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David Bojay  Apr 2015
David Bojay Apr 2015
Light this up real quick lighter
****** hear Sage and they go insane
Who's to blame
Lonely soul just a name you can't detain this brain
Triple six what the **** is sane?
Seeing kittens without the ******* haze
Stroke game long and fast that's Usain
Can't hear you over your girls moans, what the ******* saying?
Super lubin
Leaving all you spoofs
Stupid ****** leave me drooling on the stool
So above to even fall for these hoes cause they come and go like my sadness that makes me feel like a ghost
Too legit to even roast on my foes
Thoughts of overdose
But I can't die cause I am the Goat
Dismiss the dope
Very cynical
Self heal without the clinical
I've been there
I wish it was that easy but it was too difficult
Get it from the back and yo girl in fear
Always teased for being weird
Changing routes like I'm swerving the steer
Off some xanax and all the *** isn't pleasing my emotion to disappear into what's really real
That's death and thats what make you ****** squeal
Ruthless, heart of steel
All I see is snakes when I walk the halls
Down to ball
Never for a *****, money and nothing else
Helps me dwell
Living well trapped in this mental cell
214 ***** where I learned to be myself
Live to excel and to focus on my wealth
Dumb ****** live to flaunt what they cant even cop
Your girl pop lock and drop on this 7inch ****
Dumb ****** get socked up in this world like if their throats clogged
****** sour lime
These acts so undefined
Yo girl kinda fine my girl a ******* dime
The truth I'll help you find
In time we'll be divine and our hearts won't divide
I swear these ******* flinch when I leave em cause the sticky getting to the *******
Up on a podium on some potent
I told myself I'd quit cause I'm just a student
Bish yo man got them moobies
Bish I'm on yo girls mental movies
Bish we smokin some doubies
Bish we making moves
Bish keep up with the groove
Bish yo girl got them cooties
Bish you acting pretty goofy
***** not into materialism but this **** is Gucci
Bish we trip on some lucy
Takes me a minute to make yo girl juicy
Nosey ****** boogie
Bish I'm genius but I'm still pretty gloomy
Dave Williams  Jul 2016
Dave Williams Jul 2016
b-dumm dumm
b-dumm dumm
b-dumm dumm
b-dumm dumm tchka ta weh...
tchka tchka tchka b-dumm

dumm dumm tchka tsk dumm tchka tish
dumm dumm tchka tsk dumm tchka tash
dumm dumm tchka tsk dumm tchka dish
tsk dumm b-dumm dumm tchka dumm bash

b-dumm dumm tish tchka dumm dumm tash
b-dumm dumm tish tchka dumm dumm tash
boom boom boom tchka tchka dumm bash
dumm bash-bash, dm-bash bash, dm-bish

tchka tchka dumm dumm ting
boom boom tchka tchka dumm bash ting
shik shik shika tika tik tik ting
boom boom tchka shika boom ting bish

boom shika tchka boom bash boom ching
boom, b-dumm dumm tika tika tika ting
boom shika shika boom bish bash beng
tika tika tika dumm boom boom ting

boof.. ka tchka boom boom cha
b-boof boof ka tchka boom boom cha
boom boom ka tchka tchka boom tish
tchka tchka dumm tsk tsk (dubudu) kish

(dubudu) (dubudu) (dubudu) tish
(dubudu) (dubudu) dub dub tesh
(dubudu) (dubudu) (dubudu) tsk tchka dish
dub.. b-dub dub taka tchka ting

dub dub tchka tsk dumm tchka ting
dub dub tchka tsk dumm tchka tash
dub dub tchka tsk dumm tchka ting
dub dub dub, b-dub dub dub mmm
b-dub dub dub, b-dub dub dub mmm
b-dub dub dub, b-dub dub dub mmm
b-dub mmm dub
b-dub mmm dub
only vaguely makes sense when read out aloud.
Clone re Eatery Jan 2015
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
And with those runs he's voiding 'Art'
With an Artiste here
And an Artiste there
Here an Ar-, there a tiste
Everywhere an Artiste
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs

Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
And with those runs he has bad dreams
With a sub par here
And a sub par there
Here a sub, there a par
Everywhere a sub par
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs

Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
And with those runs he's fantasized
With a mediocre here
And a mediocre there
Here a medi-, there an ocre
Everywhere a mediocre
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs

Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
And with those runs he babbles on
With a ******* here
And a ******* there
Here a rub-, there a bish
Everywhere a *******
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs

Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
And with those runs he flushes on
With an Egó here
And an Egó there
Here an Egó, there an Egó
Everywhere an Egó
With an Artiste here
And an Artiste there
Here an Ar-, there a tiste
Everywhere an Artiste
With a sub par here
And a sub par there
Here a sub, there a par
Everywhere a sub par
With a mediocre here
And a mediocre there
Here a medi-, there an ocre
Everywhere a mediocre
With a ******* here
And a ******* there
Here a rub-, there a bish
Everywhere a *******
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
with apologies to Old MacDonald...
Tommy Randell May 2017
Poetry is a self-help group
Poetry is a multi-gender soup
Poetry is a smoothie of feelings
Poetry is a room without ceilings
Poetry is a bish-bash-bosh
Poetry is submitting to the cosh
Poetry is seeing it all through reflection
Poetry is a snapshot of invention
Poetry is Language that kidnaps sound
Poetry is uncertainty where Truth is found
Poetry is
            Do I really think that?
Poetry is a list of righteous facts
Poetry is trite spoken out loud
Poetry is bread passed around
Poetry is drowning in ancient woes
Poetry is sometimes the way life goes
Poetry is no bigger than one person rapping
Poetry is freebase, it is ****, it is fapping
Poetry is an attempt at hurt-healing
Poetry is the heart cart-wheeling
Poetry is
            My scream for attention!
Poetry is that thing not to be mentioned
Poetry is of course an eleven
Poetry is a gun not a weapon
Poetry is what we read for ourselves
Poetry is our dying slowly on shelves
Poetry is legally disenfranchised on walls
Poetry is heard by kicking silence in the *****
Poetry is Life getting revenge
Poetry is Justice with fists unclenched
Poetry is
            Pause for effect …
Poetry is expression unchecked
Poetry is unravelling the thread
Poetry is the road ahead
Poetry is giving away the Gold
Poetry is offered freely not sold
Poetry is a web of connection
Poetry is a manifesto of intention
Poetry is not being alone
Poetry is finally saying Hello
Poetry is

            HELLO POETRY

Tommy Randell 2017 05 16 01:54 BST
Finally Nailed It !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2016
why didn't existentialism every take off in England?
fair enough, the Poles aren't exactly saints, but they'e not
exactly  vermin... one Muslim should have learned
his history better: two naked swords, against the Northern
Crusaders - but, n'ah ah, he didn't, i told you,
never trust an Egyptian with monotheism,
he'll bury the artefacts in a desert for
2000 years... and then we'll
have the cult of Baφoμet and
the prickly skinned crusaders saying:
better the extra-**** and **** than
the headscarf... and they burnt at the stake...
got crackly pork skins with them
as if it was a hoax to remember: that's what really
happened. μι or qui or any softened
carrot: yellow gets van Gogh, blue gets
Picasso... i guess orange gets O'Hara...
it is the age of Baφoμet and the Knights
Templar... you sorta think that
agitation with amateur terror will slow
down the process of coherent and systematic
far-right activities? i swear you shipped those
Syrians into Germany for a revision
of the holocaust... i'm ******* sweating with
anticipation while i swipe left for a
kippah scalping and get a Syria monk
out of it... perhaps a date... but you know...
i'm not that much of a talker...
my mother spent 3 months in 40 degree heat
that kills... the arabs are heating the cauldron up...
soon, you'll be wishing you'd have lived in
Siberia... and i'm not kidding,
global warming is debatable in Iceland, Britain,
and New Zealand... not on any continent
we know of... 40°C... **** the **** old me!
i'm not even wishing for old age...
when this thing we cal an orb and relate
it to only one Grecian element: earth
isn't air... and we call the vest godly Venus
and Mars and Juniper -
well... why bother even thinking
about keeping up-to-date
when nothing we write will be written into
stone? i like the delusion it will be,
blame Chinese employment of youthful
unemployment in countries where beauty
is fixated on tourist vomiting down your wedding aisles,
the existence of european communism
curated the beneficiary of competition
capitalism gagged for like a sad gimp clad
in torched and fetish leather...
but that went, went to the chinese...
or a russian Babushka said: democracy, whaaaa?
ca Ching the Chinaman...
                    n'oh h'oi! thirty thousand
eyelash strokes to a pictured idea per second,
all i have is Mongolian far way, in Kazakhstan:
chum Chou chew - juggling out the dribbles -
                     hey, you're on the verge of
equipping the cinnamon men their potency
to breathe a billion ***** in a square mile...
   of hillbilly... i'll bet you a 100 to 1 and say:
               pucker blow-lobe chips are on the house:
hence the cheesy smile: anthropoid digital tunnelling
        all the way to Palestine, and the new U.N.
                  and that fake thing you have:
no matter how many billion dollars,
it won't equal a single spoon, or hammer.
it's that sort of thing that's meta-metaphysical -
or some other benzene variant prefix -
get smart, live love, hurrah Marquis de Sade!
patron of old age; while your granny said:
lessen the lesion by probing it darling.
       Tokyo tribes? the weirdest film i've ever seen,
the **** aren't even Asia... stop telling me the
sun is too bright... Buddha walked with excess squint...
and he managed it without a tap-tap-boom stick
to mark out 2 square metres...
   happy are those living in a greenhouse,
  surface mirrors, and sea,
but on the continent, they joked that palm trees
would be grown in the Baltic circumference...
hello dodo... but then the amateurs appeared...
   beheading, blowing themselves up,
a library of one... what they have birth to isn't
as spectacular as giving your voice to Cabaret Voltaire...
   they are creating a new breed of khaki stiff-necks -
ostriches and the gargantuan plan of over-easy -
i know the ***** ones, the ones siding with the left,
they think they're political, only in the sense that
their politics is a proton-neutrality,
the idle life... the life worthy of no political involvement...
the easy life...            the life of respected repudiation,
centrist silent populist party name and manifesto
combined: status quo.
     the only generation that might talk of old
age as a zenith, an ultimate goal enshrined in
the furtherance of mankind's potential is the generation
of my grandparents... only my grandparent's generation
can boast about achieving old age...
   which means no artistic profit -
      only my grandparents won the lottery that's lasted
for donkeys' years... my parents haven't,
i haven't... my parent's, and yours, haven won
the mortgage lottery... so communism was a failure
because it was deemed to be a failure
   in the span of not even a trans-generational decade?!
   trans-generational decade?
   me... father, grandfather, great-grandfather,
  great-great-grandfather... etc.
               it was a failure because i inherited a bicycle
that didn't have two wheels... how am i supposed
to join the ******* circus in capitalism on a monocycle?
this ain't ideological warfare... this is 1 billion Chinese
we're talking about... and they're not going anywhere.
but my grandparents are the only success story of
communism reaching its potential -
                  sadly, you ought to know,
i'd rather invest in euthanasia than in retirement plans,
given the fact that most of you, don't even
have a potential to begin with a mortgage.
the reason why existentialism never took off in England,
is because Darwinism got mingled with history,
a timescale crushing next week's Monday -
and gone to hell the whole joy of routine -
routine the parachute, routine the sloth of time -
existentialism in England never took off
because current affairs in life were too problematic
to be thought of as boring: the canape of / for philosophers...
come on, Heidegger: being and beyng? obeying?!
Darwinism sorta of gave history a quantum dynamic:
a scratch of 19th century, a nibble from Hastings...
bish-bash-bosh... 19th of September 2016...
existentialism never took off because of the dichotomy
between the synonyms: life and existence -
as if the two differed so much -
well, the Pope knew how to deal the theological
*****: death and the after-life - same ****,
different cover. where these words ever so despairingly
coupled? life: no mention of: out of every instance,
and existence: out of every instance - rekindled
fetishism of avoiding mortality's river of set-out
change? it looks like it's just that...
                               currency of political correctness
these days?   the grand implosion:
    Ritter Templer und Zeit βaφoμeτ.
Aashutosh Shahi  Oct 2018
I Wish
Aashutosh Shahi Oct 2018
I wish I could fly,
like an eagle in a sky;
I wish I could use a hug,
like a warm coffee in a mug;
I wish I could swim like a fish,
and could also delete one of my bish;
I wish to see everybody clearly,
all those who treated me severely;
I wish to have Newton's mind,
So that I could do something good for mankind;
I wish to have a friend,
Who wont hesitate to share things till the end;
I wish to tell that girl how much I love her,
because I think we are just opposite of concur;
I wish to have a magic door,
So that I could run away whenever I'm abhor ;
I wish to live a peaceful life,
But it is not possible because everyday I have this new strife.
Matalie Niller Jul 2014
you say you love me
then you say I hold you back
you say I'm amazing
then you laugh about how I thought "this" would last
you ignore me until I break
then you hold my hand and say you missed me.
you are more messed up than I ever imagined
and I feel embarrassed for continuously fighting a battle
that you left months ago.
I wish I could be as heartless as you-
just shut my eyes and hold my breath,
try to forget until it all just disappeared-
but I know you.
I remember when you were by my side while I cried
I remember when you told me I could never do anything to make you stop loving me
I remember
when we were just a boy and a girl, so innocent
first meeting
first kiss
first admission of love
I remember
but you want to forget
want to run away from difficult feelings and responsibility
you don't care about how I feel
and I feel an awful lot of awful
as you leave and erase me
I ache and break.
I. Hate. You.

but why can't you just love me like you used to?
Do I Need A Name Apr 2015
today i threw away your first note to me
its been a month since you left
i no longer fear what i will see before i run away in darkness
but rather what i wont see as i
run towards it in the light
every one makes it seem like you can just move on
but have the ones making it seem that way ever been blindly thrown into an ocean of want with weights tied to their ankles?
you were my ******* in human form
every curve a line
every touch a sniff
its hard to hold back the urge of negative actions at the sight or memory of you
but at the same time i fight a war just as major as those actions with the opinion and set expectations of everyone else around me

i wish i could have realized the danger that was to come when i no longer loved you but rather the memories of you

im waiting to restock the empty shelves that align my insides
its been a month since they were filled
even though they were filled with stale expired items
id rather be stocked with useless things than be emptied completely
Brent Kincaid Apr 2017
I used to be lysexic
But I’m betting getter.
I sometimes get letters
All gangled up totether.
I often lose tontrol
Of the taction of my ung
I had this tind of krubble
Sever yince I was sung.

I backed things saidward
It muzz wore than embarrassing.
It got me picked lot upon
Subjected to hate grarrassing.
Sometimes wumbers nould
Lood just like wetters
Back when I was lysdexic
But I am betting getter.

Not just lysdexic am me
But I Spoonerise tum soo.
And unce that sets started
There is lo sittle I can do.
It get’s ard to understand me
And it isses some eeple poff
I really bish I could weegin
To **** to stalk like a toff.

I used to be lysexic
But I’m betting getter.
I sometimes get letters
All gangled up totether.
I often lose tontrol
Of the taction of my ung
I had this kind of rubble
Sever yince I was sung.
(Actually, I am still a bit dyslexic still, but apparently I learned a lot of tricks back when being dyslexic could get you punished and shamed. As I say here, I’m betting getter.)
calm Feb 2018
oh snap.

guess who's back?

I'm one step closer to a heart attack.

these flashbacks drawn from a cutback, turned me into an insomniac,
twas only a matter of time until I had a cardiac

arrest me now, officer. I've done you all wrong.

'cause my heart lying in my breast no longer plays a loving song.

I'd love to play the rest, see who else would try and sing along,
but I best not cause more distress, I know where I belong.

this girl KC.

man, she's killing me.

thoughts grilling me, yeah they drilling me!
this thrilling feeling's chilling me to the core, like it's refilling a sea

that just won't quit. My anchor's heavy as ****.

my head's split a bit, teeth grit cause I'm full of these images of misfits, and culprits
whose crimes I didn't know they could commit-
they're all me- I'll admit I don't have a permit to

park my *** in this waste of mass class.

just mind the sass, my ego's thick as thick glass, and I don't have the strength to be harassed (rn).

hold up

I don't got time for this.

I need help, man, tell me what to do, I'm ******.

this story's this; I miss the abyss in which I could hiss at KC's every bish she brought home,
reminisce that shish in whish I could blissfully talk about french kissing her.

but now I got me a man.

but now she back I've got no game plan.

tell me can you show me again how life is more than her?
I have a bf yet I'd still **** for KC. Wrote this when I was wondering what to do.
*EDIT* when I copied and pasted this from Notebooks it didn't post fully! Full piece is now here.
Creep Nov 2014
-conference room with everyone in it, with a stage and a mike where I stand-
-cough coughs-

Yes, may I have your attention?

-glares at you with a stare to ****-

Mmmhm bish im talkin 'bout you.
Yes, you da ***** sitting up front dere like you own da place.
Well sorry to pop your bubble, but you don't.

-rolls eyes and begins to pace-

You see, you have been convicted of two crimes.
One being leading all these fine gentlemen here on.
Two being dumping their sorry *** for a lame excuse like,
"I'm not ready for a relationship."
"Sorry, it's not you, it's me."
"Umm... I don't like you like that. Friends?"

-all the guy nod in agreement-

Now what I'm saying here,
is if you start kissing up their ***,
laughing and flirting and hanging out with EVERY ******* ***** GUY IN THIS VERY ROOM how do you expect them NOT to like you, with you ***** all shoved in their faces and sitting on their laps and ****?

-looks at you meaningfully-

Don't deny it. You are guilty.
And then, when they go so far to love more your abs and that junk you got their on you chest, to actually love your - next few words dripping with sarcasm- charming, sweet, playful personality that's in fact all an act, you can not just go and break their bountiful hearts in two.

-matter of fact face at you-

Now, you see all these once innocent boys? Look at their sorrow faces, they have experienced you wrath -smile- and have experienced unnecessary hurt.

-pout, and points at a boy in the back-

You see that boy all the way in the back, sulking but yet still staring at you with the longing of a lost puppy? Yeah, that right there is my best friend. You have took his vulnerable scarred heart, took it, grilled it on an open fire (very dangerous, mind you), chewed it to little pieces and inserted your saliva in it, spit it out, and shoved it down his throat.

Again here I am, still another innocent bystander hurt by something you didn't even directly do to me! He hasn't been the same since you. He's changed, molded to fit your shape. When you come around, he wraps his body for you, becomes a ******* to everyone but you, smiles, flirts with just you, ignores everyone else. And when you leave?

-chuckles a menacing and sadistic chuckle, a dead look of terror in my eyes-

He turns into something you've never seen, lies spew out of his mouth like wild fires, spreading to every single ******* tree, all his friends? Still there, 'cause we love him, but he's left us. All he sees, all he wants, everything is about you. Your his world you see and yet you took that world and destroyed it with a meteorite, big enough to compare to the big bang.

-wipes eyes-

Now see us, as we try to control his lashes, to consume our tears back, and to not be hurt. I am dying inside, little by little, by seeing him trying and trying to no use, useless. I love him, I really do, and your basically punching me in the gut every time I see you with him, knowing you are no good for him and only gonna maul his heart like a beast. Just stop with the lame excuses,

-says in a snarky voice- "I'm not ready for a relationship."

'cause you just made out with a guy a week ago, you smear your lipstick all over his face. Dafuq with you mother-******* ****** excuses! and you tell me you hate dem ******. Well you should be hatin' on yourself then.

And here we are, everyone hurtin' through the radiation you have spread. Here's a suggestion: why don't you ******* go take all of your ******* and shove it up your left nostril!?!? EH??? NOW ISN'T THAT A GOOD IDEA? MAYBE YOU WILL FEEL JUST A MINISCULE BIT OF THE PAIN EVERYONE IS FEELING!

-hurls something at you, stomps of stage lividly, and turn around right before i leave-


-throws one finger up, turns around, and walks out-
something new, im just really ******. basically theres this gurl in my grade who practically gathers a herd of devoted boys to her and then ******* breaks each of their hearts one at a time and act all surprise that they like her... and it affects others too. just mad ******... sorry its not a poem and i use a lot a slang and i dont make sense -laughs hoarsely- i should stop yelling imma lose my voice cx
MissNeona Oct 2020
Lala from the N to the S and the E plus some W. Here to slice you off some fruity zest.
aar505n  Jun 2014
The Same Way
aar505n Jun 2014
Everyday I go the same way
I don't sway far from the footpath
Cause I'm afraid to be led astray
I don't need to do the maths
to know I'm not a psychopath in this thinking
but I do have an inkling
that maybe I am sociopath
because I go the same way everyday
just to stay sane.
It's hard to explain
this disdain for anything different
to the stinking mundane that is my life.
I desperately try to sustain it by going out of my way to contain and control everything to obtain order.
So there is nothing new
Everything here the same.
like some sort of lame game
that's to blame because
I'm ashamed to say
that I'm addicted to it.
A convict in my own brain
Beginning ****** battles
Bish! Bash! Bosh!
Trying to be evicted
cause I'm conflicted
I resent being restricted
but I'm twisted
and wouldn't know
what to do if I got out
it's not just mere
bout with self doubt
about being scared
from swaying from the footpaths
No it's not being scared
it's about disappointment
I'm too acquainted
with my own containment
Of the same
that if I was to compare
my way to another
I'd be full of despair
I'm not prepared
to juxtapose anything
But I suppose that's normal
it's not insane thinking.
This inkling I've had is humane,
human nature.
so I proposed that
the only way to change
and end my affliction
is to expose myself to the abnormal
without being so formal.
The simple act stepping outside out of my comfort zone
away from the dull drone
is the start
with a little effort
I can look at life
through my rose-tinted glasses
La vie en rose!
engross with all things new
everything that is composed
of this Earth,
is now worth so much to me
I'm no longer afraid to compare
I loudly and proudly proclaim
that I do not take the same way
sometimes I sway from the mundane
cause I've ordained my self as a free man.
brand new me, who's not scared to see or be or even peruse the new.
This pure philosophy is the cure and is now imbued in my soul.
So on that overdue cue,
I bid you adieu
Spoken Word piece

— The End —