"lodi" poems
Siya si Bogs
Minsan ay malibogs
Kahit buhok nya kulot na
Siguradong mapapahuling kayo sa kanya
Dahil si Bogs ay napakagwapo
Medyo kulot pero hindi *****
Palaging nakasumbrero
Para hindi halatang gwapo
Pagdating sa mga kalokohan
Siya ay isang hokage ng petmaluhan
Kanyang mga ini-isip ay iyong matatawanan
Dahil ito'y punong-puno ng kababalaghan
Mapapawerpa ka sa kanyang mga hugot lines
Dahil siya ay admin ng UKQ hugot lines
Mga hugot na may laman
Puso mo'y mabubusog at yayaman
Loding-lodi siya ng kanyang mga kagrupo
Dahil sa pagkamasunurin at mapagmahal na tao
Siya ay isang kaibigan
Kaibigan na maasahan
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 6:16 AM UTC
It was a magical summer.
Lodi blared as fireflies glowed,
leaves fluttered in the pure winds
of those cool Georgian nights.
We scared them foxes
something good.
You were classic in
your favorite auto.
They peed in their pants
seeing a werewolf and me
driving around the park
in a beat-up Chevy Impala.
You’re gone now,
alcohol took you away.
I still have the mask
somewhere in a box.
I sure miss you,
those good times
and Fogarty.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
Mandolin harmonies
trailed up Bear Hair Gap,
echoed between
the chestnuts, hickories
& sweet blackberries.
Lodi & a bad moon rising
stifled the cool air,
wood spirits whispered
secret incantations
to the fairies & sprites
flying amongst the fireflies.
This is the sacred
Coosa place,
where bricks have names,
where the wolf man
drove his Impala
spooking summer campers
& where old blackie
got trapped.
Two are gone now,
one succumbed to the bottle,
the other still stalking hikers
near the Raven Cliffs
o'er near Helen.
The bricks will remain forever
'neath the phases of the moon
beside the maiden Trahlyta,
up from Blood Mountain.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 3:22 AM UTC
It's cool to just sit
Here and deal with this ****
But hey, its better
Where the pudding is thick,
Or so they tell me,
Along with
'Don't fall for tricks,'
They'll always get you
If your mind is weak,
Like the obliques
In my side
That've been hurting for weeks,
They're so sore from
The combination
Of boredom
And the conflagration
Of all the
Tinder inside my body
That hinders my
Lodi-Dodi
Outlook
On benders
That have become
Normality,
Like you've become
A malady,
A mother-may-I
Comedy
That keeps me laughing,
Keeps me guessing,
Keeps me passing
Up on
Rafting
Down that river,
But didn't you know
That ocean never comes?
So I'll keep drifting
And counting my ones,
And try to blame
The ones on the run
Instead of the ****
Doing the chasing
And erasing my luck,
While I deface my face
And wait
For this bronco
To buck
Me off
Into the muck
Of eternal loss.
It already happened?
You got it, boss.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 12:43 AM UTC
***** Jersey
You are unworthy
From the infamous Jersey shore
To the depths of Bergen county
You hound me
Thank god sandy got rid of that cesspool by the way
Anyone ever hear of Lodi?
No?, ok... Moving on,
New Jersey, the ideal place for parents who have small children
Once they are teenagers
They will rip their parents apart for condemning them to a suburban hellhole
For sentencing them to an infernal purgatory, where if you have no car, you are stuck at home, and unless you walk to a bus stop and take the bus somewhere else, you have no job
So you find your best friend...
Marijuana
And then you start selling it and you now have a job
Drug dealer.
Find a pill counter who works at Walgreens pharmacy and you have now
expanded your market
Oh ***** Jerz, for grey-ish skies
For sewage waves of stain,
for unemployed and worker slaves,
all for minimum wage.
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 10:15 AM UTC
Cent mille hommes, criblés d'obus et de mitraille,
Cent mille hommes, couchés sur un champ de bataille,
Tombés pour leur pays par leur mort agrandi,
Comme on tombe à Fleurus, comme on tombe à Lodi,
Cent mille ardents soldats, héros et non victimes,
Morts dans un tourbillon d'événements sublimes,
D'où prend son vol la fière et blanche liberté,
Sont un malheur moins grand pour la société,
Sont pour l'humanité, qui sur le vrai se fonde,
Une calamité moins haute et moins profonde,
Un coup moins lamentable et moins infortuné
Qu'un innocent, - Un seul innocent condamné, -
Dont le sang, ruisselant sous un infâme glaive,
Fume entre les pavés de la place de Grève,
Qu'un juste assassiné dans la forêt des lois,
Et dont l'âme a le droit d'aller dire à Dieu : Vois !
Le 24 mars 1870.
1.4k
As a Christian they say you should never fear death if you know where you're going.
I truly believe that I have a place in Heaven, yet I'm still afraid to die.
If you will be patient with me I'll explain to you why.
See when I was 6 dad, you went to work...
the next time I saw you was at this address 6...4...0 North California St.
You never came home!!!
Aunty you went away for a few months, i knew you were sick but I figured you would be up on your feet in no time...
But in April of 2000 I met you at that same **** address as my dad 6...4...0 North California St.
You never came home!!!
Grandma you moved in with us and that was an experience i'll forever treasure.
I was with you everyday for a couple of years, you became like my second mom.
One day the ambulance picked you up and took you to Lodi memorial hospital...
That was were you stayed until the night you were transferred to that building on a corner,
the building that was becoming my second home 6...4...0 North California St.
You Never came home!!!
And brother the Doctor the said you were better, as a matter of fact we were told you would be released
within 2 days, but you died, you died the day after the good news...
You never came home!!!
It seems like as soon as I get comfortable, as soon as I get close to someone they are taken away...
**** YOU 640 NORTH CALIFORNIA!!!
You are getting close to everyone that I have ever truly loved!!!
Daddy you taught me how to love and except everyone for who they were
Aunty showed true love and taught me how to care for people even the ones who didn't deserve it.
Grandma you, you taught me how to relax... to just be calm and pray about things.
Brother you introduced me to a love for music and theater, you weren't only my brother...
but my source of happiness
although I didn't always admit it.
Every time one left, I connected with the next
Than when they didn't come home I connected with someone else...
Eventually no one came back home!!!!!
Now in my phone contacts I have a number saved, the number that connects to that now familiar address
6...4...0 North California St.
I have this contact in case one day you cant come home, Mom.
We've always been close...
One day I'll have to say you didn't come home, A scary thought that crosses my mind more times a day that I
can handle...
Dear son,
One day, I'm sorry to tell you this but you'll be the one to say...
You never came home!!!
That hurts my heart to know that you'll hurt as bad as I have
This is why I'm scared to die,
I'm not scared because I'm not sure whether my soul will sink or fly
I'm afraid that one day my not coming home will be the reason that you cry
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 10:16 PM UTC
Yes, it sure does look that way
When it takes 35 years
to capture 50 criminals
in a land
that claims to be FREE
FREE?
Free of what?
Not criminals
There are 50 crime
families on Garibaldi
Avenue in Lodi, New Jersey alone
Please officer
Oh, that's right
One of those crime families
is not like the other
One of those crime families
Rules the cops
and pretends to rule
everyone else
With bullying
And tormenting
And torturing
And acts in violation
of the Geneva Convention
Oh, but we are not at war with crime
Hey it's a free country
You want to practice crime
People have a right to be
Criminal
It's a free country
Okay
But, why can't it be
A crime family free
Country
Is ****** arson, strong arm assaults, blackmail, grand theft, etc... so glamorous
that a (free?) country
needs them
or even needs to
glorify them in
Movies and Television
Do we need
criminally run Hospitals
criminally controlled courthouses
criminally managed police departments?
I've spoken with
several government
Leaders on this matter
and they all agree
that they will promise
to look into this
as soon as they
can figure out
the economy
I walked down Garibaldi
Ave in Lodi the other
day
The crime families there
are doing quite well
But
They ain't talkin'
Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 10:11 AM UTC
A muses
The man. lady doll
Na **** Lodi da
Na man. Not on
Na man. Not on
Assume h. e mus task
The muse. Her
Position. Project
Of noise. Sound
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 2:51 AM UTC
To the unlikely Amtrak ride
the one with people
acting like cartoons.
With an announcer
over the intercom
smushing words together--
saying we'll arrive in Lodi
and then in blah blah location.
To the conductor
whom
speaks to us as children,
because to him
we look like long time
traveling companions.
He plays with our
destinations
and notices that we're going
to two different locations.
We've only known
each other existed from
the 30 minutes we rode
side by side on the bus before the train.
No matter the time.
We've become limited-less
as it was too easy to speak
and impossible to stop.
All the truths
we've shared will never be gone
the moment just as we felt in it
can never truly come to an end.
As long as the train keeps moving
our moment will forever trek on.
Even after I have left the ride
and you've finally fallen aleep
without my company to stir you awake.
It may never happen again
just like the dreams you're having
right this moment.
But least we came to speak
for the shortest
of train rides.
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 12:18 PM UTC
She broke me down piece by piece
Untill their was nothing left underneath
Jokes on her ive been here before
Still has my exit markings on the door
I have a manual stashed someplace
Itll take me a while to clean up this place.
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 4:19 PM UTC