"tracksuit" poems
peanut butter peanut butter
is good for your ma and good for ya papa
you see i put peanut butter on bread
abour 23 times, i buy 2 loaves of bread
and i make 23 peanut butter sandwiches
i enjoy it, as the peanut butter sticks to the bread
and my mouth, i love peanut butter sandwiches
they are very nice for me to eat
but it’s high in fat and eating too many peanut butter sandwiches
can be fatal, you see i look like a little young dude
walking aroung with white sox and a tracksuit
eating my peanut butter sandwiches
you see i vision young women or men put
peanut butter all over their legs
to make a pornographic movie
i visioned a young mate mark ward legs
sticky like peanut butter
peanut butter peanut butter very sticky as you bite
get your mouth sticking together
i remember those days of going to the kitchen up and back up and back
making peanut butter sandwiches i still want that
but if had it now, i would get up to 170 kilos
so if you eat peanut butter peanut butter
it is great to enjoy a spread of peanut butter
to enjoy every day and night
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 7:36 AM UTC
The first girl I liked
Liked the Black Eyed Peas more
And she would sing
As she skipped circles around me in the schoolyard
My mom always told me she would grow up to be a lesbian
I wished she was right
The second girl I liked
Had a Hello Kitty tracksuit
And I still worried
About what to wear around her
I told her her religious waterbottle was tacky
And I know we’ve both cried over that
The third girl I liked
Sailed on a pirate ship
And sometimes we would laugh about it
But sometimes we wouldn’t
I liked the way her eyes looked when she laughed
I still do
The fourth girl I liked
Was the third girl I liked
I liked her for a long time
And sometimes we would laugh about it
but sometimes we wouldn’t
My mom always told me she would grow up to be a lesbian
I wished she was right
The fifth time I liked someone
For the first time I liked someone
They turned out not to be a girl
but it was okay because I turned out not to be a girl either
I would never call a religion tacky now
The sixth time I liked someone
The fifth girl I liked
She wore a crown of fire everyday
Something someone else might call hair
We didn’t last long because she came to realize that for her
I needed to be a girl too
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 11:15 AM UTC
I have more than seventeen
Poems that
Mention me watching
You draw
-
Tracksuit pants
My sweater
Knitted socks
Ponytail
Colouring in some creation
With the tip of your
Tongue peeking out
From the side of your mouth
As always when
Concentrating
-
Light from the stove
Flicking curiously
Upon your person
Dry firewood heat in
Contrast to the outside
Midwinter
Beading our foreheads
At times
We were that old couple
On the picture
You cried when
I showed you
-
You are in truth the most
Beautiful person
I've ever consumed
With my every
Sense
You made me
Giant
Hero
Loved
Admired
Forgiven
For so long
I'll miss you.
God **** little girl.
I'm really
Going to
Miss
You.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
Never did a rose
bloom so sweet
all complete
with mascara & tracksuit bottoms
bubble-gum brains
hooked to her ipod
' Whatever happened to the days
of vinyl players'
sighs her grandmother
& pours her
another cup of tea
she sneers
& leaves
later she's chasing
paper aeroplanes
smoking hashish
& stinging the bad boys
with her thorns.
her scars are hidden
in plain sight of eternity
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 12:48 PM UTC
it is exactly 2 months and 3 days since you left the world and you would think that in such a small amount of time that the ones that were close to you would remember your scent, the way you dressed and the way you had your hair but they didn't. i could tell you all of the things that i have mentioned one by one.
Your hair, it was blonde and never set right when it was cut, your golden locks which came down past your eyes, well let me tell you something, i thought they were beautiful and as i saw you lying there-lifeless with no movement at all, well a thousand memories came rushing by i remember the time, we lay in bed, not doing much, but as my hand ruffled through those locks, well i knew that you, yes you, were the one for me. i remember our first dance at the summer ball, you held my waist so delicately and i held your neck and as your locks touched my pale hands, well darling it sent shivers down my spine and last but not least, i remember the day you left, i tickled your hair, putting it in place-which may i add was completely pointless because as you stepped out the door, i saw it, i saw the rain come pouring down. i never stopped you to tell you that i loved you and darling theres not a moment in time that i regret that decision.
Your scent, well my dear it was like cigarettes, it didn't appeal to everyone but to me it was the most perfect cologne in the world, many people told me to stay away from you but i craved that smell, it was like it gave me the strength to carry on when the world was in darkness. i remember your scent on that day, the day when i lost the most precious thing in the world-you, it was that same cologne and as i took a breath and the tears fell effortlessly off my face, well i inhaled that smell like it was the last time i would ever smell it. One day i walked past a man in the street, i thought it was you, there it was that cologne and in that moment, i suddenly thought maybe you weren't gone and maybe in a few hours time you would walk through the door like you normally did-but you didn't.
I miss the way you dressed, how you didn't care what you looked like as long as it pleased me and i remember the memories which i will forever keep in my mind, of that saturday night, when i caught you in a non matching tracksuit and darling, you still looked handsome, i wish that i could tell you now, just how beautiful you were because you never believed it and thats why you're gone now.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 12:43 PM UTC
Smoke clouds smoulder the putrid sky,
capricious crowds rush hastily by.
Bricks and mortar for maculate miles,
the hustle and bustle; backwards smiles.
Eyes tamed vacant, tapered down;
a tracksuit warrior, wearing the town.
The city exhales, erupting with life;
it’s very beauty: boisterously wild.
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 5:44 AM UTC
-------------------------------As seen on Taste.com*-----------------------------
Ingredients:
One will need a portion of the following:
1) 50g of self-imposed isolation (optional: w/ drawn curtains)
2) a tablespoon of misguided misanthropy (store brand does the trick)
3) a propensity for experiencing negative stigma
4) ethyl alcohol enough to form parasitic relationship (approx: half bottle of grey goose)
5) 1kg of pervasive fear of the unknown (found in Future aisle amongst acquaintanceships, unwelcome hypotheticals)
6) a 3/4 cup of ground self-loathing + the root
7) lettuce
8) tomato
9) cucumber
10) onions
11) avocado
Method:
Step one: place self-imposed isolation in a slow cooker along with misguided misanthropy. Cook on low for 8 HOURS. This will make LONELINESS.
Step two: preheat oven to 200C fan-forced. take loneliness from slow-cooker then douse in alcohol before placing in oven. it's meant to burn (you're meant to burn.)
Step three: bring a *** to boil and throw negative stigma in to cook until it softens.
Step four: cut pervasive fear of the unknown into strips and braise.
Step five: plate pervasive fear and negative stigma. this combination is the foundation.
Step six: chop vegetables and mix into standard garden salad, then plate (one may plate how they wish, presentation -- to you, at least, matters not, or little; here's the one who wears tracksuit pants to parties. your parents have to remind you to brush your hair). garnish with self-loathing, decorate plate with the root of self-loathing.
Step seven: plate loneliness. truest to the recipe if loneliness is focal point of the plate. if it's cooked properly it will bleed. so will you -- just give it time.
Happy cooking!!
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 10:23 AM UTC
I saw you, and your children days before
Your son's stomachs were distended and your girls were emaciated
The track marks on your arms betrayed your neglect
Pungent family, poor and alone in society
I saw you today, with bacon in your trousers
My boss saw you too
Undignified the way he forced your hand
and you protested the soap in your pockets also
I see you everyday in the faces of my family
and I see you in my dreams, falling from Capitalist trees
I was told to stand guard of the door, in case you ran
I wished you had, I really do
Would you have ran if you'd have known me?
For I would have stepped aside and held the door
Fifteen days in that prison, I spent
Laborious in pursuit of pennies for a millionaire
While I scrape the bare minimum wage
Fifteen days because I'm a good worker
Fifteen days with no break
Fifteen pounds worth of soap and food
Stuffed into a filthy tracksuit
For your family, as they starve
and they continue to pang as you are processed
The police uphold the law, but I often disagree
What would they do, to feed their family?
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
Jam-packed case for just-in-cases
No way of knowing when you gotta jam
Loafers with no-loafing laces
No-track tracksuit for no traces
Boxing boxers, bracing braces
Wool-coated trench coat for time on-the-lamb
Racewear dress for dressy races
Full-face mask to hide full faces
High-pace sneakers, sneaky paces
Bent scrambling helmet if hellbent to scram
Sleeveless tanks for arm-y bases
High-jump jumpers for high places
No-halt halter, hasty chases
Hoodwinker hoodie obscures who I am
Jam-packed case for just-in-cases
No way of knowing when you gotta jam
Aug 17, 2024
Aug 17, 2024 at 2:52 AM UTC
This land I have been in,
I ache for it
My heart has never ached for something like this.. that terrifies me
Being there will be some of confirmation that I have made it
Maybe just maybe I could be a human there
Affected by nothing and everything all at the same time
That in-between state always eludes me
I am back
Once more into the cage
Everything is the same as it was when I left
My old tracksuit on my bed, the shiny porcelain tiles, white curtains, polka dot duvet
Something about this familiarity is overwhelming
I clean up the mess I made before I left... try to convince myself that it isn't so bad all the while crossing my fingers tightly for that trap door to appear from nowhere
I felt like I was somebody when I was there
I felt significant
I was somebody else, someone I should be
I was a person among people
I belonged
Now I feel completely depleted, even more so than before.
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 8:09 AM UTC
I laughed today,
I looked like Super Hans
When he tried to come off crack.
I suppose it's fine to be sloppy.
But if I ever wear a tracksuit –
Shoot me.
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 6:08 PM UTC
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
met a motivational speaker in a velour tracksuit.
all his girlfriends had spanish names.
bubble gum smell, the vault is on fire
where
i found the hardlands magician where
i made out with my rearview mirror.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 8:57 AM UTC
And so, you slip through my fingers, a chance I never took,
I want to convey it all in one final look.
You're going away, for who knows how long;
I smile, wish you well, and try to be strong.
Perhaps in another life, it will be our time,
Perhaps I'll be yours, and you will be mine.
I never had the courage – I still have none –
To tell you, even now, when it's all said and done.
I didn't think you'd be leaving so soon;
You left my sky empty: no stars, and no moon.
You're moving on, to bigger and better things;
The world is your oyster, wind beneath your wings.
Care to share a hint, of what victories await?
What is your plan, for this clean slate?
"When the Universe reveals it to me, I'll let you know",
Mysterious as always, even as you go.
And though it's not forever – you'll drop by here and there –
It feels like a death sentence, it just isn't fair.
Because although you don't, I still care:
I want to see you, no matter how rare.
It is pathetic – I am well aware,
You'd think my heart would be the worse for wear.
I still carry a torch for you – I don't think I'll cease,
This heartworm will never let me have peace.
So goodbye, my love, my Adonis in a tracksuit,
My silent suffering, the melody which leaves me mute.
Aug 27, 2020
Aug 27, 2020 at 9:20 AM UTC
It's five o'clock, I woke up
The sun's coming up, the temperature didn't drop
Put the tracksuit on, tied my sneakers
It'll be a good day, yes I believe it
The chirping birds, the slightly chilly wind
The sky started to turn blue and pink
The happy married couple, the funny old neighbour
They're trying to live their lives in the best way possible
Dream, Believe
Don't care what they say,
Get up
Get ready for the day
Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 11:41 AM UTC
Three white lines-
Not ******* anymore-
Just the adidas tracksuit
on the street corner, in St. Petersburg.
Or perhaps-
in the abstract works of Miro en la Reina Sofia...*
What wild fantasies I have.
Will they ever be realized?
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 11:02 PM UTC
It was exactly her 54th birthday
when she told me she had superpowers.
She was sitting cross legged
doing her make-up.
Her bleached hair was in a ponytail
and eyeshadow dust was falling on her tracksuit.
She smacked her lips and
looked me dead in the eye.
She said she was Reality Woman
because she could mold reality.
She said once she found out
she practiced everyday.
She would yell everyday in the mirror
ever since she was 14.
She would yell she was wonderful
in the morning and evening.
And after it became reality and people told her so too
she would continue.
Aug 12, 2019
Aug 12, 2019 at 8:12 AM UTC
reading a fashion magazine is one thing
(wearing tracksuit bottoms),
but having a laugh like your muse
is another.
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 4:05 PM UTC