"jetpack" poems
Saturday night, I’m getting crazy as usual,
taking pictures of my cats because they just look so beautiful.
Yea, some people go out, but I’ve got so much to do,
boys line up to take me out on dates but I tell them to shoo.
“Who are these guys?” you wonder, but don’t worry about that,
you wouldn’t know them because, they’re from a secret, hot guy frat.
I stumbled upon it once when I was out doing cool stuff,
like dancing with a king, and jumping off of bluffs.
Then one day, I jumped right into the hot guys secret lair,
and after I landed they could do nothing but stare.
I thought that they were looking at the mole on my face,
and I was right, but they loved it and begged me to stay at their place.
Not for the night, but forever, they didn’t want me to leave,
and who can blame them, I’ve got a badass weave.
But I had to decline, I just wasn’t ready for that,
so they said, “Come back anytime, even if you get fat.”
And with tears in my eyes, I bid them goodbye,
started my jetpack, and flew off into the sky.
I don’t have pictures of any of this because they were burned up in the fire,
but I can definitely assure you that I’m not a ***** liar.
But anyway, back to what I’m doing tonight,
I know that you’ll be jealous, you can’t help it, that’s alright.
I’m meeting up with Michael Scott and crew, but that’s not really a big deal,
we see each other every day, one time he tried to cop a feel.
Well, I may have just imagined that, which is probably pretty weird,
But I gave up on normal long ago, like my mother always feared.
Which is why I’m sitting here on Saturday night, talking to some cats,
who have low self-esteem because the media made them think they’re fat.
Those cats on the MeowMix commercials always look so thin,
no matter how hard regular cats try, they can really never win.
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell them, “Let’s just have some fun.”
So now we’re watching TV, because, what else would we have done?
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 12:09 PM UTC
You created the distance between us
so don't come back to me
when I boost my jetpack
and fly away to my old passions.
Do not come back to me
when I have settled
with someone else
or when your love life
suddenly starts,
then seizes to exist.
People make time for what they love
but your speech was not justified
when you made me more
of an option than a priority.
Don't come back to me
when I move on and discard
your smooth lies
and when I scrub
traces of your touch
from my hands and thighs .
My candour has been effective
and my armour has been scathed.
However, I have suffered worse
so I will never wish for your return
or our past times.
Living in the past is recipe for destruction.
This is a fact so take the instruction.
With long strides, I have picked up my pace
and with time, you will be replaced .
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 12:13 PM UTC
Man and mouse holding hands, beholding
what they have done together.
A magic Marcelline, MO:
a portal to lands that beckon, but never compel.
Trees, silent water, castle walls dividing
off magic gardens and sacred
spaces.Tiki torches leading in
to a real rainforest with fake animals,
fedora'd adventurers and no dust
or hunger or poison. A whilring, infernal
rocket sprung from the mind
of Jules Verne, raisng your hopes that
one day you'll own that jetpack,
flying car, ticket to the moon.
A fairytale castle, draw-bridge down—
a glittering carousel inviting from behind forbidding walls.
A fort with wide open doors that fear only animatronic
Indians and where every frontiersman is a hero to be
emulated by your children.
You need not choose right away.
No need to be hasty. If you wish, you may
choose to stay here, to linger, the aroma of the popcorn
cart competing with the fragrance
of the popcorn blossoms on the sheltering trees
and the flowerbeds decorating, protecting
Walt's silent, inanimate memorial,
until the stars come out and
the crickets chirp in the voice of a
conscience content, and popcorn
lights form haunting outlines, constellations
telling whispered stories and seductively
suggesting that tomorrow you stand
in line for a new ride: falling in
love, signing the papers, applying
for that loan, giving it just
one more chance. Here, you cannot
sleep, but you will dream.
And rest in the heart, in the womb.
Jun 28, 2012
Jun 28, 2012 at 9:56 PM UTC
I'm not gonna let that keep me on the ground, JETPACK!
When I encounter a setback, press that button ignite my JETPACK!
Launch pad shrinks, disappear. Fly through atmosphere.
Plasma's tingling and I'm hearing the words that occur to me for no reason. What am I alive for? What will I die for? Why do I believe to others I'm an eye sore?
Am I fueled by another engine, Depression and Aggression, Confusion and agitation, Fly away on my JETPACK!
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 6:59 PM UTC
I wish I had a jetpack, so I could fly away.
Fly back to the start before my mistakes,
and while I'm stuck here on the ground.
I will not be afraid, cause sometimes life
can be hard so just play it safe.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 2:54 PM UTC
I push myself up
With the tips of my toes
Through the air, to the clouds
Wayheyhey here I go
I have no propeller
No jetpack, no wings
Who need them when dreams
Are such wondrous things
There’s nothing can stop me
From flying away
I don’t want to come down
So up here I will stay
It’s peaceful and warm
Way up here in the sky
There is nothing quite like
Being able to fly
I hover about
At the tops of the trees
Then I soar to the stars
Just by bending my knees
I travel so fast
Over cities and towns
When I see somewhere nice
I float gently down
I’ll have an ice-cream
And I’ll rest for a while
When it’s time to go home
I set off with a smile
I push myself up
With the tips of my toes
Through the air, back to bed
Wayheyhey, here I go
Jan 31, 2012
Jan 31, 2012 at 4:06 AM UTC
My spirit travels a road of smiles.
Streetlights are friends frolicking in place.
Mistakes pile up into traffic jams.
But I'm a walking jetpack.
Setbacks are happy trails.
Been there, done that, blazed the darkness.
I promise to go the way of the adventurer.
Getting lost is finding my way.
Staying chin up and heart out, a bobcat of a man.
I stand, in the onslaught, caught in the rain.
Insane are the naysayers shaking their heads.
They may as well stay in bed laying dead.
Never praying for anything.
This is for the adventurers out there inventing our truth.
Never losing our youth as we breathe it in from a cigarette.
And you can bet, when in danger, we don't become strangers to us.
Tragic turns to magic, fear turns to tears which hydrate our peace.
And moments of happiness that we clamor through.
Become the blueprints of our soul.
So when it's all said and done, we carry on our enchanted worlds.
For the life of the adventurer truly never unfolds.
-Carm 4/8/14
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 9:56 PM UTC
Jetpack... Icepick, how else?
are you the blue carpet, the
****** toon to my collagen?
Probably not.
Still, it was a nice ride.
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 11:55 AM UTC