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Bags Oct 2012
A pedal kicker walks forwards
A pedal kicker doesn't think a lot.
A pedal kicker tears at his courage cage.
A pedal kicker doesn't care about you.
A pedal kicker makes mistakes.
A pedal kicker doesn't give a ****.
A pedal kicker doesn't always get things done.
A pedal kicker has a fleeting mind.
A pedal kicker aims too high.
A pedal kicker supplies orphanages.
A pedal kicker eats small people.
A pedal kicker eats themselves.
A pedal kicker eats food.
A pedal kicker doesn't have to pretend.
A pedal kicker gets things done too fast.
Breeze-Mist Jun 2017
I'm walking down a path I know
I got the volume on full blast
I've still got thousands of verses to go
I intend to make each last
But someone walks up to me
Telling me to cease and desist
I begrudgingly comply
But in my mind, I say this:

Don't talk to me now, my headphones are on
I'm dancing in my mind to my song
My feet match the kicker, my heart beats the snare
In this moment, I don't have a care
So while I've got my headphones on
Please take note, I'll carry on

It's the end of the day, I'm finally home
All homework and chores have been done
So I walk up to my room, warm and alone
And soon the phone's concert has begun

So I say
Don't talk to me now, my headphones are on
I'm dancing in my mind to my song
My feet match the kicker, my heart beats the snare
In this moment, I don't have a care
So while I've got my headphones on
Please take note, I'll carry on

I've got two more hours on this ride
Through a long and quiet night
But I've got a little help by my side
To get me to the morning light

So I say
Don't talk to me now, my headphones are on
I'm dancing in my mind to my song
My feet match the kicker, my heart beats the snare
In this moment, I don't have a care
So while I've got my headphones on
Please take note, I'll carry on

Don't talk to me now, my headphones are on
I'm dancing in my mind to my song
My feet match the kicker, my heart beats the snare
In this moment, I don't have a care
So while I've got my headphones on
Please take note, I'll carry on
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
He was blown>>>>
>>>> away_--- from
my lace-up
Is She his blue
Mood tie set any bet
to walk the talk

At your own pace
The lustful wake up she
got the face

The edge of his rim sneaker
So prim who is proper
On the brim of ecstasy
He puts sugar on my tongue

Rumors like the "Talking Heads"
All in the bedding sneaker
Jane of the jungle wild tongue
She races Tarzan swinging sneakers
You and I tripped over dreams the sneaker?
Lip to lip disaster

The "Cyberwar" stepped on melting
Gold *** of tar
The loud blaster she moves the
Starwars so far

He could eat her up
his checkered black and white flag
Like a lobster claw his last draw

The racer mouth sponsor

She was born 2-B that way
sneakers love 3 some run
It's not unusual to have fun
with anyone
Her hands were far gone but
solid as a rock
Rollicking flying his rocket
Racing by her own clock Ms. Hornet


His sneaker loud love feud one
the detail on her sneaker
the wild bird of a bud

He shook me all night long
don't do an
A-C-D-C  on me
The sneaker he got the
Crazy eights
 No prank calls
Her hot buns and
Speaker- Frank-flirters
take me out to the
ball game demonized

The Anti Christ be born again
My sneaker group what a tank full
The Antitank no thanks
You cant always get what you want
and if you try sometimes
Charge all plastic but
sneakers like rubber soul

Visa hot runner Lisa no control
The American Express abdominal press
Shop until she drop's gum-drops
Your head was like a
Rolling Stone Jagger
Bigfoot sneaker Friday 13 size
That girl sweet pea Lea surprise
In the Hell, kitchen she snapped
That purr nightcap like Cleopatra

He's the Mantra so passionate fruit loopier
She's the Mona Lisa unfriendly sneaker
Your happy socks are quick
On his bell-hop feet
The sneaker riddle beat


That long meeting so *******
For time baby blue eyes Frank
on the mic
Like the jitterbug tight-knit
as sneaker print rug
Citron sharp eyes 5 Karat
Spicy hot Chili pepper
poem sonnet

The singer swung
Jazzy sneaker band
Dr. Who wears sneakers drinking
Dr. Pepper

The "Red Apple McIntosh" computer
Such a loud mouth hacker Josh
Jeweled Judy cultured pearls sneaker smash

Or her Stairmaster her
sneaker hotties ruffles have ridges
The juicy burgers dill pickles

Desperately sneaking Susan
sneakers to her affair finish line 
What a Lady Madonna
baby sneakers
at her breast rebel of hearts
I wonder how she manages to
sneaker speed the rest

Her best to out twin any talk
bullseye power walk
Buying the triplex sneaker
The loud talker 4 for 4 fame Wendy
Run like a fugitive your alias
name
Go International quite run
for your money I suppose
His sneakers up on her recliner
It wasn't her better rose
She's the high boot lady ever finer

On E-Bay selling your favorite sneakers
Those Australian Huskies biting sneakers
Such a Paws up against doggone heartbreaker

The in-crowd Flynn or another runner Lynn
Everybody is not a star or wedding crasher
Or even the right sneaker lover

Lady that lives in her homeless shoes
Are we all inside a video game
all commercials

Needing bifocals video begins
 Wynn at Sneaker Con
Joy to the world of the joystick
The sneaker of the Torah prayers of
the Temple
All dots and specs out of sneakers
More zits and pimples
I just want one-half cream
The changing Moon 1/2 Wolf
My man (Mr. Drakar) Howling toenail

French onion soup say cheese
her sneaker what a
no-brainer lightheaded breeze
You come so far sneaker trainer
And a grave site plot famous
brand sneaker
name

A million odds to one name in the
cemetery
****** Mary she flies in her
sneaker like Mary Poppins
Going under the influence
Heres looking at you kid umbrella

Hot Hollywood Taurus Bulldog
runner
We really don't have a name

We are writers and ****
good fighters single to mingle sneaker
Not the homewrecker more like the homemakers
Even sneaker has a voice and walks like singers
Shoeiverse sneaker race
became her living curse
The grin of the Grinch green sneakers
On his sled ride the lucky shamrock

I'm the happy heel
The tigress furry feel skip to my Lou
he ordered the
kids happy meal

Getting a ticket for reckless walking
Lights on or eyes wide shut
Are sneakers running for their life?

More fuel- time we get no alone time
Let's go shopping for the
new sneaker called
(Valentine only) sold one
day the sale
Singing her sneaker song a chip
device to talk back hot male
The 'Calvin Klein" dockers her ball of the foot
tennis sneakers It's her loud Owl ******-hoot

The farm girl Ralph Lauren corral
To rope her in lasso-like with morals
racing horse of different color fashion
I cannot hear you I have a hell
of a tinnitus reaction

  She-Devil bickering.>>> No heart like a sneaker
I am a snake too short to run the mile

I was too busy looking
at her long legs
On the Jet
** Plane
The most popular lady
in her sneakers 

Viper car and strings attachments
Ms. Love lace the shoelaces
with hearts
She is tied to his ankles
like condiments
Like Sweet cherries what a
bomb kicker sneaker
The Southern Belle runner
Be the stunner the trucker roadrunner

Hail to Mary the sneaker
Queen of Sheba
Turn on the radio Country singer Reba
What a sneaker rating ratio

When she bent down the crisscross
Watch out cross my heart trainer

Cross my heart and hope to die
To get slimmer
I am the happy sneaker
all the moods hot goods
(Hey Robin Hood)
stealing a rich man and poor women
which is the witch

One string said pull me the
other one said you feel like a
Chrome lead sleepy feet go to bed

Like Beer and pretzels
What an insane sneaker hazard
Hospital beepers sneaker virus
stepped on the most expensive
Venus, I beg you to run
lips we travel bullets and stars
We just want some fun

Marathon key just one clicker
That strawberry shortcake
Versus the "Cherry Bomb"
The Prince and the Pauper
what a toad kisser
That army tanker hurry up
lunch or brunch
What a Patriot Brady bunch

My shoelaces became like a
firecracker candy bar crunch

Who is the loser lover
or the winner
The long trip almost at the end
of the race
What a rivalry those shot glasses
at random
The sneaker fandom

Smile to me if you're not
wearing anything
but sneakers
My wings the wifi cute feet just
say Hi

No, I saw a man 600 pounds
of Reebok gold way too
much belly roll fat
The Dr. Seuss cat in the hat

Nike in the air Robin
bird skydivers
Dark matter gold diggers
Movie (It) Stephen King
skateboard

Penny feet relaxer
The Wise clown got her
The sneakers comedians
Seinfeld stand up sneaker
To be dead or wed Kleinfeld
Exotic sneakers and
cars he made a home run
Hot hell ring my bell
You made me happy
I got to first base

And you all sync into
one of a kind sneaker
Mom Robin the singer
No, I saw a man-eating
out of his sneaker
His head up in the Nike air
Oh! all hell breaks footloose
computer looking
up the sneaker sales

All I am doing is clicking
with a mouse
Where is my lover
sneaker twin, my spouse
This is about a trip not on an airplane flight more down to earth long walk star gazers or runners and clickers but its a comedy around all names and hot runner shes the firecracker don't  eat her at her game
Tim Knight Oct 2012
Walk by numbers in
the Parisian palette ,
spreading the paint around
in a long line of lip red scarlet.
Pipette sized width following you
as you tread on stone, you’re new.
Sit with the trains and listen
to walls and notice small change,
loose change on the floors.
Passenger’s stare moves you from
carriage to carriage, regardless of UK, American baggage.
Surface again, the longest breath you’ve ever held
has escaped again into winter’s cold.
Steps climb and feet follow,
Anubis with a rifle watching over-
graffiti crowd control for the younger;
sad face, a smile face, Sacre Coeur white face.
Sink down along the track,
railway men hanging large and fat.
Tea for two with warm milk,
tea for two without the milk,
no tea- up and leave, tip with guilt.

**** kicker Paris scruffs her shoes
amongst the paint, the blues, the museum’s closed.
Again, we have to wait for the universe to align before we get to see her smile.
Wait, keep waiting, Mars is coming, revolving towards us.
Doors unlock and we enter a tide of tourist
and artist and the modernist futurist- lost in this department.
She sits there still, not smiling

Paris, without you no coffee would ever be deemed good.
Without you, I’d be lost and artless and heartless and broke.
Even when you take the covers from under me-
I’m still warm.
Sa Sa Ra Nov 2012
I just knew I had to get there
try to begin again again yay
it was not conveniently along
the way to any ordinary business
else i had along to get on this day
but when i finally arrived i forgot
if it were the coffee or the chocolate
shop...20 oz got the mud and like me
just a single dark chocolate coconut turtle love
no trip to sip upon my way to self serve raw milk cows
and so return to head of the class or is it the line free pass
and refill...so coffee shop and coffee house does play; 'your troubles
are my troubles every dear sweet day'; sip sip 'how are you today', 'I don't believe' she said;
'but i have nothing else better to do myself' I'd say...we're acute of mars and where we are across
enchantments and beyond the covering of the bridge and bridges...wifi sure if you like so very need; 'email leave it here' she's owner 'there's the pad' 'but what?' oh silly me 'do I get' fearing junk and praying for the hand signed invite to the 'Caffeine Ball' in the tiny little town with two chocolate shops just in case you are northern or southward bound, you're 'Cafe Casual' or 'Belgium Tweaked', she the owner tickled me 'you get my email'!!!

...here and there it is the season of the witch; and here today it's black tight city in the pretty country sweet nitty gritty; soccer so too the day and I don't know the preppy privates or the awesome lovey local blessed pirates; moms and girls all a twirl and I'm just trying to empty this lovely cup; this sweater too is dark and fairly long but upon the tights its out of sight but upon any other else it's something else; here is mom silver lovely flows as she too can bounce about as if she's the star ready to run and play kick in the winning goal, saves the day again again again, and the line is steep and the shop full of eye candy take home treats; and too tights sporting is she though jumper; guess they don't got to be so long in seasonal dark bold yet subtly nifty blackish white grey shifty plaids with tinging blue line-ish sky-ish snuck sneakin' in and out and oh the kicker so very dainty being in defiance like of gravity as in light and loosely sweet, and the lucky man for the ring upon the left of hand, but it's all lovely to see the happy be and the treats she seeks to take home to for about that lucky other and at times we are other me's but there this time he is he; and I've got 6 oz to go before my free pass to head of the class upon the tip of the spear nothing to fear before the all waiting for the dearest of sweet service the all so love here; nah no Starbucks come close to dare about anywhere the near blessed be here, we all so are; our bubble ya, or so I am most likely blaspheming here for true I can repeat I am overly needy speaking for myself and so overly shameless about my overly humanness at the risk of judgement and inhumanity; so it is better to know thyself first and foremost;

6 oz and I'm still working hard sip or gulp b/s or bust but then silver soccer plaid treat tweaker; there we are; "I love the plaid" said I, "Oh why well thank you so much" "That's lovely" I am not used to compliments" she seemed so...well I'd love to know, "I saw the ring" I said "and that should be no penalty"

...but I am never prepared for the overly shocking and we lost ourselves beyond our paths crossing and out beyond the door; I imagine we are, she is routin' team and life the more for all; 
once upon a time
 I was overly dedicated to the loosing cause with all endearment and flattery in every way first thing in the morning and like every night tag team between raising angels and in defiance of everything I have ever heard they say about what you just can't get with a man; but then they forget to tell you if it just so happens; there may be better men you can steal from and who cares what if from other women other husbands and their retirement plans; while we're at it I don't worry 'bout that but blessed be I ain't no Mr Right even though overly right for much right right now, though nearest my age I wouldn't then stand a chance to be fooled by sweet angels but who rarely just don't get a **** thing not 'bout me my deep and long term needs and cares, not that any couldn't but I ain't spelling out those tales here now so well;
but hit me it did that goddess blessed soccer mom-ma
not used to compliments ripping me up still
and forever till we get the heck out of
our b/s self created living hell
which repeat repeat
our simple choosing
in the more willing
and overly
responsive
here we are
in the better
place for heaven
ain't that true as well...

I wish I could ask is anything real
but it's all true as well,
if we ever got real out
of here this way

look out we'd might
just miss all the
HELL
'O'!!!
Andrew Rueter Jun 2017
I quivered in the arena
As thousands of people screamed at me
All because I wanted to touch the *****
I guess I play a different football

Those Hartford wailers weren't there
When I was on the ice
Trying to play goalie to the problematic pucks
All I had was my blocker
And all I could do was deflect

Yet those same people
Try to convict me in the tennis court of public opinion
Just because I wanted to make my own racket for a change
Is that really my fault?
Why should I listen to these people
When zero and love have the same meaning?

Am I beholden to those
That wanted me to kneel in the endzone?
They're the people who separated me from myself
Now that I'm running back
They're claiming they were my safety
But there was never a decent referee
Only people that wanted to see me in stripes
But here's the kicker
I'd forgive them all their past interference
If they'd just stop challenging my plays now
Nomad May 2014
There are winners, then there are the ones hoping to win,
I'm not talkin bout a race,
I'm talkin bout our fight on sin.

Sure I'm talking religiously
I feel the need to talk rather
freely.
So let me hit you with a couple of lines,
and see the word "Humanity" and how the people defines
humanity.

Humanity is a collective, a race altogether,
how are we together,
we we hurt one another?
We've got children dying in the streets,
tired, hungry and poor,
they don't even need to be in streets,
but behind closed
doors!

Where's our humanity,
when we need it the most,
or is it just imagination,
a figment of a
ghost?

Humanity is defined as the actions that we do,
like the golden rule, treat me,
how I treat
you.
Well I can treat you all sorts of nasty,
does that mean you have to get me back,
when I turn around, are you on the attack?

Humanity is both, and neither these things,
it's the person here, and alive, with a different song to sing.
Each person, is conscious of thought
and is freely able to defend themselves, with everything they got.

But here's the kicker,
when humanity steps in,
we're all confronted with
our own little sin.

How do we defeat an enemy so plain and clear,
when the only enemy
is ourselves
ourselves that we fear?

We go to seminars,
we read books for inspiration and relief,
trying to mask the pain
replacing pain and sorrow,
with mask of joy for a moment so brief.

We'll hope someone else,
is there to pull our weight,
when we really need to do is first
step right through the gate.

Yes we can, and should rely on others,
but don't expect our new found friends, to treat us better than our mothers.
The burden of this world, is shared upon us all,
but should we relax and not do our solemn duties to each other,
then together we shall fall.

So upward humanity!
Rise and face the coming day!
We've got too many problems,
let us go and not delay!
We can't fight them all,
but one by one we'll make them fall,
give me time, I'll show you reason,
I'll fight every day of every season.

Humanity have faith! In God and His Son!
Have faith in our Savior, and the War is already won!
Humanity, lean! Together shoulder to shoulder we stand!
We don't want world peace,
but some peace is all we demand!

Where the world is struck by war, disease and famine too,
it almost seems like there,
is very little we can do.

But fear not, my dear Humanity,
worry for us no more,
we've got so much fight left in us,
give us time enough to show that devil his way
our the door.

Humanity, don't give up, on us we do ask,
to fight the good fight, to help us complete our task.

I'm bound to humanity, for the simple sake of love,
Because I've been so commanded,
by my God up Above.

Humanity, hold on,
the Calvary is on its way,
so hold your ground Humanity,
I say hold your ground this day.
Sa Sa Ra Dec 2012
Yo _,
Hoping all is well as sugary sweet flowing going more like honey beeing;
you---- and---- too-uly have been so how do we like to say so, romp rompy and we just don't know X'actly as is, as it might appear though let us hope it's not too rhymey or schemey with Pop Pomp Pompey on and in too deeply into those ity bity incy weeny little commentary boxery's!!

If you don't get my follow ups to Heaven Made'r and or Garlic Please they are in draft form which I may poem-alize live copy dat roger over and over or not. I'm going out about it never mind worrying about yourself, but before or later don't worry so much we all here are so under staffed it's one of those scarcity things we need to promote to keep all you potentially dangerous and certainly crazy types safe. We've myopically studied humanity and yes those aliens have been helping too for well let's just say here cause I'm to say not so much about it, but I've already been chipped as spared with a tag of 'IDKy'. My Mom was told as a child it might be curse but I feel now with my spare free pass I'm feeling lucky and so gamble ramble rolly and once I found out it actually rhymed with Holy so who Holy knowly's? Okay my apologies and I'm overly busy you know the staff scarcity thing though we try to usually depersonalize for both the guilty and innocent as well one as you as far as we can tell are innocent yet and charges have been brought against you, but don't get your hopes up quite yet!!!

So if you would like to consult with a lawyer we are fine by this we'd understand but understand this we do not have public funds on that scarcity list for defending such kinds of non-nonsensical indefensible, but of psychiatrist and getting locked up for this we could turn you in or give ya' a long set of lists...

And we try to promote optimism firstly especially moslty up-frontly; but know see here steer clear of what we just might need a little bit more clarity therein thereoutward IDK peeps are saying all kinds of crazy things out there we're trying very hard at keeping you safe from all those other's now. I think they call themselves all kinds of crazy things like 'One Another', then they say 'All's ya' need is Love" but see then they've got all kinds of other deep rooted kinds of mix-ups within for next thing you know ya', we have finally figure this much. They seem so contradictory, we've butchered and tortured the best specimens we could and too some even helped with every bit and like too all kinds of crazy things they call us conformists!! We have not got that one figured out yet but new techies well ya know we stole some of their genetics fore if you just keep them reigned in on just a precise tether we have got a bit done with them. Well they are coming soon can't say when with chips that make silicon again dark ages at last, well then as I was saying the new algorithmics and transprogramizations might be able to be downloaded in. Now yes the stuff we have now and we're building servers and storage what they say of Gods House Many Mansions, well we don't know what crazies think they think they think they believe somehow they actually can do anything at all but we have got this thing that fits what they call Gods House we think on the small tip end of the needle ya, as they say JC, Pop's little one, all these mansions just one son. Anyway said something about us being like trying to get a camel though the eye of that thing. But wowza we got a barn load of that House of God stuff on the small end remember and they pretty safe we's moling around underground and along with a little nuclear waste and all the kinds of formats and types of files well if they were barns on grounds oh what a city!! We think perhaps a metaphorical thing we might be able to some how use it then they say we are abusing it. Well to say this for the new humanity and like that "Jeweled City" coming down for their own good looking over them it will be. We have our special agents everywhere, from a handful of string puppeteer players but don't worry the aliens say most of the genes did what they were supposed to. So we might be getting close to pulling this off. Well, these thing now are like what they say about this thing they call 'God'. It's like it knows no country, race, religious affiliations or associations, secular or non those work we have found about the same way. Currencies, politics they all make pretty good mindful fences and we like that stuff it's all in your head, because there are some still trying figure this stuff too, about some kind of connection from the mind to or from the heart and which way we just don't get the technical details. All we really know is that when this heart matter comes up our systems nearly crash. So as far as we can tell we still pushing hard that EMC squared energy matter to crazy people, crazy enough keeps theirs minds busy with stuff dig!! This oh, how this the beautiful kicker still scares the living 'um we'll just call it crap here. For if this ever goes public you know the scarcity promotional plan and shortness of staff, well it might save us some editing and save energy from servers trying to catch stuff that might upset and make unruly those same people we do all we can for. But you never know we're just not so sure so too we let them selves go on with maybe 'Mother' needs to cleanse herself... we like to leave room for a few contingency things.

Give it a couple of weeks and try not to sweat it too much a bit. But then try to get back with me on this. We have setup a private file here; we respect your privacy but you might want to check the details of fine print on the site here that just keeps a hoing along linking to the indefinite indeed-ly insane rather cool gruelingly cruel more so beyond too colder than natures own ice here which such is ever dear kinder sweeter than the down linking of going to be your bad. However now too understand there are new technologies out there while we are at it if your feeling a bit chilly chilled here now beside all those turn on and off pills and again the bugs are not so clear if they can ever worked out but there are places and they can make it painless, sounds nice right hmmm now ya got me thinking too much again. Susssh's not a word one slip click of mouse here that I don't need meece or even mice just one mouse dig and mine is wired just one little slip click and oh 'ooops your prioritized and if your a unlucky type of fellow we always need a good sporting specimen of public spectacle. Just so you know we don't want 'Gods Children' acting and playing in love, joy, fun or singing not in that counterproductive heartfelt way. The chips are almost ready and for their own good we wouldn't want you to get in the way!!!
This was msg saved as draft for a spell about;
These were responses saved as drafts for a spell,
a bit watered for public consumption about;
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/garlic-please/
about;
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/garlic-really-or/
and just in part really;
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/heaven-mader/
to;
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/heaven-fader-why-not-lata/
Emeka Mokeme Jul 2020
DÓOR KICKER
A door kicker
takes no *******,
he takes bullets
to save and
to protect those
he loves.
In this dangerous land
filled with chaos,
he must become
a nightmare to
the wicked ones.
He must be
careful but
now it's time
to be careful
not to be careful
for the sake of
what he must do.
His instinct as
sharp as a razor
to cut deeper behind
the enemies territory.
His blood he must
shed with gladness.
He bled to
secure the land
for the sake
of our posterity.
Our extinction hurts
and haunt him.
Like a wounded lion
in search of
its absonded prey,
he hunts down
the terrorist and
oppressors messing
with his people.
Putting pride and
ego aside,
he fought without
surrender and no retreat.
Willing to lay down
his life with
absolutely nothing to gain.
His altruistic ways
baffles and perplexed me.
In such a one
my faith grows.
©2020,Emeka Mokeme.
Jupiter moon v Saturn Methane


Today Javk Dyer and Chris Mainwaring are having a fun day at Jupiter Moon oval, to celebrate the after life UFL tournament, and Jack Dyer started the ball rolling with two space kickers, Daniel Morecmbe and Graham Thorne, and Graham Thorne kicked about 2 goals and 17 behinds and he beat Daniel Morecambe who just kicked 1 goal and no behinds and after they was over we went to the handball competition run by Tony Campbell, and we had some great participants like Don Bradman and Tony Grieg, and Zara Baker came in and was the first to get a bulls eye, and she got it twice, and also Peter Sargent handballed two through the bullseye and him and Zara were looking like winning, untill Blske came in and scored a superb bulls eye three times and he won the hand ball competition, there were two more entries, who were Peter Harvey and graham Kennedy, but neither of them got bulls eyes, so Peter Sargent won the prize, the next thing was the tie up footy game, you see if you miss a goal you get a part of your body ******* and if you get a goal, you don't, so the aim is to not get it wrong, because you will find it hard to get free to kick your next attempted goal, so the first was Naomi Innes, and she kicked a behind and Ted Bundy tied her legs together, and then Brett Eggins kicked a great goal, and he yelled put, boys are better, your going down little girlie, and then Zara Baker kicked a goal and she went over to Brett and said, girl's are smarter than you, na, nani, na na, then Scott Macdonald came up and kicked a goal and went up to Zara Baker and said boys rule the afterlife, chicks rule the bed afterwards, and then Marilyn Monroe came over and kicked a behind and the boys tied her legs together and both Naomi and Marilyn were trying to be free the next time, and then River Phoenix had a shot and he scored a behind and he disgraced the boys when Ted Bundy came out and tied his legs together, yes Ted felt good and the final person was Micheal Jackson, and he scored a beautiful goal, and now for the second and last series, and first Naomi with her legs tied together, tried to push her legs up, and because it was tbe afterlife, Naomi pushed her legs and showed us her skills she learnt in death, then Brett Eggins, kicked another goal, and Brett said I am the ruler of this afterlife, no one will beat me, no way no chance no hope and then Zara Baker, who requested to run with the ball with defenders trying to stop her, but that was a trick, because little Zara Baker was too fast as she swung around everyone and scored her second goal, and she said, go Zara, go Zara, I am the greatest in the afterlife, oh yeah I am and then Marilyn Monroe came to magically kick with her feet tied together, and she tried a full somersault over the top of Jupiter moon and scored a great goal and Marilyn said, I am the greatest kicker in the after life, and seeing I don't know much about Aussie rules, I seem alright, dudes, River Phoenis had the next kick and he wasn't too lucky and Ted Bundy tied his hands together as well as gag his mouth, and he is the loser, so he is going to burn in hell or get burnt by the methane, whatever came first, Micheal Jackson came in next to score a great goal,  and Zara, Brett and Micheal Jackson were our winners, congratulations to you 3 dudes, yes this was a great day at Jupiter moon, and everybody had fun.
Simon May 2021
"Being Processed Overload", doesn't come with many benefits, when your already tolerant of one thing, and one single thing...ONLY...!
By any chance, what do you think that one single ONLY thing is...?
Well, it's nothing more than what's come beforehand, or afterwards...
After all, what becomes fully "silence" at the end of the day, is nothing more than what is generally written, or seen, or even displayed (fully), "between the lines".... And it won't make a single slither of sense, unless your willing (to give yourself that one single "affordable" chance), to not be in a state of "Processed Overload", anymore!
Implying, that the most obvious results ("had"), and ("will"), always hide from deep within the states in-between the things that "can be seen", and the parts (of those very "things", that for some strange reason haven't fully yet been discovered), had remained entirely significant in part towards those very things that..."can't be seen"). Hiding, (when you least expect them to do so).
So, the whole point of being processed overload, is the very claim, that you are witnessed to something that can't be entirely seen... Or else, you'd become entirely "Overloaded" with too many processes!
When you’re already dealing with enough as it is... Especially when those very states in-between are hard enough as it is to see ("from within"), to begin with.
It's a full contact sport (when life get's significantly rough for your own eyes to become terribly outwitted by all that processed overload)!
It's when a totally realistic testament for truth (in itself), when being faced with so much, (without enough benefits to help you grab hold onto what's entirely tolerant that comes and goes either beforehand, or even afterwards...) Eventually speaking, it is the very basic lesson of things being entirely...ruled out.
So, it doesn't keep sticking too you, like a VERY BAD THORN IN YOUR SIDE! Forevermore telling what you should and should not do. And lastly, forcing you to see reason, as nothing more then for "control" to be seen as a pure...illusion.
While being so discouraged of (once being able to see from within, "at one moment" beforehand, then entirely fully dropping afterwards, when met with yet another, "specific moment", that most important...)
This most potential realization, (if at all you have caught onto it by now, of simply being so, where you'd learn from it, as who knows...you haven't particularly been doing it to begin with, as of yet...) Then, it's safe to say, that (while you try and try some more, eventually coming around to some type of partially known/partially unknown progress being involved...), doesn't exactly mean there's a type of significant progress in your failures, (for simply being able to understand).
You understand because you think you've made progress with the main issue, which is now clear for...ALL TO SEE!
Then suddenly out of the blue, (and as if it hadn't already been obvious enough...) Things start eventually becoming baseless. Coming to a very abrupt "fixated" halt!
But that doesn't actually mean you have seen (and then most prominently, "recognize") "why you do it!" Which forces you to start believing that everything is truthfully..."unclassified." Enabling everything (you once held dear).
Typical beliefs (within your own once secured belief system), now suddenly become...flawed!
Since the only expectation, was other's approval (apart from your own). And if you’re not able to see what is obviously in the states from in-between, then you’re literally going to see a one-sided viewpoint of everything for the remainder of your life. Controlling you in a pure illusion... From never explicitly being able to see (the other half of that entire viewpoint), with a straight open-mind.
Meaning, lifestyles will remain forever warped!
And your own lifecycle will continue to both shift drastically. Which in tune will remain as the very same dramatic "repeat", forevermore!
For the lack of reason that slowly but surely keeps both flowing inward, and outward... But not in the right type of recognition for your very self to both handle with careful consideration towards that very recognition, or for that very basic of acknowledgements just so you can handle yourself as you make your way through the different "fields full of clutter" (that seem to forevermore block your sights from simply being able to see clearly), with careful consideration...for your own identity to bear!
Because at the end of the day, identity (especially one that is trying to ALWAYS find different ways to sense, then fail here and there...)
Is nothing more than a tired effort...full of such actions...that keeps significantly turning into consequences...full of doubt.
(However, it may never be real doubt happening, when the consequences are just blaming you for your past, AND present faults of a tired effort that can't use their own actions very well anymore, when you’re also not seeing clearly again, anymore, either). Except, when your own presently perfect and overused (always in the limelight) doubt that of course, starts "sugar-coating" the very truthful actions (when you know you obviously already did something wrong), with nothing more than a good old dose of...guilt! Your regular and normal perception of things becomes utterly...twisted! Mangled! Bent out of shape! Stringing you up and wrapping you ever so tightly! Abruptly popping out a random pitiful bow (like on a present) full of both negativity and unprecedented bad luck on top of an entirely disfigured and misshapen present! (Not to mention the very wrapping paper that had become this HUGELY distorted pattern, that influences you in such a wrong sort of way, because again... So, you won't see clearly!) Until there was nothing left but...silence!
Silence at the end of the day, is seeking pleasure (in the moment of doubt, which significantly amplifies guilt), without taking the necessary time to fruitfully take noteworthy details into account...), that you truly have been "duped" this entire time...by your already currently corrupted self...who had been entirely "compromised"...long ago!
(And here's the very sad, and worst part... You didn't even see it happen....) Totally not your fault. It's just lives very bad tempos full of those constant rhythmic beats (that turn entirely into HUGE gimmicks that detests the very pattern...), which doesn't become soiled...when it's (even worse then EVER before), where the very beats have been already weeping alongside your own strides full of hesitant footprints that don't relate to the same old size shoe of the many lookalikes of footprints that followed after the other.... Almost as if everything then started with a beat full of such a rhythm (that came and went, as it naturally would). Then become suddenly confused when it's nothing more than for the sensation/feeling to become abruptly filled...as an everyday common joke. Then...for a pattern literally too weep alongside moving forward ever so gently, (by gently striding with the slightest of common footsteps you could literally muster, where there's no such accumulation where everyday common footsteps could be seen...) But here's the catch (which comes with a GREAT kicker involved...), where you can seriously see it from within, (and not entirely from the outside of yourself). Which entirely distorts this very meaning to begin with.
Even if you had... It had already been too late! When you were truthfully blinded from the very...START!
If only whatever comes (beforehand), or fully starts tolerating the (state that comes beforehand), where the (state of coming afterwards), then of course comes...after, (that which "what is beforehand"), is then helpful enough in being simply portrayed as nothing more...than what you could have already fully expected.
Except, when you anticipate something even more wrong...because your very own expectations (about the very main situation at large/involved), had become unsteadily stranded for dear life. Drifted away, since the very compatibilities didn't match up correctly. (And while being potentially forevermore left adrift without so much as a single change of scenery, (since you'll always stay the same...) Because you simply didn't know how too! Or even worse, being so processed overload, that you have let everything grow around you like this constant "Underbrush"!
An Underbrush seems to always be full of such twists and turns! Overly protruding vines that both poke and ****, according to your very own limitations wasting away the only strength that you held bear for so long... You are just lucky enough...you had lasted this long...! A truest claim among such miracles, that can only tolerate itself long enough...before it truly realizes what's been in front of it's very self (this entire time). And at which time...forces you to again, realize (and then sadly force you to then in its entirety, to acknowledge...), at just how much you've been in the "wrong"...this entire time....
Which in doing so, HEAVILY influences the very reasoning right out from under your own logic, which makes your own reason EXPEL that very logic, and just...throws it directly straight out the window like it's some yesterdays unimportant choice of reasoning! (Even going as far as to then look at it like it's pure...trash!)
(When today, it isn't truly looked at as the very center of one's own ordeal!)
I mean, of course it is...but your now stuck in that very illusion, (where now thinking control is this very illogical, negative, immoral, etc.), piece of obstructed, and nonsensical piece of doo-doo! ...And that isn't right about ANYTHING! Except, for what you have yet to ("properly see").
Guilt then (forevermore) forms into doubt...and the same lifecycle repeats, repeats, repeats...REPEATS! Until it had ****** YOU DRY! Of every type of energy reserve, you had (within yourself), in order to now begin compensating the very same structure of energy again, (in your very self, by simply using back-up energy reserves, or whatever "juice" was left from those previously already still presently being ****** dry/infected energy reserves that had already been literally either fully, or at the very least, nearly ****** DRY in itself!), of everything it held within it's personal possessions from both ends of the same spectrum.
Just so you can then simply "use" in order to clear away the many obstructions that have spread FAR AND WIDE...!!!
But word of both warning, and that of course of...caution.... Is that it's not going to be some easy and sane type of task, where you are able to just miraculously cleanse...EVERYTHING!
Just so you can then become (even more) an inner victim of your own already corrupted self.
"Being Processed Overload", is a state of INTENSE "ramifications"...of being filled with an already unrecognizable consciousness!
Limiting yourself (by chance itself), is a necessary battle for the forthcomings of both an "inner war" to begin seemingly out of NOWHERE! And for the efforts (if there was actually ANY from the very start), to not simply follow thoroughly through from what was already too structurally important from the get-go.
Simply hinting at, if you can truly follow-through with that main logic, (if you haven't already "expelled" anything worthy of your own self, from not EVER AGAIN being actually able to equip yourself and combat the very such obstructed force from within...) Then you might just have that very chance at recognizing what had truly happened to you.
Check - work nine-to-five, eat, sleep, draw again.
Surviving the day, nothing more, c'est bien.

Or call - easy choice for the hand you were dealt.
Just settle for average; win, lose; both unfelt.

If you need to, just quit; to accept it, just fold.
Be resigned to your fate; easy just isn't bold.

If not, you might lose; see pain, heartbreak, and death.
Bracing for blows that will knock out your breath.

So you didn't call a bluff, didn't sees players who cheat?
Or they raised you too much, now you're feeling the heat.

And life may be a *****, she deals hands unfair.
She's the muscle who beats you; detached, doesn't care.

But here's the kicker, dear life's only tell -
There's so much more out there; fight right to the bell!

'Cuz quitting the game after one bad beat?
You'd risk every win, for fear of defeat?

Not even one pair? Means no partner for life?
No falling in love, no taking the dive.

I guess if you're scared, that's a dangerous risk
Probably not worth the bet.

No three of a kind? No partners in crime?
No best friends for life, no slowing down time?

I guess that you're busy, with your job, for your cheque.
Probably not worth the bet.

And no full house? Means no family to kiss...
No building your future, no dogs, and no kids?

I guess it's hard work to lay down those bricks;
Probably not worth the bet.

No royal flush? No laughter, no tears?
No joy and no sorrow, no fun and no fears?

I guess if the bad scares you more than the good,
Probably not worth the bet.

For you, at least, that all may be fact.
You'll hold back your gambles, buy-in if you're backed.

You save up your chips for just the right hand,
And don't see that they are all equally grand.

For life may be cruel, but she gives loans for chips,
So keep playing the game until your luck flips.

So, me? Hit me, life. I'll stick out my chin.  
In this game we're playing?
Hell, I'm all in.
Sa Sa Ra Nov 2012
As your presence was near and truer dearer, my heart pouring the torrential of the ever loving giving,
so I was just allowing this wherefore, by this Ocean can refuse no River; Sheila Chandra's Shore surely, enduring endearingly but essentially perfectly so, so in this poem I had called 'IDK if you read my poems but' and true to the spirit there; Eye God gifting the clear dearest of omissions, I could simply touch in this touching all interactive endeavors with spirits true truer to their beings to with and of the highest intentions, though oft so tough for the steering on these slopes we know, so and steer from than into; I bear trying, for I am zero of why but here there, we are all of what creation be, spoke with and much for our poverty's yes so possessive indeed but again true to spirit and words fairly clear I try to back into or is it as should it better understood said get back into hahaha; when and if something moves and I don't care, no fear more here if it's some temporal spiritual possession; you, me, we were all there our projections made better servants than excuses; hard sometimes finding true love helpful with dear near warm blood bearing beings; no matter what 'dey's sayin' thinking believing and or even feeling sometimes we just know there's just some overly too, close to home thing about our deceptions; so is how, why Solomon could simply just ask and or say demon do what I ask, and do what I say, and much the 'Temple of God' was built such a way; and oh the kicker they were happily at it doing God's love; not mans ***** excuses; and sure I understand 'House of God' a structure still and again, the blasphemous need of the place of Jerusalem yet stolen more charades of crusades hmmm holy wars; well I like to think you know I speak directly with whom I see hear clearly, not what I hear and see not by any book and any mouth speaking those horrors of deception even reading 'Holy Books'; then what I found beyond the stigma of X's for maybe x,y and z reasons, to hard to see through or past or to hard to believe why, they are there truly, or it is perhaps more straighter to say what they mean really; 'nuff said 'bout what I understand truly, don't make much less work, but more truly again, then too all too compelling; no matter falling's, failings; I've been cooked and stewed well enough; how many bodies have paid overly the price for any single one's innocence's worth, whom indeed did, does deserve love care, protection; as all seven billion now still, are we all here again and still now not rightly;
what should would could be it, to love one another truly,
Would be; all judgement on; all judgmentalness off;

Okay,
End of poem beforehand read 'His Trees';
then for your presence being too emoting presences felt with all of creation, too also all presences essences emoting; and truer to my feeling believing seeing and what my heart is about, in effort bringing into creation creative forces already more so, less the issue; and more about X'-ing out or off our X' destructive of one another and as our failings of stewardship here, those X'-factors factoring off; off of hating and on more with X' of loving, without the all we are so still confusing yet, within knowing better still;
For as this too was said much took it into their own deluding; but here, hear again truly;
'I did not come to make peace; but with sword to divide'
But and oh well yes, for once upon a time it was prelude this way;
'for those that have Ears to Hear'
But watch woolla,
see who you are,
how far we have come and what your
Ears Hear Clearly Now;
but what
'He'
Said simply truly was not
'come with a sword to divide you
from me or any other one another;
but, with a 'S-Word' to truly help
steer clear and clear the 'air'
about what we do that is of love
and that is of hate,
that is all simple, you hear well enough I know so much;
but more than that what you will for, work with your willingness this way;
the things only we have made seemingly into impossibilities
can be more easily had in love joy and fun with abundance certainly;
albeit with Emergence more Heaven Earthen Grounded Bonded Breathing Tantra Feng Shui,
kinda maybe, but kinder sweeter more beautifully lovingly all will do be see within without all about Truly;  
but see Love knows not bound in any way or dimension; all there is I say;

So it is willing giving springing sharing seeking witness witnessing need;
can not will not omit a bit any part of thy very self, simply indeed;
so only our willingness or willingness-less, much more than we will or any other deceptive short coming pill;
you see understand like all there is I could go on and never stop as ever never will;
though for the very dear near of your being here today;
with all creations loving help seeking need;
just two words in much the potent place;
I was able to feel find about;
and between within exactly as is
'His Trees' befell 'Her's Is'
And now so better spelled out casting
more clear and less doubt there is;
"His Her's Is Trees";
And so Holier the breeze now, lighter freer yet;
more so potent indeed and in like kind;
~indeed of need~

~~She Breathes!!~~

~And certainly;
Yay for the Trees!!!!~

~~His Her's Indeed~~
~~~Breathes!!!~~~
In Out
With
His
H
E
R
'
S
!
.
.
.

Sa Sa!!!

~~BREATHE~~
Very Special Thanks to DAW,
In this all inclusive of all creation creative heart loving fun production!!! <3 <3 :) :)!!! R

The upper section and ultimately was an inbox discussion much needed!!
DAW, we worked deep in spirit together consciously invoking as much spiritual assistance as need to get through this!!!
Hats off and Heart on to DAW, again!!! Sa Sa Ra!!!

Sheila Chandra - Ever so Lonely

Ever so lonely
Ever so lonely without you
Ever so lonely

Sinking into your eyes
And all I see
Love is an ocean and you for me

Sinking into your eyes
Your eyes
Are all I see
Your love is an ocean

An ocean refuses no river
Ever so lonely
An ocean refuses no river
Waiting for the time
When we can be
Alone together
Alone together eternally

The ocean, the ocean refuses no river
The ocean, your ocean refuses no river
Ever so lonely
Ever so lonely without you
Your ocean
Your ocean refuses no river

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bbcKO92OGNI
mikecccc Sep 2015
*******
knocking down
some one else
just for jollies
possibly to work out
internal frustrations
i'd say karma
or the people
will get you back
for this behavior
but it never stopped you before
why should it now.
Robin Carretti Jun 2018
This is like
The study hall
Easily distracted by rubies
More may be less
tale of  two cities
Dicken's

Please listen
Diamonds are too clear
But rubies we love to
blush
Who cares to be the fairest
Rubies are the
greatest
fortune tellers flush
Like Barbara
Stan evil met Stanwick
Her sparkling candlesticks
Double Indemnity roulette
Those Rebelites statuettes

And how the ruby hooked
on her cultured pearl string
Being pushed over one ruby
My gems got
stretched
like marionettes don't sleep
you will be changed
Into the Gem Bodysnatcher

Just ditch her fake ruby cup
of coffee
Always wanted to be
reassured Ruby Jubilee
Stabbing her jeweled
pen Glamp Tepee

Her ruby could be
locked up and stored
It better be insured

People were naked
without their power
of rubies
She sat so confidently not
to be
outshined
Looking at the
moon-ruby-shrine

Monsterous devious maids
Took her for everything
Screen playact
****** just a tad glad
Redrum
The ruby cluster rash
Ceremony hot flashes
Ruby loves to blush

With Frank Sinatra
Gave Lana Turner a cluster
That was just
the starter Hey Buster

Someone is always
quicker and
****** sicker
Just light her flicker
She was the gem of
the trade
The real boot

the kicker was Jack of
all trades the shinning
But Frankly, they were the
made gem

Something you call
love but
ruby success
You said these boots
are made
for walking
that's just what
they do

One of these days these
rubies will walk
all over  you
Ruby Ms. Gabby
Miss ruby lips Tabby
Loreal and hubby I am
not mail service
Or your ruby police
Ruby slipper to be
escorted by fake Prince
welcome to sanity

Artsy Aristocrats
in the Pick-INNS
All ruby for sucker pins

Her belly went in
The functions
that
produce rubies
anything you want
But reproduce love
Over my ruby heart, you won't

Rubellite head Humpty* Dumpty
The Wall Street
the diamond
the exchange got  overly
populated
Of the Dynasty
transported
her ruby
So far__________


Catching high gems stars
The best-aged ruby
color winery Tuscany
Ruby-Tuesday
Hi ****** in springtime

Ruby fanatics
The Ruby blew out the
candles at one go
Was the grandeur
Ruby grapefruit

God/Goddess/Ruby that is
Nod/ Mistress/Hobby
Flight/Gem/Food/ don't wait to
marry him
She got the
cutest little
babyface diamonds
are way too
clear
Mommy dearest
Anna Karenina
one heartbreak for
this ruby the meanest
The beauty unbound
The rarity like no
other to
be found
This is firehouse of rubies or Ruby of Tuesday any day I might say I hope you love grapefruit and the good kick of a boot there is no Owls to hoot please take a ruby seat this is Robins beat
There we stood falsly charged   of crimes  we had not commited
or at least  thought  no one had seen.

Jack Horner.
acussed of  lewd acts with a horse   well least he had a ride home afterwards
also acussed  ******  insanity   arson   petty theft   double dipping  
car jacking hey if the cars into it i see no harm in it.
truelley  he's a all around good guy.

Chris Smith.
For being a well okay  he's probaly the innocent one

Gary la Budha.
For selling to many books and drinking my last beer
and  for  ******* on thee toilet seat.

John Patrick Robbins AKA  Gonzo
For serving minors inciting a riot  farting in church  spiking the punch and creating a mess at the highschool prom.
200 drunken publics   3000 dui's    public ******   dam sports event's do it every time  ******* chess matches.

Breaking and entering **** i wondred why my house was locked
and some man was sleeping with my wife hell
here i find i have one and she's already cheating on me.
no woder thoose kids look nothing like me.

And for being such a good looking crazy *******  I added that one.


We were some fine upstanding  kinda ****** up guys.
The trial was a joke thr key witness Drew .D  glared at us
I felt violated as i knew mentally she undressed me  with her eye's

The video was the real kicker  ****** I told you Jack that
wasnt  Mr Es  barn we broke into  hippos dont wear  dresses .
Yes mate but there so dam **** he replied.

what do you have to say for yourselfs the man in his black Pajamas asked.
Once was kinda strange i had to get dressed up yet this senile old man thought we  were at a pajama party.

Order in the court yes your honor i'll have a martini.
We were found guilty but even a courts wall cant contain crazy.
  
With a spark of unplanned drunken brillance  like a **** between friends  we sprang into action Jack taking on the  officers  
Chris you take the judge   I'll handle the she devil  Drew.

In a battle fitting for saturday night pro wrestiling we
faught like  wild animals and drunk women chairs flew
ears  were bitten  body parts fonddled  
Drew screamed hey pervert get your hands off my ***.

No time for foreplay now satan  and i sure hope  you smuggled
a gun or salami in here thats just wrong.

Grabbing the curtian and  that hot court lady who insisted on typing through the whole dam trial  like a drunken pirate  who shops at walmart  a called to my brothers were blowing this popstand  slash pajama party.

Through the window we flew crashing through the roof of  a well placed mini van below  we could hear the pixie like screams above As Mr E
screamed goddamit thats my ******* van.

Into the sunset like mighty drunken legends we rode
hey you guys ever been to Atlantic City?
bound for trouble and and a few rest stops inbetween
hey were drinkers   and nobody likes to smell like ***.

Untill next time were the always guilty
Were the G team.
What can i say   except  well
Gonzo everyone
AJ Chilson Jun 2013
Do you want to know the truth?
The truth that hurts?
The truth you don't want to hear?
Here it is!
I am not a Dallas Cowboys fan.
There, I said it.
If you want my opinion on the Dallas Cowboys,
I'll be more than happy to give it to you.
They will not win another Super Bowl,
at least they won't in my lifetime.
In my prediction, they won't win for a hundred years,
long after I am gone, and long after you will be gone.
The days of Aikman, Irvin, and Smith are as long gone
as Tom Landry, and the use of that stupid hat.
Yes, I do know the wild, wicked history of what people call "America's Team",
the very same way an Atheist with a degree in theology knows the Bible.
Ask me which player snorted ******* during the Super Bowl
under the watchful eyes of millions of television viewers,
and I'll tell you that same guy ended up winning the Texas Lottery.
Ask me the name of the kicker that fooled around with a little girl,
ask me what Michael Irvin was doing on his 30th birthday,
ask me this, ask me that, and I will tell you,
and you will know that I will never love the Dallas Cowboys.
No sir, not when they currently have a wide receiver
with a tendency to lay hands on his mother.
Yeah, I know. That was a year ago. But still, he hit on his mother,
and I will never wear that scumbag's jersey
or shake hands with him if I saw him in person.
You may think I have a problem, and yes I do have a problem.
It's the Dallas Cowboys that I have a problem with.
They should never be on a football field
and call themselves America's Team
when they don't even have the best quarterback in football.
That's right. Tony Romo is a no-good prima donna
who will never live up to people's expectations.
Hell, he ain't half as good as Don Meredith,
and did Don Meredith win a Super Bowl?
Did Danny White win a Super Bowl?
Neither will Tony Romo.
Like I said, the Cowboys will never win another Super Bowl.
That's the truth, and if you can't handle the truth, then that's too bad!
Evie Hammond Jul 2015
Are you sorry for things you've done?
For the violent attacks on your little son?
"It'll make you a man" that's what you said
As you kicked him and beat him around the head?
Or do you still think that it's ok
To treat your family that way?
More secrets hidden over years gone by?
Will you truly repent before you die?
Well, forgiveness to you isn't mine to give
After all your crimes do you really want to live
With the consequences of what you've done?
You blame it on trauma from carrying a gun?
But you beat your wife and you beat your kid
There's just no excuse for what you did
You hide behind your public face
Little man, you're a disgrace
You thought that this was buried in the past
But karma's a ***** and she's catching you fast
For the people you pretend to have been your brothers
Here's the kicker pal, some of us are mothers
Here comes the reckoning for what you've done
For the torture you visited upon your son
So don't blame the job for what you did
Newsflash - a warrior doesn't hit kids!
Abusers hide behind all kinds of excuses for their violence but there's really no excuse. Applies equally to men and women. Apologies to anyone this may resonate with a little too much
Love Jan 2014
I don't mind myself too much in the opinions of others.
They can believe whatever they want.
The thing I dont understand,
Is why they insist on caring about mine.
Don't tell me that my beliefs are wrong,
Those are empty words, and you're wasting your breath.
I can believe whatever I want,
And here's the kicker, so can you,
Peacefully.
If I want to believe that the world bounces up and down,
Like a child with ADD,
Then I can,
And its none of your concern.
But just because I may BELIEVE that the world bounces up and down,
Like a spasmist child might,
Rather than spins,
Doesn't mean I'm right.
Think,
You may not be right either.
You believe that being gay is wrong.
I believe that hating people for loving another person is wrong.
You can believe what you want,
Thats perfectly fine,
And I wont say anything.
But once you start saying things about what I believe,
And telling me its wrong and disgusting and that I'm an abomination,
Thats not fine.
And buddy-boy...
Me and you are gonna have some words.
Just because a person believes in something different than you, it doesn't give you the right to hate on them. I'm pretty sure that in every religion, being a good person is a main goal. Hating a person for no legitimate reason is NOT being a good person.
When you're so used to feeling broken,
Feeling whole again probably just feels like a different kind of broken.

When darkness and chaos become home, what used to be home seems to be so far from home that it may as well not exist.

But home is always waiting for you, regardless of where you go or where you've been.

Yes, it will take a lot of effort to get back. But it will be worth it. Just start the journey. You will stray from the path, but that doesn't mean you should give up.

Home can be a house, an idea, a pair of arms wrapped around you, or anything else. Home can take many faces, and, here's the kicker. A lot of times, home never leaves you. You just think it does.

That sense of belonging is there, just buried deep below the surface. Home goes where you go. Home is you, and you are always home.
JC Lucas Feb 2014
Not sure if you’ve ever
heard of
Phineas Gage,
but he was a railroad man somewhere
in Vermont
and one day he accidentally blew a
******* iron rod through his
******* think-box and
here’s the kicker:

He
*******
lived.

Now, this big metal cylinder,
on its flight path,
carved a cavern in Gage’s
cerebrum, more specifically
through his frontal lobe
and when the bleeding finally stopped
and they got his left eye all sewn shut
he told the first person he saw,
probably a loved one crowded around his
filthy hospital bed
to kindly
******* and Die.

He got out of that hospital bed,
eventually,
and when he did, he tried his damndest
to go back to work
but he just couldn’t.

What’s more his friends said he just wasn’t
Gage
any more. His personality
had changed.

He didn’t give a **** about
the sunset anymore.
He liked his coffee black and his pancakes
dry.
Which is strange because beforehand
he didn’t drink any coffee
and he didn’t like pancakes much neither.
He also became quite
the drinker,
which is funny considering he hadn’t had
a drop
of alcohol
in his life
before then.

You see I always thought that
personality
was something you couldn’t
touch.
That it was some grand unifying evidence
of the existence of the human
soul.
But here’s Gage,
who just so happens to take
a pole to the dome
and suddenly he’s just
not
Gage.

So maybe it’s true
that we’re all just
machines
and you can pull a man’s
favorite color
or his taste in music
or his eating habits
out of his head
and set them on a sterile tray
right in front of him.

That makes sense.

But everything in me
still wants to
believe.
James Medley Nov 2010
push push
shove shove
wink wink
nudge nudge

whisper whisper
time time
kicker kicker
spine spine

tell tell
close close
well well
know know

push push
shove shove
wink wink
nudge nudge
this poem is *******.
Autumn Whipple Jan 2015
When I was younger, I saw life
As white houses in neat rows
I loved the chrome, the steel, the metal dreams
The feel of sand and dirt and seams
There was only the meadow, the machine, and me

Now everydays an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines
I’m trying my best to be just like them-
A sad sirens song with red lipstick on
A ******* kicker, with a heroine heart

They say I’m dangerous because I don’t know what I want
They say I f@cked my way to the top.
Well we all mourn atop skyscrapers
As they clamor for judgment day
But I’m not afraid of dying
When the words of prophets are written on the subway walls
And the good crawl down to tenement halls

They sing for fame, liquor, love, scream give it to me
Because I thought I was sitting pretty on the throne of metal steel and chrome
Fools, I say, you do not know
That all I want now is to be left alone

So I sit up at night talking to the moon
Becoming so lost its like I never existed in the first place
Listening to the fabulous clockwork of heart and lungs
Listening to all heart’s dints and machinations
Made of metal and tears and chrome


I was lovely once, marred forever by a pair of (heart shaped glasses)
The foulmouthed flower of bohemia
Moonshine, take me to the stars tonight
While I’m not afraid to live fast and die young
Among the whispering , the champagne and stars

Angry yet, half in love
With death in the cooling twilight
Singing an arsonists lullabye with the workers in songs
For I stumbled into trouble, got my makeup on
A red lipstick sirens sad song
Of metal, steel, and chrome

Its real hard to be free when you are bought and sold
And only money makes you smile
They tell me I did it but we blew it
They say I’m too young to worry ‘bout burning out
So come on, let me bite the bullet now

I’m stuck in the landscape, the loveclub
I'll save you a seat next to me down below
This heights messing with my head
The ground calling to me
Like something out a dream
I’m scared to jump but terrified to stay
And this way I’ll never, feel no pain.

my boy builds coffins, don't ya know
of metal, steel, tears, and chrome
ok, so this is a found poem... all credits listed below. paramour. the animals, Lana del ray, ray Bradbury, Simon and Garfunkel, Lorde, Bruno mars, Bruce Springsteen, the amazing adventures of  kavalier and clay, Anne Waldman, the great Gatsby, easy rider, Thompson, Marilyn Manson, Hozier, Robert delong, cold war kids. Florence and the machine. that's all folks!
Retro Sep 2021
Dear Self,
You aren’t too kind to yourself,
You always feel like a hologram of skin and bones, a wasted soul.
Your mind runs ninety-nine miles per hour, yet you’re seated in place.
You’re locked in place, fighting off that weather of weapons, all on your own.
You smoke those cancer sticks, and BAM!
All your stress seems to flow away, like a rushing river across the land.
You stay up all night, you insomniac, you night owl, you can’t even bring yourself to get up in the mornings to slave away under those fat cats on top of society.
I hope one day, you can find the courage to go back to being a motor mouth.
I hope one day, you’ll go back to being that talented show stopper.
I hope that one day.
You’ll stop being such a dust kicker and get back on your feet.
Just know that every chapter comes to an end, but at least we’ve anticipated this one against all the other endings we have yet to face
Arturo Hernandez May 2013
I wonder if you've noticed.

If you haven't
I would like to share with you
A little something:

I grew up with this idea
That someday I would grow up,
Have a girlfriend and get married.
I knew that I wanted children,
That I wanted a dog,
That we'd grow old in my house
And out in the driveway I'd have a Lambo
(I know, crazy, right?)
What I didn't know
Was how I was going to get there.
I didn't know that it wasn't that easy
And that, more than once,
I'd be hit with disappointment.
Not disappointed because I fell in love
And had my heart broken
(More than just a several amount of times)
But because I stepped out
Further and further from this utopia
I had set out for myself.

I learned, more than once,
That everyone had their own little story,
Everyone had their own little blueprint,
And not everyone was interested
In what I wanted.
I heard:
It's too early for you to think of those things,
Enjoy life and use all your energy on other things.
And I did.
I started drawing, started playing soccer,
I started writing poetry, and put music to my poems.
I started playing the guitar, I started singing,
I started to use my energy on "other things."
But the more I think about it
And the more I read about it
I was really just using those things
For my own story.

And that's the issue you should know about me
That's my so called "problem"
And the reason why you probably won't like me.
I lose sight of what's in front of me,
Chasing after what's ahead of me.
I forget the present and focus on the future,
And I fail to realize that you too
Have had to have
Some getting used to.
I don't know the secret
To a perfect relationship
Nor do I think I, as a person, am close to perfect.
And I know that you're not,
And I know you have your own faults and wants,
Your own needs,
And we're all a little selfish from time to time.

But here's the secret,
Here's the kicker,
The catch to my whole speech here:
I have tried to toss
All of my personal feelings aside,
I have tried to put my plans on hold
And fix myself onto the ground.
I've learned that that's how things often go
And it's not that I'm giving up on my plans
I just know that I want to be a part
Of your plans, and you of mine
Because I know that my plans
Could intertwine into your plans
And yours into mine
(That's what I hope anyway)
And if your plans and mine
All become one
Then I will have changed my blueprint,
And I will know the map.
I won't know the ending,
But I will know,
When I get there,
That I tried -
And for the first time,
In a long time,
I didn't give up.
A Lopez Aug 2015
I don't wear high heel boots for
No reason
I wear them
Just in case
Another man
Tries to b
                 R I
                 N g
       M
        E
D
O
W
N.
.
.
.
.
The plane touched down after a long flight that was true torture the whiskey had long since ran dry the coke had left me
with a headache and the movie was freaking me out
****** you twilight.

Had a seventeen year old girl chose this film that reminded me
I needed to call my wife  to tell her I couldnt pick her up after highschool.

Apon landing I was met by strange  men all named bobby  
im guessing to be a cop here you had to all be related
and named bobby  fine with me.

These men unlike there many named brothers across the pond didnt
have any wepons  dear lord man   wait a minute  take mine  what nice men these bobby clan were.
what was even better was this magic land had the sense to give them all the same name   so when you were drunk you wouldnt forget it.
Why did we not do this   the women  as well.

Apon searching my always ghost town of a wallet  one of the bobby
clan replied hey you know skeeter to?
Jesus  I wont even comment on that.

Apon my exit from the airport i was greated by something that was
a true blessing to any hungover eyes.
No sun  dear lord  I also noticed these people had already been drinking.  
For they were all driving on the wrong  side of the road.
London was rainy  cold   and soon to be Gonzo.

My trip began  like any good writer slash reporter slash honrny ******* drunks would begin  at the liquor store.
the bobby clan had taken my moonshine slash rocket fuel
oh well  least the plane wouldnt be the only thing flying tonight.

The strange little speaking man  who drove the taxi rambled on  as i applyed my social lubricate  better known as *****  how i did miss wild turkey.

You fancey a ***?
Sir your attractive but i dont swing that way.
One thing seemed clear these people were all drunk
it brought a tear to my eye  I had finally found my people.

Wanna see the palace?
Why not although  after i had been to cessars  this place seemed
kinda odd how did they expect it to make any money
with it all locked up?

Allthough the silent man outside with the black furry quetip hat was a draw.
The strange big eared  man i met in the garden after  my  
well little fence hop hell  being the human quetip didnt say anything
I figured he wouldnt mind to much.

Well the big eared man was rather plessant  after i offred him some whiskey  sorry  its a little weak  thoose bobby boys took my good ****.
No worries you crazy *******  wanna ***.
****** man Ive  told you guys  im straight.

After my exit  and brief *** kicking seems thoose quetip people are silent but deadly   my face soon kissed the pavement
as one replied  I belive him to be the one that wasnt special said thats what you get yank for speaking to the prince.

These people were worse than i thought  I was a big fan of purple rain.
dont belive a word that man said  besides he's a racesist.
never trust a man who can jump outta a  airplane and glide to the ground  unless he's dumbo.

One place to always seek refuge when in doubt  was a pub
least these people werent obsessed with if i was gay.
yes like a man in a church filled with like minded crazy people i was home.

Sharing a booth with a strange man creature who called himself Keith something  what a drunk genius he was indeed.
rambling hours on end about **** I seldom understood.
but as long as he was buying i was happy.

Poor guy  seems he was in a band  but with a name like the Rolling Stones how far could they go.
after much more rambling and some bad jokes we were off
me and my struggling guitar playing friend  who dare I say it was on drugs  I had met my true idol.

Always up for a prank we found areselves in he country
loading a bmw full  of horse crap  when a old woman from
the mansion did appear  under the inffluence  anger with pitch fork in hand.

As we fled  as well as staggerd  I asked my drunk pirate friend
you know that old woman looked  Paul  Maccartney That is Paul
Maccartney you ****** my sruggling sorta insane friend replied.

Running through the woods drunk at night is always fun
aside from thoose dam trees.
i was knocked flat as if i had been socked by skeeter
as i came to there the  legend stood overtop me
pitch fork raised wait befor you **** me sir please can i have
one last request.

I should have known Sir Paul  replied  happens all the time who should i make the autograph out to?
***** that amigo i pulled out my bible better known as my flask taking   one last drink of fire water  this was gonna ****.

When all the sudden a banshee's scream echoed in the forrest.
******* mate were done for  sir Pauls fear was clear as the wet spot on the front of his pants.

Tree's rattled what kind of monsters did this country hold?
the howl closer ****** Paul get of my back   im not
your old song writting buddy.

From the sky the bashee did appear  but had little or no intrest in me
The battle was epic the *** stained warrior put up valiant  and tearful fight.

The kicker was when she removerd her leg  like some sort of Brittish  samuri  all i can say is hot.
She swung like Mickey Mantle   or maybe it was mouse im not a big footall fan anyway.

Sir Paul knocked stone cold out  the she demon turned her attention to me.   And you!
She howled her leg wepon raised high in the moonlight
it was i know what your thinking romantic.

I deffended myself as best i knew how by falling to my knees crying pleading for my life  dam you bobby clan were are you now.

But to my suprize she only laughed silly yank  help me go through his pockets  befor the old ******* wakes up.
we searched finding many thing's hey whats this a flash light?
****** i should have known better than to look through a grown man's pockets.  
Had I not learned anything from my uncle.


The moon the she banshe with the removable leg
My drunk struggling muscian friend from a little blues band it was a magic night indeed.

As I sit by the fire  looking at it hanging over the mantle.
I wonder when will i again return to this  strange and Gonzo place.
And how the hell I was gonna explain were that leg came from.

Untill next time kids stay crazy
Gonzo
Always wanted to take a trip across the pond
And never put a thing past me
Forever Gonzo
SE Reimer Dec 2014
~

the stores here are crowded,
and everywhere i see
the signs of the season
selling Christmas to me;
the lights, sights and sounds,
flashing colors abound;
on every channel the music,
their ads and their movies.
on every corner selling trees,
their seasonal drinks
to quell the freeze.
we'd not know it’s Christmas
without them telling us so...
at least that's what it seems.
and even that word,
they've seemed to steal,
taking Christ out of Christmas
so their wares they can sell.
it's enough to lose my place
to choke on my song
the words stuck in my throat
it’s all gone so wrong.

so, their “X” i hoped to replace
and in my haste to remand
i made my demand,
“take the ’X’ off of Xmas,”
i shouted;
“put Christ back, in His place!”
but my kneee-**** reaction
mixed with failure to search then
made me blind to the facts
so instead i besmirched them.

then a truth i discovered,
just yesterday,
and now that i know,
i'm embracing the "X"
as should every good Christian.
for it was the "X"
those Greeks knew best;
it carried the "chi",
putting the ”X” there in Christ;
it went something like this- Χριστός.
and the marauding i’ve fought,
the hijacking i thought,
it was never taken;
it was never gone, at all,
it’s been there all along.
so i’ll admit i’ve been wrong.
for “X” marks the spot,
an intersection of sorts,
where the sacred meets the profane,
a collision of Able and Cain.
and just as Christ born to man
and new life He began,
with my faith now restored,
i can return to my song
and sing of Christmas,
the Christ child,
and Xmas
again!  

~


post script.
with inspiration from the following at Dictionary.com.:


Here’s a holiday surprise that only the dictionary can provide. Do you find the word “Xmas,” as an abbreviation for Christmas, offensive? Many people do.

You won’t find Xmas in church songbooks or even on many greeting cards. Xmas is popularly associated with a trend towards materialism, and sometimes the target of people who decry the emergence of general “holiday” observance instead of particular cultural and religious ritual.

But the history of the word “Xmas” is actually more respectable — and fascinating — than you might suspect. First of all, the abbreviation predates by centuries its use in gaudy advertisements. It was first used in the mid 1500s. X is the Greek letter “chi,” the initial letter in the word Χριστός. And here’s the kicker: Χριστός means “Christ.” X has been an acceptable representation of the word “Christ” for hundreds of years. This device is known as a Christogram. The mas in Xmas is the Old English word for “mass.”  (The thought-provoking etymology of “mass” can be found here.) In the same vein, the dignified terms Xpian and Xtian have been used in place of the word “Christian.”

*As lovers of the alphabet, we are transfixed by the flexibility of “X.” The same letter can represent the sacred and the profane (“rated X”).
Megan Hundley Nov 2011
I feel ridiculous
just this mug
with this purple heart and this
yellow background
and do you know what I did?
[here comes the kicker]
clutched that little thing to my chest and
out from my mouth stumbled the most awful sounds
like they were lost in darkness, feeling the air blindly
confused at their mere existence, prodding jabs of exhales,
littering the space with blurbs of mismatch speech
silly as it sounds
I knew if I let myself
I could fill that purple heart with salt water
don't doubt it a bit
shocked about this incident
well
no, truthfully I'm not
as soon as my eyes locked their gaze
I could feel a stir
this buzz of an awakened monster
monster
and one just can't remain calm
with that
oh well, better luck next time
as in I might find a sword or a hero or
I don't know
courage
to look away and not dwell
idle in the same space, loitering
purposefully unintentional
if you can believe that
* side-note
rolled the word "Respect"
around in my head
for awhile
stretched it like taffy in the window, shot it at
faces as though it were a lecture
mulled over the depth of it
r-e-s-p-e-c-t
rreessppeecctt
came to this conclusion:
is it possible to respect "this"
....."this"
yet at the same time secretly
openly?
show that I wanted to hear you say
"yes, that'd be fine"
but it came out as
"thank you for respecting this"



oh.
ok
Craig Verlin Jan 2014
you feel so in love
until you realize
that everyone *****
and everyone smells
and you can't do it
it's not even the *******
that's the kicker
love is beautiful in
a vacuum
but in real life
it's an ugly terrible thing
filled with missteps and
half truths covered in
jealous accusations
I can't love you
it's so irrational
you're too beautiful
you flirt too much
you talk too much
hell you talk at all
I need the girl in the
glass case
the one tucked away in
the castle tower
where I can keep her safe
and can stay safe
from her
because
how can you love
something with the
power to ruin you
Syddy Raye Nov 2015
Blood is thicker than water
That's what they taught her
But the blood of the covenant is thicker
Her thoughts on life flicker

She couldn't care less what they whisper
It won't change her mind, it won't effect her
But here's the kicker
Thoughts of suicide are always with her

Curiosity killed the cat
She thinks too much of that
But here's a matter of fact
Satisfaction brought her back

Blind as a bat she feels
With a hope she never reveals
But lets not forget
All the things she hides with deep regret

Gild the lily
So, she tells herself to do this truly
But her thoughts they rig
For how can she justify putting lipstick on a pig?

No rest for the wicked
This is not the life she picked
But even with the promise of grace
She knows no peace

She's hidden from view
Even from you
But well behaved women rarely make history
So she'll remain a mystery

One must consider the final result
So, when she leaves it's not your fault
But on brighter thoughts she leans
Because the end justifies the means
Hey, now its finished..
Still.
Is a place inside and
sometimes
I hide there.
James M Vines Sep 2015
The teams were matched up and the game had been hard fought. Both sides were tired and sweat poured off of everyone. Every piece of ground and every point had been earned with sacrifice and pain. There was 18 seconds left in double overtime and the next play would decide the game. From 40 yards out a tired you man took sight of the ball. This was it, this was the kick that would tell them all. If the tie would be broken or would the game end in a draw, no one new what to expect no one could make the call. As the stadium filled with a hushed silence, the lineman hiked the ball. The place kicker set up the kick and the kicker let it fly, but just as ball was let loose spiraling into the air, it came crashing to the ground and was running away from the field. For what had went unnoticed from the sidelines and what everyone had forgot, was a Golden Retriever named Alex, that was the home teams mascot. Doing what he had been taught to do a thousand times before, it was his favorite half time trick, with it the Hunter dogs would always score. So free from his leash, he rushed the field and true to his call, Alex stopped the game as he retrieved the ball. No one will remember the hard work that went into that game, but you can be sure that they will remember Alex's name. For in that one viral moment you can almost bet, that funny dog will forever be seen on the internet.

— The End —