Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#homies
You keep lighting up my screen But Im always leaving you on seen I got games to play and things to do I'm really not thinkin much bout you I am busy, I got homies You just ain't my one and only
0
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 11:03 PM UTC
Seen
A question I have to ask Has it always been like this I've never felt so comfortable just happy to exist now you tell theres a reason a reason for your frown well darling I'd pick up it all to get out of this town lets just run away start brand new **** all these ******** baby its me and you but... You don't even know me At least lets not forget smiling at you was the least of my regrets at least I could be depended on at least I could be depended on And everyday were striving for Another new place to carry on I just wanted to believe That everyone gets what they want to achieve Let's just run away Start brand new Another new place where we belong to but you don't even know me so babe lets not pretend I just wanted someone new to hold on to the end to hold on to the end of it all to hold on to ....the end to hold on to ....the end the end....of it all run away , start brand new, baby lets pretend. run away , start brand new, baby lets pretend.
0
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 12:49 PM UTC
X's O's 3's (Song Version) Final I promise
You constructed a towering cathedral out of popsicle sticks and blue Lego pieces, searching for deeper meaning through building a foundation from discarded dreams and stuttered melodies. I listened as you played folk and bluegrass covers on your acoustic guitar, wondering if we would ever cross our arms into a figure-eight on a rainy morning, in the middle of a fire-fight between the Vietcong and Francis Coppola. Remember when we watched “Lost in Translation” and you asked did I feel isolated and anxious around large groups of white people? I wanted to nod, but instead I smoked green out of an apple and ate the core, as smoke lingered under my chin. You tapped my shoulder, stared me down, and forced a grin, as though you knew my answer would be nothing but manufactured nouns and verbs, gibberish, and Pig-Latin with no room for form, or design. The sun belted heat rays down on our tired faces, stopping only when a Mac Demarco song crooned from the boom-box on the patio table and as we heard the beat and the lyrics, we took shots of fireball and had a discussion on EDM festivals and the rise of smartphones capturing moments of racism and hatred with each video, each picture. I wanted to read “Kafka on The Shore” to a six tennis players from my country club, but they were too busy staging a protest for an increase in minimum wage jobs and besides Murakami spoke with a thick Japanese accent, which turned off white people who revered his prose. A shame you didn’t draw a faux Calvin and Hobbes comic strip about Susi Derkins finding nirvana in watching “Game of Thrones” while sleep-deprived and eating half a bar of Xans. We drank the entire bottle of Captain Morgan’s and still Drake’s Uncharted story mode didn’t seem any less fascinating. Your cousin Bonnie crashed a white Ford Mustang into the back of U-Street Music Hall and I cringed as I rode shotgun, the airbag releasing and smacking into my ruddy face, all the life I’d lived gleaming beneath the shadowy figure I bought last weekend at the thrift shop on West Broad Street. You could have come over last Thursday to listen to me play jazz on the piano for Epicure’s open mic night, but you were too busy playing saxophone on the veranda in Georgetown’s Waterfront and anyhow, you wanted a relationship forged on trust and great *** and I could barely get out of my townhouse without writing a diary entry etched in bone marrow and angel dust, plus you told me, “I love your imaginary brother.” And all I have is a teddy bear named Franklin. You could have come over last Thursday to listen to me play jazz on the piano for Epicure’s open mic night, but you were too busy playing saxophone on the veranda in Georgetown’s Waterfront and anyhow, you wanted a relationship forged on trust and great *** and I could barely get out of my townhouse without writing a diary entry etched in bone marrow and angel dust, plus you told me, “I love your imaginary brother.” And all I have is a teddy bear named Franklin. You could have come over last Thursday to listen to me play jazz on the piano for Epicure’s open mic night, but you were too busy playing saxophone on the veranda in Georgetown’s Waterfront and anyhow, you wanted a relationship forged on trust and great *** and I could barely get out of my townhouse without writing a diary entry etched in bone marrow and angel dust, plus you told me, “I love your imaginary brother.” And all I have is a teddy bear named Franklin.
0
Aug 4, 2016
Aug 4, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC
Franklin
You constructed a towering cathedral out of popsicle sticks and blue Lego pieces, searching for deeper meaning through building a foundation from discarded dreams and stuttered melodies. I listened as you played folk and bluegrass covers on your acoustic guitar, wondering if we would ever cross our arms into a figure-eight on a rainy morning, in the middle of a fire-fight between the Vietcong and Francis Coppola. Remember when we watched “Lost in Translation” and you asked did I feel isolated and anxious around large groups of white people? I wanted to nod, but instead I smoked green out of an apple and ate the core, as smoke lingered under my chin. You tapped my shoulder, stared me down, and forced a grin, as though you knew my answer would be nothing but manufactured nouns and verbs, gibberish, and Pig-Latin with no room for form, or design. The sun belted heat rays down on our tired faces, stopping only when a Mac Demarco song crooned from the boom-box on the patio table and as we heard the beat and the lyrics, we took shots of fireball and had a discussion on EDM festivals and the rise of smartphones capturing moments of racism and hatred with each video, each picture. I wanted to read “Kafka on The Shore” to a six tennis players from my country club, but they were too busy staging a protest for an increase in minimum wage jobs and besides Murakami spoke with a thick Japanese accent, which turned off white people who revered his prose. A shame you didn’t draw a faux Calvin and Hobbes comic strip about Susi Derkins finding nirvana in watching “Game of Thrones” while sleep-deprived and eating half a bar of Xans. We drank the entire bottle of Captain Morgan’s and still Drake’s Uncharted story mode didn’t seem any less fascinating. Your cousin Bonnie crashed a white Ford Mustang into the back of U-Street Music Hall and I cringed as I rode shotgun, the airbag releasing and smacking into my ruddy face, all the life I’d lived gleaming beneath the shadowy figure I bought last weekend at the thrift shop on West Broad Street. You could have come over last Thursday to listen to me play jazz on the piano for Epicure’s open mic night, but you were too busy playing saxophone on the veranda in Georgetown’s Waterfront and anyhow, you wanted a relationship forged on trust and great *** and I could barely get out of my townhouse without writing a diary entry etched in bone marrow and angel dust, plus you told me, “I love your imaginary brother.” And all I have is a teddy bear named Franklin. You could have come over last Thursday to listen to me play jazz on the piano for Epicure’s open mic night, but you were too busy playing saxophone on the veranda in Georgetown’s Waterfront and anyhow, you wanted a relationship forged on trust and great *** and I could barely get out of my townhouse without writing a diary entry etched in bone marrow and angel dust, plus you told me, “I love your imaginary brother.” And all I have is a teddy bear named Franklin. You could have come over last Thursday to listen to me play jazz on the piano for Epicure’s open mic night, but you were too busy playing saxophone on the veranda in Georgetown’s Waterfront and anyhow, you wanted a relationship forged on trust and great *** and I could barely get out of my townhouse without writing a diary entry etched in bone marrow and angel dust, plus you told me, “I love your imaginary brother.” And all I have is a teddy bear named Franklin.
Continue reading...
60
Driving and jiving at a hundred and five Taking the corner, like, it's a bee hive Cop riding my tail, sirens and lights Singing my loudest, as the turbo ignites Gone in the rear-view, he's clean disappeared Hitting two twenty, without any fears Riding and singing, my buddies, they cheer As the engine sputters, and blows out the head Residing in heaven, now totally dead Remember my homeys, when living true free Watch out for the road, and all it's debris Hamster peds so innocent, cute and small will ruin your life, if in the intake, they fall
0
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 7:31 AM UTC
Rodential Suicide