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"ratta" poems
Oh yes I fully understand The sounds of this world are good and bad Good and bad Good and bad Nothing like the sound of a good rhyme A chime A dime The sound of a kiss THE LOUDER THE BETTER I ALWAYS SAY The sound of a forest Sleepily The branches scrape and scratch Ratta tat tatting on the window I love to hear the ones I love Say I love you too But bad sounds are just as bad A breaking bottle of good ***** A child crying in a store A branch Ratta tat tatting on my window at night A car crash A crying girl Or your parents fighting CRACK BANG SLASH KURRANG BOOM RING A DING DING So I guess to put it all into a rhyming couplet If a sound is bad I hates it If it’s good I loves it
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Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 1:21 AM UTC
Onomatopoeia Wouldn't Wanna Be Ya
Cold, cold hands. These hands of mine... Cold with red. I carry a burden. Such a heavy burden. I bury this burden-I bury deep. So, so deep. As I drive, I feel relief. My mind is wandering from place to place- from thought to thought. ...I swirve. Hitting a tree is not what I need right now, or is it? Maybe it would be better if I no longer existed. I'm quite awful, really. I lie to people very often- no remorse. Nah, maybe not. Just keep on driving. That's what I should do. Exactly what I should do. Home. Home feels so wonderous. I need my bed...but I shall retire to the couch tonight. My sheets are awfully messy. Pit pat, ratta tat. Knock knock, it's twelve o' clock. I answer the door, and I find a man in uniform. "Do you know the whereabouts of this woman?" She looked very familiar... "No, oh no, my, my, no, no." I answer with earnest. "That will be all, sir". Men in blue. Never leaving me alone. I feel they like me. I wonder why? Night time again. Oh, I love the night. I don't love this woman, though. She lays on my bed, naked. Some girl from a bar- she wants to lose her inhibitions with me. What she doesn't realize is... I'm losing mine with her. I tell her to close her eyes. She obliges. I walk softly over to her. Slowly, slowly. I feel her body with my hand... I feel absolute power within my palm. Bliss runs through my body- I end her. Now I have another burden for the night. It's no real problem, honestly. I'll just take her where I dump all of my other burdens. Hopefully I won't be too tired to lift her. She's pretty light, anyways.
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Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 9:32 AM UTC
Deceit
Cold, cold hands. These hands of mine... Cold with red. I carry a burden. Such a heavy burden. I bury this burden-I bury deep. So, so deep. As I drive, I feel relief. My mind is wandering from place to place- from thought to thought. ...I swirve. Hitting a tree is not what I need right now, or is it? Maybe it would be better if I no longer existed. I'm quite awful, really. I lie to people very often- no remorse. Nah, maybe not. Just keep on driving. That's what I should do. Exactly what I should do. Home. Home feels so wonderous. I need my bed...but I shall retire to the couch tonight. My sheets are awfully messy. Pit pat, ratta tat. Knock knock, it's twelve o' clock. I answer the door, and I find a man in uniform. "Do you know the whereabouts of this woman?" She looked very familiar... "No, oh no, my, my, no, no." I answer with earnest. "That will be all, sir". Men in blue. Never leaving me alone. I feel they like me. I wonder why? Night time again. Oh, I love the night. I don't love this woman, though. She lays on my bed, naked. Some girl from a bar- she wants to lose her inhibitions with me. What she doesn't realize is... I'm losing mine with her. I tell her to close her eyes. She obliges. I walk softly over to her. Slowly, slowly. I feel her body with my hand... I feel absolute power within my palm. Bliss runs through my body- I end her. Now I have another burden for the night. It's no real problem, honestly. I'll just take her where I dump all of my other burdens. Hopefully I won't be too tired to lift her. She's pretty light, anyways.
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61
I just walked by her & lost my breath. O boy, the incredible feeling in my ***** for her was immediate, very palpable. I mean dude, I fell for her hard, like somebody pulled the rug right out from under my feet. & I usually don't fall for the ladies like that, but man, she was smoking hot, ratta-tat-tat, super-sweet. I figured it must have something chemical, because I don't do drugs on the first date.
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
Something Chemical (Love At First Sight)
I had been up all night writing then as I was going to get my head down the phone rang, it was Britney saying do I want a hot toasted muffin I laughed out loud and told her to f**k off I know your hotel room number she said I am just outside then I heard the ratta tat tat oh well there goes my sleep it's breakfast on Britney and I know she'll let me She can sing me a song and I will read her a poem we both with no doubt know where this is going keep the press away it's breakfast on Britney By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris By NeonSolaris © 2011 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 5:28 AM UTC
Having Breakfast On Britney
Walking down the city streets Wearing a fresh new pair of pleats See a dame with a dog in a purse I know that soon I'll be in a hearse Dog springs out and clutches my face Looks like a bat flyin into a vase Whips out the claws and scratches me up I fall to the ground an throw off the pup Late that nite I wake up in a fuss Break down the door an leave in a rush Jump in the car and punch the throttle With my hand wrapped up around the bottle Hauling down the streets, **** the cops Try to stop me an I'll pop your top Drive right up to the tallest hill I'm feelin ill, needa pop a pill Take a look up at the moon And then I yell Ahhhh oooooo! Ahhhh oooooo! Drop on all fours and sprout some fur Cravin some mo so I let out a grrr Ears pop out That's what I'm talking about! Sprint down the hill And I'm ready ta **** Pounce on some civilians Cuttin em down by the millions Chomp at the fools bleed em out at the throat Bodies falling by the river, watch em all float Spot the cops drivin a by They don't know they're soon all gonna die! More keep on comin So I keep on runnin Nowhere to go so I take a last stand Load up on guns just like an Afghan I whip out the gat Make it go ratta tat tat Pinned against the wall I take it to overhaul All out of bullets, **** my gun The old fashioned way is a lot more fun But I don't last long, shots puncture my skull Flies out the back of my head leavin a hole Fall to the ground in a ****** mess But I got one last thing to profess Werewolves in Compton! Ahhhh oooooo! Ahhhh oooooo! Next up is hell! I'm comin fo you!
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Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Werewolves in Compton
Walking down the city streets Wearing a fresh new pair of pleats See a dame with a dog in a purse I know that soon I'll be in a hearse Dog springs out and clutches my face Looks like a bat flyin into a vase Whips out the claws and scratches me up I fall to the ground an throw off the pup Late that nite I wake up in a fuss Break down the door an leave in a rush Jump in the car and punch the throttle With my hand wrapped up around the bottle Hauling down the streets, **** the cops Try to stop me an I'll pop your top Drive right up to the tallest hill I'm feelin ill, needa pop a pill Take a look up at the moon And then I yell Ahhhh oooooo! Ahhhh oooooo! Drop on all fours and sprout some fur Cravin some mo so I let out a grrr Ears pop out That's what I'm talking about! Sprint down the hill And I'm ready ta **** Pounce on some civilians Cuttin em down by the millions Chomp at the fools bleed em out at the throat Bodies falling by the river, watch em all float Spot the cops drivin a by They don't know they're soon all gonna die! More keep on comin So I keep on runnin Nowhere to go so I take a last stand Load up on guns just like an Afghan I whip out the gat Make it go ratta tat tat Pinned against the wall I take it to overhaul All out of bullets, **** my gun The old fashioned way is a lot more fun But I don't last long, shots puncture my skull Flies out the back of my head leavin a hole Fall to the ground in a ****** mess But I got one last thing to profess Werewolves in Compton! Ahhhh oooooo! Ahhhh oooooo! Next up is hell! I'm comin fo you!
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51
Little drummer boy in my class Ratta-tat-tat Beating on his desk Tappity-tap-pat Keep the beat going friend I've never spoken with you But your knocks tell me everything You are so pumped, excited Today's the day And your poor pencil gets to be your outlet for your excitement The teacher tells you to "knock it off" He doesn't get the irony Mister, don't you see that he's trying to? Regardless, that energy has to go somewhere So now the pencil goes to work On your paper I can see the hearts, and the unmistakable names Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap Now your leg goes to work Like a jackhammer on the floor Little Thumper, if only she could see just how excited you are The flowers in the bag, the sign propped up against your desk A smile creeps across my face As my mind drifts to my own experience Thump-thump-thump Now my leg goes to work Like a contagion, the room is infected Love is, after all, in the air
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Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
Knocks, Beats, and a Pencil
The only thing I want is you Slam me up against a wall, **** me till I can't breathe, I want you The sounds our bones would make, A hundred years from now, The most beautiful ratta-tat-tat Of our bones pounding like drums Heavy, ****** filling the air with our chorus Love is music, Life is love, It all goes in a circle, And currently, I keep coming back to you me.gs
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Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
11:25 pm, 1/18/14
I shot you in my wildest dreams again last night. Over & over, I put you in my crosshairs, aimed straight on you & drew a bead. Then switching to a rapid fire mode, I unloaded everything I had on fully automatic, dropped you every which way but loose. Ratta-tat-tat, kapow, kapow, ratta-tat-tat, that's where it's at! And you, playing the perfect victim, lay beautifully sprawled out, relishing in each & every wound, covered with my flood. It was extreme, so romantic, a wonderfully ****** sensuous scene, and it made my blood boil, left me dreaming for more hot, straight-shooting. Lock and load! Hurry up Darling & shut the door!
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Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 5:36 AM UTC
The Romantic Straight-Shooter
It's dark I... can't.. I can't see And the walls talk And say its not worth it It's so not worth it I wish I knew what happened After you breathe, say goodbye And they ask me why Because the moon isn't as bright And he doesn't look at me the same And the summer was such a hot one "You're gonna burn up, girl" Oh please, please Burn me up Backed into a corner, she cries They get mad when she catches their lies Behind her back, ratta tat tat Metal on wood, it hurts more than it should Where to go, what to do Up at 4am, lashes wet and thick as glue So hot your sheets are soaked through I want to do it But I don't want it to hurt But sticking around Would be even worse
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Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 12:47 AM UTC
Sad girl, it's okay
There was once a spot, some would say he was charcoal others would say it's got to be coal. then you would have the, no its dark grey. But we'll let you decide that for now. The spot was on the page all alone,    he filled up quite a portion of the page. But it's not fun being alone, so he thought instead of a spot ill become many dots. So slowly what was one became two, three smaller and smaller did spot become. After quite a time, the spot was no more but dots sprinkled over the page, they all looked at each other the many but still alone. So they decided to connect slowly the large dots shrank as they lined from one to 100. It took a while but now they were connected. still their individual selves but now not alone. But the funny thing is, that when we connect things, we see more than before. They didn't realize that from a spot to a dot then united. They Painted a picture, you may ask of what could a giant spot becomes. Well ill tell you, it had a waggy tail, four legs, and one of the cutest barks. He ran around the page, some dots shock loose. landing in the middle spread out but close enough not to be alone. They wondered for a while what they were till they went "Woof, Oh my gosh were a dog, a puppy to be exact. And with that they came up with a name, they did a vote that was only fair. All wanted one, but you have one always                              wanting something esle. Well the vote was in the many had thought and pondered, now they knew who they were going to be. Drum roll please....       Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat ratta-tatta-tat-tat. And there name was to be Spot the dog,    except the one on our ear. He shall be known as bob. After he had a zoomy, scuffing the edges of the page, he settled down, ok after he'd chased his tail just this once more. So the story goes from one to the many, to be more than they'd ever wished before. We have Spot the dog and Bob the spot.     And if your careful and don't make a sound. You can peek through the door and see spot running around the page, chasing his tail and barking in the excitement that he's now more.
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Nov 5, 2020
Nov 5, 2020 at 7:07 AM UTC
A Spot That Was To Be More
There was once a spot, some would say he was charcoal others would say it's got to be coal. then you would have the, no its dark grey. But we'll let you decide that for now. The spot was on the page all alone,    he filled up quite a portion of the page. But it's not fun being alone, so he thought instead of a spot ill become many dots. So slowly what was one became two, three smaller and smaller did spot become. After quite a time, the spot was no more but dots sprinkled over the page, they all looked at each other the many but still alone. So they decided to connect slowly the large dots shrank as they lined from one to 100. It took a while but now they were connected. still their individual selves but now not alone. But the funny thing is, that when we connect things, we see more than before. They didn't realize that from a spot to a dot then united. They Painted a picture, you may ask of what could a giant spot becomes. Well ill tell you, it had a waggy tail, four legs, and one of the cutest barks. He ran around the page, some dots shock loose. landing in the middle spread out but close enough not to be alone. They wondered for a while what they were till they went "Woof, Oh my gosh were a dog, a puppy to be exact. And with that they came up with a name, they did a vote that was only fair. All wanted one, but you have one always                              wanting something esle. Well the vote was in the many had thought and pondered, now they knew who they were going to be. Drum roll please....       Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat ratta-tatta-tat-tat. And there name was to be Spot the dog,    except the one on our ear. He shall be known as bob. After he had a zoomy, scuffing the edges of the page, he settled down, ok after he'd chased his tail just this once more. So the story goes from one to the many, to be more than they'd ever wished before. We have Spot the dog and Bob the spot.     And if your careful and don't make a sound. You can peek through the door and see spot running around the page, chasing his tail and barking in the excitement that he's now more.
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51
I thought I left them in the ****** desert with the burning diesel & the screams, the ratta-tat-tats & the bad dreams. But I was ******* wrong, they're still here brotha, buried here, deep inside my aching head.
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Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
The Demons Are Still Here
Two steps forward one step back. Always a' pacing, a ratta-tat-tat on the beat of my heart or the beat of the drums. Why won't you acknowledge the people we've become?
0
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 7:14 PM UTC
Untitled