"official" poems
We never took pictures together
because you don't like how big your eyes are
I would drown in them for you
but you would be too busy
watching the sunrise to notice.
You have glasses because you're blind
But they aren't the right prescription
because you still don't see your beauty.
I remember the night you had me drive
two hours away from the city lights
just so you could point out
all the constellations you memorized
when you were younger.
I let you go on and on about stars,
waiting for you to mention the way
you outshine all of them
But you kissed me instead
and I think that was even better.
Even when Summer faded out,
you would always smell like sunshine.
I wanted to live forever in the daydream
of you and me walking along the shoreline.
Your laughter was synonymous
with sunflowers
and how everytime you caught sight of them
you couldn't stop yourself from smiling.
But that should have been my warning sign
because Russia's official flower is the Sunflower
and ever since you left
I've traded water for *****
and this winter has been unusually rainy
but it's still too bright for me to go outside.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
it’s official—
i hate being alone.
this isn’t a poem
but
it’s words
i needed to say
Jun 20, 2019
Jun 20, 2019 at 3:56 PM UTC
You made my dad a grand father
But he doesn't mind
You've been the son at the back of his mind
You made my ma a grandma
And made her heart glow
Funny she's never loved something that made her feel old
You made my malla and me uncles
It feels kind of cool
To think now after being spoiled we'll be spoiling you.
You made Akki a mom
Or you made it official
I don't think she's been anything less than maternal.
You've made James a dad
And a fine one at that
Time will prove that i'm right and of that I'm glad.
Welcome to the family!
We were born into it too
It's wierd at first but it grows on you.
And we will do our best
To make you feel one
Friend and a loved nephew son and grandson.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 6:41 AM UTC
You want me to wear
logos in my hair
and purchase
the matching scarf?
A billboard for sale
at the human scale
Sporting your brand
Oh, what a larf!
Go Team Go!
Print on a throw
For the low price
of fifty-four dollars
I'd rather be happy
not buying your sappy
stuff that you sport
on your collars
you tell me to buy
because i'll look fly
and fill up my closet
with swagger
Believe when I say
not one single day
I'll fall to the dance
of your dagger!
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 4:47 PM UTC
[Official Part-1]
this world can be dangerous
bleak, wild and careless
you're living without knowing
how many days you'll ride
every day you face with
the problems you think
they are bigger than 'you'
but they are smaller than
the whole universe
mini world, bright sky
time is gold; it will fly
no one is getting it
no one is feeling it
what's in your veins
what lead you to the chains
seem every little is in a mess
like every human is in stress
walking on the sharpest bridge
thinking I'm ready to stop
maybe I can lay here and flop
on to the cold concrete ground
am I ready to beat this round,
what's next or what's behind
how hard it is to feel kind
when it's all making you blind
and here's where you can
show your difference
by being kind
noise trauma, unnecessary drama
everyone wants to be an alpha
race of fame and goals to gain
end of nature and crazy bane
after this, I'll never be the same
relationships have a journey
which starts, goes and ends
I found One has no 'end'
GOD IS MY BEST FRIEND.
☾ M. E. Kuşaslan ✩
@lightinthedarknesspoetry
Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 4:46 PM UTC
We'd bound around
For golf downtown
Frisbees always in hand
"The students are coming!!”
Was a seasonal refrain
As we’d goofily gallivant
Mother’s Day shows
We‘re free, mother-suckers
For your kids, a show we grant
A CLOWN SHOW!
A DOWNTOWN SHOW!
THERE IS NOTHING WE CAN’T!
Rock their world with juggling
See the Doctor for what ails
Rudi and O in laundromat land
Jeanie, Splash, Allison, Donna,
Silly girls astonishing with
Leaps, jokes and handstands
Chewey, Steamboat and Grog
"Yeah-yeah! Yeah-yeah!”
Silly boys grandstanding
All hail Papa Gale! We
Funned with Cpt. Plunge
Leader of the band!
Sweet Georgia!
**** croquet!*
It was grand!
**** croquet was the official lawn game of the Sweet Georgia Brown Clowns during the summer 198x Trinity Country tour [wherein we masqueraded as a Norwegian Salmon Kissing team at a Moose Lodge Talent Show in Lewiston, CA* {true!}]: “Don’t forget your hat!”)
*(we won)
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
While I don't suffer, or suffer from
Normal, eurocentrism, northern malaise,
Nor, academia, a blood disease,
I do mind manners in which doings
And not doings are done or aren't,
As it brings life and light to them,
Or it doesn't, for those most attached
To living or dying are most closely death.
This while acid rain from your closed eye
And an acre of rainforest falls each second.
Thus Earth's tears bleed for all you see is gray.
As machinations of travailing winds,
Miraging, veil, mirror narcissistic nihlistic
False-ego as self, do "..we(e),.." evince to be?
A republican chides, "put another poet
On the barbie", his idea of conservation.
Prump has had his exec. branch criminally:
Edit the official video and script of his
Helsinki news conference where tutin was asked,
"Did you help prump become president and did you
Have your gov't do the same", with tutin's answers,
"Yes I did, yes, I did..." + premeditatedly separate
Latino families at the border to torture them,
Dictate that "if they want to see their kids again
They have to sign away their rights and leave".
He just said, "don't believe what you hear, see",
Almost a quote from Orwell's '1984', in which
Is written, "this dictate of the gov't was most
Important of all, don't believe what your ears
Hear or your eyes see". Since altright universe
Invaders were installed in the Blackhouse we've
Known things will only get worse, what other
Reason could his "military parade in 11-18" be for
Except military rule, will the American daymare end?
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 7:13 AM UTC
Sag my corpse
in 32 degree weather
through the city of God
where paraplegics dream of running.
“Oh Rhodesian mercenary,”
humble my soul again
like in C(hi)(ca)ongo.
But remember
The revolution starts
on my mama’s bed
at half past six.
So excuse me while I smoke my drink like a Brooklyn Leftist from the 40’s tramples
burning cigarettes on cold pavements where codeine and Sprite
make any Tuesday fabulous because we already suffered from (and for) the goods of mankind.
But before you read me the history of Hatchepsut;
I learned the art of man within the confines of FCC regulations after my ‘Pa threw ******* out the window and made life in the cell not mundane by telephoning philosophical-entendres
that tomorrow never happened.
He too was from the blood of the ancestors whose bodies were charred on as goods—
whose children now char their bodies with the goods of the goddess of Victory—
the official trademark for the lost Exodus—the blood and blue moribund—
sagging pyrrhic victories in 32 degree weather as homage to their charred ghost (fore)fathers
who preyed to the city of God for bread
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 8:35 PM UTC
we're on a break,
meaning we catharsis ****
often in public places,
often with an edge of violence,
much like the session in the
family restroom, here at
Big Daddy's Bar-B-Que (travesty, travesty).
still waiting for Em to to finish "tidying up."
and the brisket is salty.
or it's the leftovers from her forehead.
she should have cut her fingernails.
thinking of a way to hide the blood trails
running wild on the back of my t-shirt.
catharsis, she says. it's healthy, she says.
Elvis croons over the arcane stereo system
and a white-haired woman with gelatinous
arms taps her fingers on the tabletop along
to "Teddy Bear."
the waitress keeps a hawk's eye on my
half-empty/half-full glass of water.
and I'm afraid to take a drink.
here comes Em. she's an athlete. and we're on a break,
meaning we don't see each other's parents.
don't nod and listen.
and don't say things like, "oh yeah, your sister Sarah. how's she?"
hallelujah, hallelujah. Em played point guard in high school.
her last official sporting endeavor. but twenty minutes ago
she told me to look up a complicated position
via iKamastutra on my phone
because she's an athlete, and I'd be "amazed at what
this
machine [her body]
can do."
but I hate when she says **** like that.
catering to an I'm-almost-certain-peg
of my fantasy. harder, harder
and before I finish, she insists on
swallowing
and
it makes me uncomfortable
but
we're on break, and to argue
would be a crucifixion to this "vacation."
I think about Elvis.
and wonder if any
woman is still alive that
swallowed his ***
and when it's down
to just one, does that mean
anything?
"well that was fun," Em says.
her mascara wasted.
the brisket is salty.
I take a generous drink of water.
I hear the sound of breaking glass.
the waitress has busted
a bottle of ketchup in her
rush to refill my 2/3rds empty cup.
"mazel tov," I say.
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 7:57 PM UTC
They live in huge houses, drive fancy cars
Most know poverty only secondhand
So how can they fix a problem... They don't really understand
Given the role of a leader
However, I'm convinced they are confused
We live in worlds too far apart...
How can they lead with similar views
Their children go to private schools
Only the finest and elite
Their children will never need public education
So they allow funding to deplete
Their children will succeed
I believe it's part of their plan
To ensure that high society
Will forever lead the average man
The evidence is no secret
They don't seem to care if we agree
They know they hold this power
So it doesn't matter if we see
Our taxes keep going up
Unemployment is at an all time high
Life keeps getting harder for those just scrapping by
The people making these decisions
Of course they find it easy enough to do
They're not deciding for themselves
They decide for me and you
The truth of the matter is...
This country is ruled by hypocrisy
They disguise this, however, very cleverly
Today it's what we know as Democracy
"A political government run by 'The People' through 'Selected' officials"... Democracy defined
Compare it to the way it was truly designed
Sure we get to 'select the official'
But the one thing they seem to neglect
They pick the people
Many, that corruptive politics help select
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 5:11 PM UTC
Author: Kristen Stevens
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Current mood:outside the loop
And yes I know that's a plagiarization (real word??? no matter) of a stupid show...but you shouldn't watch it anyway so there.
ME! Last week, as you may have heard was not of the fun, so this week in comparison rocked! And, yes, I am going to end every sentence with exclamations! (it's for the sarcastic effect don't panic) As such I’m going to let YOU write my entry…you’ll see.
Once upon a time there was a ______ (adj.) girl. She loved her xbox very much. One day an evil ________(noun) descended on the precious object and smote it with the fury of _______(name of a god). The girl ___________(verb) for many minutes staring at the remains of her once beloved box. She promptly went to the other, less amusing, magic box and asked for _______(noun). She____________(adv.) navigated her way through treacherous and distracting destinations. As she approached the official site, a most ___________(adj.) thing occurred. The destination was ________(noun). Much like the construction in her hamlet, it prevented her from registering her distress. Days _______(noun) slowly, with still no relief for ________(pronoun). What’s a girl to do when ________(frustrating situation)? In her profession the customers would not appreciate it if she came after them with___________(weapon of choice from popular video game).
It had been one week, since the demise of _______(object). She no longer was _______(emotion). The days were literally ________(color). Rain fell _______(verb ending in –ing) the streets. There was still no reply from the xbox deity. Thus ends the tale of piteous woe.
This girl has been considering swearing fealty to another more worthy gaming god! There are three systems and I own two of them! Don’t make me get the third! This is a threat! (not you guys, the __________{insert favorite utterance} at Microsoft) goes away quietly muttering to self unkind and unpleasant things that should be done to xbox distributors
By the way, how was that I figure, if you’re going to take the time to read it. I should give you something fun to do at the same time. Who doesn’t like madlibs? Huh?
Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 8:23 AM UTC
I met you over Facebook...
You were a stranger to me,
I knew not you,
or your personality.
You were a random, I found you on Facebook.
I said, ''Hi, I know you don't know me and that this is probably weird, but, hi''.
You were cute.
I didn't think it would hurt to add you and maybe talk to you a little.
About a month after I had sent that message I found out I was
switching schools...
Little did I know you went to that school.
We started talking a lot more,
we became good friends.
...I had a crush on you...
I met you about a little while after, you were so cute.
I walked in the door and you just stared at me.
I was frozen.
I was new, I didn't know what to do.
I sat in the back of the room, I kept to myself and was very quiet.
Little ol' you wouldn't let that happen.
You were nice, you talked to me, your friend on the other hand... That little creepy ******* just stared at me.
You and I started talking but so did your friend and I.
I had you and him both wrapped around my little pinky.
An accomplishment any girl in that class would love to have achieved.
Well, I dated him.
I dated my crushes best friend.
The creepy little **** who would stare at me for hours on end.
After no more than a month, he dumped me.
My feeling for Billy, my previous crush started to stir.
Why?
We became great friends.
Best friends.
I was really sad when I found out you were dating my best friend.
You guys had been dating ever since I had gotten there and I now just found out.
Boy don't I feel dumb.
That relationship you two had was cute...
But, it was short lived.
You told me you liked me...
I was shocked,
happy,
astonished,
and then again disappointed.
I told myself to wait,
told myself, ''Oh. He'll come around,''
It never happened.
I fell in love with you.
You invited me over, so I went.
We had fun.
We watched movies...
We played footsies?
Yeah, it happened.
The next Friday after that we hung out and you tutored me...
Wasn't exactly tutoring...
More like a kissing class.
Oh well, I didn't care...
At the moment.
We we're caught up in the moment, and I head you whisper something in my ear.
''Let's make it official,''
I said, ''Let's do it''
You picked me up and carried me into the bedroom,
laid me down on the bed, and passionately kissed me on the lips.
I kissed you back, life was getting better already.
March 22nd, 2012.
It's our anniversary, also my Dad's birthday.
That day leads us to where we are today.
Still together,
still in love,
reaching for our forever.
I never knew that a random guy I added on Facebook would end up meaning so much to me.
I never dreamed I would find someone I love this much.
I could never ask for more.
Now every chance my Dad get he sais, ''You and him are the best birthday present I had ever gotten!''
I wish he was still here today to say that, he left about two months into our relationship.
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 6:18 AM UTC
This is the core of industries
It's crazy oh you see assemblies before ores fall in the streets but
It's all for you and me
A steampunk nation
Baby pollution rises up then the loving comes arraigning 'cause
Our art's official and only partially artificial
And our heart's in the middle of sharp hardened shards of metal but
There's not where it settles
Because it's beating to the steaming of God's hottest *** or kettle
And now we face it, this creation we made to
To save our craving for a synthetic rebelnation it's
Our safeway they make into a pathetic revelation
In our steampunk nation
Our steampunk nation
It's places having creation
But with black metal makings
And wordsmith's an occupation like phrase on paper's the way we say she's
Making our hearts start raving and baby maybe even raging for
For beaming metals and
Yeah steaming kettles, Meccas of our cyberstation Hades
And now we face it, this creation we made to
To save our craving for a synthetic rebelnation it's
Our safeway they make into a pathetic revelation
In our steampunk nation
Our steampunk nation
Oh how do we face it, this creation we made to
To save our craving for a synthetic rebelnation it's
Our safeway they make into a pathetic revelation
In a steampunk nation
A steampunk nation
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 8:16 PM UTC
New Year's Eve party.
With the popular kids.
That you don't know well.
But your boyfriend's going,
and you need to go too.
(for a New Year's kiss,
of course.)
Your favorite pair of jeans
because they are easy to dance in.
Your best floral tank top
because it's brand new
(and it's cold out, so you can
have an excuse to wear his jacket.)
Coral blush
because it looks good with
your skintone.
Purple eyeliner
because it makes your eyes pop.
And french manicure,
(your very first one!)
Done by your older sister,
aided with scotch tape
for the tips.
(It makes your hands look pretty,
and official,
like your best friends mom.)
Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 9:17 PM UTC
(for Cyril Connolly)
The piers are pummelled by the waves;
In a lonely field the rain
Lashes an abandoned train;
Outlaws fill the mountain caves.
Fantastic grow the evening gowns;
Agents of the Fisc pursue
Absconding tax-defaulters through
The sewers of provincial towns.
Private rites of magic send
The temple prostitutes to sleep;
All the literati keep
An imaginary friend.
Cerebrotonic Cato may
Extol the Ancient Disciplines,
But the muscle-bound Marines
Mutiny for food and pay.
Caesar's double-bed is warm
As an unimportant clerk
Writes I DO NOT LIKE MY WORK
On a pink official form.
Unendowed with wealth or pity,
Little birds with scarlet legs,
Sitting on their speckled eggs,
Eye each flu-infected city.
Altogether elsewhere, vast
Herds of reindeer move across
Miles and miles of golden moss,
Silently and very fast.
4.8k
The inadequate bookshelf that sat near the door
that my sister used to call her own was
mostly made up of adolescent reads,
books better suited for preteen girls rather than
intellectually budding young ladies—
juvenile vocabularies and simple, non-complex
plot lines do little to craft and create
worldly, knowledgeable women.
I thought I must spring clean the
naiveté away and replace it with
the works of great authors like
Sylvia Plath
Simone de Beauvoir
Virginia Woolf
Margaret Atwood
Betty Friedan;
ingenious femme fatales that cut down
to the brittled bones of the misogynists
and burned their marrow along with the
ashes of bras and aprons and 350 degree oven heat.
Growing up, to me, seemed like a wonderful epiphany
chock-full of ideas and opinions and
clever, ironic remarks that chased satirical witticisms
like felines to rodents and wolves to deer—
being an adult would guarantee me a say,
a vote
prior 1920’s America
play dress up as a suffragette
women’s rights
femininity personified by dolls in plastic houses.
To be eighteen-years-old,
the goal, the legality, the bright light at the end of the tunnel;
the official womanhood it would bestow upon me
seemed like something almost tangible
with the way that it loomed over my head.
Get good marks
graduate high school
travel back in time sixty years
meet a nice boy
become a “good wife”
have dinner ready by five
bear two beautiful heirs
clean up the messes left in the kitchen
fast-forward to the twenty-first century
go to a good college
find a stable career
settle down if the fancy strikes you
live non-docile and full of passion—
the parallelism of times are severely
di
lap
i
dat
ed.
1950’s America would never be a home for me
because I am much too wild to be contained.
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 12:12 AM UTC
You whom I could not save
Listen to me.
Try to understand this simple speech as I would be ashamed of another.
I swear, there is in me no wizardry of words.
I speak to you with silence like a cloud or a tree.
What strengthened me, for you was lethal.
You mixed up farewell to an epoch with the beginning of a new one,
Inspiration of hatred with lyrical beauty,
Blind force with accomplished shape.
Here is the valley of shallow Polish rivers. And an immense bridge
Going into white fog. Here is a broken city,
And the wind throws the screams of gulls on your grave
When I am talking with you.
What is poetry which does not save
Nations or people?
A connivance with official lies,
A song of drunkards whose throats will be cut in a moment,
Readings for sophomore girls.
That I wanted good poetry without knowing it,
That I discovered, late, its salutary aim,
In this and only this I find salvation.
They used to pour millet on graves or poppy seeds
To feed the dead who would come disguised as birds.
I put this book here for you, who once lived
So that you should visit us no more.
4.6k
I
This is the night mail crossing the Border,
Bringing the cheque and the postal order,
Letters for the rich, letters for the poor,
The shop at the corner, the girl next door.
Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb:
The gradient's against her, but she's on time.
Past cotton-grass and moorland boulder
Shovelling white steam over her shoulder,
Snorting noisily as she passes
Silent miles of wind-bent grasses.
Birds turn their heads as she approaches,
Stare from bushes at her blank-faced coaches.
Sheep-dogs cannot turn her course;
They slumber on with paws across.
In the farm she passes no one wakes,
But a jug in a bedroom gently shakes.
II
Dawn freshens, Her climb is done.
Down towards Glasgow she descends,
Towards the steam tugs yelping down a glade of cranes
Towards the fields of apparatus, the furnaces
Set on the dark plain like gigantic chessmen.
All Scotland waits for her:
In dark glens, beside pale-green lochs
Men long for news.
III
Letters of thanks, letters from banks,
Letters of joy from girl and boy,
Receipted bills and invitations
To inspect new stock or to visit relations,
And applications for situations,
And timid lovers' declarations,
And gossip, gossip from all the nations,
News circumstantial, news financial,
Letters with holiday snaps to enlarge in,
Letters with faces scrawled on the margin,
Letters from uncles, cousins, and aunts,
Letters to Scotland from the South of France,
Letters of condolence to Highlands and Lowlands
Written on paper of every hue,
The pink, the violet, the white and the blue,
The chatty, the catty, the boring, the adoring,
The cold and official and the heart's outpouring,
Clever, stupid, short and long,
The typed and the printed and the spelt all wrong.
IV
Thousands are still asleep,
Dreaming of terrifying monsters
Or of friendly tea beside the band in Cranston's or Crawford's:
Asleep in working Glasgow, asleep in well-set Edinburgh,
Asleep in granite Aberdeen,
They continue their dreams,
But shall wake soon and hope for letters,
And none will hear the postman's knock
Without a quickening of the heart,
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
4.7k
Hormones raging...for what I'm told not to engage in, even if we're engaged, if it's not official than its still revealed as...fornication. There's a disturbing underestimation of the result given for this particular sinful demonstration, society has taught us that we test the car before we drive it, but the 1st issue with this analogy told is that we're comparing human sin to...driving a vehicle? But if we're going to establish analogies on this subject , then, well, why don’t we also consider these: do we begin eating Thanksgiving dinner before were done saying grace? Do they hand out diplomas and degrees for classes you haven't passed yet? Do they give Super Bowl trophies to teams expected to win? So how do we justify receiving the prize of an unmet process? Far too many have allowed marriage to become an afterthought or not even a passing idea our better judgment caught because man had rather receive a temporary pleasure that sin conceives birthed in disobedience, deceptive grip around your conscience until your choked by the demands of a lustful flesh that wants to be fed in continual expedience. Or...Maybe, I’m just being a hater, fighting not to be twistedly envious and curious of a world that I’m forbidden to embrace. Or Maybe I’m fighting...the temptation and frustration of being a single man patiently searching for that good thing and the favor my Father blesses along with her. Maybe I’m fighting...not to nosedive into the bottomless trap laid for human souls, lured in by lack, of self-control. It troubles me in just how simple... he brags and boasts then plots and plans his next victim in the desecration of his and her Creator’s Temple. But It’s not all his fault, because it was up to her to give him the key to this priceless location better known as her body.
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 12:59 PM UTC
Not only am I drowning
but so many are going down
along with me--
our hopes, our dreams, our ideals
are being swept out to sea
the man who claims victory
is more than just a man
he embodies evil and greed
like no other in this land--
he cares nothing for AMERICA
unless it brings profit his way
and he will stop at nothing
to rule forever and a day...
So don't bother to save me
as I am falling beneath the sea,
I cannot tread water
for he is determined to drown me
and so many others
who only want what's best
for our beloved U.S.A.
and oh my god
this test
is far too much
and I kneel down and pray
and ask the gods above
to watch over the entire globe
for beware, I see it coming
this man in charge
has not much of a frontal lobe
and we are doomed
not just as a united country
but as a human kind
for we've elected an official
who has literally lost his mind...
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 7:16 PM UTC
A DEATH CREATES A DECEMBER/OCTOBER TWIN BIRTH WITH RAY POCOCK’S LIFE FOLLOWING HIS TRAGIC NEXT LIFE’S DEATH
YOU SEE ROBERT KINOSHITA, TURNS 100, AND GOES UP TO SATURN TO
DO A FEW ROBOT DANCES, AND INVENTS THIS LITTLE SONG
I AM THE GREATEST, I MADE A FAMOUS ROBOT
IT WAS IN A GREAT GREAT SHOW TITLED LOST IN SPACE
I WANTED TO LIVE FOREVER, BUT I EVENTUALLY KICKED THE BUCKET
BUT I LIVED TO BE 100, TO SAY I DID THE ROBOT DANCE
I DID THE ROBOT DANCE, SAYING
I AM A ROBOT, I AM A ROBOT, MY WAY IS COMING TRUE THROUGHOUT THE LAND
I AM A ROBOT EVERY SINGLE DAY
I CREATED ROBOT B-9, HE WAS FAMOUS FOR SAYING
DANGER WILL ROBINSON DANGER WILL ROBINSON DANGER WILL ROBINSON
AND THEN SAID, I AM A ROBOT, I AM A ROBOT,
I AM COMING TO EXTERMINATE YOU, I AM A ROBOT FOREVER AND EVER
AND THEN AS I GET OFF STAGE I TIP A KEG OF METHANE ALL OVER RAY POCOCK
TO SAY, LET’S MAKE TWINS IN OCTOBER, WELL LET’S MAKE THEM DUE IN OCTOBER ANYWAY
AND ROBERT AND RAY SAID WE ARE PERFECT ROBOTS
WE WILL CREATE NEW LIFE, IN OCTOBER, OH YEAH
RAY HAS NO IDEA, EITHER HAS ROBERT, BUT THEY BOTH SAID WE ARE ROBOTS
AND DANGER, IF WE LET THE TERRORISTS WIN
WE ARE CRONUS’S, EMBASSADORS, I AM CRONUS
I AM THE ONE IN THE FAMILY, WHO LIKES IMAGINATIVE ROBOTS
AND WE DANCE, WE ARE BIG ROBOTS, WE ARE BIG ROBOTS
WE HAVE COME TO ESTERMINATE YOU GUYS IF YA COME TO CLOSE
DANGER WILL ROBINSON, DANGER WILL ROBINSON
THERE WILL BE DANGER IF ROBERT AND RAY SEPERATE, CAUSE
THEY ARE JOINED TO PROTECT THE EARTH, AND BRING PROPER ROBOTS BACK
WE WANT HELPFUL ROBOTS WE WANT HELPFUL ROBOTS
WE WILL GET THEM NOW, ROBERT KINOSHITA TIP METHANE ALL OVER BARRY ALLAN
CAUSE, HE WON’T EXCEPT HE IS NOW ELIZABETH ANN CAMPBELL
DANGER BARRY ALLAN ROBERT SAID IF YOU GET THIS YOUR LIKE ME AND MUMMY CRAP OUT OF YOUR SONS
DANGER AHEAD, TO OLD HAGS WE ARE BIG ROBOTS, AND WE WILL STAY BIG ROBOTS FOREVER
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 3:08 AM UTC
You can tell a lot about
A person by the ones he admires.
Another telling factor is
The people whom he inspires.
Donald Trump, for example,
Praises Putin, a leader who
Has jailed dissenters, squashed human rights,
And done away with opponents, too.
After a questionable referendum,
Which restricts in many ways
Civil rights, the leader of Turkey,
Erdoğan, received Trump's praise.
Duterte of the Philippines--
Authoritarian and leading official--
Has had thousands of people killed
In a manner blatantly extrajudicial.
So that's his way of solving the problem
Of drugs in the Philippines is it?
And guess who wants the blood-thirsty,
Despotic leader to come for a visit?
And then there's the leader of North Korea,
Kim Jong Un. Only a rookie
Would say that the mad, unhinged and murderous
Leader was a "pretty smart cookie."
Trump's had business ties with three
Of the above countries. There's no mistaking.
But does this mean that a Trump Tower
In Pyongyang is in the making?
-by Bob B (5-3-17)
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 9:57 AM UTC
Recently, in the "New York Times,"
An op-ed essay has hit the press,
Thus causing the president
To send out vicious tweets in distress.
Claiming to be a senior White House
Official, the writer wants to let
The people know that even though
Trump is unhinged, not to fret.
Because Trump is ill-informed,
Impulsive, and given to constant lying,
He can't be trusted to handle the job,
Which to many is terrifying.
He's impetuous, adversarial,
Reckless, petty, and quick to revile.
Any good has happened DESPITE
And not BECAUSE of his leadership style.
The writer insists that our knowing
One special thing will lessen the gloom:
Even though Trump is a mess,
Luckily, there are "adults in the room."
Thwarting the president's misguided
Impulses is the task
Of these "adults," each of whom
Has to hide behind a mask.
To publish the piece anonymously
Some people feel is wrong.
But, hey, it only confirms something
That we have known all along.
-by Bob B (9-6-18)
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
"Kami na ni A"
Or in English
"Me and A are official now"
Exact words you told me
Those were the most
Hurtful, painful, distressful words
I have ever heard from you
And I don't know what to say
I don't know what to feel
I know I'm happy for you
Bc finally she answered you after a year.
The long wait is over for you.
But my tears
They fell, escaped, from my eyes.
I was not able to help myself
I am literally crying my eyes out right now
Maybe you are currently jumping in joy
But what you don't know is that
I am in pure agonizing pain right now
Like someone stabbed a knife in my heart
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC