"mucking" poems
Painting my eyes black
Blindly mucking up my face
It is disgusting
Dec 9, 2010
Dec 9, 2010 at 8:03 PM UTC
Uncle Christmas was mucking out happily mucking in and wondering what might have been had his twin not been sneakier and the first to emerge to claim the 'Father' moniker.
Uncle found to his surprise he was quite content to be the deputy and not have the pressure at the top of the Christmas hierarchy. Rather he was happier working with the reindeer, being grubbier, a little smellier, leaving his brother to bear the fur lined mantle that was heavier.
However,
at each and every Christmas dinner when the family all got together to enjoy the post-advent breather, Uncle would still insist with his Christmas pudding grin that compared to his older twin he was far harder working,
a little better looking
and definitely
relatively
slim.
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 4:13 AM UTC
Which face will I wear today
The face I wear at work
Cheerful member of the staff
Underpaid - unappreciated
Tiny office with no window
Paperwork nobody looks at
Rules just for the sake of rules
Which face will I wear today
The face I wear at home
Always tired, depressed, besieged
by a thousand minor ailments
All the things I'd like to do
crowded out by other things
I have to do that are no fun.
Which face will I wear today
The face that sports a poet's cap
Gel filled quill pen clutched in hand
Trying every format I can learn
Gleaning from the published experts
Writing happy after years of sad
Finding sunshine in the shadows that I live in
Which face will I wear today
The face above the helping hands
that reach for places to be used
That garner joy from mucking in
to smooth the path for others
Seldom thanked - often refused
Bucket goal - to save a life.
Which face will I wear today
The face that looks back from the mirror
Mapping all the tracks of age
Searching for the sparkle in the eyes
that joined hands with my youthful looks
and did a conga-line away
Which face will I wear today
Picasso portrait of them all
Ill and hale - strong and weak - sad and glad
When seen together in the mirror
it's a face I do not know
and someone I don't care to meet
So check the clock and choose a face
Paste it on and smooth it out
Comb hair over all the edges
**** the light and close the door
And take this face out for a walk
See if anybody says hello
ljm
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 1:29 PM UTC
Uncle Christmas
was mucking out
happily mucking in
and wondering
what might have been
had his twin not been sneakier
and the first to emerge
to claim the Father moniker.
Uncle found to his surprise
he was quite content to be
the deputy
and not have the pressure
at the top of the Christmas hierarchy.
Rather he was happier
working with the reindeer,
being grubbier, a little smellier,
leaving his brother
to bear the mantle that was heavier.
However at each and every Christmas dinner
when the family all got together
Uncle still insisted with a jocular grin
that compared to his twin
he was far better looking
and definitely
relatively
slim.
Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 5:14 PM UTC
***“Who will judge, as many trudge
through mud, mucking up the rug,
a coating of clay formed by God on a particular day.
Yet talent is ingrained, whether sane or insane,
and verse is treasure or a curse, unrehearsed, dispersed for all to see,
will they applaud or disparage, this marriage of mind and rhyme,
by design aligned, a sign of the times...”***
ms. patty m
~~~
once again a thunderbolt command hits between the eyes, on-right
the precise spot where the head aches with desire to fulfill the write!
but to what can I add to this encompassing question already
better answered by the questioner?
who will judge indeed!
all the time and far too often,
the flotsam rises to the surface, when better left ignored,
while the jetsam jets nowhere, buried deep though breathing yet,
on unseen sea bottom of ignorance,
luck of the draw by one who designs, who aligns,
a capricious starscape in the firmament
as well as
the infirmity & ignominy of caskets lying quiet in sea trenches
that the answer herein contained, a supposition,
a poor poets speculation, a soul’s lactation,
the very question is a cyclone bomb by competents
who are blinded+bound+blessed by
incomprehension
the only judge and jury is
your forefingers tip,
if it tremble a-slight
when caressing the key called send,
your cellular fiber
has adjudged worthy,
and no dare disagree
talent and distinction
randomly and irrationally distributed,
but the courageous caress of a send key pressed,
is all that is needed
to impress the only judge and jury
that
authorized you
in advance to
love yourself insanely well enough
to write
and
to send for
a request for sentencing
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 11:31 AM UTC
public transport
***** in every way
the trains and the trams
run on a timetable of delay
the public using these **** facilities
should protest to the transport authorities
here's a draft you can use
off your butts fellas
or you'll be in the news
no mucking around
no stalling we'll take
extract the digit
for the traveling
public's sake
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 7:56 PM UTC
Augur well, on a left ward spirral.
I never meant to ignore
the residential Wren or lazy Cat,
who always knew better
than my list of dreams.
In the alleyway with dahlias,
I wanted to think as my own,
a perchance a symbol!
now there's sacks of pebble stone and sand,
no rub of green
builders mucking in for someone's joy to settle,
side gate entrance
into a little abode no longer possibly mine.
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 6:54 PM UTC
Running here running there
doing this doing that.
calling him calling her.
fixing this fixing that.
Im just tidying up the window dressing .
Fixing the facade.
Going here going there
smiling nicely putting on spin
trying to win the face contest.
Just tidying up the window dressing.
The store is out of stock.
The Tax man is a vamp.
Printing money like stamps.
Busting up my camp.
Time is spinning faster. Playing out the string.
The treadmill tilts a steeper angle.
Winners never quit and quitters never win.
Reaching for the next rung. Just like the one before.
Just tidying up the window dressing.
I got stamina to burn.
Tax man. Gas man. Card man
Med. man. Food man. Clothes man
Mortgage man.Rent man. Car man.
Light man. Water man Boss man.
Tidying up the window dressing
Stressing hard about my stressing.
Too jammed up to count my blessing.
Tell the truth without confessing.
Politicians full of ****
Slippery as quicksilver.
Who the hell they playing with.
Left or right I'm done with it.
AGAIN.
Media. what media. Tell it to
Goebbels.
Just pulling down the window dressing
Tired of playing Bo Peep. Big boy time.
Wakie Wakie.
The old shell game.
Never give a sucker an even break
Or.
Smarten up a chump said W.C
Fields. He was serious. I'm serious.
Who's serious about 1929.
Tearing down the window dressing
Dont believe the hype.
Nero fiddled while Rome burned. He was not mad
He had a plan?
Tearing up the window dressing.
Life is much too short for mucking
about with pit vipers bugged on ecstasy.
I'm serious.
Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 1:36 AM UTC
psych ward dramas
ok, i believe i am here today
to let people have fun
i get leave every day to keep
an eye on the world
so i can help, in the way that i do
i know people can get sick of me
saying i am cronus and ****
but i do that, so i can save people on earth
so we don’t bring the old days back
cause a lot of those criminals
you can see in the glossy magazines
they look like they ae copying me
and that sort of made me feel
that i have created a world
that is full of death and yobbism
jake does a guitar solo which makes
the crowd really cheer out his name
jake jake jake oi oi oi
now, if i can get out of here
i really want to go to adelaide
so i can be in the christmas city of the world
and i want to support the adelaide crows
and go to the AFL grand final
i also wanna do my art
and profit from my writing
you see i really want to
make this psych ward a happy place to get well in
cause, really, i am still a kid
cause, to myself, i never had a good education, and i am prepared
to do that again, cause
i want that whole sill nonsense, ya know
like i am not mucking with you mate neh
, and i hate people saying your like us now man
and your not an old dogie, mate
and every kid, i thought
were trying to be cool
to make us all tease my daddy
now i was having fun
but i am 46, and i need a perfect change
and, still, ya know, i am cool
jake really stole the show with a great guitar solo
now, i want my parents to visit me
that’ll be kinda fun
but i don’t want to be a client, all my life
and i want to stop phedaphelia, cause it’s bad
i don’t care about what used to happen, i know
buddha wouldn’t like that
ya need to respect kids ya know
it’s just that it’s fucken hard to stop a kidnapper
and that is why buddha tries to make peace with this whole situation
and yesterday, i explained
that about 63 australians jumping from a plane
and i portrayed it as every victim of school shootings coming back to earth
nobody dies ya know, we are all here there and everywhere
the cartoonist said, this is a cartooning class, not a psychology class or a vision class
i would like to teach people about space travel via sleep, like i do
cause, man, this is ****** fun and i do do a show on channel 44
and if people complain about me
i will say, get with the times ya ***
jake did a big guitar solo which gave a freezing blizzard to mercury
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 7:30 AM UTC
Mulling about
The muck
The haunts we are hardbound
Foggy fetal leavings by the sea
Right before the light;
The days of purple haze
Of sallow street cars, street lamp, amped up
Yet dampened loss of desire
Pop another oxy-hydro-fire.
To be able
To muck about
With inner abandon
the abandonments deep
Numb battlements / "Hoorah!"
Semper Fi the pain
Only significant
With derivatives
From ******* plantations
Opioid addiction’s contractually binding
Lingering love notes
A vice grip on idle minds
So many now that prey
But with a side affect of
Try holding in your ****
for three-plus days
So as not to feel
Not at all
Not even the rage
We keep anxiously pacing
Clawing at
Nonexistent strings
A Beast inside our cage
Forgiven by preacher men
Proclaiming to hallelujah
Change
At war with illusionist
Freedom
The boys fight for still
A country of patriotic pill poppers
Believing in heavenly kingdoms'
Healing
Secret silent pleading
Because nothing takes away
The pain
Like Hydro Oxy foxy pills
Self medicate down wind of will
If unaffected "consult your physician"
He’s at the edge of the stage
A Spearmint rhino making it rain
For Peaches
From patient list of his *******
The business of lust
Is feeding the loss of will
If you still feel lost -- and war sure did
Give them nothing but
PTSD & bad dreams
Machine gun migraines
Pop another pill
Jagged little killer
Softly knocks you off your feet
Black is cheaper
Smoke out not to feel
The muck-about days of
Constipated pains
Reader Digesting heavily,
Numbingly unreal.
Casualty of a nameless waste
That’s his deal / what it's like :
Most fecund
A life on the toilet
In wait for relief…
Get off the ***
Can't give a ****
Like this bowel movement
His heart has called it quits
To all this unholy *******
Veteran
Patriot
Manhood’s defeat
Damnation
Mucking about...
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 11:02 AM UTC
the first time I can recall a teapot whistling in the manner I’d imagined
a teapot
to whistle
my brother was cutting himself in the tub, gingerly, a test run…
-
the whistling scared the **** out of him, the bejesus
-
being made of nothing allowed brother
to volunteer
in New Orleans
after Katrina
he opened a few refrigerators
that’s all it took
-
without my brother, I’d be in his words
beside myself
some ****** eared stranger mucking up a white door
listening
as if to a radio
announcing the missing
blow up dolls
by name
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 4:00 PM UTC
Hard to swallow:
When they see you,
stretched languidly across the page,
frivolous in your expenditure of letters,
This is what you are to them.
Long and polysyllabic,
a frustrating combination of strange, small word-parts
And that Y (such an indecisive letter!):
flung in there so gracelessly.
You are repulsive to them;
You have broken their rhythm
of short, blocky words that trip off the tongue
with your sudden and awkward out-of-place-ness.
You are abhorrent to them;
You have blurred their strict margins
of male and female roles,
of pants and skirts,
with your little blip of existence,
mucking about in the wrong side of the clothes store.
You are an anomaly, a mistake, a mystery to them;
You are a *** to be located
A term to be defined
A word to be pronounced
A gender to be assigned
But I like you.
I like how your letters sprawl,
confident and self-sure.
I like how your attire causes others to gawk
and reorder their worlds.
I like how your legs look in that tux,
your eyes in that dress.
How the long swoops of your g and your y
echo the way the ends of your undone tie drape from your collar:
Elegantly.
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
Deep red runs from edge to infinity
down the water where you drowned,
confused by the dimness of the night
we’re frantic, ******* like rabbits.
Subsequently, we waited for that feeling to go.
Knowing this day will never begin
we charged in our ‘animal-like’ disarray
into the fog mucking the puddles,
breaking leaves and twigs -
A starless night for ghost stories.
**** ravenous and shamelessly concupiscent,
****** occur amidst the foreplay.
No one knew how many we were,
we didn’t care.
Against the trees, in the dirt,
staring at the sky or perched on a stone,
didn’t matter where and how it happened
as long as the moans echoed through the woods.
In memory of a fallen friend,
promiscuous and brutish, a ******
He will be missed as we *********
inside the women he once *****
That feeling has long gone.
We’re animals now, if only for one night.
Making each other squeal and throb.
In the presence of enemies we’re all friends,
in the death of a villain we’re debaucherous
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
i went to see the christmas lights yeah i did it wss fun
you see we were traveling around using our good eyes
we saw a few and i took a few photos after i had bolognaise and a beautiful cake
and i talked about the great poetry slanm a place to go to read poems
ya see, mate i thought the lights were fantastic, dude
we were sitting in the car getting photos of each’
we yelled out merry christmas to all the owners, cool man eat my shorts
it was radically awesome how each house had a lot of things in their display
i was talking about the movie deck the halls with danny devito and mathew broderick
both go for the right to be the streets christmas man
i am a bit of a christmas man, i love the idea of santa coming for the kids
dropping in through the computer, delivering presents as he he goes
i played santa at vinnies in belconnen and i enjoyed making the kids very happy
one kid said why do you want to play santa, i think playing santa gives me fulfilment
and we sing we wish you a merry christmas a full boar ripper christmas
we wish you a merry christmas
i have a big dose of schizophrenia, which makes me look tired
but, dude, it doesn’t really bother me, because i am healing, ya know getting better
and as i sit down anywhere, in cars and at hone, my mind has a tired look
sometimes it’s good to fight it, with the fact that you ain’t really tired
it’s just the high dose medication i am on
and as i travelled around the christmas lights
i was saying i wanna do more and i wanna see more, without looking at the time
because it was getting close to 10,00 and the others were tired
but me, i was happy to sit in the back looking at the lights till midnight
in the future i would love someone to take me out to civic on new years eve, that’ll be cool, man
and i think of bart simpson when i say, do the bartmab do the bartman
everyone back and forward from side to side
ya see, the medication makes me calm, making me think of how i was back in the 1970s
when i was mucking with my family in wood berry, and being told to shove my nose to the wood
but i loved stopping for an ice cream at hexham oak factory
and looking at the lights tonight, reminded me of when we walked down georgetown at their lights
ya see i was thinking, tonight, in the back seat, i am a happy dude, and the lights are making me a party dude
i wanna party all night long
it was a great christmas party, duds
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 6:52 AM UTC
We met at a coffee shop,
her name tag read Bernice.
Painted black hair, with devilish brown eyes.
She had a mesmerizing stare, which led me to believe, possibly speculate, she was rare. “I live upstairs” Bernice said with a ****** wink.
Her shift ended at 9, I was at the doorstep on time.
Cordially awaiting my appearance,
lit candles, no hearth, no fireplace.
Sweat dripping, mucking up hard wood floors,
A goat? Chained to the radiator sitting in the corner, loud as can be. It was a sacrifice of her virginity, the goat would watch.
I took it like it was candy, screams echoing throughout the night.
The sheets were white, now painted with blood. The goat, still kicking, making a ruckus.
I left the next morning, she gave me a quick tug. Scampering out the room, as naked as could be. A small mutter rang out,
“will you worship me?”
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 2:43 AM UTC
They say you got my gift to you
My apology for all the bitter days
of teary silence and rage.
Yes, I played it tricky & deep.
They knew too much
about too many private things.
Dream language is the tool of hypnosis
Creates a window into the dreamer
The front door with majestic scenes
of a lazy lioness and her pride,
At the foot of acanthus leaved columns,
That was built by my sister, the engineer.
She learned the language
From a pair of twins from some
small Texas germantown
Never told her, I built a back door,
To which I gave you the key.
They say he cut you cruelly-
To keep you from mucking up their profit,
To keep you from abandoning your race.
All for a few minutes of wisht?
Stole a few years of my dreams
scribed and kept set away for you.
I'm glad we found a better way.
If I wake to find it's just another dream,
I don't know what I'll do.
It's the wildness they hate in us.
They only thynk it's about race.
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 7:49 PM UTC
Who’d be an elf at Christmas?
To be forever loading a sleigh.
Then setting the satnavs to every house
To help Santa get on his way.
Who gets all of the fan mail?
He’s the only name the kids know.
It’s definitely no one but Santa;
That really does get on our roe!
He’s good at issuing orders
And he’s definitely good with a whip.
It’s the elves that do all the working
But only Santa goes on the work’s trip!
Every year we think we should tell him
That he really does get up our back.
So we all get very excited
When we get to give him the sack.
We’re forever mucking out reindeers
And polishing Rudolph’s red nose.
It’s amazing he keeps that colour
When everyone knows where it goes.
We are all very glad when it’s over;
‘Cause Boxing Day’s really the best.
It’s the only holiday he gives us,
We all have to work on the rest.
He really is a hard master;
Not to us the one that kids’ love.
Perhaps if they knew him like we do
They’d all want to give him the shove!
We could really manage without him.
The big old fat man dressed in red.
He wouldn’t be hard to take to
If he hadn’t got such a big head.
Sometimes he gets stuck in the chimney
And we have to go lever him out.
You’d think at least he would thank us
But he never does anything but shout.
We’ve been very tempted to leave him;
‘Cause he certainly gets on our nerves.
But we couldn’t let the kids down in that way
Although it is what he deserves.
So we remember the spirit of Christmas;
Everything that it means to you.
We bring out the Bells and the Walkers
And have our own National Elf’s Do!
Dec 23, 2009
Dec 23, 2009 at 8:37 AM UTC
dead dying uncles in icu rooms unstable
little weak men old dried up not dried out
you ask i tell, nothing to see here but ashes
time rots everything
so what tell me is the point
of pitiful, joyless struggles
all our own small motives laid bare
so crass and primal the animals we are
mucking about ******* in the mud
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 12:07 AM UTC
don’t be shy, mate, just party and be cool and don’t forget break no golden rule
don’t be shy to explain to your parents you like to party, despite them worrying
don’t be ashamed of the past mate, just party on till the day is long
don’t be shy if you ain’t strong, just enjoy life anyway,
don’t be shy if you ain’t mucking with your school friends no more, you should still be cool
look at me mate, i go to the poetry slam, i am having fun there, i am not shy
don’t be shy mate, if your mates taught you something that is daddyish take the i am not ya daddy like a man
don’t be shy mate, if people call you a woosey if you don’t like fighting, just ignore them
don’t be shy mate, if you have voices from your parents saying your still like us, remember
if you are doing what you like within reason, just have fun
don’t be shy mate, if you lost a relative and you hear them speaking from nirvana
don’t be shy, in everything you do
don’t be shy, mate, if you have problems talking you see, and people call you a woosey
just relax and take up writing for expression
don’t be shy mate, if people want to fight you, don’t be shy to back away, if you find that hard, just be cool
don’t be shy, to just relax, because remember you ain’t immortal and you ain’t perfect
so you give lousy advice and you give good advice, like in this little poem, i am not shy how it sounds
don’t be shy if you are battling voices, just use the negative voices to make a positive outlook
don’t be shy mate, if you felt like an animal, because you displayed no hunan qualities, you can still be human, ok don’t be shy
as long as you say, violence doesn’t solve anything don’t be shy to believe in that, ok
just be yourself like me, now, i ain’t living in the past, either should you, don’t be shy
if you want to be just like your daddy, NO, just be yourself because daddy’s give advice, they shouldn’t push you to be like them, ok
don’t be shy, be yourself
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 11:57 PM UTC
I hate being a hooligan
So ****** much
Don't treat me like a hooligan
Because really u find that hard
I don.'t want hooligans mucking
With me because they are losers
Ya see so won't ya leave me alone
Ya fucken hooligan
I am not a hooligan I am a writer
And artist and YouTube entertained
And in that I have a heap of fun
Please leave me alone ya fucken hooligan
I prefer to be around happy family chatter rather than being around
People who punch the seat if people
**** him off
You see I am not a hooligan cause I don't **** people off, I am reformed
From all that nonsense of the past
Please don't treat me like a hooligan
I am a family person
Always have been always will be
A family person everyone likes
Dad would say to Patrick
Look he's eating junk food treating me like a normal person
Sent from my iPhone
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 3:16 AM UTC
you are waiting
waiting
waiting
suited up in your spirit of self-loathing,
eating a full helping of anxiety every day for lunch
mucking your ears with the wax of negative self-voice
making it hard to hear the whisper in stillness
as for me, I will live
live
live
even on those days when you can’t come along
I won’t wait for spring and every dream I’ve ever had
to happen before my heart can be light
before I can sing and exude sunshine
and if my warmth can open your tightly
closed bud, I will shine until we bring forth color
this exact moment will never happen again
our closets could be filled with maps
books and autographed vinyls
but if you put a picture in a ziplock bag
remember
the life in that bag already ran out of air
whether waiting for tomorrow or wishing for to-day
the only heart that’s beating strong is right now
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:26 AM UTC
I have just uploaded my breakfast club shows and my topsy the clown breakfast club rave
and i also put on my rockabilly chart show for this week
i wish the workd would understand that i am a famous family person
i would much appreciate if you watch these shows
i know people watch me, and i am trying to be a household name even after death
the chart show, is a really entertaining show
i hate when everyone even my own family treat me like a hooligan
all because i teased dad, back in some third dimension
i will become famous, i will keep up the youtube shows
whether i get enough views or not, but if people took the time
to let me entertain, i don’t want any negative replies
and my nye show is popular, as long as a few others
but please take the time to watch my shows, ok dudes
i am not ******** no i am norm i am as normal, ok
i know the name of breakfast club sounds corny
but i want to show my family, i am not a hooligan
i am a cool family person
and whether dad didn’t wanna be cool or not
i want to be cool, ya see, people are being cruel
when they leave in my head, bullies get top class
sure i am disabled, but i am not ********
i am a nice person who loves life
PLEASE DON’T GET INTIMIDATED BY MY LARGE CAPS
i want to help the homeless, get better acquainted in this world
i don’t want this voice saying, i am not mucking with brian running in my head
i can entertain, just look at my most popular videos on youtube
and hello poetry us popular as well
i want people to like the shows i do, i don;t want to hear all the problem people of the world
who can’t understand i have got inspiration from other you tubers
let me inspire other youtuberrs
i am a family person, and not just to a tease either, i prefer to be a family person to muck around with
please, i am not a rich ***** so stop treating me like a **** and treat me like a person
ya see, some kids called me ******** cause they were scared of the CAPS
DON’T GET SCARED OF THE CAPS
i can handle myself on social media, i need mum to understand that, ok
i want to be a proper family person, who has fun
this weekend i am off to the national multi cultural festival to get more videos for aaa youtube TV, ok
the only wannabe i am is a wanna be FAMOUS, ok dudes
DON’T GET INTIMIDATED BY THE CAPS, OK
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 6:14 PM UTC
hi dudes
there is a big snowstorm in australia, and even if queensland, and kids
missed school to play in the snow, i even saw a man chuck a big snowball
at his son, i am going to throw a snowball at you, and i am mucking with the
australians, because everyone is playing in the snow together, a snowstorm
created by my dad, who is now betty campbell, so robin williams next life
can be in a country with plenty of snow, you see snow is awesome, dude
more awesome than just ya know rain, because, just think about it, the snow
is making waves in queensland, and **** fanning, the surfer got attacked by a shark,
and he won and i am mucking with all the cool young dudes, who are playing in the snow
the snow is a falling, a falling a falling the snow is a falling in queensland oh yeah
come on happy dudes, show these real angry dudes, the right way to party, oh yeseree
the snow is icy cold icy cold icy cold
i am not a negative **** i am positive today
i feel i am getting my way, into becoming cool don’t ya say
the past is trying to catch up with me, like a crazy person does
greame thorne is my last life and is keeping the guy who nicked my lunch in my head, in a negative way
so i can understand that kidnapping is wrong, i say i am greame thorne, the coolest kid in the 50s yeah
dad is trying to be nice to me, saying your like him and mummy, because he is saying your still a family person brian
and everyone says i am not a cool kid, i know, i am a nice adult who does my art in a positive way
you see patrick dunbar who is my previous life before greame thorne is trying to get me to do what i used to do
because to the world i look like a negative **** but i fooled them, i am positive
when someone yells at me, i go, i am a happy dude, you are an angry dude
you see my dad is screaming from the afterlife saying, be like me and patrick brian
but that is because he is in a family of cool now, and he doesn’t wanna be cool, i do
but i am cool anyway, you see they are cooking organic food in terragon
cause jimmy barnes picked up my father’s next life and said, i love you, my dear little granddaughter
you see you are no longer apart of the allan clan, we will protect you from your teasing
so betty campbell, that is your name now, dad, barry allan is now dead
sing a song of sixpence sing a song of being positive, like your old son brian is trying to be
i know he sounds so negative, but brian allan is positive, as he lifts his fist up
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
A blue
a blue
from under the brown
behind the square and
between the circles
Few and singular,
the blue takes a step
to the left and the South
Bereaved, the blue sits
believing
It is good at hockey
Faithfully skating,
mucking and making
musical messes
Its banjo twang and
its choir sang,
and the color red had yet to call it
Pity the blue
for it is truly
in trouble
Its flips don't flop
its whizz's don't fizz
Its preposterously powerful past pastor has purportedly put a price on its puny posterior
Poor piddly pathetic blue
But of course,
blues do not have butts
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 11:49 PM UTC