Wednesday, July 31, 2013

The Root of All Good (Evil)

By Doppler Pan Am (By popular demand)
The height of the World's (The weight of the World's)
Reaganomics cripple-up (Economics trickle-down)
Money is an median to a beginning (Money is a means to an end)
People trot from it (People part from it)
Malleable expenditures reveal little (Practical expenses reveal more)
Where there is a mill, there is a sway (Where there is a will, there is a way)
The money executioner takes the pay (The money practitioner takes it away)

Experimental poetry at it's best. The right side is what I really mean to say, but the left side is more funny to put in a different way.

I hope you enjoy!

Buzzard Love

Giving is never enough
When love is floating on a buzzards back
You hope for the end to come fast, quick and burtal
Tear out an eye instead of my heart
At least not seeing will be less believing
Your words never pierced my skin until it snatched my heart
Instead of floating in the air like a humming bird
A buzzard is waiting to take me away
This gruesome thing that I thought was love
Was nothing more than a piece of road kill
Waiting to be eaten, scraped off the ground
Devoured like any other person you saw fit for a relationship
If I was nothing more than your prey
What makes any outcome change the fray
The buzzard will take its time as will the pain you caused
I hope the buzzard is hungry

I hope you enjoy!

The Future is Life

The future, a touchy subject that shows no means nor bounds.
For every leap forward, another lost soul is never found.
We could have, should have, will have never happen.
What fool has, delusion has folded its napkin.
Life is no simulation but a stimulation of what's to come.
Tough decisions, life choices, the happiness and fun.
The future can be a roller coaster with water stains everywhere.
Soiled circular moments include everything along with despair.
Will you beg like a dog, gleam like a bug eyed cat?
Will you feed the lies, tall tales, the volatile crap?
Fear not the future, only fear the presented shame.
No matter the consequences, life will end up being the same.

I hope you enjoy!

Monday, July 29, 2013

Clinton Road

Have you ever been too late
Where the cumbersome bus stop rolling around
The lights flicker and flash with enthusiasm
Drunks do the wave while flabbergasted
The red light district lights go out
Deranged fellow roaming about
Pushers need shoving, pullers need plunging
Pickpockets need their rest to be at their best
Each street is invested with hobo infested
Rats cling to each other, birds of a feather
Shops are closed unless you need clothes
The homeless shelter is overburden
A pack of wild dogs own the streets
You are stranded on Clinton Road
Route 23 could be the end of the show
If a phantom or boy creeps up on you
Have you ever been too late

There is a road in New Jersey called Clinton. This road is known to be haunted by a phantom truck and boy. This sounds like a road I will not want to be at.

I hope you enjoy!

Middle of the Road

Stand complacent, shed a tear of faithlessness
Facetious, flawless, a fair warning for the mourning
The middle of the road belongs to the thieves
Goods are recovered, never stolen
Identities pass, pass-byers folly
Follow down the alley, volley your inners, outters, lay flaccid
The fulcrum is nearly passing but cars avoid
Thievery is at a high, lice in the streets
Manhole covers lay cover for the innocence
Street lights talk back but never say anything
Hydrants hydrate the wicked, prevalent fillings
This is no some middle of the road shit
This is the road of deviance

I wrote this last night really late. I'm not sure where the inspiration came from. I was listening to Alt-J, which seem to focus a lot on their crazy lyrics. Maybe they inspired me.

I hope you enjoy!

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Gambino Bingo

Hey, mine name is Gambino
I like to gamble my bling
Yo, where is the bingo?

Hey, this taste like ass
Not a mamasita
Poor yourself a glass
Or I'm gonna beat ya
At bingo

I-26, B-31, G-shit
I can't believe I won
Where is my prize
A measly fifty-one

I need another drink
To wash down the fun
I'm gonna play again
Come one O-21

How could she win
If I already won
They checked her card
But the deed was already done

I cheated her out
Three-Fifty and won
I walked out with class
With a glass of 151
Bingo is fun

This short little rap is about a cheater. I wonder if you can really cheat a bingo? Maybe this place doesn't keep track of its winners.

I hope you enjoy!

A Grave Stone

Sores in the mouth
Ovary cancer for a decade now
A metal heel, knee and spleen
I mean, unbearable pain, right?
Young girls call me a monster
Teenage boys throw rocks at me
I can't attract the opposite sex
Nor the same since my story horrifies them
I have tried online dating
But being honest on there
Never gets me a date
Showing who you really are
Never gets me a date
Being who I really am
Never gets me a date
Plastic surgery can't fix my face
The cancer always comes back
I'm used to the pain now
However, no one else is
I can't drink, smoke, or touch diluted water
If I set one foot in quicksand
I stand like it is nothing
Never sink
I must be on this planet for a reason
I'm made of a body with poor metabolism
Low sodium intake
High blood-pressure
Each step I take is more pain
One thing I will never do
Put myself out of my misery
What am I. stupid?

Talk about an unfortunate life, but I won't let the person give up on life. If when beaten down, you must push on. If you are in pain, you need to go through each day. Make every moment the best it can. If you are having a bad day, try and make it better. Where there is a will, there is always a way, and a gravestone.

I hope you enjoy!

The Way of The Road

Further and further, the drive will stay
I may never get away
From what feeling, what corrupted dealing
An everlasting ceiling
Clouds seem further now
I never dream of stars
Only moments in time where time speeds up
I stop for no one, but myself
I run over everyone, but myself
I trust the One, but myself
Loop 288 tends to be busy
35 is the devil on tar
Do not get me started on 635
Life in a car makes me want to die
I saw a crash the other day
That makes three in a week
Which makes 20 this month
Only to leave 147 unreported this year so far
Try not to speed
The road is a hell of a place to die

I'm not sure what inspired this. This poem was intended to be about one thing, but shifted to another. I want to say this is a cops life sometimes, but could it also be a drivers thoughts too. Life is funny when you drive so much. Making trips from Wylie to Addison was tough, but I got through it.

I hope you enjoy!

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Everyday College

I am a commuter
I drive long distances to get to you
I walk around you
I stalk around you
I study around you
I enjoy the onlookers
I enjoy the sights
I enjoy seeing vehicles at every step
I nearly was ran over yesterday
I never thought I would be here
I think this is an accomplishment
I believe this is an accomplishment
I know this is an accomplishment
I go to college


Working at a college makes you think what people are thinking. I wonder if some students' think this throughout the day. I also wanted to add a the funny quote at the end. Do you know what it is from?

I hope you enjoy!


Give Riff Raff a load of crap
And he can come out of your Television system
Give Mr. Hahn a load of booty
And he can make any song so groovy
Give V. Ice a load of songs
And he can be under pressure for oh so long
Give Mike D a load of pleasure
And he can hit you with a wiffle ball bat so...
Give the Rat Pack a load of money
And they can Fly You To The Moon
Give James Dean a load of parts
And he can live as a legend in our hearts
Give Slim Jim a load of press
Macho Man is here to break a desk
Give me a load of reference
And I can give you a bitter lesson

So many references in this one. Do you know them all?

I hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Deal With It

Deal. With. It.
Deal. With. What?
It? Deal. With!
With. It. Deal!
With. Deal. It?
What. It. Deal?
Deal. What? With?
Deal! With! It!

Experimental poems can be fun, and hard to understand. When I really think about it, I deal with it! Also, see what punctuation marks do to poems?

I hope you enjoy!

Political Agenda

What is the meaning of life, but two figures destined from nonchalant bureaucracy.
One takes the life of another while the other distinguishes from the rest.
A life is brittle and carries consequences when a fallen foe forges a new power.
Build a wall, tear it down. Build an empire, tear it down. Build a political stance, tear it down.
Under one nation, the two figures create a coalition to destroy said bureaucracy.
Savage men will dance in fire. Prestigious women will mend the savages.
The new power will overtake the bureaucracy and create a resolution, a cause, a theory.
What theory will produce results and does this cause stand for a resolution or revolution?
When the two figures meet, paths cross. They come to terms for the better of their Union.
The bureaucracy has fallen. An empire is in their midst. Politics will never be the same.
What is the meaning of life, but two figures destroying a nonchalant bureaucracy.

This free verse poem was an odd one. I'm not sure where I got inspiration from. I wrote the first line last night for fun, and went from there. I don't know much about politics... I hope you enjoy!

Legal Test

My redeeming quality...
What deems a quality to re-up?
These questions make me not want to interview.
Who was the first President of the United States?
Where is the capital in Texas?
When was Texas its own country?
None of these questions make me want to stay here.
I feel like I am treated like a rat, a mongrel.
Cook, clean, scrub, rice and beans,
I appear at the scene with tattered clothes.
My jeans look good when dirty.
These hands have done things others can't imagine.
My mother and father would be proud of me;
Making a name for myself and working towards a family.
How many States made up the Union?
I hope I don't get graded to harshly on this exam.

I've heard the test for becoming a US citizen is HARD. Most people who live in the US probably can't pass it, which is sad. Also, I hate tests.

I hope you enjoy!

Monday, July 22, 2013

Surreal Pain

Hold on, the pain is nothing but surreal
In reality we must get through this speel
Deal with it will never cop a feel
And do not try and appeal your case
It happens just as the interlace looked great
A new dawn, a new fate that helps create
A new sense of urgency, another scene
Where will you go with your human being
Belonging and longing for a pedestal
Not to sit, but to stand for what's right
Quite contrite to think pain is nothing
Nothing but surreal, a quiet banging
Can this be for real

I'm not sure how I came up with this. Pretty sad if you ask me. I believe I could make it longer, but this length will do for now.

I hope you enjoy!

Bug Out

Whenever I see a bug
I bug out
Run to the bathroom
And scrub about
Bugs are the devil
They were dug out
From the depths of hell
I run out
Eight legs, six legs
Hairy legs, long legs
Hide under the rug
I'm going fry you like a scotch egg
My legs are longer
And most likely hairier
Bugs, you're about to die
I hate to have barriers
I see one behind some glass
It has to die
I see one in the shower
It has to drown
I see one on the bed
I'll flick you off
I see one on my head
I bug out

I would say this is more like a short funny song. I believe I could add more about how bugs creep people out. I'm not a fan of them, but I have no problem with them outside my home. If I see one though, they must die.

I hope you enjoy!

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Brain Trauma

This brain contusion is confusing the hell out of me
I start with a sentence...confusing the hell out of me
This contusion...the hell out of me
This brain...confusing
A sentence...hell

This experimental poem is very weird. I wasn't sure how I was going to come up with this poem. Instead, I wanted to delete words since someone had a brain contusion and wanted it to sound like they keep forgetting words.

I hope you enjoy!

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

The Final Countdown

"Does your child eat enough," yelled the absurdly large lady at the front. As much as she yells, I'm not sure how she hasn't had an brain contusion. Not from all the yelling, but from the millions of things that are thrown at her head. I saw at least ten paper balls whiz by my head; the air being cut by paper, isn't that ironic. The absurdly large lady is now yelling about my child's future in crime. Where does she come from? We live in a nice suburb and the first big corporation moved in next door: Wal-Mart.

I looked at my hand and noticed something. My hand was becoming wrapped up into a fist. Was I angry at this woman? I decided to try to take deep breaths to calm down, but what ensued next can only be described as chaos. I threw myself onto the stage and started singing "The Final Countdown." I was ready to take on this absurdly large lady who was now talking about guns in school. As I got to the guitar solo in the song, I took a swing and missed. She ducked out of the way. I tried to swing once more with a right hook, but missed. She ducked out of the way again. This lady was putting on a show for the parents. Not only with her absurdly large body and terrible preaching methods, but with her fancy feet that made her look like Mike Tyson in his prime.

I'll go have a seat now.

I'm not sure how I thought about this prose poem. Part of it could be from the little news I hear. The other could be since I'm not a fan of my old hometown since it has grown so much. I wish my hometown stayed small.

I hope you enjoy!

Acting Out

A duo, a match made in Heaven
Nothing can stop the two from ruling the world
In the beginning, both played goodie-two-shoes
One decided a boat was fitting
The other enjoyed the rain splitting
Both loved getting the damsel
Throughout their career
Each has had the good life
Making out with the hottest women
Keeping buff, a driven image
One day, the duo decided to change
They wanted to be bad boys and derange
One decided to play a billionaire, corrupted as ever
The other enjoyed driving, a straight shot endeavor
A duo, a match, once made in Heaven
Nothing can stop the two from changing the world

Who am I talking about? I noticed throughout history that a couple of actors have changed in nearly the same exact way. Both started out as the "good guys," but now the two like to play gritty parts. Leo DiCaprio and Ryan Gosling are changing.

I hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Spit On The Ground

Spit, spit, I'm gonna spit
This is something I do
I'm gonna spit
On the ground, ground, the cold hard ground
I'm gonna spit on the cold hard ground
Slip, slip, you're gonna slip
You're gonna slip on my spit that's on the ground
Fall, fall, you're gonna  to fall
Fall into my arms before you hit the ground
Make out, make out, we gonna to make out
You feel into my arms
And we are gonna to make out
Slap, slap, why did you slap me
I caught you before you hit the ground
Run, run, you can't run from me
I'm gonna catch you
And spit on the ground

This was inspired by The Lonely Island. I love this band, and wish I could rap like them. I'm halfwhite, so I'm halfway there right?

I hope you enjoy!

The Game: Work

Managing the unmanageable is unimaginably hard
The staff around here tears me apart
When I look at a coworker, I fear for the worst
My job is in their hands like a preparatory course
Hey, that's my pen, and computer chair too
They always fight and act the fool
When lunch comes around try not to panic
The ship is starting to sink like the Titanic
I cannot walk around this office without seeing
Another employee lounging, another sleeping
And do not get me started on their work ethic
They are slow as a turtle and pathetic
I have walked by one employee in particular
I believe they were studying for something extracurricular
And perpendicular to this employee was a hardcore gamer
They always die by my hands, this is no disclaimer
Bugs can be a problem throughout the office
When you find one you kill it and take the losses
The pay is not great, but we do what we like
These video games are nothing but my life

It took me until the final lines or so to figure out what this poems job would be. Finally, a video game tester came to mind. Do they act like this? Probably not. However, I can only imagine what their life could be like.

I hope you enjoy!

Monday, July 15, 2013

Shark Tornado

Have you ever walked out side; it's beautiful weather
Turning wave tides all throughout the Summer
The sun is warm and the beach is loud
Nobody on the planets needs to shroud in fear
You have seen Snakes on a Plane
Giant mutant spiders
But be careful of the sharks
In the tornado
They fly in the sky ever so high
Drop from the sky, you're about to die
They can land on top of you, eat your arm
Blood will spill all across your lawn
If you see one in a swimming pool
You should run to higher ground before they eat you
If you see one on the interstate
Stay as far as you can away so you won't be bait
"My boyfriend was eaten"
 Eff that
"My girlfriend lost a leg"
Fix that
"My son was eaten whole"
Chainsaw that
"I can blow up tornado's?"
Do that

Who knew that sharks in a tornado would be possible. Sharknado was a wonderful movie and I found out today that the director did it as a joke. I'm very happy to hear that.What next terrible movie should I watch...

I hope you enjoy!

Friday, July 12, 2013

The Band Hall

The reverb reverts to the previous room
Recollection of the music will result in failure
Where the acoustics is lost in translation
No sound at all as if a tree has fallen
If reverb was there and no one hears
Will it revert to its original state
The entire room shakes with monumental music
Reverb stays within its walls
Recollection of the music may result in failure
But the walls speak of memorable notes
Strings breaking, unclear rhythms
Band fighting, group moshing
It is clear that the room still has reverb

When you go into a concert hall or practice room, do you ever think about all the music that was played in there? The walls may remember everything, but the sound is gone. It's like a supernatural feel sometimes. I have a feeling more musicians feel this than normal people.

I hope you enjoy!

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Ip Im Ip

Zippy Zimbabweans Zip Zidways
Sippy Sims Sip Sideways
Tippy Timberlands Tip Tidewaves
Bippy Bimbos Bip By-the-ways
Lippy Limpos Lip Liars-always
Rippy Rimshots Rip Ripemaze
Pippy Pimples Pip Piedaze
Nippy Nimples Nip Nieadays
Wippy Wimps Wip Winey-babes

Experimental poetry can be fun. I bet I could do every letter of the alphabet.

I hope you enjoy!

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

TV Blogging

B is for Bill an overused name
L is for a character that gets caught
O is for the astonished looks on televisiĆ³n
G is for my homie that I named
G is for a brand new Generation
I is for the robot not named Will
N is for programing only for teens
G is for every audience

To be honest, I forgot what type of poem this could be. I think it is a list poem, but I could be wrong. I hope you get all the references. If not, I'll list them:

B - True Blood or any form of TV with the main character having the name Bill
L - Deathnote
O - Expressions on Spanish Soap Operas
G - Slang terms
G - Girls' Generation or how the newer Generations just enjoy TV so much
I - iRobot
N - The N or TeenNick
G - Rated G for General Audiences

I hope you enjoy!

Working Everyday

Memories refresh when drive to work
How am I doing the same thing every morning
I get out of bed, stare at my bed head
Put on my undershirt and socks at the same time
Dress all spiffy with a great neck tie
Do my hair like it is 1999
Eat my breakfast or forget about breakfast
Grab my lunch and run out the door
Walk down 13 steps, maybe I miss one
Step into my car with disgruntlement
Turn on the radio after starting the car
Start the car and drive to work
It takes 5 minutes, but clearly there are students
Avoid them since they are a nuisance
Park my car away from the sun
Get out of my car and power walk to work
I'm in such a hurry because we got gates
I don't work in the billing department which is great
I grab some water and take a seat
My day starts off and I'm already beat
Memories refresh after I drive to work
I work my ass off, but come off as murk in the morning

This is basically my schedule. I'm usually not murky since I do enjoy my job, but I can be straight to the point.

I hope you enjoy!

Monday, July 8, 2013

The Touch

The touch is nothing like a touch
To stay in touch with the Dutch
I clutch my crutch as I walk away
Some might say your touch
Is nothing but too much
In such a dire way taken from today
Way beyond the lands
Far beyond the sea
I see nothing more
Believe in the whore
She was nothing but a bore
A real downer and snore
Her touch was nothing like a touch
It was nothing but too much
She can be such a pain I try to refrain
From the door without frame
A dame with no name
I am going completely insane
About her touch of pain
She clutch her crutch as I walk away
Some might say your touch
Is nothing but too much
Her touch is nothing like a touch

This may sound random, but you could sing it to a Daft Punk song. It was fun writing and rhyming so much. However, when you look back at the original song, it is nonsense just like this. Could these replace the lyrics? Most likely.

I hope you enjoy!

Why Rye

My rich rye is why
Spring lasts as long as it does
Where is my whiskey

Haiku time for everyone. I had some interesting whiskey over the weekend. It was blackberry-something-or-other. It was pretty good and gone now.

I hope you enjoy!

Battle Cries

Fire in the sky
Way up high
Brighter than a double rainbow
Lies upon lies
A good way to die
Darker than a new moon
Fly like a dragon
Towards the battle cry
Blood has never looked so red
My oh my
Sighed the small fry
Tears have never flowed so violently
Shy from the battle
You will most likely die
Pry my weapon from my cold dead hands

I'm not sure what kind of poem this should be. Most likely free form of some sort. At first, I thought it was going to be about nonsense, but then turned into a battle I was seeing with my two eyes. Game of Thrones helped inspired this.

I hope you enjoy!

Friday, July 5, 2013

Red Rover Dwight

Red rover, red rover let Howard come over
He crushes opponents and acts like a drover
When big herds of sheep flock to his feet
He takes one giant leap deep into the paint
With a loud roar, he does his chore
By dunking on opponents with dazzling galore
But beware the man who starts with a plan
And makes up controversy everywhere he stands
Goodbye Dwight, I hope its been a good flight
You make fans cry in light of your efforts
Fix your freethrows and yell with more jeer
Who will you be come this next year

The inspiration is pretty clear. As much as I want the Mavs to have him, it seems like the news is saying he won't come here. I hope he plays terrible wherever he goes if it's not here.

I hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Corn Haze

Corn has never looked so disgusting
Whenever I see its yellow sight
I want to vomit discreetly
Why did corn have to be ruined for me
If ever there is a projectile of food thrown at me
Corn is usually involved in some way
It acts as a consistent glue for other materials
What side do I want with my steak
Would you like some corn on the cob?
Mexican food loves corn in everything
I'm even afraid of cream of corn
Why did I have a kid

This is a very disgusting poem, but I thought it had to be known that sometimes, children who go to the bathroom DID NOT EAT ANY CORN?!?!? I have not experienced this, but only heard stories. I will avoid changing diapers as much as possible.

I hope you enjoy!

Redheads and Deadheads

Orange redheads appeal to the deadheads
Where the dead walk the earth
And Reds win championships
Orange you glad we have baseball
When the dead walk the earth
And kill every person within 90 feet
The base runners goal is not only to beat the ball
But to avoid the dead roaming the field
If you get to home plate without a scratch
You are quite literally safe from flesh eating monsters
They may want your brains, but when they smell a redhead
The only thing that appeals to them is their hair
Deadheads have a fabulous life
Wearing red hair they tear off their victims heads
They will tear off their own hair if it isn't red
If you are not a redhead, you are not attractive
The deadheads will go a step further
And find the orange glow that goes best with their undead skin
They have bones sticking out, but it doesn't deter from the truth
Deadheads are redheads

In this poem, zombies are called "deadheads." I'm not sure why redheads appeal to them, but they do. I wanted to include the baseball scenario since baseball players wouldn't actually play during this mass chaos. Also, the Reds would never actually win a championship, so there's that.

I hope you enjoy!