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"rednecks" poems
White folks: pack your bags and go. Our nut-brown world is quite offended. Make your shame-faced exit NOW, And leave your mansions unattended. Wait—before you pass the doors, It's time to settle ethnic scores. No more ragtime Minstrel Show. Our Moorish Science took it down. Black lives matter. White, less so— Now move your pale face out of town . . . But first, shell out for racial shame Caucasian losers of the game. Cultural pride is ours alone: Kings and Egyptian queens we were. The glories of our race, well-known Bedazzle in a darkened blur (Clear to Africa's descendants— Puzzling to you white dependents). Blackness lent your world its light, Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers. Scandinavia grew bright Under our beneficent powers. Negroes gave your blondes their beauty; Helped those Norsemen shake their ***** The Seven Wonders of the world: We built them all. No vain conjecture Dims our banner, black, unfurled, Above eternal architecture. Arts and knowledge gained from us Are what we threaten to discuss. We invented math and science Which you robbed from Timbuktu. Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance Caused Old Europe to renew. All our treasure that you plundered Testifies: your days are numbered. Classics of our Greeks you stole: Philosophy was never yours. Shame upon your racist soul; For Bach and Mozart both were Moors. Misappropriated treasures call for ruthless hard-line measures. Latino fate falls next—but, where ? Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ? Orientals everywhere: Choose your side and join the fight. Blackness rising! Late the hour; Heed your call to fight the power. Crackers need to check your race— Stop rooting for that ****** clown. Rednecks all up in our face; Racist throwbacks got us down. But as your statues bite the dust Your light goes dark (you know it must). So move on out, oppressor, thief. Long have you held our nation back. In some white galaxy seek relief— But here the light itself is black. Stars are racist. So is the sun. Now let God's great black will be done.
0
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
connecthook
Betting on the Races
White folks: pack your bags and go. Our nut-brown world is quite offended. Make your shame-faced exit NOW, And leave your mansions unattended. Wait—before you pass the doors, It's time to settle ethnic scores. No more ragtime Minstrel Show. Our Moorish Science took it down. Black lives matter. White, less so— Now move your pale face out of town . . . But first, shell out for racial shame Caucasian losers of the game. Cultural pride is ours alone: Kings and Egyptian queens we were. The glories of our race, well-known Bedazzle in a darkened blur (Clear to Africa's descendants— Puzzling to you white dependents). Blackness lent your world its light, Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers. Scandinavia grew bright Under our beneficent powers. Negroes gave your blondes their beauty; Helped those Norsemen shake their ***** The Seven Wonders of the world: We built them all. No vain conjecture Dims our banner, black, unfurled, Above eternal architecture. Arts and knowledge gained from us Are what we threaten to discuss. We invented math and science Which you robbed from Timbuktu. Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance Caused Old Europe to renew. All our treasure that you plundered Testifies: your days are numbered. Classics of our Greeks you stole: Philosophy was never yours. Shame upon your racist soul; For Bach and Mozart both were Moors. Misappropriated treasures call for ruthless hard-line measures. Latino fate falls next—but, where ? Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ? Orientals everywhere: Choose your side and join the fight. Blackness rising! Late the hour; Heed your call to fight the power. Crackers need to check your race— Stop rooting for that ****** clown. Rednecks all up in our face; Racist throwbacks got us down. But as your statues bite the dust Your light goes dark (you know it must). So move on out, oppressor, thief. Long have you held our nation back. In some white galaxy seek relief— But here the light itself is black. Stars are racist. So is the sun. Now let God's great black will be done.
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60
There's strange noises round these parts Tales of zombies too Haunted cabins, ghostly sights All sorts of witches brew We all laugh when we hear stories Stories that we know aren't true There's a drink that folks all know And it ain't called witches brew There ain't no redneck zombies That I guarantee To make a redneck zombie you need the recipe A shot or two of good old jack and a shot of grandpa's lightning that's a redneck zombie son Drink two and it gets frightening moving lights out in the wood strange visions on the beach swamp gas, that's what I would say redneck zombies....that's a reach tourist folk see things a plenty they believe all of our tales like the one about that boy Ahab going chasing that white whale There ain't no redneck zombies That I guarantee To make a redneck zombie you need the recipe A shot or two of good old jack and a shot of grandpa's lightning that's a redneck zombie son Drink two and it gets frightening if there was such a thing as zombies wandering round out here i'd figure it was just my kin folk after a case or two of beer zombies like to eat folks brains and tear them all apart now to a redneck, that there's work and rednecks aren't that smart There ain't no redneck zombies That I guarantee To make a redneck zombie you need the recipe A shot or two of good old jack and a shot of grandpa's lightning that's a redneck zombie son Drink two and it gets frightening
0
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
roger-turner
Redneck Zombies
There's strange noises round these parts Tales of zombies too Haunted cabins, ghostly sights All sorts of witches brew We all laugh when we hear stories Stories that we know aren't true There's a drink that folks all know And it ain't called witches brew There ain't no redneck zombies That I guarantee To make a redneck zombie you need the recipe A shot or two of good old jack and a shot of grandpa's lightning that's a redneck zombie son Drink two and it gets frightening moving lights out in the wood strange visions on the beach swamp gas, that's what I would say redneck zombies....that's a reach tourist folk see things a plenty they believe all of our tales like the one about that boy Ahab going chasing that white whale There ain't no redneck zombies That I guarantee To make a redneck zombie you need the recipe A shot or two of good old jack and a shot of grandpa's lightning that's a redneck zombie son Drink two and it gets frightening if there was such a thing as zombies wandering round out here i'd figure it was just my kin folk after a case or two of beer zombies like to eat folks brains and tear them all apart now to a redneck, that there's work and rednecks aren't that smart There ain't no redneck zombies That I guarantee To make a redneck zombie you need the recipe A shot or two of good old jack and a shot of grandpa's lightning that's a redneck zombie son Drink two and it gets frightening
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48
Ruddy's was the place to be on Wednesday nights, cheap drinks, free hotdogs and the graceful presence of Times Square hookers late at night, what a wonderful scene, marines hookers and the best jazz juke box inn manhattan, rowdy and something almost always happened, better than life. I was a young man in a strange country, had my fists tested in FLA and Brooklyn for stupid prejudices on my behalf and others, words hurt only those who do not know their meaning and root. There was a black man sitting next to me, quiet and still, a true barfly, he turned and said; - you are not from round here- -  no - I said -I am from Mexico - - you don't look Mexican, but let's go with it, I don't look African American either- - r you from the south?- -Georgia, as they call it - -well, I've worked in FLA and met some rednecks, Cubans, blacks, but almost no Chinese- -you mean yellow- -or ******* - or **** you know men, I prefer racism down south, over there the distinction is cut loose clear, we don't like each other, but here, men I tell you, you wannanother beer?- -sure men- -Girls just wanna **** you cause I'm black, you know, to be cool and **** -yeah, Jewish girls wanna **** white Gentiles, different reasons same goal- -I hear you, here it's all about being fashionable, but deep in the pit it's all fake as a 10 dollar coin-   We kept at it until Beth started a fight with another ****** they were calling each other **** I've never heard.
0
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
luis-mdahuar
Dialogue between a **** and a blackman.
Ruddy's was the place to be on Wednesday nights, cheap drinks, free hotdogs and the graceful presence of Times Square hookers late at night, what a wonderful scene, marines hookers and the best jazz juke box inn manhattan, rowdy and something almost always happened, better than life. I was a young man in a strange country, had my fists tested in FLA and Brooklyn for stupid prejudices on my behalf and others, words hurt only those who do not know their meaning and root. There was a black man sitting next to me, quiet and still, a true barfly, he turned and said; - you are not from round here- -  no - I said -I am from Mexico - - you don't look Mexican, but let's go with it, I don't look African American either- - r you from the south?- -Georgia, as they call it - -well, I've worked in FLA and met some rednecks, Cubans, blacks, but almost no Chinese- -you mean yellow- -or ******* - or **** you know men, I prefer racism down south, over there the distinction is cut loose clear, we don't like each other, but here, men I tell you, you wannanother beer?- -sure men- -Girls just wanna **** you cause I'm black, you know, to be cool and **** -yeah, Jewish girls wanna **** white Gentiles, different reasons same goal- -I hear you, here it's all about being fashionable, but deep in the pit it's all fake as a 10 dollar coin-   We kept at it until Beth started a fight with another ****** they were calling each other **** I've never heard.
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15
A large red elephant jumped on the trampoline. Somewhere in the distance a blue eyed babe cried. Rednecks clad in Paul Bunyan shirts inhaled the fumes of their barbecues. Moving gracefully, a trapeze dancer tip-toed across the river. My wife slumbered on our couch, And wind blew a kite out of my hands. I fed a goat nectar from my hands. A crowd encircled the trampoline. My family purchased a new couch, And later that day we helplessly cried. Our wailing could not be heard across the river, Where rednecks continued to inhale the fumes of their barbecues. Neighbors massed to celebrate barbecues. I looked down at my blood stained hands, Then joined the beautiful trapeze dancer across the river. My red elephant broke the trampoline And we were surrounded by infinite crying. Nobody sat on the new couch. Many problems arrived with the new couch; There weren’t any more barbecues, And my teeth crunched on granola as we cried. Silky fabric embraced my hands. Ingrid, my wife, dies on the trampoline. She was buried across the river. Some guy drank all the water from the river, And started living on our couch. Who would have thought I met lily on the trampoline, And who would have thought I took up barbecues. Now I felt warmth on the back of my hand And I no longer cried. Only the winter wind cried, Howling over Ingrid’s grave across the river. I slapped an elephant carcass with my hand, Proceeding to cook it with salt and pepper on the couch. I bored my wife with barbecues So she went to jump on they trampoline. Lily died on the trampoline; I always cried. No longer did I host barbecues, the wind continued to howl across the river. I gutted the couch, and killed myself with the back of my hand.
0
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 7:43 AM UTC
claudia-shaldervan
Trampoline
A large red elephant jumped on the trampoline. Somewhere in the distance a blue eyed babe cried. Rednecks clad in Paul Bunyan shirts inhaled the fumes of their barbecues. Moving gracefully, a trapeze dancer tip-toed across the river. My wife slumbered on our couch, And wind blew a kite out of my hands. I fed a goat nectar from my hands. A crowd encircled the trampoline. My family purchased a new couch, And later that day we helplessly cried. Our wailing could not be heard across the river, Where rednecks continued to inhale the fumes of their barbecues. Neighbors massed to celebrate barbecues. I looked down at my blood stained hands, Then joined the beautiful trapeze dancer across the river. My red elephant broke the trampoline And we were surrounded by infinite crying. Nobody sat on the new couch. Many problems arrived with the new couch; There weren’t any more barbecues, And my teeth crunched on granola as we cried. Silky fabric embraced my hands. Ingrid, my wife, dies on the trampoline. She was buried across the river. Some guy drank all the water from the river, And started living on our couch. Who would have thought I met lily on the trampoline, And who would have thought I took up barbecues. Now I felt warmth on the back of my hand And I no longer cried. Only the winter wind cried, Howling over Ingrid’s grave across the river. I slapped an elephant carcass with my hand, Proceeding to cook it with salt and pepper on the couch. I bored my wife with barbecues So she went to jump on they trampoline. Lily died on the trampoline; I always cried. No longer did I host barbecues, the wind continued to howl across the river. I gutted the couch, and killed myself with the back of my hand.
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40
On old mainstreet, sits an old café, Where home-town-grown musicians play. Sometimes they like to change its name, But the clientele stay just the same. When times are tough down in the town, You know you can’t get the Black Dog down. Rednecks and faux-necks and used-to-be-loggers, Crafters and rafters, and activist bloggers, And poets and hippies and mystics and fools, And outcasts from the secondary schools, And gypsies too: you’ll find them here, Drowning in local, hand-crafted beer. At night, locals sip organic tea, And turn up the menagerie Of lights and mics from another age, Pieced together to make a stage. And there, the guitarists waste their breath Beating the Same. Four. Chords. To. Death. There are some new lyrics, there and here, But all of them memories of yester-year: A year spent in the same **** space, With others who’ve never left this place. They sing of their dear loves and pasts, And how much longer the wandering lasts. And on they wail, and on they moan, And twang the antique, rustic tone, But their faces show they like it here, This breaking haunt of yester-year, And after the set, they carouse with cheer, And smile contentedly to their beer. On old mainstreet sits an old café, Where home-town-grown musicians play. Sometimes they like to change its name, But the clientele stay just the same. When times are tough down in the town, You know you can’t get the Black Dog down.
0
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 3:17 AM UTC
subconscious-on-parade
Black Dog
On old mainstreet, sits an old café, Where home-town-grown musicians play. Sometimes they like to change its name, But the clientele stay just the same. When times are tough down in the town, You know you can’t get the Black Dog down. Rednecks and faux-necks and used-to-be-loggers, Crafters and rafters, and activist bloggers, And poets and hippies and mystics and fools, And outcasts from the secondary schools, And gypsies too: you’ll find them here, Drowning in local, hand-crafted beer. At night, locals sip organic tea, And turn up the menagerie Of lights and mics from another age, Pieced together to make a stage. And there, the guitarists waste their breath Beating the Same. Four. Chords. To. Death. There are some new lyrics, there and here, But all of them memories of yester-year: A year spent in the same **** space, With others who’ve never left this place. They sing of their dear loves and pasts, And how much longer the wandering lasts. And on they wail, and on they moan, And twang the antique, rustic tone, But their faces show they like it here, This breaking haunt of yester-year, And after the set, they carouse with cheer, And smile contentedly to their beer. On old mainstreet sits an old café, Where home-town-grown musicians play. Sometimes they like to change its name, But the clientele stay just the same. When times are tough down in the town, You know you can’t get the Black Dog down.
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36
In the Boondocks of the Ozarks Salty caramel smelt of August Swathes stench of rotten trailer parks Imprisons barren mid-west dust Feral fevered kids a hunting For to cool; shoot up, or drink Arthritic railroad; tie and shunting Ferrous old town wretched on the brink Since the cease of mine and logging Depletion of iron lead and zinc Nag horse too dead for flogging Folks futures draining down the sink Some respite in the summer heat RV’s; tourists and campers for trails Like blackfly plague pick off the meat Fly fast; escape as another harvest fails Dark currents pepper darker mood Intolerance grinds in the daily way Resentment bread as only food At someone’s door the blame shall lay In the graveyard of the Ozarks Rednecks dance on industry tombs Burn brown smoke spice. Moonshine sparks Oblivion; no life. Back to mothers' womb ©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness 2018 – All rights reserved)
0
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 8:06 AM UTC
pofacedpoetry
OZARK
In the Boondocks of the Ozarks Salty caramel smelt of August Swathes stench of rotten trailer parks Imprisons barren mid-west dust Feral fevered kids a hunting For to cool; shoot up, or drink Arthritic railroad; tie and shunting Ferrous old town wretched on the brink Since the cease of mine and logging Depletion of iron lead and zinc Nag horse too dead for flogging Folks futures draining down the sink Some respite in the summer heat RV’s; tourists and campers for trails Like blackfly plague pick off the meat Fly fast; escape as another harvest fails Dark currents pepper darker mood Intolerance grinds in the daily way Resentment bread as only food At someone’s door the blame shall lay In the graveyard of the Ozarks Rednecks dance on industry tombs Burn brown smoke spice. Moonshine sparks Oblivion; no life. Back to mothers' womb ©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness 2018 – All rights reserved)
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25
(truck-drivers, bar-boozers, loser-bar yokles, blue-collar rednecks will all love this smash hit song!!!) Rockin country genre "Big Mouth Surgery"       (by david John Clare) (rockin' country drunk hick juke-box mix) Wow!  She sure does talk a lot... could almost cause a riot But we don't get... just what she's trying to say We could hear her fine before... when she used to be quiet Guess all them new school-words get in the way We took her to see... a gypsy-psychic-magician But he wanted more... than we could pay So we took her down to see... our local town physician And here's what old doc... had to say Boys... "She needs Big Mouth Surgery" Her tongue is on the blink She just talks, sqwacks and talks some more 'Cause she don't know how to think So please don't be stallin' Her brain is now corrupt Can't you see that she has fallen' And she just can't ''shut-up!" Big Mouth Surgery Cause no pills seem to work Hurry please now doctor Before she drives us all berserk Big Mouth Surgery But will it work without a doubt? Better make it a lobotomy Before she starts to shout! (solo) Our reputations are expensive While her talk is **** cheap You just can't tell her nothin' 'Cause a secret she can't keep No one seems to know What the fuss is all about We're just waitin' for her brain To catch up with her mouth She needs Big Mouth Surgery Her mind is on the blink She always talks, talks and talks all day Why can't she just please stop & think? So please don't be stallin' Her head is all corrupt Can't you see that she has fallen' Her fat-mouth can't shut-up! Big Mouth Surgery We need to find her a shrink Hurry please there doctor Before she drives us all to drink Big Mouth Surgery She's heard north, east, west & south Who gave her brain a laxative? Got diarrhea of the mouth! Big Mouth Surgery No pill can take effect Hurry please now doctor She is a mental wreck Our minds: she made us loose Her words: just seem to ooze It's so hard: to take a snooze We just drown all-day in ***** Beer, Whisky, Wine & ***** . . . To wash away our ear-ache blues! Yip Yip Zip Lip!  ...Yee Haw! (c) 2009    David Wayne Clare CLAIRVOYANT MUSIC / BMI all rights reserved in perpetuity
0
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 2:28 AM UTC
david-w-clare
Big Mouth Surgery
(truck-drivers, bar-boozers, loser-bar yokles, blue-collar rednecks will all love this smash hit song!!!) Rockin country genre "Big Mouth Surgery"       (by david John Clare) (rockin' country drunk hick juke-box mix) Wow!  She sure does talk a lot... could almost cause a riot But we don't get... just what she's trying to say We could hear her fine before... when she used to be quiet Guess all them new school-words get in the way We took her to see... a gypsy-psychic-magician But he wanted more... than we could pay So we took her down to see... our local town physician And here's what old doc... had to say Boys... "She needs Big Mouth Surgery" Her tongue is on the blink She just talks, sqwacks and talks some more 'Cause she don't know how to think So please don't be stallin' Her brain is now corrupt Can't you see that she has fallen' And she just can't ''shut-up!" Big Mouth Surgery Cause no pills seem to work Hurry please now doctor Before she drives us all berserk Big Mouth Surgery But will it work without a doubt? Better make it a lobotomy Before she starts to shout! (solo) Our reputations are expensive While her talk is **** cheap You just can't tell her nothin' 'Cause a secret she can't keep No one seems to know What the fuss is all about We're just waitin' for her brain To catch up with her mouth She needs Big Mouth Surgery Her mind is on the blink She always talks, talks and talks all day Why can't she just please stop & think? So please don't be stallin' Her head is all corrupt Can't you see that she has fallen' Her fat-mouth can't shut-up! Big Mouth Surgery We need to find her a shrink Hurry please there doctor Before she drives us all to drink Big Mouth Surgery She's heard north, east, west & south Who gave her brain a laxative? Got diarrhea of the mouth! Big Mouth Surgery No pill can take effect Hurry please now doctor She is a mental wreck Our minds: she made us loose Her words: just seem to ooze It's so hard: to take a snooze We just drown all-day in ***** Beer, Whisky, Wine & ***** . . . To wash away our ear-ache blues! Yip Yip Zip Lip!  ...Yee Haw! (c) 2009    David Wayne Clare CLAIRVOYANT MUSIC / BMI all rights reserved in perpetuity
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70
hitler's mush and britney's bush- things that make you cringe. paul bunyan and ***** hoes- mouthful of wood. beieber's twig and a dodo- nobody has seen them for a long time. rednecks and squirrels- store nuts for the long winter. and **** livestock. this isnt a poem.this is a slur to all of you that take it up.
0
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
ankit-nayar
in god we trust.all others are crossdressers.
hitler's mush and britney's bush- things that make you cringe. paul bunyan and ***** hoes- mouthful of wood. beieber's twig and a dodo- nobody has seen them for a long time. rednecks and squirrels- store nuts for the long winter. and **** livestock. this isnt a poem.this is a slur to all of you that take it up.
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10
Music Running out of time, nothing left to rhyme, no longer in my prime, listening to Sublime. Used to smoke **** slaves I have freed, red I still bleed, listening to Creed. I'm all that, I have kicked my cat, my girl is a brat, listening to Ratt. Invented a love potion, makes girls frozen, many things I've broken, listening to Poison. Buried in the sand, not what I planned, I need a helping hand, listening to The Steve Miller Band. Too many cell phones, can never get any loans, love the show Bones, listening to The Rolling Stones. Confessing all my sins, playing some violins, dizzy from the spins, listening to The Thompson Twins. Standing in the cold, my life is uncontrolled, just got paroled, listening to Avenged Sevenfold. Sprayed with mace, kicked in the face, stuck in this rat race, listening to Three Days Grace. Working the graveyard shift, lots of sand I must sift, my life needs a lift, listening to Taylor Swift. Living in Illinois, tired of hearing noise, losing all my poise, listening to The Beach Boys. No hands on the clock, it's me people mock, dryer stole another sock, listening to Kid Rock. Music has made me what I am, loving the hairbands and the glam. Hard rock is all I know, how could you not like Ugly Kid Joe. Heavy metal is where it's at, all the older bands are bald and fat. Top forty isn't half bad, every year it's a different fad. Disco and grunge had a short stay, Nirvana and Pearl Jam, get too much air play. Hip hop and rap has been around to long, can they even sing a real song. Nothing will ever beat the eighties, spandex, hair and all the ***** ladies. My two favorite songs are Sister Christian, and Here I go Again, those songs remind me of way back when. Country, well that will always **** rednecks, Nascar, hunting and a giant truck.
0
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 1:58 AM UTC
allen-wilbert
Music
Music Running out of time, nothing left to rhyme, no longer in my prime, listening to Sublime. Used to smoke **** slaves I have freed, red I still bleed, listening to Creed. I'm all that, I have kicked my cat, my girl is a brat, listening to Ratt. Invented a love potion, makes girls frozen, many things I've broken, listening to Poison. Buried in the sand, not what I planned, I need a helping hand, listening to The Steve Miller Band. Too many cell phones, can never get any loans, love the show Bones, listening to The Rolling Stones. Confessing all my sins, playing some violins, dizzy from the spins, listening to The Thompson Twins. Standing in the cold, my life is uncontrolled, just got paroled, listening to Avenged Sevenfold. Sprayed with mace, kicked in the face, stuck in this rat race, listening to Three Days Grace. Working the graveyard shift, lots of sand I must sift, my life needs a lift, listening to Taylor Swift. Living in Illinois, tired of hearing noise, losing all my poise, listening to The Beach Boys. No hands on the clock, it's me people mock, dryer stole another sock, listening to Kid Rock. Music has made me what I am, loving the hairbands and the glam. Hard rock is all I know, how could you not like Ugly Kid Joe. Heavy metal is where it's at, all the older bands are bald and fat. Top forty isn't half bad, every year it's a different fad. Disco and grunge had a short stay, Nirvana and Pearl Jam, get too much air play. Hip hop and rap has been around to long, can they even sing a real song. Nothing will ever beat the eighties, spandex, hair and all the ***** ladies. My two favorite songs are Sister Christian, and Here I go Again, those songs remind me of way back when. Country, well that will always **** rednecks, Nascar, hunting and a giant truck.
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44
I sat on a rock and stared At the wisps of cloud Obscuring the blue of the sky The grey drew nearer And I realized it was not merely grey But aqua, navy, burnt, and yellow I tried to scream No words left my mouth Then they left the sky Plummeted to the earth From the shelter I had taken only seconds before I saw them Those ducks Those stupid ducks Those stupid suicidal ducks Destroy what remained of my garden May one thousand starving rednecks boil you alive As I watch my garden be avenged.
0
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
darcy-sahn
The Final Storm (a response to Ena Alysopriono)
I sat on a rock and stared At the wisps of cloud Obscuring the blue of the sky The grey drew nearer And I realized it was not merely grey But aqua, navy, burnt, and yellow I tried to scream No words left my mouth Then they left the sky Plummeted to the earth From the shelter I had taken only seconds before I saw them Those ducks Those stupid ducks Those stupid suicidal ducks Destroy what remained of my garden May one thousand starving rednecks boil you alive As I watch my garden be avenged.
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18
Dazed, infusions of hate, Swineherd is dirtiest of pigs, ******* Limbaugh rush.
0
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 9:27 PM UTC
ormond
Haiku (rednecks)
Dazed, infusions of hate, Swineherd is dirtiest of pigs, ******* Limbaugh rush.
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3
Zombies Or Rabies Walking around one afternoon, foaming at the mouth, like a rabid raccoon. Was I bitten by a dog, I couldn't tell through the fog. Is Cujo on the loose, with a possum, I tried to ****** Walking sideways to the local clinic, people are laughing, thinking it's a gimmick. Feeling like a poisoned zombie, starting to cry and wanting my mommy. Cars are trying to run me over, I'm playing Frogger and red rover. At the point, where I can't even speak, I am way up on shit's creek. This might happen to you if you're bit, sure wish I had a survival kit. I feel the need to feed on flesh, it tastes so good and so fresh. Blood is dripping down my face, Walmart seemed like the right place. No one cares about rednecks and minorities, I may have rabies, but I still have my priorities. Old people and fat ones too, what other kind of people are better to chew. Am I a zombie or severely rabid, whatever it is it's spreading so rapid. People I've killed are starting to rise, it's Halloween, so we need no disguise. Inside Walmart is the walking dead, old women with no teeth are giving me head. All the doors got bolted shut, a crowded Walmart is doing the zombie strut. The military has surrounded the store, foaming at the mouth, is so worth dying for. Can hear the jets as they fly by, their about to bomb Walmart, till we all die. I escaped through a secret trap door, I'm about to go on a feeding frenzy tour.
0
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 1:22 AM UTC
allen-wilbert
Zombies Or Rabies
Zombies Or Rabies Walking around one afternoon, foaming at the mouth, like a rabid raccoon. Was I bitten by a dog, I couldn't tell through the fog. Is Cujo on the loose, with a possum, I tried to ****** Walking sideways to the local clinic, people are laughing, thinking it's a gimmick. Feeling like a poisoned zombie, starting to cry and wanting my mommy. Cars are trying to run me over, I'm playing Frogger and red rover. At the point, where I can't even speak, I am way up on shit's creek. This might happen to you if you're bit, sure wish I had a survival kit. I feel the need to feed on flesh, it tastes so good and so fresh. Blood is dripping down my face, Walmart seemed like the right place. No one cares about rednecks and minorities, I may have rabies, but I still have my priorities. Old people and fat ones too, what other kind of people are better to chew. Am I a zombie or severely rabid, whatever it is it's spreading so rapid. People I've killed are starting to rise, it's Halloween, so we need no disguise. Inside Walmart is the walking dead, old women with no teeth are giving me head. All the doors got bolted shut, a crowded Walmart is doing the zombie strut. The military has surrounded the store, foaming at the mouth, is so worth dying for. Can hear the jets as they fly by, their about to bomb Walmart, till we all die. I escaped through a secret trap door, I'm about to go on a feeding frenzy tour.
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39
halfway home from that concrete-bowl arena teeming (heaving) with stinky-sweat-soaked rednecks layered in sawdust and grease a messy blackface mob spreading spit tobacco over their naked bones, they sneak around through the drafty back hallways casually scattering dad’s old shotgun shells fresh cigarette ash mamma’s whiskey labels and let-this-be-broken pregnancy tests. rusty dogtags clink together sliding between camouflaged denim mocking quick African rhythms circular saws scream over the echoing footfalls of steel-toed boots padded with suspicious glances and my lonely power lines are laying lazy across the sweet, forgiven sky honeysuckle weep as they hug the barbed-wire the sunset smells something like grace
0
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 12:54 PM UTC
glen-brunson
A Paleneck Walks Back To His House
halfway home from that concrete-bowl arena teeming (heaving) with stinky-sweat-soaked rednecks layered in sawdust and grease a messy blackface mob spreading spit tobacco over their naked bones, they sneak around through the drafty back hallways casually scattering dad’s old shotgun shells fresh cigarette ash mamma’s whiskey labels and let-this-be-broken pregnancy tests. rusty dogtags clink together sliding between camouflaged denim mocking quick African rhythms circular saws scream over the echoing footfalls of steel-toed boots padded with suspicious glances and my lonely power lines are laying lazy across the sweet, forgiven sky honeysuckle weep as they hug the barbed-wire the sunset smells something like grace
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28
walking through the big flea market off of highway 19 north of Tampa looking for whatever and something curious and kitsch or campy merchants selling in the parking lot used blenders and old cameras burnt out or faulty devices DVD cases and game cartridges old rednecks shout out opinions in a cacophony of drawled signifiers representing visions of despotic rulers reigning a tyranny of taxes and decline old glass containers and windshields shine scattering high afternoon sunlight in the Sunday sky sitting and resting used and content waiting waiting for the wear and reduction of time the market continues into indoor aisles criss-crossing within a ramshackle structure plywood walls supporting sheet metal roofing an aroma of every greasy food wafting into one people wrapped in worn fashions whites in Ts and denim muslim women in headscarves a black deputy strapped down in uniform the deputy enforces commerce laws around the alternative marketplace a variety of commodities are still available bongs and e-cigs and incense and **** **** parakeets cry out down one aisle a stack of blue aquariums drone a bubbling hum the stench of cedar and rat **** and hamsters reptiles basking in the arid glow of heat lamps all is right in America’s America the flea market is the floorboard of that promise an opportunity for anyone to begin or start again and over and over a liberal conservatism can be guarded well with rifles or tazers at bargain rates a conservative liberalism is applied openly in the atmosphere of everyone for anything and everything the dream of the flea market a black market and a carnival all of America’s cheap art on display its people swirled into one equal in their struggles and desires reaching for resources and derivatives buying low and selling higher stealing and selling short walking through the big flea market on a hot and cloudless Sunday afternoon looking for whatever or something it’s a fun thing to do originally posted to my blog https://sublimeobscenities.wordpress.com on 4/27/2014
0
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 1:17 AM UTC
michael-bauer
flea marketing
walking through the big flea market off of highway 19 north of Tampa looking for whatever and something curious and kitsch or campy merchants selling in the parking lot used blenders and old cameras burnt out or faulty devices DVD cases and game cartridges old rednecks shout out opinions in a cacophony of drawled signifiers representing visions of despotic rulers reigning a tyranny of taxes and decline old glass containers and windshields shine scattering high afternoon sunlight in the Sunday sky sitting and resting used and content waiting waiting for the wear and reduction of time the market continues into indoor aisles criss-crossing within a ramshackle structure plywood walls supporting sheet metal roofing an aroma of every greasy food wafting into one people wrapped in worn fashions whites in Ts and denim muslim women in headscarves a black deputy strapped down in uniform the deputy enforces commerce laws around the alternative marketplace a variety of commodities are still available bongs and e-cigs and incense and **** **** parakeets cry out down one aisle a stack of blue aquariums drone a bubbling hum the stench of cedar and rat **** and hamsters reptiles basking in the arid glow of heat lamps all is right in America’s America the flea market is the floorboard of that promise an opportunity for anyone to begin or start again and over and over a liberal conservatism can be guarded well with rifles or tazers at bargain rates a conservative liberalism is applied openly in the atmosphere of everyone for anything and everything the dream of the flea market a black market and a carnival all of America’s cheap art on display its people swirled into one equal in their struggles and desires reaching for resources and derivatives buying low and selling higher stealing and selling short walking through the big flea market on a hot and cloudless Sunday afternoon looking for whatever or something it’s a fun thing to do originally posted to my blog https://sublimeobscenities.wordpress.com on 4/27/2014
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53
It aches when I smile. My State's a disaster. Coal rollers, burnouts and days full of rapturous laughter and "Red Face" down in Lusk in the hot days of Summer--it's boiling; Winter winds burn up your face. I first learned to hate myself in a snowstorm on Dow Street in Sheridan. My best friends are the slow warmth that spreads through the chest, lifts a cold heart, grabs popcorn and pints at the Blacktooth on hundreds of nights. And 500,000 simple souls are a sight. Still they're just half a million salty drops in the ocean-- A quick squall of rain on the Bighorns. They've opened the floodgates for ********* morons, bigots and rednecks and rich, ******* ranchers thinking everyone owes them. And their dollars are deadpan gallows jokes down in Cheyenne. But I've seen cheap smiles 4 miles wide out by Sundance. And I've got good friends that I still carry with me like the potent, sweet, earthy afterburn of good whiskey, or the smell of the lodgepoles in the Spring up in Story. And it's still my home even though it's so empty. It's still my home though it sometimes seems ****** That State's in my bones, I don't think it'll leave me. So please understand that some nights when you find me, you've stumbled across a small splinter chipped off of Wyoming.
0
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 1:12 PM UTC
kyle-kulseth
Wyoming
It aches when I smile. My State's a disaster. Coal rollers, burnouts and days full of rapturous laughter and "Red Face" down in Lusk in the hot days of Summer--it's boiling; Winter winds burn up your face. I first learned to hate myself in a snowstorm on Dow Street in Sheridan. My best friends are the slow warmth that spreads through the chest, lifts a cold heart, grabs popcorn and pints at the Blacktooth on hundreds of nights. And 500,000 simple souls are a sight. Still they're just half a million salty drops in the ocean-- A quick squall of rain on the Bighorns. They've opened the floodgates for ********* morons, bigots and rednecks and rich, ******* ranchers thinking everyone owes them. And their dollars are deadpan gallows jokes down in Cheyenne. But I've seen cheap smiles 4 miles wide out by Sundance. And I've got good friends that I still carry with me like the potent, sweet, earthy afterburn of good whiskey, or the smell of the lodgepoles in the Spring up in Story. And it's still my home even though it's so empty. It's still my home though it sometimes seems ****** That State's in my bones, I don't think it'll leave me. So please understand that some nights when you find me, you've stumbled across a small splinter chipped off of Wyoming.
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40
The rednecks didn't see it. Obviously, many of us did. The bigots refuse to acknowledge it. Although we weren't. Nothing about the redheaded clown fool us. All his connection seems to be corrupt. And now they turning color like the rainbows. Still, the foolishness continues on. When you defend a communist based country which your money seems to have been built. But tear down your own agents of the best. You were only fooling yourself. Now your lawyer became wise. He has a family with he mustn't cut his ties. Your FIXER is a corrupt guy. Not only him many others falling by the waste side. Run Trump Run. The feds are coming, the feds are coming. The supporters that hated upon the best-qualified woman. Now trying to defend this fool even more. And look at his second in command. He makes no sense. Standing in the background like a fool too. Cause the redheaded clown found him a flunky and a fool. But this CONGRESS  that attacked President Obama now facing their own election drama. We aware now that Obama always stood taller than the clown. Even those against Hillary must admit they didn't want a woman running the country. Democrats women are more outspoken. I can't say it's in their DNA. But their spouses let them say what they have to say? Can't say much about this first robotic lady presently in the white house. We know in some opinions only she seems to have a husband. Who's a louse? Run President Run. We were very aware you were dumb. Run, run, run but you show can't hide. A classic Temptations line. Now, look at others trying to distance themselves from the man.
0
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 1:18 PM UTC
jeffrey-conyers
Somewhere In Time
The rednecks didn't see it. Obviously, many of us did. The bigots refuse to acknowledge it. Although we weren't. Nothing about the redheaded clown fool us. All his connection seems to be corrupt. And now they turning color like the rainbows. Still, the foolishness continues on. When you defend a communist based country which your money seems to have been built. But tear down your own agents of the best. You were only fooling yourself. Now your lawyer became wise. He has a family with he mustn't cut his ties. Your FIXER is a corrupt guy. Not only him many others falling by the waste side. Run Trump Run. The feds are coming, the feds are coming. The supporters that hated upon the best-qualified woman. Now trying to defend this fool even more. And look at his second in command. He makes no sense. Standing in the background like a fool too. Cause the redheaded clown found him a flunky and a fool. But this CONGRESS  that attacked President Obama now facing their own election drama. We aware now that Obama always stood taller than the clown. Even those against Hillary must admit they didn't want a woman running the country. Democrats women are more outspoken. I can't say it's in their DNA. But their spouses let them say what they have to say? Can't say much about this first robotic lady presently in the white house. We know in some opinions only she seems to have a husband. Who's a louse? Run President Run. We were very aware you were dumb. Run, run, run but you show can't hide. A classic Temptations line. Now, look at others trying to distance themselves from the man.
Continue reading...
37
aix, beck's, becks, blech's, checks, cheques, czechs, dec's, decks, dex, eckes, eques, ex, fecks, flecks, flex, heck's, hex, jex, kecks, lecce, lex, meckes, mex, necks, nex, next, peck's, pecks, plex, rex, sheck's, shek's, specks, specs, sphex, tech's, techs, teck's, tex, treks, vex, whelks, wrecks, x, x. amex, ampex, annex, apec's, apex, armtek's, avtex, aztecs, berlex, caltex, cemex, centex, cmx, comex, complex, comtrex, convex, crownx, defex, dissects, duplex, effects, ejects, entex, execs, expects, eyetech's, fanech's, fedex, finex, gatx, gtech's, inmex, intex, latex, memtec's, metex, natec's, nobec's, nymex, nynex, objects, onex, opec's, paychecks, paychex, pemex, perplex, pewex, playtex, portec's, projects, qintex, quebec's, railtex, rednecks, reflects, rejects, respects, roughnecks, scitex, simplex, starplex, steinbeck's, subjects, suspects, syntex, telex, telmex, tenrecs, timeplex, tridex, trintex, triplex, truex, vertex, visx, wall-tex, wedtech's, westtech's adaptec's, ametek's, atx, banamex, between decks, biotechs, bottlenecks, cineplex, cybersex, cytotechs, datarex, discotheques, equitex, eurochecks, gendrisek's, genentech's, govpx, hyponex, intellects, intersects, kaisertech's, malcolm x, medarex, mediplex, megaplex, memorex, methanex, metroplex, middlesex, multidex, multiplex, neorx, oraflex, pillowtex, prentnieks, rolodex, stratoflex, superx, symantec's, teleflex, turtlenecks, unisex, ventritex adaptaplex, ameritech's, audiotex, begonia rex, ****** simplex, solar apex, videotex, tyrannosaurus rex, regression of y on x
0
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 6:24 PM UTC
sam-stone-grenier
***
aix, beck's, becks, blech's, checks, cheques, czechs, dec's, decks, dex, eckes, eques, ex, fecks, flecks, flex, heck's, hex, jex, kecks, lecce, lex, meckes, mex, necks, nex, next, peck's, pecks, plex, rex, sheck's, shek's, specks, specs, sphex, tech's, techs, teck's, tex, treks, vex, whelks, wrecks, x, x. amex, ampex, annex, apec's, apex, armtek's, avtex, aztecs, berlex, caltex, cemex, centex, cmx, comex, complex, comtrex, convex, crownx, defex, dissects, duplex, effects, ejects, entex, execs, expects, eyetech's, fanech's, fedex, finex, gatx, gtech's, inmex, intex, latex, memtec's, metex, natec's, nobec's, nymex, nynex, objects, onex, opec's, paychecks, paychex, pemex, perplex, pewex, playtex, portec's, projects, qintex, quebec's, railtex, rednecks, reflects, rejects, respects, roughnecks, scitex, simplex, starplex, steinbeck's, subjects, suspects, syntex, telex, telmex, tenrecs, timeplex, tridex, trintex, triplex, truex, vertex, visx, wall-tex, wedtech's, westtech's adaptec's, ametek's, atx, banamex, between decks, biotechs, bottlenecks, cineplex, cybersex, cytotechs, datarex, discotheques, equitex, eurochecks, gendrisek's, genentech's, govpx, hyponex, intellects, intersects, kaisertech's, malcolm x, medarex, mediplex, megaplex, memorex, methanex, metroplex, middlesex, multidex, multiplex, neorx, oraflex, pillowtex, prentnieks, rolodex, stratoflex, superx, symantec's, teleflex, turtlenecks, unisex, ventritex adaptaplex, ameritech's, audiotex, begonia rex, ****** simplex, solar apex, videotex, tyrannosaurus rex, regression of y on x
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1
I attract artsy people! 78% Those free spirited artists with great imaginations find you interesting. They are usually interesting themselves, so its not a bad thing, but they CAN be a bit wifty and choose odd goals. If you like life to always be a bit 'different' from the norm, but not too extreme in any one direction, these are the people for you. If you seek logical decision making skills and good money management, you may want to change something in the way you appear. Artsy people are fun for adventure and exploring, so, have fun! (smoking **** helps too) 58% You attract geeks!   (<My comment: Some are cute tbh) 54% You attract Yuppies!    (<My comment: ''Young urban professional" or "young upwardly-mobile professional.'' Not bad) 54% You attract models!   (<My comment: They're fine) 46% You attract unstable people!   (<My comment: To true. It never fails) 14% You attract rednecks!     (<My comment: I'm black! Aren't rednecks racist?)
0
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 10:01 PM UTC
Bunhead17
According to a quiz
I attract artsy people! 78% Those free spirited artists with great imaginations find you interesting. They are usually interesting themselves, so its not a bad thing, but they CAN be a bit wifty and choose odd goals. If you like life to always be a bit 'different' from the norm, but not too extreme in any one direction, these are the people for you. If you seek logical decision making skills and good money management, you may want to change something in the way you appear. Artsy people are fun for adventure and exploring, so, have fun! (smoking **** helps too) 58% You attract geeks!   (<My comment: Some are cute tbh) 54% You attract Yuppies!    (<My comment: ''Young urban professional" or "young upwardly-mobile professional.'' Not bad) 54% You attract models!   (<My comment: They're fine) 46% You attract unstable people!   (<My comment: To true. It never fails) 14% You attract rednecks!     (<My comment: I'm black! Aren't rednecks racist?)
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7
The day sets sudden into summer shimmering blind beasts patchy and lost wander hopelessly along the tarmac trails of rubber foot caravans. My mind races rancid thoughts forward the winner takes all that winter melancholy waving funeral flags at the finish line. I'll bite down my teeth on the metal masculinity and taste holiday nostalgia: burning meat, drunken rednecks, fireworks just past dusk, that mixture of sulfur and black powder, fumes. I can't keep on like this, knees shaky from miles measured in ruby minutes. I'll eat this city whole, carbon emission load before my final marathon. These teeth will shine down like symmetrical clouds in the sky my mad mans brittle grin. I used to wish: for finer living in laps of luxury; for nights wrapped in silk, sweat, shine, and infamy; for heavens gates to open pearly white to golden streets for me. Those days have lost their charm beaten dreams that bellied up and showed their starving guts. Submitted and laid down with their tails tucked between legs and panting for mercy my dreams play bottom ***** to reality's sadistic hand. As for now; I hope. Hope I can hold the fire in my hand to burn my life and this city to the ground the pile of ashes will bare no souls return. That silent hour, I want to be alone and involved in the fashion of dogs. I'll wander off alone to the trees. My brittle ribs showing the silent cage of my black and tired heart. The trees will whisper their names to me as my spirit shakes their shining leaves in rising. Goodbye you lion; your angel face was as quiet as ever, slack and pale under a harvest moon.
0
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 1:17 AM UTC
leeshez
An Effort In the Unscripted
The day sets sudden into summer shimmering blind beasts patchy and lost wander hopelessly along the tarmac trails of rubber foot caravans. My mind races rancid thoughts forward the winner takes all that winter melancholy waving funeral flags at the finish line. I'll bite down my teeth on the metal masculinity and taste holiday nostalgia: burning meat, drunken rednecks, fireworks just past dusk, that mixture of sulfur and black powder, fumes. I can't keep on like this, knees shaky from miles measured in ruby minutes. I'll eat this city whole, carbon emission load before my final marathon. These teeth will shine down like symmetrical clouds in the sky my mad mans brittle grin. I used to wish: for finer living in laps of luxury; for nights wrapped in silk, sweat, shine, and infamy; for heavens gates to open pearly white to golden streets for me. Those days have lost their charm beaten dreams that bellied up and showed their starving guts. Submitted and laid down with their tails tucked between legs and panting for mercy my dreams play bottom ***** to reality's sadistic hand. As for now; I hope. Hope I can hold the fire in my hand to burn my life and this city to the ground the pile of ashes will bare no souls return. That silent hour, I want to be alone and involved in the fashion of dogs. I'll wander off alone to the trees. My brittle ribs showing the silent cage of my black and tired heart. The trees will whisper their names to me as my spirit shakes their shining leaves in rising. Goodbye you lion; your angel face was as quiet as ever, slack and pale under a harvest moon.
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46
Hot latte, with some chocolate dust sprinkles on top. Man I will be frank, Americans got it to easy, to easy. That's the american way. To many American's now have it to easy, ******* off of government funds away from the one's who really need them. We got a ghetto every 5 or 10 miles. A suburb every few miles, a mansion 1 to every five burbs. We got It easy with groceries, a store we get food from! Dont need to grow food anymore really, everything is manmade poisoned and antibiotic shots in your chicken and beef. We have dudes who wanna buy women, or men that wanna buy men. Even men who wanna buy trannies ( transexuals) or dudes who buy woman who are really men. but what countrys not that way. We got all different creeds breeds all here. Doctor's you can pay 200 bucks for the illegal way to get scripts, prescriptions for the not knower's. We have mad alcoholics here like no tomorrow. And serious ****** and dope addicts, We have jocks, idiots, goths, strippers, musicians, the best actors in the world. Along with the best movies. We have the old western U.S. we have the east coast where oceans you can get from the south to the east to the west. We have hillbillies, rednecks, gangsters, wannabees, liars, thieves, killers, rapists, city boys, country girls, Mercedes Benz, old pickup ford, motorcycle gangs -baddest ever.. We have everything here to get you in jail, hell and heaven. We can make you sin. Or make you want to repent. Come to us. Come to the united states of america. Forgot a big thing! The soilders. We got the best marines army navy all soilders in the world here.we have the most weapons of any country in this weird place. We have soilders who lose their lives for things they think their fighting for when really its rich overshadow government money their fighting for. We got huge graves, big tombstombs. Mostly marked with men who died unrespected from world war 1 , 2 and possibly three sometime in our sunny future. Welcome to America. Heaven and hell in one slice.
0
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 7:12 PM UTC
jake-muler
Welcome to my land-america man
Hot latte, with some chocolate dust sprinkles on top. Man I will be frank, Americans got it to easy, to easy. That's the american way. To many American's now have it to easy, ******* off of government funds away from the one's who really need them. We got a ghetto every 5 or 10 miles. A suburb every few miles, a mansion 1 to every five burbs. We got It easy with groceries, a store we get food from! Dont need to grow food anymore really, everything is manmade poisoned and antibiotic shots in your chicken and beef. We have dudes who wanna buy women, or men that wanna buy men. Even men who wanna buy trannies ( transexuals) or dudes who buy woman who are really men. but what countrys not that way. We got all different creeds breeds all here. Doctor's you can pay 200 bucks for the illegal way to get scripts, prescriptions for the not knower's. We have mad alcoholics here like no tomorrow. And serious ****** and dope addicts, We have jocks, idiots, goths, strippers, musicians, the best actors in the world. Along with the best movies. We have the old western U.S. we have the east coast where oceans you can get from the south to the east to the west. We have hillbillies, rednecks, gangsters, wannabees, liars, thieves, killers, rapists, city boys, country girls, Mercedes Benz, old pickup ford, motorcycle gangs -baddest ever.. We have everything here to get you in jail, hell and heaven. We can make you sin. Or make you want to repent. Come to us. Come to the united states of america. Forgot a big thing! The soilders. We got the best marines army navy all soilders in the world here.we have the most weapons of any country in this weird place. We have soilders who lose their lives for things they think their fighting for when really its rich overshadow government money their fighting for. We got huge graves, big tombstombs. Mostly marked with men who died unrespected from world war 1 , 2 and possibly three sometime in our sunny future. Welcome to America. Heaven and hell in one slice.
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1
Gas station, masked man Save tolls for the gas can Clean feet, ***** dozen Remedies for the cousin Sweat shops, floor mops Save the blood for the dance floor Bewitched, leg twitched Good Aiming Rednecks Saving gay couples from the ***
0
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 10:02 PM UTC
m-clement
A Triage of Sacktown
Gas station, masked man Save tolls for the gas can Clean feet, ***** dozen Remedies for the cousin Sweat shops, floor mops Save the blood for the dance floor Bewitched, leg twitched Good Aiming Rednecks Saving gay couples from the ***
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9
I've come to realize that your not from this town You are some long place away The trash that I live in I walk the streets or drive my car I know all the drug dealers And all of them know me. All the hippie guys who are stuck on some concept smoke **** eat shrooms become god kinda concept All the rednecks Trucks and Jeans tabacco spit This trash town that I love so much the gas stations at midnight we are lost as can be but what does it matter when you aren't here you're in some far town across years of rain soaked highways bright headlights miles
0
Oct 24, 2011
Oct 24, 2011 at 11:18 PM UTC
jacob-1
One Horse Town
I've come to realize that your not from this town You are some long place away The trash that I live in I walk the streets or drive my car I know all the drug dealers And all of them know me. All the hippie guys who are stuck on some concept smoke **** eat shrooms become god kinda concept All the rednecks Trucks and Jeans tabacco spit This trash town that I love so much the gas stations at midnight we are lost as can be but what does it matter when you aren't here you're in some far town across years of rain soaked highways bright headlights miles
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27
All Understanding uncovers ugliness, usury. Unifying utopians uncorruptable, unmoveable. Dashing Prophets promoted promiscuous personalities. Promethus’s powers persisted purposelessness. Do Postmodern proletariats protest phantoms? Puckering proudly, pondering paraphrases? If Egyptians engineered excessive egoists, Englishmen evolved ethical endgames. Tradition Rules reformed rednecks, remobilizing, romanticizing, recursions rose remarkably. If Caesar costumed cabals crafted carefully, Christianity calibrated circumferential conflicts. Vigilantism Unveils unlucky usurper, undoes underachieving, unemotional, unconsciousness unlearning unhumanness.    Every Tadpole’s talents triumphs titan’s tricks tip toeing towards truth.
0
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 2:58 AM UTC
scholarsystem
What has the gift of knowledge given unto us?
All Understanding uncovers ugliness, usury. Unifying utopians uncorruptable, unmoveable. Dashing Prophets promoted promiscuous personalities. Promethus’s powers persisted purposelessness. Do Postmodern proletariats protest phantoms? Puckering proudly, pondering paraphrases? If Egyptians engineered excessive egoists, Englishmen evolved ethical endgames. Tradition Rules reformed rednecks, remobilizing, romanticizing, recursions rose remarkably. If Caesar costumed cabals crafted carefully, Christianity calibrated circumferential conflicts. Vigilantism Unveils unlucky usurper, undoes underachieving, unemotional, unconsciousness unlearning unhumanness.    Every Tadpole’s talents triumphs titan’s tricks tip toeing towards truth.
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40
if I am elected president of this great country, next month will be a month long holiday, a celebration of blacks whites yellow red brown cellophane imaginary characters, superheros, invisible mystery movie stars country western, Rap stars, long haired rockers Disco even ( among the most reviled) rhythm and blues, blues reds those with accents, those without, homosapiens and bisexuals lesbians thespians the gay and those happy foot fetishists, my subscription to wow toes lapsed, biologists psychologists street pharmacy dudes Marilyn Monroe (oops my freudian slip, there) women men boys girls , old young two and four legged disabled American vet or not truck drivers , doctors nurses garbage collectors(I gotta give them cred) machinists secretaries liberals conservatives socialists ummm communists?, maybe not so much, waitresses even bill collectors, lawyers the clergy and those elected, maids kings queens prostitutes pimps bad  weak , rednecks Santa , I seen him today at the seven eleven he works construction this time of year, the DEA the Armed Forces, probation officers the unemployed , the guy in the suit at the grocery in front of me buying Ribeyes with food stamps, teachers, septic tank pumpers   .......whew,   I gotta take a break. I left many out , but this month long holiday is going to be inclusive. No one left out behind. All colors all sizes all sexes all religions. Gotta for once stop dividing this country into us and them, see us all as Americans.
0
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 1:28 AM UTC
wordvango
next month by proclamation
if I am elected president of this great country, next month will be a month long holiday, a celebration of blacks whites yellow red brown cellophane imaginary characters, superheros, invisible mystery movie stars country western, Rap stars, long haired rockers Disco even ( among the most reviled) rhythm and blues, blues reds those with accents, those without, homosapiens and bisexuals lesbians thespians the gay and those happy foot fetishists, my subscription to wow toes lapsed, biologists psychologists street pharmacy dudes Marilyn Monroe (oops my freudian slip, there) women men boys girls , old young two and four legged disabled American vet or not truck drivers , doctors nurses garbage collectors(I gotta give them cred) machinists secretaries liberals conservatives socialists ummm communists?, maybe not so much, waitresses even bill collectors, lawyers the clergy and those elected, maids kings queens prostitutes pimps bad  weak , rednecks Santa , I seen him today at the seven eleven he works construction this time of year, the DEA the Armed Forces, probation officers the unemployed , the guy in the suit at the grocery in front of me buying Ribeyes with food stamps, teachers, septic tank pumpers   .......whew,   I gotta take a break. I left many out , but this month long holiday is going to be inclusive. No one left out behind. All colors all sizes all sexes all religions. Gotta for once stop dividing this country into us and them, see us all as Americans.
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30