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ConnectHook Jul 2020
Whiny Wobert Smiff:
Paleface poser
Bad-hair bard
Of teen existentialism.

Droning three-chord dirges
Wobbly Wobert
About to burst--
Not into flames,
But girlish tears.

Superficial woes
Suburban emo . . .

Wobert, Wobert
Your mascara is running
As fast as it can
Away from the 80s.

I am ashamed
To have seen The Cure
Live in 1983.

It did not cure me.
Well, their first album was OK . . .
(Killing an Arab,
Jumping Someone Else's Train,
Grinding Halt, etc)
Mister J Jan 2018
It seems that I have a disease
Something that I've never seen before
I don't know if its contagious
I just hope I could find a cure

It started a few days ago
I've felt weird out of the blue
I can't eat nor sleep properly
My chest feels heavy and my head light

My heart stings badly
My stomach upside down
My feet frozen in place
Every muscle in rebellion

My mouth feels dry
My lungs out of breath
I can't speak up
No matter how hard I tried

And its all because of you
I don't know what you did to me
Every time you're looking at me
These symptoms suddenly affect me

You're a disease to me
I've never felt this way before
I need to find a cure
And it seems that is also you

No matter how much I avoid it
I just can't shake you off me
You make me nervous as hell
And yet you're a little piece of heaven

I want you for myself
But I hate feeling like this
So would you please come to me
And be the cure to everything I feel?
Third poem for 2018. Hey guys, how're you feeling?
I hope you're all great! :)
Steele Feb 2017
It comes on
and he laughs and you laugh nervously along.
(This song saved your life.)
The radio blares the **** of the latest joke, but songs
aren't allowed to save lives any more so you keep quiet.
Music isn't a cure, and The Cure have been long out of style and
it happened
before anyone had ever heard of Twenty One Pilots anyway and
since long before Rose killed herself with a twenty pill crash diet.
it happened
but he laughs and you laugh nervously along.
Those chords saved your life
But "can you believe we
ever listened
to this song?"

The sunset looks beautiful with the windows rolled down
and you wonder how you ever survived this long, anyway.
Gabriel K Feb 2016
Let me not to the marriage of Katie
Hellkvist and me admit impediments
e.g. her boyfriend it’s complicatey
a smug **** wannabe, irrelevant

to me no he is immaterial
I want you so bad I would roast you *****
you’re a special spirit ethereal
I gotta chubby thinking about it

thy cherry lips and smudged eye make-up like
that Goth guy in The Cure Nick Cave maybe
sturdy face infectious laugh raven eyen
like Whitney truth I Will Always Love thee

If this be false and upon me prov’d
I never Facebook stalked nor ever lov’d
Despite your resignation and sudden departure,
shooting in the direction of Not Me as soon as my lips parted
and those fateful words escaped,

you never left.

The refuge of cool bedsheets in bedclothes on a bed too big for me
houses nightmares and a silent love affair,
neither tangible nor real,
but when the sun peers through the curtains and my REM becomes
remember, I do it; I sit up, kick back damp bedsheets and bedclothes
and let my feet dangle from the heights.

A cantaloupe, a fragrant pollen drenched lilly, ginger beer,
these are my companions in a desolate Whole Foods.
I stroke, smell, drink, relive the ecstasy of my own reveries,
the ones I created before I lay eyes on you,
before, when your name was merely a source of laughter,
like some fat obnoxious cartoon on television,
lovable and detestable in one viewing.

I walk to my car and turn the ignition-- that makes my fetal position
in fifteen minutes
significantly more realistic.

Somewhere between the interstate and the inter state of my mind,
the threads unravel and dissolve,
and the knot that stated not, no, never,
says yes, you **** well can, now, and always.

— The End —