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Keebo Nov 2020
I’m at a party
With my best friends Mary, Molly & Charlie
I’m wearing women jeans and a fishnet tee
With a smile I got from a post memory
I slip into a whole new personality
Because the other me needs some sleep

I walk around
Like I’m the bees knees and not the sheep
But I do say the most ridiculous things
Like Ringo was the real star of the scene
I wanna live inside Slash’s hat for a week
And Jim Morrison really died at age 43

I’m feeling things
These people are ******* ***** to me
They only love it when your mental health slips
It’s one big party for them until reality hits
That’s when they drift and forget you exist
Isn’t life one savage *****?
Keebo Nov 2020
There is a girl inside my head
Running round and round
In a pretty black dress
If I write about her, maybe she could rest
Here goes nothing, let’s put it to the test
—————————————————-
Her name is Beth, she’s a fragile mess
But she’s beautiful in every sense
She plays guitar and sings with her heart
Dedicates her entire life to art
She’s one of a kind, the prettiest star
The serious moonlight in the dark
—————————————————
If this poem is ****** than excuse me
I never really wanted you stop running really
There is two good David Bowie references in this cheesy poem
Keebo Nov 2020
A girl and a boy
Higher than the moon
Talking all night in a neon room  
Trading secrets, dropping disguises
The ****** tension between them rises
As his hand races up and down her thighs
She stares at him with big **** me eyes
They agreed on no strings or aftermath feelings
Just some fun *** without meaning
Grinding hips with moaning lips
Body sweat drips whilst they get their fix
Hair pulling, back scratching
They only share a kiss when they’re finishing
But the next day, she’ll leave
Putting it behind her after a few drinks
But he, he’ll put his pen to paper and think
About making her the next subject of his poetry
Keebo Jul 2020
I’m listening to Siouxsie and the Banshees
The song “Happy House” repeatedly
I’m laughing at the irony
The projections of a prefect family
Blonde hair, smiles and sunshine everywhere
Everybody’s thin and everyone cares
But sadly, that’s not our reality
That’s just something we see on the TV screens

What we have is husband’s beating wives  
Children on the street dying from a high
Angels losing their faith because of ****
And body size is always on the mind
But like Siouxsie says it’s safe & calm if you sing along
“This is a happy house, we’re happy here in the happy house
To forget ourselves and pretend all’s well
There is no hell.”
Music has and always will be an escape from this ****** reality. This poem is based on one of my favourite songs that makes me feel a little more “sane”
Keebo Jul 2020
He has trouble letting go of bad memories  
It’s the only thing that keeps him company
Some people say he needs therapy
He whispers to himself daily

He doesn’t want to get rid of the pain
It reminds him life is just a game
But when the soul can’t take the strain
That’s when the fragile heart breaks

This happens to be the start of his art
He creates poetry so he doesn’t fall apart
He shares it with us so we can say
“**** man, I feel the same”

That is his aim, it helps him to stay sane
Reaching out to those who can relate
This could be his claim to fame
But writing will always be his main escape
I like to think the main goal for poets is to make those who are reading FEEL and lately it has made me reflect a lot on why I write and what I do it for so this is my ode...to myself
Keebo Jul 2020
He needs no introduction
In this game of seduction
He plays and plays, leading women astray
Bringing satisfaction and in return
All he wants is your dedication
They say he’s the salvation
But he’ll lead maidens into temptation
They’ll believe they have found perfection
But little do they know, he has lovers in every location
He leaves the men in frustration
They please themselves with *******
But if a lady sees through these illusions
She’ll shout “YOU ****” in confusion
He softly replies with
“Dear, why would I be a **** if it takes two to make love?”
Dedicated to my man Giacomo Casanova
Keebo Jul 2020
Dallas, November 1963
Jackie wears a pink dress at her husband’s request
Unaware that it’ll soon be a mess
As they ride through a crowd of the press
She wonders which **** her husband gonna **** next
Questioning how much fake can her heart take
She does a deep breath but suddenly
A bullet shot hits his neck & another through his head
Leaving poor old Kennedy for dead
Blood staining Jackie’s pink dress
Jackie O
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