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"afew" poems
A normal couple during the week, But when the weekend comes, They cancel all that bores them both, And to passion they succumb, She bathes in water full of roses, Soaking up the essence, While he chills out, Afew quick drinks then unwraps his **** present, Thet meet at home, the kitchen sink, Their first of many meetings, Then living room, where he comes first, Her mouth licks up his greeting, Theback yard table plays the host to we, hot loving passion, Where she comes next, then to their room, She models **** fashion, They warp themselves around eachother,sweat just makes it better, They probe their bodies, grinding down, The scent makes her get wetter, Before they know it, Monday's here, And in comes that routine, They kiss goodbye, head off to work, and crave next Friday,s meeting :)
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Nov 25, 2010
Nov 25, 2010 at 4:32 AM UTC
weekend delights
A deadbeat father Is not just the one that up and leaves Its the one that allows his woman to have an abortion And never takes a moment to grieve Its the one that Comes around once a year claiming he cant afford child support It doesnt cost a dime to 'support your child' Its priceless to make them smile You'd know that if you stuck around for a little while Its the one that stays in their children's life Yet allows their seeds To watch him strike his wife 'til she bleeds Its the one that Punches his daughter in the face Then expects a gift and a smile On father's day Its the one that Forms a search party when he realizes his child has gone missing But he's been slowly killing her on the 'inside' so Do you really think he cares if her 'outside' is breathing Its the one that Kicked out his 15 year old daughter for coming home 2 minutes too late Now her period is afew days late So changed are her life and her babies fate Its the one that Snooped through all the rooms in the house and found a gun Then instead of asking Made assumptions and punched his son So violence plus violence equals silence For the next few years Til Mr. Father hears the doorbell and brought to life are his greatest fears Each detail that started years ago in darkness is brought to light On how his son was brutally murdered in an 'unnecessary fight' See the definition of father is A man that 'raises' a child Not one that brings them 'down' Im speaking real truth here Its time you started acting more like fathers and less like clowns
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Mar 19, 2010
Mar 19, 2010 at 10:02 AM UTC
Dead Beat Father
A deadbeat father Is not just the one that up and leaves Its the one that allows his woman to have an abortion And never takes a moment to grieve Its the one that Comes around once a year claiming he cant afford child support It doesnt cost a dime to 'support your child' Its priceless to make them smile You'd know that if you stuck around for a little while Its the one that stays in their children's life Yet allows their seeds To watch him strike his wife 'til she bleeds Its the one that Punches his daughter in the face Then expects a gift and a smile On father's day Its the one that Forms a search party when he realizes his child has gone missing But he's been slowly killing her on the 'inside' so Do you really think he cares if her 'outside' is breathing Its the one that Kicked out his 15 year old daughter for coming home 2 minutes too late Now her period is afew days late So changed are her life and her babies fate Its the one that Snooped through all the rooms in the house and found a gun Then instead of asking Made assumptions and punched his son So violence plus violence equals silence For the next few years Til Mr. Father hears the doorbell and brought to life are his greatest fears Each detail that started years ago in darkness is brought to light On how his son was brutally murdered in an 'unnecessary fight' See the definition of father is A man that 'raises' a child Not one that brings them 'down' Im speaking real truth here Its time you started acting more like fathers and less like clowns
Continue reading...
38
I am no warrior nor an adventurer Never dreamt of touching the sun the mere rays satify me I am easy to please but easier to cease I envy Icarus despite judgements Because many have dreamt but afew pursued I am one of those who chose to subdue Cant seem teach myself to start anew Like how false angels flew Daring to be foolish is what i dream to do Filling my heart with nothing but crude Now comes the time I must pay my loo For so long I have kept my piece within Ever anxious for what the future awaits Now,Im in need of sails beneath me To push me forward out of these depths In need of Icarus's lead To help me express my greed May Apollo's warmth bless me For me to fight for what i need
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Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 10:07 AM UTC
DIVING FEATHERS
Once one opens their mind... So many endless ideas encircle and fly. These thoughts are vultures in the sky... Pure lust for poetry and prose... landing heavy on the nose... picking on the bones... of the dead... 'til they're dry... I dont even have to try. From the start its been a cartoon. This...heart's been grazed by afew harpoons. "Im bleeding" hung in quotations. These fuckin' words flow so fluently from my foundation. Reciting these writings that fall from my rib cage... Almost 40 and still dont know how to act my age. Frontal lobe speaks animation to the rest of my brain... Secret whispers to myself. Open up, say "Mind"... My many meanings become less tranquil with time. Times forgotten fortitude forged these strait lines. This steel structure sunk securely in solid sediment... This blood blotted into letters is all I represent. This head of mine, this mind...stays deep in the mines. Badly broken and bent on this dangerous descent.
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Dec 14, 2009
Dec 14, 2009 at 1:49 PM UTC
Open up, say "Mind."
*You write poetry ? she almost cackles in disdain. Followed by an incredulous eyeroll Who the **** reads poetry anymore. She continued that's pointless And unattractive. How do hope to get a girl. As though getting bedded was the reason I write. She introduced me to her sister I wrote poems for her Poems that spilled my soul onto the paper. She read them and said she loved them. She saved them in a collection book. Afew weeks later She invited me to her bed. A place where I still love To read my poetry for her. So many many years later.*
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Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 2:28 AM UTC
so you are a ******* poet..she laughed