"oldboy" poems
In the Oldboy
I Saw the Devil
In the New World
A Nameless Gangster
With a Crying Fist
With Shiri
Came the Happy End
For Our Twisted Hero
Himalaya of Asian actors
Choi Min-sik
Happy birthday to you
52 => 25 (the one against 25 fight scene from Oldboy)
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 3:32 AM UTC
I scratched lyrics into the walls of this dump they call joint
finally became a tree with branches, wrote new raps every night
working out like crazy, punched my hands into walls
just like oldboy, then i became steel, endlessly tough
as my lucky number, this eight
tizzops became more popular, but never an other
sticking out my chest, ******* away all stress
albanians against serbs, greeks against turks
everything broken, everything in shards
but then comes Marissa, and she's calming me
i'm getting calm, getting calm, become
the old tizzop again, a ******* and thief
but everybody likes me, I remain --
tizzops, spreading fistfights like the Klitschko's
and I'm the most faithful, when I really feel love
not just talking about females, all my brothers
get nuttin but respect, their souls are wit me
most peeps live rushing lives, in our rushing times
they talk briefly, cause they don't know their inner
i'm not ridiculing them, cause they simply lack the words
they are lost and questions are flowing out of their ears
since they have no brothers or sisters to lean on
lifestyle like a frantic slalom, but I'm not wit 'em
putting stickers on the franchise, just to get by
I dominate every day; like the magic of the night
my raps are mania for me, me, and for me
cause I love and I have *** with my lyrics
forever being a chaser: where is Jason, baby?
without him, I won't make it through the night
life is infinity like eight, I feed you a knuckle sandwich
can you hear my c**k whistling? dem are hardcore-songz
straight out of my ***** suddenly millions of fanz
Aug 30, 2020
Aug 30, 2020 at 4:03 PM UTC
I'd feel so at home in Wyoming;
Married to my television
Cigarettes for breakfast
I'm at peace with my shaking
Clipping branches of my tree
To feed my precious pets
I never played the game
Rolling dice around my teeth
But I keep my eyes on the window
Let the creeping wind in my belly
Be all that makes sense
Thrown like a doll in the corner
Unblinking for the longest time
Measured by the shift and click
Twisted legs coiled like cables
Sealing Matthew into his box
America's fables never spoken
Her reputation and misadventures undeserved
Fit like latex on an amateur surgeon
My cardboard house unfolded
Everything in a tanned leather briefcase
I just forgot the combination
827 - 125 and the button slides
Why can't I leave my things in a crate
And ship myself off to a Grecian island?
I could be sung to sleep
Just as in my room
But now, my dear Johnny, Oldboy,
It's gloaming on Elysium
My chest is still beaten upon
I file the cold edges round
Empty another carton and call it a day
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 12:27 AM UTC
------
Small talk is shrinking/
Soon, there’ll be nothing left to say/
Awkward silence/
Choking on existential dread/
Broken ice/
The future bones of former frenemies/
As throwing knives; time paradox/
Don’t ask me why I’m cold/
Hypothermia/
Not here, and she knows it/
My spirit animal?/
A lobster in the ocean... of a seashell/
My real self is hidden, and/
Heavily encrypted, I/
Hack it into pieces/
‘Til my core splinters/
CLAWS OUT/
SCRATCH MY BROKEN RECORD/
I’M NOT A PLAYER/
I JUST **** A LOT OF **** UP/
MY WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE/
MAKE A DECISION/
WAKE UP FIFTEEN YEARS LATER/
IN A BOX/
AND EVERYBODY HATES ME/
INCLUDING MYSELVES/
I am not normal/
I cannot talk small/
I’m thinking about cutting out my tongue/
Like Oldboy./
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 2:05 AM UTC
memories, when i was eight years old
neighbourhood filled with rich people
except us, parking lots packed with lambos
on tv, they showed rambo, my fatherfigure
cause i ain't never had one, he abandoned
the family early and found himself a new one
never did he show remorse, faith was a strange word
and when i visited my father, i felt strange there
like this strange word, believe me friend, i did fight
banging innerly, bloodpressure 180, kids gangs and spray cans
until i caught a psychosis, without even realizing
songs of my shadows, and i grew myself a plumage, like birds
when i flew out of the window, and didn't notice the danger
third floor, big shock, well ---
but not one broken bone, yeah: tizzop's angel had spoken;
and i fell in love with a girl, summer holiday *** and some ****
soon, i was looking for god, and prayed without hands, in my head,
in my dreams and the soul, i was spraying on walls, didn't know boundaries
so the cuffs were clicking, so my luck had to line up
and i scratched lyrics into the walls of this dump they call joint
finally became a tree with branches, wrote new raps every night
working out like crazy, punched my hands into walls
just like oldboy, then i became steel, endlessly tough
as my lucky number, this eight
tizzops became more popular, but never an other
Aug 30, 2020
Aug 30, 2020 at 2:05 PM UTC