"lyft" poems
Joe without his legs
Wheelchair, bedside G.I.
At a meeting
Ruminating and feeling
It’s like A.A.
Rehabilitation games
The system plays War
Craft with missing halves
PTSD R e s p e c t
That ain’t the half
Of the stink and the taint
Sniffing glue
Replacing chipped paint
Joe only worries
If there’s somewheres
To be
After rehab
Need a Lyft Uber quick
Downtown a ton to do
Joe worries arriving in 12 steps
Sponsor anonymously
Befriend responsibly
Joe worries
Like long time buds
His legs
That they won’t work
Like they did back when
He got laid
And was paid
By way of Vietnam
And ****** Uncle Sam.
Joe worries
Of wheelchair accesses
His favorite places without
Doors he’d like to
Fit in
And go on
Normally
Accepted
To be loved like a brother
That no one knew
And no one seems or cares to
Joe feels like
A third wheel
A phantom limb
Who’s bucket list is to
“Invest in the Google”
“Learn how to use
The cloud”
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 1:50 PM UTC
These words that have pull and plunge your being into an intense trip. Watch the words, fly off the page and take you through time faster than any Uber or Lyft.
For this neat little trick, we employ the words that grip.
The ones that squeeze and then some that suddenly hold until the reader drips. Fill their bottle with a cuffing concoction, with every verse, they'll take a sip!
Nov 14, 2023
Nov 14, 2023 at 10:31 AM UTC
Gave of salacious self, your just due
My one and only dream I wanted to come true
Earthbound after a meteorite crash
Healing properties within this castaway shall come to pass
Wings has been tenderly clipped
The aftermath of a silent emotional eclipse
Walking, running, and soaring, keep flapping but slowly slipping
Heartbeat dipping, ripping
Slowly suffocating as I’m contemplating
Feelings keep overruling, dominating
Restless from stagnation
Mental searching for relocation
Suspended, spent, recessed from the relent
In the hunt for a pleasurable escape to soar to the sky
No questions no earthly whys
A Galactic Dream Weaver
Da Vinci Code, I’m picking up my telephone receiver
The Holy Grail secrets for my mind to set sail
The marooned answers found in life’s details
Standing in vain, waiting for a starship from a cosmic believer
No expressive deceivers
My Mazda 5, an Uber, or a Lyft driver can’t get me up there
Without restraints, I need to inhale celestial air
Showered by a beautiful spiritual given rainbow
Sentiments offered from a treasured chest as they stream when they softly flow
A Gordian knot devoid of hope, a beanstalk, for me, too slow
Something one must know
As your presence comes to offer me a sweet riding tow
Spirit is now on the run
Trying to astral plane beyond the sun
I need to glance down from the stars
Up and beyond, emotions, mistakes seem so miniscule and far
The beginning, the ending, where I descended
The integrity of a tattered angel, a cocoon of self, until my cerebral cortex is Heavenly mended
As my earthly presence blends within
Keeping a rein on life’s sins
I do not know if my salsa dance has come to an end
The absence of loss as emotions reflect to bend
Does time ever remain the same
Please don’t forget my name
On the contrary
For the love given from a twinkling star, and a kiss from an earthbound fairy
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:15 AM UTC
♡M@k€ M£ W@N@ @cT Ryht♡
♧B0d3
♧XtrA
♧T¥T
♧A_n't Tr€i£Na
☆Fyght
♧Must+R
♢AL MI
□WiL
♢AL MI
☆Myht
□Not Tryna Go
□UR
☆Hyht
□Jus W@n@ t@K3 ☆Flyt
♢W@lk
《Lyft
♢W@lk
Ryt 》
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 9:03 PM UTC
Chewing the hard burnt bits of cheese off of frozen pizza
I am soft, I am light, I am not giving a single **** about the extra calories I'm consuming at 3 AM.
Ellios.
But from the hospital my mother works at,
must have been reheated a few times now.
I don't ******* care. It's food.
And here I am. Alone in my bed.
Listening to Russian Circles and hoping
it'll help me write something actually worth sharing for once.
Eh, I'd rather not take myself so.
I like a few guys.
I like a girl very much.
I'm starting a new job.
I'm scared of what's to come.
I'm scared of disappointing everyone.
I'm an ellios pizza stowed away as leftovers, a midnight snack.
Hoping to be worthy of praise.
Sprinkled in trader joes seasoning. I'm just so special.
I'm tasty but I'm so much more than I seem.
Cook me in the oven, if you want me crispy.
I cure hangovers.
Just with my fingertips, I promise.
Sleep with me, and see.
You'll see that I'm honest.
You'll be there in the morning.
I might decide to take a hike.
Don't ask me to stay. You don't ever mean that.
I'm fine admiring myself in my frontal camera,
on a lyft ride back home with dancehall music in the background.
I'm worth so much of my own praise that I forget to text you back.
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 2:45 AM UTC
You said "Pull, and don't stop pulling until I tell you to."
I knew this was where my training as a wind breather was going to pay off.
I expelled all nitrogen, carbon dioxide, and oxygen from my alveoli
And pulled.
I pulled and I looked at you,
Staring at me.
I deconstructed your face, your hair, your teeth, your eyes, your clothes, your life.
I deconstructed your Mexico and what you did to my friend.
I deconstructed the cigarettes you and your brother bummed off of me.
I tore you apart.
Organism, ***** tissue, cell, organelle, molecule, atom, electrons protons and neutrons.
I couldn't pull any longer.
I don't know if you knew I couldn't,
Or simply determined I was set.
"Okay, stop."
I couldn't breathe out. I couldn't breathe in.
I was suffocating.
She put poison in my lungs and my body is dying.
Water.
Water.
It stops.
I can breathe.
My lungs recoil and I can see straight.
She poisoned me but I love her.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 7:11 AM UTC
You requested a ride with your phone
since you don't walk at night all alone.
You were tired and drunk
so in the back seat you sunk
dropping your coat with a groan.
I drive around town after work,
because bills pile up if i shirk.
Patriotic America
writes corporate erotica
and leaves me with nary a perk.
Since I can't drive for Uber or Lyft
I'm stuck working first and third shift.
The money's much needed,
but I wish fewer heeded
capitalist lies, so I'm miffed.
FAGSS really get me to ****
(fully automated gay space socialism)
But until then I roam,
only renting (no home).
Hurry up now and rise communism.
Lyft and Uber make me dough.
But only as long as drunks go
out and party all night
maybe run into a fight,
but please, by all means, take it slow.
Uber wants to prevent their drunk riders
from being real rowdy outsiders.
So they no longer sit
in the car that they picked.
Get ready for eggs and slashed tires.
Uber's CEO likes Trump.
On his face I'd like to dump
tons of gross ****
including his ****
before squashing him into a lump.
Hello, I'll be your Lyft driver.
Get in, and be a Lyft rider.
Please buckle, no whimper.
Go ahead, sulk and simper,
but please, can you tip me a fiver?
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 2:21 PM UTC
kevin told me he was going to quit his job today
i sit beside him at a temp job
in a cramped cubicle
the whole thing is terrible
i fail at my little temp job
all day long
he lost his phone three days ago,
the new kid from new york
told him he should just call his carrier
and buy insurance, then wait a few days
and report the phone as lost or stolen
to get a replacement
kevin was not willing to do that
i never bothered to follow up
and ask if he had found his phone
i'm not sure what he will do with all
his time on no income
he is an extravert who likes to go out
a few months ago
i gave kevin a forceful
and impassioned lecture
about how no one should be
treated like **** at their jobs
and thats why i had quit mine
then kevin said he wished he had a **** you fund
i told kevin to save his money
kevin told me that was in debt because
there was this girl in this band
and he spent a lot of money on uber and lyft
and going out drinking
i wasn't sure if there were additonal purchases in that story
about the girl and the debt
i hope i didn't inspire him to quit his job
with no back up plans
he said he was tired of waiting around for things to get better
he really loves the music of the nineties
he said it was the best time to grow up
he is into third eye blind, the gin blossoms,
breeders and some other singers of songs
that were just songs i listened to on the radio
waiting for another song to come on
who will i talk to now
sometimes, when i'm not persauding people
to quit their jobs, i watch shows about prison,
people who end up in prison for ****** accomplice,
arson, **** embezzlement, other
just so i can feel a little relieved
i'm not like them
at least it's not prison,
all the going too far in the world
never keeping from going too far
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 2:57 AM UTC
Joe without his legs
Wheelchair, bedside G.I.
At a meeting
Ruminating and feeling
It’s like A.A.
Rehabilitation games
The system plays War
Craft with missing halves
PTSD R e s p e c t
That ain’t the half
Of the stink and the taint
Sniffing glue
Replacing chipped paint
Joe only worries
If there’s somewheres
To be
After rehab
Need a Lyft Uber quick
Downtown a ton to do
Joe worries arriving in 12 steps
Sponsor anonymously
Befriend responsibly
Joe worries
Like long time friends
His legs
That they won’t work
Like they did back when
He got laid
And was paid
By way of Vietnam
And ****** Uncle Sam.
Joe worries
Of wheelchair accesses
His favorite places without
Doors he’d like to
Fit in
And go on
Living
To be loved like a brother
That no one knew
And no one cares to
Joe feels like
A third wheel
A phantom limb
Who’s bucket list is to
“Invest in the Google”
“Learn how to use
The cloud”
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
Swilled soda at 11pm at night
Wondering why I lie there at 3
Tossing turning
Decisions made far to late
Wrappers
In the trash can
Calories on the waist
Wondering why I ate that last bag of Pretzel M & M;s
Credit card limits reached
Then wondering why I didn’t spend the money on something more constructive
Lyft rides instead of the bus
Sizzling, slices
Each and every morning
Delicious squealing goodness
Whining and wishing
Hours of daydream
Hawkeye, Radar and hot lips on my tv
Because books would take to much time
And probably make me think
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 6:03 PM UTC
The call came late one evening
just before she would have been asleep.
Rob said "there's been a hit and run."
"A stranger found Dad in the street."
She got herself dressed hurriedly
without an eye to style.
She left the kids with Steven;
A quick kiss as a goodbye.
She took Lyft to the hospital;
and as she watched the streetlights pass by.
She wondered how she ought to feel
If her father were to die.
The two of them were long estranged.
Had ever they been close?
Much easier to dress in black
if he had given up the ghost.
Rob called her from emergency
that Dad was fading fast.
His breathing was irregular
This night would be his last.
She joined Rob at the bedside
When she saw theirDad she gasped.
How could he still be breathing
with all those tubes in place.?
The old man on the gurney
reached out and squeezed her hand.
Her father was too far gone to speak
but hoped she'd understand.
There was no time for redemption
before the old man slipped above.
But, as she bent to kiss his battered cheek
there was time enough for love
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 5:34 PM UTC
joe —without his legs,
Wheelchair, bedside G.I.
At a meeting
Ruminating and feeling
It’s like A.A.
Rehabilitation games
The system plays War
Craft with missing halves
PTSD R e s p e c t
That ain’t the half
Of the stink and the taint
Sniffing glue
Replacing chipped paint
Joe only worries
If there’s somewheres
To be
After rehab
Need a Lyft Uber quick
Downtown a ton to do
Joe worries arriving in 12 steps
Sponsor anonymously
Befriend responsibly
Joe worries
Like long time buds
His legs
That they won’t work
Like they did back when
He got laid
And was paid
By way of Vietnam
And ****** Uncle Sam.
Joe worries
Of wheelchair accesses
His favorite places without
Doors he’d like to
Fit in
And go on
Normally
Accepted
To be loved like a brother
That no one knew
And no one seems or cares to
Joe feels like
A third wheel
A phantom limb
Who’s bucket list is to
“Invest in the Google”
“Learn how to use
The cloud”
Jan 22, 2021
Jan 22, 2021 at 2:49 PM UTC
After about fifty years as married wife
the last three fraught with strife
obvious telltale signs of terminal illness rife
hysterectomy irrevocably didst jackknife
at the least severely incapacitated
think pitted, riddled,
and rounced her tortured life.
Ovarian cancer affliction
on par with megadeath
bald pate (color of bleached skull),
and crossbones characterized mortal death
oxygen tank to sustain each measured breath.
Nonetheless her angry spirited accursed
ferocity, ejaculatory, denunciatory burst
expletive and epithet
peppered preponderant rant,
(no kidney you) laced
and dull livered worst
fulmination, exasperation,
(albeit feebly faint)
damnation well versed
lips mouthing implacable thirst
to defy grim reaper uber
lyft driver analogous hearst
jubilation immune to
interrogation and/or humiliation
diatribes interpreted glorification,
remained scythe lent bore
scathing rebukes hurled regarding
her sole son (courtesy
miraculous biological reproduction)
dogged with financial perdition
eased series of unfortunate events narration
blessed nonagenarian widower husband
generous father gave male progeny
eased (his/mine) absolution
availed immense monetary boost,
she (envision banshee)
voiced abhorrent objection
regarding liberal outpouring
triggered her vitriolic remenstration.
Similar with pointed gesticulation,
excoriation, cannibalization, abomination...
against reducing his albatross
yoking penurious defeat
her livid hostility displayed, decried,
****** how Matthew Scott,
(I shoal mussel metaphor
without clamming up, how
said offspring coasts) along easy street,
while she sorely protested (thankfully in vain)
even after succumbing to painful demise,
she vehemently, obstreperously and helplessly
loathes handsome handout
to yours truly forsakes Pete.
Jan 16, 2020
Jan 16, 2020 at 5:55 PM UTC
a dog and a man
through the window
of my lyft.
a man with his thoughts
in his head so adrift.
a dog with his owner
laying patiently for command.
an owner and his dog,
a leash in his hand.
Feb 10, 2020
Feb 10, 2020 at 3:00 AM UTC
There’s moments we remember
There’s moments we never forget
There’s moments of silence ...
We wish we had
Death by stereo
Turn it down or give me death
Nov 1, 2019
Nov 1, 2019 at 11:42 PM UTC
I called for a shared Lyft,
The nemesis of Uber in the U.S
Most people always wish for less people
I wished for someone to join the ride
To take my mind off him
At least I would look at that person’s winter Jacket
Or try to understand their accent
They would give me something else to think of
Apart from him
I would take my mind off him
The streets are empty
I can hear the sound of silence
Of the quiet night time
I was seeing an old friend from grad school
Even in my solitude what has come to be a non- shared ride
He invaded my thoughts
I can’t take my mind off of him
The night time traffic lights bring so much colours to the night
This ride is longer than I expected
Why can’t I clear my thoughts of him already
Did he brand me without my knowledge?
Why does he never leave my thoughts
This night ride was ‘me’ time
To think of what I have to wear tomorrow
And how early I have to wake up
What train route I have to take
But I can’t take my mind off him
So I finally reached home
Still alone in what was supposed to be a shared ride
My night ride wasn’t quiet
It wasn’t serene
It was filled with thoughts of him
I will one day take my mind off of him
And have a quiet night ride.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 9:45 AM UTC