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"vroom" poems
Mon papa, c'est le plus fort des papas. Mon papa, c'est le plus beau des papas. Mon papa, même quand il est fatigué, on dirait Richard Gere. Mon papa, même si il est carnivore, moi, je l'aime quand même. Mon papa, quand il mange, on dirait qu'il a 5 ans, mais moi, je l'aime quand même. Mon papa, il a des voitures super cool qui font vroom. Mon papa, quand il conduit, on dirait Michel Vaillant, même pas peur. Mon papa, quand il me dit bonne nuit, j'ai même plus peur. Les monstres sous mon lit, eux, ils se désintègrent avec la force des bisous de mon papa. Mon papa, parfois, il ronfle et je l'aime quand même. Mon papa, quand on est dans la piscine, il joue au crocrodile avec nous. Mon papa, quand il porte des choses, les manches de sa chemise se déchire sous les muscles. Mon papa, avec une barbe, on dirait un homme des caverne, c'est trop cool. Mon papa, quand il fait des câlins, on disparait sous ses couches d'amour. Mon papa, quand il nous emmène faire du shopping, il supporte des heures et il sourit. Mon papa, il nous laisse faire des trucs qui lui font peur, mais il veut nous faire plaisir, alors il dit oui. Mon papa, il m'a laissé faire du saut en parachute, et je suis même pas morte. Mon papa, il râle parfois mais on sait qu'en fait, c'est parce qu'il nous aime. Mon papa, même quand il voyage, il pense à nous. Mon papa, il nous emmène en voyage avec des photos tout le temps quand il travail. Mon papa, il nous emmène en voyage tout le temps quand il est en vacances. Mon papa, il fait des trucs de papa trop génial. Par exemple, il connait nos restaurants préférés, et il sait ce qui nous fait plaisir. Alors il nous y emmène. Mon papa, même quand il est en colère, il est beau. Mon papa, quand il sourit il est comme Thor, le dieu du tonnerre, il est puissant. Du coup, parfois, ma maman elle fait un nervous break down. Parce que mon papa il est trop beau c'est même pas normal. Mon papa, il a un double menton pour que si un jour Game Of Thrones arrive dans la vraie vie, on pourra pas lui trancher la gorge. Mon papa, il fait du vélo plus vite que le Tour de France. La preuve, ca fait des années qu'ils sont en France, mon papa, lui, il est déjà à Dubai. Mon papa, parfois il oublie notre anniversaire quand on lui demande au pif, mais il oublie jamais de le souhaiter, donc on lui pardonne. Mon papa, il voyage en first class. Mon papa, il connait les aéroports mieux que James Bond. Mon papa, il regarde des series TV de jeunes. Mon papa, il porte des costards. Mon papa, il nous emmène manger des dans endroits incroyables. Mon papa, il nous emmène dans des hôtels de luxe. Mon papa, il devrait être président du monde. Mon papa, il est mieux que les autres papa parce que c'est le mien. Mon papa, il est irremplaçable. Mon papa, si on m'en donnait un autre, j'en voudrais pas. Mon papa, je veux que celui la. Mon papa il est pas toujours là, mais c'est pas grave, parce qu'il est jamais **** Mon papa, il traverse le monde mais après il nous raconte, alors c'est cool. Mon papa, il fait une super vinaigrette. Dommage que j'aime pas la vinaigrette. Mon papa, quand il fait un barbeque, ca fait beaucoup de fumée et pas beaucoup de feu, mais c'est pour mieux nous impressioner quand il fait rôtir la viande. Mon papa, il parle Anglais. Mon papa, c'est le meilleur papa du monde. Mon papa, je l'aime, même si maintenant, il a presque un demi siècle. Mon papa, c'est comme un druide. Ca meurt jamais. C'est trop cool. Mon papa, c'est comme une mode indémodable, tu veux jamais le remplacer, il est toujours tendance. Mon papa, on peut pas le comparer a une mode fashion, parce que c'est un humain. Mon papa, c'est le meilleur humain que je connaisse. Avec ma maman et ma soeur et mon chat, mais chuuuuut. C'est un secret. Mais ce que je préfère à propos de mon papa, c'est que dès que je le vois, je peux lui dire: "mon papa, je l'aime."
0
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 12:08 PM UTC
Mon papa
Mon papa, c'est le plus fort des papas. Mon papa, c'est le plus beau des papas. Mon papa, même quand il est fatigué, on dirait Richard Gere. Mon papa, même si il est carnivore, moi, je l'aime quand même. Mon papa, quand il mange, on dirait qu'il a 5 ans, mais moi, je l'aime quand même. Mon papa, il a des voitures super cool qui font vroom. Mon papa, quand il conduit, on dirait Michel Vaillant, même pas peur. Mon papa, quand il me dit bonne nuit, j'ai même plus peur. Les monstres sous mon lit, eux, ils se désintègrent avec la force des bisous de mon papa. Mon papa, parfois, il ronfle et je l'aime quand même. Mon papa, quand on est dans la piscine, il joue au crocrodile avec nous. Mon papa, quand il porte des choses, les manches de sa chemise se déchire sous les muscles. Mon papa, avec une barbe, on dirait un homme des caverne, c'est trop cool. Mon papa, quand il fait des câlins, on disparait sous ses couches d'amour. Mon papa, quand il nous emmène faire du shopping, il supporte des heures et il sourit. Mon papa, il nous laisse faire des trucs qui lui font peur, mais il veut nous faire plaisir, alors il dit oui. Mon papa, il m'a laissé faire du saut en parachute, et je suis même pas morte. Mon papa, il râle parfois mais on sait qu'en fait, c'est parce qu'il nous aime. Mon papa, même quand il voyage, il pense à nous. Mon papa, il nous emmène en voyage avec des photos tout le temps quand il travail. Mon papa, il nous emmène en voyage tout le temps quand il est en vacances. Mon papa, il fait des trucs de papa trop génial. Par exemple, il connait nos restaurants préférés, et il sait ce qui nous fait plaisir. Alors il nous y emmène. Mon papa, même quand il est en colère, il est beau. Mon papa, quand il sourit il est comme Thor, le dieu du tonnerre, il est puissant. Du coup, parfois, ma maman elle fait un nervous break down. Parce que mon papa il est trop beau c'est même pas normal. Mon papa, il a un double menton pour que si un jour Game Of Thrones arrive dans la vraie vie, on pourra pas lui trancher la gorge. Mon papa, il fait du vélo plus vite que le Tour de France. La preuve, ca fait des années qu'ils sont en France, mon papa, lui, il est déjà à Dubai. Mon papa, parfois il oublie notre anniversaire quand on lui demande au pif, mais il oublie jamais de le souhaiter, donc on lui pardonne. Mon papa, il voyage en first class. Mon papa, il connait les aéroports mieux que James Bond. Mon papa, il regarde des series TV de jeunes. Mon papa, il porte des costards. Mon papa, il nous emmène manger des dans endroits incroyables. Mon papa, il nous emmène dans des hôtels de luxe. Mon papa, il devrait être président du monde. Mon papa, il est mieux que les autres papa parce que c'est le mien. Mon papa, il est irremplaçable. Mon papa, si on m'en donnait un autre, j'en voudrais pas. Mon papa, je veux que celui la. Mon papa il est pas toujours là, mais c'est pas grave, parce qu'il est jamais **** Mon papa, il traverse le monde mais après il nous raconte, alors c'est cool. Mon papa, il fait une super vinaigrette. Dommage que j'aime pas la vinaigrette. Mon papa, quand il fait un barbeque, ca fait beaucoup de fumée et pas beaucoup de feu, mais c'est pour mieux nous impressioner quand il fait rôtir la viande. Mon papa, il parle Anglais. Mon papa, c'est le meilleur papa du monde. Mon papa, je l'aime, même si maintenant, il a presque un demi siècle. Mon papa, c'est comme un druide. Ca meurt jamais. C'est trop cool. Mon papa, c'est comme une mode indémodable, tu veux jamais le remplacer, il est toujours tendance. Mon papa, on peut pas le comparer a une mode fashion, parce que c'est un humain. Mon papa, c'est le meilleur humain que je connaisse. Avec ma maman et ma soeur et mon chat, mais chuuuuut. C'est un secret. Mais ce que je préfère à propos de mon papa, c'est que dès que je le vois, je peux lui dire: "mon papa, je l'aime."
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59
God is spoken From a potent Thing we smoking Trees Gaia birthed the bloom breathed the boom in the canopies, In the wind flew the bees and grew the pleasantries Prana pushing thunder through sQuishing lemon trees   like a hundred new Whisps of mists and heavy deeds Sit with honeydew The gist of this the lemon breeze (We) Going tunnel view Fits and Shakes, seeking remedies digging under you Might be dicking under you Might be Torn asunder true Pirate borne to plunder you.... Sweat means gold, what's been found with lemon -ease? I've been told What in our eyes is what we ever see's 7 seas, more like 7 deeds, filled with deadly feeds Demons like to pleade with ready rease, Virus, the life that spread disease (it alters our sense and what we please) ~Ahem,   ***no te comas la verdad del diablo,***   today to trust Might feel bad, but none brought low There's an easy in WE  Strong Standin', N0ne brought low and now we win amen, a man none start south Its begun... Light as Potent as my prayers **** the make-believe ***I can't wear it, ah Dark is Ever reaching What do you receive? ***What you carrying hah? Balance (Is) an even preaching : What we choose to be ***I can bear it ; hah Come  and help me unweave those who have been so deceived Those stuck in in the mud of ... sputtering " how can it be ?" **** the you or me, mentality When Neurons Fire free and Serotonins drained in me You Might find Saraswati sweetly swathing me In glowing rivers, poured off the moon With Omens looming soon With Omens looming soon I been choking on my doom. Dreaming with Both eyes open and a heart awoken , poorly stoking gloom Too blind to see hope but stoked, still mocking roving Vroom : im off to tokin soon. Sh!t this blunt be totaled soon I Might be total loon an inverted magic man who most often enwomb those caught on the moon Those stuck in the tune For those who hear this earworm, this tea room sloom. This is for Those muted in zoom: I've found traction in heaps Breaking as hard and often As the risen yeast When you pass on the least My Passion is to find the passion of peace its Stuck In the  grasp Fashioned with the sap of my last energies...
0
May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 12:27 AM UTC
They Call him Ah-Wah-Keh
God is spoken From a potent Thing we smoking Trees Gaia birthed the bloom breathed the boom in the canopies, In the wind flew the bees and grew the pleasantries Prana pushing thunder through sQuishing lemon trees   like a hundred new Whisps of mists and heavy deeds Sit with honeydew The gist of this the lemon breeze (We) Going tunnel view Fits and Shakes, seeking remedies digging under you Might be dicking under you Might be Torn asunder true Pirate borne to plunder you.... Sweat means gold, what's been found with lemon -ease? I've been told What in our eyes is what we ever see's 7 seas, more like 7 deeds, filled with deadly feeds Demons like to pleade with ready rease, Virus, the life that spread disease (it alters our sense and what we please) ~Ahem,   ***no te comas la verdad del diablo,***   today to trust Might feel bad, but none brought low There's an easy in WE  Strong Standin', N0ne brought low and now we win amen, a man none start south Its begun... Light as Potent as my prayers **** the make-believe ***I can't wear it, ah Dark is Ever reaching What do you receive? ***What you carrying hah? Balance (Is) an even preaching : What we choose to be ***I can bear it ; hah Come  and help me unweave those who have been so deceived Those stuck in in the mud of ... sputtering " how can it be ?" **** the you or me, mentality When Neurons Fire free and Serotonins drained in me You Might find Saraswati sweetly swathing me In glowing rivers, poured off the moon With Omens looming soon With Omens looming soon I been choking on my doom. Dreaming with Both eyes open and a heart awoken , poorly stoking gloom Too blind to see hope but stoked, still mocking roving Vroom : im off to tokin soon. Sh!t this blunt be totaled soon I Might be total loon an inverted magic man who most often enwomb those caught on the moon Those stuck in the tune For those who hear this earworm, this tea room sloom. This is for Those muted in zoom: I've found traction in heaps Breaking as hard and often As the risen yeast When you pass on the least My Passion is to find the passion of peace its Stuck In the  grasp Fashioned with the sap of my last energies...
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107
Around the world swinging my hips, A hula hoop queen Wrapped up in our nation’s flag I’ll be your American dream Microphone miss superstar, shake the feathers in my hair Honey you’re my favorite audience, you know I love it when you stare Late night rooftop philosopher, tell you everything on my mind Lover archeologist, boy you’re the best thing I’ll ever find Little baby human canvas tattooed up my wrist Turn into a woman fast when you grab me for a kiss Vroom Vroom Racecar driver when I follow you up north Lit up your sky fire works on our first July fourth Princess of the gas station, buy me cherry gum Lighting up my cigarette, won’t forget to spark you one You lived a world of black and white, and that is not a lot so I’ll bring in my vibrant reds, you got yourself Picasso I know I scare you at most times, but never should you quiver For my king at his request, the queen is sure to deliver Apache chief rain dance girl, my tribe calls me brave heart But I’m not always so courageous; I’m just trying to be smart I’m thinking with my heart so fast the pumping blood’s still blue But it beats, and I do all these things, I do them all for you.
0
Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 7:17 PM UTC
All for you.
I can’t help but mourn the frogs, flattened like Wile E. Coyote after the inevitable boulder plummets from a great height, leaving him mashed on the pavement while the Roadrunner speeds off - vroom, vroom, beep, beep. I try to steer around them, but they blanket the road in biblical numbers during the rain and it’s like some impossible video game weaving through masses of randomly hopping life a certain amount of death is unavoidable. When I walk the road I can’t stop counting one, two, five, ten, twenty cartoon-flat bodies littering the pavement where I extinguished their glittering copper and golden-green existence. Last night, on the panes of every lit window frogs of all sizes and colors gathered outside, they covered doors, watering cans even lined up single file on the coiled garden hose like they were climbing the ladder to frog heaven. Through the glass, I admired their rhythmic throats and soft, creamy, underbellies one, two, five, ten, twenty fragile creatures seeking warmth in the hastening darkness.
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Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 1:14 PM UTC
Frogs
royals mistake the tears cried over animals, esp. those wild and not petted, as if they were man’s added 1 to a million ‘ stones in minature form of the sandy: see that singleton quotation mark? it’s different pause from comma semi-colon or hyphen, it’s the ironic pause - almost compounding the two words. i skullhead i, i the skullhead, i, no more a body than a maxim, i the tomb in stone but in body a bone, i skullhead i, i the skullhead, no more a body than a maxim - why will not death wilt before engaging in the lives or mortals? why will death meddle in mortal amorousness when it will not meddle in a death of a god? **** you death! meddle elsewhere! who are prone to breathe the same air as you; interesting lives make less of a library than libraries readily mothering the lives hardly lived but nonetheless written... eager ***** in section 1, less eager ***** in section 1.5 mature ***** in sectiont 2 of being crazed by crosswords and those dumb books written by young men who "diverged from living" given horse was replaced by motorcycle... and feet were replaced by horse later replaced by ferrari... vroom vroom... and affordable life in london by saudi arabia investments; let's wave to our mothers... we'll be the ones on the premier red carpet for sure... it doesn't matter... i prefer opera to cinematic raqqa... and i prefer theatre to conversation.
0
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
carved with an ivory toothpick / where’s the rhino or harry?!
~ Sitting on my rhinestone lotus pond floating around in my oceanic bedroom The haunting begins its sinister buzzing with a silent ‘vroom’ Wooden door opening by itself My jeweled heartbeat falls from a bone frame shelf Demons hanging like poisoned vines from the painted ceiling sky Gods then pours their breath inside my empty soul, drowning all insinuated lies Butterfly piano keys fluttering their enchanted melodies The notes dripping pearls of discarded lullabies into my hidden pleas Lost dreams entangled in my seashell hair As I sit cradling broken memories in my emerald iris, the ones I’ve forgotten to share Dead skin peeling from my fingertips as I turn a dusty page in my notebook Loose frays of secrets coming apart, falling away in my Underland outlook I remember the day I recreated my being, as I drew Self into a mermaid rose Piercing my revolving face with a jagged pen, **** fairytales bleeding from my lips, a new world I chose My dress of ivory seaweed has caught onto a sharp end I sink into the onyx murky depths of my rhinestone lotus pond, wishing for a friend Discarded Bombarded Licking death, seeing the dead My attire drifts in the sulphide air, swirling with the essence of dread I now leave my surreal sanctuary As rhinestones melt, the pond drains, the lotus folds its metal origami I’m back from the world I created Back to reality where a sententious poet is constantly hated Back to a butterfly wallpapered bedroom where hallucination spend Yea I’m back, but not for long, not until inspiration comes and I swallow my pen And into my notebook realm I will be back in my own world again… ~
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Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 3:17 AM UTC
Rhinestone Lotus Pond
~ Sitting on my rhinestone lotus pond floating around in my oceanic bedroom The haunting begins its sinister buzzing with a silent ‘vroom’ Wooden door opening by itself My jeweled heartbeat falls from a bone frame shelf Demons hanging like poisoned vines from the painted ceiling sky Gods then pours their breath inside my empty soul, drowning all insinuated lies Butterfly piano keys fluttering their enchanted melodies The notes dripping pearls of discarded lullabies into my hidden pleas Lost dreams entangled in my seashell hair As I sit cradling broken memories in my emerald iris, the ones I’ve forgotten to share Dead skin peeling from my fingertips as I turn a dusty page in my notebook Loose frays of secrets coming apart, falling away in my Underland outlook I remember the day I recreated my being, as I drew Self into a mermaid rose Piercing my revolving face with a jagged pen, **** fairytales bleeding from my lips, a new world I chose My dress of ivory seaweed has caught onto a sharp end I sink into the onyx murky depths of my rhinestone lotus pond, wishing for a friend Discarded Bombarded Licking death, seeing the dead My attire drifts in the sulphide air, swirling with the essence of dread I now leave my surreal sanctuary As rhinestones melt, the pond drains, the lotus folds its metal origami I’m back from the world I created Back to reality where a sententious poet is constantly hated Back to a butterfly wallpapered bedroom where hallucination spend Yea I’m back, but not for long, not until inspiration comes and I swallow my pen And into my notebook realm I will be back in my own world again… ~
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30
Daddy brought a toy car, toy car , toy car, Red and blue, red and blue, red and blue, It has four wheels, four wheels, four wheels, Which go round and round round and round,round and round, You wound it with a key and it goes vroom, vroom, vroom, Up and down, up and down, up and down Right and left, right and left, right and left, Daddy brought a toy car, a toy car, a toy car, I love him a million times,a million times,a million times. 20/3/2019.
0
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 6:03 AM UTC
Toy Car
Womp, vroom. My lights fill this room, fights trips mind is a doom, you sink right in your chair, cant blink. hard not to stare........... quick flash bright like a flare, Lsd be scared of a dare., or lost aroma, Filled with my happiness~ peace with out the sappyness ( 0 _ 0 ) * * Love Jesse Mckush
0
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 10:00 PM UTC
Light shows and ***** dubstep
running running sirens sirens runningrunning jumping fences running running back alley dip dive hide vroom vroom sirens sirens hold my breathe running running home
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Nov 16, 2010
Nov 16, 2010 at 8:07 AM UTC
Running
The yuppies are by the   Cotto Café, asking those not to call them hipsters.   An auburn feminist drinks Mexican blend, black, while   reading Margaret Atwood. I gave up smoking, I say,   about a month ago. No one really listens, which   I sometimes find comforting. After I walk my isolation off,   I stumble into a Taco Bell; one of those hybrids: this time   KFC. The cashier is curly in the way that broken legs are curly.   Her eyes are green but I dare not objectify her, I hope I don't   say out loud, because I fear nothing more than being   patronizing. Construction loudly stutters   and cars squeak and shush. On this griddle of a sidewalk,   I feel alone. Vehicles vroom while I stand silent, a monument   to my generation.
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Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 9:56 PM UTC
Taco Bell/KFC Objects
tar smar dar car vroom vroom hit a broom rip in peice lightning mcqueen
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Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 7:25 PM UTC
tar
Gloom! Gloom! Gloom! I can't see the Room for the Gloom Is there anything else in this Room...    but Gloom ? How can I bloom with all this Gloom    in the Room ? How can I find my Vroom Vroom ? I start a poem "Too soon! Too soon!" And then it stops And then there's Gloom Fetch me a Broom that I might sweep    away all this Gloom If only there was something else in the    Room... if only. Doom! Doom! Doom! How did you get in the Room ? Who let the Doom in ? The Doom is in the Room... Again!!! Doom! Leave the Gloom alone Doom!! Put the Gloom down Doom!!! I'm warning you now! Shall I fume, shall I fume ? Locked in here with the Gloom and    Doom No! I shan't fume They'd only say he's too far goon    (ouch!) What I need is a boom, a big big    Boom! A Big Bang a boom boom Boom! A Boom BOOM enough to fill the    whole Room With that kind of BOOM! I could take off to the Moon Then I'd sing a different tune There'd be no more Gloom and Doom. But then, where would they go, what    would they do Poor old Gloom and Little Doomy They'd be out there in the cold with    nowhere to go Lost without any Roomy They'd be looking in the window at me    all sad and teary My poor Old Gloom and my poor Little    Doomy. No! I love my Old Gloom and, I love    my Little Doomy I know what I'll do I'll put the Boom in my Room with my    Gloom and my Doom And then we'll all have ourselves a    HUGE party A Big Blooming Booming Gloomy     Doomy A Big Bang a Bang a Boom Boom    Boomy Doomy We'll all have a Ball in no time at all Down at the Old Gloom and Doomy.
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Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 5:15 PM UTC
The Old Gloom and Doomy
Gloom! Gloom! Gloom! I can't see the Room for the Gloom Is there anything else in this Room...    but Gloom ? How can I bloom with all this Gloom    in the Room ? How can I find my Vroom Vroom ? I start a poem "Too soon! Too soon!" And then it stops And then there's Gloom Fetch me a Broom that I might sweep    away all this Gloom If only there was something else in the    Room... if only. Doom! Doom! Doom! How did you get in the Room ? Who let the Doom in ? The Doom is in the Room... Again!!! Doom! Leave the Gloom alone Doom!! Put the Gloom down Doom!!! I'm warning you now! Shall I fume, shall I fume ? Locked in here with the Gloom and    Doom No! I shan't fume They'd only say he's too far goon    (ouch!) What I need is a boom, a big big    Boom! A Big Bang a boom boom Boom! A Boom BOOM enough to fill the    whole Room With that kind of BOOM! I could take off to the Moon Then I'd sing a different tune There'd be no more Gloom and Doom. But then, where would they go, what    would they do Poor old Gloom and Little Doomy They'd be out there in the cold with    nowhere to go Lost without any Roomy They'd be looking in the window at me    all sad and teary My poor Old Gloom and my poor Little    Doomy. No! I love my Old Gloom and, I love    my Little Doomy I know what I'll do I'll put the Boom in my Room with my    Gloom and my Doom And then we'll all have ourselves a    HUGE party A Big Blooming Booming Gloomy     Doomy A Big Bang a Bang a Boom Boom    Boomy Doomy We'll all have a Ball in no time at all Down at the Old Gloom and Doomy.
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59
Cadilac cars & black. fast. yards pass yellow dotted lines smack tire speed. Curves. taste the sunset sweat the sunless years the graffiti shift. Shock. boom. 1/4/10 the vroom. the legend to all 10 boys who will ever know my name remember the night the tight dress of pch curves black lacquered love wet fast wicked unwanted. black lacquered love asphalt crumbles to sea mesmerized & deep This night belongs 2 me. This night belongs 2 me
0
Jan 5, 2010
Jan 5, 2010 at 7:11 AM UTC
..........................................................Cadillac Corpse
my motor isn't running too good these days there is something not quite right with my spark plugs they don't seem to fire as they once did there is a definite sluggishness in the motor head reaching top gear is a thing of the past   vroom vroom vroom vroom vroom vroom where has my engine power gone to vroom vroom vroom vroom vroom vroom how I'd like to have a new motor installed a Lamborghini engine would give me some velocity and vim but I'm saddled with an old 4 cylinder Hillman
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Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 7:32 PM UTC
My Motor
I've waited 16 long years And the day is approaching, The day I'll be allowed on the road When my dreams will come true and I'll drive on my own Well not on my own, With a parent at first But I'll take what I get  And I'll try not to burst I'll make it through the trial period  Of the dos and the donts I'll sweep the floors with my tires Make them all eat my dust Because I've been waiting since childhood For this moment of freedom Of integrity and responsibility And i only have to wait a short while Until I abandon my driving rug once and for all Put down the hot wheels and grip the steering wheel Put a foot on the gas And I'm really doing it all by myself, I'm driving at last.
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Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 11:25 PM UTC
Vroom Vroom
Shifting shifting Into gear I'm driving without fear Vroom vroom So far I go Where I do not know Chit chat chit chat They all speak Without them I am weak Swirling swirling My Brain is fried I let out and cry Nic NAC nic NAC Give myself  a slap I need to take a nap Plic plac ship lac I need a whicky snack For I am not a bat I'm losing my mind It bellows obscenities Can I still follow the rhyme I lost track of time I have no dime ? Save me save me sir mime It makes no sense Too much suspense My body is too tense I want it to stop    Please God Let it stop I'm tired It's screaming Tens of voices New ideas So many choices I forget them Before I start them Then I'm off exchanging myself For a new shelf I'm talking I'm dancing I'm cleaning I'm ScrEAMING   It's creamy~ Words words They don't add up Help me help me god above Help me help me Ones I love I'm losing my **** I'm losing all of it Am I bipolar Or just ******* nuts I cannot contain my lusts I want it all I want a nap I want to fall And run a lap La la la la lee do da da I sing a little song La la la le do da da I cry a little long La la la le do da da I scream hahahAHAHAHA I am not an Artist~ I am not a talent I am nothing much But leftover lunch Molding and burning In the evening sun My end has begun I am in need of savior No chance with my flavor Throw me away Let me sleep I am a jumbled up mess Trying to count too many sheep Peep peep little one I am insane I took your brain And set it on a plane It'll never return The same You are to blame Who are you Who am I ? Maybe I'll know When I die
0
Mar 2, 2022
Mar 2, 2022 at 1:04 AM UTC
Bipolar or not
Shifting shifting Into gear I'm driving without fear Vroom vroom So far I go Where I do not know Chit chat chit chat They all speak Without them I am weak Swirling swirling My Brain is fried I let out and cry Nic NAC nic NAC Give myself  a slap I need to take a nap Plic plac ship lac I need a whicky snack For I am not a bat I'm losing my mind It bellows obscenities Can I still follow the rhyme I lost track of time I have no dime ? Save me save me sir mime It makes no sense Too much suspense My body is too tense I want it to stop    Please God Let it stop I'm tired It's screaming Tens of voices New ideas So many choices I forget them Before I start them Then I'm off exchanging myself For a new shelf I'm talking I'm dancing I'm cleaning I'm ScrEAMING   It's creamy~ Words words They don't add up Help me help me god above Help me help me Ones I love I'm losing my **** I'm losing all of it Am I bipolar Or just ******* nuts I cannot contain my lusts I want it all I want a nap I want to fall And run a lap La la la la lee do da da I sing a little song La la la le do da da I cry a little long La la la le do da da I scream hahahAHAHAHA I am not an Artist~ I am not a talent I am nothing much But leftover lunch Molding and burning In the evening sun My end has begun I am in need of savior No chance with my flavor Throw me away Let me sleep I am a jumbled up mess Trying to count too many sheep Peep peep little one I am insane I took your brain And set it on a plane It'll never return The same You are to blame Who are you Who am I ? Maybe I'll know When I die
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90
The 25th of April was just gone I had no time to prepare My beautiful kids done wrong I had to just watch and stare The mother decided it was best So they took the bus The night before was a sleepless rest Then everything rushed Now I stay in this dark room Holding their toys His favorite was his vroom vroom Because it made the most noise The livingroom hasn't been touched I keep the door closed This feeling is more than enough Cause my heart has froze They were more than just two kids They gave me light My niece and nephew outdid Everything in sight Rose could barely make words Cyler was a chatter Together they were beautiful birds And the world didn't matter I taught them beautiful things Like beatboxing a sound I wanna handle what life brings Even if they aren't around I don't know how to stop my cry Because I miss my loves I wish I could've got a better goodbye *Maybe one last hug...*
0
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 10:20 AM UTC
My light through dark
Slobbering slime rolls off its mouth creepy crawlies are marching south evil eyes and jiggly jowls, sinister laughs and winning howls a flash of teeth from underneath, a throaty growl you sit, try not to yowl, the bed will hide its enormous bulk, these evil things will never sulk. A shattering cry pierces the night, now it’s time to run in fright. You run and run and run and run trying to escape to a midnight sun you search for warmth, you search for heat you can hear the pitter patter of shuffling feet down the hall you scamper and dash running away from the smell of ash. You open the doors to your parents room, hoping to escape the metallic vroom, you dash and scurry up on to their bed, and snuggle between them, your feet by their head. They wake and ask “what’s wrong, dear?” You answer with a tale drench in fear. But Dada and Papa only smile at you. They say, “follow us”, and you do. They take you back, and turn the light on, And show you the monsters, but now they are gone. In their place sit ordinary things that your imagination makes, And you realize that the monsters are fakes.
0
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 5:28 PM UTC
The Monsters Under My Bed
hey - do you ha, ha? I know many of you fall in love and make love and do pa pa and ma ma - but hey, do you ha, ha? and there’s that crazy woman who thinks she’s a Lady and she goes ga, ga; and some men in black who go nuts and go rat-a-tat but dump them, forget them and think about you - well, just how often do you ha, ha and *he, he, ha, ha, a ** ** ** and a ha, ha, ha and la, la, di, di, da, da and *tra la la la and ha, ha, ha, ha, he he he hoo hoo ha ha ha?* you have some animals go moo moo some go baa baa and some busy with zzzz…zzzz…zzzz… some creatures might make sa sa sa or ssss…ssss...ssss…. and you yourself may go la, la, or tchk! tchk! tchk! or you might go vroom! vroom! vroom! but do you - honestly, do you ha, ha? well, just how often do you ha, ha and he, he, ha, ha, a ** ** ** and a ha, ha, ha* and la, la, di, di, da, da and *tra la la la and ha, ha, ha, ha, he he he hoo hoo ha ha ha?* so - do you ha, ha?
0
Oct 18, 2010
Oct 18, 2010 at 10:28 PM UTC
do you ha, ha?
Tracy Batman Give me one reason, and I’ll turn back around, almost past The Point of No Return, and see no point in turning back now, like Tracy Chapman or Bruce Wayne Batman, or Tracy Morgan or Morgan The Captain, or better yet a Spacey Captain or a spacey Batman, just not a Kevin Spacey because we all know what happened, oh no no fake strangers only straight facts fam, you see I see the whole thing through I’m not a flash in the pan scam, I’m beginning till end from lights camera action to it’s a wrap man, gone till November, leaving on a jet plane to Denver, more Tracy Chapman than Tracy Morgan, more Jon Wayne than Jon Denver, more Honcho than Jon Doe, more Pronto than Macho, more Brando than Tonto, full throttle no point in turning back now, wow, only time I feel alive is when I almost die, we do like vroom vroom we do we don’t try, no need to try to live that life when you really live that life, why sail the high seas when you can reach Heaven and fly, living The Life of Lives, living the Dream of Dreams, and you’re looking at me, like “What do you mean?”, I mean, for real, for really real, how do you really feel? It’s 2018, and this feels like a Sci-Fi flic, one where we’re an Army of One, about to deploy and I feel sick, see every Moon has it’s dark side, every man has something to hide, like Nazis with a secret base on the moon, in a film from 2012 set in 2018 entitled Iron Sky, but instead of Pink Floyd everything’s Purple Noise, this is the year after the Artist Formally Named Prince finally died, and cryptos were raised from the dead like a horror story, Tales From The Crypto or better yet Tales From The Darkside, saw a drawing at an art exhibit in Phoenix called Sad Pony, it was sad because it was a unicorn without a horn so the spark had died, and now he appeared alive, even though when you look close you see the spark has disappeared from his eyes, and he knows he has to escape before this city gets the only thing he has left, which is the Soul he holds dear as he marches through the pain and the fears, and he’s ready to go already but doesn’t want to leave you behind, so before he goes he turns on his toes and asks you one thing just to be clear, “Are you ready to get out of here?” Give me one reason, and I’ll turn back around, almost past The Point of No Return, and see no point in turning back now, like Tracy Chapman or Bruce Wayne Batman, gone till November leaving on a jet plane to Denver, more Tracy Chapman than Tracy Morgan, more Jon Wayne than Jon Denver, more Honcho than Jon Doe, more Pronto than Macho, more Brando than Tonto, full throttle no point in turning back now… ∆ LaLux ∆ 2/5/18
0
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 11:48 PM UTC
∆ Tracy Batman ∆
Tracy Batman Give me one reason, and I’ll turn back around, almost past The Point of No Return, and see no point in turning back now, like Tracy Chapman or Bruce Wayne Batman, or Tracy Morgan or Morgan The Captain, or better yet a Spacey Captain or a spacey Batman, just not a Kevin Spacey because we all know what happened, oh no no fake strangers only straight facts fam, you see I see the whole thing through I’m not a flash in the pan scam, I’m beginning till end from lights camera action to it’s a wrap man, gone till November, leaving on a jet plane to Denver, more Tracy Chapman than Tracy Morgan, more Jon Wayne than Jon Denver, more Honcho than Jon Doe, more Pronto than Macho, more Brando than Tonto, full throttle no point in turning back now, wow, only time I feel alive is when I almost die, we do like vroom vroom we do we don’t try, no need to try to live that life when you really live that life, why sail the high seas when you can reach Heaven and fly, living The Life of Lives, living the Dream of Dreams, and you’re looking at me, like “What do you mean?”, I mean, for real, for really real, how do you really feel? It’s 2018, and this feels like a Sci-Fi flic, one where we’re an Army of One, about to deploy and I feel sick, see every Moon has it’s dark side, every man has something to hide, like Nazis with a secret base on the moon, in a film from 2012 set in 2018 entitled Iron Sky, but instead of Pink Floyd everything’s Purple Noise, this is the year after the Artist Formally Named Prince finally died, and cryptos were raised from the dead like a horror story, Tales From The Crypto or better yet Tales From The Darkside, saw a drawing at an art exhibit in Phoenix called Sad Pony, it was sad because it was a unicorn without a horn so the spark had died, and now he appeared alive, even though when you look close you see the spark has disappeared from his eyes, and he knows he has to escape before this city gets the only thing he has left, which is the Soul he holds dear as he marches through the pain and the fears, and he’s ready to go already but doesn’t want to leave you behind, so before he goes he turns on his toes and asks you one thing just to be clear, “Are you ready to get out of here?” Give me one reason, and I’ll turn back around, almost past The Point of No Return, and see no point in turning back now, like Tracy Chapman or Bruce Wayne Batman, gone till November leaving on a jet plane to Denver, more Tracy Chapman than Tracy Morgan, more Jon Wayne than Jon Denver, more Honcho than Jon Doe, more Pronto than Macho, more Brando than Tonto, full throttle no point in turning back now… ∆ LaLux ∆ 2/5/18
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I am from the hot ocean breeze and crystal clear waters From the baseball fields where the dug-outs are covered in original flavored sunflower seeds From the "lefty's got game!" and the "Lefty, get it!" As I step up to home plate I am from the young girl who runs through the coffee fields in her sky blue dress in the embrace of freedom I am from the delicately blooming red Rose in a field of Tulips From the hidden secret garden that is my heart I am from the smile that shines as bright as the sun From the vroom-vroom of the motor to the red motorcycle riding up the dirt road I am from frustration of a currupted past fading away in a whirl of darkness I am from the young girl horse back riding on the beach the ball of fire up in the sky setting the scenery as she makes her way down the beach I am from the fairy tales of a young girl all grown yet still refusing to relinquish a dream meant to be lived
0
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 7:21 PM UTC
Where I'm From
The lanes were strewn with mud and spattered in fury, a flurry of blood. Home he could not reach, in his hurricane Land Rover he was lost; lost in the bitten blue of a windshield blown with shrieking and sinew. Only his lover laid a hand on his arm, softening the steering, breathing out calm. Sighing she spoke, voiced a lie of the night; to which he hissed and laughed and callously cried. Suddenly shouts shot through the gloom, the shaky seats, the engine vroom; flashed out in streets slithered with rain, she saw the point, the place again and touched the cracks that marred his face, and felt the heat of his disgrace. Sirens melting reality. Wait, wait, wait for me.
0
Dec 20, 2011
Dec 20, 2011 at 11:15 AM UTC
Car Crash
Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound of water echoing around the empty house. Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of the door blowing to and fro. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. The sound of mice scurrying across the wooden boards. Smash. Smash. Smash. The sound of a window being broken to pieces. Bang. Bang. Bang. The sound of a girl struggling with her victim. Clang. Clang. Clang. The sound of knives clattering together. Boom. Boom. Boom. The sound of the girls heart banging against her chest. Splat. Splat. Splat. The sound of blood hitting everything. Silence…. Then…. Tick. Tick. Tick. The sound of the body’s watch striking midnight. Thud. Thud. Thud. The sound of desperation to escape. Vroom. Vroom. Vroom. The sound of a car zoom off. Squirm. Squirm. Squirm. The sound of maggots attacking the corpse. Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound of the house yet again deserted…. For now.
0
Jun 21, 2010
Jun 21, 2010 at 2:36 PM UTC
This House
Living healthy in our world Refers to just the morning jog A dietitians prescribed diet And a gym, keeping things tight Matured cities that are tainted are praised What for? Healthily breathing the dust sprayed? Or for, Beautiful clouds Dark and Black Melodious loud horns Forth and back Or for, Vehicles on road Vroom and Zoom! Ignorantly leaking, All kinds of smoky fumes Just as the day starts Our healthy living falls apart. Then welcoming the gloomy nights Swaying at clubs, dimmed lights Cigarettes and drinks, late night bars Obnoxiously healthy we are. Perhaps the slow poison too **** slow If only consequences were an instant blow All of us would not put at stake Our lives for the choices we make!
0
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 12:16 AM UTC
Obnoxiously Healthy