#showoff
They pretend to be nice,
But in reality, they are rude.
They pretend to be kind,
But in reality, they are cruel.
They pretend to love animals,
But in reality, they **** their blood.
They pretend to love God,
But in reality, they walk the path of demons.
They pretend to love
But in reality, it's all lust
They pretend to save nature,
But in reality, they make nature cry
All I want to remind you,
my dear,
Nature is not shy.
Apr 1, 2025
Apr 1, 2025 at 11:37 PM UTC
Oh, dear one, so gentle and sweet, cherry blossom lips so fair,
With eyes shaded by the sun's heat, and your scent rich in the air.
Lions clash with fierce delight, while your tender face I see,
Amidst the chaos of their fight, soft skin gazes back at me.
I saw your smile fade, then a tilt so mild, you looked at King Francis with a nod,
He smiled at me, saying, "Lucky child," your glove seemed to speak, as if it were odd.
I furrowed my brows, wondering why, you glanced at the king once more,
A myth took hold, thoughts running high, too much for the court to endure.
I am Court de Lorge, steady and bold, should not worry or care,
But then I saw your glove unfold, thrown it in the lion's lair.
I got lost in thought and your eyes, could not figure except for a bow,
I ran to the pit with fears that rise, Oh, what have I done for love now?
Fear, yes, fear runs down my spine, is this love when danger is near?
I didn't look left or right in line, saw the red glove, vision clear.
Rage and anger down my spine, I thought I was yours, you were mine.
This isn't love as I defined, threw the glove at you, a goodbye sign.
The king stood up, "By God, well done," too raged to bow, I held my breath,
With heavy steps, the lesson spun, I learned to never go too far for love.
Jan 19, 2025
Jan 19, 2025 at 1:26 AM UTC
In the echo chambers of a digital age,
Love adorned in a public stage.
Snapshots shared, a fleeting art,
Yet, whispers of real love set apart.
A symphony drowned in the social gaze,
Gleaming displays, love's public phase.
But beneath the glare, a truth unfolds,
Real love in subtlety, a story untold.
Not in grand gestures, or in fame,
But in care's whisper, a silent claim.
Respect, the currency of hearts entwined,
A dance unseen, yet profoundly defined.
Humility, the canvas where love is drawn,
Beyond the spotlight, a connection spawned.
Privacy, the garden where intimacy grows,
Real love blooms where authenticity flows.
In the quiet acts, in shadows cast,
True love thrives, a moment to last.
Away from the stage, a sanctuary found,
In genuine love, in silence profound.
Dec 13, 2023
Dec 13, 2023 at 6:44 PM UTC
Grill
Burn a little
Superficial surfaces
Reveal the real
Flavour
Aug 27, 2020
Aug 27, 2020 at 11:41 PM UTC
You were always the show off
I knew from the very start
But that nickname didn't quite takeoff
Until your first work of Art
You usually kept to yourself
At least you did back then
But before long, I found myself
Slowly becoming your friend
You gained the title of hottest guy
And for that you should be proud
So many girls want to be with you
except their way to loud
Your best friends a Gentle Giant
At least thats how it seems
I wouldn't be surprised if a bromance
Sprouted from those hidden seams
You have dimples in your cheeks
that show whenever you smile
Your eyes will slightly squint
As we talk about your lifestyle
A white apple watch, adores your left wrist
But for some reason your always fiddling with this
Always checking the time, as if you were late
Is it really that difficult to slow down and wait?
You're really quite an Athlete
Your never second best
But I really cant help but wonder
Do you ever get stressed?
You do chemistry and business
You run track everyday
You work two jobs on weekends
And yet, you don't seem to be in disarray
Does it ever get to difficult?
Putting up such an act
Cause surely one point in time
Your reputation cracked
Sure you make your bad jokes
And everything seems fine
But does there ever come a point
Where your two lives entwine
A perfect boy doesn't exist
So what i would like to know
Is there something about you
that you never dared to show?
Cause many sit here wondering
And many wish to know
What hides beneath that facade of yours?
whats hidden deep below?
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 8:13 PM UTC
It was July of '64, I think
not long after a bunch of ******** sick with greed, hate and vengeance masked as patriotism
blew the President's head off
I was trying to hold onto my childhood at 9
it became rather difficult after that
I saw that famous news guy take off his glasses and weep before the nation
on our 25 inch black and white Zenith
I looked at that guy like a dog looks at something completely askew
something not at all normal that has just entered it's world
I was outside, behind my house in Southeast D.C.
Anacostia
playing along the incline where the coal made it's way from the
old apartment building's basement window opening
there was always some that they would spill when loading up
to feed the giant furnace
Tommy Arthur, who had criminal written all over him at 16
his greased back jet black hair, Banlon shirts, baggy grey slacks and high-top All Stars walked by with a friend
stopped to light his Lucky Strike
and asked me to show him how I could jump from one tree to another
I had done it 100 times, no big deal
my chance to show off for the town's bad ***
I reached the top and took my usual look around
there was the roof of my house, Sam's Market on the corner,
Baby and her brother Stinky playing on their porch
Baby still had the cast on her leg from the car that sent her flying
She was running across U Street to make it safely to base during a game of 'hide and seek'
Stinky...trust me, you don't want to know why he has that name.
I turned toward the tree limb belonging to the tree that grew alongside this one
it was an easy jump really, not more than 4 or 5 feet
perhaps I was a bit too cocky
after all, this was Tommy Arthur
other than the upper half of my 2 middle fingers on the right hand
and even less of the left, nothing touched limb
I was woefully short
I saw ground coming quickly
laced with broken coal chunks and little else
I smacked the hill face first
awkwardly twisting slightly to the right just prior to impact
Tommy and his friend, mouths agape
respectfully asked if I was allright
just before leaving
instinctively smelling trouble
blood was shooting from an opening above my left eye
at the upper corner of my forehead just below the hairline
my white tee shirt was quickly soaked and bright red
It was quite a relief when the cobwebs cleared and I realized I was alive
and even more incredibly, suffered no broken bones as far as I could tell
seeing that I was facing no more than a few stitches to close a head wound
my attention now turned to what good use I could make of my horrific appearance
besides having a great story to tell my buddies
I started walking towards the backyard gate
which was just a matter of 20 or 30 feet
I thought about what I'd do once I reached the house
but it all played out perfectly
as I climbed the steps to the back porch
and slowly made my way to the kitchen just inside
I see Mom with her back to me and she's frying chicken
I slowly enter and remain poised just inside the kitchen entrance
after a minute or so she turns with a pan of frying ******* wings and thighs
she sees her youngest son with a fully bloodied tee shirt
and blood spewing from his head
a chicken wing flew past me and I believe cleared the porch
other chicken parts and grease were strewn about the kitchen, dining room
and hallway
I was shown little sympathy for my wound
and after some very intense cleaning up was taken to Dr Phillips for stitches
Dr Phillips was never surprised to see me
The scar remains after 53 years
I returned once or twice and drove past the house
and looked at those trees I had climbed so many times
on that July day in 1964
I had fallen nearly 3 stories
landed head first into hard ground
and walked home with no more than a cut
all logic says I should have broken my neck
but in my life logic plays a very small part
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 11:27 AM UTC
i hear you
piercing the silent
clinking of champagne
glasses
with the laughter of a
thousand waterfalls
for my benefit.
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 3:40 AM UTC
Proud little peacock
Plumage up for display
No need for repeated mocks
No need for you to say
I can clearly see
For we may be quiet but we have eyes
Strutting conspicuously
Showing off your prize
We already know you have it
We all do
On the sidelines we sit
Seeing you through
Tell me little bird
What do you get
When you say your words
Were your objectives met?
Everytime I hear them
Just makes me gag
I'd roll my eyes
Just hearing you brag
People'll give you
When accolades are deserving
But I suppose they're never enough
'Cause I still see you parading
Well I know I may be unpredictable
A tad bit capricious
To be honest, you...
You're simply being ostentatious
...and it's annoying the hell out of me...
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 8:12 AM UTC