"micky" poems
BACKGROUND.
I was working at an international airport as a aircraft cleaner, this ment we went on to the planes to clean them before they went on there next flight.
I was the supervisor of a team of 6 that night, so it was my job to go to the aircraft and talk with the number one, (the number one is the head hostess), she told us when we could board the aircraft.
At the door I could see a young girl and a lady, sitting in the front row, I asked the number one if we could board, she told me they are waiting for a wheel chair for the young girl.
The wheel chair did not turn up until after this story.
This is what happened next.
I will pick the story up after my question to the number one.
THE SHORT STORY, OF A TRUE EVENT IN MY LIFE.
I am standing on the aircraft by the young girl and the number one, when I heard the girl say.
MOM! can I see the controls of the plane.
I am not sure if the number one heard this, so I related to her.
She told me she would ask the captain, and left to do so.
I was alone with the girl and the lady, so I spoke to the lady.
Hi i said, where have you come from?
The lady answered, we have been to disney land.
Wow or something like that I said, that must have been fun, the young girl spoke up.
it was, I saw lot of things, Micky Mouse.
I asked the girl her name.
Samantha she said.
At that the number one came back.
And told us, as soon as the wheel chair is here, the captain say you can look at the flight deck.
The young girl said, can I not go now?
I needed to get my cleaning team on the aircraft!
So I said to the number one.
I will carry her to the flight deck if that is ok.
It was agreed.
So I picked up young Samantha, and carried her forward to the flight deck. number one and Lady behind me.
The number one past me, to ask the captain, if this was ok, and it was.
As we entered the captain said, hi my name is John. the young girl said hi my is Samantha, welcome sammy, said the captain.
The co pilot stood up, to give Samantha his seat.
The captain and Sammy talk about the instruments.
The captain still had his head phones around his neck, What are those?
Sammy asked.
That is my contact with the flight controllers he said, can I have a go? Sammy said.
The captain put on his head phone and asked the control tower, and she did have a go.
Then the wheel chair turned up, and the captain was told by the number one.
You must go now Sammy, thank you John she said, I picked her up from the co-pilots seat, thanked the captain, and the co-pilot on the way out, also the number one, and took the girl down the plane, Sammy then asked me.
What is your name?
Paul I said, she then said this to me.
Thank you Paul I will remember that the rest of my life, at this the lady burst into tears, I placed Sammy in the wheel chair and walked with them to the exit.
I asked the lady, why do you cry, she told me that Sammy was dyeing of cancer and he flight was for a cure and a trip to disneyland, but the cure, did not work, and Sammy might be dead within the year.
I cried for about an hour!
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 7:37 AM UTC
The simple life
of burgers and fries
maybe not the best for your health
but they're a feast for the eyes
The very thought of 'em
just makes ya feel good
whether you're on the road
or at home in the hood
Yep burgers and fries
your waist might despise
but who the hell cares
when you're out with the guys
Go get you some Wendy's
or Micky-D's down the road
Sonic or Five-Guys
let some fat now get stowed
Once you start eatin' some burgers and fries
you're doin' it right
when you let out your belt
and your pants are too tight
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
So come everybody throw ya hands
In the air for me
If y'all feelin this jubilee
O yea so lets get back to the actions
Satisfaction
Of celebrities got ya main attraction
No actin I'm packing
Gats to baseball bats and who dat?
Call me poetry wack splat
Goes through ya back bullet hole
Filljn those
Empty spots ya can't touc what's hot
I got reps like birdie
Above the rim lace blunt with traces
Of v slims
Who can stop me if my potency
Is near infinite
I'm embedded in ya melon eternally
Too cool for y'all to see I be
With this jubilee a juvenile
Born in the wild never smiled as child
All I wanted was a few toys from micky ds
Could barely afford cheese
Make tracks sneeze when I breath
Got thick chicks from here all the way to Belize
Please don't be ignorant
Just throw ya hands up to this anthem
Ya can't phantom
The jubilee is slammin-
Come on
Not that the time is right
Refocused my sight the black knight
Knocking outsights now ya braille as **** for trynA **** with
The m o b s t e r ghetto star
All hands on the r
Ruger luger quick to shoot ya scoop ya
Out of the scene like ice cream
One man team
Don't need a **** near friend in need
Please believe
I got backups like traffic
Hit the skins is automatic cuz static
To radio station they hate me
Cuz I don't participate in ********
I'm concerned with
These ***** *** punks running politics
Donald Trump I gotta automatic thAt loves to dump
Throw his *** in the trunk
Puff skunks I'm slammin on the gas
Like an alley oopp dunk full of *****
Dikes to lesbians all want a piece of me
I ain't cocky but stocky like Rocky
Picket pock me ill find thee
Restin peace to my enemies
That couldn't get to me
I'm hater proof so y'all just throw ya hands in the air for me
And represent this jubilee ahh. Come on
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 12:01 PM UTC
My pink and purple drain pipe trousers.
Walk with me... yes they do.
Spliting me down the middle.
Spliting me in two.
One side pink.
The other side, more blue.
I feel like Micky Mouse all day.
But never feel gay.
Feel free to whistle...
If you feel the need to.
But never say I am gay!
Wearing my pink and purple trousers today.
Hip, hip hooooooooray.
But never say I am gay!
Pink and Purple trousers.
What will we see today.
As I strut. and say.
Morning Misses Hay.
Morning Paul... She will say.
How are you today?
I will wink.... and then proceed to say...
Wearing my pink and purple trousers today.
Hip, hip hooooooooray.
But but do’nt call me gay!
Yes, I noticed... then she walks away.
Just wearing my pink and purple trousers today.
Guess I have to get out of this town.
Seams all that is left for me is pain.
Maybe I wear my pink and purple trousers again!
It is better by you...better by than me!
Jan 10, 2012
Jan 10, 2012 at 3:37 PM UTC
Family Bound
My Family means everything too me
Got a brother in the Navy He's married got a beautiful
wife too.
He's enjoyin the beautiful sunsets in the city where Micky Cohen use to own.
Got my other brother whos a gear head, a knucklehead, works on knuckle heads, and hes my knuckles too.
Me and him use to get into it throw a little bruises around but **** has he made me proud
went to the city where you can cook eggs on the sidewalk Pheonix.
Went to school too work on bikes and now works at Harley.... this means for me free tee shirts and cool biker partys too go to
hot women in leather pants and mean dudes with long goatees.
My Mom shes a healer, a bible dealer, and the leader of a womens AA program but is married to a Ex-convict, Ex-felon, Ex-drug dealing, Ex-rapist
I never understood why she goes for trying to heal men maybe it's because shes been trying to fix all of her 3 boys and thats the only way she knows how to love a man. Either way I love her too death and it'll be death if that man decides to lay a hand on her again... you'll see something that only Hades eyes have seen but enough about that loser... Unto my Old man.
My pops hes a machine mechanic a use too be psychobath maniac tatted up with rough hands, palms always itching and eyes always looking out for his family. He once told me Jay " You Gotta Pay to Play" and those words have stuck with me for some reason for a long *** time. He always has these little one liners that just make ya get back to reality,wipe your nose clean, put your head up and stand up straight and get back to the money. So thats my blood thats what makes my heart beat everyday knowing that my family gots my back to succeed.
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 12:40 PM UTC
cherubs chuckle
bellybuttons tingle
fearsome fangs sink into speedy intuitive youths
brainwaves command bodies
advertisements command brainwaves
they quickly capture the attentive child
melancholy *******
thinking deeply
and eating mcdonalds
Jul 20, 2010
Jul 20, 2010 at 7:42 PM UTC
Energy, obedience, sociability with others.
The molding of man.
Who came first man or mothers?
Impossible it seems, to be next to our brothers.
Like we’re made in a tube by the chemist Carothers.
Through my own scrutiny our leaders slide effortlessly by.
Chevron. Monopoly . Then multiply.
Micky D’s. Big Mac with cheese.
OH and a large order of fries.
I’ll take a viral video over surprise or goodbyes.
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 3:17 AM UTC
Surprisingly enough,
this little vile of some
horrible stuff
called "Pink-Pink"
is actually rather
musky.
And to think,
after three months
and then two more,
I would get six checks.
Micky Mantle captivated
the nation,
and Lars Montannaro
is captivating
this town.
All the while
Michael Moore is killing God
and God is killing us.
One must ask oneself,
did God create me,
or did I create God?
Is God within me,
or am I God myself?
Throughout John Carpenter's life
many questions plagued him,
most remained unanswered,
few allowed him to live
and one killed him.
He lies dying,
gasping for air,
with nothing but
Steinbeck and brandy
to bid him farewell.
On a bed without sheets,
in a motel without a kitchen,
in a town without a theater,
in a state without a king,
in a land without hope,
God lays dying.
With nothing but the prayers of
Mary Stein to bid him goodnight,
he prays himself.
Every man is a believer in the foxhole,
just as he is a saint.
Praying and praying,
the fire rallies
around a man,
his emancipated guts
lay spewing blood in the dirt.
Without a clear objective man is nothing.
Nothing is everything,
and everything is unexplainable
just as nothing can be explained.
The Dark sings a song it believes to be beautiful,
and the Light finds it discouraging to it's attempts
of what it believes to be beautiful.
So the Light chases away the Dark
and the Wanderers wonder where it went.
Wandering this world,
they try
and try
and try
to find it.
They are looking in the wrong world.
The man with a gun
runs to the store and back
and back
and back again.
The willows whisper a tune for their god
that the oaks find blasphemous.
The oaks chant louder and louder
so as to please their god.
Life goes on
and life goes on
and life goes on
and then it doesn't.
Then suddenly it begins
in a thousand more forms
and in a thousand more lungs
it breathes.
Life will continue to exalt God
and God will continue allowing life to breathe.
For as long as there is air,
breathes shall be taken.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 12:33 AM UTC
I've come
to the realization
that I will never love
Micky the way that I loved you.
But, I also know that maybe that is fine.
Sure, some days I spend my free time plucking out
eyelashes and trying to get a free wish or two. (or three)
But for the most part, I know that maybe I'm not
meant to love him like I loved you.
No two people are the same,
so how can I give any
two people the
same love?
I'll never love anyone the way that I loved you,
but that doesn't mean I'll never love again.
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 2:57 PM UTC
I lay myself open to you...
Like a thumb worn novel
aspiring to be a classical romance...
coming off as a cheap
dime store
rag
My lines less Tennyson and Shelley
more Micky Spillani
yet feel the warmth of each page
once pressed against
my aching
breast
for it heard my needful heart
tasted my tears
Read between the lines
find the nervous boy behind the man
all fingers and thumbs
typing out words his Tongue
could never
speak
Each comma each fullstop
an anxious
drawn
out breath...
as I thought of you discarding me
in pursuit of passion
yet know the foreword and the photograph
do no justice to my ache
for you
to find me
there amongst the metaphors
waiting...
for you alone
to know the real me.
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 11:35 PM UTC
My pink and purple drain pipe trousers.
Walk with me, yes they do.
Spliting me down the middle.
Spliting me in two.
One side pink.
The other side, more blue.
I feel like Micky Mouse all day.
But never feel gay.
Feel free to whistle.
If you feel the need to.
But never say I am gay.
Wearing my pink and purple trousers today.
Hip, hip hooooooooray.
But never say I am gay.
Pink and Purple trousers.
What will we see today.
As I strut. and say.
Morning Misses Hay.
Morning Paul she will say.
How are you today.
I will wink, and then proceed to say.
Wearing my pink and purple trousers today.
Hip, hip hooooooooray.
But do’nt call me gay.
Yes, I noticed, then she walks away.
Just wearing my pink and purple trousers today.
Jan 10, 2012
Jan 10, 2012 at 2:28 PM UTC
Please leave your message after the tone, though I’ll probably never get back to you.
Gaffer, Phil here, can you drive a car with three wheels.
Paul, Sheryl, I’m leaving you for a Canadian lumberjack, don’t try and talk me out of it.
Gaffer, Micky here, that bird Tasmin you hooked me up with, she wants to try the buddha position, what the hell is it.
Gaffer, Phil, I’ve been arrested, ******* fifty quid in the license, you ********
Paul, Sheryl, you would just let me go off with a Lumberjack, you *******
Mr Gaffney, do you know you’re entitled to five thousand pounds for that accident you had three years ago. Phone us.
Paul, Linda here, I’ve left Tony, can I crash at yours for a few days.
Paul, Nurse Jackie here at the Psychiatric hospital, just an update from the doctor, he’s still in two minds.
Gaffer, Phil here, can you come and bail me out.
Paul, Sheryl, I’ve dumped the Lumberjack, going out with Hans now, my soul mate.
Paul, Tracy down at the STD clinic, your tests are clear, and no, I don’t want to celebrate with you.
Gaffer, Micky, that Tamsin's a guy, what the hell is wrong with you.
Gaffer, Phil, are you coming or what.
Paul, Linda, We’re going to give it another go.
Paul, Sheryl here, I’m giving you one more chance, I could have my pick of guys, why the hell I picked you only god knows, I’m coming round now.
Paul, This is the sunshine retreat holiday company, your immediate sabbatical is now ready when you are.
Paul, nurse Jackie here at the Psychiatric hospital, is the doctor at yours.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 9:45 AM UTC
My pink and purple drain pipe trousers.
Walk with me, yes they do.
Spliting me down the middle.
One side pink.
The other side, more blue.
I feel like Micky Mouse, all day.
Feel free to whistle.
If you feel the need to.
But never say I am gay.
Wearing my pink and purple trousers today.
Hip, hip hooooooooray.
But never say I am gay.
Pink and Purple trousers.
What will we see today.
Jan 10, 2012
Jan 10, 2012 at 1:59 PM UTC
Man is to God
as Walt Disney is to
Micky Mouse
We’re all disillusioned with reality
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 9:00 AM UTC
I have a tiny ****
Like a crooked little finger
Everybody else's ****
Is inevitably bigger
If six inch as an average
Can truly be believed
Someone here in this room
Must be twice the size of me
If you can do your algebra
Already you will know
Four inches is the maximum
My **** will ever go
For the engineers among you
I'll express my ratio
My little one inch wonder
Up to four times it can grow
I'm glad to hear you laugh
It shows you understand
These are such the shortcomings of
A very short **** man
My ***** they can grow longer
Into a comfy little nest
With a little acorn sat
Upon the very crest
Rummage in my fly and
Wish that I were blessed
Searching frantically
I recover just the head
Get a little **** drip
Up on my finger tip
There's absolutely nothing there
For me to get a grip
If I sit to *** I must
Be wary of my jet
The angle of my dangle means
My trousers may get wet
Then dribble on my ball bag
For my **** does not overhang
These are such the shortcomings of
A very short **** man
I **** it with one finger
If you really want to know
And no I can't imagine
The feeling of deep throat
When I look down I can
Still clearly see my toes
But my little ***** hides
Beneath my belly folds
Sometimes it is inverted
Even when it isn't cold
Like a little turtle
Inside of me it goes
Girls they like to tell me
It is a cute surprise
Until I have to tell them I
Left the ****** stuck inside
I'm hung like Micky Mouse
You've just got to understand
These are such the shortcomings of
A very short **** man
Now why would I admit to this?
By now you know it's true
I'm such a little babydick
Exposed in front of you
But the greater pain exists
In propagating myths
According to the internet
Real men have massive *****
So for anyone who feels small
Let me reassure you all
By bringing down the average
With my little four inch *****
So if you're sat with five or six
Feel the relief
And if you really want to,
Then have a laugh at me
You no longer have to hide it
Give a **** or give a ****
You no longer have to let it
Be the measure of the man
And I guess I kinda like it
When I am being teased
These are such the shortcomings of
A short **** man like me
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 8:47 AM UTC
*because what's actually worth celebrating? well, i always celebrate another bunch of words, another litre of *** and, most obviously: another tomorrow.*
for a long time now i have
seized to celebrate
birthdays...
only this year have
i stopped "celebrating" easter:
coming from a traditionalist
family,
with my great-grandmother
dead for several years
everyone in the family
joked: she said enough prayers
for all of us...
my great-grandfather
took the micky out her in
that lovingly joking way anyway
he used to say:
you and your crows (priests,
that's the slang term for
a priest in poland) -
i can't remember
the last time i celebrated christmas,
or should it be called:
adverts from november through
to january marketing mecca
"holiday"?
but it breaks my heart
with regards to birthdays,
i don't celebrate it -
fair enough up to 25...
but a bit like receiving voting rights,
i think people have the potential
to relinquish their celebration
of something that's cake-worthy
once the teenage years end...
nonetheless...
on the dot,
i receive the phone call
on the day...
my grandparents...
wishing me this that & the other...
and... that's it!
it's actually more painful
to receive that phonecall,
than to receive: no phonecall
with besh wishes and what not.
i grew out the candles,
the balloons...
what is to be celebrated,
may i ask?
as the cliche says:
women lie about their age anyway,
if they found a way to avoid
the celebratory antics -
me? i'm just waiting for my
grandparents to die...
cruel, i know,
but it's much more cruel to receive
a phonecall from them,
"wishing" me a happy birthday...
day like any one...
now, if i remembered squeezing past
the genital skin of my mother...
that would be something...
thankfully, man's faculty of memory
and therefore being conscious
comes much much later,
thank god for that.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 6:11 PM UTC
You seem to be my Clyde to my Bonnie
You seem to be my Martin to my Gina
You seem to be my Bobby to my Whitney
And you are more than I could ever ask for
You get on my nerves
You call me names (but in a friendly way)
You tell me your honest opinion
And you even check others when it comes to me!
You are my Micky to my Minnie
You are my Homer to my Marge
You are my Peter to my Louis
And you are someone I can trust
You helped me up whenever I was feeling down
You showed me that giving up wasn’t an option
You treated me like no other!
You can be my Simba to my Nala
You can be my Prince Adam “Beast” to my Belle
You can be my Shrek to my Fiona
And you can be more than just my friend
You honestly opened my eyes
You made me change my mind about dating
You always told me I was beautiful!
You will forever be my Lucious to my Cookie
You will forever be my Jamie to my Fancy
You will forever be my Dwayne to my Whitley
And I plan on making this last forever
You seem to be my friend
You seem to be my lover
You seem to be my other half!
Honestly
I think you’re my best friend...
Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 12:23 PM UTC
What does a grown-ass man
do?
Does he wear a suit
and
tie?
Does he fish on the weekends?
Does he go to work in the morning,
and deal with constant pressures
on his head?
I think a grown-ass man
kicks his kids out
when
they're not acting correct.
I think he cries
when they sleep
in places that aren't home,
and scrounge
pennies
from their pockets
to get some Micky D's.
A grown-ass man
loves his life
because this is the only one he has
no matter
how
bad.
When he goes to work
he listens to jazz
because the trumpets
remind of him of his
baby's
gurgles
and
that child going hungry
isn't an option.
His wife and him fight
because he thinks she's not
raising the kids right,
when she really is,
but he's really got fear in his heart,
the good kind,
the kind that makes him compassionate
when he kisses his
baby daughter's
lips
before the sun has come up.
When I think of a grown-ass man
I think of my father,
even when he's ****** up
to the nth degree
and I can say I love him
because he is the tree
and he has carefully
tended my plot of earth
even when he dealt with a dearth
of love.
Apr 19, 2012
Apr 19, 2012 at 8:00 PM UTC
He wins the nobbly knee contest coz he is so very bony..haha his legs goes right up to his pants, two sticks of skinny polony..and he laughs just like a hyena with no teeth left in his gob..hes abit of a museum piece and isn’t a heartthrob..
But everyone adores Irish Micky Flynn with his Ballymoney Blarney..from County Donegal down to the southwest shores of Killarney..coz all he ever does allday is banter on his jokes, keeping people happy he is the jolliest of folks..and he chats to absolutely everybody, infact he is just a blether..with his thin arms waving high in the air as he forecasts the weather..he talks the hind legs of a donkey and still he doesn’t stop, as he sits with his mug of cocoa in his local coffee shop..
Oct 5, 2020
Oct 5, 2020 at 5:55 AM UTC
Who is standing before me?
Not the boy I used to see
The boy I knew, had Irish eyes
Filled with laughter, they told no lies
Micky boy, he once was known
Broken down from years on his own
Who is this stranger in front of me?
The boy I knew had soft curls and rosy cheeks
This was not who he was supposed to be
The boy I knew, had Irish eyes
Watching his back his eyes are strained
His heart once pure, is now stained
Micky boy, where have you been?
I tried to shield you from this world of sin.
Who is this boy in front of me?
Lord, answer my prayers he still isn’t free
The boy I knew had Irish eyes
He used to stiffen his lip to hold in his cries
Those Irish eyes aren’t smiling now
Sold to the devil, he took a vow
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 5:38 PM UTC
on your nuts
enjoy the feeling
we are
fixing
to
chew them off
while your crying
maybe you can
catch my
breath
micky
?
...
..
.
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 6:57 AM UTC
Dingy dongy tiki tiki,
Boomy doomy hissy pi,
Hushy hushi, pluckahchaki,
Traki doomy criihh.
Chipy Gippy farafashhh,
Micky mucky boooo eeh ah,
Dingy dongy hikipiki,
Boomy zoomieka.
Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 10:59 AM UTC
is so much more
goofy talked to him and mini
they got together
an
radedd my box
he has some stupid last name now
he figured out how smart we are
now he is trying to get me
to
be
his
imaginary girlfriends lover
he is the new micky mouse
?
...
..
.
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 6:42 AM UTC
Sunday night and
tomorrow
bright and early
(Alright maybe not so bright)
I'll be there
Soho Square
waiting for the caretaker
to make a
Monday show of it.
Here's the bit that gets tricky,
I call him methuselah
but Dave is picky
and insists on Dave
then
tells me off for taking
the Micky.
all part of the charity where
although it's a serious affair
there's so much hilarity
Still work though
so I'll go on
going on about it.
Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC