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"kart" poems
Beyond your television Lies vast hills, along with many jumps and much thrill Mario jumps Zelda swings As Kirby swallows Donkey kong beats, Star fox flies ever so high While niko goes bowling Roman started to cry Meta knight stares ominously As a goomba cautiously walks A turtle shell turns blue While the Mario kart racers get mad too.... We all know sleeping dogs don't lie We joined a guild during an MMO war Where we smashed every single one of our keyboards
0
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 11:06 AM UTC
Video games
*Story.. Stories I have a story to tell It's a tragic one as usual* A day goes by. Silence reigns and birds cuckoo While this happens.. Two people sit under a tree Using it as a rendezvous For usual meetings They met... Once... In ten days They enjoyed it I helped another person and he tried to help me I did a better job of helping him that's what I think.. Anyways, once they met they enjoyed it they would talk together and climb a tree Play with a dog, which was a golden retriever They are big! It was a lot of fun Often playing Videogames like.. Mario kart..? That was a day and it happened on an occasional basis when both of them could spare some time from their daily time consuming life ---------------------------------------------------------------- One day however A bright sunny day A sunday afternoon filled with birds flying about nearly the end of the school year It was all going by wonderfully We had met another time because you called me and told me to help you out and just to relieve the stress that the school year had put on us We climbed a tree with a rope on it it was pretty tall about 10 feet high I remember talking about self harm.. ..and ways to **** oneself and I gave up climbing and jumped off the rope 6 feet straight down on my back/ankles It hurt like batshit crazy but i told you I managed through it then later when talking to our friends I let it slip I told her about my failed attempt I was really depressed after that It actually FAILED! Well, now more people knew about it and these rumors spread fast as you would know I was still fine with school just.. I  became more depressed My grades were fine I was nearly at the end of the year nearly there. nearly And then I realized that Mockingbirds are similar to humans they don't talk much at the time of crisis but they remember it, and pass it onwards They don't lie. Mockingbirds dont lie
0
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 8:13 PM UTC
Mockingbirds don't lie
*Story.. Stories I have a story to tell It's a tragic one as usual* A day goes by. Silence reigns and birds cuckoo While this happens.. Two people sit under a tree Using it as a rendezvous For usual meetings They met... Once... In ten days They enjoyed it I helped another person and he tried to help me I did a better job of helping him that's what I think.. Anyways, once they met they enjoyed it they would talk together and climb a tree Play with a dog, which was a golden retriever They are big! It was a lot of fun Often playing Videogames like.. Mario kart..? That was a day and it happened on an occasional basis when both of them could spare some time from their daily time consuming life ---------------------------------------------------------------- One day however A bright sunny day A sunday afternoon filled with birds flying about nearly the end of the school year It was all going by wonderfully We had met another time because you called me and told me to help you out and just to relieve the stress that the school year had put on us We climbed a tree with a rope on it it was pretty tall about 10 feet high I remember talking about self harm.. ..and ways to **** oneself and I gave up climbing and jumped off the rope 6 feet straight down on my back/ankles It hurt like batshit crazy but i told you I managed through it then later when talking to our friends I let it slip I told her about my failed attempt I was really depressed after that It actually FAILED! Well, now more people knew about it and these rumors spread fast as you would know I was still fine with school just.. I  became more depressed My grades were fine I was nearly at the end of the year nearly there. nearly And then I realized that Mockingbirds are similar to humans they don't talk much at the time of crisis but they remember it, and pass it onwards They don't lie. Mockingbirds dont lie
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84
Every time I touch a controller I set a new highscore I said a new highscore. Look out behind you, mother ****** I capped that *** You should've watched your back. Now I got an L-shaped block Watch as I drop it in that L-shaped slot. Haters gotta throw the blue turtle shell, Because they can't keep their kart on Rainbow Road. Donkey's going to throw some barrels at me; Don't worry princess, watch me jump. I promise I won't get hit, not even once. Hey there champ look right here; I just stuck a plas grenade On you right ear. Lucky shot? So you say. Still watching me tea-bag you From the grave. Pilot Wings, Punch-Out, Mario Madden, Sonic or GTA It doesn't really matter The number of pixels we play. D-Pad or joystick, Night or day, It doesn't really matter how you play, Put me on tron I'll blow you away. Turtles in Time: You take that next slice. Even blindfolded your no match For my SuperScope. Tony Hawk, what a joke! In Pacman or Galaga in space Even with the Kunami Code You've got no hope. So the next time you hear Scorpion yell "Get over here!" Have no fear A Sonic Boom will soon be there. Busting out Atari's Pong? Noob, I'll pwn you One-thousand to none. Hell, not even Parapa the Rappa Can touch my rhymes. Read those initials That score is mine. I said read those initials; That score is mine.
0
Jun 26, 2011
Jun 26, 2011 at 1:38 AM UTC
Gamer
This isn't going to be much of a poem, just a thought; something that I was thinking about today. I was asked if it was weird to have dated my ex, since he was 5'5, one inch shorter than I am. And you know what, I've dated professional go-kart racers, jujitsu gold medalists and kick boxers, yes, all much taller than I am, however, none of them made me feel as safe as my 5'5 hockey player did. So the answer to that question, which actually surprised me as well, is no. It was not weird. It was not anything but another relationship, with another boy, who proved to be much more than how tall he was. Height does not matter to me and I don't see it ever mattering because he made me feel just as loved as someone twice his size could have. And even though he turned out to be a complete **** head, that was not because of his small size, that was because he was, and is, a ****** person. Case closed. By Chloe Elizabeth
0
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 8:29 PM UTC
My 5'5 Hockey Player
So after we got to the go-kart place, we adjusted our hats, and recorded our thoughts, and until someone shouted our monikers (Tasters of Life and Cool Guys,) we took turns at the cage while the others recalled their most Jersey-like memories. Somebody died on the beach, and they chose to shut down our requests for more info. We ate with the lifeguard who shook when he spoke.
0
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 12:10 PM UTC
The Lifeguard
I have a fear, it's not that I'm afraid of the future, I'm afraid of a realization, one I had last week. What if... What if it's downhill from here? My childhood was amazing, my parents were excellent, but the real issue was my friends. The fun we had was real, it's just not the same, academic discussion, scientific deduction, dissection of stories and ideals, what's it all mean? My favorite memories are not of discussion, but action, actions I keep written on a piece of paper, strapped tightly to my chest, a eulogy of youth, time spent as kids. Through the haze of years I see, low rate movies, bonfires burning just a little too bright, Wendy's runs in the dead of night, skinny dipping out on the lake, firecrackers bursting over head, roman candles, no small talk, real talk, girls, near death experience, you were there right?! Mario Kart, video games, disgusting food combination, skating behind the moped, sledding behind the SUV, basketball on black tar, mustard spilled all over the car, splints and broken wrists, word games, collective humor, stupid and indecipherable, socks with sandals, up all night talking in the basement, not a care in the world, no ambition, dumb little kids, messing around doing dumb things, throwing common convention in the fire-pit, flickering flames, nostalgia on release, gone our separate ways. I had realization last week, those guys weren't my friends, they were my brothers.
0
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 2:53 AM UTC
Flickers of Nostaliga
Run through expensive hotels Just to come home, play Mario Kart in our underwear A high-stake love, we burn like fire and cry like monsoons Holiday flashes become traditions, Movements of our hands and our arms keep the peace The making of our love sneaky and frequent. Ask you to run away with me into the moonlight To never be seen again Messy wild and barely free Eighteen with too many cares and too many scars to hold alone So let's hold them together You can't heal my wounds But you help relieve the pain Four hands and two hearts ache for one another Let's build a fort under your desk Stay there till the morning light. Movies I can't help to sleep through Making out through every *** scene l'll spoon you, kiss your bare back Hold you tighter than Drive until there's no more road, Hands on knees light in the rearview mirror driving in lingerie just for the ******* risk Showers shared soothe the soul so hold me close and dear Wash my hair and I'll wash yours. The spot in my back that only you can reach. Feel your heart beat through your chest Your wet hair slicked back Piercing blue eyes that melt me like wax and a flame you are my flame. We're messy and wild and inconsistent and angry and loving and full of so much. Keep me safe and ill keep you wild Until you return, my dear.
0
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 9:43 AM UTC
We’re a disaster.
Two small boys stand in the forest, huddled around the burning husk of an old go-kart. A mute snow falls, sanding away the sharp shapes of evening. As the tired light fades back into frayed rows of black pine, the boys begin to silently sway. And soon, they nestle in nightshade, are bewitched by the murmur of milk. Their eyes reflect the Moon. Not her blush. Her distance. Transfixed by the twitch of fire, the still of night, the boys stare into the metal husk at their feet. Their hands begin to flutter as in a death dance, moth-like, delicate as rice paper cranes. Small dim creatures, cliff birds, hollow with desire, tangled in night drapes and flame.
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Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 4:12 PM UTC
milk lust
Ladies and Gentlemen Sheeple of all kind Come on out to McMonsantoLand We have rides like GM-gO Kart Racing The Circle Of Life Ferris wheel Where you can see life from birth to death In one short genetically altered cycle And don’t forget to visit our horror house The Organic Farmers’ Revenge It’s guaranteed to scare you out of your overalls! Let your kids loose in the Government Playpen Let them pretend to run the world And see how much money It doesn’t take To own the government Don’t forget to stop by Game Row And play the BT ***** Exploder Win some of our precious one-time use only seeds And grow your very own food clones! And if that’s not enough, Try some of our delicious frankenfoods But beware They may try you first! Come one Come all A perfect place for the whole family McMonsantoLand!
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Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 8:10 PM UTC
McMonsantoLand
I wanted to be there with her downtown before she had to work so i could plant one on her at four and say,"your mom grew up eight hours ahead of us. so there's you new years kiss" but i wasn't i left her on facebook with a quick,"brb" cause i had to run to the store to buy biscuits for dinner, and with my family, that become a half hour trip two blocks up the road. I got back and she'd already left so I watched the clock change to four, went into the bathroom and cut, a few times not a full relapse. just enough for blood, not to feel anything, not like i did a year ago, screaming at the world at the stroke up midnight, one knife in my hand, another somewhere on my dark bed the neighbors riding their go-kart drunk outside. I bite my lip and keep my face looking rougher than most days anymore but, at midnight I don't break. And the tears and blood stay in my body tonight leaving only old tears tracks on my tired, bruised cheeks and four recently dry scars on my hairy, pre-scarred leg. And i sit here in this worn office chair watching peoples words flit by on this screen when her name appears, just home from work. i didn't expect to see her, but she stopped to simply wish me the best before she collapsed onto her bed after a long horrible day that's left her so exhausted i can't even ask. but she leaves and so do I I hope she's smiling half as much as I am, but she probably isn't. so I tell myself "someday i'll make it so she is, because of me". Sometimes the promises to myself that I'm sure are impossible are the ones that help me fall asleep, and I'm asleep before I hit the mattress ©Brandon Webb 2012
0
Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 5:16 AM UTC
Untitled
I wanted to be there with her downtown before she had to work so i could plant one on her at four and say,"your mom grew up eight hours ahead of us. so there's you new years kiss" but i wasn't i left her on facebook with a quick,"brb" cause i had to run to the store to buy biscuits for dinner, and with my family, that become a half hour trip two blocks up the road. I got back and she'd already left so I watched the clock change to four, went into the bathroom and cut, a few times not a full relapse. just enough for blood, not to feel anything, not like i did a year ago, screaming at the world at the stroke up midnight, one knife in my hand, another somewhere on my dark bed the neighbors riding their go-kart drunk outside. I bite my lip and keep my face looking rougher than most days anymore but, at midnight I don't break. And the tears and blood stay in my body tonight leaving only old tears tracks on my tired, bruised cheeks and four recently dry scars on my hairy, pre-scarred leg. And i sit here in this worn office chair watching peoples words flit by on this screen when her name appears, just home from work. i didn't expect to see her, but she stopped to simply wish me the best before she collapsed onto her bed after a long horrible day that's left her so exhausted i can't even ask. but she leaves and so do I I hope she's smiling half as much as I am, but she probably isn't. so I tell myself "someday i'll make it so she is, because of me". Sometimes the promises to myself that I'm sure are impossible are the ones that help me fall asleep, and I'm asleep before I hit the mattress ©Brandon Webb 2012
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56
I'm so ******* tired and yet I can't seem to rest. This isn't a dream, so how can I wake up? How can I escape? Tell me! Shouldn't there be an exit sign in bright green or red lights? It's a hazard not to have them and yet it seems I'm the hazard. How do I escape? How can I escape the demon inside of me if I am the demon?! I looked under the bed for the demon, but it's all in my head. It's controlling me. I can't escape this dream. Or is it reality?! I can't rest! My mind is racing. - Racing. It's like Mario Kart. If someone throws something and I happen to land on it I lose control and I fall behind, slowing down. People don't realize how they affect me. How do I win this race if I'm racing the thing inside me? How do I defeat my demon?! How do I defeat it without destroying myself?! I need to rest! But I keep lapping around and falling behind. I keep my problems under my bed, that's where I thought my demon would be. But my demon is the problem. I'm the problem…- I'm the.. problem. But I can't fix my problems when I'm tired. And no one but my demon is around to help me. I really need to rest… but my bed is cold and bare, and I hug the only thing I have.. My demon... Myself… I only have myself… this world is a race, and I'm falling behind. You won, I ran out of time.. I can finally rest...
0
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 12:34 AM UTC
This World is a Race
Through the fence, we slipped, scratched and torn, but the world behind us was nothing— this was ours. Rubber giants piled high, a kingdom built from wreckage, the smell of earth and metal mixing with the air we claimed. We whispered our plans, wild as the grasshoppers we caught— sting and laughter tangled together as we spun tales of escape. The owner’s anger didn’t faze us, her shouts just wind against the roar of our hearts. We built our thrones in crooked trees, a couch our crown, leaning like a dream too big to stand. The go kart didn’t run, but we rode it anyway, down the hill that should’ve swallowed us whole, laughing at danger, at the world that couldn’t keep up. Bruised and broken, we held each other, fighting wars we couldn’t win except here, in the tire club. In this space, we were never less than fierce, our bond woven with the secrets we kept and the mischief we shared. A sacred place— where the world outside couldn’t touch us, where we were fireproof, surviving everything but the burn of our own laughter.
0
Mar 17, 2025
Mar 17, 2025 at 5:23 PM UTC
Tire Club
your voice is snow crunching beneath my feet early februrary and leafs kart wheeling over freshly cut grass late october your voice is rain tip toeing down my bedroom window in spring it's a gentle yawn a tired "I love you" a fresh *** of coffee brewing at six in the morning your voice is my xanax instant comfort i'll be okay, as soon as i hear you
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Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 12:04 PM UTC
Phone Calls To Home
There are many things that you could teach me.       to snowboard       to be good at Mario Kart       to laugh and have fun on my own       to kiss with passion       to let my walls down There are some things that I could teach you.       to drive a stick-shift       to do Pre-Calc       to speak French       to love other sports There are things we could help each other on.       to get better at soccer       to fix cars Mario Kart is your SPECIALTY-as you say. I've been driving a manual for three years. I know about classic cars. You know about new ones under the classic name. I'd like to say that maybe we could have deeper conversations, but we already do that now. What could beat the PG-13 discussions we have? If anyone took them out of context, they'd be rated X. By our word choice. But within context, they're perfectly harmless. We make plans but if we're gonna do anything you might as well fill those shoes and take care of me. Because I'd do the same for you. Parce, bébé, je pense que je suis tomber pour vous.
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Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
We're Making Our Way Down
Cloud gazing, and yet head hung low Duct workers maintain their pumps Assumptions of the first red curtain show Will the Black Lady come up trumps? Defending she does of a savage blow Boundaries pass, still have that lump Fear dissipates fast, you just know Wet fish slap, touch down bump Mission seamed so clear at this fresh start No predictions of a brain confuddulation Hike, zigzag, spin to the coldest part Lump no longer lonely, face mutation Back to back days of kart Winning is a fictitious temptation Easy(ish)-flow braced up for the heart No longer now is there frustration Excitement and passion, give me a smack ‘Give a **** overtakes fear in a split Dee Bath bound, spells **** good craic ‘cos you know darlin’, you are fit! Anticipations of caressing your back I’ve even tidied up my flat of a pit! Panic not of spending a whack Fly when cheapest, I’ll see you in a bit…
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Jul 16, 2010
Jul 16, 2010 at 2:46 AM UTC
Monkey 4 Pink
The Tightrope I know I said he's my favorite And it's true. But, he can't always attend to my needs He can't always do everything Like I want him to do. Because he has his own life, you know? His own friends Who he likes better than me And I get that, really Maybe you don't understand But take this for example: During a birthday party, he was there I didn't talk to him at all Why? Because he acted so happy Shouting, "Why is this game teaching kids to do drugs?" When someone yelled that he got "four-twenty" coins playing Super Mario Kart And I didn't want to ruin it. Because I'm afraid Afraid if I do something I'll tip the candle And break the tightrope But you're like, he's not like that. He'll still be your friend. Whatever you did. He's not that mean, right? I'll have to remind you It wasn't always like this It took a long time For us to be even friends. I mean, think about it I thought he hated me for half a year last year, And at one point, he really did. Not even that, look before All those years That had passed And remember, When there was a barrier? That may have changed But only for one part: Online Because I'm afraid Afraid if I do something I'll tip the candle And break the tightrope I should be grateful That we got this far How he still cares Even if only a little I shouldn't be sad And so I distract myself From dreams That could never be true And then I wake up So I'm afraid Afraid if I do something I'll tip the candle And break the tightrope And blindfolded I'll fall ---------- The Candle You may be the blindfolded tightrope walker That can fall if you tip the candle But the candle is just another car crash On a highway, as The candle never burns fast enough To cut the tightrope You may get to the other side And the rope is only singed Besides, I can be the net below you So don’t be afraid I'll always be here for you
0
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 7:30 PM UTC
The Tightrope Walker (a two part poem)
The Tightrope I know I said he's my favorite And it's true. But, he can't always attend to my needs He can't always do everything Like I want him to do. Because he has his own life, you know? His own friends Who he likes better than me And I get that, really Maybe you don't understand But take this for example: During a birthday party, he was there I didn't talk to him at all Why? Because he acted so happy Shouting, "Why is this game teaching kids to do drugs?" When someone yelled that he got "four-twenty" coins playing Super Mario Kart And I didn't want to ruin it. Because I'm afraid Afraid if I do something I'll tip the candle And break the tightrope But you're like, he's not like that. He'll still be your friend. Whatever you did. He's not that mean, right? I'll have to remind you It wasn't always like this It took a long time For us to be even friends. I mean, think about it I thought he hated me for half a year last year, And at one point, he really did. Not even that, look before All those years That had passed And remember, When there was a barrier? That may have changed But only for one part: Online Because I'm afraid Afraid if I do something I'll tip the candle And break the tightrope I should be grateful That we got this far How he still cares Even if only a little I shouldn't be sad And so I distract myself From dreams That could never be true And then I wake up So I'm afraid Afraid if I do something I'll tip the candle And break the tightrope And blindfolded I'll fall ---------- The Candle You may be the blindfolded tightrope walker That can fall if you tip the candle But the candle is just another car crash On a highway, as The candle never burns fast enough To cut the tightrope You may get to the other side And the rope is only singed Besides, I can be the net below you So don’t be afraid I'll always be here for you
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He feels like sharing memes and finishing burritos; like snuggling on a bench when I'm shivering and letting me wear his jacket the wrong way. He feels like long phone calls and sarcastic remarks; like feeding ducks, and helping kids, and going kart racing, and being terrible at Mario kart. He feels like silly puns and bad humor, all the while still putting butterflies in my stomach. He feels like the heat in my cheeks when my classmates ask me about where my bracelets came from, and the pride in my heart when they say that he's cute. He feels like kissing in a park, holding hands next to fireworks,  and giggling at the movies. He feels like sunshine and Rex Orange County. He feels like home, like someone who will always be able to make me smile, like someone who will endure a hug even if its awkward. But he also feels like crying at 10pm in my room on Thanksgiving and clutching my chest because I can hardly breathe.  He is in every sad song I've ever heard, and every depressingly artful photo I see. He is the bittersweet memory of a lost young love, and the fractured, splintery aftermath of trying to recover. He is sitting in a park alone for an hour, crying because you dont know if he's even going to come.  He is the anxiety of being ignored for three weeks, then showing up to a party I'm at. He is the tear stained pillowcase from every time he has asked, "are you a waste of my time?" -- each one a separate fist to the stomach. He is the fear of never knowing what is going on in his mind and the constant worry of not being enough. He is the sadness and frustration of every Sunday morning with an empty chair. He is the moments I lie on the cold wood of my bedroom floor in the greying sunlight, salt mixing with my hair, and feeling empty. He is like the ache between my ribs everytime I'm left on read. But he still feels like home, and he still feels like the only love I've ever known. And it's all about how it feels, right?  And it's okay as long as he doesn't hurt those feelings... Right?
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Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 8:11 PM UTC
Right?
He feels like sharing memes and finishing burritos; like snuggling on a bench when I'm shivering and letting me wear his jacket the wrong way. He feels like long phone calls and sarcastic remarks; like feeding ducks, and helping kids, and going kart racing, and being terrible at Mario kart. He feels like silly puns and bad humor, all the while still putting butterflies in my stomach. He feels like the heat in my cheeks when my classmates ask me about where my bracelets came from, and the pride in my heart when they say that he's cute. He feels like kissing in a park, holding hands next to fireworks,  and giggling at the movies. He feels like sunshine and Rex Orange County. He feels like home, like someone who will always be able to make me smile, like someone who will endure a hug even if its awkward. But he also feels like crying at 10pm in my room on Thanksgiving and clutching my chest because I can hardly breathe.  He is in every sad song I've ever heard, and every depressingly artful photo I see. He is the bittersweet memory of a lost young love, and the fractured, splintery aftermath of trying to recover. He is sitting in a park alone for an hour, crying because you dont know if he's even going to come.  He is the anxiety of being ignored for three weeks, then showing up to a party I'm at. He is the tear stained pillowcase from every time he has asked, "are you a waste of my time?" -- each one a separate fist to the stomach. He is the fear of never knowing what is going on in his mind and the constant worry of not being enough. He is the sadness and frustration of every Sunday morning with an empty chair. He is the moments I lie on the cold wood of my bedroom floor in the greying sunlight, salt mixing with my hair, and feeling empty. He is like the ache between my ribs everytime I'm left on read. But he still feels like home, and he still feels like the only love I've ever known. And it's all about how it feels, right?  And it's okay as long as he doesn't hurt those feelings... Right?
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4
Green Blue Gold Many colors Earth has many colors Earth has many mysteries Earth has many creatures Earth has been alive for millions of years But what's to say Earth won't die Earths main enemies you ask? The only creatures that can talk The only creatures that can drive The only creatures that create and destroy Humans Humans need to stop Humans need to change Humans need to learn to grow A flower would be the perfect teacher An animal would be the perfect master to the student I would know I ride horses And even though I have a human instructor My ultimate teacher is my four legged go kart
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Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 10:12 PM UTC
Don't Destroy The Mother
Like a lightning bolt, on the last stretch, of the last lap, of Rainbow Road, in Mario Kart... You leave me wondering how life could be so cold, I'm falling apart, and recalling the start, of our endless summer. Went from loving her heart, to trying to take it from her. So I can make it tremor, shake and quake, and sever. The debate of hate holds no weight forever. Love doesn't wait for you to stay a beggar, and showing up at my place, doesn't make it better. You're the bad part, and that far from gratitude. Your attitude has challenged you, Boo, and that's the saddest truth. I was doing what I had to do. You think no one can handle you? You can't handle yourself that's exactly why you're mad at you. Denial lifestyle. You've been living for a while, but haven't felt alive since the day you had your child. He's not the only one that's damaged from you always acting wild. Always on some **** ****** off and getting loud. But if nobody listens, the only thing missing from the vision, is another unsuspecting victim to dig your petty grips in. Hate with love mixed in Mixed up, you missed out On this, how? The distance. No more goodnight kisses, here's some goodbye wishes. You've burned a lot of bridges, but I heard a lot about, these good fine fishes. No longer distressed. You're just my dismissed, distrusted, mistress.
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Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 9:26 PM UTC
All over the place
sitting cross-legged on the floor bare right foot over left knee, tilting the controls like that will give you more control as a kart hurtles down rainbow road— ever the hardest track, but the one to which every child comes back time and again—and to think some of us will live there, will love in prisms of light with no railings, sit among the stars and fold paper cranes when people ask us to explain our pride as if they have never heard of love. when you fall off the edge everything goes dark but in this life the ghosts don't float you above it all to get your bearings back; somehow you have to do it without the benefit of afar; the stars don't spin around your head while you count your scars; in this life the ghosts are dead. I turned off the TV, I watched a bird cross the street, scurrying on its little feet and hopping onto the curb. It did not use its wings once. It does not need to see things from far away like I do.
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Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 12:59 AM UTC
rainbow road
The second light of sunrise filters through the blinds of a broken transom window, gliding the kitchen. There’s an instant in which bottomless jars, worn out dishes and a headless Mickey magnet that has fallen off the fridge Seem to levitate in a sea of dusty honey. I haven’t witnessed the scene. I think about all the other ordinary prodigies That must be happening somewhere. A trembling chrysanthemum blossoms in the frosty gardens of Nagoya. Six grey wolves fail to hunt down a white deerling. A middle aged man whispers into a hollowed stonebrick, then covers his secret with mud. Two  giraffes disappear in the middle of a starlit Colosseum, to the astonishment of a roman dilettante. Twenty years of boredom; then an ex con feels the tact of dewy grass under his feet again. In a balcony over the Seine, two lovers prepare a padlock. Some skinny kid from La Matanza scores a last minute free kick to win the neighborhood derby. A pretentious teenager watches The purple rose of Cairo for the first time, and  discovers his true calling. Days before dying, an old man stops by a bakery and inhales the same caramel fragrance he would inhale in the afternoons of his childhood summers. An older brother decides to throw a game of Mario Kart to his sibling. On a deserted reed bed, a blackbird sings the most beautiful tune in the world. There is no one there to listen. A single mother finishes cooking breakfast for his son, and decides to let him sleep for another five minutes. A physics grad student solves the meaningless quantum noise model that’s been torturing him for weeks, and stops wondering why he didn't choose to be a lawyer Two old friends share the same espresso in a hidden Manhattan coffeehouse, perhaps for the last time.   None of this everyday miracles are happening to me.
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Oct 7, 2019
Oct 7, 2019 at 11:24 AM UTC
Ordinary Prodigies
The second light of sunrise filters through the blinds of a broken transom window, gliding the kitchen. There’s an instant in which bottomless jars, worn out dishes and a headless Mickey magnet that has fallen off the fridge Seem to levitate in a sea of dusty honey. I haven’t witnessed the scene. I think about all the other ordinary prodigies That must be happening somewhere. A trembling chrysanthemum blossoms in the frosty gardens of Nagoya. Six grey wolves fail to hunt down a white deerling. A middle aged man whispers into a hollowed stonebrick, then covers his secret with mud. Two  giraffes disappear in the middle of a starlit Colosseum, to the astonishment of a roman dilettante. Twenty years of boredom; then an ex con feels the tact of dewy grass under his feet again. In a balcony over the Seine, two lovers prepare a padlock. Some skinny kid from La Matanza scores a last minute free kick to win the neighborhood derby. A pretentious teenager watches The purple rose of Cairo for the first time, and  discovers his true calling. Days before dying, an old man stops by a bakery and inhales the same caramel fragrance he would inhale in the afternoons of his childhood summers. An older brother decides to throw a game of Mario Kart to his sibling. On a deserted reed bed, a blackbird sings the most beautiful tune in the world. There is no one there to listen. A single mother finishes cooking breakfast for his son, and decides to let him sleep for another five minutes. A physics grad student solves the meaningless quantum noise model that’s been torturing him for weeks, and stops wondering why he didn't choose to be a lawyer Two old friends share the same espresso in a hidden Manhattan coffeehouse, perhaps for the last time.   None of this everyday miracles are happening to me.
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25
a man walks a tight rope, the wind does kart wheels across his nose reminding him of unwelcome territory and the rope complains bitterly about how he's unfit for the job. holding the balance of one man's life is too much for me it scoffs. the man laughs. life? he thinks. what a unfortunate thing to be a part of.
0
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
Tight Rope
Hey looky here is the greatest Everybody call him shameless ******* call him tameless And dudes call him famous He pull up on the block **** wow look at his paces" Even though I got them braces Errbody be actin like they aced it Because my words resonate like time and spaces Don't check your watch I made it Time, I slayed it, ******* I played it No ps4 just mario kart cause I first placed it Everybody call me faceless No emotions no nun ***** I'm tasteless I'm like the fake DNA on a crime scene, I'm trace less Yet Im still out here solvin all these cases Still ******* hittin me up with all they regrets They think they made a heart theft But really I could care less Nah ***** just cut left You say you miss me but you the one that left I'm not surprised I know I was the best I know I got you stressed But nah I want a repel cuz now you is a pest But still life is blessed Bih I bet you you failed the test Atleast you you gon be with the rest To keep you company in these hard times and de-stress People call me playa, but I prefer, the finesse Wipin yo money away, like a cleanex Look now I got an effect I got these people tryna flex Diss me boy yo shoes, is that payless? You lil kid with untied laces, nah face it You better pray to God I roast you with dem praises No J's No K's you be boostin but look like a mess Boi you look like a bird go fly, to your nest You look tired from flexin on me go, take a rest Summer 2k17 the takeover finna be the best What can I say right now life is just blessed.
0
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 12:18 PM UTC
Blessed
Hey looky here is the greatest Everybody call him shameless ******* call him tameless And dudes call him famous He pull up on the block **** wow look at his paces" Even though I got them braces Errbody be actin like they aced it Because my words resonate like time and spaces Don't check your watch I made it Time, I slayed it, ******* I played it No ps4 just mario kart cause I first placed it Everybody call me faceless No emotions no nun ***** I'm tasteless I'm like the fake DNA on a crime scene, I'm trace less Yet Im still out here solvin all these cases Still ******* hittin me up with all they regrets They think they made a heart theft But really I could care less Nah ***** just cut left You say you miss me but you the one that left I'm not surprised I know I was the best I know I got you stressed But nah I want a repel cuz now you is a pest But still life is blessed Bih I bet you you failed the test Atleast you you gon be with the rest To keep you company in these hard times and de-stress People call me playa, but I prefer, the finesse Wipin yo money away, like a cleanex Look now I got an effect I got these people tryna flex Diss me boy yo shoes, is that payless? You lil kid with untied laces, nah face it You better pray to God I roast you with dem praises No J's No K's you be boostin but look like a mess Boi you look like a bird go fly, to your nest You look tired from flexin on me go, take a rest Summer 2k17 the takeover finna be the best What can I say right now life is just blessed.
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40
Chillin on the west side playing my song got that kia soul with my cheap shades on gonna run right through the night jump off the gate fall to the ground it dont matter, still hitting this town oh it never felt so right Chillin on the sofa with a tank top super califragilistic down to my socks let it go right to my head tv screen, mario kart everybody knows that I get a head start and its never left unsaid
0
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 5:47 AM UTC
Untitled
reality is like Mario Kart dropping endless bananas on my heart and time has gone too far with all its technology that claims to be smart full of knowledge you can see yet it goes dark for love so I depart I've had enough
0
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 6:29 AM UTC
Mario Kart