quyenthenghiem

omg yes, cry hasselhoff.

His Airness!

I like you.

a boy in spain aged ten and two
parries a sword of wood and glue
upon his back a curtain cape he threw
and with his weapon built for war
his cry echoed to the crashing shore
commanding bulls before the matador
though all the boy could fight was sheep
his legs couldn't match their swiftest leap
and left him tumbling in a dusty heap
lying on the ground he spied a tree
greener than all the spanish seas
holding emerald leaves with fruit to please
the boy picked himself off his bum
and found out that the tree bore plums
big juicy slathering bites up to his gums
the fresh tart scent that filled his nose
its sweetness brought him to his toes
a heavenly delight a sheep would never know!

shaolin vs lama

sitting down i clutch
you firmly and i pretend
that i can ride but i cant
grandmother sees that i cant
i scrape my hands and knees
but i choose to sit again
perhaps over this particular
manhole cover i can ride
but realizing it had nothing
to do with it only a stroke
a luck shall do it
eventually i learn and
i never do it again