VaughanCreollo
Not much of a poet but more of a song writer, in the end aren't they pretty much the same? I don't write alone but with my partner in crime, Nathan Creollo. We are all damaged in some way or another but why show depression and regret, life goes on, so make it worth while and just have fun.
Drip
Blood
Crimson red and so beautiful
Maybe that's not the word
Majestic
That's it
Not gorgeous or even horrifying
Just majestic
Blood
Dripping from my nose
No big deal
Drip
With every drop I try to stop
Failure
Drip
Endlessly crimson
No matter how much I try to stop it
Drip
Another drop shows me failure
Dripping faster and faster
The sink fills
Drip
Drop by drop
I face my own mortality
A friend walks in
I reply its not a big deal
Drip
As I look in the mirror
My face like a rose
Resembling my own death
Drip
With the sweet red turning darker
Than the dawn to night
As the world starts to spin
I get light headed
Drip
One last drop
I drop
Dead
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 10:05 AM UTC
Sitting at home writing writing WRITING and the words dont flow
I sit while this muse doesn’t show.
I want to be unique I want to be original.
make this poem biblical.
I think in iambic.
And still the sirens in my skull stay silent of their sweet symphonies.
Trying to use figurative language,
Like a new born baby trying to use its new legs.
Putting my brain under an incubater,
Trying to force hatch ideas like eggs
Sitting in my room listening to slam
about to slam my head on the ground
bam bam bam!
Maybe write about corrupt uncle sam?
Try to be a shooting star and break the mold
But mold is gross
So I stay inside and remain quiet
And pretend that one day my slam might start a riot
Could I start a rebellion
And while fighting deppresion,
Could fight this opression,
of not being able to write this poem.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
I had a nice poem
I erased it because of a friend
That friend made fun of my poem
For that I hate him
That friend's name is Michael
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
It was nearly over in the cold dark October;
And each separate modified driving leaving us begging for more.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—as I sank in sorrow
These dirt driving devils, so hard to catch the win we might as well call it Elenore
For the season of speed and chasing the lead was over, we had lost Elenore—
Trophyless here begging for more
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 11:38 AM UTC
In this very week
I walked down the street
And looked past my feet
I saw a crack in the ground that wasn't sleet
I thought that if the world is as broken as the concrete
Then like Forman vs Ali
We would soon face a great defeat
Float like a butterfly sting like a bee
Was said by he
He who set boxing free
Rumble young man rumble
He said he was the greatest before he even knew
So no wonder he won Rumble in the Jungle
And knocked Williams out in just a few
If you dreamed of beating Ali, you better wake up and apologize
If you don't Ali will give you a beating
Even with blind eyes
Liston caught it first hand and no one heard his cries
For he's so fast he turns off the lights and makes it to bed before they go out
You can ask anyone without a doubt
He wasn't the greatest; he was the double greatest
As a catcher talks to a batter at the mound
Talking about and picking the round
He would knock you out and you have now found
That Ali is the greatest
And by far the best
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
If I died tomorrow, would anybody care
Would they be drowning in their sorrow, wishing I was there
To make everything alright, to be by your side
Cause in the end I was a true friend
It doesn't mater if your sad or mopey
Alls I have to do is crack a couple jokes see
I can brighten up the mood, inside any room
thats my personality, so why cant anyone see
You don't know what you got til its gone, til its gone
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 3:13 AM UTC
Fire I was born
Ashes I have risen
Victory... I shall walk
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 3:08 AM UTC
We are one of the same (we are one of the same)
My brothers and me (my brothers and me)
We will never change
We are one of the same
We can never be tamed
My brothers and me
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 3:07 AM UTC
Contagious disease
I cant get enough of you
You cant get enough of me
Contagious...Contagious....Contagious disease
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 3:04 AM UTC
Love is a four letter word
That gets spoken much more than it should
But what do you expect
When there is so much neglect
Oh you take what you can get
People come, people go
People lie you to the rope
Hang you nine feet off the ground
Oh they'll toy with your heart
Make you wanna fall apart
What is left of you now?
Hate is a four letter word
That gets spoken not as much as it should
But what do you expect
When there is so much regret
Oh you take what you can get
People come, people go
People lie you to the rope
Hang you nine feet off the ground
Oh they'll toy with your heart
Make you wanna fall apart
What is left of you now?
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 3:00 AM UTC