"lamborghini" poems
Young people can you feel the suffering?
roca wear, gucci, apple, facebook, mcdonalds, apple bee's,
honda, lamborghini, harvard, Community College
american express, pnc bank, walmart
Wage Slaves, ceos, owners, lenders, renters, indebtedness
Structural dehumanization, systematic mechanization
Exploited labor feeding blood to your hungering consumerism
Young people you are embracing MISANTHROPY!
Embracing the hate of your own humanity! Why the hypocrisy?
Wealthy children, poor children
Trying for enlightenment through education
Parents garnering wealth through the oppression of their victims
Parents garnering debt through the oppression from economic inequality
Still you invest and promote the only legitimization of your being: CAPITALIST UTILITY
Capitalism engineering unrelenting misanthropy
Vicious economic system discarding humanity
Perfecting the concentration and accumulation of wealth
With the expansion of human alienation and murderous competition
Prostituting your body to labor exploitation and consumerism
Where does your wealth end up?
multinational companies? financial corporations? military arms contractors?
Loyalty lies in their pockets, backstabbing everyday tactics
Killing you through the exploitation of your body
Because they know the birth of another proletariat or bourgeoisie can replace you
Entities, not human, how much have they bought you for so that you cannot see!!!
Beware of these misanthropic missionaries granting your body power and agency
When your body can no longer be plundered for profit you will taste tears and blood
Young people will you deliver your forefathers and fathers
From worshiping capitalist misanthropy?
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
yesterday i saw dolphins
i swam with dolphins
their black knife jackknife dorsal-whatevers
slicing the water, scalpels into flesh,
disappearing, reappearing, disappearing,
reappearing
a herd of silent Lamborghini cracking jokes at my expense
(looks plural to me)
yesterday i saw dolphins
i chatted with an old man
who said they're laughing all the time, diving for *******
"Oh yeah, we get dolphins here,"
he might as well tell me Jesus lives there, too
or some kind of black magic came through
making these creatures appear
his nonchalance is weird
yesterday i swam with dolphins
well, saw, not swam, viewed, not caressed
but
all i want to do is see them
all i want to do is breathe with them
all i want to do is float in the same sea with them
my heart ripped to pieces in appreciation
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 11:29 AM UTC
HOT WHEELS.
I went from broke to buying a Lamborghini,
Price tag not so teeny,
Sleek and black, for my driving academy,
Or should I buy the red Ferrari?
Command a salesman to "comprare"?
Wouldn't he be a happy chappy?
But would it make me happy?
I could be buying loads of stuff,
But when you're old, you've got enough!
To me, consumerism is in vain,
My peaceful simple life in the slow lane.
So, today I did not buy the red Ferrari,
Or indeed the sleek Lamborghini,
There was no Hot Wheels Driving School,
Consumerism as a manipulative tool.
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
Hustle hard remix freestyle by : junior
(Rap)
Yea young junior baby
Work hard, get paid
Put foods on the table
Pay bills for my parents
My daughter need a kandle
***** I can't handle
Imma hustle hard
If you **** stop me
I will **** you up
Snap my fingers and money come to me
******* im the boss
That what I do
I'm so addict to money like honey *****
Imma making raining on this hoes
******* bend over and touch your toes
Get rich or dying trying
******* I told my dad if I didn't make money
Imma die trying
My daughter is my inspiration
Her smile is my motivation
******* are not my level
I see them pedal their bike
I'm on my Lamborghini niggas
I see my ***** kimbo
Watzup ***** how are u doing
50 cent said, hey homie swish your style up but if they hate let the money pile up.
**** all my ******
Yea kisss my ***
I just miss your funny jokes
If you keep talkin **** behind my back
Imma come and choke you ******
******* I'm not playing
I'm gettin money like 50cent
You *** hoes
I'm ************* *****
***** ****** say, yo jr **** this *****
Yea imma do that ****
While my daughter swimming with the fish
I call her mermaid ******
I'm making money money
You ****** ******* *****
*****
************ ****** wat wrong with this haters
I used to chase ***** until my dad told to chase money
***** ain't my time
Bro, it good tho
I'm wearing bing chain until girls call me **** while ****** hate on me
Let them hate but they can't touch me
Let me take you in the past
When I was a kid
I love big things
Big cars, big house, big ***** and big ****
Dad asked me, son what your fave car
I said, Lamborghini
He said, **** son this **** is expensive
I said, dad I got this
To all this ****** shot my bro cause he was tryin to get money to feed his daughter
**** you, I'm here to **** you up
I'm your ****** nightmare
If you try to get money
Imma come to rob you and **** you
Show no love cause love will get you **** that what 50cent say
All day I'm right here
I'm not goin nowhere
Imma hustle hard until I died
God forgives but I don't ******
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
Breathe here, stare there
Gorgeous people everywhere
Mind chases, heart races
Breath-taking men with briefcases
Black suits and coloured ties
Witty minds with pretty eyes
Pulled up socks, polished shoes
Ink pens, all blues
Strong souls, real men
Captive in a cemented den
Pick one or pick seven
All good as heaven
Hard working, on time
Romantic talks with wine
One sings the other cooks
Charming words, ***** looks
Unexpected, unsure
My boss makes me lure
His Lamborghini, his yacht
Finest of the lot
His dimples, his hair
His tantrums I can bear
Surprise gifts from his side
Strong feelings, stronger vibe
Look here, look there
Gorgeous men everywhere
Single girls form a line
Take them all, boss is mine.
-Zainab Attari
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 8:22 AM UTC
I bought a cruiser bike
instead of a mountain bike
I’m a sextagenarian
not a 30-something
so every morning I pedal
to the corner across from the Ritz-Carlton and the Montage
next to the high-rent Pandemonde Café
and count the Ferraris roaring by.
I never had a Ferrari
but I did buy a ’96 Mustang once
and souped it up with a supercharger
which was around the time
my doctor took me off testosterone
because my prostate specific antigen
was way too high
You have an inoperable prostate malignancy, he said
after the biopsy
You can’t take hormone replacement anymore
It will **** you
And as I lean on my bike
depressed about missing the rush
of another boost of synthetic male hormone
I enjoy watching the Europen speedsters streak by
so proud of themselves
in cars that cost more
than my house.
I used to wish I was them
used to feel like them
when I was younger and charging hard
but now I just utter prayers
for each Lamborghini that goes by
and I say
I hope your car is faster than cancer.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 6:45 AM UTC
Money melting in a spoon,
let's shoot it into our veins.
Flashing Kardashian lights,
streaming into our brains.
Donald Trump! He's our man!
Mark Muslims is the plan!
All-you-can-eat-
Pile. It. The. **** High.
When you walk or
When you talk,
let the words squeak out
like they're between
Your thighs.
Thighs. American thighs,
Dreaming next to our Calvins.
Our slacktivism, our regurgitated ideas
spitballing out of our McDonald's mouths
into our peers' ears, distilled by years
And years of "almost-knowledge"
that we quasi-ascertained,
if we knew what that meant --
but we've been left behind!
No child left the **** behind!
We were left behind and there's no
possible way we slacked off, that we're dumb,
that we aren't the movie stars destined for
Lamborghini cars, five-star bars, designer bodies
for designer you and designer me:
the most special of the unique, the
Pearls that have been made in the
darkest parts of the sea, the darkest parts of
origin. Origin. ****** ****
American **** virginal ideals sliding around
the muck of a marketable **** fuckfest,
******* of the American mind, the
congratulations of the American ego,
the proud mother and father tears associated with
buying and lying, "trying" and frying our food,
our ideas, our friends, our neo-impressionistic
children in Jordans, skinny jeans, on tumblr:
the unknowing cousin of Fox News, surprised
by its own wit and wisdom: they're ******* twins.
Carbon copies, unknowing, unwilling, un-un-un.
The romanticism of mental illness.
The close-up of reality-tv emotion.
The manipulation taught to servers
from managers.
The manipulation taught to customers
from society.
All we care about is **** image, and ***
Self-preservation: **** Donald Trump
and **** you.
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC
My eyes they start to close
as my mind does drift away
I slip from conscious thoughts
to a dreamworld without delay.
I dream of slaying dragons
and of basking in the sun
oh this dreamworld that I go to
is filled with wondrous, merry fun.
I am the king of dreamworld
I can do whatever I please.
I can drive a lamborghini
or I can sail the seven seas.
I can speak another language
and throw touchdowns for the Saints.
Oh dreamworld, oh dreamworld
you are so much more than great.
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 7:05 AM UTC
Higher;
higher still
touching the sky,
on towers of finite currency.
How long does it last,
what is it worth
to be a member
of the bourgeoisie.
Head above water,
just getting by
ascribed or achieved wealth,
still living a lie.
Wealth above others
a sacrificial chamber
not what it's portrayed to be
but filled with lust,
loss and danger.
Faces of dignitary,
Laugh as they're spent.
While you invest in the world
and compare what you rent.
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 3:40 AM UTC
Yeah, I'm that ***** yeah, don't forget it, yeah.
Gold neck Tity, yeah, Lamborghini, yeah.
Bad ***** with me, yeah, she's sidity, yeah.
Got her hair fixed, yeah, kinda thick, yeah.
Shawty known to strip, yeah, for the ren, yeah.
Tryna do a split, yeah, oh **** yeah.
Can you do a split, yeah, on a **** yeah.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
The lamborghini langoustine
moves so fast it can't be seen
now you see it
now you don't
will you catch it
no you won't.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 2:39 AM UTC
She fell from the skies
Couldn't keep floating on the lies
Pretending to be
What everyone wanted to see
An angel with papier-mâché wings
She was a Lamborghini riddled with dings
But to all she was a hottie
Driving around in a stolen Bugatti
Saying all the right things in your ear
If she couldn't have her way shed a tear
All those around her wanted
To give her all she desired undaunted
None the wiser
The next burst from this geyser
Could obliterate them all
It seemed she would never fall
From the clouds she rode
Even as her halo no longer glowed
Because all were blind
None the secret could find
But all this caught up to her
Only so much could be hidden
Behind the sheer gossamer
Of their eyes a veil eaten away by lichen
Truth be told she was still a breath taker
But the joy ride was over for this faker...
© okpoet
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 2:04 AM UTC
I don't want to sound pretentious,
I don't want to be a bore.
But my car is a Lamborghini
And yours is just a Ford
My home is my castle,
Seven bedrooms to explore.
I have a maid in the scullery,
And marble on the floor.
I dress in top designer chic,
My jewellery's in the vault,
I have a gun beneath my pillow,
It's really not my fault.
There's floodlights in the garden
And security alarm fired up,
I see a psychologist weekly
To ensure my brains not stuck
I want to build a pyramid,
So when my time has come,
I can take the whole lot with me
So I won't be worrisome!
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
Sin glows
With sparkling richness
Of all luminaries
of blanketing galaxy
Sin is worshiped and enshrined
Righteousness is
but blase fallacy
With all over-flowing
Affluence
of new pentecostal churches
and their greedy pastors
And easy-come riches
of Chiadzwa diamond fields
with her flippant Gwejas and Gwejerinas
Life is but black
like Soddom's ****
I hear the knell of dawning doom
As Angels of doom boom...
I swear by ****** Mary's blessed ****
I saw a Stephen preaching down Rekai Tangwena Ave
And was run down by a speeding motor car
"O poor chap, was a good fellow," muttered God
I saw drunken Thomas roaming the streets
Of cogitation convincing himself
it was true news
That brother Jesus, pot-bellied in Armani suit
Was back riding a top of the range Lamborghini
And God shrugged his shoulders,kept quiet
Afraid it may be fatally true
I saw God wet his pants
When listening to Elliot The Idiot's "Songs of Sobs"
That applaud Simon and Peter fishing
From people's pockets
Songs that revere and adorn the vigilant
Pillar of Salt
Scorn and mock
the meekness and softness of heart
At Golgotha...
Sin is vermin spreading
In this our home,the infierno grande
-dougwa-
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 8:10 AM UTC
Jack and Jill,
Went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water,
Nobody knows what they did up there,
They came back with a baby daughter.
They named the daughter Mary.
Mary had chubby cheeks,
Dimple chin,no teeth within,
Rosy lips,
Curly hair, very fair,
Eyes were blue,lovely too.
One day Mary went to play on the slide,
Georgie Porgi pudding and a pie,
Kissed Mary and made her cry,
When Jack and Jill came out to see Mary play,
Georgie Porgi ran away.
Mary had a friend called Johny,
He was handsome and Bonny,
Mary Mary,
Yes papa,
Loving Johnny,
No papa,
Open your heart,
Ha! Ha! Ha!.
But, Johnny said,
"Lavenders blue,Mary, Mary,
Lavenders green,
When I am King Mary, Mary,
You shall be queen."
Papa Jack and mama Jill asked,
Mary ,Mary quite contrary,
We have a querry,
How does your heart grow,
With wedding bells and many heart throbs,
Not now, Mary sobs.
One day, Johnny proposed,
Mary, Mary,
I'm crazy,
All for the love of you.
It won't be a stylish wedding,
I can't afford a Lamborghini,
But, if a stylish scooter for two,
Will do.
Soon, Mary had a little boy, a little boy,
It's skin was white as snow
It followed her to work one day,
He made her friends laugh and say, laugh and say,
"Mary, what a bonny lass you have.
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 12:12 PM UTC
you know what undermines most urban coolios?
you know what undermines the majority of urban hippies?
imitations - clones - we might wear the same sneakers
but at least we think different - we think different, aye-right?
we do, don't we? we don't?! ah ****
but that's what undermines the urban crew - (ha ha, i love
the impromptu slang) - they work their ***** off
and tease their ***** off with twerks -
and then they package hamburgers
with a squeeeeeeezes of the ol' Nutcracker -
but in London so many harvesters -
so many - coolio did fabric off of
Bacon?! **** straight he did -
bring back 1990's bling boo ya ah
ICE CUBE FACE 'N' A PUFFER FISH (MINUS THE LIP) -
like ghetto 1994 - yo yo - ice ice baby -
white man on the Michael - leisure,
leisure, leisure leisure - lacerations and a Las Vegas
weekend - bro got smoked -
and mm hmm - fixed up my pauper rich-man
Porsche - called a dachshund Lamborghini gallop
buckling a dentist's appointment; fuck's sake
buck tooth, drop a gear!
n'ah n'ah n'ah n'ah (lost count) - hmm stirrup song
evened vogue - puck'ah poo or as i shoo
the airs under the carpet with an audience of one.
but believe me, countryside boy says it -
the cool individuals meeting a clone or a mirror
outside their thought experiment and
panic sets in... just another countryside boy
in an urban environment fiddling with a violin
like he might be shining a pair of black leather shoes.
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 10:41 PM UTC
I meet the love of my life everyday. She's that girl I met at the shops; at the bar ordering a cocktail for three; on the street giving change to a homeless man. Last week I met her filling up that Diahatsu. It might as well have been a Lamborghini or a rocketship. None of it made sense but her.
She's nothing special wrapped inside everything I've ever dreamed of. She's the vision I catch a glimpse of when I imagine what it's like to be happy. The endless collapsing of short lived memories. Voids filling with the putty of a tender fantasy. If I could grab you and share my reality. If I could explain my mind in words that made me sound sane. If only that worked.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 6:02 PM UTC
my motor
isn't running too good
these days
there is something
not quite right
with my spark plugs
they don't seem to fire
as they once did
there is a definite sluggishness
in the motor head
reaching top gear
is a thing of the past
vroom vroom vroom
vroom vroom vroom
where has my engine power
gone to
vroom vroom vroom
vroom vroom vroom
how I'd like to
have a new motor installed
a Lamborghini
engine
would give me
some velocity and vim
but I'm saddled
with an old 4 cylinder Hillman
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 7:32 PM UTC
*She cannot see what I see,
I cannot show her what I see.
I show her the trees and the mountain sides,
She shows me a Lamborghini passing by...
I show her the sun set on the horizon,
She shows me a luxury cruise on the ocean.
I tell her how good it feels to have a coffee on the roadside bench with friends.
She tells me, how great it would be to have a chat over tea with the President!
I show her the openness of the vast sky,
She shows me the confinements of a villa by our side.
Then she says,
"You cannot see what I see".*
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 5:01 AM UTC
"Nice Car"
said a man in a Lexus
to a man in a Ford
with just enough sneer
to show that he scored
Then he turned and
heard himself mumble
"Nice Car"
to someone who just
made him feel humble
"Well, it's transportation,
my helo's in the shop"
said a man in a
Lamborghini who
thought he was tops
But then a Gulfstream
roared overhead and
while two grown men
looked up and drooled
the man in the Ford
Drove off and left them
to be schooled
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 1:33 AM UTC
They say I’m losing touch on what’s important:
School, study, a job.
So I can pay back dad and mom.
They say I’m not realistic enough,
because the world is tough
and if I don’t do it right, I’m a stuff-up.
Who needs dreams when you have a Lamborghini, right?
All the money in the world, for sleepless nights.
The picture perfect spouse, for a thousand fights.
Fancy clothes and a house, for an internal plight.
Working yourself to death until your cheeks go white.
Losing focus on your dreams until you go blind.
Letting society consume you until you lose your life.
Your life is a nightmare, but you’re not dreaming.
A heart designed to carry joy, instead is seething.
You can’t hear anything except your screaming.
You check your heart but it’s not beating.
You’re not living; you’re only breathing.
Stop.
I’m not chasing paychecks:
I’m chasing foreign sunsets.
I long for antiques and books and eccentric notions.
I desire creative people with intense emotions.
I want colour; I want paint.
I want dancing in the rain.
I want to feel foreign waters’ cool touch.
I want to visit places with nothing and yet, much.
Take me to places I’ve never seen.
Cue the saxophone in New Orleans.
You may see the world in black, white and grey.
I see it in a colourful array.
They think I’m crazy because of the things I dream.
They think life is harder than it seems.
The can’t understand me.
But they’ll die in the dark,
regretting what they should have done.
While I’ll drown in a sea of flowers,
under the kaleidoscopic sun.
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 3:20 PM UTC
I once had a friend whose great-grandfather was a partner of J.P. Morgan. My friend had grown up in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. He was a good man, and you wouldn't have known he was heir to a vast fortune, except for his anamnestic autos. In fact, he eschewed the affected life. He was an organic farmer outside of Lawrence, Kansas. I mean he really was a farmer. He was up at 6 and drove a tractor til sunset. He and I would get together from time to time eating tapioca pudding at Denny's and, of course, chatting. The one idiosyncrasy that gave away his untold wealth was anamnestic autos. To the side of his modest farm house was a field within which were old antique cars spread out as if they were cattle, but they were not. There was an Alpha Romeo, a Horsch, a Lamborghini, a Maserati, and a Ferrari. My friend would get an impulse to buy a certain antique car, and because he had the money, he'd buy it. But then after enjoying it for a time, he literally put it out to pasture. The scene reminded me of a painting by Salvador Dali. He never talked about his fortune, but he often ordered a second tapioca pudding.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Sep 10, 2020
Sep 10, 2020 at 6:16 PM UTC