The Hipsters Downstairs

Some dudes moved in to our neighborhood
Wearing trucker hats that read ‘Hollywood’
There’s Mr. Park My Prius Just As Bad As I Can
Paul Giamatti and Social Cause Stan
Prius talking ’bout Alaska, how he volunteered
While he’s cooking tofu or something weird
Paul is so loud even Steve Jobs can hear
And we can’t decide if causes is Clark Kent or just queer

… Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

The hipsters downstairs
The hipsters downstairs
Nobody cares about
The hipsters downstairs
The hipsters downstairs
The hipsters downstairs
With their stupid facial hair
The hipsters downstairs

They rise at sunset say up all night
They just might be hipster vampires
Or more likely a werewolf for Paul with that beard
Nervous Nod causes could be Frankenweird
Apparently guitar is now the thing
They murder it all night, let’s hope that they don’t sing
And if I hear ‘In Alaska’ one more time
I’m gonna stick that guitar where the sun don’t shine

Chorus

They threw a party last weekend
They camped out in the yard
It wasn’t them throwing bottles I feared
But bustin’ out with Kubaya

Some dudes moved in to our neighborhood
Wearing trucker heads that read ‘Hollywood’
There’s Mr. Park My Prius just as bad as I can
Paul Giamatti and Social Cause Stan
And if I hear ‘In Alaska’ one more time
I’m gonna stick that guitar where the sun don’t shine
Or maybe call an Uber and tell the man
“Take ’em back to Alaska or Douchebagistan”

As promised, here is song number 2 of our Three Songs In Three Days Campaign. I don’t believe I’ve ever shared the lyrics to this one before either and that is probably due to the fact that it was mostly written by my husband. I just tweaked a couple of things and added the bridge.

This is the true (if slightly exaggerated) story of the neighbors who live below us. Fun fact! We actually practice in our apartment, right above their heads. We often wonder if this song goes through their minds and, if so, whether they realize it’s about them!

Fifteen

Fifteen pairs of underwear
Left on the bedroom floor
Fourteen items I forgot
To pick up from the store

Thirteen times reminding you
About tomorrow’s plans
Twelve frenzied calls from freeways cause
I don’t know where I am

Eleven times of coming home
From a day from hell
Ten TV dinners eaten that
Did not heat up too well

Nine times I asked “the garbage out?”
You claimed you didn’t hear
Eight peanut butter Oreos
That somehow disappeared

Seven days complaining that
I’ve got nothing to wear
Six drains that need plumbing since
They’re clogged up with my hair

Five neighbors pissed because we are
Rehearsing on their heads
Don’t forget the four in-laws
I think that’s enough said

About three dumpsters worth of junk
That have since accrued
The two monkeys that lie around
And eat up all our food

And then one other sleepless night
Spent listening to you snore
But I love you darling
So here’s to 15 more

For my husband on our Anniversary!

Inspired with the help of Dina over at Wine and Cheese Doodles and her post 15 to Life.

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Do Unto Neighbors…

The pervert with his robe agape
To best show off his fat
The mother down the hall who’s proud
To raise her two mean brats

The hipsters who get loud at night
And act nerdy and smug
The girls who giggle ‘hind thin walls
Cars pull up with their drugs

The foreign family’s footsteps sound
Like hippos passing by
And sadsack Carol’s chitchat’s duller
Then if you watch paint dry

The dirty slobs, bad parking jobs
Lack of consideration
The smoke from cigarettes waft in
Our window’s ventilation

The ones who are too friendly worse
Those not friendly enough
But none will beat those that will dare
To complain about us.

This one was inspired by Phil Taylor and his post 10 Ways My Neighbors Annoy Me. Thanks Phil!

 

The Unforgiven

I tried to forgive them,imgres-3
But couldn’t quite do it,
When recalling the matter,
And what led to it.

The illogical logic,
That brought it to an end,
Made me question wanting,
Their friendship again.

And grudges and notions,
I thought juvenile,
Never quite allowed me,
To reconcile.

Making awkward moments,
As we pass on the stairs,
So haunted are the hallways,
Of the house we share.

There’s another bond broken,
And I guess it’s just tough,
I tried to forgive them,
But not hard enough.

Becoming That Person

It seems that Los Angeles,
is not a 24 hour town,
When we moved here from NY,
neighbors told us to turn it down.

They didn’t like our high heels,
clomping up and down the stairs,
And when I played my bass guitar,
It so did offend their ears.

And though we thought they were uptight,
and we scoffed at their restrictions,
It seemed our rebelliousness,
could lead to an eviction.

Now I have a job and kids,
and do not mean to complain,
But it sure is difficult
to wake up at 6 am.

And though the neighbors are lovely,
they sometimes party at night,
So am I hypocritical,
when I ask them to be quiet?

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Why Hannah Can’t Spel

Some children might be good at math,
And think it not so telling,
When they make a mistake,
Like a minor misspelling.

But I thought it rather sad,
And by no means funny,
When on my neighbor’s door hung her daughter’s sign,
Saying, “Welcome Ester Bunny.”

Spelling’s not always an easy task,
So by no means should we berate her,
I think the problem begins,
When we congratulate her.

If you celebrate her mistakes,
Your efforts will be foiled,
When you find yourself a victim of,
A child that is spoiled.

And if you are too careful ‘bout,
What will or won’t upset her,
Soon a grown woman will be,
Wishing all a Happy Ester.

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/poetry/