#wack - Hello Poetry

Top 3 types of people who probably need a therapist 1. Poets Have you seen the poems here?! Most are about pain, cutting, depression, suicide, ex’s, breakups, feeling too much, and so much more. Most of us probably need a visit to the loony bin! 2. Musicians Again, y’all feel as much as an elephant weighs, which is a lot! This means you feel lots of sadness, fear, and anger. Also, all good songs are about an artists emotional angst. So, yeah. 3. Artists No one can beautifully paint, sculpt, and draw naked people stabbing each other and still be sane. And also, what’s bad for the heart, is good for art. Art is filled with sadness, fear, and anger. So, my point is, we’re all insane. Including me. See you at the wacky shack!

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Nov 9, 2019

Nov 9, 2019 at 8:24 PM UTC

mjsayshey

Top 3 types of people who probably need a therapist

Top 3 types of people who probably need a therapist 1. Poets Have you seen the poems here?! Most are about pain, cutting, depression, suicide, ex’s, breakups, feeling too much, and so much more. Most of us probably need a visit to the loony bin! 2. Musicians Again, y’all feel as much as an elephant weighs, which is a lot! This means you feel lots of sadness, fear, and anger. Also, all good songs are about an artists emotional angst. So, yeah. 3. Artists No one can beautifully paint, sculpt, and draw naked people stabbing each other and still be sane. And also, what’s bad for the heart, is good for art. Art is filled with sadness, fear, and anger. So, my point is, we’re all insane. Including me. See you at the wacky shack!

8

You look too good to be true You must be bad You look like my future boo I would be glad You look too bad to be good I must be mad You look like ur in the mood Maybe just a tad. You look too fly to be down (for me) I must be nervous, Because your silly *** frown Says you might just curve us. You look too hip to be scared I know that I'm ripped But when we're both in the bed I gotta handle them hips You look too fine to be mind I hope I'm incorrect I don't mind being behind When I dig in ***** Why don't you bring those curves to us So I can put my line in you Koz girl this is a bad bust And I'm finna put you in line BUT Most importantly. You is you

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Aug 27, 2018

Aug 27, 2018 at 2:46 PM UTC

lion-chaser

Pick_up-

You look too good to be true You must be bad You look like my future boo I would be glad You look too bad to be good I must be mad You look like ur in the mood Maybe just a tad. You look too fly to be down (for me) I must be nervous, Because your silly *** frown Says you might just curve us. You look too hip to be scared I know that I'm ripped But when we're both in the bed I gotta handle them hips You look too fine to be mind I hope I'm incorrect I don't mind being behind When I dig in ***** Why don't you bring those curves to us So I can put my line in you Koz girl this is a bad bust And I'm finna put you in line BUT Most importantly. You is you

27

This is for you lame poets for those who think they can write but aren't trying and they know it Maybe if they used a pen right The ink, would, in turn, show it Scribble lines were written for pure hype The Opposite of blurred is focused The passion unveiled by this action is real Massive of accents appeal, drastic yet passively chill Why is your wackness alive and steadily actively well? Are your points derived from a skill? You're as dull as the night without lights or some thrill Pick up a quill then ignite likes its hell Shuffle your words, in return make a deal Lies from the truth, I can easily tell I sit in a booth, then I write what I feel That feeling of feeling that moment of falling, emotions are heavy and heavy is frolicking That was a lie....I hope you are following There's a doubt in my mind, you aren't reading this properly Do not get board...then just GO like monopoly Maybe if I put a few words down, you will rate it There are poets who show it...yet are still underrated A sea full of story's that have been negated I write what I feel and I will not be waiting These words of chemistry clutch captivation Winds of auroras spark smart illustrations Verbal wasteland I recycle the sanitation My heart pumps to fuel the blood of imagination Devour all who find word-puzzles an aggravation I take inspiration from various locations,then stitch words to combine these places Now look what has happened An arsenal of words to engage in action Here's a hint of wordplay with a dash of passion lyrical disaster for the eyes of the masses Simply dedicated to the three-lined poet has bins

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Nov 22, 2016

Nov 22, 2016 at 12:55 AM UTC

stellarhero

Lame Poets

This is for you lame poets for those who think they can write but aren't trying and they know it Maybe if they used a pen right The ink, would, in turn, show it Scribble lines were written for pure hype The Opposite of blurred is focused The passion unveiled by this action is real Massive of accents appeal, drastic yet passively chill Why is your wackness alive and steadily actively well? Are your points derived from a skill? You're as dull as the night without lights or some thrill Pick up a quill then ignite likes its hell Shuffle your words, in return make a deal Lies from the truth, I can easily tell I sit in a booth, then I write what I feel That feeling of feeling that moment of falling, emotions are heavy and heavy is frolicking That was a lie....I hope you are following There's a doubt in my mind, you aren't reading this properly Do not get board...then just GO like monopoly Maybe if I put a few words down, you will rate it There are poets who show it...yet are still underrated A sea full of story's that have been negated I write what I feel and I will not be waiting These words of chemistry clutch captivation Winds of auroras spark smart illustrations Verbal wasteland I recycle the sanitation My heart pumps to fuel the blood of imagination Devour all who find word-puzzles an aggravation I take inspiration from various locations,then stitch words to combine these places Now look what has happened An arsenal of words to engage in action Here's a hint of wordplay with a dash of passion lyrical disaster for the eyes of the masses Simply dedicated to the three-lined poet has bins

35

drank straight god above level heaven contagion. remember: lazy approves of room for error. snoring counts as blatantly losing. blank stare blank slate upstairs neighbors they were making what could only be violent love or beautiful music. either way the whole blueprint was shaking, the sound breaking a vacant space. & there was a cloud. there was always a cloud. sometimes he be spinnin round & round & rounded but he usually clucked out fore ever touching ground. uhh, shut his mouth. not saying so long to luck but the ***** wanted to run. how he long to get loud & lost in the crowd of tired brown- grays & blacks, boring blues. nature, mother, lackluster, satan kept a written record of the whether's mood & heavy surveillance of his movements as seen through ***** rear view mirrors. she said never better, never clearer. so, tomorrow if we're still our own & each other's dearest, we'll need to find the nearest payphone; call all world leaders, demand appearance, then apologize for all our static & interference.

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Apr 16, 2015

Apr 16, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC

soldamerican-

Wack *** G Phonk Sabbath Day

drank straight god above level heaven contagion. remember: lazy approves of room for error. snoring counts as blatantly losing. blank stare blank slate upstairs neighbors they were making what could only be violent love or beautiful music. either way the whole blueprint was shaking, the sound breaking a vacant space. & there was a cloud. there was always a cloud. sometimes he be spinnin round & round & rounded but he usually clucked out fore ever touching ground. uhh, shut his mouth. not saying so long to luck but the ***** wanted to run. how he long to get loud & lost in the crowd of tired brown- grays & blacks, boring blues. nature, mother, lackluster, satan kept a written record of the whether's mood & heavy surveillance of his movements as seen through ***** rear view mirrors. she said never better, never clearer. so, tomorrow if we're still our own & each other's dearest, we'll need to find the nearest payphone; call all world leaders, demand appearance, then apologize for all our static & interference.

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