Gooder and Badder
Bedder and fadder
What are Americans saying?
Boddle of wadder
Mudder and fodder
What is this game we are playing?

Funner and betterer,
Pitcher and ledder
They expect folks to unnerstan
Gimmes and wannabes
Mundees though Sundees
A hunnert and ten grand.

Gooder and Badder
Bedder and fadder
What are Americans saying?

Reedikullis and eeleegull
Furrin kinds of peepul
Should learn American English
Even when it’s ignernt,
And sounds  a bit differnt,
A definite ***** to distinguish.

Boddle of wadder
Mudder and fodder
What is this game we are playing?

Inneresting innerlopers
Drunky ***** goat ropers
That’s what they think strangers are.
Our dippy high schoo dropouts
Don’t care what education’s about
And only care about today’s sports stars.

Gooder and Badder
Bedder and fadder
What are Americans saying?
Boddle of wadder
Mudder and fodder
What is this game we are playing?

1 Way down upon de Swanee ribber,
2 Far, far away,
3 Dere's wha my heart is turning ebber,
4 Dere's wha de old folks stay.
5 All up and down de whole creation,
6 Sadly I roam,
7 Still longing for de old plantation,
8 And for de old folks at home.

9 [Chorus] All de world am sad and dreary,
10 Ebry where I roam,
11 Oh! darkeys how my heart grows weary,
12 Far from de old folks at home.

13 [Solo] All round de little farm I wandered
14 When I was young,
15 Den many happy days I squandered,
16 Many de songs I sung.
17 When I was playing wid my brudder
18 Happy was I --.
19 Oh! take me to my kind old mudder,
20 Dere let me live and die.

21 [Chorus] All de world am sad and dreary,
22 Ebry where I roam,
23 Oh! darkeys how my heart grows weary,
24 Far from de old folks at home.

25 One little hut among de bushes,
26 One dat I love,
27 Still sadly to my mem'ry rushes,
28 No matter where I rove
29 When will I see de bees a humming
30 All round de comb?
31 When will I hear de banjo tumming
32 Down in my good old home?

33 [Chorus] All de world am sad and dreary,
34 Ebry where I roam,
35 Oh! darkeys how my heart grows weary,
36 Far from de old folks at home

Normally after Thanksgiving I just rewatch the parade.
And try to talk my family into playing Christmas charades.
But I wanted to do some early holiday shopping.
And I decided to go do Black Friday and see what was popping.
My nephew said that he wanted the new video game.
I know it was of national fame but I forgot its name.
I said, Don’t worry I got you my nephew.
I will make sure to get a gift that would bless you.

I went to the Walmart and went to stand in line.
But I put on a hoodie because I was ashamed of the time.
Because it was the time of day where I would not be awake.
But I was here to buy presents and not tosteal- take.
So I said that Black Friday would not get the best of me.
And I hoped someone would not see  and think less of me.
Because I would often look at Black Friday on TV and laugh.
Karma must of thought this was extra revenge for me to take this path.

The doors opened, and the rush was like a Mudder race.
And you should have seen the look all up in this brother’s face.
It was a mixture of glee, humor, and I was so terrified.
I was so happy that I made it in one piece here inside.
Mothers were fighting over teddies, but I went for the bigger trophy.
If they didn’t think I would fight for this game, they didn’t know me.
I finally reached the game, but someone snatched it before I could!
She didn’t  look like she played  or had kids who did in the neighborhood.
So it wasn’t even the excuse of I play this game because I have no knees.
I thought I could ask please could I get the game for nephew who has the  diseases.

She put it in her cart, and this action really hurt my heart.
I wanted to get another game, but that would not be smart.
Because if my nephew didn’t like the game, I would be stuck.
But then something happened that told me I have good luck.
The game fell out of her cart and went to the floor too.
I looked around to make sure no one would judge me for what I would do.
I picked it up, because five-second rules did not apply to games.
I paid for it with money, and I left without any shame.

I knew it looked bad, but Black Friday takes away the soul.
I gave it to my cousin, and he said, Did you also get the controls?
I must of forgot in the rush, but I could order it online.
Because I’m sure if I get it in the store, someone would take what was mine.
So I had to return it, because it was also the wrong gaming system.
I vowed never to do Black Friday again, that’s not the lifestyle I’m trying to live in.

I'm wallowing again.
stuck in another rut
like a mudder who took
one too many chances.

!I couldnt possibly pull myself out of that!"
the mudder yells,
but  you gently remind him
that he's full of ****.

You take a step back.

Breathe.
One.
Two.
Three.

Hello, nice to see you again.
For a moment
I was lost.

Buster ******* was his name
and poetry was his game
he would swagger into town like he was it
the mudder feeking sun of a *****

He could dance a good jig
for he did not play a lot you see
when the bullets came in flying
he would love to dance with them

Buster could be really kind
he loved life and it's wonders
he was one of a no teller
was Buster *******, that feller


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

By NeonSolaris

© 2013 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)

Det sitre i kroppen
Som utålmodigheden
Det spænder i hver en nerve
Ligsom stramme snørebånd.

Jeg får nu kvalme ved hver en tanke der strejfer mig, og kaster realitytjek(s) ind i fjæset på mig. For jeg har jo aldrig forstået, før efter tiende gang, tyvende gang, for jeg forstår jo aldrig hvorfor?

Stikker, graver, kaster mudder fraser i hovedet på hver en idiot, der snakker om følelser for et andet menneske. For jeg tror ligeså lidt på “kærligheden”, som djævlen og hans tro på uskyld.

Som tålmodigheden
Sitre det i kroppen
Ligsom stramme snørebånd
Spænder det i hver en nerve.

with gratitude shallow
and three legged horse,
the broken is lucky and kin,

with meat more than sallow
and set offling's course,
the track's making room for some sin,

I'm stuck in the knowing,
the gravemarker's mill,
at best, a false uppity-chin,

a groove for the mudder,
and Degas for the paint,
a noose off the jump

for the win.

hvorfor sove når man kan lave skolearbejde???!??

    lad os blot synke i dette mudder af ligegyldighed og

                                         falde ind i vanernes vold,


kan man undslippe? kan man forsvinde fra Det Skemalagte Liv?


       et klip-selv-ud liv, masseproduceret lige præcis til dig og dine behov
                            skal vi ikke sige det i hvert fald. det er    n e m t


            nemt      
                            konformt, kedeligt, gråt

at ligge fuldt påklædt på sengen, ingen
bekymringer om skoenes mudder
med en masende humørsvingningstrykbølge i brystet, pressende på ribbenet
som et lille, tungt mørkelilla prikket væsen, der forsøger at æde sig ud af mit kadaver
der i øvrigt er forslået fra at gå ind i tørrestativet klokken to om natten i et
vand-drikningsprojekt
klædt i nattens sorte, sorte jakkesæt, som mændende og mågerne og tankerne og alt i mørket er