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Brent Kincaid May 2018
Gooder and Badder
Bedder and fadder
What are Americans saying?
Boddle of wadder
Mudder and fodder
What is this game we are playing?

Funner and betterer,
Pitcher and ledder
They expect folks to unnerstan
Gimmes and wannabes
Mundees though Sundees
A hunnert and ten grand.

Gooder and Badder
Bedder and fadder
What are Americans saying?

Reedikullis and eeleegull
Furrin kinds of peepul
Should learn American English
Even when it’s ignernt,
And sounds  a bit differnt,
A definite ***** to distinguish.

Boddle of wadder
Mudder and fodder
What is this game we are playing?

Inneresting innerlopers
Drunky ***** goat ropers
That’s what they think strangers are.
Our dippy high schoo dropouts
Don’t care what education’s about
And only care about today’s sports stars.

Gooder and Badder
Bedder and fadder
What are Americans saying?
Boddle of wadder
Mudder and fodder
What is this game we are playing?
1 Way down upon de Swanee ribber,
2 Far, far away,
3 Dere's wha my heart is turning ebber,
4 Dere's wha de old folks stay.
5 All up and down de whole creation,
6 Sadly I roam,
7 Still longing for de old plantation,
8 And for de old folks at home.

9 [Chorus] All de world am sad and dreary,
10 Ebry where I roam,
11 Oh! darkeys how my heart grows weary,
12 Far from de old folks at home.

13 [Solo] All round de little farm I wandered
14 When I was young,
15 Den many happy days I squandered,
16 Many de songs I sung.
17 When I was playing wid my brudder
18 Happy was I --.
19 Oh! take me to my kind old mudder,
20 Dere let me live and die.

21 [Chorus] All de world am sad and dreary,
22 Ebry where I roam,
23 Oh! darkeys how my heart grows weary,
24 Far from de old folks at home.

25 One little hut among de bushes,
26 One dat I love,
27 Still sadly to my mem'ry rushes,
28 No matter where I rove
29 When will I see de bees a humming
30 All round de comb?
31 When will I hear de banjo tumming
32 Down in my good old home?

33 [Chorus] All de world am sad and dreary,
34 Ebry where I roam,
35 Oh! darkeys how my heart grows weary,
36 Far from de old folks at home
searching Jan 2013
I'm wallowing again.
stuck in another rut
like a mudder who took
one too many chances.

!I couldnt possibly pull myself out of that!"
the mudder yells,
but  you gently remind him
that he's full of ****.

You take a step back.

Breathe.
One.
Two.
Three.

Hello, nice to see you again.
For a moment
I was lost.
Michael Kusi Nov 2017
Normally after Thanksgiving I just rewatch the parade.
And try to talk my family into playing Christmas charades.
But I wanted to do some early holiday shopping.
And I decided to go do Black Friday and see what was popping.
My nephew said that he wanted the new video game.
I know it was of national fame but I forgot its name.
I said, Don’t worry I got you my nephew.
I will make sure to get a gift that would bless you.

I went to the Walmart and went to stand in line.
But I put on a hoodie because I was ashamed of the time.
Because it was the time of day where I would not be awake.
But I was here to buy presents and not tosteal- take.
So I said that Black Friday would not get the best of me.
And I hoped someone would not see  and think less of me.
Because I would often look at Black Friday on TV and laugh.
Karma must of thought this was extra revenge for me to take this path.

The doors opened, and the rush was like a Mudder race.
And you should have seen the look all up in this brother’s face.
It was a mixture of glee, humor, and I was so terrified.
I was so happy that I made it in one piece here inside.
Mothers were fighting over teddies, but I went for the bigger trophy.
If they didn’t think I would fight for this game, they didn’t know me.
I finally reached the game, but someone snatched it before I could!
She didn’t  look like she played  or had kids who did in the neighborhood.
So it wasn’t even the excuse of I play this game because I have no knees.
I thought I could ask please could I get the game for nephew who has the  diseases.

She put it in her cart, and this action really hurt my heart.
I wanted to get another game, but that would not be smart.
Because if my nephew didn’t like the game, I would be stuck.
But then something happened that told me I have good luck.
The game fell out of her cart and went to the floor too.
I looked around to make sure no one would judge me for what I would do.
I picked it up, because five-second rules did not apply to games.
I paid for it with money, and I left without any shame.

I knew it looked bad, but Black Friday takes away the soul.
I gave it to my cousin, and he said, Did you also get the controls?
I must of forgot in the rush, but I could order it online.
Because I’m sure if I get it in the store, someone would take what was mine.
So I had to return it, because it was also the wrong gaming system.
I vowed never to do Black Friday again, that’s not the lifestyle I’m trying to live in.
Criss Jami May 2014
Right now, my cranium is spacing out
My brain is racing up and down and
I'm left pacing like I saw an alien in a nightgown
Man I can't really write right rite right now so
I'm hoping this'll flow
Maybe later still able to kiss and ***** the flames at the tip of a missile toe
And Ms., miss it won't if you don't spit it slow
Oh you know
This is so that it'll go and blow
Grow, explode the mind
And then it glows
For sure, no lie

I'm a show-off to get the mind out the gutter
Up and out, now it's not about some snuffing out or really a ruffling bluff-like fisticuffs to handcuffs riff-raff fluff about my rugged Scruff McGruff tuff scuffed-up stuff with a huff and puffed-up "ruff! ruff!" buff enough rough and tough mudder style but
Somewhat it's done out of love for even the loudest mouth out there somewhere, somehow

So someday in someway to someplace
I'll send your message in my package and pass it
Over and out
Ground control and the days are long so
I have the gift just to give the shout-outs
Yeah before it's gone, oh
Over and out

He might be a writer and he can't even hide it be-
Cause communication's the communion, union of the unified nations
Relationships and maybe even sensationalism
But hatred rests in a safe the dangerous once made
While a good intention not to mention is
A common premise in this mix we try to fix
And then we pray
But in games we trust because
We think it's made for us for fun and
And what we crave, nuh-uh yuh-huh
Uh-uh, uh-huh

So sometime for somebody, somewhen for someone or something
I'm sending my message, my package I'm passing it
Over and out
Ground control and the days are long
So I have a gift, oh to give my shout-outs yeah before they're gone
Over and out

Now let us get some shut-eye so
This introvert can shut-up, oh
Over and out
Who wrote it right on time about how

Somedeal and somewise it's this diss-functional brain of mine
My pen's pensive motor-mouth is left rightly in its creative state of sane now I'm
In between and staying safely stable
Without withering within her ring somewhither with his SAM-wise fable
And that my baby is what I call in-sane
Able to lay it on our table when
We're stripped bare to the underwear with
Our ways and our whereabouts on paper, amen
From an omen of ol' men
Over and out, send
Buster ******* was his name
and poetry was his game
he would swagger into town like he was it
the mudder feeking sun of a *****

He could dance a good jig
for he did not play a lot you see
when the bullets came in flying
he would love to dance with them

Buster could be really kind
he loved life and it's wonders
he was one of a no teller
was Buster *******, that feller


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

By NeonSolaris

© 2013 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Keith Ren Feb 2012
with gratitude shallow
and three legged horse,
the broken is lucky and kin,

with meat more than sallow
and set offling's course,
the track's making room for some sin,

I'm stuck in the knowing,
the gravemarker's mill,
at best, a false uppity-chin,

a groove for the mudder,
and Degas for the paint,
a noose off the jump

for the win.
Hazel Jan 2018
Det sitre i kroppen
Som utålmodigheden
Det spænder i hver en nerve
Ligsom stramme snørebånd.

Jeg får nu kvalme ved hver en tanke der strejfer mig, og kaster realitytjek(s) ind i fjæset på mig. For jeg har jo aldrig forstået, før efter tiende gang, tyvende gang, for jeg forstår jo aldrig hvorfor?

Stikker, graver, kaster mudder fraser i hovedet på hver en idiot, der snakker om følelser for et andet menneske. For jeg tror ligeså lidt på “kærligheden”, som djævlen og hans tro på uskyld.

Som tålmodigheden
Sitre det i kroppen
Ligsom stramme snørebånd
Spænder det i hver en nerve.
-Hazel
hvorfor sove når man kan lave skolearbejde???!??

    lad os blot synke i dette mudder af ligegyldighed og

                                         falde ind i vanernes vold,


kan man undslippe? kan man forsvinde fra Det Skemalagte Liv?


       et klip-selv-ud liv, masseproduceret lige præcis til dig og dine behov
                            skal vi ikke sige det i hvert fald. det er    n e m t


            nemt      
                            konformt, kedeligt, gråt
at ligge fuldt påklædt på sengen, ingen
bekymringer om skoenes mudder
med en masende humørsvingningstrykbølge i brystet, pressende på ribbenet
som et lille, tungt mørkelilla prikket væsen, der forsøger at æde sig ud af mit kadaver
der i øvrigt er forslået fra at gå ind i tørrestativet klokken to om natten i et
vand-drikningsprojekt
klædt i nattens sorte, sorte jakkesæt, som mændende og mågerne og tankerne og alt i mørket er
yet, in spite of Clint Howard's banana-stealing bend, Ben loved him
like ****-deficit babe Barbie Roberts loved no-ball-&-**** doll Ken
in his humpless, stumpless, ****-strapless, crapped-out-big-bear den
where he confused suddenness for quickness frequently if not often
as he spun suddenly & quickly & frequently again in his pine coffin
that he had filled with wild kangaroo anuses from Australia to quell
& to soften his pine box bed for the rotten dead ***** he'd be boffin'
& to soften the casket for Botox-swollen hoes whom he'd be boffin'
& to soften his pine bed for crapped-out ****** who wanted boffin'
Judgement day's soon from Koestler's Darkness at Noon pairin' Pat
Boone & junior loon goon, martyr Martin Luther King as that ****
who Niven hadn't hunted in a racoon hunt in The Moon's a Balloon
in which no hog-slop cop bought at a profitable loss a fiery bassoon
played by a musically-deft & sexily-thrilling, heart-donating baboon
that sings old-world chimp songs that Sinatra could warble & croon
to Reeve's Eastern Express, jumpin' badly to 1 magickal faerie tune
After harvesting a crop of bee drops I stop to deposit top money for
fake honey on Lake Sunny as sheep hop over a chop steak of bunny
Once filthy rednecks become your next-door neighbors, through the
course of their daily redneck labors, you will be startled by periodic
explosions, shotgun blasts, back fires, dope raids & Samurai sabers
& blue-hued babies of infantile ages in post-born stages confined to
****** chimpanzee zoo cages like Tibetan sages given to outrageous
whinin' outrages, browner than what a buck-deer-pelt-shade beige is
Don't you remember that when we were in love with pink hog meat
we'd sit on torn seats at Burger King to chew dill pickled pigs' feet?
I don't care about your various burial plots & factor K, your antique
drugs from F.D.A., or why my ******* curl up on a wintry day
I don't care about your various blood clots & factor K, your antique  
stock from T.W.A., the way your ******* curl on a sunless day
I care a lot about these hairy mud smocks & vitamin K, old, ancient
bonds from N.B.A. + why beef **** curtains rarely wilt on Sunday
or promoting P.G.A.'s role in making **** drapes droop on Monday
after Mecca town's Eddie Mekka sought Shirley, sold & bought her
in the eternal holy city of righteous step-daughter ******, slaughter
as it slept beneath Laverne's saucy danglers where Eddie caught her
on the 3rd match that fused **** Cheney's N.A.T.O. cannon fodder
before Reeve took a head-first decapitation off a mudder or a trotter
or a fishnet stocking, a can of Crisco, a purse or a scrumptious otter
that totters where Caylee Anthony should never be allowed to totter
whilst Casey Anthony maintains the rotted, purple corpse is not her
as the toddler died of misadventure, meanin' mother hadn't shot her
Ryan O'Leary Feb 2019
Mudder fcukers
the lot of them.

The earth is being
penalised.

Refuse has two
meanings.

Not willing to do
anything. (l)

[*******] those who
try to do something. (2)

— The End —