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"vince" poems
I like giraffes. It's funny when they drink. I don't care for orange. I don't know why. It doesn't excite me. I don't expect it to excite me. Rainbows are okay. They're pretty cool. When I see one, I always say Hey! There's a rainbow. I like pillows. They're comfy. My pillow is the comfiest. Zebras are melancholy.
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Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
Vince on Life
“Disaster Dan” skids into the Center's Game Room War Room Control Room Fueled by a red T-shirt proclaiming “Vince the Pizza Prince” He flips out his cellular... “IT ISN'T UP TO ME!" (Where does he get all those broken remotes?) ...flips open his cell and shouts commands “TURN THE POWER ON!" “YA HEARD ME!" (He is totally in control) “Fsssss    Fssssss   Fsssssss THE PIPES ARE ABOUT TO BLOW!” Drives his cruiser around the pool table Pulls alongside Fixes me point-blank and cockeyed “GET THESE KIDS OUTA THE BUILDING! THERE'S A BOMB ABOUT TA GO OFF!” An eight-year-old spins iz finger round iz ear and points a giggle Dan-- the kind of guy whose life peaked at Mount Saint Helen Does a warlock for Halloween Carries a portable showcase of horror prized possessions in a dishpan He explains his treasures “That is NOT a plastic scorpion!” Offended by my ignorance shoves it in my eyes “THIS IS A PREDATOR ALIEN, STUPID!" “CALIFORNIA WILL NOT COME BACK!" Dan sorta likes me We talk horror flicks He forbids the serious of me "CALIFORNIA WILL FALL OFF INTO THE OCEAN!” he hisses in a spray of spit Walks way, laughing, delighted! Shaking iz head Then back in my face again (for emphasis) “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" (He is dead serious) "THE GUY THAT CAUSED THAT HURRICANE WAS PAUL MCCARTNEY!" His counselor fills in my blank “Dan likes the Beatles That's the only thing he likes that isn't heinous”
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Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 7:41 PM UTC
Well-Bound Predator/Flame 'O UFOs/Godzilla
*snow on the leaves and leaves on the snow frost on the moon o'er a red and green glow the evening is silent whilst I trim up the tree a warm fuzzy fire and Vince Guaraldi hot cocoa in hand I look out through the glass and softly reflect on Christmastimes past this is my happiness tonight*
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Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
my happiness tonight
weaving these paths with a lost sense of compass insouciant stroll when leaves crunch under toe earth and dirt, green smell the sign says no horses and an arrow points up the sun's fingers comb dry wood and ask: what is complacency? 'Lost self-sense,' J said; eyes drooping, Hoku mind heavy if the turtle wants to feel the spirit then he must walk slow ride the current from Indonesia to Ngulu Jamming in the name of the Lord like Robbie does and identify renewed, redemption song let us praise the Lord the jungle is cleaning her feathers she says: My favorite I say: My pleasure Laugh and pause-- no unheard cause feel the light happening through you and rebuild your pieces ''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''' Written by: Vince Chul'theg, MasikaniCorcodile and CrackPipeKenny (SpiderManJump)
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Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 11:23 PM UTC
When You Get Lost [Hoku] (Shelton-Narnia, CT 4/5/13)
“The vision must be followed by the venture. It is not enough to stare up the steps - we must step up the stairs.” -Vince Havner Anytime you hear a finger tapping on the glass, **** their firstborn. Anytime the man is cramp- ing your style, **** yourself. Anytime you wake up dead, **** the lights and roll over. Anytime you leave the people you love, **** or be killer.
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Feb 17, 2012
Feb 17, 2012 at 12:01 PM UTC
Escalation #2
Vince ate a green quince which made his tummy wince a wincing tummy was most disagreeable for poor Vince green quinces Vince shall be leaving alone as they cause his delicate tummy to moan and groan
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Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 7:47 PM UTC
Wince
AC/DC Black Sabbath Cranberries Disturbed Eisbrecher Falconer Godsmack Hatebreed Iced Earth Judas Priest King Diamond Led Zeppelin Marilyn Manson Nightwish Opeth Pantera Queen Rammstein ScHoolboy Q The Beatles Unleash The Archers Vince Staples White Zombie X Ambassadors Yung Gravy Zakk Wyllde
0
Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 4:51 PM UTC
Music A - Z
0303 9802 2004
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 10:49 PM UTC
Vince's Jukebox
uh now to part two ya know what im about to do **** you crew then to ya baby boo crazy as a Brooklyn zoo jump up if ya want too my 1 2 make ya body shake more than a holy ghost smoke the most givin a toast death yea so i hate to boast haters try but cant come close makin' most im passoverdose **** seed n liqour got me drunk indeed ya know how i flow gotta make money mo so **** a ** then check tha ** in the clubs still throwin' bows check how my caddy spinnin' on vogues white walls about seven inches tall now why dont ya fall way back like lebron hairline ya i like to exquisite dines with red wine put that on ya mind when ya grind i go harder slam ya like Vince Carter fools think im dumb but my game smarter always a starter ya rhymes be late so ya cant relate im.old school fool king of dons know the rules of war if ya want it come get it watch ya neck get slitted and if ya boys wanna jump too my guns mad ammos they can get hit with it
0
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 2:47 PM UTC
Freestyle
it all began when you decided to make me fall in love with you and it made sense, because I liked you and you liked me back for all the senseless wisdom I had you made me who I was afraid of careless, and ready to give back all the **** care I forgot about this world it never felt right, but it never felt wrong i did not realize it until everything fell apart in a blink of an eye I am a stranger to you Do you know how does that feel? ignored, when I thought I was something special? something you like? and something you want? haven't you i figured it out? that i fell into a bottomless pit no one and nothing to even catch my sorry as for me haven't you figured it out? that i fell for you and it's your fault but you left me, saying you love me but then i was nothing to you but i'm glad it's done buried in the past blurred in vision you hurt me, dear but I forgive you for all I care, I know you won't rot in hell, but at least in my memories *you'll regret, that once in your miserable life you took me for granted*
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Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC
Vince
"Doctor Doctor, help me please!" squealed Vince little hurtfully. "What is it?", asked the doctor, "Why have you come to me?" "Dr. Lee, I think I swallowed a little thing I remember not." in a sheepish tone did he reply, the only excuse he had got. "Now now," consoled the doctor while softly rubbing his back, "it would help you ease out a bit, first get rid of your anorak." "Open your mouth, need to check it may be removed ****** he said. To ease the pain he thought something "Lay your head down on the bed". Using a flashlight he peeked into the throat of little Vince Susie. "It looks like some blue coloured piece. Now you remember what it could be?" "Actually," started Vince, "I know what I had swallowed. It is a Lego brick." "What?" gasped the Doctor in horror, "Are you choking?" asked with a crick. "No, I am serious." Vince replied stupidly. The doctor couldn't control his smile. "You need to **** now, need to get that out as a whole." "Doctor? Why you cursing me?" queried Vince, as he thought the Doctor swore. Doctor clarified he did not, "Kid, other work to do, I have a lot more." Gave him a brine solution and a bucket to puke into Vince drank the brine with a glug And now he needed a tissue. Swallowed the piece, painfully so, but out came rushing his ***** pouring into the bucket Lego brick shot like a comet. "Thank you doctor, you were most kind." said Vince thankfully so, "But now I must be excused, as it definitely is my time to go." "Wait up!" stopped Dr. Lee, "Who's gonna pay your fees, dear lad?" "I don't think I need to pay, as My mom says you are my dad." -awkward silence-
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Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 3:47 AM UTC
What the Puke?
"Doctor Doctor, help me please!" squealed Vince little hurtfully. "What is it?", asked the doctor, "Why have you come to me?" "Dr. Lee, I think I swallowed a little thing I remember not." in a sheepish tone did he reply, the only excuse he had got. "Now now," consoled the doctor while softly rubbing his back, "it would help you ease out a bit, first get rid of your anorak." "Open your mouth, need to check it may be removed ****** he said. To ease the pain he thought something "Lay your head down on the bed". Using a flashlight he peeked into the throat of little Vince Susie. "It looks like some blue coloured piece. Now you remember what it could be?" "Actually," started Vince, "I know what I had swallowed. It is a Lego brick." "What?" gasped the Doctor in horror, "Are you choking?" asked with a crick. "No, I am serious." Vince replied stupidly. The doctor couldn't control his smile. "You need to **** now, need to get that out as a whole." "Doctor? Why you cursing me?" queried Vince, as he thought the Doctor swore. Doctor clarified he did not, "Kid, other work to do, I have a lot more." Gave him a brine solution and a bucket to puke into Vince drank the brine with a glug And now he needed a tissue. Swallowed the piece, painfully so, but out came rushing his ***** pouring into the bucket Lego brick shot like a comet. "Thank you doctor, you were most kind." said Vince thankfully so, "But now I must be excused, as it definitely is my time to go." "Wait up!" stopped Dr. Lee, "Who's gonna pay your fees, dear lad?" "I don't think I need to pay, as My mom says you are my dad." -awkward silence-
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"Yeah buddy, how've you been man?!" "Let's forget that, want to talk about the things we've forgotten?" He looks at me analyzing, and perplexed by, my intentions against the blank slate that is my face. "Yeah! Right? Been trying hard to forget this winter dude, the snow is killing me!" Matt turns away, takes a slug and summons Vince over in order to order a shot of cinnamon whiskey. I turn to wheel of fortune and start counting letters in potential words when I say "I bet I've forgotten more things than you can remember" "..." "Excuse me?" He turns back with fireball eyes and whiskey in his hand and I'm startled by the voracity of his intoxication. Smiling yet totally instigated he looks me in the eye, takes his shot and states "are you ridiculing my memories man? You think you had it harder than me?" pointing at my chest "Anyone can see how privileged you ******* are." I shut up, turn back to wheel and practice my silence. He drains his beer and steps out into the suffocating snow. Beautiful snow. I imagine stuffing great white handfuls of the wet stuff into his face for all eternity. Is the snow killing you now BUDDY?! Lets talk about the weather MAN!! Tell me all about it DUDE!
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Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 10:17 PM UTC
*** 'r dun
"Gin and tonic Vince." "What, no shots tonight Jason?" "It's Justin, and no." "Well howabouta beer Justin?" "Yeah alright."
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Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
Diluted
give me a chance to take you out for one last night in the city, as the angels sleep on the sidewalks, and the reptiles snore in the white house. I'm crying alone while your friends check their phones, smoke their vapes, and Brady the dog nudges my leg with his snout, soft as a napkin wiping breadcrumbs off a table. Chipotle before we write diary entries for our children who look like your ex-boyfriend. Tell them stories past their curfew, as their heads cloud with dreams, where nothing but beauty blooms, and sadness goes to pasture, to be cooked on a rotisserie, and spit out into bits. like your flesh when it's been burnt by a lighter. so listen up, finish your game of FIFA, then make me laugh, so that I could forget about yesterday's fight.
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Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 9:35 PM UTC
Vince
Scott took a slug of his beer, reached deep into the breast pocket of his coat, and pulled out an empty pack of marlboros. He flipped the top and was distraught when he saw the empty space where his addiction should've been hiding. As he shrugged his way into that coat, which has warmed him for years, he thought: *Jeez, these sleeves are ******* cold!* He told Vince, the immortal barkeep, that he'd return ever so briefly as he stepped out into the weighted rains and ceaseless winds. Making his way down the road towards the inevitable gas station while counting his dollars and cents, Scott is blinded to the world. But a seventh sense strikes him suddenly and he hears his neck creak as he looks up, over, and across the busy street. Wait, he thinks, *how did she get here?* yet there she stands alone on the corner. I'm drunk, the thoughts roar, she's no more.. Cars and trucks cut through his vision and she is but an afterimage, her dripping hair blowing in the unforgetting winds. She's gone man, his mind screams to him, but it's his eyes that deter potential lies. He actually sees her over there, even meeting her own eyes in an endless moment of futility. Whispering incomprehensibly to himself he steps towards her, onto the street. That's when life becomes shrouded in screeching tires and burning brakes, and Scott forgets all about his smoke break. That's when life becomes darkness, and she fades away into the rain as a bus paints the road with his brain.
0
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 8:47 PM UTC
Dying for a Cigarette
People don't hate me as much as I like to con- vince myself they do.
0
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 7:19 PM UTC
things i tell myself when im down but forget once i feel better
Mach my words, that time travel aye foresee (rather than being at a stand still, nee frozen analogous to cry oh ja hen nicks, or more particularly going backwards) this chap doth espy great breakthroughs, asper similar advances this guy i.e. myself witnesses quantum leaps I learn (reading The University Of Penn Gazette) the Burmese doctoral engineering student Kai Sir Von Wilhelm Harris made profound advances within advanced combined research laboratory of rocket surgery and brain science set my mouth ajar (with rivulets of drool spilling forth) constructing a simple to assemble gizmo (avail able common household materials rendered unto YouTube), and/or Cable Comcast, Fios, Infosys, et cetera which accidental discovery automatically codified feign top secret "FAKE" news to enable boot (simply for formality sake) code named Clark Gable yet in reality (a faux veil of secrecy) to con Vince sing lee foster an inimitable mystique, button truth for general public to unzip noble no red bull) knowable handy escape to past or future and essentially unlocked laudable simple "household solution" to become the latest craze (synonymous with an ****** - manageable minus addiction, conviction, and excruciation viz zit operable via needle marks of the masses within a fortnight necessary supplies sans quantifiable while Das Donald Trump could enact legislation satisfiable knowing majority being totally tubularly oblivious unalterable measures permanently infringing on inalienable rights such as life, liberty and the pursuit of winnable pacification.
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Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 2:20 AM UTC
reverse orbitz
Mach my words, that time travel aye foresee (rather than being at a stand still, nee frozen analogous to cry oh ja hen nicks, or more particularly going backwards) this chap doth espy great breakthroughs, asper similar advances this guy i.e. myself witnesses quantum leaps I learn (reading The University Of Penn Gazette) the Burmese doctoral engineering student Kai Sir Von Wilhelm Harris made profound advances within advanced combined research laboratory of rocket surgery and brain science set my mouth ajar (with rivulets of drool spilling forth) constructing a simple to assemble gizmo (avail able common household materials rendered unto YouTube), and/or Cable Comcast, Fios, Infosys, et cetera which accidental discovery automatically codified feign top secret "FAKE" news to enable boot (simply for formality sake) code named Clark Gable yet in reality (a faux veil of secrecy) to con Vince sing lee foster an inimitable mystique, button truth for general public to unzip noble no red bull) knowable handy escape to past or future and essentially unlocked laudable simple "household solution" to become the latest craze (synonymous with an ****** - manageable minus addiction, conviction, and excruciation viz zit operable via needle marks of the masses within a fortnight necessary supplies sans quantifiable while Das Donald Trump could enact legislation satisfiable knowing majority being totally tubularly oblivious unalterable measures permanently infringing on inalienable rights such as life, liberty and the pursuit of winnable pacification.
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54
i had a dream, and you were kissing me. and to be quite honest, if you kissed me like that every time i fell asleep i would never want to wake up.
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Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 5:53 AM UTC
vince
i would call it magical but nothing tricked my eye it was all expected but came unexpectedly drinking black coffee under conversations about craters vast lands and museums explaining the Internet wifi and logins to an aerospace engineer (we were stuck in a snowglobe) we’ve got to think a million years in advance. ~ok. and we never know when Yellow Stone will blow. ~ok. he’s explaining the needs the elements the equations all tied through Einstein’s theory of relativity and i ask algebra plus chemistry equals physics? yes. ok. now. you see -he states the fission leaves a proton out which creates x y z energy to get to the maximum capacity (80-85%) of light speed. (we’ll never achieve 100% because e=mc squared tells us we can’t) ~ok. now the reason why kids these days must listen. according to these elementary calculations we need frozen fertilized eggs. ~ok. now listen. the closest star system that we can escape to (Centauri) is 4.37 light years from here. and now, at 25 years to complete a light year, we’re looking at 109.25 years to get there (ponder). that’s more than a century. ~you see. we have to act now. and this is why i’m telling you. then i read, the sands of present time are running from under our feet. Brion Gysin told me, it’s the Great Conundrum (colon): “What are we here for (question mark)? is all that ever held us here in the first place (statement). F • E • A • R the answer to the riddle of the Ages has actually been out on the street since the first step in space. mike and i staring at Pete thinking of Vic listening to Brion simultaneously (em dash)—— who runs may read but few people run fast enough. again, “What are we here for?” does the great metaphysical nut revolve around that? then he explains… “i’ll crack it for you, right now.” ok. what are we here for? we are here to go (pause). and so I went. —————– running as fast as i could to books, web pages, the library, my kids, Vince, my clients, my wife ¡we must do something! that no one will ever see nor know about! and not one listened.
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May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 6:32 PM UTC
here to go
i would call it magical but nothing tricked my eye it was all expected but came unexpectedly drinking black coffee under conversations about craters vast lands and museums explaining the Internet wifi and logins to an aerospace engineer (we were stuck in a snowglobe) we’ve got to think a million years in advance. ~ok. and we never know when Yellow Stone will blow. ~ok. he’s explaining the needs the elements the equations all tied through Einstein’s theory of relativity and i ask algebra plus chemistry equals physics? yes. ok. now. you see -he states the fission leaves a proton out which creates x y z energy to get to the maximum capacity (80-85%) of light speed. (we’ll never achieve 100% because e=mc squared tells us we can’t) ~ok. now the reason why kids these days must listen. according to these elementary calculations we need frozen fertilized eggs. ~ok. now listen. the closest star system that we can escape to (Centauri) is 4.37 light years from here. and now, at 25 years to complete a light year, we’re looking at 109.25 years to get there (ponder). that’s more than a century. ~you see. we have to act now. and this is why i’m telling you. then i read, the sands of present time are running from under our feet. Brion Gysin told me, it’s the Great Conundrum (colon): “What are we here for (question mark)? is all that ever held us here in the first place (statement). F • E • A • R the answer to the riddle of the Ages has actually been out on the street since the first step in space. mike and i staring at Pete thinking of Vic listening to Brion simultaneously (em dash)—— who runs may read but few people run fast enough. again, “What are we here for?” does the great metaphysical nut revolve around that? then he explains… “i’ll crack it for you, right now.” ok. what are we here for? we are here to go (pause). and so I went. —————– running as fast as i could to books, web pages, the library, my kids, Vince, my clients, my wife ¡we must do something! that no one will ever see nor know about! and not one listened.
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160
özenti mi dünyanın dört bir yanından kuş uçurmak ya da yakan top oynamak şükran günü hindi çığlığında clark çeksem uzaktan öpsem vaftizli dudağını mona’nın ne çıkar tango yahut çiftetelli oynasam kime ne odun beline sarılsam şefika’nın ben benimdir, ben’imdir şiir ama ben değil, sanat evrenseldir victor’un hüzzam şarkısı sefiller tolstoy’un geçimsiz oğulları savaş ve barış hatta da vinci’den çekici vince kadar yazılabilir yazabilirim paco de lucia’yı yılmaz güney leyla gencer’i ve phuket caddelerinde karahindiba olduğumu zeytin yağlı sarmaya bar hesabı yüzünden ayıp mı suç mu yazsam yırt kazım’ı ki yazmışlığım vardır, mala vurmaya geldim’i buharlı mevsimin puslu geçitlerinde lâkin biraz büyüdüm galiba büyüydüm bi zaman yani harcandım sonra fakat, istikrar göklerde göklerse mısraların tarçınlı tavuk göğsü.. ve otobanda uçuşan mavi, beyaz, turuncu arabalar eskitirken günü örsümde baraquda gibi göz kırpmayı özlüyorum wise’ın gülen gözlerinde...
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Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 2:04 AM UTC
Kiss me poem
Yo to keep it 100 - If I could go back in time I wouldn't. Let the records hold they place. I'm done tryin to convince you both the things I been threw. Before my jersey was in the rafters, I was like Vince before he left the Raptors, Bounding over boundaries like I had shox in my shoes. You see I tried to impress the judges - I was shocked by the boo's, My heart turned colder than Toronto cause all my exes were actors, See I had to ditch diplomacy ; depend against my attackers, I felt like a loan warrior and then suddenly - I grew, My limbs stretched further than my imagination, My torso was more so like a river basin, but as my body grew in size , the guilt I carried did too, Before I knew it - my shadow covered the ground like a sheet, Amazed by the mass I had amassed - I was in disbelief I now stood more than 81 ft, Now everything I never knew was within my reach, But peep The burdens that I bear be on some revenant. I fed my guilt, it fed off me - I was JUST like Rick Moranis. I'm Ja Morant or maybe more like Miles Morales.. I'm more and more embarrassed ..by the Aurora Borealus..... left by my shame. I was forced to swallows my pride - **** be ****** up my larynx, But I'm boarding up my barracks, And I'm suggesting you to do the same, I'm running gags like lil homie from home alone, I been on DND ever since karma called my home, Mfs want my jazz but not my blues - I'm more like Karl Malone, I tried to blame the refs for my fugue state, when it was me that here .. in the first place. The victim was the culprit. Over me it loomed - dropped an anvil of anguish like they do in ****** tunes, I'm hangin on by a thread not even lilo could stitch me, Had to walk it like I talk it - fate tied the shoes on my tongue, My skin singed by the sharp pain of the 1000 looks, My skull crushed under the weight of 1000 books, I had to eat my words, I couldn't stomach it, My indigestion was incomprehensible, My miscomprehension of of my tendons was indefensible, The guilt of feelin like a ship with no direction. That gut feelin to cut feelins cause **** get deep like a Cesarean Section..
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Jul 2, 2024
Jul 2, 2024 at 5:13 PM UTC
Guilt Chamberlain
Yo to keep it 100 - If I could go back in time I wouldn't. Let the records hold they place. I'm done tryin to convince you both the things I been threw. Before my jersey was in the rafters, I was like Vince before he left the Raptors, Bounding over boundaries like I had shox in my shoes. You see I tried to impress the judges - I was shocked by the boo's, My heart turned colder than Toronto cause all my exes were actors, See I had to ditch diplomacy ; depend against my attackers, I felt like a loan warrior and then suddenly - I grew, My limbs stretched further than my imagination, My torso was more so like a river basin, but as my body grew in size , the guilt I carried did too, Before I knew it - my shadow covered the ground like a sheet, Amazed by the mass I had amassed - I was in disbelief I now stood more than 81 ft, Now everything I never knew was within my reach, But peep The burdens that I bear be on some revenant. I fed my guilt, it fed off me - I was JUST like Rick Moranis. I'm Ja Morant or maybe more like Miles Morales.. I'm more and more embarrassed ..by the Aurora Borealus..... left by my shame. I was forced to swallows my pride - **** be ****** up my larynx, But I'm boarding up my barracks, And I'm suggesting you to do the same, I'm running gags like lil homie from home alone, I been on DND ever since karma called my home, Mfs want my jazz but not my blues - I'm more like Karl Malone, I tried to blame the refs for my fugue state, when it was me that here .. in the first place. The victim was the culprit. Over me it loomed - dropped an anvil of anguish like they do in ****** tunes, I'm hangin on by a thread not even lilo could stitch me, Had to walk it like I talk it - fate tied the shoes on my tongue, My skin singed by the sharp pain of the 1000 looks, My skull crushed under the weight of 1000 books, I had to eat my words, I couldn't stomach it, My indigestion was incomprehensible, My miscomprehension of of my tendons was indefensible, The guilt of feelin like a ship with no direction. That gut feelin to cut feelins cause **** get deep like a Cesarean Section..
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42
I was asked why I write poetry. So here are the facts, and just to recap this sometimes called rap. This is poetry. It is in everything we do. Poetry is your family stress, your pregnancy test, and your house cleaning mess; and poetry is me because it is in me too. This is the sense that blind Vince sees in. It is the movie young Julie wants to be in. It’s the last minute Jack and Coke for alcoholic Jack and the last free **** for a broke bloke to smoke. Poetry is how a grieving widow copes. Also a good joke told really well because poetry is a heavenly punch line and a one-way ticket to find hell. It is the way the leaves pile up on the ground. Every intricate intertwining of never mind me, step on down broken brown. Poetry is the “how are you this morning” (a stranger wrote that line) It is the "how-to-book" to have when times look boring and “Poetry is the loud fan that sounds out over the snoring” (an ex-girlfriend wrote that line) It’s the epitome of a perfect day. The rock and hard place when things don’t go your way. It is the time spent learning miracles at public schools and I learned that “Poetry is all around. Class... Isn’t that cool?” (my ex-teacher wrote that line) But if it is all around then why have I found the need to constantly write it down? Why do I find that when times get thick I find writing a really good poem does the trick? Who can tell me why it is when a girl falls for that guy she fills up her notebook college lined with a poem of his blue eyes? “But I have green eyes”(a rejected me wrote that line) Poetry is the captain’s stormed ocean. Poetry is the pilot’s warm sky. Poetry is like trying to throw knives like words. We exist where they hit and we need to quit getting absurd trying to hit things. Poetry is all about the truth, getting kissed in ink. You have to tattoo what the words mean to you. The only thing I wish to do is find a Sharpie and sharply write the words I’m sorry because that’s the only thing I know how to say. Poetry is spending the last 20 minutes looking at the words "I love you" written across their ceiling and not wanting to risk speaking them, making the roof fall down around you.
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Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 10:46 AM UTC
I Wrote These Lines
I was asked why I write poetry. So here are the facts, and just to recap this sometimes called rap. This is poetry. It is in everything we do. Poetry is your family stress, your pregnancy test, and your house cleaning mess; and poetry is me because it is in me too. This is the sense that blind Vince sees in. It is the movie young Julie wants to be in. It’s the last minute Jack and Coke for alcoholic Jack and the last free **** for a broke bloke to smoke. Poetry is how a grieving widow copes. Also a good joke told really well because poetry is a heavenly punch line and a one-way ticket to find hell. It is the way the leaves pile up on the ground. Every intricate intertwining of never mind me, step on down broken brown. Poetry is the “how are you this morning” (a stranger wrote that line) It is the "how-to-book" to have when times look boring and “Poetry is the loud fan that sounds out over the snoring” (an ex-girlfriend wrote that line) It’s the epitome of a perfect day. The rock and hard place when things don’t go your way. It is the time spent learning miracles at public schools and I learned that “Poetry is all around. Class... Isn’t that cool?” (my ex-teacher wrote that line) But if it is all around then why have I found the need to constantly write it down? Why do I find that when times get thick I find writing a really good poem does the trick? Who can tell me why it is when a girl falls for that guy she fills up her notebook college lined with a poem of his blue eyes? “But I have green eyes”(a rejected me wrote that line) Poetry is the captain’s stormed ocean. Poetry is the pilot’s warm sky. Poetry is like trying to throw knives like words. We exist where they hit and we need to quit getting absurd trying to hit things. Poetry is all about the truth, getting kissed in ink. You have to tattoo what the words mean to you. The only thing I wish to do is find a Sharpie and sharply write the words I’m sorry because that’s the only thing I know how to say. Poetry is spending the last 20 minutes looking at the words "I love you" written across their ceiling and not wanting to risk speaking them, making the roof fall down around you.
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Were it my duty to con vince a fool  I would try To understand my own reason before answering Lest I be like the fool met in his folly. Experience vicariously pre carious edge standing I know chaos never resolves into synchronized living systems. Never has. Never will. Still You can think differently. Find a way any thing can be And being, come to, eventually, be a part of you that works. A chloroplast Or some thing, mechanical, inside a cell inside of you. Chance, bon chance, sunbeams captured in greens ground To ruminated mush in bovine bellies find their way in Packets of protein to ---- One of the things that loved enemies do is provoke you To good works, to right use of the talent found beneath the rock that crushed you Like a bug.
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Aug 21, 2021
Aug 21, 2021 at 3:34 PM UTC
Talking to myself, self correcting (c.2017)