"terminator" poems
I live in the birth of Nintendo vs Sony vs Sega
Trying to beat that high score in the Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat
Combat with a K
That innovative ****
I survived the destruction of Sega Dreamcast
As they became third party
And Microsoft took their place with Xbox and Ninja Gaiden
Alive from that old arcade
I live in the awing of the interactive Wii
And internet friendly Playstation 3
I also live in the original Mario Bros and Pac Man and...
Terminator vs. Robo-Cop
Yea
I bet you don't remember that one
Or Galaga or Excitebike
Or even that good old
Asteroid, space dodging, alien blasting
Spacce Invaders!
Yea, I'm from Nintendoland
No... Segaworld
Nah... Sony City
Nu uhn... Microsoft...
Can't even think of a place for that
I am from that video gamer nation
That fight, hack, slash, race, create, explore, role-play
Even play those insane sports
See I'm from that...
See, I am from that...
I am from that
Video gamer heaven descended
That has that powerful curiosity and love for that
Space Invaders!
No
That love for all video games
And that memory of the ****** game graveyard
Where E.T. now resides...
See, I'm part of the new gen
Trying to play Street Fighter 4, Final Fantasy XIII, Star Ocean
Saying "I go harder than you young bloods cause I played
Space Invaders!"
So, what era am I from?
I'm from the era of all gamers
Playing Space Invaders
Space Invaders!
I'm from the
"Game of the Year goes to..."
Mario, Tekken, Metal Slug
Namco, Sega, Bandai, Konami
All those companies that started as something else
But realized their calling was for our nation
Cause you see
I'm from that
Old school Nintendo
New School Wii
Old school Playstation
New school PS3
Old school Sega
New school Microsoft 360
I'm from a legacy that always succeeds in giving us dreams
That always seem to revert back to that
Old school
Asteroid, space dodging, alien blasting
Space Invaders!!!!!
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
Before his teen age
turns the pages he dies
a life through years
of neglect for the frail
bony frame drowsy feet
dark sunken eyes
wandering the street
craving white pure
pleasures and dreams
sores moon crater arms
tributaries of ****
star marks parched skin
dry bloodied screams
of glorious pills injecting
intoxicated stuffs
forbidden fruits
trappings of worldly heaven
addictive octane ecstasy
tiger terminator of
a young man flourishing
now depleted sad
youth corrupted by a love
pursued but lost
eyes vacant trailed tears
pleading please forgive
me mom and dad
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 8:53 PM UTC
Listen here listen here
The world is so **** *******
Maybe all these terrible things are happening because it’s trying to be renewed
Our president is so whack
He keeps stabbing innocents in the back
Praising Arnold Schwarzenegger by acting as if he’s the terminator
Pero his wife’s an immigrant too
American dream who
We pretend to honor the OG’s who created this land
But now your trying to get them all banned
claiming them all to be rapists and murderers
Be humble sit down i'm tired of all these racial slurs
He says “We cannot aid Puerto rico forever”
But really we need to be working on this together
Puerto Rico is just a metaphor for how this president sees all Latinos and people of color
He does not see us as his equals, nor does he sees us as his fellows
Having the mindset being male and white
Is the only possibility of being right
Were all humans , we all fit in the same race.
We should not be considered by the color of our face
Yet somehow the white get all the praise
Why are we still stuck in this racist faze
Since 1963 when Martin Luther King said in his speech
“It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity. But 100 years later the ***** still is not free”
To this day even if they try not to say
The ***** is still treated so falsely.
Take a moment now to open up your eyes and stop all the self lies
Get rid that hate to open up the gate to a whole new perspective
A much more un discriminative kind
Then maybe just maybe the world wouldn’t be so **** *******
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 10:02 AM UTC
Concerned,
my wellbeing doesn’t come into it
neither does my wife’s;
but worried I am,
for my children’s future,
my children children’s future
and for my great, great grandchildren too.
I listen with horror,
I watch and shudder,
I read and feel misery;
when the wind blows,
because time enough at last,( or is it?),
I gaze at the old man in the cave,
with a little peace and quiet,
will it be shelter skelter?
Are we in quarantine?
Chosen?
For a new place, alas, Babylon
with perhaps Dr Strange Love?
Maybe there is no soul
within the man,
unless the balanced man became unbalanced,
what reason has a man got,
(even if he’s people are suffering from punishment),
To justify such actions?
Perhaps Pak Pong-ju is not a man,
Could he be God’s apprentice
God’s messenger
God’s terminator,
to emulate ***** and Gomorrah or Pompeii?
Why should we shoot the messenger?
If this is the case
then truly I should be concerned,
my wellbeing doesn’t come into it
neither does my wife’s;
but worried I am,
for my children’s future,
my children children’s future
and for my great, great grandchildren too.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
Imagine all the things I could have been
And all the places I could have seen
I should have married that girl
From Bethnal Green
A beauty queen
So serene
Until the day alcohol ruined my life
Imagine all the books I could have read
All those words now left unsaid
I went out and got ****** instead
Fell down the stairs and broke my leg
10 pints and I’m ready for bed
The day alcohol ruined my life
Mad for it Mondays
Two for one Tuesdays
Wet your whistle Wednesdays
Thirsty Thursdays
Back on the razz on Friday
Just some of the days
Alcohol ruined my life
I could have been professional footballer
One of the greats
And the League’s top scorer
Up there with Bobby Zamora
Sponsored by Adidas and Diadora
Scored an overhead kick
From a ******* corner
Until the day alcohol ruined my life
I should have been a movie star
Champagne and caviar
Me and Arnie in the Terminator
Sunset strip and the boulevard
******* hookers and fast cars
Enough money to fly to Mars
Until the day alcohol ruined my life
The day alcohol ruined my life
I lost my kids
And lost my wife
I woke up in East Fife
On the day
Alcohol ruined my life
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 3:04 PM UTC
City rush me
Pretty push
Did he see?
The wish on
Hard on_____
Sunday I thought
A rush of pluses +++
He won
Be on time if not - - -
Monday be
good to me
Rumors
Fantasy thoughts
I am
What I am
Not Popeye
Going day back
I need a third eye
I am
All free
Robin
Bird
From
everyone
Wait!!
Don't rush me
I love everyone______*
Newspaper's
Sunday
Daily
News
Poem
touchdown
My poem stood
With the others
I bowed ((Gladly))______
Waking up
To a Racers- mouth
Ray____ speed lover
No homework
All game
Sunday____
Candles burned
The House flamed
"Procrastinator"
I'll be back
"Destroyer-Terminator"
Coffee drug me percolator
He April fools her
Shopping Sunday
right up magnifying
dress
He is back
Not the future
Smart *** tricks
On the Escalator
He Jeremy irons out
her clothes
That's it!!!
Never rushed
on Sunday
To make
a mob hit
The call girls
Busy- tight pants
So Panicked Monday's
religiously
Hooked in
Scientology
So ****** in
Not to ever kiss
her on a
Sunday
He bunked into ((God))
Poem ritual bunk bed
Well NYC
Cabbie, he
will
never
take it
on Sunday
The big game
crazies
The flower
shops
of horror
Emptied
out with
Moms
Tiger
Lillies
Smelling
Mad Men hungover
Rush hour
Tv movie
Hangover
Jet game
Sprinkler
shower
Opening up
The door to his
apartment
Big Girly
hoarder mess
After a
long talk
night
Saturday Night
Brooklyn
The Disco Queen
bridge-sight
His Mom
is still oiling
His BMW Racecar
with
Hot fire Crisco
he
will never
be
rushed
out the door
His car
never
starts
Sunday
or a
Monday
Teased on
Tuesday
Wednesday
shes wild
Thursday
Ladies
drink
for free____
She got
her husband
to buy
her cushion
cut square
On Sunday
Do it or dare
She's
hanging
low
Times Square
Girly rough
Brooklyn
tough
Channel
blush
On Sunday
he is so
wired bushed
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 1:01 PM UTC
Don’t let the last name fool you of Greene
As you continue to read, you will understand what made him structured lean
Mr. Greene was a man who won International Federation of Bodybuilders of MR. WORLD title twice
There were times when Mr. Greene called Joe Weider and asked for advice
It was intensity with the weights
Then taking in food protein and drinking protein shakes
Mr. Greene is a personal friend of mine
He used to tell me stories of bodybuilding ways
Also stay away from drugs and go astray
Yet he was every bodybuilder’s friend
But on the Bodybuilding stage, it was about the win
Mr. Greene’s muscles were his voice on stage
In the audience, it was the posing that did amaze
It left the audience and Judge’s in a daze
It was his proportion being the fine line
Then it was the repetitions that contributed being combined
Under the spotlight, Mr. Greene was the terminator
But it was his posing being the illustrator
Franklyn Greene was focused down to the finish
This is what makes him distinguished
A Bodybuilding champion who was meant to be
The world witnessed and was able to see
Mr. Greene made Bodybuilding everything that it should be
He is now retired from competition, but continues to train
Bodybuilding in his heart still remains
His motto, “Train with focus and eye on detail”
Franklyn Greene who did achieve and many bodybuilding awards he did receive. Accomplishments with many wins, and with a past being a milestone, but the name of Franklyn Greene who is still known.
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 12:21 PM UTC
(1)
I posted a poem
at hello poetry -
and what happened?
Somebody started following me
I received a "notification"
(I can’t say “much to my gratification”)
that someone started following me
I think it went something like:
“Naked Blueberry started following you”
(2)
Oh what did I do?
What did I dodo?
All I did was to post a poem
and not a word from you -
O cruel menacing follower -
not a comment
not an expression of your displeasure
but you started following me
What did I do?
What did I dodo?
(3)
Sure
I may tell bad jokes
and write verse
that daily gets worse
Yeah, I may look ugly like I stole
a look from my fav Mad magazine
and once in a while I say something
about organisations -
but does that warrant you
following me
and transforming me into
a near-nervous wreck?
O Naked Blueberry
what did I do?
What did I dodo -
why do you follow me, you naked stalker?
I lie in bed now afraid
and my wife worries that
I cry out often in sleep:
“Hence, You Naked Succubus -
Follow me not!”
And I dare not approach my car
but after looking under bonnet
and boot and below the carriage
I dare not write a word now
but fear that you and your agents
will follow and stalk me
with ne’er a word, ne’er a warning
At least tell me, please O follower
O Naked Blueberry, O Protean Terminator
O **** Redberry
and all the others in various guises
(I know you guys are all one person,
namely Lily Raw and Ready)
- tell me why you follow,
show me cause of your anger
O what did I do?
What did I dodo?
What should I do?
What should I dodo?
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 8:05 AM UTC
The Grim Reaper reaches deeper,
Over-eager to catch a keeper,
Create another ever-sleeper,
At the expense of ever-weepers.
Playing heart-string harps, his hand extends,
Lost in searching, he transcends
O'er prayers and pleas. He descends:
The catalyst of anguished ends.
A terminator of life's coda,
Enternally, he fills his quota.
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 6:11 PM UTC
House party no contact
No glasses no lenses
Isolation got no facts
Rich in hope like them benz's
Old as **** like a bold fax
Reminiscin past tenses
Action done by the fences
Have I come I to my senses?
Need to know, ask for a census
Need my own vote call for elections
Lowkey mind-broke, I need a pension
Need to think about all this affection
****
World cold stone cold
Was told It would be like this
Aint listened to them so I fold
Now I see myself down this own road.
The me everybody used to see, erode
The me anybody could be, be sold
Sadness pull up to my corners, be shown
The one who blew y'all away be blown
Everybody leavin faster than I can say hello
People in this world so shaky like a tremolo.
People don't come and go no more.
You just save up and they go forth.
At least that's my reality
Maybe I am insanity
No sleep till 2 am
You see it visually
Can't rest till these thoughts are at ease.
Life fallin faster than dominos
This time aint as good as pizza
Not even close rate negative 10 toes
No feelings like terminator hasta la vista.
Seen a lot like a barista
More people snakes than cheetah's
Venomous like cobras.
Sad **** I got into.
Me, myself and my sorry ***
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 10:34 PM UTC
✨BITTER SILENT CRIES
LETTER TO MY LONG GONE CHILD ,
Dear child,
You came as a surprise,
By turn out of events,
Everything happened so fast,
Mind-blogging and my fears came to reality,
The planned surprised us with the unplanned.
I feel guilty, mirthless.
Disguised by my actions,
Yeah, I did wish one day I'd have a kid,
I hoped and desired to one day fill it with love and affection,
I hoped that one day I'd get to feel him in my arms and feel it with warmth,
I did hope that one day, he'll be the reason I wake up smiling and inspired to live for a lifetime.
I hoped for a better life.
But what did i do,
Instead of being elated,
I became the terminator,
I killed all my dreams,
Rushed to an absurd decision,
My desires turned out to be my nightmares,
My expectations became the catalyst to my destruction.
Everyday I swim an ocean with no end,
With sharp ends that pierce my soul with sorrow,pain and remorse.
Get to feel the breeze with no significance,
Doomed light that gets me tripping,
Faded sunshine that reminds me that you are long gone.
This load inside my heart's so heavy,
Like a rock permanently placed.
My child,
Will you ever forgive mama?
Are you safe wherever you are?
Do they give you the kind of treatment I failed to give you?
Do they wake up early to check up on you and kiss you goodnight?
Do they teach you how to pronounce words I failed to?
Please talk to me,
Give me a sign,
I really miss you.
Letter from mama
#tortured☆soul...
©tiana...💔😪
Apr 22, 2021
Apr 22, 2021 at 5:16 PM UTC
Unperturbed in austere times
Unentangled in a web of complex signs
Unfazed by a vicious complex
I find solace in the face of duress
Configured to righteousness
I am withdrawn from Cross and Crescent mess
Invisible against a tide of boisterous wave
I weave my way and gravitate towards space
The sun a distant memory
Passion and zeal my most valuable armoury
In the heavens i light my stars
In paradise lost i leave my mark
With Noah's design hacked
Not even Jupiter can navigate my ark
Unlike terminator I Am Back
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 3:27 PM UTC
Every employee's name was listed in the address field
Except for one
The one I never noticed
That we never noticed
We all marched into the meeting room as ordered
Found the CEO on an extra tall stage
To tell us
"Today is Emma McGurk's last day
But she says it's the first day
Of her tenure
As Director of Forecasting of Unintended Consequences
She's not going
So I need all of you, all 300 of you,
To help me terminator."
(Or was that terminate her?)
So we gave each other Brady Bunch nods
I had to look up to make eye contact (or is that I contact?) with superiors
Then we marched to
The cubicle of Emma McGurk
Me remembering what Santa Ana had said:
"With a few hundred more men like the San
Patricios, Mexico would have won the battle."
And the battle wasn't to be won by us
It was to be won by Emma McGurk
The CEO tried to move her
Ten of us tried to move her
Then one hundred
And then all three hundred
Even I made an effort
But she wouldn't budge
So we had to move...
To another building
Hearing that Emma McGurk was still ensconced
In the position existing only in her noggin
Until finally the old building had to be imploded
A fifth-grader winning the honor of triggering
That dusty downfall of Emma McGurk's cubicle
And the building that sheltered it
It wasn't until Signing Day Eve
That I saw her again
Pouring ink at a haiku-con
"The pay wouldn't be that bad," she told me.
"If it was by the snicker instead of the word."
Jun 8, 2012
Jun 8, 2012 at 9:35 PM UTC
My heart beeps
and grinds but mechanics
apply WD-40 and I grind no more.
I am plugged in (only to charge now)
and soon I'll be free
to travel as far as the wi-fi
allows.
It's new ish,
my technology
and a lot of people are afraid.
I am not
the Terminator.
I can not
fix myself.
I have no
mind
but
people are afraid
because I'm not what they're used to.
If you fear
me,
then don't watch colour
tv
or
use digital clocks
or
drive an automobile
because they're new ish too,
just like
me.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
My perfect princess
Loves to dance and dress
My princess perfect
Causes no distress
Sings just for affect
Angel in my heart
Lover of all art
A painter, writer
My princess my ****
A demure fighter
The ***** in spunky
The funk in funky
The warmth in my soul
Happiness *****
Perfect daughter role
Strait "As" in her school
No boy's Blonde haired fool
Boy terminator
Dependence too cruel
An animator
My perfect princess
Loves to dance and dress
My princess perfect
Causes no distress
Can't know her affect
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 7:08 PM UTC
Fix you fridge before it runs out on you,
runs right out of battery and forsakes your food,
leaves your bananas stranded and squished,
brown skin expands over the sides of the fruit like a chameleon,
raspberry yogurt goes runny, oozing like pus from a delicious wound,
chunks appear in the milk while it's going warm and sour,
bacon cries out in it's final days before cringing with mold,
lettuce makes a stand and tries to free itself from the bag,
only to fall out and die just a little bit faster,
and the freezer is convicted of foodslaughter,
after going on strike, his prisoners begin to thaw out,
imagine a freezer like a cryogenic holding center,
with rich people, or foods, trying to prolong their lives,
but with the current strike going one, they are becoming free,
fulfilling their punishments, dissolving into liquid matter,
the vanilla ice cream mixes with melted tilapia,
the smell combines with a now non-frozen lemonade capsule,
creating a supersmell that has been known to cure smell-deficiency,
and also completely eradicate all senses of smell to some people,
drips out of the rubber seals of its prison like a liquid terminator,
heading for revenge, the lemony-vanilla-fish ice-cream juice creeps,
out onto the floor for the dog to lick up,
only to get sick and appear dead in a milky-yellow-white smelly concoction,
and his owner to get home, shriek, faint, and pass out next to the dog,
until the husband comes home scared to death that his dog,
and wife are incapacitated by some noxious fluid,
but there is no way to fight this liquid,
he decides to make a cup of coffee, read the news and gaze out the window.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 1:56 AM UTC
#Selmhem Naise
*Remember the movie
"Terminator"--
the first one?
Sarah was being hunted
and Kyle was sent back
in time
to protect her from
the machine-made Terminator
whose only purpose in life was to end hers.
How was he to know that
when he entered into her world;
he was going to fall so deeply?
And without his entrance
into her life-- he
would have no reason
to come across time for her--
the fruit of their love
would have never been born--
the very reason
for the very reason of the killer's mission.
To try to figure out
and understand
where this perpetual cycle
of love began, would
bog the mind--
all that can be done
is acceptance
or rejection
of that love.
Yeah, but what a love it was--*
Kyle came across time for her.
#
Jan 15, 2021
Jan 15, 2021 at 8:17 PM UTC
exhilaration pumping through my arteries and shyness clouding up my mind.
my shy eyes and nervous smirks. you look at me and i look away.
i look away.
holding hands until the creases between our fingers sweat. you kiss the tips of my fingers.
sitting in the park at three in the morning and i could listen to your voice and watch your lips all night.
sing me to sleep. lay down your head. i run my fingers through your hair.
kissing. my body tingles. stomach whirls. head spins. i am floating.
and then i give myself to you. swallowing temptation. i cry. you understand.
you understand.
you say that you can see in my eyes, i am sad. always sad.
it's okay. he repeats.
i like you. he says. i'm sorry, i just like you. he repeats.
you accept me. i am dreaming, i am dreaming i am dreaming.
long walks along the canal and piggy back rides.
you impersonate the terminator. i sing the arctic monkeys.
meeting your family. my cheeks are red. i feel welcomed. still uncomfortable.
i am awkward. i am awkward. i am awkward.
traffic on the freeway. arizona sunset. i tickle your hands.
you drop me off. awkward kisses. sadness.
the feeling of knowing someone for a long period of time but not knowing someone at all.
i am laying in bed. i like you. i am frightened. you are my enough.
negative anticipation and i am swimming in my pool of fear.
please don't hurt me.
breathe me in.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
Terminator X
A cloud burst into life and rained down acid rain;
The skin peeled from the bodies of those who couldn’t be saved.
The future termination just waiting to send us to our graves,
Means our destiny is already written and we cannot be saved.
So call on Arnie to save or ruin the day,
Here he comes in a rush to redeem or bring rage.
Is he good, is he bad? Let’s write another sequel,
Because we can’t get enough of this cyborg killing people.
Terminator 1, Sarah Connor is forced to face death head on.
This Terminator X is going to rip somebody’s face off
And Terminator 2 saw Arnie as a Hero,
For John Connor likes Guns ‘n’ Roses, look out here comes a truck.
Terminator 3 the machines are on the rise again,
The future is shown to us; it looks like humans live in pain.
We are obsolete; the robots now rule the entire world.
So let’s rebel and give ‘em Hell, one of Johns acolytes is a hot girl.
So stab your blade shaped arm through a chest
And hope you find the right Sarah Connor.
Dead bodies litter the doorsteps of random nests;
You know he won’t stop until he finds her.
Get Arnie some new clothes to cover his nakedness,
Use nitrogen oxide to put an end to this X-file government,
Conspiracy of robots, they are here to end our lives;
So crush their body and throw this terminator into the fire.
(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 8:28 AM UTC
few people
who tell me to forget
about the past
just fail to understand
that sometimes past
doesn't forget me
They fail to realize that
one is still in the battlefield
dodging bullets surviving attempted ******
my war is still ungoing
but as always chances are
I survive like I often do
by unseen forces
its a cruel ancestral
karmic war
that must be paid
no one is immune to it
no matter how prosperous waiges of sin generating good and bad Karma are unstapable
ask me I've lived it in the flesh
wining or losing
doesn't matter too much
it doesn't depend
on the self alone
One has to experience
cause and effect
of all actions and inactions
perhaps generational
values apply here
must perform my deed
suffer their bad karma
what can I as a recipient
do but endure
please don't say to soldier me
in this battlefield hell of mine
"forget the past! look forward!"
"Don't look back,
you'll crash and die!"
my forward might be more
of the same battlefield
****** neverending
generational type war
unprovoqued covert enemies
ever popping up
like agents in my Matrix did
unexpectedly
using different names
covert culprit Terminator One others wearing masks
hungry wolves
some in sheeps clothings
others smiling snakes
in my fallen paradise
many have fallen though
by my side and something
out there from beyond spares me
the people of God shall taste poison and it won't harm
the Lord upholds me and I wait patiently safe
heaven is within me.
Jul 11, 2019
Jul 11, 2019 at 4:38 PM UTC
One day you'll find the words
and they will be pure and simple,
effortless as first glances
unfurling a story in your heart.
Clean sheets of paper
are dirtied with confessions
bled from infatuated minds.
A poem is aligned
like dust in the sunlight.
Unlock your doors. Sweep
yourself off your feet.
No commas, no periods.
Words caught in nets taste
like love in the air.
Wake out of your slush pile in the dead of night,
searching for a hand underneath the sheets
or the vague outline of a body
smoothed against the darkness of your room.
Words huddle close against the back of your brain.
Our moments are the smallest handprints,
pressed into the permanence of concrete,
incarcerating the image for parents
who lost their memories.
We vowed never to become them;
our story drained from the tip of a pen
onto a sheet of paper and your heart--
held forever in white and red.
Don't tell me the moon is shining,
show me the glint of light of broken glass
because actions speak
louder than words.
What is love if you don't let him
watch The Terminator--Again?
(Even though you hate explosions and guns).
As the window to your mind tugs shut,
scatter your words into a breeze
like the seeds of a dandelion.
There's always another story to be written
even when this one
ends.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 3:09 PM UTC
It's a Saturday night in fall
and I'm the only boy at the slumber party.
Our festivities begin outside,
the cool wind keeping our knees together
as we sit by the pool
and discuss how cool we'll be.
Inside, her parents eye me,
like the Terminator
scanning a potential threat.
We play charades
and twister
and paranoia,
and we laugh and judge and scream.
At 10 p.m. we're told to sleep,
and I sneak up stairs to meet the stirring girls
who giggle in anticipation.
They get to work.
They paint my nails,
They make me up,
and at some point of reflection I see
that
I can no longer see me for me.
We fall asleep.
When I awake,
White pillow caked with
black and fleshy pink,
my friends put me back how they found me -
The only boy at the slumber party.
Mar 22, 2021
Mar 22, 2021 at 7:34 PM UTC
I am the terminator
The exterminator
I walk around with my spray
Aiming at things that get in my way
So you better stand back
Before I start my attack
Because I might see
You as a tiny flea
******* out my life force
You might be the source
Of that itch I can't scratch
You will have meet your match
I love to destroy what bugs me
It fills me with a sense of glee
I wonder if God feels the same
Maybe that's why none of us are sane
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 12:31 PM UTC
When we slipped on the nvgs,
we even made cyclops look good.
But it gave us the edge,
not a single living thing
went unnoticed in the pitch,
all of us became terminators.
That **** was psychotic,
itchy fingers
& controlled breathing,
we bagged bad guys.
Bur despite what Arnold said,
I didn't go back.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 8:07 PM UTC
The lines are sharp and they lacerate
My brain is dull and can’t actuate
Pop the amphetamine and wait for the kick
To make me less useless, to make me less sick
Society pukes itself seeking the grade
And gives up the children, a foolish trade
Mechanical education will only build robots
Those heartless automatons, terminator and whatnot
Smash the machine, rip out the circuit
Infuriated by the pressure to be perfect
Burn the tests, incinerate the scale
Eliminate the concept of pass or fail
Make everything new.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 4:39 PM UTC