"antagonizing" poems
What reason do we have to be angry.
What reason do we have to curse the stars
and all the threads that bind them.
Who's fault apart from ours is it,
that this is the hell that we have placed ourselves amidst.
Every point in our lives,
lying like a checkpoint,
glowing like a streetlamp in the dead of night.
At the feet of these golden warm, welcoming lights there lay a crossroad.
And we foolish children feeble in heart and mind fumble without a further thought.
We follow our hearts and we follow them into deep into the disguising dark.
-
Adventure was the death of us, antagonizing.
Adventure was heartache,
agony as evil wizards warped our worlds until we were weaning.
It wasn't too late before the brazen beasts had burdened our lives with ever more brutality.
Wolves hungry for the hearts of men, walking on hind legs to better hinder us with horrors.
This world is beautiful with wonder,
but it's wonders are like lights
upon the Lophiiformes head.
Bright, beautiful and inviting
But lead with haste into the jaws of oblivion,
well hidden amongst the dark.
N.H.
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 10:15 AM UTC
I fall to my knees,
Kneeling before you,
My Master,
Groveling at your glorious feet,
To reveal the chains of submission,
Weighing down my delicate form.
You gaze upon me,
Beholding soft skin shimmering,
As my body is folded over;
Viewing my tantalizing beauty,
As I bestow myself,
To fulfill your deepest desires,
Conjuring the darkest yearnings,
Manifesting within.
“Rise, Baby Girl’’,
Your deep voice commands,
Reverberating within this crimson colored chamber,
As your figure towers over me,
Beckoning my legs to stand,
Obliging to please you,
As my hazel eyes encounter,
The blazing intensity of your own,
Sending flames to burn,
Down to the small of my back.
Fear is the armor I allow to fall,
Tumbling to the ground,
Cloaking myself in trust,
As I allow my body to be,
Touched by dominant hands,
Trussed up by ropes and chains,
To restrain to me.
Willingly becoming prey,
To the sweet, antagonizing caress,
Before your hand aggressively strikes,
My behind,
Sending me into a realm,
Of pleasure and pain,
Morphing into one sensation.
Free is the response I experience,
As you bounds my wrists,
With your tie,
Pinning me down,
Straddling my body.
Placed between your thighs,
With your heated lips,
Conquering every inch of my body.
The Sting of the flogger,
Is a bite against the skin I crave,
As silence is the language,
I choose to speak,
Feeling your fingertips claim me,
As your territory to reign over,
As you please.
I yearn to satisfy the hunger,
Starving to be your nourishment;
For Sadism to feed,
Upon masochism,
As a balance of power is established,
As we lose ourselves in fiery passion.
Dominance and Submission,
Forces meant to bond to the other,
In a marriage of infliction and reception,
Of blissful agony,
Accepting the temptations you direct,
Towards me as guide,
To obtain our darkest of fantasies.
Submission speaks out within,
The silence as I give you,
A proffered hand,
Succumbing to the sensual dreams,
You promise to me,
Allowing you to possess me in any way,
You wish in accordance to our terms.
May you indulge upon my form,
Like decadent candy you crave,
To devour,
Savoring every taste,
Sound, smell, and touch,
In this licentious dance between you,
My Master,
And me, your fervent lady,
Of submission.
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 5:18 PM UTC
What is guilt?
It's the feeling in the bottom of your stomach that makes you want to *****
It's the antagonizing voice in your mind reminding you of what you've done
It's the hard forgiveness someone gives when you go behind their back
It's the love given by those you've hurt
What a wretched feeling that can only sometimes be removed
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 6:02 PM UTC
My heart bleeds blue at midnight. I heard owls hooting in my despair. Alone ,I lay naked underneath the beaming moonlight. I touch slowly my neck and close my eyes. Thinking of a predator I been waiting for a lifetime slowly slithering its warmth on my thighs.So preciously antagonizing my soul with its piercing eyes.It's breath is an intimidating musical hiss. I crave it's injection. Hiss between every piercing kiss.I touched myself harder as the owls hooted into the moonlight. I needed you. Imagining my predator teasing my heated skin with its cold fangs. Immensely waiting for its long hollow teeth to pierce me. While wishing, it instantly became the predator of my heart as it slither around my skin.The music began to start.Predator started to taunt, looking for the sweetest fatal bite.My soul began gasping harder, My predator, oh please prey on me harder.Slither uncontrollably, slither harder as my breaths change heavily. Predator inject itself slowly through every bite.Oh I am in love.It was perfect dosage. This is love. Intoxicating every blood vessel of my body.Every bite,I felt more yours. I instantly became weaker, your bite was the perfect dosage for the **** It was perfect dosage.The perfect poison. This was love. The perfect ********** Underneath the moonlight , vivaciously sweating naked I screamed. Longing more for your touch.The owl hooted once more, morning has come.
I awake , I was loved for the first time.
With its injection ,
The predator righteously own my crimson heart
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 3:21 AM UTC
i am of the light
despite
my shroud
that crowds the villains in the toppled telemetry of my steeds
galloping gallantly from the burning cities of my dreams
i shall gleam from her or he
that which delivers
their truths faithfully to their dreams
open wounds turn invitation
in the pity of hungry thieves
who dared to dream
of peasants king-ed.
as we sing
sing
of desperation
in passionate confessions
of jaded wisdom
passed on through every failure
never to falter
in the betrayals of Walters
lost
in loss-less flac files
i have miles to go
smiles to grow
daggers projectiles
from mild mannered children
freshly ridden
of maniacal miracles
spiritual
but not stupid
we are troopin
this lucid movement
grooving
to the repetition of the drum
the gas blow back of a gun
the bursting bubbles of bubble gum
having fun
i learnt goodly on the run
learned nothing in victory
learned nothing in simplicity
complacently
snickering it all away
bullet by bullet
case by case
and eventually the blade
in my compassionate displays
we shall congregate
and hate ourselves
**** the donks to hell
dwelling on the cellar doors
that darkos teacher adored
in verbal massacre
of the written literature
of cracked brain fixtures
seeping the lines
in cold tingles
down the spines of maniacs
just relax
mix it down on a track
spit the thesis into pieces
through the creases of cracked sneakers, and out the speakers
of trouble seekers.
mistakes make us
deliberate chaos
tossed
upon the fakers
who cry to think
the dream
became a reality
mistake us
for serrated blades that rip the hearts from beasts
sometimes i stop to think
while having a drink
conclusive brinks
of sanity creaks
of my humility
secreting
frivolously
the disposing of my jealousy
of your feelings
hellaciously
i rip a felony
from a face
in appealing agony
antagonizing me
in the frenzied forensics
of my oblique
outlooks
none of us
were ever crooks
speaking to self
while being booked
in hell
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 1:36 AM UTC
*There Was A Strange Lady with A Big ****
Who frequented the bushy path by my Hut!
I could tell from her ogles and giggles
that she knew I melted at her wiggles...
That antagonizing strange Lady with a Big ****
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 8:16 AM UTC
Loony Tunes
Bugs Bunny is my favorite rabbit,
watching him became my habit.
He was smart, funny and two steps ahead,
his popularity was very widespread.
His best friend was Daffy Duck,
he never did have the same luck.
Rabbit season, duck season,
rabbit season, duck season,
watching them, I needed no reason.
Speedy Gonzales was so very quick,
this fast mouse was also a *****
Owned his own pizza place,
won a gold metal, at the local rat race.
Yosemite Sam was a short tempered man,
killing Bugs and Daffy was always his plan.
He's a liar, a cheat and a sore loser,
maybe he should have been a drug user.
Tasmanian Devil was a tornado of destruction,
he never needed any kind of introduction.
Foghorn Leghorn never saw a negative situation,
I say, I say boy was his favorite quotation.
Pepe Le Pew was a French skunk,
women loved his smelly *****
Marvin The Martian was from Mars,
his laser gun would leave you with scars.
Tweety was an antagonizing canary,
lived with Granny, and flew like a crafty fairy.
Sylvester was Granny's pet cat,
him and Tweety always went *** for tat.
Road Runner was so very fast,
said beep beep as Wile E Coyote he passed.
Never fell for those Acme supplies,
getting blown up was his ultimate demise.
Porky Pig was just happy to be included,
the, the that's all folks, is how this will be concluded.
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
*
I'd rather you use bombs and knives,
I'd rather you use guns and swords.
I'd rather that we would have fights;
that you'd leave me with open sores.
I'd rather you find a different weapon,
a different tool to use on me.
I wish you'd make me feel a pain;
I wish you'd leave me weak and ******
Yet the sharpest tool is what you use;
you leave me dead inside.
I wish you'd tear my heart out;
I wish I would have died.
You open your mouth and the weapons spill out,
you're armed with words that you scream and shout.
The pain is unbearable, the torture indescribable.
I know there's no point in putting up a struggle.
You **** me, one by one,
your words an open ****
They slice me up in pieces,
making me feel like trash.
All I can be is silent;
I know that is the best.
I try to block them out,
but they're already in my chest.
Your words are killing me;
a slow, antagonizing death.
Each word you say cuts me,
each wound raw and fresh.
I wish you'd let me be,
I wish you'd leave it unsaid.
I guess you just can't see
you can't bring someone back from the dead.
*
Apr 1, 2022
Apr 1, 2022 at 8:58 PM UTC
The pain drops terror into the pupils of my eyes..
and yet..
it Excites me.
I can feel the scorching blaze of the fiery, red hot steel blade, press onto my back..
In this dream I am tortured with the lust of a fantasy that will never again become my reality.
This room of warm selfish hate and antagonizing self pity makes me dizzy with emotion. I can't control it..
My heart longs for her..
her touch..
the brush of her soft, gentle white skin against mine..
"I Love you"..
I manage to whisper in this room of thick warmth..
She sighs..
The breeze exits her lips and smoothly caresses the side of my temple.
It's cool..
almost as if to be winter-like.
Enough to give me the strength to lurch upward towards her!
Only to be held back just a fingers length, gap..
Her arched neck and burning eyes pierce through my forehead and exit the rear of my cranium..
Her panting had become ****** some how.. almost as though she enjoyed it.. but when I look up.. I see darkness no more.. but instead..
sorrow.
I am weak now.. too weak.. My flesh is beaten.. my heart is bitter.. I close my eyes and feel her hands brush the edges of my back, ever so gently..
I feel a tear hit the back of my neck and faintly hear sobs..
Before it all goes.. after I feel her lift my face up from defeat.. her hands cool like ice... and her hair.. as black as my soul.. I hear her whisper faint, but also between sobs..
"I-.. I Love You, Too.."
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 9:27 PM UTC
Today is my day.
The day I proceed to be,
Hateful, antagonizing, feral
and crude.
Obnoxious, mean, deluded
and down right rude.
Today is the day.
I'll **** off the roof.
I'll give little kids the finger
and spit upon their youth.
Kick the old and disrespect their wishes.
Tell them to die so I can spend their riches.
Dig up the dead and desecrate the graves...
Leave them in obscene positions with each other.
A son pile-driving a grandfather on top of a mother.
Today is the day I will disrespect all life.
Maybe it will start a trend.
Maybe it will remind others not to.
Apr 7, 2012
Apr 7, 2012 at 6:51 PM UTC
they want me to be serious, to take it seriously. To look at sunrises calmly and seize coals and watch over red-blooded, man-fueled wars about bravado, integrity, and land. To look at money, a simple representation of labor, and see what it drives other to do, to do for me.
to crush cigarettes and testicles under my boots,
to crawl through mud and barbed wire, smiling
with grit in my grimace
salt rolling, sweaty brows
twisted locks of dark hair
tobacco-brown spit, ground
and filthy, caked in mud
teeth bared like an animal
white eyeteeth crunching
**Scorching earth where my feet touch down.
A cigarette put out on a tongue. No more talking.**
They want me to see and that, in the dark of the night, in the light of the day, when the sun rises and sets, there is pain, always, elsewhere and everywhere. So I will not tarry or joke or be frivolous with the battered souls of others and to think, to think about applying anything I know, to run along with the vigorous social constructs they ask me to dissect and then revolutionize, because I am young, and I will sprint faster, against accusations, and only briefly.
They want me to look at the world like a runner looks at the red track,
with their toes and sinews coiled as hard as steel, a pinnacle of human
at the height of athleticism and possess the ruthlessness of a rabid dog
drool rushed into foam and mad from dehydrating, my brain swelling
with my hormone driven
red, hazy, athletic rage,
gunning my ambition
for some organization.
No.
I will fight, yes, but I will not fight for a name on a card, shield, or building.
I will fight for the sake of fighting because I am contentious and I am wrong.
I side against hero and villain, because I am the ambiguity,
that languishes, resides in no-man's land, antagonizing both.
Being disliked in purgatory is sometimes more easy than chomping at the bit,
for blood and the power of cracking a black bull whip, so I can avoid this terrible avarice and corrupting beauty that comes with working hard, especially for the greatness
that I did not ask
to be ****** upon me, while I wished to remain enigmatic.
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
Hero or Villain
Resident of
Heaven or Hell?
I could be the crooked cop
Or the innocent prisoner in jail
Which one?...Can you tell?
Batman-Superman
Lex Luther-The Joker
Pinky and the Brain
The whole world I’m taking over
An antagonizing protagonist
A mesmerizing foe
A friend of the enemy
So you better keep me close
I can save you
Or am I the reason
You need to be saved?
Are you comfortable with me?
Or do you sense
Your about to be betrayed?
Master or slave?
Forced to behave
Choose to disobey
Get laid to your grave
Arch-nemesis
There is no winning this
When the battle being fought
Is on my premises
I’m a fallen angel
Who has finally found his grace
How can you not believe
Such an honest face?
Hero or villain
Do I really have to choose?
I can be either/or
At the flip of a coin
What do I have to lose?
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 12:48 AM UTC
The hippos are boiled alive when the curious circus caught aflame.
Who is to blame? The drunkard clowns or the tightrope walkers and their ineffable fear of heights?
Maybe the ringmaster and all his lion taunting, crowd cheering, crowd antagonizing ways,
maybe he's to blame for releasing the bearded lady in a room full of kerosene and unseen wicker flames...
Or...just maybe, it was an accident and could not be prevented under the extraordinary circumstances
which took place on that fateful day where hippos became a poached soup of meat, teeth, and lard.
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 9:51 AM UTC
Catastrophic
Catatonic
Claustrophobic
Annihilation
One time salvation
Breakout of the contaminated
Destination of taxation without representation
Conspirator to predetermination
Bastardized paradox within a mind flux
Mentality of antagonizing accusations
A nine-cent flag now costing nine dollars
Fronting of the war effort while at home on a family vacation
Apr 25, 2011
Apr 25, 2011 at 6:21 AM UTC
I have lived in the shadows
Of the melancholy lie.
One that I have weaved
So many times.
I sharpen the needle,
That has sewn together our souls.
I shall stab it into your heart
And watch your eyes turn to coal.
I will shatter your heart
As you have done to mine.
Leaving you burdened,
Tortured by this crime.
Tears shall stream down
Your monstrous face,
As you realize a demon
Has taken my place.
But,
All of this talk is just a fallacy.
See,
What I really want,
Is it to be,
Just you and me,
Imprisoned by our antagonizing lust.
Never being able to trust.
Yet,
In constant obsession,
Possessive,
Of our undeniable love.
Being that there is no hope,
I shall make amends with my scapegoat.
Just wishful thinking
From this little girl.
Wishful thinking
That makes others curl.
Still,
It is wishful thinking
That keeps me alive.
Wishful thinking
That makes me want to die.
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 10:20 PM UTC
I feel worthless,
Like a body without bones,
I'm just a puddle of useless parts,
And my voice is just a drone.
No matter what I do,
Something good or bad,
I get yelled at regardless,
By both my mom and dad.
I get yelled at everyday,
And I cry every night,
But I'm too weak to put up a fight,
When I know it's just going to happen again;
Light or dark, it does not matter,
The yelling just never stops,
I wonder if it's all my fault anyway.
I need to know before my heart pops or bursts from this pressure.
As if school isn't already hell,
Just crawling through the hallways between the bells,
Harsh kids with even harsher words,
I shouldn't let it bother me, but it really hurts.
After years of antagonizing, the pain builds up,
And if I'd been drinking this suffering, It'd fill ten million cups.
This is just an under exaggeration,
Because the pain is worse than I can describe,
I don't want to live on this earth or have this life,
Pains that bring up the thought of suicide.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 11:08 AM UTC
Understanding
is something
that comes from
the daunting
reminder
that we are all the same
and it's not happiness
but the disheveled,
underpaid,
antagonizing
waiter
who launders around tables.
Being treated poorly
by people
that can't even
take the hands of time
to read the name
of a person that serves them life
the succulent roasted pork
with a side salad
or a bowl of broccoli soup
have more in common with
our suffering waiter
than the illiterate people.
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 5:09 AM UTC
this is the dwelling where wind is a bell and a beacon for death.
where youthful pursuit is punctured by family names or famine of fortune.
boys in bands buoyed by Onos and shared women.
lawyer fathers and social ***** mothers whose children are forbidden to **** up.
one street reserved and smothered by talking townsmen
whose belligerent brides keep tabs on their fellow middle-aged malicious
minded low-lifes
engorged in gossip are the parading fat men who rise early to feed off ones business capital tragedies
****** shortcomings of the stuck and single prey off tweens tweeting of body glitter and b-cups.
clique chick coquettes play house with their shiny image seeking male counterparts
who sing songs of their leather faced lady friends with plastic claws they now admit they would never marry
antagonizing cute couples secretly copulating with former loves' lust
only to mingle with conspirators molding to dominant thought
once a waitress always a waitress
with overdrawn bragging rights and unemployment checks
serving snobs like themselves who sip savignon
self-righteous polo popping perverts accompanying their prized play things
who join the charles river emigrants and stale french pastries
scouting the waste colored palace of prejudice.
now blades of winter draw months of blue blood
bringing forth frozen thoughts slowly dripping onto thawing skin.
another warm summer sun forthcoming
foreshadowed by this wind-chafing forlornness.
though i will fall in love again
and bridge rats will always be kings.
Apr 21, 2011
Apr 21, 2011 at 3:33 PM UTC
Without Peace We All Know Where We're Headed......
Give peace a chance, will those of nobility declare
Intelligence of spirit, who could ever compare
Valiantly fighting the evil in the world, unwilling to fail
Earnestly helping those needy, without ever becoming frail
Peacefully sacrificing time and energy without ever reconsidering
Endangering themselves to constantly make a difference
Antagonizing the establishment for an instance
Coming home with battle scars to wear and none to share
Emphasizing they are not heroes, only that "they care"
Angering all others, for showing they disagree
Considering the options with nowhere to hide
Hiroshima and its aftermaths, would never subside
Attempting to disrupt, what those warmongers insist
No necessity to justify, the results do persist
Coming full circle does our world continue to exist
Ending in oblivion, if we don't learn how to desist
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 8:50 AM UTC
It starts harmless a tickle in your toes
But then it goes up, to your shins
They get tense, ready to run
It goes higher, up your leg
Past your hips straight towards your gut
Then it becomes emotions not just a tingle
A mix of guilt, anger, and fear
It’s antagonizing, but it's not over
Next it travels to your chest,
Your breathing becomes strained, your heart beats faster
And faster, until you feel like you're running laps
Up your throat, you feel like you swallowed a golf ball
And like your throat will burst at any moment
Finally it reaches your head, your mouth
Your teeth start chattering
It reaches its goal
Your brain
You feel the emotions again
Guilt
Anger
And Fear
But this time they're much stronger
You don't know what to call it
So you simply call it
A Strange Feeling
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
My fiery red heart is in the darkness
Its beat is suffocating, it’s almost breathless
As every second goes by, it slows easily
And with it every cell, every atom cries for help, warily.
It’s fighting so hard every day and every minute for its survival
But I can’t help but feel even demise seems like a better call;
Oh dear hands of relentless agony,
release my heart, return my sanity.
Oh great hands that own me,
return the good part of life ever so willingly.
I'll go along my way, away from you,
Away from this tension to anything and everything new,
Anything that’ll replace this suffocating pressure!
Anything that’ll release me from this trap laid for me to suffer!
Oh tight grips of confinement, please,
From this disgusting displeasure- put me at ease.
Allow me the privilege to feel anything other than this
TORTURE, SADNESS, PAIN, I beg- open your fists.
Oh Great hands that tugs my fiery red heart,
Return it to me before I lose all my colour to this dark.
I plead to you Oh Great Hands that possess me;
Open your fists, release your grip, gently put me down and gracefully leave me be...
For everything and anything outside your existence isn’t that bad.
I just want returned to me all the innocence I once had.
Oh Great Hands of unhappiness, what do you want from me?
Have I not given you enough? What more could you possibly need? Love, maybe?
But I will never love you.
I can never love you.
I refuse to ever love you.
Oh great hands of antagonizing pain,
I’ll never see the true beauty of this life if you keep me this chained.
What is that? Your words aren't very clear!
Tell me if it's right- the words that I hear;
"Oh my precious, it is you who is the beholder of this chain.
It is you who’s holding on to something without healthy gain.
These grips have long released you from this displeasure ,
Oh my darling, it is you who is refusing to be free, refusing closure!"
Oh Great Hands that had me, return and bind me into this darkness where we once played,
bind me to you so at least I have someone to blame for this weight that never seems to fade.
Oh Great Hands that opened their fists, hold on to me and take me away from this world,
it’s not as beautiful as I thought, take me away and hide me like a pearl.
I swear I’ll not complain anymore, I swear I’ll not fight you, I swear I’ll love you.
I swear I’ll love you and all the pain you come with ever so blue.
Oh Great Hands, I beg you, please save me-----
From myself...
-fir.m
Mar 3, 2021
Mar 3, 2021 at 4:38 AM UTC
The many deaths I have endured, I cannot even count.
My soul has dried and cracked,
hardened to the core.
My heart has bled dry,
shedding itself of all life.
My spirit has withered
into a small dry stump of nothing.
My courage has collapsed
and shed into a million pieces.
My will has fled and left me
feeling worthless and useless.
My joy has become no more
than a distant memory of better times.
These things, these drastic things, these horrible times!
I have made myself discouraged and downtrodden.
What can I do? What can I say? What things can I do?
These deaths, these dreary and antagonizing deaths!
My love of life has hunkered down in dismay and is crying.
My free spirit has fallen prey to heavy chains of doom.
And these many deaths I have succumbed to,
With no chance of recourse!
Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 6:38 PM UTC
Why does everything have to be so perfect
for everyone?
all the time, every time.
see-it-to-believe-it
a blind man can see more
than we can.
we as in greedy,filthy,hungry,hypocritical,
antagonizing, walk-the-walk, and
talk-the-talk kind of society.
I've come to the realization,
that i am my own
and you are your own
worst enemy.
and i refuse to carelessly create a dependency
on the defected critic within myself.
I have a brain. I am sane.
Insanity is a fabrication of ones own ability
to ACCEPT, CONCLUDE, and CONVERSE.
so in turn the insane will confuse
their own reality for the worlds reality.
Can you imagine, adopting a word
and labeling yourself with it?
As if YOU were molded around IT.
Not allowing yourself to distinguish
this imaginative delusion from reality
By an opinion, not a fact
you have adopted and concocted within yourself
an imaginary abnormality.
which will never leave your mind
unless of course you will it to.
I was so sick. I was so hurt. I was damaged goods.
I was, I am. I I I I I I I
I stands for imagery which i get when i relate the word i
to myself. I envision two little mes' sitting a top each shoulder
influencing the voice inside my brain to do things.
Influencing the "control center" if you will.
But the thing is....
That's my conscious mind, not really me. Until i realized this, I had never felt more alone.
Under going this epiphany of sorts, this deep evolvement of my very soul,
I was drug out by the ankles, out of the very existence that i had come to accept as my own.
When I opened my eyes to discover the truth and beauty in life
i could perceive things differently, with clarity. Refreshing. I could
wake up with a smile. Not only tolerate but accept people and their habits. Converse with them as
if i had been connected in some meaningful way. And as I lay my head down to sleep, I allow myself to conclude
that I am me with all of my flaws, grammar mistakes and all. I am still who i want to and should be.
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 2:48 AM UTC
Poets do not work everyday
They write continually
But
To a poet
Antagonizing over paper
And word is life
And the words never cease!
Poets take obscurity
And slam it into reality
Like a ****
Simply
Growing out of the sidewalk
Is not just a ****
But a metaphor
It is almost maddening!
A love hate relationship
As cliche as they come
But poets carry on
And find hilarity in madness
And truth
When there is not much else
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 4:53 PM UTC