Plenty of poems from broken hearts who got loved then dumped.
Women writing poems about wanting a man back after he dirty dogged her.
Don't take rocket scientist to know something wrong with that picture.
Clue to men who ain't going to stay put even if he put a ring on it.
He's flirting with everything in a skirt, He ain't attentive after he hit it,
You gotta be the one always calling, He don't call unless he wants to hit,
He gets defensive when you want to know why he wasn't where he said he'd be.
Those are signs he's c-h-e-a-t-i-n-g and so are the ones coming up.
You catch him in lies and he makes you think your losing it.
He closes window of his computer when you enter the room.
All his is password protected and he wont tell you his passwords.
He's getting and receiving text messages he wont let you read.
He leaves the room when he gets a call.
If you answer his phone you get hang ups, phone rings until he answers.
He wont let you meet his friends or his family.
He starts arguments so you wont go with him when he leaves.
Men don't get pissed cause I'm ratting you out. Read one too many
heart break poems to be sorry for truth telling on my gender.
Men think about sex when they not having it.
If he don't want to hit it he's hitting it else where.
Coming up is ones to skip and avoid.
You can skip the ones who look at your cleavage and not your eyes.
You can skip the ones who live with mamma.
If he wants you to hurry up and quit talking or makes you feel like you
can't do nothing right, skip him too ladies or you gonna be crying
your eyes out over him.
Confused now and need to sit and think about what I think about religion.
Reading something posted by a dude writing about being a good religious
person then turns around and says amen to trash talking somebody.
Can you say hypocrite or is that the way of religious in America?
I've got a few Christmas traditions and they cost me more than I can afford.
I'm paying off credit cards long after Jolly old St. Nick's season is over.
I accept that I over spend and admit to not being frugal with my money.
I accept others who do the same at Christmas when man expects you to
spend on credit to save face so you don't look like a no gifting jerk to all.
What I can't accept are Americans faking being religious and lying.
How can you call yourself a Christian when you get angry over stupid shit?
How can you goto church on Sunday but hate your neighbor?
Kings James version of the bible lists the seven deadly sins of mankind.
I know religious people who commit sins of pride, covetousness, lust, anger,
gluttony, envy, sloth and know many more who have broken commandments.
I'm not religious and don't know how I can be with abundance of fake in religion.
We got fake religious people posting poetry about being Christians but
they turn around and say mean ass shit in poems about other poets.
Can you say hypocrite? Religious people writing poems hurting feelings?
What is fake and what is real when it comes to religion? Watching all the messed
up things religious people do in America has me confused and hating fake
religious claiming to believe in God.
Someone said I'm a so so writer and I'm not that good.
The words didn't offend me and I'm working at improving.
Here's the short list of what I'd like to do with and for you.
I embrace words most need to look up and love when you use them.
Sit back and read this poem I wrote and hope you like.
I'd like you to walk beside me enjoying the view from the pier.
I know you have difficulties walking without pain
so we take it slow and stop as much as you required.
I'd like to talk to you for hours using intelligent words.
I'd like to gift you long love poetry written on parchment paper.
I'd like you to write poetry for me using a King's English.
I LOVE it when you use words found in a thesaurus!
I like the way you make poetry writing easy breezy.
I'd like to get to know you better face to face and use our words.
I've heard you speak and I love hearing the sound of your voice.
I would love it if you called me and said you want to hear me breath.
I'd like you to write and sing a song just for me one day.
I'd like to know your favorite perfume and gift it to you.
I'd like you to paint a portrait of me and I'd hang it on my wall.
I'd like to know what you do when you're off net.
I wont follow you around town to discover where you go.
I'd like to know your secrets if you wanted to share them.
I'd like to know your favorite foods and prepare them for you.
I read words and know you like being read to and would like to
read works by your favorite authors to you under a shade tree.
I'd like to build a time machine for you to go back in time
to before you lost trust and faith in all men not to hurt you.
I like your long poems and love we share a love of big and small words.
You could be the bird in the D.H. Lawrence poem called "Self-pity"
I like how you inspire me to keep writing poetry and to get better at it.
my eyes burned when I read your poems
when I saw the most real and amazing parts of you that you keep hidden at all times
I often look at the people you surround yourself with and wonder how they can't see the beauty,
the beauty that is so obviously there
but it's okay. it will be because through everything, all the pain that is there, lying just beneath surface
I see it
I'm not much for words or life changing advice but I hope that with my presence or a strawberry lemonade slushie,
you will know that I see it.
Others see it too, just please believe me.
When I told you that all you can do is just 'be you'
I didn't mean it in the cliche way that it sounds...
I meant it from the deepest most genuine parts of my being,
because if you were to do that, just 'be you'
I can't even begin to explain how amazing that would be.
Because you are.
And you are worth so much more than you realize.
So many words flowing through my head...
How can they translate,
Into a beautiful creation,
Such as a poem.
I write many poems,
When I talk,
The words flow out,
Like a true poet.
Then when they go to paper,
They're clumsy as fuck,
They don't make sense.
They're just like my mind.
I wrote one poem,
That I really wanted to share.
But its so sad,
It would cause people to worry,
Theres no need to worry.
My words are great,
My poetry is fine,
And my mind is destroyed.
I went to Old Saint Rick today
And here's what he had to say:
Two poems a day to keep the sadness away
- one to laugh at
- one to keep my ailments thin
Two songs to sing to keep my voice loud and proud
- one to practice vibrato
- one to make my voice crack
Two good acts to keep my feet on the ground
- one hello to a stranger
- one to keep cash away from fingers
And he said bananas and vegetables wouldn't hurt either.
I'm glad I listened when I saw Saint Rick,
because his handwriting, uh, isn't that chic.
But I don't know what your dream girl's like
And what she writes
And how she walks
Is she a happy one?
Because I feel so alone
Is she lovely?
Because all I know is I'm lonely
Will she read you books
Because I will write you poems
Every day when you come home
Will she give you love
For I will never leave
And when she walks away
Look around because I stayed
i have written poems solely about You and i think it is time to write about something else. for a long time, You have been the subject of everybody's interest and it has made me envious of how they could describe You better than i. i write this to celebrate the existence of others because they behold as much beauty as you and should be much appreciated, too. also because some of Them hold much more potential than You but it is only you who get the attention. a bit unfair, is it not? i do wish to be able to write more about Them and minimize the times i write about you.
i hate thinking about love sometimes
for some reason, i know that
little kids know how
love works more than the regular
angsty teenagers who think
they know everything better
for another, i know that
knowing even just a little bit
about love might actually
ruin my ability to know
and another still, i know that
love, this one infinitesimal piece of shit,
can drive me to oblivion but
i know that this shit i call
love will be the fire igniting
another organ in my body
when knowing is not present
i hate thinking about love sometimes
it makes me write poems
Dissing amazing poets prose and angst they posting on net site for peotry
makes you look like you queen and king of petty and uncool.
Got a grade school nephew he is age four and he speaks without thinking.
We know why little kiddies speak out and can't control nasty actions.
Why grown ass people sit on net dissing poet's poems.
Me thinks it's like having a nasty out of control mind like kiddies
like when those kiddies diss poets poems and actions are nasty.
Repeating for you what those who are wise know and with no dissing.
If you do not enter the tiger's cave, you will not catch its cub.
American meaning be like nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Posting whatever the hell poems is good and no such thing as a bad poem.
on poetry site this be no write poem, no poems under name.