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Dat Boi Mar 2015
Have you ever done nothing wrong
Yet to be punished so severely?
Body of a monster, face of a woman,
It isn't flesh that you wear
But scales, green ones
Hissing is your music
And the sound of an unsheathed sword your funeral dirge
Have you ever
Been Medusa?
  Mar 2015 Dat Boi
Rae Harrison
they met in a crowded place
face after face
he saw her a while away but felt so close
he felt too hot in his jacket
she saw him a little closer, her feet wouldn't stop
even though they've been strained in tall shoes all night
she slurred her words to ask him something like
do I know you
his words meshed together that sounded something like
do you want to?
they had no intention of getting to know each other a little better,
just getting to know each other a little better
he eventually got out of his jacket and she didn't need to wear her high heels anymore
the next morning, she and her tall shoes were gone and he wonders
when will the next one night stand stay?...one night stand... stay one night?
but he always leaves the door open when he leaves too so he cant blame her
i was just watching a movie where two people met and hooked up and I wondered, what if they were perfect for each other but no one knew it? this is a "sort-of" poem about it..
  Mar 2015 Dat Boi
witchy woman
No one loves me
I'm not worth a single drop of blood

It would be wasted
If you spilt it for me

And dry your tears
For I'm the only one that has to cry

This time,
So there's no use shedding them for me

Sometimes, I wish I knew
How to disappear completely

So no one would remember my voice
Have no memories with me

I feel like life
Would merrily move along

If I were just simply
Gone
                     Gone

    Gone.
The titles also a radiohead song. But it doesnt seem like a bad idea. Erase everyones memories of me and just leave. Fall back into the everlong seas of black unconcious and then hopefully to the end of time- the extraterrestrial, super inconcievable meaning of life. I believe we find it when we die. I dont even know, I dont think anyone loves me so its about that time.
Dat Boi Mar 2015
They wear their wealth like a crown
Glittering jewels adorning their kitchen chairs
Red leather velvet resting on the sofas
Pearls dripping in champagne
This lavish mansion is their Kingdom
The money their thrones of precious stones
Their influence their ermine and silk cloths
Their wealth like crowns
  Mar 2015 Dat Boi
J.R.R. Tolkien
All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.
  Mar 2015 Dat Boi
C. S. Lewis
Lead us, Evolution, lead us
Up the future's endless stair;
Chop us, change us, **** us, **** us.
For stagnation is despair:
Groping, guessing, yet progressing,
Lead us nobody knows where.

Wrong or justice, joy or sorrow,
In the present what are they
while there's always jam-tomorrow,
While we tread the onward way?
Never knowing where we're going,
We can never go astray.

To whatever variation
Our posterity may turn
Hairy, squashy, or crustacean,
Bulbous-eyed or square of stern,
Tusked or toothless, mild or ruthless,
Towards that unknown god we yearn.

Ask not if it's god or devil,
Brethren, lest your words imply
Static norms of good and evil
(As in Plato) throned on high;
Such scholastic, inelastic,
Abstract yardsticks we deny.

Far too long have sages vainly
Glossed great Nature's simple text;
He who runs can read it plainly,
'Goodness = what comes next.'
By evolving, Life is solving
All the questions we perplexed.

Oh then! Value means survival-
Value. If our progeny
Spreads and spawns and licks each rival,
That will prove its deity
(Far from pleasant, by our present,
Standards, though it may well be).
  Mar 2015 Dat Boi
William Shakespeare
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her ******* are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks,
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know,
That music hath a far more pleasing sound.
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
    And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
    As any she belied with false compare.
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