The bed next door,
Would curse and swear
Like a Tudor *****
Together we were
Rocking the floor.
Just then the P.A
Called Code Blue,
I played on through what ensued..
What was I to do?
Then we heard
Code Red, Code Red,
The one next door yelled,
**** I'm dead?*
I heard her screech,
Code Pink, Code Pink!
I caught the refrain,
Played a chord,
The Tudor and I
Were in full accord.
What was I to think?
Code Brown, she bellowed,
Code Brown, she hollered,
Hitting the ground
Just near the toilet.
*Code Green,
Code Yellow,
Code White,
Code Black,
I'm the victim of a Rainbow attack.
**** it! **** I'm gonna die!
Don't they know I'm colour blind.*
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 8:59 AM UTC
Another day, another dollar
Or so the saying goes
You work so hard just to be hollered
At for bringing to work with you, your woes
You aren't a person once you've clocked in
You're not supposed to care
About the goings on in your own world
So **** it up, 'cause life's not fair
Always put your best foot forward
Nothing less than your best will suffice
Don't you think that a golden watch
On your superiors' wrist would look nice?
You're working for "the big man" now
Don't you understand?
Everything you do from here on out
Will add more cards to his hand
Try to come in when you're sick
Don't call off too much
How else will the higher ups
Pay for their daily corporate lunch?
Be happy with your current wage
You make enough to get by
If you ask for more, you could be fired
Without being given reason why
One day once you've given your all
You may be able to retire
They'll give you half of your former pay
As by law they are required
Month by month you'll receive your checks
Though they might not be enough to live
Your whole life they get to take take take
While you'll only ever give
At least now you can relax a bit
Maybe you can finally see
The whole world on a map before you
What it means to be broke, but "free"
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 9:22 AM UTC
The tread on yer shoes aint there.
The tread on yer shoes aint there nowhere.
Worn out beyond compare, the whole pair,
so you slipped off yer **** and fell down the stairs!
Ya hollered and yelled the moment ya fell,
but no one came to help!
A loud KABOOM, but no one in their rooms
could even hear ya yelp!
It rained that night ya stepped outside
to a nasty tumbling blunder!
Cuddled up, cozied up in our beds
cause we all just thought it was thunder.
Stomp Stomp Stomp like an old wet mop,
you was mad as a hornet's nest!
Had to sit through what happened to you,
and you made sure of it!
Said you was out there just a cryin for help,
while everyone just stayed put.
You reminded us again of what happened to you,
then bent over and showed yer ****
Not sayin that this matter is a funny disaster.
But seein that yer fine, don't mind the laughter!
Better go get new shoes today,
or this might happen again.
Land on yer **** like that, I say,
and you might just break yer chin!
Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 1:46 PM UTC
There once was an Eskimo!
Named Es-kee-mo-mo!
He was of Somolian Antartician,
Persuasion!
Just about this big,
Jaggedly he roamed about the country,
In search of some gravity.
Little did Es-kee-mo-mo know,
But what he looking for in fact,
Was his long lost sack.
He searched long and hard,
Along the tundriatic terrain,
But he never did quite find,
The bag ya dig?
They must have jumped out,
He hollered quite loud,
Enough to cause an avalanche,
Swept away in the wave,
Ol’ Es-kee-mo-mo couldn't believe,
That right up on top of the cliff,
Was his sack shining in the light.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:18 PM UTC