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Toast Ghost Oct 10
the pope asked me what i really belived in, behind the lies and masks and the effect of saten.
you know what i told him?
wanna know what i said on that dry summer evenin?
i said that my holy book is read by the perfact way your hair looks messy when you just get out of bed,
when you call me late at night because our songs stuck inside your head.
i worship the way you always say that i know just what you think,
ill pray to the way your voice goes low as hell when you talk about true love.
the way your eyes make stars appear in all that dreary darkness of...all the rhods we take and lines we cross just to hold echother near. and at the end of this congregation i promise ill see you soon my dear.
you give new colors to every flower. evey lemon, every tree. and the colors sparkle only when i hold you close to me,
on the red platos of navajo, honey bees makeing a song so much better than the radio, your voice the lead singer and my spirit feels the flow.
so yeah i know its a little bit melo-dramadic, a bit manic, co dependent on the way you look at me, whatever you see thats just what i wanna be. babe.
and so my soul is saved with every touch from you.
preach in the pew about all the times we had at midnight solitary dances running from our taxes living life and death theres nothin left
but all that holy love we share.

so i told the prest the, minister the bishop and the father and the son and evry single holy ghost who was there, that im in love with this girl and i dont give a ****, what you think force me to drink that holy water to set me on that straigh and narrow bath, and i would laugh at all the **** that they belive will work on somone such as me.
and THATS how i got excommunicated
thankyou
oh my god, ANOTHER poem that makes no sense? bro lit!!
b e mccomb Jul 27
i try not to
get my hopes up
too often
it’s never as good
as i convince myself
it will be

but i let myself
believe in this one
in the back of my mind
the beach

a week off work
ocean waves
hot sand
fresh fish
his birthday
where reality can’t find me

in 2019 it seemed like
a great plan
enter 2020
with it’s 99
problems but
a beach ain’t one

and so now another
year will go by
and i won’t get a chance
to leave this
humid lakelocked town
that will soon cool down
with drizzling rains and
thick white snow

people have lost
their jobs
their lives
and their sanity

and i’m doing
all right
untouched by
disaster and
richer from
overtime

so i should be
grateful
but i’m mostly just
over it

the long hours and
late nights and
going going going
busy bee

but i guess no
beaches for
*******
like me
copyright 7/23/20 by b. e. mccomb
Place for a cry
Pretentious love
Young love articulating itself
Mostly teens having disorders and inadequacy
Heartbroken subordinates
Finding their peace in mythic love narratives
And thats not for me to judge
But as one sassed mouth boy said
"If you listen to katy perry's lyrics for wisdom , then **** yourself "
Has it became an escape for you ?
Maybe just a brief time for deep contemplation
Having hope in sprinkles
Whatever helps i guess.....
Another kind of a drug i guess.....
I hate that one has to add hashtags at last of their poetry
very very formal and pretentious
Khadro Jama Jun 2019
Don't think I'll be the same person forever
don't think for a second
that your sweet full of BS words mean anything to me
every wrong turn you've taken
every disrespectful word you've ever spoken
I lose 50% of why I should even stick around
keep stacking up them points for ***** Bye!
why should I care about selfish *******
I miss being solo!
I thought that having friends meant shyt
Nah! instead we just a bunch of people constantly bringing each other down  in disguise " Trying to be helpful"
***** you just waiting for that day I fall on my knees
Can't trust No One by thy self at the end of the day.
seasons be changing
Never the same.
Rizna M Rameez Oct 2018
You chose to mess with
The WRONG GIRL
11.10.2018
Yenson Aug 2018
How can my eyes hunger for tormentors bodies
where in my soul can I find desires for sadists
Eves threw on fitted coats of Marquis de Sade
borrowed his manuals and added even more pages
pierced the heart of a Dove defending his nest with lethal pins
And in joyous indignities with devilment aplomp
they reclined and crackled in wanton doltishness
He thinks of and desires us and wants to make amor with us

How can a heart marinated in love truely sincere
a soul ready to die rather than any harm to Eves
Be mother or sister or perchance even a stranger
alas in utter ******* and grotesque situation dire
Come undone with healthy pristine heart ripped to pieces
hung drawn and quartered and sliced in tiny morsels
Like fish baits for mice and minnows or hens clucking
All at the hands of Sirens who worshipped in Satan's cravens

How can a soul with only the spark of Salvation aglow
where it once housed his heart and enduring humanity
With brimful joy and devotions in fitting measures true
as all Eves where to him nowt but sisters and earth angels
Now his burning blood runs cold like rivelets in the Arctic
their words ring hollow and smiles shows rapiers of snakes
Nothing stirs desires for all Eves now seem and look like wicked corpses
Delilahs' wrecking vengeance on Samsons in wickedness supreme


Copyright@LaurenceA23Aug2018.All rights reserved
( Oh..please give over and go ply your delusions somewhere else, says I )
Dylan Wheatley Jun 2018
Take your bucket
Shiny and new,
Over to the spicket.
Now,
Try and turn it on,
Get all the water
You can
Sometimes,
It’s going to be
A nice stream
Other times
Drops,
If anything.
Now,
Don’t be alarmed
We’ve all been there.
Now,
Sometimes,
You can’t bring yourself
To carry the bucket
So take a rag,
Wet it all you’re willing
Back to the bucket
Squeeze in what you can
Rinse
Repeat
Until
Satisfaction.
Sometimes,
There will be too much water
All at once
The bucket
Will fill
Will overflow
Will spill.

Take a breath,
In
Out
Take a step back
Reclaim
The situation
Make the bucket
Yours again.
It’s only a bucket afterall
Right?

My advice?
Don’t show off
The bucket
It’s yours
Only yours
And no one else cares.

What they care about?
How you use the bucket.
To nourish
Or
To horde.
bird Jun 2018
here to pray
here to remember days
who sought after peace in pain
what happened in a field of spiderweb croquet
when i was eating my words in company
where my own truth shines, gleaning
why only here, mind met meaning

return to who you are, as expression in essence
is a truth that nobody can ascertain
i forgot how much i enjoyed writing
Joe Momma May 2018
All I do is get money

HYPE HYPE HYPE

All I do is **** *******

HYPE HYPE HYPE

All I do is grind till 5 am

HYPE HYPE HYPE

I’ll never find true love.

HYPE HYPE HYPE
but

yeah
all
you
*******




let me give your mind
something you can relate to

stupid freaks
****
my
word

promise me this
you
stupid
notches
watch my
mothers
birthmark
you
stupid *******



notch your mind
with
my
word
?


















...
..
.
done bred
pit-bull
...
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