I'm not that big
in fact
i crack under pressure
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V
me
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 5:12 PM UTC
Freezing Moon by the stereo
and as a bed poet
I'm takin' a ****
*Did you know about that guy
who slit his wrist… on this?* she says.
No; Martha, Jessica, Julia: but still…
Here, alone, with the MacBook Air
- or was it Pro? Nevertheless,
an useless tool for worthless ****
**** Pr0n, Pony - ************
Here, alone, I and only I writes with the capital I.
And after the **** has gone
it feeds the air with oriental glams of leprosy:
and after a long working day I am not afraid,
watching its face, as I'm flushing it in the toilet
just like all the bitches' poetries @ Home-Poetry.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 5:02 PM UTC
Gay
you ******* ******
FAGET!
blue boy blues
blue boy's eyes
here in my room
no, no,
i'm bisexual, you see
i'm a poet, you see
I'm Bret Easton Ellis
disguised in a fashion identity
twisted lovers between your ragged sheets
rrr-rr
call me, Beverly Hills 90-210-SIX-SIX-SIX
i eat more chicken than any man can meat
but i'm no more mean than you
here
with a sick pack of abs
drinking a can of beer
PABST! BLUE RIBBON!
Cold sirens sing for you
and me
SHOOT! SHOOT! SHOOT!
siren's ****
The protection for my love
come in my eyes and insecurity
no one dances in the ballroom
the bride legs' are opened wide
in my *****
in this dark fantasy
all night
touching my self
behind my mother's bed
******** my mind
there you're lying with me
with a spike in your arm
i'm troubled, you see
i'm messed up, you see
i'll eat your heart out, won't breathe,
won't bleed and scratch and crawl
i'll rip you
LIMB
BY
LIMB
she says: hold me, i'm fallin'
and then i saw your face
and then i saw your smile
dancing
to some Yeezy song on the stereo
there, all alone, put your make up on
and tie off my arm
and turn the T.V. on
and fire up these boys
and give me another blow job
- before i'm on the nod.
*Go ahead and smile, you ****
I've rotten and snorted,
sneezing other men's
***** in your room
- milked you like a cow
- loved you like my mom.
And i'm nothing but an
used ****** Love:
the kind of thing you clean
with a mop and bucket.
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 12:29 PM UTC
this ain't no art, man,
this is just a careless whisper
this is just George Michael
singing in your stereo
this is just your bourgeois-blues
this is merely a bewilderment
this is not the art, you know it,
you ******
you ****
you chronic masturbator
you who dare to write on the internet
dancing with yo papa' shoes
and in yo mama' lingerie
ah, look at yourself, a human miracle
Angel of a foreign Harlem,
you who wasted all away,
speaking in foreign tongues
inside the thighs of a british stripper,
you idiot
you *****
and when i'm done i'll come for you,
like a ****
like a dog
sniffin' and slidin' in your park
in your ***** trailer park
there with your fat-fuck-husband
stalkin' yo every move
you *****
you ****
and when i'm done i'll look for you,
simple as that
simple as an Einstein formula
served to you on exotic dishes
by Norma from Twin Peaks,
cars for the missus and furs for the mistress
and when you'll die you'll ****
between all your champagne wishes
and it'll be ******* ridiculous.
But that's life, babe.
Get down on thursday,
drains you in May.
You *****
so be-my-babe
i say be-my-babe
in black and white
like the Ramones
or the Ronettes or
the Rolling Stone
- i still want to know
how your insides look like,
- i still want to save
your capitalist nature
in my mother's fridge,
- i still want to fly
high on a jet plane with you,
alone,
with or without needs,
crashing on our bridge.
I love you-
love me!
I put my gun in your hands.
I push it. I shovel it.
My bones are broken
bound by all the words
i never dared to say
- and here, my love, right here,
i put IT in my mouth,
i feel the cold steel in my tongue,
-- how much blood from
such a tiny hole, Lizaveta!--
and this, and so much more.
but please, i say please,
would you feed me?
would you need me?
i'm a little angel drowning in candies
who's eating his heart out and ******** his candy
ah, would you say this? Would you?
Just because it ain't cool?
Well if i'm not cool i'll drive my kite all night
and take my lunchbox and
shoot Panama down and
shoot Mexico down and
shoot a *** smoker down
and shoot a crack dealer down
and shoot a beer dealer down and
shoot Mexico down
shoot Osaka down
Kabrula kaysay Brula Amal
amala senda Kumahn Brendhaa!
Kabrula kaysay Brula Amal
amala senda Kumahn Brendhaa!
my love will gun down all your school
Look at me - i say, look at me!
*Kabrula kaysay Brula Amal
amala senda Kumahn Brendhaa!
Kabrula kaysay Brula Amal
amala senda Kumahn Brendhaa!*
and don't you forget to say my name,
as i'll
****
YOUR
SKULL
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 11:34 AM UTC
«So teach ******
a thousand romance
and play, and sing,
and dance?
no one will ever
understand.
Go tell ma'
i cant' pay the rent;
Go tell ma'
these are twisted sinews
from a tiger heart:
Go tell ma'
my life is only fluff.»
Dreamin' is free?,
don't tell that to me;
I've spent awake
my time in bed
so tired, I've lost
everything I had.
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 4:05 AM UTC
1. You are not alone.
2. You are like a special flock of snow: unique.
3. You prefer the smell of freshly new books to the one of the old ones in the public library.
4. You like takin' naps every one in a while, endearingly dozed, upon your mattress or on the couch, when no-one sees you - approximately after lunch.
5. You smile with your heart when Backstreet Boys are on the radio, remembering.
6. You can instantly remember and distinguish the sound of your mother's stroll on the stairs.
7. You wonder if the passing stranger will remember you like you do - every day of your life.
8. You like to wake up restored in the soft early morning, breathing air near your window and pour fresh coffee on the mug your lover's brought you from his/her last trip, right there near your rusks and grandma's cherry jam.
9. You are moved to happy, silent tears, when what was your favorite cartoon episode comes up on someone else's baby TV.
10. You are beautiful.
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 12:38 PM UTC
I think I fell in love with a porn-star
And got married in a bath-room
Honeymoon on the dance-floor
And got divorced by the end-of-the-night.
On her thin white neck
the Devil's mark.
Butt-I'm in love with my porno-chick;
I present her to my mother
with a video, with my MacBook Pro™,
smokin' her Marlboro™ clove cigs,
all glimmer up with cheap make up
falling curls over her shoulders,
between you and me, o'er her *** in debris.
There's only one, and one there's only:
don't bother me and my ***** chick
if you don't get cheap thrills from a midnight flick
if you're feeling suicidal, or barely lonely.
And I love her.
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 7:53 AM UTC
I used to watch your ****
shamelessly, naked, here,
on my mother's couch, alone.
I used to watch your ****
until the sunrising and my
hand felt dumb 'til the morn.
I used to watch your ****
reminiscing nights of *****
as Jesus set as stone.
I used to watch your ****
but then I stalked you on Facebook™
and find out you have a life
and find out you have a baby
and find out you have an old spanish husband
who's got scars, and tattoos, and smoke cigarettes,
and find out you got ugly
as the years and years passed by
in a careless whisper, of all the nights
I used to watch your ****
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 8:30 PM UTC
I've watched a video on hamsters™
that reminded me of you
between your riddles and answers,
the tired mother on the rearview mirror.
Many times do I wonder
as you opened the door
with your yellow hair
falling on shoulders
nothing to say
naked
nothing to do
as you stroked and stroked
and stroked.
"Do you love me
- like I do?"
But then again I'm also doomed
to slit my wrists under the moon:
that same old moon, already missed.
Black rickety bridges
upon bayous and flowers
Stephen King's novel, then devoured:
let's go to Albuquerque,
and count the rings
around my eyes.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 11:36 AM UTC