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"refund" poems
1260 Because that you are going And never coming back And I, however absolute, May overlook your Track— Because that Death is final, However first it be, This instant be suspended Above Mortality— Significance that each has lived The other to detect Discovery not God himself Could now annihilate Eternity, Presumption The instant I perceive That you, who were Existence Yourself forgot to live— The “Life that is” will then have been A thing I never knew— As Paradise fictitious Until the Realm of you— The “Life that is to be,” to me, A Residence too plain Unless in my Redeemer’s Face I recognize your own— Of Immortality who doubts He may exchange with me Curtailed by your obscuring Face Of everything but He— Of Heaven and Hell I also yield The Right to reprehend To whoso would commute this Face For his less priceless Friend. If “God is Love” as he admits We think that me must be Because he is a “jealous God” He tells us certainly If “All is possible with” him As he besides concedes He will refund us finally Our confiscated Gods—
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Because that you are going
And I will make sure that if anything were to happen, It would do little to affect you. It's not everyday You find a goose that lays eggs With speckled jewels and golden flakes The world is full of incongruity And there's no doubt about the certainty That something bad may happen, And we don't want that, do we? So listen carefully. The world is a giant carboniferous spicule Hanging in a nest of hydroxic gas and particulae Spinning within the gaps of a blackened dome Of limitless space and out of control There is no telling what way it will go There is no prediction that has fortold Any number of moments in this tumbling slumber Between the darkest hell and the further horizon I so deftly advise you with all certification To please place your bets and fly by echolocation Your eyes will mislead, your ears will displease And there is no way we can refund divine warranties This machinery has a half life of quarks And energies that vibrate into other orbits Trajectories Retaining the spin and informative piece Of that golden goose let loose amongst the canopy Of dark, off into neverland, straight on Till new morning, Beyond the stars So please good sir don't migrate away from me I have so much to give and such pain I have seen Those that fatten their goose with **** till it quacks, Those ravenous souls who ate their gift for a snack, And when life finally cuts them down to their last, They will howl and yowl and pray that goose back. This is a game, Have a good little laugh Don't waste your time or your money On a daffy Aflack Policy that keeps you policed to the earth, No way to fly, Stuck in the dirt. That is no way to live in the dream, That is no way to let death trickle in So please, pretty please, make sure you have coverages And a couple extra dollars in the pocket of those jeans Wander freely, you great big atomic bomb, you. Do catastrophic damages and I'll pay your dues. Ride the road coast to coast, Fly a bird 'round the world, Take a truck till you're home, Find a love you can trust. Find a place where your egg And your legs seek nowhere else Lay down those roots, It's Eden or bust.
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Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC
I will insure your golden goose for $100k/$300k respectively
And I will make sure that if anything were to happen, It would do little to affect you. It's not everyday You find a goose that lays eggs With speckled jewels and golden flakes The world is full of incongruity And there's no doubt about the certainty That something bad may happen, And we don't want that, do we? So listen carefully. The world is a giant carboniferous spicule Hanging in a nest of hydroxic gas and particulae Spinning within the gaps of a blackened dome Of limitless space and out of control There is no telling what way it will go There is no prediction that has fortold Any number of moments in this tumbling slumber Between the darkest hell and the further horizon I so deftly advise you with all certification To please place your bets and fly by echolocation Your eyes will mislead, your ears will displease And there is no way we can refund divine warranties This machinery has a half life of quarks And energies that vibrate into other orbits Trajectories Retaining the spin and informative piece Of that golden goose let loose amongst the canopy Of dark, off into neverland, straight on Till new morning, Beyond the stars So please good sir don't migrate away from me I have so much to give and such pain I have seen Those that fatten their goose with **** till it quacks, Those ravenous souls who ate their gift for a snack, And when life finally cuts them down to their last, They will howl and yowl and pray that goose back. This is a game, Have a good little laugh Don't waste your time or your money On a daffy Aflack Policy that keeps you policed to the earth, No way to fly, Stuck in the dirt. That is no way to live in the dream, That is no way to let death trickle in So please, pretty please, make sure you have coverages And a couple extra dollars in the pocket of those jeans Wander freely, you great big atomic bomb, you. Do catastrophic damages and I'll pay your dues. Ride the road coast to coast, Fly a bird 'round the world, Take a truck till you're home, Find a love you can trust. Find a place where your egg And your legs seek nowhere else Lay down those roots, It's Eden or bust.
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59
Religion is Recruiting for Customer Complaints. Where is my God, the disciples and all the absent saints? The time I have invested sitting in your church. This wasn't in your advert you've left me in the lurch. I'm asking for a refund, you've years to reimburse and then there is the funeral, the flowers and the hearse. I've sat on your pew, spent time praying to you and now that I'm dead, I'm unsure what to do. I should have known better, you never replied. Yet I kept the faith until the day that I died. Now I queue to complain, I must be fuckin' insane! because, well, you don't even exist! Poetry by Kaydee.
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Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
Religion is Recruiting for Customer Complaints
In the burning right hand of the bald city, denizens frame calories and count instagram blessings while beacons of hope refund inspiration in USADA *** cups. Abyssinian maids wail over yesterday lovers who wore Ginsberg’s skirt with less  pizzazz and watched bedbugs **** blood off knee caps wondering, what if Jesus Christ drove a Nissan? As bullets of paragraphs fall Vietnamese pesticides on my head, The dusts off my breath sing homilies With letters of broken leather whiskey, For even in the most dishonest jest, clandestine toothbrushes are overrated and every first false lie is the only truth.
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Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 8:02 PM UTC
Who yawned the most head
What happened to the boy I was? Why did he run away? And leave me old and thinking, like There'd been no yesterday? What happened then? Was I that boy? Who laughed and swam in the bund* I there no going back? No recompense? Is there nothing? No refund?
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Indian Boyhood
Ah! You're already here I've been waiting dear This you have to hear It's somethin' to adhere It's tongues dried and lungs fried Not other way around And I don't refund So let's get down to what you want The tastes I own; the ones you'll flaunt Cracked bones and hacked jaws Charred toes and bottled gore From pickled hearts to private parts Just say the name, I've got it all Just take your time and think it through And when it's right I'll come find you It's been a while Did you decide? Just ditch your pride and speak your mind So it's 'crispy skin'? 'kay, I'll let you in Let's taste your kin Yes, it's not a sin
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Nov 22, 2020
Nov 22, 2020 at 12:28 PM UTC
~Acquired tastes~
I've been digging through this dumpster far too long trying to get to the bottom of it all. Slimey sweet stench there's my first love my first pipe my last light my first rush my last gush my first bet my last buck "the game ain't over until the rent money's gone." I am down a deep hole and my only tool is a shovel I've got that one choice but to go down down down. Drunk and dial Drunk and poetry how did I get here how do I get out? I'm a spiritual wasteland connected to no one connected to nothing My drug My man My woman My casino The rush comes first The numbness comes last until death, insanity or jail is within my grasp. I do what I do But I am allergic too you understand when I do what I do I break out in handcuffs jail cells strapped down to beds looking around longing for my dumpster and what I might have found. 1st Step 12th Step I've done them all though the 13th Step I liked the best Sponsors have come and gone Spiritual awakenings have all been done I am back in this dumpster where I had begun. There is an exquisite mystery at the heart of it all the internal shift happens an inside job The 21 year old's first black out enough is enough The 60 year old on his fifth DUI going out for one more round. It is true I have seen it many times Recovery can be found Hope restored Wisdom in these halls Peace within these walls The dumpster closed and left behind A ladder falls and arrives acceptance and gratitude combine as they say "One day at a time."
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Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
"We'll Gladly Refund Your Misery" A Tale of Relapse and Recovery
This morning we jogged early I was back in my flat by six-thirty From my tenth floor view of the Charles River basin, The morning was incandescently flushed by the peach-colored sun. The transparent clouds seemed stylistically stained, artfully workshopped, which offered a softened, Tiffany glass effect wholly worthy of worship. I can’t stop to admire it. I’m jamming things into suitcases. Cramming things into boxes, giving things away. I had a second interview Monday afternoon, for Johns Hopkins med school. They put the question to me: “The semester starts in 18 days - can you do that?” “Yes,” I replied, and just like that, I'm a Blue Jay. Of course, I had to withdraw from the masters program but Harvard gave me a full (95K) refund - I think they’re more excited about my med school admission than I am. I’m not afraid of discordant notes. They change the landscape. Take us to new emotional places. Any major work is going to have them. . . A song for this: Hang on Little Tomato by Pink Martini It's Amazing by Jem
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Jul 31, 2025
Jul 31, 2025 at 12:45 AM UTC
discordant notes
It's a heart on world with my sleeve steadily exposed A life line on a call line, dial 888 to be controlled Puppets on a string to compose this household The happier we'll be the more we're enclosed        Smaller spaces to lengthen the gap        Encircling our inner self control        Consuming what's left of the demons        Trying to get a refund on our soul        Love changes colors like a rhyme Smooth and easy Eyes like the darkness of time Slow and steady Yet we're still not ready for the fight Insanity walks through the door And just when the time is right Our beliefs slowly melt into the floor
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Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 3:42 AM UTC
Marionette Family Portrait
*numb, dumb **** is what we've become. **no return. no refund.**
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Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 3:26 PM UTC
numb, dumb **** (11w)
Our relationship is a rollercoaster It has ups and downs Twists and turns Whatever comes next I'm glad it's you by my side We're in this together My head is racing My heart is pounding I'm ready for it Twisted up inside Thrown through loops What are we doing It looked life fun from the outside Strapped in together It's me and you We've made this commitment Ride it until the end There is no getting off in the middle In it together Through the ups and downs Lefts and rights The ride isn't over We were having so much fun What happened It's still the same ride Nothing has changed Why does it feel so different Is this still the same ride Is it over Are we done The excitement is over The fun has ended No more ups and downs I've had enough This rolllercoaster ride is finished No refund No going back What's done Is done The ride has ended We have become We are Done
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Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 6:37 PM UTC
Rollercoaster
It is like some steampunk nightmare Where working overtime is a racket When what was time and a half pay On the day I get my check, I make less; Some kind of tax bracket scam thing Where working extra hours put me Into another category and increased The tax they use to grease the wheels Of a bloated government that hates me. Maybe that dates me and it isn’t true; That things have changed and it is No longer arranged that way. And maybe The way things became done was that I got it all back as a refund. But isn’t that Redundant, that I had to pay it to them To use it like per diem for their games? The shame is that I chafed and did nothing Besides ******** and frothing at the mouth. It’s not like I could go south to Ensenada, Buy a piñata that looked like Mickey Mouse, It was just that the house always wins. But I have to pay for my tiny, mundane sins. Why don’t they? Why does it go on and on And then the money’s gone and I pay more The next time some fat ***** of a politician Begins a petition to increase their slice And nicely reduce ours to a pittance So low there is no admittance to a show Or enough to replace a car that is a wreck? The albatross around my neck gets larger As it I move farther from the day it died Even though I have tried standing up straighter. It’s The Grand Guignol Theatre that life is And the strife is to not let it get me down; To be the happy clown and not the sad one In a game that was begun to make me lose. I am not confused. I see it, but it seems Even in dreams I get no kind of relief From a governmental thief with immunity; The pillages with impunity and teases That he does what he pleases. Neener, neener What in hell could possibly be meaner?
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May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 6:32 AM UTC
THE ALBATROSS
It is like some steampunk nightmare Where working overtime is a racket When what was time and a half pay On the day I get my check, I make less; Some kind of tax bracket scam thing Where working extra hours put me Into another category and increased The tax they use to grease the wheels Of a bloated government that hates me. Maybe that dates me and it isn’t true; That things have changed and it is No longer arranged that way. And maybe The way things became done was that I got it all back as a refund. But isn’t that Redundant, that I had to pay it to them To use it like per diem for their games? The shame is that I chafed and did nothing Besides ******** and frothing at the mouth. It’s not like I could go south to Ensenada, Buy a piñata that looked like Mickey Mouse, It was just that the house always wins. But I have to pay for my tiny, mundane sins. Why don’t they? Why does it go on and on And then the money’s gone and I pay more The next time some fat ***** of a politician Begins a petition to increase their slice And nicely reduce ours to a pittance So low there is no admittance to a show Or enough to replace a car that is a wreck? The albatross around my neck gets larger As it I move farther from the day it died Even though I have tried standing up straighter. It’s The Grand Guignol Theatre that life is And the strife is to not let it get me down; To be the happy clown and not the sad one In a game that was begun to make me lose. I am not confused. I see it, but it seems Even in dreams I get no kind of relief From a governmental thief with immunity; The pillages with impunity and teases That he does what he pleases. Neener, neener What in hell could possibly be meaner?
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42
It's funny how people say for others "Don't judge a book by its cover". Honey, I've read the whole series - I still want my refund, Believe me, that story never got interesting nor pretty. It was comfort when you're feeling down, It was home when no one else was around, It was fun, when you needed a good time to laugh. Why I want a refund you'd ask? The magic forest isn't just pretty fairies and unicorns, right? So was this book. Cover ain't pretty, but we don't judge it - we give it a try. Yet, under all the magic, there's something scary, that could make you lose your pride. Ugly witches, goblins, trolls, but isn't the forest also their home? Story can't always be bright, But when the dark consumes all the light, the book is no longer your anchor. The pages contain ungly spells that make you feel like you're reading something else. One of the trolls probably tried to trick me - he succeeded. Can't believe once I've said this book was everything I needed. Could be the troll, could be the narrator, could be just me, but the comforting fairy tale, is no longer what it used to be. And I believe you feel the same way as me, as this was our first and last journey, cause the story got way too ugly so we both decided that it's just not worth it. So, you see, I didn't judge it before, nor will I do it now. Yet, I'd like to bring it all back, wishing I've never read that series nor reach its finale.
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Jun 20, 2022
Jun 20, 2022 at 8:19 AM UTC
"Don't judge a book by its cover"
I don't have a filing cabinet, I've emptied all the drawers; Lugged it through my clearing house, Then gleefully through the  door. The **** thing's out for pick up. Each drawer was filled with files: Insurance forms for cars and bikes, Gone this long while; Health receipts for healthy lives, Warranties and refund lies, Transcripts from a former life, Lesson plans and records, Some pics of you and me. All shredded, bagged and tightly tied, And ready for the street. I'm finding some relief. If only I could do the same With memories of you.
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Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 9:27 AM UTC
File It
For far too long we have been victims of police brutality. We came in peace but got treated like criminals on the 21st of October. These are the very same men and women who we trust to protect us. But they failed us dismally, barricaded us from expressing our concerns. You could see the visuals all on TV, it was all too hard to believe. The revolution will not be fully televised, it will be tweeted. For far too long we’ve accepted the government’s mediocrity. For far too long we’ve been victims of police brutality. Your teargas, rubber bullets and stun grenades will never stop us. Our parents were sold dreams in 1994, we’re just here for the refund. Now it’s time to finally bump the cheese up, so what’s the hold-up for? History is repeating itself in South Africa, what a time to be alive. They’ve become worse than their oppressors but they won’t oppress us. Sorry for the inconvenience, we are just trying to change the world. We will keep protesting in Jo’burg, Pretoria and Cape Town until we’re heard. There’s no amount of police brutality that can dampen our spirits and no gun you make can **** our souls. Our parents were sold dreams in 1994, we’re just here for the refund. Now it’s time to finally bump the cheese up, so why is there a hold-up? Hold up, we’re tired of being victims of hate, fate and police brutality. We came in peace but got treated like criminals on the 23rd of October. For far too long we’ve accepted the government’s mediocrity. Your riot police, rubber bullets and stun grenades will never stop us. Sorry for the inconvenience, we are just trying to change the world. When burning buildings come down, I just hope you’ll be ready for us all. When burning buildings come down, we will effortlessly heed the call.
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Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 6:21 AM UTC
Burning Buildings
For far too long we have been victims of police brutality. We came in peace but got treated like criminals on the 21st of October. These are the very same men and women who we trust to protect us. But they failed us dismally, barricaded us from expressing our concerns. You could see the visuals all on TV, it was all too hard to believe. The revolution will not be fully televised, it will be tweeted. For far too long we’ve accepted the government’s mediocrity. For far too long we’ve been victims of police brutality. Your teargas, rubber bullets and stun grenades will never stop us. Our parents were sold dreams in 1994, we’re just here for the refund. Now it’s time to finally bump the cheese up, so what’s the hold-up for? History is repeating itself in South Africa, what a time to be alive. They’ve become worse than their oppressors but they won’t oppress us. Sorry for the inconvenience, we are just trying to change the world. We will keep protesting in Jo’burg, Pretoria and Cape Town until we’re heard. There’s no amount of police brutality that can dampen our spirits and no gun you make can **** our souls. Our parents were sold dreams in 1994, we’re just here for the refund. Now it’s time to finally bump the cheese up, so why is there a hold-up? Hold up, we’re tired of being victims of hate, fate and police brutality. We came in peace but got treated like criminals on the 23rd of October. For far too long we’ve accepted the government’s mediocrity. Your riot police, rubber bullets and stun grenades will never stop us. Sorry for the inconvenience, we are just trying to change the world. When burning buildings come down, I just hope you’ll be ready for us all. When burning buildings come down, we will effortlessly heed the call.
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25
Truth be told, I probably need therapy, or counselling I'm not sure. But I'm not going to get involved in that. So instead I go to a karate class twice a week. And it's a good outlet for anger. Just imagine the person or thing you're currently mad at and go crazy. Punch, kick, fight! Make it known that you are blazing mad! Don't back down until you have won! When the class is over, you're probably tired, you've used a lot of your energy, so you can maybe sleep your anger off. But somedays, you rage does not give up, it sticks with you and you're still not satisfied with the service, you want a refund? Well too bad, you don't get one! Remember, this is not a real therapy session... Maybe I should go into therapy -- or counselling. Because even if you fight with all your rage and anger and hate, you won't win a fight if the person you're mad at -- If the person you are fighting... Is yourself.
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Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 9:51 PM UTC
Karate Anger Management
Ray Lewis, your spokesman is ripped and he's lean. He's built like Adonis and, by rep, very mean. If I use "old Spice" body wash as per his advice. The ladies will swoon as I'll smell so **** nice. I'm short fat and Jewish- a Nebbish at heart. In intimate settings I'm quite prone to **** So I bought "Old Spice" body wash and lathered it on. Then I entered the bedroom and said "Babe, bring it on!" Olive, my lover of many a year was less than impressed when I deigned to appear. A giggle, a chuckle and then a guffaw My confidence sagged like my double chinned jaw. "Darling, it may be you smell like Ray Lewis but when my eyes open You're short fat and Jewish." The ad was misleading and I feel like a fool Not a mensch, more a reject from a shallow gene pool. Bad enough that the store on my refund is reneging. foreplay now requires two hours of begging.
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May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
OLD SPICE
I went into the pro shop Paid my fees and turned to leave The man behind the counter said "you're new here...I believe" I said I'd never played here He said "there's things that you should know" "I'll grab us both a coffee" "Listen close...before you go" "The first two holes are easy" "nothing there gets in the way" "no bunkers, and no water" "just the way to start the day" "It gets tougher on the third hole" "There's some birds up in the trees" "They buzz you while you're putting" "Remember...birds on three" "The fourth hole is a dog leg" "It has a river on the right" 'Avoid the yellow caution tape" "We had a drowning there last night" I swallowed hard and stared back "A drowning out on four" "That's right" he said "don't worry" "At least it's not the wild boar" "The WILD BOAR?" I said aloud He said "he's on five through seven" "Don't worry much on those holes" "He's been sighted on eleven" "The eighth is fairy simple" "A par three that you can reach" "Water moccasins in the swamp" "And lots of spiders in the beach" "The greens are all receptive" "They hold well, just come in high" 'But, land is short...there's quicksand" "So...go in there...you die" "you make the turn, and grab a dog" "I give them out for free" "The owner says it's wasteful" "But, I say...just let it be" "The tenth hole is a par five" "It' one to reach in two" "But if you put it out of bounds" "I'd leave it...if I were you" "you know about the wild boar" "so eleven gets a pass" "he's got some bite, that sumbitch" "He might gore you in the *** "Now twelve...is quite a pickle" "I'll tell you watch out now.....not later" "We have a situation there" "It's fairway's full of gator" "What the hell is that you say" "There's a gator out there then" "Today there is but somedays son" "You can meet as much as ten" "You must be mad" I yelled at him "I'm leaving...I'll not play" "on a course so full of danger" "There's no way...just no way" I asked him for a refund he pointed up above his head "no refunds, only rainchecks" "and then only if you're dead" I sacrificed my forty bucks And left, out to my car The pro just sat and smiled "I've scared off thirty one so far" I know I'll not return here not with friends or by myself not with spiders in the bunkers Or gators on the twelfth.
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Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 11:12 AM UTC
Hazard on twelve
I went into the pro shop Paid my fees and turned to leave The man behind the counter said "you're new here...I believe" I said I'd never played here He said "there's things that you should know" "I'll grab us both a coffee" "Listen close...before you go" "The first two holes are easy" "nothing there gets in the way" "no bunkers, and no water" "just the way to start the day" "It gets tougher on the third hole" "There's some birds up in the trees" "They buzz you while you're putting" "Remember...birds on three" "The fourth hole is a dog leg" "It has a river on the right" 'Avoid the yellow caution tape" "We had a drowning there last night" I swallowed hard and stared back "A drowning out on four" "That's right" he said "don't worry" "At least it's not the wild boar" "The WILD BOAR?" I said aloud He said "he's on five through seven" "Don't worry much on those holes" "He's been sighted on eleven" "The eighth is fairy simple" "A par three that you can reach" "Water moccasins in the swamp" "And lots of spiders in the beach" "The greens are all receptive" "They hold well, just come in high" 'But, land is short...there's quicksand" "So...go in there...you die" "you make the turn, and grab a dog" "I give them out for free" "The owner says it's wasteful" "But, I say...just let it be" "The tenth hole is a par five" "It' one to reach in two" "But if you put it out of bounds" "I'd leave it...if I were you" "you know about the wild boar" "so eleven gets a pass" "he's got some bite, that sumbitch" "He might gore you in the *** "Now twelve...is quite a pickle" "I'll tell you watch out now.....not later" "We have a situation there" "It's fairway's full of gator" "What the hell is that you say" "There's a gator out there then" "Today there is but somedays son" "You can meet as much as ten" "You must be mad" I yelled at him "I'm leaving...I'll not play" "on a course so full of danger" "There's no way...just no way" I asked him for a refund he pointed up above his head "no refunds, only rainchecks" "and then only if you're dead" I sacrificed my forty bucks And left, out to my car The pro just sat and smiled "I've scared off thirty one so far" I know I'll not return here not with friends or by myself not with spiders in the bunkers Or gators on the twelfth.
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72
I thought, "holy **** man, look at yourself". The only change I ever witnessed for 3 years was the scrapings left ringing out on the bar rail. Always reaching out to a pocket for god and finding nothing. "I guess you can't refund the drinks, right?" She didn't laugh. I watched my circle get smaller, tired of the antics and my drinking became the **** of a joke. I watched my circle get smaller, my vision blurred like the future lining with a black viginette and with every drink I watched the bartender familiarize. Another? tap tap an empty bottle uses its manners and mine, with a painted smile. Until close she would become my therapist, and the salary was almost the same for the two after I left. After close the cooks offered sympathetic invites and lackluster conversations at the strip club next door. They laughed and drank and like ***** hawks watched their prey scale a poll like the fire they were fighting was inside. I saw no spark, no love given, no love received. I found it hard to love, when hating myself was the only thing I loved to feel. The grease stained fries were tickling the back of my throat on the last night I went. I found myself puking next to a coke head doing key bumps and I asked through hiccups "does the smell back here not bother you?" he said "what smell?". I wiped my mouth and stumbled home somehow. I kicked broken pieces of pavement and scoffed at the curb-sides hugging garbage. I realized through the streetlights that my shadow wasn't the only darkness following me at night. Out of cigarettes and out of my mind I resented this city for having so many bridges. The screaming trucks below gave some sort of comfort with my feet tangling with the breeze. The stretching hands from out-of-place highway trees grabbed at me and I felt the world rotating. The night that changed me, a three am crosswalk flashed its hand at me, but I kept walking.
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Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 9:30 AM UTC
Bar Past
I thought, "holy **** man, look at yourself". The only change I ever witnessed for 3 years was the scrapings left ringing out on the bar rail. Always reaching out to a pocket for god and finding nothing. "I guess you can't refund the drinks, right?" She didn't laugh. I watched my circle get smaller, tired of the antics and my drinking became the **** of a joke. I watched my circle get smaller, my vision blurred like the future lining with a black viginette and with every drink I watched the bartender familiarize. Another? tap tap an empty bottle uses its manners and mine, with a painted smile. Until close she would become my therapist, and the salary was almost the same for the two after I left. After close the cooks offered sympathetic invites and lackluster conversations at the strip club next door. They laughed and drank and like ***** hawks watched their prey scale a poll like the fire they were fighting was inside. I saw no spark, no love given, no love received. I found it hard to love, when hating myself was the only thing I loved to feel. The grease stained fries were tickling the back of my throat on the last night I went. I found myself puking next to a coke head doing key bumps and I asked through hiccups "does the smell back here not bother you?" he said "what smell?". I wiped my mouth and stumbled home somehow. I kicked broken pieces of pavement and scoffed at the curb-sides hugging garbage. I realized through the streetlights that my shadow wasn't the only darkness following me at night. Out of cigarettes and out of my mind I resented this city for having so many bridges. The screaming trucks below gave some sort of comfort with my feet tangling with the breeze. The stretching hands from out-of-place highway trees grabbed at me and I felt the world rotating. The night that changed me, a three am crosswalk flashed its hand at me, but I kept walking.
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1
you say im all work, No play maybe it is because i want immature kids to hear what ive got to say, you know what **** you im gonna tell all of you what to Do instead of saying i love more than one guy, why dont you just call me a ***** here i will open up the door, dynamite ill win this fight Hell no... i dont wanna see you die it will make poor joey and Nathaniel cry im in pain dont you see ill show all you haters what Hell is really meant to be because i have lived in it ive been through nothing compared to your **** but like i said im done you can have you refund
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Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 1:52 PM UTC
let me get this straight
I have this magnificent puzzle hanging on my wall that I made years ago. I can’t remember exactly but I think it’s 797 pieces Yes that’s right 797 Because there’s pieces missing. All sky pieces, one sky piece toward the top and over to the left and two over to the right. They stick out like sore thumbs and everyone comments on them. Like I hadn’t seen it before. “Do you know you’re missing a few pieces of your puzzle there?” they ask. Some even look at the floor to see if somehow they had miracoulsly wormed their way out from between the glass and card backing and fell to the ground. Because obviously it must have happened since last time I vacuumed. So I just shrug and tell them that I know. And I tell them that they’ve always been missing, even when I framed it, they weren’t there. This at least stops them looking at the floor. Quite often they’ll tell me that I should have taken it back and got my money back or got a different puzzle. One with 800 pieces instead of 797. But I tell them no. I like my 797 piece puzzle. I like it because it reminds me of life. Just because life is missing a piece or two you don’t put it back in the box and return it for a refund or a different one or throw it away. Just because you put a lot of work into life and find out that there’s pieces missing you don’t just scrap it. You should adapt to life with missing pieces. You should be making the best of it and be proud of its uniqueness. It especially reminds me of my life My life is incomplete, my life is missing a few things, but the views pretty good. And every now and then you’ll catch me looking around for those missing pieces, it’s a habit I guess.
0
Sep 18, 2010
Sep 18, 2010 at 8:19 PM UTC
797 pieces
I have this magnificent puzzle hanging on my wall that I made years ago. I can’t remember exactly but I think it’s 797 pieces Yes that’s right 797 Because there’s pieces missing. All sky pieces, one sky piece toward the top and over to the left and two over to the right. They stick out like sore thumbs and everyone comments on them. Like I hadn’t seen it before. “Do you know you’re missing a few pieces of your puzzle there?” they ask. Some even look at the floor to see if somehow they had miracoulsly wormed their way out from between the glass and card backing and fell to the ground. Because obviously it must have happened since last time I vacuumed. So I just shrug and tell them that I know. And I tell them that they’ve always been missing, even when I framed it, they weren’t there. This at least stops them looking at the floor. Quite often they’ll tell me that I should have taken it back and got my money back or got a different puzzle. One with 800 pieces instead of 797. But I tell them no. I like my 797 piece puzzle. I like it because it reminds me of life. Just because life is missing a piece or two you don’t put it back in the box and return it for a refund or a different one or throw it away. Just because you put a lot of work into life and find out that there’s pieces missing you don’t just scrap it. You should adapt to life with missing pieces. You should be making the best of it and be proud of its uniqueness. It especially reminds me of my life My life is incomplete, my life is missing a few things, but the views pretty good. And every now and then you’ll catch me looking around for those missing pieces, it’s a habit I guess.
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21
Coca-cola has the taste you never get tired of, always refreshing, thats why things go better with coke after coke after joke Is this a joke Cola-Coke I musta mispoke Coke. Blow your smoke and my heart evoke Mr. Coke Mr. Coke Strong as an oak I swear, you tryna provoke I’m being short-changed Changed by the pain of empty wallets and weight gain Is this the dope or just coke in my Brain veins Cause I swear e’re time it rains I get a little bit stickier with that sugar sweet fresh, ahhhhh taste you just can’t beat Without a drink my meal ain’t complete I trick or treat for that bittersweet flavor that makes my heart wanna beat Say bye, wave hi to e’re passerby that I meet I’m incomplete Is what they want me to think And so i drink I drink and I'm filled I drink and I’m thrilled Just to be a little part in their bigger party Seein only things that they want me to see I nod to agree I read the marquee Lock down and guarantee But I’m still nobody Nobody to you and nobody to me and now I see they WANT me to spend money But I’ll spell it out for you M-O-N-E-(WHY) do I buy things I feel a certain way Why do I buy things I had a bad day I think I buy cause I’m worthess gotta validate and purchase my purpose And coke’s throwin me inna circus of life, liberty and the pursuit of happy times But it's hard to pay your way with nickels and dimes but I can refund this bottle for 5 cents or break it, and it be my defense How does that make sense Now I’m on the fence Do I buy another bottle or a six-pack for the road I don’t really know when it comes to cola-coke coca-cola sugar sweet can’t be beat Will that be debit or credit Our chip reader doesn’t work See you tomorrow Mr. Coke
0
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 1:54 AM UTC
Cola-Coke
Coca-cola has the taste you never get tired of, always refreshing, thats why things go better with coke after coke after joke Is this a joke Cola-Coke I musta mispoke Coke. Blow your smoke and my heart evoke Mr. Coke Mr. Coke Strong as an oak I swear, you tryna provoke I’m being short-changed Changed by the pain of empty wallets and weight gain Is this the dope or just coke in my Brain veins Cause I swear e’re time it rains I get a little bit stickier with that sugar sweet fresh, ahhhhh taste you just can’t beat Without a drink my meal ain’t complete I trick or treat for that bittersweet flavor that makes my heart wanna beat Say bye, wave hi to e’re passerby that I meet I’m incomplete Is what they want me to think And so i drink I drink and I'm filled I drink and I’m thrilled Just to be a little part in their bigger party Seein only things that they want me to see I nod to agree I read the marquee Lock down and guarantee But I’m still nobody Nobody to you and nobody to me and now I see they WANT me to spend money But I’ll spell it out for you M-O-N-E-(WHY) do I buy things I feel a certain way Why do I buy things I had a bad day I think I buy cause I’m worthess gotta validate and purchase my purpose And coke’s throwin me inna circus of life, liberty and the pursuit of happy times But it's hard to pay your way with nickels and dimes but I can refund this bottle for 5 cents or break it, and it be my defense How does that make sense Now I’m on the fence Do I buy another bottle or a six-pack for the road I don’t really know when it comes to cola-coke coca-cola sugar sweet can’t be beat Will that be debit or credit Our chip reader doesn’t work See you tomorrow Mr. Coke
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70
Shelter me like I'm "homeless"....... Not be a use I don't have an address..... Merely because if home houses your heart.... There is a missing poster on the back of your ***** bottle.... Like the mistake on the bark where I once carved " true love".... Happiness became of parking lot no occupied by strangers Like titles reflect the hierarchy of spots closest to your heart Methamphetamine now occupies the spot reserved for mom, dad and best friend But time is a magician pulling white rabbits from memories ...... Where your the only audience members and you can only ask "how?"..... But like tricks fade into logic i always see the illusion And memories become anger against the fraudulent belief in "time" Grief is not a one night event where disbelief could refund your happiness.... And forgive ushers who now seem more like drug dealers.... Because the best seat they could offer only got you closer to regret Life is the greatest notice pinned on a corkboard in shady establishments Where the small print cannot be read at a passing glance So later on in the alley where you self medicate..... The dumpster contains the poster you so blindly believed..... Now you see the possible outcome to the " greatest show on earth"..... Professionals on a closed course...... trained professionals should not be attempted at home..... And I guess like I already said if my heart is "home"..... Then as an amateur on life's stage I'll leave actors like happiness, success and bliss to wow people at a great expense..... But like a fool I invested every hope I saved into them..... Now I'm bankrupt and homeless staring from the alley between life and death... But the best part about next door is its free.... And must be worth the cost... no one ever seems to come out.....
0
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 8:54 PM UTC
heart is home.... spoken word
Shelter me like I'm "homeless"....... Not be a use I don't have an address..... Merely because if home houses your heart.... There is a missing poster on the back of your ***** bottle.... Like the mistake on the bark where I once carved " true love".... Happiness became of parking lot no occupied by strangers Like titles reflect the hierarchy of spots closest to your heart Methamphetamine now occupies the spot reserved for mom, dad and best friend But time is a magician pulling white rabbits from memories ...... Where your the only audience members and you can only ask "how?"..... But like tricks fade into logic i always see the illusion And memories become anger against the fraudulent belief in "time" Grief is not a one night event where disbelief could refund your happiness.... And forgive ushers who now seem more like drug dealers.... Because the best seat they could offer only got you closer to regret Life is the greatest notice pinned on a corkboard in shady establishments Where the small print cannot be read at a passing glance So later on in the alley where you self medicate..... The dumpster contains the poster you so blindly believed..... Now you see the possible outcome to the " greatest show on earth"..... Professionals on a closed course...... trained professionals should not be attempted at home..... And I guess like I already said if my heart is "home"..... Then as an amateur on life's stage I'll leave actors like happiness, success and bliss to wow people at a great expense..... But like a fool I invested every hope I saved into them..... Now I'm bankrupt and homeless staring from the alley between life and death... But the best part about next door is its free.... And must be worth the cost... no one ever seems to come out.....
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27
Material objects tempt you To leave your mildewy rags in the rearview I know who can help you, he'll be here soon Meaning he's arriving you just gotta sign this Contractually obligating your silence It's not science Even a blind ***** would find this Excitin' See he's taken an interest in ya thighs and how ya roll ya eyes like you know it all But trust me when the dough's involved no ya don't Your just tossing out them bills Throwing em out like it gives you a thrill Gives me chills, when the heats shut off Coughing and coughing, I'm getting sick Waiting on that **** lickity split Pass it around, I'm losing it This ******** piling higher, I'm getting higher Jumping out the window like that **** on fire Waiting on a refund for all the time spent No dimes or dollars even make a dent Remorseful, with a side of content Wait up ***** aint they raisin your rent You need a sugar daddy not a diabetic Let him take away your woes with a couple franklins Getcha takin off clothes at his banks expense Sayin that you bad, need a spankin then And since you want attention this is what you get Hard **** and love are two different things but watch me blur the lines like the drink you sip I've never been good with relationships   And I lie tryna hide I'm fake as **** But come to the bedroom Got money and head room just so we dont drown when the blankets wet Afterwards you smoke get your makeup fixed Ask about bank while I take a **** Throw you twenty to make complaining quit Do i smell like money, honey? Take a whiff I smell something, it aint no money You wanna play? Imma need more than some stacks and some grass to want yo *** This aint no game of tic tac toe Three in a row aint gonna beat my woes You're reaping what you sow Can't just throw out them bills no mo It's rich, but you're not You thought you had what you bought But I walked, watch your wallet Cause it can't cash your ******** This aint a relationship Save it, I aint falling for **** You aint having it your way But I'm lovin it
0
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC
GoalDigger ~~~ Collaboration with DaSH
Material objects tempt you To leave your mildewy rags in the rearview I know who can help you, he'll be here soon Meaning he's arriving you just gotta sign this Contractually obligating your silence It's not science Even a blind ***** would find this Excitin' See he's taken an interest in ya thighs and how ya roll ya eyes like you know it all But trust me when the dough's involved no ya don't Your just tossing out them bills Throwing em out like it gives you a thrill Gives me chills, when the heats shut off Coughing and coughing, I'm getting sick Waiting on that **** lickity split Pass it around, I'm losing it This ******** piling higher, I'm getting higher Jumping out the window like that **** on fire Waiting on a refund for all the time spent No dimes or dollars even make a dent Remorseful, with a side of content Wait up ***** aint they raisin your rent You need a sugar daddy not a diabetic Let him take away your woes with a couple franklins Getcha takin off clothes at his banks expense Sayin that you bad, need a spankin then And since you want attention this is what you get Hard **** and love are two different things but watch me blur the lines like the drink you sip I've never been good with relationships   And I lie tryna hide I'm fake as **** But come to the bedroom Got money and head room just so we dont drown when the blankets wet Afterwards you smoke get your makeup fixed Ask about bank while I take a **** Throw you twenty to make complaining quit Do i smell like money, honey? Take a whiff I smell something, it aint no money You wanna play? Imma need more than some stacks and some grass to want yo *** This aint no game of tic tac toe Three in a row aint gonna beat my woes You're reaping what you sow Can't just throw out them bills no mo It's rich, but you're not You thought you had what you bought But I walked, watch your wallet Cause it can't cash your ******** This aint a relationship Save it, I aint falling for **** You aint having it your way But I'm lovin it
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55