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e Jul 2014
You towed your broken down
beat up, used, rusted old
Chevy into my workshop
smelling like crap, and looking a whole lot worse
she had a busted engine
sputtered like a plane
(but not in a good way)
you leaked black oil all over my floors
stains of which I still can’t remove
no matter how many gallons of bleach I use
the radiator, well let’s just say
had seen better days
the interior leather seats were torn
and the once slick body
looked like you had *******
some mafia kingpin
so I spent my days and nights
greased up and elbow deep,
in your muck trying desperately,
but lovingly
to do what a mechanic does best
and I was leaking time
like I owned it, when I could’ve
should’ve found a more profitable fixer upper
I told myself, no convinced myself otherwise
and eventually, against the odds,
fixed you
then some schmo walks in
a bulging from both pockets
from wads of cash
and grabs you right outta my hands
the you I returned
to a shiny beauty as best I could
with the tools I had
well then, maybe I did fix you
I just never realised, I was doing it
for someone else.
Alexandra of Old Dec 2012
Laetitia
A trilling name
A wack-a-mole
Incompatible yet true

Go on and bust 'a move ol' suga' mama
Make your poppadipops proud!
And don't disregard Dr. Carlisle Bartholomeue Schmo
To lift your wings as you undulate
Through human sized stalks of rye, wheat,
Whatever the young call it nowadays

And fly to the heights
Of a tall sandy-haired boy
Brent Kincaid Apr 2018
You gossiped around
And you put him down
Since he wasn’t as rough
Was in no way as tough
As other guys were acting
You continued the trashing.
Bullying is always in fashion.
Alawys some wimp needs mashing.

His clothes were impeccable.
You found that despicable.
He kept himself neat and clean
You did with that something mean.
He was good at sport games
You reviled him just the same.
He got high grades in classes
Still you all acted like *****.

He won awards, your taunts tripled,
It couldn’t be worse if he was crippled.
We can see now his incipient fame;
You never let up with the ugly names.
An A student, who never did wrong
You let bullies lead you along,
Another poor schmo for you to dismember;
What do you suppose he will remember?

Will you suddenly call him friend
When school and the torture ends?
Will you go see his lectures and shows?
Isn’t that the way it always goes?
Suddenly the bullies are good guys?
And you think nobody ever catches wise?
Go on and hope that is how it goes.
He’s an elegant guy. So, who knows?
Joliver Oct 2015
When I am described

Average is a common word

Just another person

Just another face in the crowd

Just… Me.

But aren’t I?

Me: The only true word to describe myself

I am me

But I try not to be

When they stare or laugh

There is no one I’d rather be less

Than me

I hear their voices talking

About that dreaded person

Me

But the voices aren’t real, in my head

And still...

But I’m just like you

Or at least close enough

But to anyone else

Just being myself

A sin, a crime

But at the same time

They couldn’t care less

Just me, just another lost soul in this messed up place

Looking for love, receiving none

Caring to a fault

But, that isn’t me

It couldn’t be!

Not for what they see

A character, an extra

Seen, not heard

With no explanation

As to why he’s there, or who he is

Ordinary in every way

Slightly above average at best

But, I lower my gaze

My time alone has ended

No more out loud thoughts of dejected rejection

I shut my mouth, bow my head

I need my rest

After what wasn't said…

I, am Me

The average schmo, I’d rather not be
Unstoppable is the Aires
Whose pride held high she carries
Don't anger the Ram
Just tell her, "yes ma'am"
Or end up as smashed berries

Stong as the bull is the Taurus
A heart that remains adventurous
His only downturn
He can be stubborn
Don't bring out his inner Chuck Noris

My brother is a Gemini
Whose limits bound past the sky
When you see the twin
As his true kingpin
Kiss your arguments good-bye

Cancer is a fancy crab
Hosting parties that are fab
Not part of their clique
You're just a fish stick
A friendship you have to grab

A lover is the Lion
Affection you can not buy in
wouldn't you know
I'm talkin' of Leo
A shorter mane he is tryin'

I've never liked a Virgo
I'm sorry if you're a Virgo
You claim you're the ******
I claim I'm a surgeon
I still don't like the Virgo

Libra represents the scales
Whose beauty and love prevails
In search of balance
Finds silence
When equality and justice fails

Handsome is the Scorpio
A heart as cold as icy snow
With a body, aesthetic
and a voice so magnetic
He'll flirt with any schmo

Sagittarius the Archer
Gives honesty by nature
Reckless arguments,
Preaching documents
Can leave you on the floor

Ambitions is the goat
Whose public image they will gloat
A strong Capricorn
Is never torn
For loyalty they tote

The Water Bearer Aquarius
Of her friends she is gregarious
Guarded and detached
Her heart can be unlatched
And I find her hilarious

Pisces is a mystery
Who lives a life of fantasy
Represented as a Fish
A face you cannot miss
With a long romantic history
Alex Hanna Jun 2018
Heavy eyes
tired sighs
one more day
for me to rise
above the noise
I have no choice
but to find
my lost voice

get off the floor
you're so much more
I cannot be here anymore
find a door and go
tired of hearing no
from every Joe Schmo
and John Doe
who think they know
how high or how low
I can go
down that road
before my tires blow
before I explode
no!

not again
don't pretend
this is not where my story ends
my saga continues
my journey extends
because of the steady hands you lend
when I am down
half in the ground
just me and my shovel
no hope to be found
you find a way
to share one more day
I pray
you'll stay
'til tomorrow is today

'til I know that I am safe
but I know you must go
so go
leave
I have to let go
I have to believe
I can do this on my own
I may stumble on stones
moan and groan
speak in tongues unknown
but forward I move
and groove
until I prove
that I can do this on my own
It ain't gonna be me the stinking state pigs will be a-cuffin' because
I ain't licensed at nothin,' not even bakin' a sweet, California muffin
with big raisins, orange sprinkles & whatever else I feel like stuffin'
so as not to yank out prematurely before I gets more than enough in
Sometimes I cry as pigeons peck my *******, other times I just tell
them to stop it & not to do it ever again because I don't like it much
Fattened cows ate our tomatoes & starving pigs then ate our posies,
so don't you dare take a huge, reekin' **** on our colorful tea cozies
'cause lovin' you's like fressing cherry pie from a gal with 1 bad eye
while I sit cocked sideways needing a yardstick 'cause I ain't so shy
Mary Ellen Judy Norton Taylor Walton your ******* are too flabby,
so I will go down on your furry tuft below, that I jokingly call tabby
as Judy suffers from, & is afflicted with, an obtusion of farm senses
that interrupt her monthly charges regardin' normal-flowing ******
For Hef's ******* Judy was feverishly hot on a bear rug naked bare
after flinging aside T.V. pretend bro' Jim Bob's farm-boy underwear
that he wore when they rocked the house in grandma's rockin' chair
1 day I was viewing The Keiser Report starring ugly ol' Max Keiser
which would detract from my sexiness yet make me so much wiser,
& cause great-toe-jammin'-pecker stiffness & irritate either eye sore
while grindin' down 4 canines, 8 premolars & a middlemost incisor
I'll sing 8 days on the road in my big truck like I'm ol' Dave Dudley
running from Jesus God and hiding with waitresses as I rave studly
of a manly prowess using stiff asphalt laid thickly to pave mud free
like the wife support payments forked over by singer Neil Diamond
that would be burdensome to a poorer Jew like the shill Neil Simon
Boldness & beauty, blackness & blue, I am stupid, just not like you
'cause as my cornflakes sog in milk, I don't sell my nuts for a *****
anywhere where life spells death there is a cloudy heaven to pursue
It was hard push, yank & pull, talk ***** to me don't talk ***** to me
I like you or likely I love you, I try too much, better just wait & see,
while I give up at changing you into the woman I long for you to be
in the image that schmo Bobby Darin wanted for ****** Sandra Dee
whose big ******-numbed ******* nursed Bobbie's raw-milk brutality
pitched on a bowling lane of broken-leg bone & severed-hand ****
what made him stolidly 910 million times more serenely handsome
under the guilty shadow of the gay Bruce Jenner gender switcheroo

that could very well be his surgical whoops slip up Waterloo before

he would sexcite sike **** Hillary Clinton's homosexy affairs anew
whilst his hot peas thawed, hair pack jelled & old girl caught a clue
beyond clues given for cows driven to spit up cud for another chew
in kingdom halls where witnesses disfellowship guys seen fartin' &
queer-drunk on Mexi-gasser beans poured from a lime-green carton
that was endorsed by ******-ball Dino Crocetti A.K.A. Dean Martin
who liked pancakes, hotcakes & flapjacks with blackstrap molasses
as he denied hotcakes for burnt pancakes, griddlecakes & flapjacks
& proctologic exams for nothing that probed his chafed crap cracks
that looks like a flounder, that with a *** cleaver, a crazy *** hacks
at my red wiener, warty cucumber, candle stick & old orange carrot
as witnessed by my chimp, quokka, gerbil & clipped African parrot
that is so selfish with gooily-raw rat meat that he'll not even share it
with the hack Bob Browning & his ***** monkey Elizabeth Barrett
****** hid her vaginal emptiness from Richard Cory, Kyle S. Bruce,
Daisy Lou & Garett Hobart's lost nephew whose quarry tile is loose
You screamed like an unwashed **** when I pinched your lard ***,
I can't stomach your sister, because she is such a whining, hard lass
conjuring up old Crowley occultism, but what makes her the worst,
she wants me to sign a ****** suicide pact that states that I die first
as self-****** is a sin & she cares little about my soul being cursed
in realms that count not among its angels William Randolph Hearst
& Marion Davies & accused wife-snuffin' millionaire Robert Durst
whose hunger for Malay tail was sadder than greasers dyin' of thirst
I slumber in greenish ***** ill puked hard *****-woozy & drunken
too sick to down gooey, greasy doughnuts I shoplifted from Dunkin
'cause I purloin cream topping & jelly filling better than anyone can
now o' when Smith, of the fake Titanic, knew he was a man sunken
to televise (tele advise me telly television tele-visionary uncle Ken)
my nose from the vantage point of me red **** is funky-funk funkin'
or my ear from the fall-off point of a thin *** sins funky-funk funkin'
or brow from the terminal point of **** lips is *****-punk punkin'
or toes from a tiny point of 2 **** tips that're chunky-chunk chunkin'
& triggered at the apex of ******-**** ***** for a clunky-clunk clunkin'
once ragged atop the peak of Clinton's ****** of dunky-dunk dunkin'
& crap beyond a holt of pretty ******* to ***** a bunky-bunk bunkin'
My ultra-favorite, back-******* monkey loves me me me but
I love my bonnie Bonnie who lives across the ocean & over the sea
in a palace with Sparky Marcus who spreads a cruel, spooky mucus
over a toady staffer popularly known as crazy Luke or kooky Lucus
whose stratospherical id raced far beyond whatever Sparky ever did
long after Henry McCarty & William Bonney became Billy the Kid
Confess & grovel before the Lord, for on asphaltum your ***'ll skid
because dark spots on my shaded parts means that I got a headache,
that's got more killin'-power than a Malaysian/H.A.A.R.P. seaquake
I know that what you now know is on a need-to-know basis, and so
I counted them twice to I see that you amputated my left largest toe
to **** foot-bred animalcules unfelt as my atrophy trots paraplegical
in ****** labs of agriculturalists, whose studies are parthenocarpical
I love the challenge of a chic freak as it makes my pocked **** tired
7 days in a usual Haitian work week like quitting before being fired
which was her fat-*** way of losing a new job just after being hired
as this stunnin' **** ruptured me because she was so sexually wired

with white ***** makin' my Jacmel Beach tragedy 100% uninspired
Ol' men know that plastic Barbie doll dolls want G.I. Joe men, ever
since genital-lacking Barbie Roberts had the baby of *****-free Ken
whose naked 11-count stood unnaturalized as he could not reach 10
as cruel bears are bear-tricky like Smokey Bear & T.V.'s Gentle Ben
in ol' Kowloon City where Nancy Kwan sleeps with me as Ka Shen
who smoked Raleigh cigarettes for cancer & sailed north for scurvy
to enhance her perky nay-nays & to make nip-wide hips more curvy
on the roof to the floor, beneath the attic in my dungeon topsy turvy
On rough seas no boy sailor knows what a Chinese cargo ship'll do,
'cause in a tight D cup bra a raw-rubbed lawyer **** may ****** sue
Alex Hanna Feb 2018
Heavy eyes
tired sighs
one more day
for me to rise
above the noise
I have no choice
but to find
my lost voice

get off the floor
you're so much more
I cannot be here anymore
find a door and go
tired of hearing no
from every Joe Schmo
and John Doe
who think they know
how high or how low
I can go
down that road
before my tires blow
before I explode
no!

not again
don't pretend
this is not where my story ends
my saga continues
my journey extends
because of the steady hands you lend
when I am down
half in the ground
just me and my shovel
no hope to be found
you find a way
to share one more day
I pray
you'll stay
'til tomorrow is today

'til I know that I am safe
but I know you must go
so go
leave
I have to let go
I have to believe
I can do this on my own
I may stumble on stones
moan and groan
speak in tongues unknown
but forward I move
and groove
until I prove
that I can do this on my own
here is an optimistic one, for a change. To  be read like a rap

— The End —