Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
George Krokos Jun 2018
No one should try and bite off more than what they can ever chew
because they’ll get themselves into difficulties if and when they do.
Everybody usually tries to get by with what they each can score
but sometimes their greed backfires on them if they go for more.
_____
From "The Quatrains" ongoing writings since the early '90's
Poetic T Jun 2018
I never bite my nails,
the taste is just not for me.
I see others chew on pinkies
and much to my disgust
        they chop on them between
                                      their teeth.

Do you know where they
                          have been,
do you know you didn't
                  wash your hands
Now your biting the tips.

I noticed that those who chew,
have stubby fingers
                           looking grossly.
Use a pair of scissors manicure
                                appropriately.

Please don't bite your nails,
              then spit them out near me.
Its not the wild west there isn't
       spit buckets to collect rejected
                                      nail clippings.

Paint them,
                trim them,
manicure them properly.
but please don't chew them,  
its unhygienic and is so unsanitary.
Mystic Ink Plus May 2018
They said
I already ate

I have not chewed
Neither felt any taste

Do I really ate?

Probably I have forgotten
Or
lost the taste.
Genre: Clinical Abstract
(alternately known as the Doubting Thomas Crown
Taj Mahal Cupid Affair)
-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -   -  -  -

Fortunate (for me) thee bona fide "FAKE" Cupid
(aka Decoy Donald Duck
and side kickstarter Jay Rad,
colluded donning one alias,
which (former and latter)

amounted tube bing disguised incognito
as the cingular "Ivan Ha Bea Robber Baron),"
while same above placed
their System Of A Down on high alert
whereby, they unwittingly, fortunately,
and accidentally discerned disquieting "noise"

i.e. static electronic crackling
purportedly from nemesis, asper sans above
whereby broadcasters colluded
confusingly, congruously, and convincingly
as thee infamous digital (duplicity)
faux "Big Mac" Trump.

The chalkboard scratching, hair sprayed bouffant,
and knuckle crackling
appeared tubby the handiwork cleverly disguised
(as tinpot dictator antics of Moscow's version,

sans Putin on the ritz),
which decrypted garble (a fluke) as iterated above
strongly emanating via polygamous,
prestigious, and pseudonymous
pull no punches ploy

innocently convincing feigned
duo code named "Ashley Madison and Bert"
disclosing (when uncovered),
a heartless conspiracy in concert

with Sesame Street studded lesser known Muppets
pretending tubby oil tycoon Bedouins
intent to fleece "sensitive"
top secret military defense contracts,

which Russian motley crue ace double agents
intended this act of espionage thence sabotage
feted as a Black Sabbath Lupercalia feint
not for the faint hearted clubby fete

where Cupid given free rule of the roost
allowing, enabling and proffering
Cyrillic chattering Cherubim

hook cooked United States "figurative goose"
lock, stock and barrel, which stratagem
captured president unawares
and did significantly boost

Eastern Bloc reconnaissance (on par
with the Philadelphia Eagles
winning 2018 Super Bowl LII
which surprise clenching championship
wrought frenzied hoopla, gala, and bacchanalia
where barenaked ladies

cavorted nsync with beastie boys,
whence City of Brotherly love hoopla found
nearly every man, woman and child ******
(analogous to each person garnering
an early Sainted Patrick's *** of gold.
The Napkin Poet Jan 2017
I still look for her in you.
You told me you could dig blue,
I said, "I dig you."
We shouted "Boo!" and "Happy Holidays" too.

But somehow I felt she was still in my queue.
What a picture for myself I drew,
Always focusing on the morning dew.
Labeling my fantasies as true,

Still figuring out how to shake her glue.
You were new, so I thought I’d be able to see you through.
Kelly Hogan Nov 2016
You chewed me up
And spit me out
Like a piece of stale gum.

Then you stepped on me
So you could drag me around
A bit longer.
*****.
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
With the reception I'm getting from you
I might as well be in Timbuktu
It's a growing feeling of deja vu

All my words you misconstrue
I tried to explain till in the face I'm peacock blue
One of these days your gonna get whats due

And life, on you is gonna chew
And spit you out like rancid stew
Then maybe you will feel bad for what you do

Treating me like a pair of old tennis shoes
Walking on me until your through
An apology is overdue
Don't give me that look you know it's true

With you every thing is a hullabaloo
I think I'll find someone new
With them I'll move to Kallamazo
There my life you can't askew
Rockie Sep 2015
Chew that gum,
Flick that wrist,
And be that bratty little princess,
That nobody wants to kiss,
Oh, Prince Charming?
He's hoppin' on his horse,
Riding to the sunset,
To get away from you,
So shut your face,
Chew your gum,
And be a ******* diva,
Wearing that ******* crown.
Next page