gypsy-bard - Hello Poetry

C'mon! Spank me like the naughty little girl I am! **** ME! **** ME! Stop being a man! See this? Right here? My tight little hole? Put it right there, baby! Homosexuality makes you whole! Put this on your tongue, this seed of pomegranate. Have a little fun! Let loose your granite! Ice shavings and ice cream, my sweet little angel, Come closer, come closer, let me study your angels, Put your **** in my mouth. I'll **** you off. *** in my mouth, and let yourself loft. I'm not one for chains and whips, But I'm more than up for shafts and tips! *********** sliding in; so sweet; Pound me harder with your big, strong meat. The good'ol in-out in-out ~ The rhythm of life. The dullness of cream ~ the glint of a knife. Petrifying pangs of pleasure; cross a prostate ~ pouring, Sweetly like ~honey~suckle~ Alluring Breathe, my darling, like music, like a breeze. Like the blood in my ears; like the wind in the trees. In the closet, we are allowed but seven minutes. But that is not enough! By the time its up, I won't be finished. So for now, my darling, put your lips on my cheek. And allow me one, little, innocent peak.

0

Dec 6, 2014

Dec 6, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC

Kink

C'mon! Spank me like the naughty little girl I am! **** ME! **** ME! Stop being a man! See this? Right here? My tight little hole? Put it right there, baby! Homosexuality makes you whole! Put this on your tongue, this seed of pomegranate. Have a little fun! Let loose your granite! Ice shavings and ice cream, my sweet little angel, Come closer, come closer, let me study your angels, Put your **** in my mouth. I'll **** you off. *** in my mouth, and let yourself loft. I'm not one for chains and whips, But I'm more than up for shafts and tips! *********** sliding in; so sweet; Pound me harder with your big, strong meat. The good'ol in-out in-out ~ The rhythm of life. The dullness of cream ~ the glint of a knife. Petrifying pangs of pleasure; cross a prostate ~ pouring, Sweetly like ~honey~suckle~ Alluring Breathe, my darling, like music, like a breeze. Like the blood in my ears; like the wind in the trees. In the closet, we are allowed but seven minutes. But that is not enough! By the time its up, I won't be finished. So for now, my darling, put your lips on my cheek. And allow me one, little, innocent peak.

24

To hang by barbed wire, Or to be tossed in a fire, The sultry little liar, Upon the licks of a pyre, And the situation is dire, When plucked on a lyre,

0

Nov 5, 2014

Nov 5, 2014 at 9:24 AM UTC

Barbed Wire

To hang by barbed wire, Or to be tossed in a fire, The sultry little liar, Upon the licks of a pyre, And the situation is dire, When plucked on a lyre,

6

Viridescently A murky green, Undone, Given unto a scene, Like knights in blue satin, Garbed in old fashion, Cherry *** In turgid rations Variant ‘Hey’ In things of gay, Emblem, Like golden sun rays,

0

Oct 22, 2014

Oct 22, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC

Untitled

Viridescently A murky green, Undone, Given unto a scene, Like knights in blue satin, Garbed in old fashion, Cherry *** In turgid rations Variant ‘Hey’ In things of gay, Emblem, Like golden sun rays,

12

This place is Full of terrib- le poetry and people who t hink they can write. I hate this pla- ce and all of it's love and hate a- nd death poetry written by kids with no idea ab out life in gener al

0

Oct 22, 2014

Oct 22, 2014 at 9:35 AM UTC

Hello Poetry is terrible

This place is Full of terrib- le poetry and people who t hink they can write. I hate this pla- ce and all of it's love and hate a- nd death poetry written by kids with no idea ab out life in gener al

14

You know, poetry gets old after a while of reading.

0

Oct 20, 2014

Oct 20, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC

10w

You know, poetry gets old after a while of reading.

1

Memories of Broken things and Past dreams of Soap and seams, And all of it seems To teem with A neutral shade of Green As I sat and Plucked and preened Someone, somewhere, Started to sing, With the most Wonderful voice Almost as if they Hadn’t a choice…

0

Oct 19, 2014

Oct 19, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC

Thoughts on a girl,

Memories of Broken things and Past dreams of Soap and seams, And all of it seems To teem with A neutral shade of Green As I sat and Plucked and preened Someone, somewhere, Started to sing, With the most Wonderful voice Almost as if they Hadn’t a choice…

16

and Pickles from the jar, and tiny little cars, lined up against a hospital, far.

0

Oct 19, 2014

Oct 19, 2014 at 10:45 PM UTC

Watermelon Scars

and Pickles from the jar, and tiny little cars, lined up against a hospital, far.

3

A fresh page, Ripe to rape, To fill with Thoughts, emotions, rage A lot of poets are egotistical wankers who think they can write, but can't. I hate reading poetry, I love my poetry, Am I a narcissist? I hope not. I don't like narcissists. I can't write, What am I thinking? 'Sometimes life is not a Cake walk served up On a silver spoon' Don't write poetry, Josh. You can't do it... I'm not a poet. I listen to baby **** metal and Watch My Little Pony - I have long hair and I like rainbows. The sticky-note on my wall says: "Bah! Stanzas!" Another one says "Welcome to the Honorary Magical Unicorn Squad" So.... I started writing with intent, I defenestrated it, though... It is on the ground outside my window. I should go pick it up. I mean... It is cold outside. I don't know... Sometimes... You just have to let intent die and go with words that don't rhyme and express emotion, I'm not poetrying, right now. I'm talking to a red notebook, with thoughts reading 'I must show this to my brother and post this on a site with people I don't know that will hopefully 'upvote' my poem' It feels good not to be deep, To just turn my brain off and Write because what the **** else am I gonna do at 3'o'clock in the morning on Sunday. I'm a 13 year old boy, I probably will be whisked off to church with my mother at 7 am. I have a party today I need to go to. The boy I have a crush on will be there, and so will alcohol, so you know what that means. Oh god, That sound manipulative... What the **** Josh. Today I wrote something that was a couple tiers above Infant Annihilator lyrics. About ****** newborns, Why didn't I Cry? I described very vividly what I thought would happen in that situation with everything too, Including the baby's internal organs, I don't like my thoughts I'm a coltcuddler, I'm a furry I think about My Little Pony and Asian businessmen who teleport instead of taking the bus to work. My friend went to the school dance as Gamzee Or someone else. She's in some weird fandom... But I can't judge. I went as a rainbow I can't come out as Bisexual her or else some **** redneck kid will want my *** and head on a post on his lawn ********* Josh... Why couldn't you have been born a bisexual girl... Everyone likes bisexual girls. Don't tell anyone... But I like the way I look when I'm dressed as a girl. I'm being a drag queen for Halloween, and my friend, Kady, did my makeup for practice. I am beautiful as a girl. There's this boy In the high school who dresses up as a girl, but isn't gay. His name is 'Kailee' He is beautiful. They played 'Come on Eileen' at the school dance. Kady and her friend, Trinity, were doing the Patrick and Sam dance from 'The Perks Of Being a Wallflower' I was supposed to be charlie but they stopped the music before I was supposed to come in... **** Commies... Some of you have stopped reading. Some at 'Baby rape' Some at 13 year old boy' Some at 'Boy I have a crush' **** everyone who stop reading Josh You shouldn't masturbate. Josh You shouldn't read smut. Josh You should stop being such a little whiny pathetic brat. I hate myself "Give up on your dreams, kiddo," "But...no..." Don't hang in there. Fucking. Kill. Yourself. You stupid cunt. Y'no I want to write a book, Call it 'The Raft' About a girl named 'V' and a boy named Isaac Isaac is a real person. I loved him. He didn't love me. I cried. He didn't comfort me, though He was home I was home It was 11 at night on a school night. Y'no, I read a lot of gay smut. The best story was a scotch on the rocks. Scotch blows, Gets fucked, Fucks, And gets a boyfriend. I want a boyfriend, I just don't think Austin is gay or bisexual. I hope he is...

0

Oct 19, 2014

Oct 19, 2014 at 7:49 AM UTC

Untitled

A fresh page, Ripe to rape, To fill with Thoughts, emotions, rage A lot of poets are egotistical wankers who think they can write, but can't. I hate reading poetry, I love my poetry, Am I a narcissist? I hope not. I don't like narcissists. I can't write, What am I thinking? 'Sometimes life is not a Cake walk served up On a silver spoon' Don't write poetry, Josh. You can't do it... I'm not a poet. I listen to baby **** metal and Watch My Little Pony - I have long hair and I like rainbows. The sticky-note on my wall says: "Bah! Stanzas!" Another one says "Welcome to the Honorary Magical Unicorn Squad" So.... I started writing with intent, I defenestrated it, though... It is on the ground outside my window. I should go pick it up. I mean... It is cold outside. I don't know... Sometimes... You just have to let intent die and go with words that don't rhyme and express emotion, I'm not poetrying, right now. I'm talking to a red notebook, with thoughts reading 'I must show this to my brother and post this on a site with people I don't know that will hopefully 'upvote' my poem' It feels good not to be deep, To just turn my brain off and Write because what the **** else am I gonna do at 3'o'clock in the morning on Sunday. I'm a 13 year old boy, I probably will be whisked off to church with my mother at 7 am. I have a party today I need to go to. The boy I have a crush on will be there, and so will alcohol, so you know what that means. Oh god, That sound manipulative... What the **** Josh. Today I wrote something that was a couple tiers above Infant Annihilator lyrics. About ****** newborns, Why didn't I Cry? I described very vividly what I thought would happen in that situation with everything too, Including the baby's internal organs, I don't like my thoughts I'm a coltcuddler, I'm a furry I think about My Little Pony and Asian businessmen who teleport instead of taking the bus to work. My friend went to the school dance as Gamzee Or someone else. She's in some weird fandom... But I can't judge. I went as a rainbow I can't come out as Bisexual her or else some **** redneck kid will want my *** and head on a post on his lawn ********* Josh... Why couldn't you have been born a bisexual girl... Everyone likes bisexual girls. Don't tell anyone... But I like the way I look when I'm dressed as a girl. I'm being a drag queen for Halloween, and my friend, Kady, did my makeup for practice. I am beautiful as a girl. There's this boy In the high school who dresses up as a girl, but isn't gay. His name is 'Kailee' He is beautiful. They played 'Come on Eileen' at the school dance. Kady and her friend, Trinity, were doing the Patrick and Sam dance from 'The Perks Of Being a Wallflower' I was supposed to be charlie but they stopped the music before I was supposed to come in... **** Commies... Some of you have stopped reading. Some at 'Baby rape' Some at 13 year old boy' Some at 'Boy I have a crush' **** everyone who stop reading Josh You shouldn't masturbate. Josh You shouldn't read smut. Josh You should stop being such a little whiny pathetic brat. I hate myself "Give up on your dreams, kiddo," "But...no..." Don't hang in there. Fucking. Kill. Yourself. You stupid cunt. Y'no I want to write a book, Call it 'The Raft' About a girl named 'V' and a boy named Isaac Isaac is a real person. I loved him. He didn't love me. I cried. He didn't comfort me, though He was home I was home It was 11 at night on a school night. Y'no, I read a lot of gay smut. The best story was a scotch on the rocks. Scotch blows, Gets fucked, Fucks, And gets a boyfriend. I want a boyfriend, I just don't think Austin is gay or bisexual. I hope he is...

216

Several years have passed, Since I entered last, It all went by too fast, But what is past, is past, To roll down one's cheek, Like a little blue streak, To be all but meek, About being chique, To fall in love with a boy, To tease and be coy, To be bored out of your mind, and to play with a toy, To move and relocate, The urge to populate, To quietly suffocate and, To want to defenestrate, To tap and to pop, And cafeteria slop, Ask about a sad mop, And to epicly rock, To create a playlist, and to tease balled fists, To hide amongst swollen mist, And not to have time on your wrist, To drop a spork, and to study a cork, In order to work, And to stalk Bjork, Which brings us to now, And I don't know how, With the time I'm allowed, Through these lines, I quickly plowed,

0

Oct 19, 2014

Oct 19, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC

Several years

Several years have passed, Since I entered last, It all went by too fast, But what is past, is past, To roll down one's cheek, Like a little blue streak, To be all but meek, About being chique, To fall in love with a boy, To tease and be coy, To be bored out of your mind, and to play with a toy, To move and relocate, The urge to populate, To quietly suffocate and, To want to defenestrate, To tap and to pop, And cafeteria slop, Ask about a sad mop, And to epicly rock, To create a playlist, and to tease balled fists, To hide amongst swollen mist, And not to have time on your wrist, To drop a spork, and to study a cork, In order to work, And to stalk Bjork, Which brings us to now, And I don't know how, With the time I'm allowed, Through these lines, I quickly plowed,

32

My dearest love, If I were to explain the music in my ears, It’d be an algorithm of lovely ardor, Fervent beats and emotional rhythms, Pursue a possibly tangible idea, Shining lights and keyboards, Coffee colored electric energy, Pulsing in amber jelly motion, A metaphorical knife is ****** into the solar plexus, Stimulating the tear sacs, Which then open and shed a bassline, Which repeats in nonexistent space, Maybe… Just maybe… It stretches into eternity.

0

Oct 15, 2014

Oct 15, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC

Isaac

My dearest love, If I were to explain the music in my ears, It’d be an algorithm of lovely ardor, Fervent beats and emotional rhythms, Pursue a possibly tangible idea, Shining lights and keyboards, Coffee colored electric energy, Pulsing in amber jelly motion, A metaphorical knife is ****** into the solar plexus, Stimulating the tear sacs, Which then open and shed a bassline, Which repeats in nonexistent space, Maybe… Just maybe… It stretches into eternity.

15