#creep
It takes a special kind of ****
To walk into a congregation,
And cause everyone to run.
To talk to children
As if they're something to be won.
When you're an adult,
Who hasn't grown up.
It isn't funny,
It isn't cute,
It's disgusting,
It makes me want to puke.
That people like you,
Are even true,
As you dilute the bunch.
Usually, I turn the other cheek,
My heart often tells me,
It's not worth the effort nor the pain.
But you've crossed the line,
Onto the land I love,
So, I'll take my torches and follow the rest.
Not out of malice, nor of contempt,
But of righteous indignation,
For, I believe,
That some people should be burned,
The true demons that walk among us,
The ones we struggle to see.
My heart goes out to those who've been harassed,
Who've seen things they can't unsee.
I believe that justice will be served,
If not on Earth, in Eternity.
Part of me wonders how things such as this can be real,
But here's the deal:
It takes a special kind of ****
**** that the cockroaches won't bother to touch,
To turn something beautiful and sacred,
Into something murky and corrupt.
Apr 7
Apr 7, 2026 at 4:40 PM UTC
"Tell me how far you will go if you really want to keep me close.” The lyric sounds present yet absent, too familiar to pay attention to, though it hints me on our unspoken accord. “I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I will never let you go.” As a result it can't advance, it can't take the upper hand. I'm euphoric with that firm embrace though i never ever shared it with anyone else. Without a lucid expression to each other we know that, if we chose to, we could venture into something reckless, even pointless. “Feeling close but we are faraway, farther than we think we are.”
As the cabin fell languish, I found my sentience more lucid than expected. Is the caffeine reining in the back, out of all cases as the most eminent one? It’s way better than the impasse of drowsiness anyway. The interstice of the window shut down glimmers. Amorphous sense of prelude. I’m stunned with and at peace with the pace my two neighbors and I created. At the moment while their breath calmed arms staggered in their dreams, I hope I am too. “There’s monster in my dreams, I should fight’em but I let them in. It’s killing me slowly.”
The nightmare creeped as the plane is declining height. As the air pressure changed, my ears didn’t feel well. All the machinery rumble made a soundscape in and of itself. “Meet me in the middle of night and let me hear you say everything’s okay.” I shut out the world to open up thoughts, to let the inner universe take over. At my inward presence and complete distance came the greatest moment that transcends all language. To compose poetry is not to utter but to listen, so does anthropology.
The astonishing sunset awaits us, no matter the exact time, as long as we dove down high from above and saw through at the right time. The New York City leaned, boosting its colonies of glow that stood in the night. I threw my sight from the window. What's happened there? Whose light is it? Whom is it lit for? I wonder, and I can’t see it clear. But the depth index is too big to see it clear; the blur blurs. Physically and figuratively.
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 2:22 PM UTC
in lagoon the lotus ruffles her wind.
in monotone the lizard shrills his song.
the wild goose homing,
slumbered rushes oozing.
hushed lie the sedges
of beamed nuvole, vapors creep
late cranes, heavy wing, and lazy flight.
Sail the silence beneath the nearing night.
Sep 26, 2025
Sep 26, 2025 at 11:30 AM UTC
Tired of fighting
I just want to get along
I'm sorry that I joke around with you
That's the only way I know how to cope
I'm sorry that I'm too weird
I'm such a ******* creep
I'm sorry that I threaten to touch you everyday
I'm sorry that I touch your thighs everyday
I should change myself
I'm too stupid to notice that's clearly SA
I'm probably too used to it
I probably thought it was normal from all the groping
I know how it feels
Yet I keep doing it
I can't change myself
I can't handle it
Slap me across the face and tell me to be quiet
Go on
Please
It'll help me
Go as hard as you can
Leave red marks on my cheeks
Allow it to bruise
I'll do this for you
Apr 28, 2025
Apr 28, 2025 at 10:49 PM UTC
same old black t shirt,
first day of school ID.
buzzed hair starting to grow in,
glimmering from lamination.
slinking slouching sliding,
stumbling betwixt the desks.
the man, the myth, the legend,
just nobody knows he exists
Aug 31, 2023
Aug 31, 2023 at 11:47 AM UTC
excellent ears hear the secrets whispered at dusk
incredible intuition detects the creeping predator before it thrusts
marvellous mind can always find a place to hide amongst
crawling up into the corner of the ceiling like a spider, stay there collecting dust
May 18, 2023
May 18, 2023 at 11:03 AM UTC
Sensing a presence in my bed
I plead that this is all in my head
My gut wrenches. Heart
sinks
once my eyes fix upon you I dare not blink
Cold, numbness proceeding
I could never prepare for this feeling
You cannot meet my eyes
now they aren’t closed in sleep.
Mirrors to a soul you violated
You ******* creep
Nov 18, 2022
Nov 18, 2022 at 7:31 AM UTC
If you can't see me
technically I'm creeping.
That's the thing about van life at the beach.
The tinting on the windows
provide a delightful treat.
Greetings, yummy surfer meat.
Why would he change out here in the open
if he didn't want to be appreciated
for the beautiful piece of art he is?
If I touch myself, I'm a creep.
But my eyes can eat the meat.
Cold. He tenses his muscles.
I'm starved so I notice
He can't see me but-
what if I'm his destiny!
Nope. He's gone.
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 9:17 PM UTC
I mustn’t speak
or the monsters will creep
I must’ve bled
they sent vultures to keep
I wish i could speak
about what my mind leaks
bury my eyes under my cheeks
they sneak a creak
i am too scared to peek
i wish i could speak
of all that i fear
but my voice i cant hear
and so i disappear
theres a knock at the door
my heart hits the floor
my back against the wall
i still feel someone behind
there is someone in my mind
this room'ss key i can't find
everyone lied,
i must hide
the flower that died
and the child abide
though her spine
spiked with sharp edges
and still!
she mustn’t speak.
Nov 22, 2020
Nov 22, 2020 at 3:06 PM UTC
Suddenly
you cast upon me
doubts and flaws;
not a single virtue
as resentment creeps.
Sep 4, 2020
Sep 4, 2020 at 8:12 AM UTC
by ab
Not the poster child for torture,
It's hardly enough.
Turning people crazy exposing
them to greed and madness.
I've seen all this happen when suicide comes into play.
the voices will linger , but they play no part anyway.
The mind can not take it,
Transformation ensues.
Depression creeps up on your
Shoulder and intros sadness.
Brains are like paper crumbling infrastructure.
I would not ever wish this fatal fate on another.
May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 2:45 PM UTC
Thirty
by Michael R. Burch
Thirty crept upon me slowly
with feline caution and a slowly-twitching tail;
she waited three decades for the winds to shift;
now, claws unsheathed, she lies ready to assail
her defenseless prey.
Keywords/Tags: thirty, age, aging, maturity, time, creep, creeping, ambush, feline, predator
Apr 14, 2020
Apr 14, 2020 at 11:51 PM UTC
Huntress
by Michael R. Burch
after Baudelaire
Lynx-eyed, cat-like and cruel, you creep
across a crevice dropping deep
into a dark and doomed domain.
Your claws are sheathed. You smile, insane.
Rain falls upon your path, and pain
pours down. Your paws are pierced. You pause
and heed the oft-lamented laws
which bid you not begin again
till night returns. You wail like wind,
the sighing of a soul for sin,
and give up hunting for a heart.
Till sunset falls again, depart,
though hate and hunger urge you—On!
Heed, hearts, your hope—the break of dawn.
Originally published by Sonnetto Poesia. Keywords/Tags: Baudelaire, cat, catlike, cruel, creep, creeping, claws, paws, talons, huntress, heart, prey, hate, hunger, alliteration, sonnet
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 3:25 AM UTC
I name you Pygmalion
because between
my skin and delusion
you have carved
an ivory woman. You
have carved her
with your eyes. But
for all your looking,
you can’t see, little
blind man, that
I have no need
of Aphrodite’s blessing.
In the strength
of my spine
and the flash
of my teeth
and the skill
of my hands, hands
you did not hew,
I hum with
power, ferociously
alive.
The only thing of mine
you will ever be king of,
King Pygmalion,
is the likeness
you sculpt
in your dreams.
Dec 4, 2019
Dec 4, 2019 at 9:42 PM UTC
orange dewdrops chase your tail
follow you oh so quietly
the stone fox creeps into your world
trails behind you ever so slightly
patiently
your message waits for you to pick up the phone
you need to know so you may reap what you have sown
you are never alone.
Nov 24, 2019
Nov 24, 2019 at 9:18 PM UTC
Every good is dying species
It is rare to find something nice.
It is too late in the living
And I have stopped believing.
There is a creep around every corner
Comes out when naive comes closer,
Changes them to face harsh facts
No one's innocence is intact.
It is lack of justice and law,
Not fast with many flaws.
Lack of security in many places,
discrimination in gender and races.
Everything to consider even,
Odd to think as human.
For a difference of opinion,
No need to show the gun.
Very easy to sit on sofa watching TV
No consequence and no liability
I say my thoughts out loud
I have lot to complain about.
Every beauty is filled with ugly
Covered up nicely
Beneath the skin, an unpleasant view
We sell the same old as brand new.
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 1:46 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
The universe waits for no one,
now its time to get out of bed and breathe that fresh air,
the external lifeform without experience is a cry for help,
dies for wealth,
flu comas , mistreated health,
think for no one , think for yourself,
jump on the elevator and reach a light,
I don't mean death but whats inside,
I got nothing to hide,
I got nothing to hide,
But if you keep being asleep Imma have to step
a mile and call you sheep,
damaged interior when you reach your peak,
The soul is light but you do not speak,
And you do not open your eyes just to see,
And you know you got the vultures that creep,
No TLC.
©abpoetry2019
Nov 15, 2019
Nov 15, 2019 at 3:39 PM UTC
“I don’t know what to do”,
she says quietly.
“I know it sounds paranoid,
but he’s following me.”
“I talked to his sister,
she said he’s out of state.
Supposedly in Ohio,
cause he needed a break.”
“But no one’s heard from him,
since I got the P.O.
He always said they were useless,
just false safety for show.”
“Well of course he isn’t,
he left this last night.
He has the only spare key,
and I know I locked up tight.”
“I’ve never seen that picture,
but I still have that dress.
He bought it for me,
and it’s the one he liked best.”
“But turn it over,
and look what he wrote.
It’s ******* filthy,
that part about **********
“I’m just really scared,
because I know he’s watching.
I constantly have the feeling,
someone’s following me.”
“Would you do me a favor,
and stay with me tonight?
I probably won’t sleep,
but if you’re there I might.”
“Thank you so much,
you are such a great friend.
Just having a man there,
makes a difference in the end.”
“I’ll see you tonight,
thank you so much again.
He always hated you,
even though we’re just friends.”
.
.
.
.
I watch out the window,
as she climbs in her car.
She doesn’t suspect it’s me,
at least not so far.
She didn’t ask why I was sweating,
or see the dirt under my nails.
Thank God she was upset,
and didn’t notice the smell.
I keep watching,
till she drives away,
touching myself,
as I play out the day.
She was right about one thing,
he’s still around,
but he won’t leave my basement,
once he’s in the ground.
Maybe I’ll get lucky,
and she’ll wear the dress.
He did have good taste,
cause it’s the one I liked best.
Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 10:10 AM UTC
He scares the kids in the neighborhood
claims, he can snap your neck
and then return to watering the grass
hoping no one knows, or checks
Every place has one, or two
those nuts that just don't fit
crazy is, as crazy does
that's all there is, to it
He's got no lights, his place is dark
he pumps the Walmart gas
no tellin what he's thinkin, much
thinks everyone, but him, an ***
We'll keep our children distant
and tell them "don't you even dare!"
there's a haunted house upon our street
yes, a lunatic lives there
Aug 30, 2019
Aug 30, 2019 at 10:29 PM UTC
You are like an mosquito.
In the night, you keep me awake.
May 3, 2019
May 3, 2019 at 10:35 AM UTC