Hide and go Seek Yourself Out
Destiny's a fickle date; you can dance and dance and dance all night,
tip toe tap tap tap your feet and waltz jagged lines until your soles bleed,
dance one direction then off in another trailing ****** footprints,
evidence of where you've been - a hint at where you'll go,
it's never so simple though, is it?
Maybe your date never wanted to go to the ball,
maybe you took her out on a picnic,
rolling green hills and a sunset,
"oh oh oh no" though, "no no no" she says,
Destiny, Destiny - she throws you for a loop,
Hooks, jabs, cancer, unemployment, all thrown the same way by she that crazy ***** Destiny,
but that's OK you roll with the proverbial punches,
duck, bob and weave your way through life to make it to your end goal of bedding Destiny!
or did you?
You could do it all right and still not get her, not meet expectations,
a long night with lustful, kissless lips longing for Destiny.
Nothing is certain.
Nothing is certain but that the night will end,
and when it does where will you be?
Will it be where you wanted to be?
Does it matter?
Of course not; because wherever you will be you will be with your Destiny.
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 1:55 AM UTC
Dear Whiny Fat *****
Stop whining you fat *****
I don't find your curve(s) beautiful as it falls short of feminine,
breast and hip bring forth lust like a tray of holiday cookies,
helpful internet sayings are fatty hoe-deurves
you devour them,
greedy mouths pointed teeth digging in to every bit of it because why work hard when you can talk loud?
Why go for a jog when you can misquote Marilyn?
Why choose the salad when the big mac's just as beautiful?
It's not
I do not envy gluttony,
I do not envy sloth,
I do not lust for them.
double zero may not be attractive but throwing a 2 in front of it is fatty-icing on the cake,
so talk about "oppression" while you scoff down more than Ebo and his family have had in a week,
starvation and desperation dancing intertwined tip-toeing around his house,
he wakes up one morning to his sons tears because all he's had is a slice of bread
while you decide to treat yourself to an ice cream cus' you didn't supersize today
You can call me an *******
let molten words flick from your tongue,
lace'm with lava and let them fly
but at the end of the day you only have yourself to blame
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 12:51 AM UTC
Who gives a ****
Melody is dead. Give your heads a shake.
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 12:25 PM UTC
I say no wrong I've seen her thong,
She works it like a pro!
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 11:44 AM UTC
Melody was a sweet girl! She'd never gotten off on the wrong note with anyone before.
This is some kind of sick line you've dropped and sir you're all wrong.
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 10:13 PM UTC
Strapped for cash she shook her ***
they called her Melody
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 10:10 PM UTC
But no body can be found.
It's a tragedy that dear Melody hasn't made a sound.
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 10:01 PM UTC
I was asked
If I believed in a god
And when I shook my head
Asked why not?
And that got me thinking,
Why not?
It's quite simple really.
I only see my brother
On very rare occasions
And I've lost my mother to her lover
A man named Merlot.
But I'm not the only child who lives this life.
Jose and Jack
Invade far too many homes
With promises of turning the clock back.
But I only know my story
And how God didn't step in
Two years ago I thought about killing myself
And if I had to write a list of 21 reasons I got there?
Six of them would be days the rain came down too hard for me to be seen,
Five for the amount of park benches I slept on before I learned how to ask for help
Four, for the number of times her hand should have been awarded a speeding ticket for racing across my face
Three for the friends I watched lowered into the ground
Two times I was left curled into a ball wishing I knew why he thought it was okay to take such an intimate part of me
One time that she told me that she never raised a ****
In comparison it's sad
The list that kept me here.
Really, it's the number three.
One for the teacher who told me I wasn't alright.
One for the girl who stood by me and held me in a parking lot while I cried
The last for the boy who's birthday is forever inked
Into my left arm.
These are things I'll never let be seen.
The simple fact is
It's much easier to smile and laugh
Than to curl up
And ask
Why?
It's easier to say yes
Than to say no
Easier to give every part of myself, trying to help
Than cut the toxic out of my life
Or preserve the positive.
That's just something ingrained into me.
I'm pushing
and pushing
Because you see, I'm in the habit of full force shoving
(people right out of my life.)
Though I'm not sure where I got it from
Maybe it was my mother
When she thought it would be easier
To send me away
Than take a look at what my brother and I were trying to say.
In the end though,
This trait is a ***** dark part of me
That screams to be fixed.
There's nothing more to it.
So when I'm asked
If I think there's a god
I'll just smile soft
Shake my head
And go on with my day.
Because it's easier than asking
How could He leave us this way?
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 9:56 PM UTC
I laugh a lot.
I laugh at myself because I am hard stuck to find the beauty in the poetry
but somehow to others words flow like vicious currents rip through ugly ducklings never to be grown to beautiful swans down the river Delta,
the Nile,
we call it emotion, this the true beauty of the words is always flowing page to mouth to mouth to ear,
honey water to be digested by the soul and mind
and some breast stroke some and some do the butterfly and some just fuckin' drown...
so you could say to some poetry is no laughing matter...
yet here I titter like a child because I cant help but wonder if Daniel's saying penance or just stuttering the word *****
So I laugh
I laugh and laugh and laugh I laugh at myself I definitely laugh at you people
I ha ha ha my course thoughts, outwards reflecting anger passion, turning it away
with the yip yawing of jaws and gums flapping in celestial proportions of denial
snorts and giggles push back emotion drowning out any semblance of fear or hate
because who's to say I can handle it,
call it sociopathic tenancies but I'll make it make belief because we just cant handle the fairy tale we live in
we cant handle that there might be no happily ever afters and we cant handle that we dont have a Prince charming to take care of us
but instead the crown is Crown Royal and you love it, love the burn down your throat,
something to keep you alive something to keep you awake but aren’t the two just one of the same anyway?
What is each day but a dream if automation takes you over rides you out like a machine and pushes 100110101.
So I ask you,
I ask you to listen to the words and the voice,
swim down the river any way you want just get your feet wet because living on dry land is living in fear
But more importantly I ask me
I ask me to do what I asked you to do, but how can I trust me to do what I told you to do when I hardly connect the concept of we and have used it but once in my work, though I am no different than you!
Because what are we if not all the same?
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 9:53 PM UTC
Mother oh Mother. Why?
I find myself
Torn
Between two lives
Mother, oh Mother,
My future self and my past strife
They battle
As I watch with wide eyes
Mother oh Mother,
My head pounds
As my heart
Is pulled two ways
Splitting down the middle
Like the poems I wrote in the beginning of high school
Mother oh Mother,
They were ripped to shreds
And tossed in the trash compactor,
Mother oh Mother,
My heart can't take the same fate
As my first love letter.
Laughed at and ignored,
Set aside when it became a bore.
Mother oh Mother,
you once told me
Don't ever grow up
Well that was a sore mistake
Considering I grew up
Far too quickly
In order to make up
For your ****** up faith
In that ******* bottle
Mother oh Mother,
Do you remember the night
That you shattered it against the wall
(you had missed my head)
Mother oh Mother,
it made for a pretty metaphor
Representing
My life after you
Decided
Facing demons
Was best done
With a little help
From your friends
Jack, Jose and Morgan.
Mother oh Mother,
They never had any right
To take over our lives
Just like him
An invader
Nothing like kin.
No matter how much you insist
There's no problem,
Not even you,
Can begin to understand
What they've cost you.
Mother oh Mother
The memory is clear
As the night you wept,
"Don't grow up to be like me"
You whispered it quietly
Just past midnight
While you sipped on your wine.
Out of that diluted cracked glass,
Sleeping pills in hand.
Mother oh Mother
Do you remember how I sighed?
Closed my eyes.
Hid my tears,
It never did me well to cry
Not with you.
Mother oh Mother,
That night stands clear in my mind.
I took you to bed,
Tucked you in, kissing your forehead.
Setting yet another glass of clear water, two advil down
This night was repeated far too many times.
Mother oh Mother,
Do you even know?
Every single last day
I was screaming on the inside
Mother oh Mother,
Mother oh Mother,
Mother oh Mother,
Why?
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 9:49 PM UTC