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4am On the drunken floor of my Wingmans apartment I place my red solo tankard down to instigate a quest.
"ROADKILL!"
That's what we call my wingman.
"Roadkill! Lets go on an adventure to king richards faire tomorrow!"
"Sure! When do we leave?"
"Don't worry, I'll wake you up."

See. When your best friend says they need you,
you don't just call them.
You drive.
Tonight,
on the anniversary of Roadkills worst tragedies,
we are getting drunk.
In the morning,
We're going to prove that life is worth living.

7:30am our alarms go off.
"Uhhhg."
"Curse you phone."
Hands slap towards the noise,
Spilling last nights wounded soldiers.

"Roadkill your shirts inside out."
"Thanks man."
Actually, while you have it off.

Black doesn't go with brown.
Pick a whole different shirt."
"It's fine."
"*******. There's a blue shirt right here."

Belting sailor shantees
Roadkill and I adventure three hours in
My four wheeled ground Zepplin.

"A curse to you lads,
a curse on your head,
Drinking pint after pint
until I am dead
I just keep drinking
and I don't know why,
But tonight is the night
that I drink 'til I die!"

Upon arriving at the faire we spot an ocean of goregeous maidens.
The ticket booth doth not take credit cards, however.
So we needed to speak to the gatekeeper.
"Excuse me, where's the atm?" I Ask.
"it's right over there, Handsome.
I'll need your id's first, though.
Don't worry, I don't bite
... hard."

Roadkills eyes grow the size of stormwind.
"I need to bring you everywhere man.
You make everyone love us."

we return with cash in hand
The gatekeeper pulls our ID's from her corset
looks them over before handing them back.
"How are you boys younger than me?"
"It's the beard. "
I wink.
"Keep a secret?"

Swords on hips
songs in chest.
Mead was flowing
Boots were clomping

Roadkill paused to look around
Standing like a pleased statue.

I bounced excitedlly around like a child.
ROADKILL
LOOK AT ALL OF THESE GOREGEOUS OUTFITS ON THESE BEAUTIFUL WOMAN!
"Hey!"
handsome men, too.
"Thank you"
It's like we teleported to Flurb heaven!
Look!
a garb shop!
Oh my god
A boot store!
They have a whole store
for leather larpy boots!
There is a tail shop!
I could buy and wear a fuzzy furry tail!
This is amazing!
There is a giant duck
Being pushed back and forth by two huge jacked dudes.

"I need to hug everyone!"
I am in love with everything!"
"Can i please hug you?"

"I swear to god, Nick if you touch me."

We try the knife throwing challenge.
The crossbow challenge.
The dart throwing challenge.
We **** at all of it but we have a blast.

We walk into a leather shop.
A small redheaded girl dances around us. She puts fur around our necks
Her hands trace our chests as she ties them up
You boys look like the type to rock these.
She drags us by the belts to a mirror.
Look at how handsome you both are.

"Roadkill" I whisper.
He is already lost in her eyes.
I place a hand below his chin and close his mouth.
They talk about where they're from.
Their families.
What they do for fun.
"Oh you do larp? We do dagohir it's like full contact grappley shield kicking larp"

A group of customers walk in and she leaves to tend to them.
A brunette helps take off roadkills stole.
"How much are these anyway?"
Roadkill asks the brunette.
"$600" she answers.
"I feel ashamed for even trying it on"
Says roadkill slipping off the precious treasure.
"Goodbye ladies! have fun today!"
I say, pulling roadkill by the arm.
"Oh... okay then... bye."

"They seemed sad we left.
What was that about?" Asked roadkill.
"Well do you want the blunt educated version or the ignorant positive version?"

"Ignorant of coarse."
Then they're dissapointed because they were interested in us.
"Out of curiousity, what's the blunt educated version?"
"They're upset We didn't fall for their act and buy their expensive wares."
"Whelp... there goes my self confidence. Ignorance really is bliss"
"Yes it is roadkill. Yes it is."

We Travel back home.
Again, singing sailor shantees.

"A curse to you lads,
a curse on your head,
Drinking pint after pint
until I am dead
I just keep drinking
and I don't know why,
But tonight is the night
that I drink 'til I die!"

Park the four wheeled ground zeppelin in front of the Apartment.
Clonk our boots up the stairs
Grab angry orchards out of the fridge
Slunk into the beaten brown couch
raise my bottle into the air
"To living one more day exactly the way we want too, Roadkill."
Roadkill raises his bottle.
clinks it against mine.
"To living."
"I love you, Roadkill. You're the best." -Geek
Addie May 2015
I like to be alone
when i’m alone I think a lot about you
and it hurts

It’s an emptiness feeling
it starts in my stomach then leads to my feet
they become cold

strangers we are
but we have known each other for longer then we have even known ourselves
your silhouette will be with me always
for times when i'm alone
and I regret not speaking up
I regret not making myself known
my feet are cold

do you feel empty too?
do you think about me when you’re alone?
do you miss the way you’ve never felt?

we will meet again
and this time
i’ll speak up
because we will always have led zepplin
and quiet spaces
tight silk ******* with the lilac bra to match,
cream coloured knee high socks.
a collection of classic rock on vinyl and a compliments jar covered in news articles.

too many celebrity perfumes, but a versace collection that makes her think of the beach;
peach smelling deoderant.

chapter books on the floor accompanied by hair ribbons of baby blue and cotton candy pink,
****** by Vladimir Nabokov laying near the juvinile pale legs of beautiful sixteen,
as she paints each toe nail red, pink, white.

almost naked body, remember her tight, fresh lace set
hair perfectly auburn, lips perfectly light coral
mouth slightly open
Led Zepplin playing.
hairspray and rose powder,
unlit vanilla candles and twilight scented creams
she smells faintly of Modern by Banana Repulic and her daddy's cigarettes.

silently waving, a flag of patriotism
the beautiful, elegant sixteen.

-part 1

conceptcollection
Wanderer Jun 2014
I am sorry*

We shared those words today
I no longer worry about the shade of our hands
Come Dawn
Love still connects us
Bridge building is slow
Worth while to the persistent
To the patient
Compromise
We are not compatable through
Religion. Philosophy. The Soul.
However, for us, music still stands
Classic rock and 70's disco fever
High pitched BeeGee's
Crooning Zepplin while deer watching
That connection alone binds us
Much less the love of mountains
Cold lungs on frosty mornings
Hunting for dinner with bow, with arrow
I have missed you
Wasted time stretched between us
No longer
Happy Father's Day
Took my own advice.
mamta madhavan Jan 2021
1.

Swirls of golden smoke rose slowly from my blazing coffee ***. The dusty car at a distance slithered and crawled up the winding road. Sitting in the shack I watched the sand snaking its way up, keeping pace with the car and pelting it with sand particles as if it held a grudge against the driver. I had planned to go dune bashing but for the ominous tone of the desert.

2.

The next day morning remnants of what the desert spat out, the sand particles consume me. I am cloaked with gloves of voluminous dust. I take another sip of coffee. The pungent aroma of the milieu and coffee leaves me breathless. The greens are choked and there is sand art on pavements outside.

3.

I try to remove the sand on my hair as I wipe the aurulent sheen on the window pane.  A bunch of men wipes the dust from the tables and chairs in the opposite shack. An old dusty car crawls to a halt and parks, blaring the music of Led Zepplin.
JL Nov 2011
To Em
I’ve been tryin to send you letters for the longest time now
But they’ve got me movin  
Bed to bed
Hospital to hospital
Everything is dirt here
They say Im gonna lose both my legs, Em
Truth is I’m scared
I’m far away from home
In this ****** jungle
And I’m just trying to survive
I don’t wanna die Em
I wanna see you so bad. I Know
This is all a dream and in a minute Ill wake up
And you’ll be layin there next to me warm
Your hair all soft on my face
I can smell your perfume

Teardrops

Tell me Em that your waitin for me
That I ain’t comin home alive
For you
And you ain’t there
Em, your my life
Your my angel
Savin me from all of this
I lay here and listen to full grown men cry and beg for death
Men screamin for their mommas

Teardrops

I lay here quiet with my pillow over my head just dreamin about you
Bout us
In my bedroom wakin up in the morning cause the dog wont shutup and has to ***
And I can just get up and let him out
I just wanna walk on the grass in the front yard
Inside your wearin my Led Zepplin  shirt just smiling at me standin out there like a fool
I just wanna hear the dogs bark down the street again
I just wanna see my room
**** in my own toilet
Sleep in my own bed
Brush my teeth in my own sink
And for ******* christ’s sake take a shower

I think about you all the time Em
And if I die
I promise no matter how bad it hurts
Ill be thinkin bout you
Takin me to heaven
Kissin me on my shoulder.  Huggin me on my neck
S D S Nov 2013
Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up
And not be us anymore?
Just sit and drink some coffee
And talk about the war
Perfectly mundane folks
Without a care beyond the debt
No need to be profane folks
Concerned with only death

Wouldn't it be nice if we could grow up
And be us in some other way?
Just rock out to some Zepplin
And smoke our cares away
Perfectly mundane folks
No worries but the rent
No need to be ashamed folks
Beaten, broken, all regret
Thinking of the Beach Boys song "Wouldn't it be nice" while in a bad mood.
LeRoy Williams Jun 2019
Baddie brains blown out hick-up pick up picky pick up lines hirried stubbling drained from the gum. Yes tis gum from the stuomuch that you swallowed for month because I just loved the way you ***** ***. I'm sick.
I puked.
I puked?
I started runnning the walts of Conan the quenched dominator beefing with minny mouse for spanking mickey. He sipps mickeys just so you know I'm holy dust, sike. I wish I washed my mouth month before I ate the groomed flappy fingered fizzathered lips of Haley Jade. I wish I had a ******. ****. Nut after nut and after this nut  another nut and a nut a then the knux cause she got the **** crumbling runs rinse me in Faygo cause these Jugglalos have hair I love to get the stow in jars from a far, because I farted. Beanie I ******* farting who started this ******* fricken flame flare Jack Keoroac couldn't spit enough spirts to-at-alley trickling pink pavement funds that freed Zepplin.
Paul Hardwick Apr 2017
Old age is
when the balloon
you tugged on as the kid
was a Led Zepplin
and when the sabbath came around
you didn't
know who you're mom was or is
and Floyd did not cook
just made some really great sounds
t-rex was not a dinosaur
but danced around in furs
and the status quo
was just three cords.
P. P. S.   Remember this  Love P@ul.  ***.
think I could make more of this
if requested by you all.
Thank you P@ul.
There's still more to come
wallow in the macrame to places, faces &
years ago
there's a pull or a tug at the heart to light the flame
sheer desire why does on equate logic for a tower of power
the serendipitous way you call the shots many years ago
aside from the impulse of the hidden heart,
mix words through a slight of hand
features, creatures & moving pictures

breath deep
stand still & repeat
faces, spaces & traces,
we will walk the miracle mile
through dolphin fin a newer way to begin
look deep within my faithful friend
there's a portal the meets the sun have a bit of fun
the iglow and the ***
life is but a mystery
come and sit next to me
falling apart at the seams

the ambiance as we look in the finest art of sophistication
may need a break on a long awaited vacation
equation
the tongue is forever sparkling like oil
we all must go before the toss
I'm at a loss
a pull of the heart to light the eternal spark to where we need to go
bust up the beat to promote its tempo
that was sold out years ago
straddling the fences

like Led Zepplin we are almost second guessing,
the beat necks and sound effects through the noose
like a Motley Crue what are we to do
why do we worry always in a hurry trying to change the story why should i worry
through faint of heart want a brand new start
I just threw up in my mouth so I blame, ***** & pout
what is this life all about ?
Words can lift up and bring down
Don't ever wear your head down in a frown
sugar is sweet so sweet like honey
I want to be the man who brings home the money

Signs to the left of me jokers to the right
some say I'm living in my land of make believe but who are they
careesed by the kiss of a hero's mist
the impulse of the love dazzled from heaven above
wipe away my smile infuse for laught quit the chatter get another batter
there's another Cherrios in places you ought to go but that was years ago
inflate the common ego
shattered, misguided & trampled
like Gorky Park I'm lightning a brand new part of my tender heart
guide to the never world or have you ever heard
it gets deeper as a stranger giving cadence to adventure

why should we worry the earth is our friend we can cling on a distant song
take everything out of you for a distant rescue I'm still on que
fast as lighting I'm always smiling try not hiding away from my problems
trapped within a faithful friend in which to begin all over again
look to the horizon over the other side of the mountain as a magic fountain
give creed to the hallow deed look into the abyss for your heavenly wish with a kiss
locked beneath the earth do swell in a thought out living hell
shadows block the mere vortex to a smile still to know all the great while
like Michael Jackson it's all black & white
Never relent to ever give up on the fight
you can dream big with the pen with whom you can depend
life is what you make it so stop trying to fake it make no mistake with
there's still more to come
Charles Sturies Oct 2018
Christina Aguilera on Jimmy Fallon-
Dressed in all black outfit along with her first while **** female
Dancers, making her something colorfully scenic
And well with the tune having an interesting bent.
Then after that some of the broads whose posters are on my wall
Looked like they were wearing black
In some places
Soon I was thinking I was being plotted
On me by them with the black being a death anger omen-
Plotted against for being a wet blanket about Led-
Zepplin music and they wanted to shoot me-
One of them
I explained myself then
And we all wanted gracefully into the night.
a blast of whiskey the summon of the king to appear
a real encounter with Elvis & Zepplin,
from the early 70's sparks a calm to remedy
three at the bar forced to civality..,
under thick chains received
band was on the run kissing cousins all so much fun
these are the years sparked by tears,
throuw a quater in the fountain
some rich peeople choose to through the ashes in a fountain
base they are rich you see falling...calling out the remedy,
sit back ******* with a higher degree
your name is encrusted as distant timber under the leaves
Terror awaits the slogan a notion to rock & roll
splishing and splashing with no place to go,
bust up the beat to promote its tempo

Music across the pond,
a hint to vainly belong
having trouble to the new walk swing
then it rolls its nature from with again
I can dig the premonition from the falling rain,
Stairway To Heaven
not a one stop shopping event to a routine store stop seven eleven
paint a picture from beyond,
leaves None other then Motorhead, "Ace Of Space" !
brother pray for me brother connect to the falling leaves
transport a super couper honest Alice Vinny Cooper
cast a Flamingo
traverse to haunt the cold chilled places to go
through a river to impress a polished kit cement

Such an encounter in 1969 Jimmy Hendrix and his Experience
in the bushes forced on *** sorry that we met
not a noble jib to eternailze,
playing Star Spangle Banner
In the heavens beyond the moon has landed...

Mercedes Benz a good look always depends
the horse before the cart found a tisk & tasket
Safe behind a squeeky wheel
Expression
Innovatiion
In conjunction to fly
with words crossing by
jeffrey conyers Sep 2018
On this beautiful day, I'm singing out a tune.
Listening to the Beatles song Hey Jude.
Just driving my car further down the road listening to Pink Floyd.

While my lady of choice craves for some Rod Stewart.
Only to change her mind later to hear the Rolling Stones.
Highly upset that she turned the dial off Led Zepplin.

Still her and I on this musical journey.
As I state to her that Eric Clayton was part of the Yardbirds.
As she tries to sing songs by the group Cream.

She knows nothing by the Hollies or heard of Dave Clark Five.

Still, I am on this musical journey.
Telling her about Dusty Springfield and Petula Clark two ladies that contributed to the success of the British invasion.

And then, yes then there's the man.
A roaring stylist of his own and that will be Tom Jones.
clouds & chipmunks
underneath it all we are after the same thing
poetry..the stuff deep inside of me
burning in anguish frozen ***
closet breath with mothball scent
here I hide between the frozen chew
look at my elbow parked outside my window
order form...
look at the magazine soft **** inside
the billows be your guide
soft hand to speak
stand still & repeat
Led Zepplin song remains the same
a grocery date with Stop & Shop's,"Marty"...
a token of well gestures
*** Wee Hermon jerking off in the bathroom
although widows peak summoned to the barn door swing
minutes to breath with *** on the beach
God is still in my heart through a latent guide
thoughts of underware..
come as good as it gets..
Major Jackson & Louise Gluck,
spring down with action
pillows with cashmere attire;
I sip on the magic potion
away from the casino tight token
breath in the sweet tense,
John Ashbery dead at 90
a slight riddle in the sand verticle
a double work slight of hand...
Rooster gay friend
he will be missed in another pardon kiss
people, faces & traces
There are bridges to be burned
which turn another page.
Form each circle
cast your bread upon the water,
It will return in measure and method unexpected
Yielding treasure.
There is energy to be stored
and
Experiences to be reviewed
Days of cheese and laughter
ponies
and that transient beauty that permeates the soul.
There is laughter paying homage to the memories
and the loss
which sneak up on me as I turn
to retrace
steps half remembered as my eyes
seek the bridge
now ashes
that separate me
from
my
grief.
look at...

clouds & chipmunks
underneath it all we are after the same thing
poetry..the stuff deep inside of me
burning in anguish frozen ***
closet breath with mothball scent
here I hide between the frozen chew
look at my elbow parked outside my window
order form...

look at the magazine soft **** inside
the billows be your guide
soft hand to speak
stand still & repeat
Led Zepplin song remains the same
a grocery date with Stop & Shop's,"Marty"...

a token of well gestures
*** Wee Hermon jerking off in the bathroom
although widows peak summoned to the barn door swing
minutes to breath with *** on the beach

God is still in my heart through a latent guide
thoughts of underware..
come as good as it gets..
Major Jackson & Louise Gluck,
spring down with action
pillows with cashmere attire;
I sip on the magic potion
away from the casino tight token
breath in the sweet tense,

John Ashbery dead at 90
a slight riddle in the sand verticle
a double work slight of hand...
Rooster gay friend
he will be missed in another pardon kiss
people, faces & traces
Boy you are amazing
The world's vernacular is changing
You use to say boys aren't supposed to cry
Thats for ******* and little babies
But we grew from that
We musta knew it that
It was making men go crazy.
Trying to hide behind machismo
When inside their heart is breaking.

Now I'm headed for new daisies
Hi Alberta!!! B.c changed me...
Nice to meet again. Giving thanks to those who shaped me...May I mandate.
That nobody kills and rapes me....
I gotta make it down to Washington.
Theres cholostemy bags. With Donald's name.
For
The presidential ****

Its winter moons that make me humbled
By the grace of different races of the ladies.
But the alt right thinks theres oppression from the liberals
On caulcasians.
I just said the same thing twice.
In different ways. While keeping my mind naked....

Oh one last thing. Simba you'll never fully understand it
And it's okay to be in limbo.
You look pretty as either ***
And theres no way that your a *****...
Or underhanded
Simple it's the pencil....
That will give the devil  wings
Not ******* coffee.
Nor ******* redbull.
Nor led zepplin.....
But its God that does these things
Same rhyme as the last one.just different perspectives. Lil bit diff. But same idea.. hope you caught the last line from a couple notes ago with the whole stairway to heaven led zepplin line

— The End —