I want to be your abacus baby,Oh you can count on me.
I wont say that i love you, or i heart you, I less than 3 you.
Your molecules must be moving fast,girl. Cause your really hot.
Are you igneous sedimentary or metamorphic? All i know is baby you rock.
And if god existed I'd thank him for you, but I'm rational and read a lot of Sam Harris.
Your beautiful like the font garamad,but i want to see you sandarac, take your pants off.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me,
And i observe your quirks oscillating, and I'm formulating, a g-string theory..
Like an archeologist,I'm gonna try and compute your age. cause i really want to date you.
You make me feel like a male giraffe. I want to nudge your **** and make you urinate,and mate you.
Scientific fact,thats what they do.
The value of my love for you cannot be expressed exactly. More rational then Pi.
Hey "****" is a legitimate word in scrabble, just FYI
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me.
You can **** me into your super massive black hole, the center of your galaxy. Im talkin ******.
I may not be the strongest or the prettiest, but my knowledge of grammar shines.
I know how to use the words  further and farther..correctly. Every fricken time.
Example:farther indicates physical distance
and further a depth or degree
example: the moon is getting farther from the earth
about 4 centimeters annually. Fun factoid,take it home with ya.
You just keep getting further into my heart.
You just keep getting farther into my heart.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me,and if the situation is ambiguous, further and farther can be used interchangeably. Just a fun factoid.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me.
Baby i less than 3 you.
So please take off your pants.

It's that time of the Patriot's year
Postseason playoff games are in full gear
The road to the Superbowl, I cheer
But not for the big, bad grissly bear
That takes every opponent's fate without fear
That's right the big bad bear without peer
I'm snickering the Patriot's to cry a tear
Nothing would make me so happier, I swear
Fricken, dicken, bitchen Patriots beware
To see another Bostonian tea party, I glare
I do show respect at the Patriot's lair
Brady and Belicheck what a podded pair
Steady, stoic and simulcast, condescending I declare
You see a Patriots playoff loss is so rare
Their team profile is beyond compare
A well oiled machine that wear
Goliath close over David with regular fare
The road to this year's Superbowl Sunday, I say a prayer
That the other teams flag is flying patriotically in the air

Logan Robertson

1/11/2019

Tell me.
Tell me what amazing thing I'm doing right now.
I'm going through the fricken motions of next to every 16 year old girl.
I have done nothing spectacular.
I haven't changed anything.
Had I not been born others' lives would be minimally altered.
Why am I not doing anything?
Nothing. I'm doing nothing for anyone or anything.
I'm making no impression and that makes me angry.

You did inquire why all of my poetry is depressing, or morbid... or sarcastic.

I wish I was ~positively~ poetic, but my positive feelings channeled through prose!
I have some neat journal pages... inspiring or thoughtful
-I guess...

But when I look back at the days of pages I wrote in my paranoia or depression.. spite... it's just really horrible! It don't like remembering how sick I  got myself over things. And I've always admired poetry.. and I remember the first poems I read from you were more morbid and dark. So I followed suit.... and I like looking back at these poems, more artfully worded and less angst ridden... much more than those journal pages.

I have been inspired to write more light hearted poems that are NOT sarcastic, but those are all drafts and I just don't know how to do about things and they just sit there and never get finished. No, those poems about friends leaving me behind, school being really fricken freezing, and mom sounded like a raspy parrot are the only ones that seem to get finished.

I'll work on putting something light together for you... rather or not it gets finished it up in the air though haha. I love you a lot!

xoxo

Nothing is certain anymore.
I used to know: I miss knowing.
I had decided he was the one.
Forever. For ever. Everlong. Everlast.
But it wasn’t everlasting.
And now?
I’ve lost the partner to my dream.

Begin again. Start once more. All over.
New introductions: new dynamics
It’s all different.
Unsettling.
Exciting – I’m thrown off balance.
Soo much to learn.
What’s beneath the ripply surface?
Open up, prise to sunlight; I must see.
Figure: are you the new ‘one’?

A replacement?
A new dream. A new adventure.
A thousand ways to see the world.
Perspective dominates so much.
I think we come from similar mind
- But unless you speak I cannot be certain.
“What’re you thinking?”
“Mmm… I don’t know”
It’s a gap
Between thought and mouth
- I’ve been there, I’ve felt it.
We need to build a bridge.

‘Put your trust in me, I’m not gonna die alone’
I don’t want to. Not alone.
I need someone to accompany me.
I want a family.
Who?
It feels like time to settle in.
Who?
I’m tired of this game
This uncertainty
Either let me be alone
- Impossible for me, I know:
I ***** too much up when I’m single.
Yet there should be growth there.
- Then let me be with the one.

I know there is no perfection.
But imperfections may compliment.
I know it takes work.
Communication.
Sacrifice.
Energy.
Time.
I know difference must be respected.
I know connection is of most importance
- Or perhaps a close second to support.
And love.

But love grows.
Even arranged marriages fall into love.
Why not choose?
The one with the traits
The dynamic that is desired
Love will come
It always does in the end
So long as resentment does not dominate
The dynamic is soo important!
And the lifestyle
- What am I willing to give up?
What does he desire?  

I’m over this dizzying romance game.
I’m throwing the towel in.
If not him, then someone else close by.
Because I’ve always had too many options.
And before that made me scared:
Given urge to ‘play the field’
Taste all within range.

Now, now, I am tired.
It’s nice to know someone’s intimacy
Exploring beneath the cloak:
Let me in, let me in, let me in.
I know it takes time
Let me in, let me in, let me in.
But trust me. Please?
Let me in, let me in, let me in.
Coz ******! I’m letting you in.
And ******! I want to show you my world.
And to see yours.
And when we escape this place,
Maybe just for a day or two,
But when we do,
It’s fricken beautiful
And we’re beautiful
And I know that.

Please. I want to fall into love.
Why not with him?

This is not a rhyme
this is not a poem
there is no hidden messages between ambiguous word
or conveyed through complex metaphors
this is the tears of my heart
bleeding
fuelling me
so that I can find the courage to speak
to speak the words of my soul
the words I've been dying to say
... no
to scream!!!
The words I've been dying to shout out
as a proclamation to the whole world...

I DON'T LOVE YOU
I DON'T because I don't know what love is
but I do know you make me wonder
you make me philosophize about it
about what it feels like
I DON'T know what love is...
but you make me feel
something that must be close to it
...
if not better

I think about you ALL the time...
there is not a moment that passes where I don't think of you...
not a single message from you at which I don't smile
not a single night where I hate the dawn of sleep, because it means goodbye
ALL OF MY FRICKEN POEMS ARE ABOUT YOU

last night when you were here...
in the three seconds that we kissed
in those mere blinks of an eye
when our lips softly brushed
... I was paralysed
... It was the first time in my life where my mind was COMPLETELY quiet
the first time I didn't instruct myself through a kiss
and just let go...

now your scent is stuck to me...
I smell it all the time
the smell is intoxicating
and I think of you with every breath I take
unwillingly falling further and further into your arms...

and so I call you...
just to hear your voice...
just to hear you laugh at what I say...
because hearing your voice makes my day...
the sound of your laughter...
it's a toe curling
goosebump-giving
heart-wrenching
pulse-rising
start-smiling
start-crying
but never nail baiting...
because I know you hate that
... sort of sound.

and I envy the guy who is lucky enough to have you
I envy him with all my heart.
I have a bitterness towards him compared by only few...
and a sadness towards you compared to no other greatness...

why can't you see
that his love for you is not...
nor will it ever be...
the same as my NOT-LOVE for you

can't you see he doesn't give you the romance and the happiness you deserve
the laughter and the acceptance and the complete free will...

can't you see that I adore you
... so much so that I have turned into this monster who envies...
one who feels bitter towards someone he has never met!!!

I am lost without you...
I want you...
I need you...
I want to need you...
I Better-than-love you
I xoxo you and mwa you
forever and continuous
(not-)love (- but better)
me...

I can't dream if it's from this closet
Every thing I want to do just sounds so ******* pompous
I talk about what I want to do and everybody thinks I've lost it
I'm on the radar, but I'm the darkest blip
Walking the plank on purpose, S.S. *******, I'm off this ship

I feel like I've finally got it, and of course then I've lost it
I write a masterpiece, "hey where's the follow up?"
Like me and my girl jinxin the future with a prenup
'Oh you know we just trying to be safe,' right *****, let's marry up this **** then
You can take it all just split them assets
Get me bent with no price or rent

See I ain't tryna get around just tryna win this
Can't seem to get to the top when I'm the only one in the bracket
Try to be a team player, but my teams full of *******
I'm Harry Potter *****, imma smash that *** like quidditch
I gonna hit that pinata, till the cash flow get me riches

I talk ***** but I miss the way you talk
British, you a fit birdy, girl
I eat my grits, but I ain't really eating till after we're flirty, girl

Take you to the back room, pour some wine and then some feelings, watch some mad men and tell you bout my last girl
I said I like the way you talk to me but I think I just like how I can talk to you
You're an outlet, and I'm plugging, your sticking around, but you should know I'm just thuggin
And maybe I just say the ***** things I say to mask my potential under promiscuity cause I got a real problem promising myself I'll solve my problems too
(I'd never admit it though)

See that's just something me and my crew do
I guess it masks all the little ***** blues 'fake cries'
During this poem I think I grew three inches for you  
In my heart
See it's so easy to gravitate to you like your the sun and I'm Mercury, I'm too close and you're burning me alive, but I can't pull myself apart, girl it'll never work
We can't stop Miley, that's melancholy for sure (but keep the twerk)

You make me feel like Frank Sinatra, and I can't even sing
So **** confident, you let me discover myself, I'm deep, I can feel, I'm Mike Tyson, Kung Pao chicken, I bring it all to the ring
All these little kids on the streets learning how to *** from me 'like fricken'
The thought of you got me sick to the stomach, it's sticking
..
Too bad you're just a ******* fling

This morning I told myself,
I will write a poem today,
But I ended up just hanging out,
With my friend named procrastinate.

8:30am
I was awakened,
Rolled over and saw my notes,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

10:00am
Lounging around,
It’s my lazy day,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

11:30am
Just finished showering,
Poetic thoughts ran through my mind,
While the water ran through my hair,
But now that I’m out,
I’m busy,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

12:30pm
My dad made me listen,
To a sermon with him,
I almost wanted to write a poem,
But I was preoccupied with Dr. Thompson,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

1:45pm
Money feels good in my hands,
But first I gotta do all this addition,
Time cards ****,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

3:00pm
I haven’t eaten anything today,
I’m starving,
Maybe because my refrigerator is empty,
I haven’t gone shopping in four weeks,
I should pay the grocery store a visit,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

5:45pm
Tacos sound good,
I have no clue how to make them,
But I guess I’ll give it a shot,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

6:45pm
Dang, that tasted awesome,
I should probably make something
Gross so I don’t let these cooking skills
Get to my head,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

7:00pm
It feels so good to sit down,
My new favorite show, Falling skies,
Is awaiting me on amazon prime,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

11:00pm
Four episodes in,
I’m officially addicted,
But I’ll let my brother use the TV now,
While I pass out on the couch,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

11:15pm
Crap…
I was gonna write a poem today,
What the heck am I supposed to write about?
Nothing serious is on my mind,
Depression, abuse, peace and war?
The only peace I’m thinking about is sleep,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

11:17pm
I guess I’ll let my eyes open,
It might be time to write a poem,
Not sure what to write about,
I could write about writing a poem or whatever,
Poetry,
Yeah, maybe now.

11:30pm
I’m done,
Here’s your fricken poem, Matthew,
Can I go to bed now?

THE SUN USE TO BURN BRIGHT
SEEPING IN ITS GLORIOUS LIGHT
SHINING ALL DAY LONG
HUMMING IT'S BEAUTIFUL MORNING SONG

BUT THEN ONE DAY
THE SUN DECIDED TO STAY AWAY
THE DARK AND GLOOM
FILLING THE NOW EMPTY ROOM

MY SADNESS SHOWED UP THEN
AND CONTINUING TO COME BACK AGAIN
I MISSED MY SUN
WISHING FOR HAPPINESS OR FUN

MY HEART WHEN SAD
AND NOW I FEEL REALLY FRICKEN' BAD...

Born to death, left in dread, not knowing if I'm alive or dead. Born with no bed to call my home, I was too busy struggling for my life in the ER room. That was just my beginnings, death wanted me bad, but don't worry I make it through it knowing life won't all be full of dread. Grew up with parents not being together, getting bullied at school, sometimes I just wish I got buried in some tomb. I used to look at life so positively, but with so much crap coming at me, Doctor Phil could easily write my own biography. Then junior high came, and that was a whole other thing entirely.  Man, I wish kids could just get home schooled those years, because then I may not have needed that psychiatry. Then finally high school came and prepared to my past experiences was so heavenly. Before school was like the hunger games, survival of the fittest was my only option. Sometimes I still find myself in survival mode, I'm scared that if I say do something wrong the past will strike back at me. So I just stay quiet like a monk, but **** me off I turn into the hulk or some volcano eruption. Wondering why life ******* me over, why people have to be cruel, finding out it doesn't get better as I get older, just wanting to finally be me in this supposed " land of the free." What I’ve realized is; that this country is a monotonous hellhole, home of people who pretend to be nice, because as it's all about our image. This is reality so I’ll just pretend that everything is right with the world, not looking at all the problems and crap not who I am supposed to be; which is me? I'm sorry that ain't me, I’m just so fricken tired of being herded by society like I'm some moronic sheep; conquered by the white privileged. Well baa baa black, brown, yellow, and red sheep have you any wool? No sir no sir it was all taken by the white sheep, why don't you ask them for some? Reality is the whites control everything no one can touch them without paying with your life, hope this truth open the eyes of those who are non-visual because it’s time to stop acting like ignorant fools. We need true equality, we need true freedom, we need change otherwise we stay oblivious to facts which is dumb, which we need to stay away from! This world is full off suppressive segregation, everything must be taken, ignore the horrifying facts of the past but rather let’s look towards the future. Well I would like to but the fact is we can’t because there will always be racism and violence, it’s has been put into our genetic tract since the beginning of time. Since we ate that forbidden fruit, since Kane killed his brother Abel, ******* to this barbaric nature to engrain it’s disease into our brains like a tumor. I guess it’s just human nature to be horrible killers looking for anything that can fill us for some sort of enjoyment like some kind of disturbing nursery rhyme.