#whos
Sigma sigma on the wall, who's the skibidiest of them all?
Is it Baby Gronk?
Is it Grimace?
Is it Skibidi Toilet?
Perhaps it is I, who rizzed up a level 10 Gyatt, and fanum taxed her heart.
She is the Chick-fil-A sauce in my McDonalds.
Forever griddying in Ohio
Feb 11
Feb 11, 2026 at 5:45 PM UTC
Who the hell woke me up?
Now I’m here, oh?
I know what you want to hear but also what you need.
My host is torn between his own desires and doing what is right.
Perhaps I can dance around his feeble kind long enough to get out a sickly post.
What the hell has life come to.
Agghhh
Almost lost control but then you know who rules my soul? Still torn between the light and the night.
Still torn between the light and the night
Someone save me before my spirit turns vapor though I smoke enough to silence my resolve. Give me guidance to believe that flowers bloom for reasons unseen and passions fruit to quench my ego need.
Logging off but don’t you worry I will be back hopefully with more control as of next.
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 4:09 PM UTC
As I cry I watch
My family die
As the president laughs
With joy playing golf
As loved ones die
Coronavirus disease is here
Coronavirus everywhere
Suffering every day
Feeling the pain every day
Nobody is Safe
The unknown is here
No more happiness
And joy
Coronavirus is here
Our loved ones
Taken away
As Coronavirus has arrived
Sadly it's here to stay..
May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 4:18 AM UTC
Who’s she?
A bit moody
A bit foodie
But that’s fine,
Because she’s mine.
Who’s she?
Sometimes strong,
Sometimes wrong,
But that’s fine,
Because she’s mine.
Who’s she?
Always drives me crazy,
Always she’s lazy,
But that’s fine,
Because she’s mine.
Who’s she?
She always make me smile,
She always distracts me with her own style,
But that’s fine,
Because she’s mine.
Who’s she?
Always hungry
Sometimes angry,
But that’s fine,
Because she’s mine.
Who’s she?
She makes my life complete,
She makes my heart beat,
But that’s fine,
Because she’s mine.
-Darsh Parekh
May 4, 2020
May 4, 2020 at 11:34 AM UTC
i’m the man who’s gonna wake up next to you
slipping away, a non-starter, her leg crosses over mine,
a right sided shakedown shackle, adhesion flesh as
tough as old yellowed scotch tape sticking stuck
no escaping, a known 6:00am risk when you sleep with
a pre-advertised holy roller, twist and turner woman,
making you into an unofficial woe-man (too)
left hand grabs the lamenting instrument, the beat up iPad,
to record your enslavement, a distraction from the bladder’s
faint morn winking at you with a Cheshire grin, muffling a
chuckle, at a predicament wonderful familiar, but unresolvable
this situation, a category of life’s small measure of annoyances,
invokes the wordy title, and a write-down list of pluses and minuses,
which I’ll spare which o’witch be the longer list
poems are where you find them, under your nose,
looking out a city bus window, but sometimes like flypaper,
they just come unasked and stick to you, the separating of the skin,
like a too tight bandaid, ain’t worth the pain and freedom gained
later, share this missive and her suggestion, she will prepare an
NDA (a non-disclosure agreement) or adopt other strategies like
pushing me out of the bed without warning when i am typing ,
to witch and to wit, reply,
ah!
another poem commissioned, and
*perhaps, name change too, needed,
making love in the morning*
12/14/19
Dec 14, 2019
Dec 14, 2019 at 1:40 PM UTC
Nighttime
Is not moonlit cheeks
And starry eyes
It is a silent island
A private pillar
In the mists
Of lost sleep
A single bleary eye
Fuzzy and clouded
Picking out the patches
Of pixelated sky
Deadened by darkness
Alone again
Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 4:41 AM UTC
There's a mirror, hanging on my wall.
It shows me images of what it sees.
There's no bias. No judgement.
All I see is the hideous monster I call me.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 9:45 AM UTC
when she whispers
the Shepard
fell
asleep
so we think
?
...
..
.
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 8:30 PM UTC
under naked moonlight
my eyes had deceived me
my mind has tortured
me
for
years
she took my breath away
her black dress
on
an
concrete smile
she styled me
as she
danced for me
?
...
..
.
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 1:54 PM UTC
Who's dancing today?
Let's dance, I'll say,
As we age this way,
We'll dance on anyway,
Only in our minds, eh!
Let's dance across the floor,
As we did in days of yore,
Let's keep on dancing, I say,
So, who's dancing today?
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 5:36 PM UTC
It's been a little while since I tried this
self-therapy via words
that I won't share with anyone
but strangers near or far
a little while since my prose
got up from their beds
dusted off some cobwebs
and stretched their limbs
a little while since the black ichor
the ink that sometimes
bleeds out onto laptop keys
became mediocre poetry
and I get it, life's been hard
not too hard, but busy
not emotionally, but physically
and I didn't really need it
but I missed this
this little stretch of mental finesse
this warming up of metaphors
this cracking of poetic knuckles
Maybe this is what it's like to be understood.
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 2:42 AM UTC
Do you argue your point
To argue for love
Or do you argue
Just because
Do you really care
For every American out there
What are you truly fighting for
Helping the millions poor?
Or are you morphing with society
Doing things unjustifiably
Our hypocritical democracy
A nation full of dishonesty
Soldiers dying left and right
Parents send their kids to school with fright
But all we care about are insignificant things
I’m told, “the ends justify the means”
A country full of hate
Keeping people out because of race
American is so blessed
But most are too obsessed
Many can’t even imagine
How a nation like us can have no compassion
We do not know others lives
For we walk vigilantly in our opportunistic thrive
So forgetful of where we’ve come
For a God whos love cannot be undone
To give back what he gave us
Something we always fail to discuss
We blindly became a nation
Who has no purpose for its creation
Future president, can you do it?
Will you help us get through it?
Maybe you can change it someday
Please. Change us back to who we were yesterday.
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 1:45 PM UTC
I don't have elegant words
I'm not one to relate lips
To fresh picked strawberries
But I have feelings
They could deafen you
With their dial tone
And god I try to use them for good
But I end up finding the bad
In everything
I know you're a little rough
around the edges, I'm a bit
coarse on the inside
There are moments where
I question it all
I'm blind when you're not here
The simmer on my
hard-to-warm-up-to soul
slowly dissipates
I ought to learn to remind myself
It's okay to open up my thick skull
To let someone see what's underneath
But who's to say
I won't regret it
Like I have with every other
Gallivanting soul I've allowed
To muddy up my doorstep?
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 10:37 PM UTC