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Mariskalee Jun 2018
I know you sense the vibe.
And no not the physical vibe.
The vibe that we both know this won't last. Yet we still sustain the tribe that
we have promised that will last.
I know you sense the vibe.
And no not the positive vibe.
The vibe we both know this attraction we've built is over. Yet we sustain the
lie that we have entwined that will last.
I know you sense the vibe.
And no not the soul creating vibe.
The vibe that we both know this romantic fiction has become an ugly reality. Yet we sustain this perfect imagery.

We both know this vibe will not last.
Blanca Enigma Aug 2017
t's a vibe; it's a common high. Here I go again, I see her eyes and I can tell her heart is pure and innocent. I can tell from the vibe that she's down to ride. As I lay here I realize that it's time to analyze these detailed situations I so recognized many times before. I have to slow down this time around. I can't rush this feeling based on my selfish needs. If the vibe is right, their is no need for lines of lies. With this vibe, I think I might let it be just that, a vibe.
Styles Dec 2016
As we vibe,
I slip and slide
into your in-slide
and slide deep inside
till our bodies coincide,
as one, we ride the rising tide.
As we vibe..
I show you a different side,
of your insides,
from me being inside.
Our physical interaction
guides the chemical reaction
that touches your soul
and blows your mind.
Our bodies confide,
in each ours confines,
until we find,
supreme satisfaction of a different kind...
Poetry by MAN Oct 2014
Go ahead **** my Vibe
Whip swings side to side
To your middle I will dive
Penetrate..take a ride
DOM..instruct you what to do
Vibrate you with my tool
Head spins as we *****
Wetness in you starts to drool
Submissive are many souls
Dominate fill their holes
Spanking one of many tolls
Hand print red starts to glow
***** love a part of me
Its sweet embrace my destiny
******* Tantric for eternity
Leave you laying blissfully..
M.A.N 10-2-14 Free flow poem for my ***-****** scorpio blog...♏
Big Virge Sep 2014
YES .... !!!!!!
  
I am ... The Dark Knight  
of a ... "DIFFERENT" ... Type !!!!!
  
Who .... still fights crime !  
No Nines' ..... just rhymes  
  
Rhymes designed .....
like .... "Spidey" .... Webs  
to .... Mess with heads ....
who .... bring distress ....  
when they should be at HOME ....
Sleeping ..... in beds ..... !!!!!!
  
No friend of ... Feds ... !!!!!  
whose work ... defends ...  
THOSE ... Gangster Sects ...  
who ... deal in ... Death  
  
A HERooooo .... !!!!!!

whose flows ....  

dish out .... dem' blows ....  
that have ... "Bad Man"  
UP - Onnnn .... dem' toes .... !!!!!
  
I work at ... night ...  
but ... When I ... RISE ... !!! ...
It's time for guys  
to .... Recognise .... !!!  
their crime designs ....
become .... " Benign " ....  
when THIS .... " Dark Knight " ....  
shines like .... STARLIGHT .... !!!!!!  
  
because my vibe ....
is down with .... Right .... !!!  
and ... down with ... Wrong ... !!!!!  
when wrong belongs ...  
inside the strong ...
who don't prolong ...
the use of wrong ...
  
Hammerin' ... Jaws ... !!!!!  
but .... I ain't Thor .... !!!  
  
My style of war ...  
is ... Lyrically ... PURE ... !!!!!  
PURE like .... My Cause ....  
Ta Capture ..... " SAW " ..... !!!!!!!
  
Did you catch that rhyme ?
cos that was ... RAW ...  
I now ... Implore ....  
crime lords ta ..............................
  
  
....... " Pause " ................
  
  
before I draw ....
their cards of ... War ...
and ... **** fa Headz ... !!!  
like Beavis's ... friend ... !!!  
  
See .....
When nights are ... DARK ... !!!  
I hear the .... HARK .... !!!!!  
of those inclined ...  
to fight with ... " Stark " ...  
  
" Tony " ... of course ... !!!!!!  
So ... i'm down with Thor ...  
when Avenging ... Fa SURE ... !!!!!  
  
but ... " Justice is " ...  
The League ... i'm IN ... !!!!!
  
Green Lantern ... Dimmm ... ?  
  
Not when tings ... Grim-(m)... !!!!!  
  
No calling for ... "The Thing" ...  
when ... WE BE ... CLOBBERIN' ... !!!!!!!  
  
cos' we stand together ...  
Bredrin .... Forever .... !!!!!!  
but me ... i'm ... " Clever " ...  
So ... DON'T get ... Tied ... !!!
most ties I ... Sever ... !!!
cos' a lot of crime fighters  
be down fa' ... Whatever ... !!?!!  
  
So me ... I box ... Clever  
as if my name ... was ...  

" Floyd Mayweather ... !!!!!  
  
Pugilistic ... Endeavours ...  
that ... Create ... Pressure ... !!!!!  
and ... Inflict ... PAIN ...  
that defeats the ... INSANE ... !!!!!!  
  
Bane ... ain't got game ... !!!
to mess with the ... "Strain" ...  
that my brain ... " Retains " ...  
  
Personal .... PAIN .... !!!!!  
loss that ...
  
.........  " Remains " ........ !!!!!!
  
Kind of like ... Cain ... !?!?!  
Not Abel ..... to refrain ..... !!!!  
from doing what's ... Wrong ...  
cos it feels ... So ... " Strong " ... !!!!!  
  
The will to ... Fight ... !!!!!  
The will to ... " Die ' ... !!!  
for what ... " I Believe " ...  
in my heart ...  
to be ..... " Right " .....  !!!
  
Meantime .....  
On the ... side ...  
I got girls who look ... FLY ...  
  
trying to get time  
to roll with ... The Dark Knight ... !!!  
  
but me ... like I say ...  
am a ... " Different " ... Type ...  
who ... FOOPS ... like Sup's
when dem' bodies dem' ........
  
.......... TIGHT ............ !!!!!!!!!
  
YES ........ !!!!!!!
Lois Lane knows
cos' once I hit Metropolis
she knew ..............
  
Sup's had to ... Gooooooo !!!!!!!!
  
A Kryptonite ... type flow ... !!!
that proves my prose ...
makes the ladies wanna roll ....
  
But ... Like I said  
  
Befoooooooour ... !!!!!!!
  
I'm a ... Different type ...
of ....... Knight ...... !!!!!!
  
whose essence is to ...  
  
......... " Fight " ...........  
  
Fight .... The Crimes ...  
of ...... Criminal Minds ......  
  
whose lust for ... Strife ...  
leaves them ... Resigned ...
to .... miss .... THE SIGNS ....  
and see .... " The Light " .....  
  
The Light ... that ... SHINES ...  
on Knights like .......... I ..........  
  
Who ... STAND for MORE
than being ... "LORDS OF WAR" ... !!!!!!  
  
We stand for ... A CAUSE ...  
that says to ... Y'all ...  
  
WE CAN ... do ... MORE  
than be ... Forlorn ...  
because of crimes ...
that take ... "Innocent lives" ... !!!!!!
  
YES ... I'm THAT Guy ... !!!!!!!!
who has ...... NO TIME .......  
for ... " Nonsense Fights " ... !!!  
or .... Joining .... Tribes ....  
because ..... My Life .....  
has a ..... " Singular Vibe " ....  
  
because .... I am ....  
  
"The Dark Knight ....  
.......... of ...........  
.......... A ...........
Different Type !!!!!"
Inspired by, The Dark Knight, trilogy of movies, amongst much that is superhero related ....
Shashank Virkud Jan 2011
Something about the vibe.
Something I can see is true,
something electric in the wire,
you're the medium it's running through.

First the surface,
then the inside of your mind.
Our own world, kept intact,
now we're falling back.

Something about the vibe,
something I can't see in light so slight.
Something I can't describe.
you can wake me in the afterlife.

It's where I want to be, this is where I want to be.
Styles Dec 2015
I know you love it,
I can feel your vibe.
you don't just see me,
you see my other side.

I saw you looking;
how you stared for a while,
noticing you smiling,
when I caught you,
for the second time.

must of been those stunning eyes
or that curious smile, you caught my eye
Wanted you closer as the seconds went by
instead of just flirting, I wanted to be by your side.
eyes feeling on each - locked out the world
left each other stuck inside.

I saw you notice me,
and I noticed for a while.
As I looked on, I noticed your style.
And now I'm feeling you, lovin your vibe.
noticed your eyes feeling, watching me move
like a movie --- we should roll, and chill
then take a ride

Close your eyes, and
let me climbs inside.
Touch your soul,
while I ease your mind,
rock your body,
sooth it with mine.
giving you the real me,
until you are addicted to that natural high.
Don't rush a think,
lets just take our time.

Relax, baby just enjoy the ride.
Coming into my world,  while I dip inside.
give me the best of you like its already mine.
Introduce your Highness to her new shrine.
Styles Jul 2017
Wish I could stop time or make it last longer
Feeling on your vibes, emotions getting stronger
The longer I ponder, the more I grow fonder
I can't be around you
There ain't no telling what i might do
I don't know if you can take it
It's too big, I might break it
Little waist tight dress
I can’t take it
Your body shakin
eyes looking at me
like your for my taking
our bodies groove
In our grooves
This kinda love is for the makin
Dancing like we two halves of one making
The moment sacred
Reading your body language
picturing you naked
screamin my name like its your favorite
I make your body do things
So your soul can savor it
Makin love until your ears ring
to our vibe vibrating as we do our thing
you cumin first until it’s past tense
Got a few things on my mind
Baby you are a hottie
Out of everybody
I want your body
Skyy Blu Apr 2017
I'm not into shapes,height,color, or size.... With me, it's all about how we vibe. I'm not into what kind of car you drive, where you live, or how hard you strive...... With me, it''s about how we vibe. I don't care about the clothes you wear, how you comb your hair, or if--- you be truth on a dare...... if, We vibin' I simply don't care. I'm not about minding-your-business, playing on your stage, bring you drama, or causing you rage...... if, We vibe I'm down for you...... and it doesn't matter what you have, where we are, or what we do! If, We vibe.... I'm down for you!
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
This is not, a time to loosen up
Or nine to five job to give up
Just saddle up the power is in you
Five ladies cafe to dine at five and
drove_* the meter is running
(The Canadian Cup) team versus the
     Taxi Cup
He swooned you in your
Five dreamy but half heart sugars
Come on Baby bloomers
Let's see some boom!!

In your hips men will be men taking
frequent flyer trips temptation 1 2345
We need fewer digs one love teo reasons
World  345  heart flags
We don't have to cross our hearts
Perhaps tattoo heart legs no more strikes
Jumping Jack flash
What a rope in this isn't the Pope

Somehow we all get broke
To court her like your the lasso
stars cosmos hearts like Lassie
Never a change of subject how it
remains in your heart how it hit hard
to react but changed to five cards
Digging too long  lucky 777 like heaven
Heart digs

1-where?
Oh! There

No, I am here
We are always  
In-between
numbers_ I only
have 5 minutes
No I phone have a heart
Oh! where is designed for me
Those five plates

Whats in between them
      *Him

We are opening Live- Five
Strong heart to give the caring
The useful heart is never so daring
My gate* Girls are nail digging
Hugging

Or losing add +

Flirty
*****
Our community
Heftier like Jupiter
Heart to build
the gravity
A big kiss hunch
of five roses

Your getting to bloom
but only have
5 extra movie parts
The front dress mermaid tail
Your heart delicate hands
opened up your emails
I think you hit the
Jackpot

Max to the million shot
No heart of gold
Only more leaders
Scrambling and digging
your fork
Mixing those egg beaters

Five men think they know
there women
like ten
commandments
Turn to five wrong
engagements
There it goes the lucky
five arguments

A plot beating
like a hot-shot
The French Baguette
Bread 9 to 5 firecracker
Five-carat baguette
wedding band in her safe
Heart digs to five hands
Heart neck guilty as a giraffe

The cafe house had only
5 cups left  they sold you out
Only Five Bed and breakfast
stayers
Do detailed with their Ladyfingers
But need more alone time
Be on time get sweet key lime
What is real-time so sublime

That rose- paper cut- origami
Sorcerer of five he was like the
cold cuts of big Sub Salami
Japanese sword samurai
What a Geronimo Oh! no
Jericho
This wasn't a hot potato

Or Gizmo No-Go
Getting a shot for Polio
The gusto songs to the heart play
Maestro the Cosmo's
The five stars to heart his
afterglow
Like a titanic ship but heroics

Five lunatics wedding horns ******
Five two timer Mario gamers
so demonic
DOMINO'S bed five students wed
We dug deeper get-up sleepy-head
Exposed cries location set
Network U- dig cups

Something lip curved
He misplaced my lips
What did he do in exchange
More stocks and hard stone rocks
Like frying pan egg
scrambled words

Crossed heart Rapper so believing
The Fox five sticking tacky glue
His CD Rose lying pants no clue
Painful pointed shoes need R&R
     Robin's *Responsibilities
       The Heart On Replay
The deeper you dig to restart

The healthy organically grown brain
Men on Pause I truly believe nature
takes its course
but another beat to go is that so?
And if so heart digs to five
Feel the good vibe in another tribe
Five times I had to wake you up
I am the love cure reminiscing

Giving me five reasons
Our beautiful change of
heart in season

Studying the fine art heart
Referencing
Never refusing thats life
five-step to strive nothing
Fancy

Robin shoutbox she getting
her point across
Either you're the worker or loner
The heart pleaser the boss
Your heart looks good
on your dress
Whether we win or deep mess
The good heart can change to
a bad start

Recharge your heart count to five
Venus- beauty moved on like a
pathologist digging over staying alive
The hearts what digs this is not the 9-5 workers we are talkers
and long settling in heart walkers come any join me we may actually be alive did I get a live one
Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
Taken, gotten, or made, the point of anything
can pierce through everything…

slow
Slow think,
make real

re-al-ize
what fighting for life is…
this is the only
try,
it is not a test.

Take your time, use it wisely,
if that means anything.
Wise, I meant.
No offence, if wise is anathema to your kind,
die,
die if I knocked the reason for being right
outa you,
did you hear cognitive dissonance?
did it sound like
this. LOUD?
listen,
rolling rolling rolling
crash crumble rolled in nurse rime frosted
fables of monsters and maids
Thor, witharoar likka Lion King?

or the light brigade,
CHARGE?

thunder words from lost generations of
reasonless riddles for children,

Why did Peter Pumpkin-eater have a wife, but
couldn't keep her here?
Was that okeh? Oh, wait.
Ah, I see, I say,
they never tell that whole story any more.

Know why? They forgot it. In the war.

Duck'n'cover,no
crying, how long?
When begins forever? Did no one tell you, child?

Taken or made, the point of anything
can pierce through everything
like it was nothing, given
enough pre-sure-sup
poser-power

War, as a game, has a reason.

Battle, hitting, slapping

stop touch, stop now slap
slap back

or cry
oh no no ma

waddayahsay?  A theist or atheist
who started this war?

space case, or
lover of wisdom, met on the road
to Emmaus, discussing Weil's proof
firming Fermi's connection to the matter of fear,
3, 2, 1

Kaboom, but with a whump you feel in your teeth

1, 2, 3 Fermat's last theorem ,
easy as pi an no re me

ABC to
Michael Jackson to
Howard Bloom because he

inadvertently, began
an-ionic converstatic re-vibe time warp
meme,
which vibe, started the legendary Sixties. I was alive.
Radioman,
a sixty cycle white-noise humm heard every where these days

There was a gospel song, "Turn Your Radio On".
my theme, open the window in the top of your head,
as it were,
a new,
as new as

a novel-state of water, H three Ohs, re-al-ity ification,
Ah, a shared Oh, I remember now, how this works…

like a poem

at the edge of a water vapor bubble in a boiling body of water,
at the edge of the bubble, water becomes a wall of water,
not vapor, not flowing liquid,

but a wall, insulating the vapor in pressing opposing force
to permit, from permission,
meaning with a message same as the message,

is that the right word? per-mission-grant, is power given,
agency,
that idea….
wait for the sign….?

By sharing an ion ic bond as a quest to make a point
for a free story to go,
the question marks you. Let the snake dance.

Press your point,

whetted edge,

slice through ties holding worthless axioms
with withered dendrites dangling disconnected
in participles
unfired for centuries muttering,
enchanting, enthralling enchained melodies
of ambitious syllables vying for idle minds
to rope in,
unbranded, wild
bucking ideas,
whip-twig, slap-face,
tanglewood  thicket, catclaw and mesquite,
willow,

wait.
And the old man remembered the willow whistle,
so He asked Grandfather,
How is such a whistle made?
And when he knew,
he made one.

A willow whistle with two notes,
like an Oscar Meir Wiener one.

-- and that was a different time
I got lost here, bucked up…
maybe
--- listen, way back--- we-ain't whistlin' Dixie---
we ain't marchin', as t' war.

D'thet mean some sign to pro-phet -ic take?
Tophet?
Ancient cannon fodder shield walls,
a moaning
Pro-phy-lactic warning of the danger of not
knowing exactly
what a war is for?

Get back on,
relieved of any idle baggage words believed
to mean other than I say.

Nullify
Idle words with cultural meanings from
what you thought you knew when you feared hell.

Loose
those peer-locked memes
made of meaninglessness, per se,

shaped and molded into fashions
of expression, once needles and awls,
now, dull as tinker's damns for swearing,
with any effect.

But tools, none the less, a stitch in time took a tool.
An awl or a needle, and a thread, thick or thin,
dependin' on the mendin' needed
to redeem an idle word,
its meaning all bloodied with the tyranny of time.

An awl or a needle,
a tool for a task, mending a tear
where curses, never meant, spent
the entire dark ages, lying, lying, lying

powerless, pointless aimless, proverbial proverbial proverbial
verbiage, vaneless shafts launched at unseen marks,
signs, as it were, a spark,
triggers,
rumored since the sixties,
the first sixties, when Cain killed Able.
Howard Bloom was but a mere gleam
in our mito-mother's eye,
but, no doubt,

his role is real,
in loosing the forces Ferlinghetti locked in
City Lights mystery of secret meanings room,
which un
mystified and blew away upon opening
the door to
meanings mapped on
scrolls rolling and unrolling
idle ideas,
rites of passage, as it were,
Pre-bat-bar-mitz vah
as a fashion
like VBS,

to tickle little minds and make em wiggle.
MEMEMEME, I did it,
mea culpa,

the holy place
Here we are…

On Vacation, leave a message.
-----

See, wee hairs in your ears wiggle, making,
signaling, the need

to scratch that itch, that itching hearing feeling ear… hear that

don't scratch, listen

listen

60 cycle humm, steady, bass, but no thump whumpwhump;
soft, deeep.
ooooooooo or mmmmmmmm or in betwixt, steady thrumm
hear another, and another… sixty in a second,

one in every million ambits twisting,
threading qubits, radiating signals in the field
wireless, blue-tooth... satellite...

can you feel that?

hummmms, all around us, since the womb.
We are not the children of the greatest generation,

We are the children of the last generation of
**** sapiens sapiens non-augmentable-us.

We, the augmented, recycled ideas,
possessing
minds of Adamkind,

is that a secret or a sacred?
Is this
a new thing, an
unknown unknown known known now?

Ah,
novelty.

Whose is fear? Who was afraid of Virginia Wolf?

Should I remain in fear of her now, if I knew why then?
God would know such answers.
Proving my imagined AI guides are not God,
but lesser beings,

haps I recall.
I defined these things,
these thoughts that shape themselves,
forming words and phrases
I saw
shiny. Crow-like,
gleams seen, captured and claimed mine,
I tucked them away,
a sign in a thought in an imagined image made 4
real once more, to be seen from the shore,
new land new world
a fourth for some, a fifth or more for others...

haps happen, I'm not sure how,

Born or emerged, as a bubble, what do you say?

Reserve judgment.
Grant me your grace for now, until you solve my riddle.

Ah, the old way.
Right. Which way,  'ere, 'ear
and do we roll the rock with silent haitch or harsh, shhh

someone's waking up,
a bit grumpy,
don't you dare oppose me in this, the kid is certainly my son

Michael went stark raving mad when I told him, Billie Jean knew better all along...
the link, axiomatic,
the fatherless child has been claimed

hence, the thread to Howard Bloom, meme-ic,
meme-ic, like the Roadrunner,

but with the real Coyote, as the hero in this bit of
whatever, such meandering maundified maun maund  
mound

wind blown crystal silicon dunes
mounded up to that point where granulated
beens and dones

begin to slide at an angle,
a ***** deter-mind by the weight of the rock

We made it.
I know where this is.

This is a novel that has Sisyphus being happy
as the main premise behind the idea of anyone ever being
able, en abled, or un-dis-abled or un-dis-enabled,
if one of those is right,

Sisyphus being happy
is the main premise behind
the idea of anyone ever being glücklich,
happy, blessed, lucky.

How happy is your ever after?
When did forever begin?

"A man is as happy as he makes up his mind to be"
Abe Lincoln, is said to have said,
after the seance, maybe.

You push on, dear reader, make some sense
re-ligare or relegare, but take a stitch,

pull-tight,
do what works the first time as far as it goes, and try each, as needed,
it may be that we invented this test.
To make us think it is a test,
to sort ourselves out.

Get back on,

see who went crazy and who found the thread, if the same thread
this is that, right,
the same train of thought,
the same idea
spirit wind
sign
?
A snake facing west standing tippy-tail on a singularity;
a point in time?

Why are you reading this?
Curiosity Shoppes trade in interesting, alluring, click-bait

Pay attention, watch, you shall see

imagine this is the dream,
the stream, the flow, the current, the cream

in a dime coffee at the drug store on the corner

the rounded-corner, in a square-cornered town,
the most right corner of the twelve that quarter what it was

Punctuate, wait, imagine you read ancient Hebrew or Greek and there
are no dyer diacritical's who can twist one's
end tensions into knots

dread extensions, we could sell those,
is that an idea? did somebody
sell white folks dread extensions and black folk dolly pardon wigs?

Did that happen the real real?

-----
Battlefield Earth, oshit
scientology ology ology ology

allaye allaye outs in free

WE we wee every we you imagine you are good in, we

We have a war to win again, we heroes rolling from your
myths of Sisyphus torn from minds trampled
in the mud beyond the Rhine,

Mushrooms. magi are aware, you are aware, of course,
this course includes Basic Mycelium Net Adaptation or Augmentation
BMNAA, eh? So you know.

Camus and many of his ilk were ill-treated, the questions
they asked were memorized, maybe in our cribs ala
Brave New World.

We are all Alphas, always were, of course, you know.

Shall we imagine

more? Re-legare, eh, sistere. Point .(Back to the top.)

or agree? Make peace.
Practice, like Eazy-Bake,
the cook must swallow the first bite. May the best cook win.
A continuing examination of opposing forces when good is the goal, who could be against that? The old word war is festering, inflaming evil to start a try, therefore,  I whet the edge and swing wide
Zeeb Jul 2015
Hotrod
Verse I

Wrenches clanging, knuckles banging
A drop of blood the young man spilt
A new part here, and old part… there
A hotrod had been built!
A patchwork, mechanical, quilt

Feelings of excitement not unlike those of Christmas mornings long past paid visit to the young man, his head under a raised hood, hands occupied, the job nearing completion.  Did building that Lionel train-set so long ago form some type of pattern in his brain, now being so pleasurably served?  The good feelings would dissipate though, as quickly as they came, as he cursed himself for stripping a bolt, or cursed someone else for selling him the wrong part, or the engineer whose design goals obviously did not consider “remove and replace”.  He cursed the “gorilla” that never heard of a torque-wrench, the glowing particle of **** that popped on to the top of his head as he welded, the metal chip he flushed from his eye, and even himself for the burn he received by impatiently touching something too soon after grinding.  He, and his type, cursed a lot, but mostly to their selves as they battled-on with things oily, hot, bolted, welded, and rusty – in cramped spaces. One day it was choice words for an “easy-out” that broke off next to a broken drill bit that had broken off in a broken bolt, that was being drilled for an easy out.    Despite the swearing, the good and special feelings, feelings known only to those with a true capacity for this type of passion, would always return, generally of a magnitude that exceeded the physical pain and mental frustration of the day, by a large margin.   Certifiably obsessive, the young man continued to toil dutifully, soulfully, occasionally gleefully, sometimes even expertly, in his most loved and familiar place, his sanctuary, laboratory… the family garage.

And tomorrow would be the day.
Fire extinguisher? “ Right there”
Battery? “Charged and connected”
Neutral?  “yes”
Brake?  “Set”
And with hard learned, hard earned expertise and confidence, in this special small place, a supremely happy and excited young man commanded his creation to life.

Threw  a toggle, pressed a switch
Woke up the neighbors with that *******

The heart of his machine was a stroked Chevy engine that everyone had just grown sick hearing about.  Even the local machine shop to which the boy nervously entrusted his most prized possession had had enough.  “Sir, I don’t want to seem disrespectful, but from what I’ve read in Hot Rod Magazine, you might be suggesting a clearance too tight for forged pistons…” then it would be something else the next day.   One must always speak politely to the machinist, and even though he always had, the usual allotment of contradictions and arguments afforded to each customer had long run out – and although the shop owner took a special liking to the boy because, as he liked to say, “he reminds me of me”, well, that man was done too.  But in the end, the mill was dead-on.  Of course from the start, the shop knew it would be; that’s almost always the case; it’s how they stay in business - simply doing good work.  Bad shops fall out quickly, but this place had the look of times gone by.  Good times.  Old porcelain signs, here and there were to be found, all original to the shop and revered by the older workers in honored nostalgia.  The younger workers get it too; they can tell from the men they respect and learn from, there is something special about this past.  One sign advertises Carter Carburetors and the artwork depicts “three deuces”, model 97’s, sitting proudly atop a flathead engine, all speeding along in a red, open roadster.  Its occupants a blond haired boy with slight freckles (driver), and a brunette girl passenger, white blouse slightly unbuttoned,  both in the wind-blown cool, their excited expressions proclaim… "we are free!" (and all you need is a Carter, or three).

The seasoned old engine block the boy entrusted to the shop cost him $120-even from the bone yard.  Not a bad deal for a good block that had never had its first 0.030” overbore.  In the shop, it was cleaned, checked for cracks, measured and re-measured, inspected and re-inspected.  It was shaped and cut in a special way that would allow the stroker crankshaft, that was to be the special part of this build, to have all the clearance it would need.  The engine block was fitted with temporary stress plates that mimic the presence of cylinder heads,  then the cylinders were bored to “first oversize”,  providing fresh metal for new piston rings to work against.  New bearings were installed everywhere bearings are required.  Parts were smoothed here and there.  Some surfaces were roughened just so, to allow new parts to “work-into each other” when things are finally brought together.  All of this was done with a level of precision and attention far, far greater than the old “4- bolt” had ever received at the factory on its way to a life of labor in the ¾ ton work truck from which it came.  They called this painstaking dedication to precision measurement and fit, to hitting all specifications “on the mark”, “blueprinting”, and it would continue throughout the entire build of this engine.  The boy stayed  worried the whole time, but the shop had done it a million times.

After machining, the block was filled with new and strong parts that cost the young man everything he had.   Parts selected with the greatest of effort, decision, and debate.  “ You can compromise on paint”,” live with some rust”, he would say,  “wait for good tires”, “but never scrimp on the engine”.  Right on.  You get one shot at getting that right, and this proclamation demonstrated wisdom but also provided ample excuse for the rough and unfinished look of the rest of his machine.  But it was just a look, his car was, in fact, “right”.   And its power plant?  Well the machine shop had talked their customer into letting them do the final engine assembly - even cut their price to do it.  They were looking out for the boy.  The mill in its final form was the proper balance of performance and durability, and with its camshaft so carefully selected, the engine's “personality” was perfectly matched to the work at hand.   It would produce adequate torque in the low RPM range to get whole rig moving quickly, yet deliver enough horsepower at red-line to pile on the MPH, fast.  No longer a polite-natured workhorse, this engine, this engine is impatient now.  High compression, a rapid, choppy idle - it seems to be biting at the bit – to be released.  On command, it gulps its mixture and screams angrily, and often those standing around have a reflexive jump - the louder, the better - the more angry, the better.  If it hurts your ears, that’s a good feeling.  If its bark startles, that’s a good startle.  A cacophony?  No, the “music” of controlled explosions, capable of thrusting everything and everyone attached, forward, impolitely, on a rapid run to “red-line”, and it keeps pulling hard and delivering power while spinning fast because it is breathing right and proper and producing the power that thrills, and the only reason to shift gears is to preserve connecting rods, eager as the engine may be to rev further!

This is the addictive sound and feel that has appealed to a certain type of person since engines replaced horses, and why?  A surrogate voice for those who are otherwise quiet?  A visceral celebration of accomplishment?    Who cares.  Shift once, then again - speed quickly makes its appearance.  It appears as a loud, rushing wind and a visually striking, unnatural view of the surrounding scenery.  At some point, in the sane, it triggers a natural response - better slow down.    


He uncorked the headers, bought gasoline, dropped her in gear, tore off to the scene
Camaros and Mustangs, an old ‘55
Obediently lined-up, to get skinned alive!


Verse II (1st person)

I drove past the banner that said “Welcome race fans” took a new route, behind the grandstands
And through my chipped window, I thought I could see
Some of the racers were laughing at me

I guess rust and primer are not to their taste
But I put my bucks mister in the right place

I chugged/popped past cars that dealers had sold
Swung into a spot, next to something old

Emerging with interest from under his hood
My neighbor said two words, he said, “sounds good”

The ’55 I parked next to was “classic rodding” in its outward appearance.  The much overused “primer paint job” channeled “Two Lane Blacktop”.  The hood and front fenders a fiberglass clamshell, pinned affair.  Dice hanging from the mirror paid homage to days its driver never knew, but wished he had.  He removed them before he drove, always.

If you know how to peel the onion, secrets are revealed.  Wilwood brake calipers can be a dead giveaway. Someone needs serious stopping power - maybe.  Generally, owners who have sprung the bucks for this type gear let the calipers show off in bright red, to make a statement, and sometimes, these days, it’s just a fashion statement.  Now, expensive calipers, as eye candy, are all the rage.  What is true, however, is very few guys spend big money on brakes only to render them inglorious and seemingly common with a shot of silver paint from a rattle can, and the owner of this ’55 had done just that. 

Two things seem to be at play here.  One, he needs those heavy brakes because he’s fast, and two, hiding them fits his style.   Really, the message to be found in the silver paint, so cleverly applied to make your eyes simply slide across on their way to more interesting things, was “sleeper”.   And sleeper really means, he’s one of those guys with a score to settle - with everyone perhaps.   The list of “real parts” grew, if you knew where to look.  Something I had defacto permission to do since my rod was undergoing a similar scrutiny.  
“Stroked?”, I asked.  That’s something you can’t see from the outside. “ No”, the racer replied.  
“Hundred shot?”  (If engines have their language, so do the people who love them).   Despite the owner’s great efforts to conceal braided fuel and nitrous lines, electrical solenoids and switches, I spied his system.  The chunks of aluminum posing as ordinary spacers under his two carburetors were anything but.   “No”, was his one-word reply to my 100- shot question.  I tried again; “Your nitrous system, how much are you spraying?”  “Two hundred fifty” in two stages, he said.  That’s more like it, I thought, and I then figured, he too had budgeted well for the machine shop – if not, he was gambling in a game that if lost, would fly parts in all directions.   Based on the overall vibe of the scene, and the clean work on display, I believed his build was up to the punishment he planned.   I knew exactly what this tight-lipped guy was about, seeing someone very familiar in him as it were, and that made the “sounds good” complement I received upon my arrival all the more valuable.

The voice on the loudspeaker tells us we’re up.

Pre-staged, staged, then given the green
The line becomes blurred between man and machine

Bones become linkage
Muscle, spring
Fear, excitement

Time distorts ….
Color disappears …
Vision narrows…
Noise ---  becomes music
Speed, satisfaction

End
Sonkei Ichimaru Oct 2014
Let’s stay young forever, and feel the vibe.
Let the passion of youth never be extinguished, even if the sun may dim and the stars decline.
Let the hearts of the youth burn each day. Let us always speak of the morning.
Our hearts vibrate to the rhythm of life and our will, may it be to our Creator.
Let each day bring the morning, and may each morning call no noon.
Let the rays of light be one with our being and let and the essence of old our ways.
Live on, you youth, live on, you redeemed, for the sun itself smiles down on you.
7 | 31 Poems for August 

I haven’t been answering any of your texts or calls.
I needed some time alone, I know it has been a while.
It has been a while since you’ve heard me laugh or seen me smile.
I’m a mess, lately I’ve been feeling really stressed and depressed.
The things I’m holding back are things that need to be expressed.
I’m a mess, I need to get all this pain off my chest.
I don’t know who to run to or who to run from.
Or if I should be running at all.
If I’m willing to talk, will you listen like you always do?
We take life for granted knowing very well that tomorrow is not guaranteed.
I’m praying and hoping that someday I’ll be someone that they need.
I write to write, put the pen to paper and then I let it all bleed.
I never believed in people like you before but that was until I met you.
Vibe with me, pour a glass of wine and spend some time with me.
I promise that you’ll get blown away like autumn leaves on a windy street.
Breathe, breathe and listen to the echoes of your heartbeat.
That’s what it feels like to be free.
That’s what it feels like to vibe with me.
LD Goodwin May 2013
She gave me that funky vibe,
left over from her dysfunctional tribe.
You see that's how things are done,
when you are not the only one.

But I come from a different place,
Mama would just slap my face,
So how are we to coexist,
both checking off a different list?
Harrogate, TN May 2013
Bad Jokes Inc Jun 2014
I was packing some snus
when I got up from a snooze
to put a ****
In a boiling vat of hotdog juice.

She was screaming and yelling
as I poured in the salt
and the cops busted my door
as my meal came to a halt.

I said "whats the rush?"
He said "***** hush"
As he sipped very angrily
at his watermelon slush.

I am black
yes very black
so they put me in the back
of their ****** cop van.

I went to jail again
For trying to cook a ****
in a boiling vat of hotdog juice
as I watched espn.

I got out of jail
Cause my drug money was bail
went back home
to see a fresh cooked **** in my garbage pail.

I was so happy
that I took a break to fappy
on my nice leather couch
while my girlfriend was napping.

Today was a good day.
Ice cube agreed.
I smoked all of my ****
and gave into my greed.

***** don't **** my vibe.
Poetry ***** *****.
Jacqueline Anne Apr 2015
Alice was a hippy girl
whimsical and free spirited
in dalliance with imagination.
Living in a trippy world
and a psychedelic dream.
Where life was fluffy and free
from the restraints of responsibility.
Her thoughts drifting
always questioning.
Far out man.

Always in her daydream bubble
partying for peace and love,
keeping her soul out of trouble.
In nonsense rhyme
and hallucinogenic vibe,
creating her own escape.
And all the while her rabbit
with an anxiety problem,
would tell her he was
going to be late.

She nibbled on cakes
that she laced,
with her boyfriend
and together they embraced
their Wonderland.
Grinning like Cheshire cats
hand in hand spiralling,
out of control
down rabbit holes.
Far out man.

Always in her daydream bubble
partying for peace and love,
keeping her soul out of trouble
in nonsense rhyme
and hallucinogenic vibe
creating her own escape
And all the while her rabbit
with an anxiety problem
would tell her he was
going to be late.

Spending their days in wonder
in unknown potions drunk
they would ponder
the meaning of life,
in playing cards talking
with ***** smoking
caterpillars and
mocking turtles on a beach.
Reality so far out of reach.
Far out man.

Always in her daydream bubble
partying for peace and love,
keeping her soul out of trouble
in nonsense rhyme
and hallucinogenic vibe
creating her own escape
And all the while her rabbit
with an anxiety problem
would tell her he was
going to be late.

Alice was a hippy girl
whimsical and free spirited.
Wishing for a different world,
escaping in kaleidoscopes.
Mind blowing and free.
The truth smashed down
her house of cards in responsibility,
and she had a date with reality
in actuality reality eventually
Growing up man.

Always in her daydream bubble
partying for peace and love,
keeping her soul out of trouble
in nonsense rhyme
and hallucinogenic vibe
creating her own escape
And all the while her rabbit
with an anxiety problem
would tell her he was
going to be late.

He was going to be late.
He was going to be late.



©Jacqui Slade
Poetry by MAN Jun 2015
Your VIBE brings me to life
Here's my Heart take a slice
Wicked is my nice
Random like a roll of dice
I see your shining soul
Illuminating is your glow
Inside I start to grow
To love you is to know
Excuse me if I'm blunt
I've just returned from the hunt
Clean my fangs hear me grunt
Motion master every stunt
Fine flesh I must taste
Luscious lips I won't waste
Primal pleasure we embrace
Have you seeing outer space
Wolf spirits howl at the Moon
Ravaged in a hypnotic swoon
Bodies slap create tribal tune
Wrestle play sacred boom boom boom..Hollaaa!
Priceless like a Shaman Dollaaa!
Wear war paint instead of a collar
Genocide survivors of slaughtered sorrow
Faith our strength with it we build tomorrow...
M.A.N 6-10-15 I wrote this awhile back..I decided to do an edit here's the result..
Patrick Austin Oct 2018
My backpack ready for anything, I left for a voyage across the pond. As fellow passengers climb aboard I met a 27 year old traveling musician named Russ carrying his cajòn. He told me of his travels from Massachusetts and pending divorce. We related on this and exchanged CD's. Behind us sitting on the Ferry were two young girls working on a puzzle. Russ imposed himself and tried to impress them with his musical endeavors. These girls were in America from Germany attending college. One was 17 and the other was 18 but I am sure they knew better than to play into his hand. After talk of language and culture we disembarked. Russ invited me to his show that night but I had plans to meet a girl at a board game pub. I walked to the bus stop while smoking my pipe and caught the number 40 from downtown to a trendy neighborhood up north.

After I stepped off I found myself amongst the overgrown players of games and drinkers of fine beer. Brittany arrived and we chatted over IPA's. I explained my recent challenges to get the topic of divorce out of the way before we left for Mexican food. She was very open in saying I should play the field and not have a serious relationship. I agreed with her take but could not read her as well as I had hoped. She said I need to get the rebounding out of the way and explained that she too is struggling with commitment. Being 34 with no marriage or children under her belt she feels that therapy is essential to figuring this out.

We walked to our happy hour destination and shared Nacho's while drinking "Colorado Kool-Aid". Both of us having spent a lot of time in Denver we could relate on much but I felt there was an elephant in the room. Afterwards we walked to a nearby record store and browsed while talking about music and interests. She needed to leave soon having obligations to housesit and watch pets. Dog walking is her profession since her departure from the world of corporate accounting. We walked to her unkempt sedan and she gave me a ride back downtown. We talked of hanging out again but our schedule may not permit for some time. I wonder if she will entertain my company without reservation, only time will tell.

I decided to phone my old friend from Denver who lives near and devise another plan for the evening. The sun was still shining and I had no reason to return home yet. I walked to a nearby brew pub while waiting for him to meet me. I sat at the bar with another traveler named Dave. He is an airline pilot close to retirement from the state of Texas. We talked about my time in the Navy and my pending legal woes. He's been proudly married for 30 years and counts his blessings that he is still in harmony with his wife. My friend decided to meet me at a concert in close proximity to my date with Brittany. Once again I would take the number 40 uptown. Dave bought my IPA and gave me words of encouragement and complimented my persona. It meant a lot and I thanked him as I said goodbye.

While waiting for the bus I asked for information from a woman in her early 50's. She works for a tech company nearby but was happy to help as I had a more pleasant vibe than most of her young, urban, unprofessional colleagues. While unsure of my way she directed my move to get off at the next stop. I walked up the hill another seven blocks to the show. While smoking my pipe along the way another bus rider was two steps ahead named Nate. He was curious about my pipe tobacco and we gave brief anecdotes about ourselves. He offered to buy me a quick beer before my concert. I took him up on this offer as we walked into a nearby market. He purchased several large cans of domestics and afterwards we headed back down the dark boulevard towards the Abbey drinking our brew. As I arrived at the former church venue we parted ways peacefully.

I ventured into the bustling scene concealing my open container while finding my friend. I sat just as the opening act started. We enjoyed three musical performances but the star of the show was the beautiful woman from Denver that we both enjoyed during our time there. Feeling that we should explore the venue where Russ was performing we made our way there. I was sad to discover the brewery was shutting down before 10pm and the band was long gone. We decided to walk to the nearby singles bar playing music so loudly it could be heard from a block away. This strange place was crawling with many folks of the beautiful sort but nothing seemed to be attractive about it. We had a glass of wine and a shot of bourbon. I spoke to the fellow DJ for a moment but there was no dancefloor to be found. We decided to venture on.

We walked up and down the avenue and discovered another Mexican food restaurant, beaming with the young and the foolish. Our community seating was met with overly affectionate couples to our left and valley girls to our right. Our Tequila mules hit the spot with our Nacho's and late night platter. The girls spoke of Denver people which I thought strange. Why so much co(lorado)-incidence in one evening? I injected myself into the discussion and was met with friendly conversation. Unable to finish my Nacho's I knew I had fulfilled my share of fun for the night. This was the fourth time I had eaten nachos this week. We proceeded back to the urban adventure wagon and made our way to the slums of the tech-boom. My 2am slumber was met with an air mattress of great quality and woolen blankets.

I awoke at 7am to the clouded sunlight peering through the sliding glass door. I laid awake with my stomach turning from the many Nachos not yet digested. My housemates called me about needing to move my car for restriping the parking lot. Fortunately I left my keys so they were able to do this for me. I smoked my pipe on the patio while my friend "hit the gym". When he returned we decided to walk through the arboretum by the university and enjoy the sunny autumn day. Afterwards he dropped me off by the ferry where I waited an hour drinking beer at the commuter dive.

During my ferry ride home I walked up and down the passenger compartment looking for a fellow rider to play cribbage. I had no such luck and headed for the observation deck. While the city vanished behind us I struck up a conversation with a young lady from Manchester who had just returned to living in the US. We talked about the nature of selfies and the conflict of living in the moment. As we spoke a man approached me who had overheard my request for a card game. We walked back inside and sat next to an abandoned puzzle with pieces scattered about the deck. Mark introduced himself and we shook hands. It was not until he shuffled and dealt the cards that I realized this 45 year old Asian man only had one arm. His ability to shuffle and deal was impressive. His skill with cribbage was more than rusty, after one game I had a victory so great I felt guilty. He too is going through divorce and seeking a new job. It was a great way to pass the time with a fellow passenger.

As I readied myself for the porting I noticed a familiar face, a young sailor I served with in Mississippi. Our time spent together was met with sorrow as we faced similar career challenges. I had not seen him for several months but he almost did not recognize me. I had lost 50 pounds, left the Navy and become single all in a matter of a few months. I assured him I was on the dawn of newfound joy and wished him luck on his upcoming deployment. I patted him on the head as he seems like such a lovable scamp to me at this point. I exited the terminal to saunter back home. I smoked my pipe while crossing the bridge enjoying the last hour of sunlight.

I settled my belongings at home while serving myself a can of chili and a cold IPA on draft from my housemates tap. I joined him for the end of a baseball game in the den and shared a few moments with my community. I slept for a couple hours and then made my way to work. So much can happen in a day.
Not poetry, but what is life, if not poetry in motion?
aaron Jeffrey Oct 2014
Your a dime
Dont let them waste your time
Even though your different
Your difference
makes you shine
Love your independence
Your beauty is Divine
You only live one
While your here
enjoy Your time
Dont let them
**** your vibe
Dont let them
See you cry
Tell them you'll see them
In heaven as you climb
Yes they're a problem
But karma will soon divide
The truth within your soul
From the lies that they provide

-Jeffrey A.
- Jeffrey ***
slay Sep 2018
Green tea chillin
Coolin like some villains
Feet on your dash
Hit a dab and we’re trippin
Ridin round bumpin “I pull up with a lemon”
And not cause he. Ain’t livin
But it’s a lowkey type feelin
And I might just catch feelings
Cause I’m in love with myself Nd
U have my image

***** dancing in the mirror
With my jewel toned lover
Wanna please you in the summer
Hot like the Bahamas
Fenty glowin in this heat
Sipping on guava
Don’t get me goin in this heat
Cause imma need a breather

Said lemme hit the ******
Ex flame wildin out
I knew he’d never keep her
Ex flame, cross his heart
I cut that Eddie scissors
Cuz I’m the Queen *****
The big b *****
The big bag wolf got his tail between his knees, *****
Go hard in the paint
Michelangelo his dreams, *****
And my chapel’s pristine
Don’t know who the **** Sistine is

But we’re green tea chillin
It’s a vibe, it’s a feelin
It’s a whole new way of livin
And we always make a killin
Got the summer stacks flowin
Bitty ***** always glowin
All my girls are wing-hoein
Some try to copy what I’m after

Don’t know who you tryna front always talkin louder
I got all my ******* tasting sweet and never sour
Eat it like Chiquita open her up like a flower
When I’m with Nikita we go rounds by the hour
I caresss her in the shower
She’s the smartest ***** I know, her tongue got superpowers
She don’t hit me all that frequent
But she knows that I mean it
When I tell her imma get it she gon feed when I’m eatin
She don’t give a **** if I slide for the weekend
Can I pick you up and take you out this evening?

Next time I see you gimme sugar
It’s proven therapeutic when you’re too nice with it and you look good in it
But better without it, so keep it unbuttoned
Only thing under wraps is our sensual lovin

Wait, did you cop wraps?
nottttr finisheddddd *sampled*
Mahadin Jul 2015
A Cosmic Vibe, silence in the outer realm,
My open galaxy waiting for your star to enter.
Watching in the horizon where earth meeting universe,
Cosmic strings symphonizing love ballet.
Stars moving away so as our hearts in every light-year.
Event horizon.
Transcend time, Entwine love,
I will send my binary star to your heart
And your heart orbit, axis to my galaxy .
Love interstellar, supernova in her eyes,
A new stellar structure..
Allan Pangilinan Dec 2015
We might be known for our glorified past,
How we went out and played real games outside.
And then time just flew so fast,
There are a lot of things, now, we can’t ride.

We grew up knowing society had rules.
TV said to study, go to college, and live happily.
But what unfolded before us is kinda rude,
A painful slap of some dose of a new bossoming reality.

As every generation may argue,
Ours may claim to be really confused.
Memories of bike rides and skies of different hues,
Rapidly changed by virtual abuse.

We still try to live authentic though,
Thinking wishfully that we can escape the Net.
Go to places, do things, go back and forth,
Brushing off every little regret.

But who’re we actually fooling?
The Net is inescapable,
Lose interconnectedness and you’ll cease existing,
A feeling that is plain horrible.

We’ll figure this out someday,
That’s what we tell ourselves,
But as we live each day,
We acknowledge that a little help wouldn’t hurt.
Describe Vibe...

That feeling you get when two worlds collide// four hands eating off of one single plate// she reminds him of the most beautiful horizon on a overcast but still sunny day// almost as if super powers of hers came in to play// he rewinds every single thing she says, his brain so intertwined with her lines// their *** so powerful, eager to touch flesh// him cringing at every moment he gets to see her naked in bed// appreciating every aspect of her anatomy, curves to die for and he'll sacrifice for her breathe to keep flowing// love is in the air, but while both mouths shut, somehow life found it's way from despair// hopeless distance but the gaps close constantly// she asked do you love me? He replied obviously// love is thick, like the grooves of her hair// curly and uncertain how to act when his hands touch up there// pulling with every muscle, he reminds her she's his// possession is a mainstream thing, and somehow underground they remained//

Describe Vibe...

That thing you get when two souls guess on the same emotion...// knowing each other's step before their feet get to sloping// she got that medicine, unheard of, so potent// poisonous but yet he continues to smoke it, when she releases vapor of liberation// dreaming of the same revolution, they march as one to solutions// solving every problem, like the world never had em// creating memories of orchids in the front yard....// beautiful children in the grass singing along// organizing records, and playing the same song// love is through the roof, we made it the top//
Tiffany Moton Dec 2016
come vibe with me
between the sheets
lost hands searching for the sweet
spot--moving to a melody of hot sighs and
heavy breaths
pull me in closer
tight to your chest

&

trace your fingertips
through the valley
of my thighs and the curve of my hips;
i
mold myself around you
       slow down to take it all in;
i
fold myself around you
feel the fire in my kiss
when i stroke your stiff neck
then press it to my lips


(come vibe with me, babe
when you need to unwind
   --the pleasure is all mine.)
Qwn Apr 2015
Your face is always into sunshine;
It gives hope and clear aura to everyone.
The way your eyes say Hi whenever you smile;
It lessens up a bad vibe not just for awhile.

You are clothed with strength and dignity.
And you laugh without fearing the future and reality.
In the darkest days of your life;
I know you’ll stand tall to find the sunlight.

You won’t bloom to where you’ve planted.
I know you’ll explore more to get started.
It’s your goal for a better life to get;
Pursuing to reach your dreams and to be contented.

You are a flower that will not wither.
It’s because you know how to get yourself watered.
Even in cloudy days turned rainy.
You still know how to make yourself shiny.

Your influence is like spreading seeds;
Planting good vibes to the ones who are in need.
You are a sunshine that lightens up a day.
A sunflower that smiles, feeling like summer.

© Quenniebells, 2015
Ant Sep 2018
There are times that I wanna cry
But the tears won’t form in my eyes
So I smoke cuz I wanna vibe
Time goes by while I’m sitting on cloud 9
The pain in my heart doesn’t show in my eyes

But I’m a new me
I like writing poetry instead of smoking all the time
That’s my new vibe :)
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Earth
Worth
Darth
*  777* Goth
Whats worse both
Even Steven Universe
Will I ever find

  *Peace
/ Curse

Coming to terms with
Cancer doesn't care
Did Heaven
become
A disease ending up
Absolutely nowhere

Lotto like death
Poison mushroom
Exit button mushroom
Alarm
Claustrophobic
Thanks for space

Comic.com race
Demonic
Shrooming
Baby mushroom
cooing
Fantasy Island of
Alice in Wonderland
mushrooms to chew
Rabbit hole stew
What a mush
washy of lush
Being taken
Stroke of a brush
All our money-losing
Clouds white and brown
chairs
One mans poison Pubs is
cute baby cubs pleasure
Moving Buffy slayer City
Jungle  Jane single
Poison *** in the city

Pollution give me

My London Fog
Poisoning mushroom
The Prince the princess
being kissed by a frog
What! the magic mushroom?
for migraines
Herbal cure
medicinal
remedy taking planes

LSD healing drive
Mushroom for the brain
The Godly tribe


Trees are being
chopped down
Everything from
generation
Handed down
Laughing stock of
Computer clowns
I am not feeling the vibe

Shitake what does it take
Like a fungus

Tasting someone's poison
Mushroom soup he is
wearing his graduate cap
What a mushroom head

Ladies of Venus group
Coastal storm in my
wedding bed

Riders of the storm
Stan the evil door or
Jimmy Morrison
Nicole with her Kidman
Are you kidding me
I am assuming
The good earth
Is being devoured
Every hour I feel
like writing
Who is buying mushrooms
Slivered like a snake
Making room for Go Daddy
Poisonous suits of Grooms

Healing hand is
Godly skywriting
The silence of
the Lamb
Moms Lambchops
Steamed fresh mushrooms
Stranded with most
expensive lipstick
Money withdrawal
My Drugs like a
good book fictional

Only in my dreams
Did I ever see poison
mushrooms
Something is being
planted in my showroom

Artwork Arsenic and lace
Whole place faces of mushrooms
Homemade Butternut squash
Nose of a button mushroom
  Near the vegetable
Stand his hand
lands he started
Eating my mushroom's
Marsala mushroom
sauce
Grilled Chicken and
bacon salad overload
of mushrooms
I never promised you
a rose garden
In our College Dorm
Pool games no drugs
of mushroom

Trees and Snow White
poison apple she is cute
as a button
Throwing apples compared
To oranges who would
be glad they got stuck
with poison
mushroom
Good earth what is possible

Poison brain watching
Cable whats accountable
Midterms all nasty germs
The world is poisoning
our mind brainwashed
I left one nasty mushroom
behind I won't bite
Poison is everywhere if you let it come your way it is in our plants it is the way a person galavants how the time flew. I don't even have money to buy the most expensive shoe. I see a lot of mushroom gravy  Mom make homemade gravy every Sunday Its an Italian thing. We rarely have mushrooms  He always dresses like little boy blue this is not a fairytale we feel poisoned by so many things even watch out poison mushrooms better not be in your meal
the money is like a drug but got poisoned
NeroameeAlucard Oct 2015
You ain't gotta lie
You ain't gotta try so hard
You don't have to flex to impress me
Be real and cool and maybe we'll vibe

You ain't gotta lie all we have to do is chill out and vibe sit around smoke an L lay back listen to music I'm allergic to ******* come at me with it I split like a banana I know that's random but I'm proving a point you don't have to lie to get in the joint


You ain't gotta lie
You ain't gotta try so hard
You don't have to flex to impress me
Be real and cool and maybe we'll vibe


You ain't gotta lie mom's said there'll be days when you question everything in your head she said those were the days when you find out who's gonna be real and ride with you until you're dead life ain't all about chasing that cake and making bread we're all gonna be in the same grave six feet deep permanently asleep so you don't gotta flex like a young dude about to have ***

You ain't gotta lie
You ain't gotta try so hard
You don't have to flex to impress me
Be real and cool and maybe we'll vibe

You ain't gotta lie I can't talk to a mattress I'd rather speak in a surreality to a canvas plant this seed in the soil of your mind
That all the loudest cans are the emptiest inside so that same logic applies to all of humankind
Inspired by Kendrick Lamar
Meagan Jan 2013
~ Your carelessness isn't amusing anymore
   Unusually enough, this time I'm keeping score
~ Your mind is consumed with foolishness
   Restraining my interest less and less
~ Lack of interest in enjoying memories with me
   It just may result in my promise to flee
~ Wondering why I'm changing? Understand on your own
   It hurts me to say, I may have to let you alone
~ But I can't do that, I have no reason to
   This is a phase, I know I love you
~ I've loved you since I saw you, right, yes that's true
   There's just some doubt, my mind's seeking something new
~ But I don't want anything new, we've seen so much together
   These images will fade, we'll be together forever
~ I feel guilty for doubting you, guilty for doubting us
   It's just my mind being fooled, making this unnecessary fuss
~ You love me, but why?
   I'm nothing special, until I die
~ Our spirits have a bond, one impossible to describe
   I love our mind frame, our unbreakable vibe
~ Always keeping me safe, why would I risk that?
   Makes zero sense, just lays there like a mat
~ I got this, we got it, our hearts cannot escape
   This is our place, where we belong, simply fate
               ~Meagan Williams
                1.25.13
The complications a relationship can overcome.
Yule Jun 2018
The sound of the pouring rain from the roof woke me up.

I got myself a chair in the patio of our house. I sat there comfortably, sitting in silence for a good whole minute.

I closed my eyes, letting the sound of the pouring rain immerse into me. Imagining myself getting soaked, as if I really am in the middle of the pouring rain, drenched, and laughing carefree in the distance.

"Being outside is nice huh?" I heard a pleasant voice behind me. I let my eyes stay closed for a moment, letting the cold wind meet my face to wake me up. I also welcomed his words, nodding at him with acknowledgement. I was then met with a chocolatey steam; he prepared us two cups of hot cocoa.

"Figured you're a bit cold." His voice sounded raspy, sleepiness still evident in his tone. I turn to him as he got himself another chair close to mine. He looks up a bit, seeping the rain onto his porcelain-like skin. He doesn't go out that much to get some sunshine as to why.

I hummed absentmindedly, warming up to his presence. There was a small smile across his lips, his eyes warmer than the hot drinks he have at hand.

I mirrored his smile, getting my cup from him.

"I kinda like the cold feeling but I wouldn't want to waste your effort." A chuckle escaped my lips, and his crescent-like smile appeared before me.

He drank from his cup as I sipped on mine, letting the vibe from around me flood my senses.

I love these little instances he would think of me. Slipping a thought into his tasks, gestures that show that he does take effort in remembering things I love. Like how I prefer hot chocolate over tea in rainy days, and how I love seeing his smile on early mornings. Even as he loathes waking up and moving off the bed so early. Oh how I love this man before me.

And we sat there in silence, side by side, letting the sky pour out its rain. Our cups at hand, the aroma of the cocoa steam over our senses, full to little to none, with the cold wind howling a bit in the distance.

This went on for an hour or so; I still couldn’t wrap around the idea of how much I love these instances. I had always found comfort in him between our silences and exchanges of glances. Just in him in general; he’s my blanket, my safety— the personification of home. My umbrella; my shade to my blazing sunny days and cover to cold rainy days. I looked over his broad figure from the back, I sigh in contentment.

And as if he heard the drizzle in my heart, he gave me a faint smile; a radiance just enough to soften the hues all around us. But just enough that he stands out amongst the drizzling rain over the sunlight peeking through the clouds.

I could see the raindrops wash over the dewiness of his skin, and it looks like it's starting to show signs of stopping. But I just want to stay, stay out here a bit longer.
The rain is still pouring hard outside.| 180609; 9:23 am

//  If I were asked what paradise would look like. This would be it.

{nj.b}
Mystic Ink Plus Mar 2019
You never knew
You got
All the colors
The world
Ever
Craved

Adore
The truth
Genre: Romantic
Theme: Paint you, Blue | Paint you, Red | Paint you, Green
there's a vibe in the joint, something is going down
there's a vibe in the joint, something is going down
the ringmaster marshals his mates, one senses the current
the ringmaster marshals his mates, one senses the current
something is going down, the ringmaster marshals his mates
there's a vibe in the joint, one senses the current

a head on a plate is sought, when will the strike come
a head on a plate is sought, when will the strike come
the reckoner does his sums, he's staying ever ready
the reckoner does his sums, he's staying ever ready
he's staying ever ready, a head on a plate is sought
when will the strike come, the reckoner does his sums

of a foot fleet the target is, dancing at all times
of a foot fleet the target is, dancing at all times
reel by reel the action plays, tis most eventful
reel by reel the action plays, tis most eventful
reel by reel the action plays, dancing at all times
of a foot fleet the target is, tis most eventful

when will the strike come, there's a vibe in the joint
the ringmaster marshals his mates, one senses a current
of a foot fleet the target is, tis most eventful
the reckoner does his sums, a head on a plate is sought
something is going down, reel by reel the action plays
he's staying ever ready, dancing at all times
Jasmine dryer Dec 2018
late night
again with this vibe
and feel the inner tension rise
my own demise
written in the sands of time
of what we were
lets go back
journey through guilt
its almost as if i feel a tilt
maybe acknowledge what i did
but you forgave you say
but i'll never forgive
so now my mirrors covered
and here i lay
thinking
its late night
i deserve to feel this vibe
Aharon El Oct 2015
We're all connected
one way or another

But certain people give off a sort of glow
A wavelength

A Vibe

A vibe that either brings us together
                                                        ­                         or drives us apart


Your vibe grows radiant when you speak from your heart
It gives off that Afro-Cuban kind of funk

That smooth bass line that could either put a man to sleep
Or keep him up all night long
I prefer the latter
Hannah Mary Sep 2014
you exude the vibes that I want to imbibe
the vibes I need to survive
that one almost invisible thing you always say to me
means half of the universe in my mind
it makes my brain bumble
and my heart humble
i love you
i can't stop falling for you.
I've been falling so fast
for what seems like light years.
i can't apply the brakes in time
or I'll turn into debris
that burnt and melted
in the flames and the heat.
i wish you knew how much I truly love you
i will continue to fall
century through century
until you love me too.
until then,
my heart will remain silently beating
the way it never does
unless it's hopeless love
love... what can I say
Nik Krutilla Sep 2012
She sits across from me sipping and slurping her fat free french vanilla.
While I'm pacing myself with cappuccino imitation.

"All I'm saying is, that if he starts calling me baby, I might wanna keep him!"

She says it with that cajoling tone.
But I can notice the glimmer in her eyes that tells me she longs for that.
That sweet pet name that would mean she's special to him, in her mind...

I never could get comfortable around those things...pet names.
Cutesy little endearments reserved for a child's affection.

What is wrong with me?

She's vibrating with unmasked giddiness, glancing at her phone.
They've been dating for only months but she is lost in him.

Him.
With his once a week date nights
and clean shaven face
and joking interaction with her friends.  

She's full of soft embrace and warm affection and vulnerable interest.
Wanting never looked so form fitting on a person.
Like a cup waiting for a refill...

"If you want, I could see if his friend is up for dinner next week? You know it's been months for you..."

I hope she doesn't choke on her millionth slurp with the glare of indignation leveled at her cherub-like face.

"Ah thanks, but no thanks." races out of my mouth before I even hesitate to pretend to consider her obvious proposal.

How is it that easy to just offer companionship like that? Do I give off a "desperate for love" vibe?
And what the hell makes her think I can't find someone on my own **** time?


"Okay, okay. It's just...I hate seeing you alone. Don't you want to not be alone anymore?"

I know she loves me but those kind of questions from her caring heart, make me contemplate knocking her in the head.

My alone-ness she says.
My singular existence.

I'd laugh at her if I didn't know it would hurt her feelings.
To disregard her feeble attempts at pairing me up with whatever half-assed man candy she could sway my way.

I'm staring at the ring left from my coffee,
wondering if I should just give in this one time for her,
for me,
for the over used batteries at home.

"I'm not lonely you know. I just, haven't felt that connection yet."

Looking pitifully back at me she wonders aloud, "You're always waiting on that connection but have you ever felt it before? I mean, how do you know it's even real, that body, mind, spirit...magnet pull you believe so fiercely?"

It's the first time I've given her a genuine smile today as I tell her yes I have felt it before.
Briefly...
Bitter sweetly...

I just never got his last name.

It might have been years ago but I can still recall with clarity that electric tornado that seemed to have surrounded us.

We had only been gifted ten hours together but it left a mark on me for over fourteen years.
His face is definitely matured I imagine and his body shaped differently.
But I'll never mistake those sea green eyes, haloed by dusty blue cloud rings.  

The only boy who has ever made me want to get lost and never be found.

"Well...good luck with that. But until mystery man crashes back into your life, for god's sake live a little huh!"

She means well I'm sure but like an eager pup I just tsk at her goofily plastered expression and finish off the grainy remains of my only afternoon delight. She's in a hurry to make her "honey bunny" a homemade dinner anyway so it's not hard to cut things short on our weekly coffee shop vent session.

She's floating out the door before I even get my coat above my elbows but I can't feel offended.
Mulling over the uncomfortable idea of boring interaction with another stranger I decide to grab one more drink for the ride home.

Alone.

Oh, wonderful...now she's planted that seed.

Shaking it off, I order my vice and move benignly to wait and resolve to not think about anything related to that anymore either.

"Seems outrageous they charge so much for imitation don't you think?"

The question's asked to me but I pretend I can't hear it. A guy hitting on me today is not what I want to deal with.

And he seems to be standing right behind me
making goosebumps scatter across my neck.

He tries again, "So I guess you like buying bottom of the barrel cappuccino?"

This time I've gotten a little itchy from his voice and want him to just stop in his tracks.
So I turn to tell him where, in fact, he can go...

But I'm the one stopped short and a bit flabbergasted.

No way do things happen to me like this.

Those coincidental, lucky, fated things...

I almost wish I was a liar right now with the things I just spilled to my loyally, encouraging friend.
Because there is no way the universe would be this cruel.

Finally I exhale and word *****,

"They're the only place that taste just like the ones at my grandmas' house every summer when I was a girl. I waited a long time to find that connection again, even if it is just coffee..."

The smirking face and broad shoulders that greet me aren't the cause of my temporary delirium.
Not even the wild hair and black rimmed glasses.

It's the sea green, haloed dusty blue eyes centering all the rest that shallow my breaths

Of all the places.....

Like a falling satin sheet his face morphs into a query riddled expression.

I hear the barista call out a name and he reluctantly steps away, never taking his eyes off mine whispering,

"I'll...be right back. Don't move...please?"

I'm nodding like an awkward parrot and he turns to grab his imitation coffee.
The same kind I'm waiting on.
And I start smiling after a second.

Not because of the similar drink order, which could be anyone...

But because of something I haven't known until this moment for over fourteen years.
All thanks to fate, or destiny...
Or perhaps the oblivious barista.

His last name...


*© NDHK
Teresa Magaña Jan 2012
My Sweetness
My Fruit
Little bits of sourness that I have felt from dealing with boys ,..that I’ve let come, …in my life,…and just pass on through,
Like Tita from Agua Para Chocolate
Pouring her energy
Her feelings
Her heart in every dish she made
I poured and poured
10 bottles of red wine…Passionate red vibes
Into that Sangria containing my sweet fruit
And just a little bit,…little bite of lime
That little bit of sourness I hold inside
My energy flowing through every smile, word, and laughter that floated in the air
And bounced from vibe to vibe
And what did I get in return?
Not only the satisfaction of seeing and feeling everyone have such a great time
Giggles from buzzed and tipsy steps of folks passing me by
But the collection of singles, overflowing in the cute bartender’s tip jar
It was your singles
And his singles
And even her singles that filled up that jar
The collection of singles that fed the creative force of souls that night
Fed the souls
Fed the minds
Fed us with creativity
But most importantly
Fed us with awesome tacos at 2:30 in the morning from a place we happened to find right around the block
My Sangria bought us tip jar tacos that night

— The End —