Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Arcassin B May 2017
By Arcassin Burnham

...And still today I'm sitting in my own personal
Hell awaiting your touch blazed in a firey mist of
******* of my list of mistakes that I've dealt with
Cause life's what I made it out to be, turning the
Other cheek to every situation that follows me,
Reflecting the doubts and opinions that creep with
Ease,
I see beauty in every direction and corner that forms
A sense of freedom for all of us to share running
Through the trees,

/

The witches brew running all over your skin,
Mixing up the potion just to settle world's end,
I wish we could have made it a lot better then,
We're at ground zero and there's really no defense.
©abpoetry2017
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2017/05/wings-awakening-official.html
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
Our future would be nicer
If he wasn't such a liar
At least could play the role
And be less politician
And less a bad magician
If he only had a soul.

He’s drunk with his power
Which is growing by the hour
He’s really on a roll.
He believes he is king
And we don’t mean a thing
Because he has no soul.

He has voters he can step on
Now we’ve given him a weapon
It was obvious in the polls
So many to ****
Destroying them at will
Like a creature with no soul.

Now his approval is sagging
His supporters are gagging
As they try swallowing him whole.
He’s sure none can top him
And no one can stop him
Because he has no soul.

He won’t be satisfied
’Till all Democrats have died
Or get by shoveling coal.
We’d appeal to his heart
If he had one at the start
And if he only had a soul.
Sing along, folks. You know the tune, you just never knew the words until I re-wrote them. Modernized, as it were.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
Have you  ever met someone
So odious and evil you cringed?
Someone who was so obviously
From Hell they looked singed?
A person so awful to be around
You badly wanted to move away
So you would not accidentally
Hear a word they had to say?

Someone who, by showing up
Could make a bright day dim?
A person who could *** you out
Without a word from them?
A slimy kind of crap machine
That filled your heart with dread;
So much you feared to hear
A single word they said?

The kind of creep you tried hard
To avoid glancing their way;
To hear their views on anything
Could solidly *** your day.
For years you suspected they
Had no parenting much at all.
A decent parent would have taught
Them better when they were was small.

Sadly though, not watching him
And avoiding the ugly sight
Was not the way that was the best,
It didn’t work out so right.
Thinking he was so obvious
That no body would ever trust
Laissez faire might have worked
Close, but really only just.

Because snakes like that kind
Sneak around and pass out bribes
And play the game of devils
That King James describes.
They rise to the top of criminals
Who have morals just like them;
That is to say no morals at alll
Just greed, lust and whim.
Alan S Bailey Dec 2016
She sits upon her royal chair,
eating a donut, drinking coffee, smoking a plume
smoke rising like a phantom menace in the air.

She calls upon her royal friends she sees,
the batting false eyelashes to a perfect stranger
asking the "gentleman" only for his "hand" by all means.

She drives in her royal chariot,
A red and orange one, flaming stripes at the sides, singing
Songs about the battles and triumphs of wartime's "great" merit.

One day this lovely newborn bird will fly the coop,
the child I know by rights was a born queen! She'll
win first in pageants and then we'll drink to soul's soup.
ky Dec 2016
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect face
You look like an angel
I just feel so out of place

Your laugh is like music
Your voice like a song
I stand and look at you
And I know I don't belong

You're so special
And I'm a creep
Everybody wants you
But nobody wants me

I wish I was special
But I'm just a creep
everybody wants you
They don't give a ****
About me
Brent Kincaid Nov 2016
How do you sleep at night
All the stuff you did ain’t right
You cheated and you lied
It’s known about far and wide
Every day more comes to light.

How do you hold up your head
You should be ashamed instead
You’re the cause of many quarrels
You have few detectable morals.
Your honesty balance is in the red.

We all know all we get from you
Is promises that won’t come true,
You don’t care about any one else
All the matters to you is yourself.
You’re outrageous trash in all you do.

So how do you live with yourself
As Santa Claus’s very nastiest elf?
Every rule you choose to break
Is based on whatever you can take
Regardless of hurting someone else.

Wishing you bad usually isn’t cool
But in your case I’ll break that rule
Since you so often serve up hate
What you deserve is that same rate.
I’m polite, but I am nobody’s fool.

So, I hope you get exactly what
The people you have cheated got
That you end up with just a stone
And spend your time all alone
With your hopes and dreams all shot.
Brent Kincaid Oct 2016
Almost all my most popular poems
Are the ones kicking Trump’s fat ***.
I know after November sixth for sure
This particular issue will lose gas.
While that will slow me down for sure,
It won’t make me loathe him less.
He’s a charlatan, a liar and a ****,
In almost every way a total mess.

Donnie, Donnie
You are such a creep!
Only fools would elect you;
Good people would lose sleep.
It simply doesn’t make sense
They don’t know what they’re doing.
A Trump-like presidency
Would bring this world to ruin.

So I will have to maunder around a bit
To find a juicier source of poetic satire
Than the Big Cheetoh has often been.
He’d open his mouth and spew hellfire.
He frothed and threatened and whined,
And for the most part the scorching
Ended up being his own big ****.
And never was an *** more deserving.

Donnie, Donnie
You are such a creep!
Only fools would elect you;
Good people would lose sleep.
It simply doesn’t make sense
They don’t know what they’re doing.
A Trump-like presidency
Would bring this world to ruin.

He’s arrogant and babbles lies
One of the nastiest people ever seen.
He only seems to make sure his face
Shows in photographs in magazines.
He has little understanding of the job
He thinks he wants to be chosen for.
He expects everyone to bow and scrape,
To compliment, effuse and to adore.

Donnie, Donnie
You are such a creep!
Only fools would elect you;
Good people would lose sleep.
It simply doesn’t make sense
They don’t know what they’re doing.
A Trump-like presidency
Would bring this world to ruin.
Brent Kincaid Oct 2016
He was a sad sort of man
And we let him exist
On the corner of our consciousness.
ignoring all his nastiness
And jokes calling women broads
And how he wanted to ******
And pinch them and stare
At them when they were naked.
We giggled at his ugliness
And displays of tacky wealth
And how he has so little
Of anything called class.

We called him an ***
And wrote him off in the seventies
As a silly arriviste fool
Who played around in school
And dodged the draft.
He was a joke fore and aft
But we underestimated
The danger of a snake
Slithering in the silence.
It can bite us just because
We were not looking at it.
And it is no help to ignore it.
No matter the excuses we make.
It is still a slithering snake.

We forgot to take into account
That some people like snakes
And take them as pets
Despite all the epithets
Of their neighbors and family.
They do so happily
Because there is something wrong
With people who handle snakes
And they usually shout about Jesus
Which I am sure he would hate.
But no problem, it seems of late
To them, Jesus was a bigot, a hater.
They must have read later
Some Bible we never saw
With a different set of laws
And advice. Really not nice.
Brent Kincaid Oct 2016
He lives in a world
Of never and always
Even though there is
No such land.
You could explain
All the facts to him
But he would fail to
Grasp them or understand.

It’s all about opinion
And how he feels
And the way he thinks
About what he sees.
Nothing fazes him
Nothing teaches him
And no hint of reality
Brings him to his knees.

He only cares about
What he wants to have
Or what he wants
To make you believe.
He doesn’t love anyone
He hates almost everyone
He only gets upset
But he never grieves.

He looks into the mirror
And only sees himself
Because in his universe
There is nobody else.
You are just something
That is here to be used.
If he badly wants to do it
He is allowed to abuse.

After all, sun and moon
Revolve, rise and set on him.
In his solar system one star shines
Everything else is very dim.
Since he is rich, and can afford it
He keeps paid companions close.
He can stand free thinkers
Only by the miniature dose.
Next page