"aquired" poems
i like informality
beer straight outta the bottle
pizza for breakfast
wearing a shirt 3 times
before washing it
doing dishes by hand
reading old birthday cards
stayin up til 2
even though i have to be up at 8
bonfires
backroads
gettin lost on the way to a bonfire
because i took a backroad
going to a bar
on a tuesday night
and kissin a stranger
because i'm drunk
and lonely
and through the years i've aquired a taste
for whiskey on lips.
and.. wasn't that always the point?
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 12:34 AM UTC
In the ghetto
Huh they say you can be anything
You wanna be
So i joined the army
Notknowing that I'll still
Face tragedy and racism aint went no where
It feels ghostly evil stares
Of past scornful memories
They traded stock off the fields
And put us in the penitentiary
I got my first arrest in elementary
Just for being black on a sunday
Walkin' on a one way street
Preachers aint talking about that
Cuz they know theyll get lynched for that
Now they follow anything
And everything
That attracts money fortune and fame
You know the name?
We die more for the name of the father
Religion is ********
No matter whats coming out the puplits
They still gone ****
Think of you as a nigguh belittle
Troublesome and only good
For cheap labor
Be good and ya might get a penny raise
For good behavior
Still lookin' a savior?
That ***** been dead think abiut it
He died at 33 ?
Now ask yo self how many nigguhs
Died before 33? Ships full of slaves?
Lots of babies young men and women
Mothers fathers to sons n daughters
Two thousand fifteen and we
Still seeing slaughter ???
Can you see me running from the police
And we still think we run the streets
Peep game homies
Its no longer about racism
Its about us as a minority
Wither white black mexican or puerto rican
We all slaves
Payin' debts to society before we
Took our first ****
**** how could this be ?
My birth belongs to a bank industry
So all my real gangstas thugs to hustlers
Yea even wall street yall slaves too
Wake up the time is now
Gotta mind gotta use it
Or else these muthaphukkas will abuse it
This aint nothing new
Since the sun been shinin'
The same from beginning to end
The world was castedwith sin
There was darkness before light
Now that I'vegot the light
Its time to enlightened others
With the torch i aquired
Not long before ill be retired and life expired
For trying to reach for the truth
And many more
Live carefully
Cuz this is somethin' 2 die 4....
The ghetto!!!!
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 6:58 PM UTC
The flames were so high, Byron was fighting hard against them, to no avail."Megan"!,"Megan"!, screaming her name, he felt engulfed, and light headed.A thousand thoughts raced through his head, panic, seering pain with every breath he took, call an ambulance, Megan,s screams cut through him like lasers, she was trapped, scared, how must she be feeling right now?
Wood crackled, metal creaked, echos, lights, sirens!
Byron jumped, bolt upright in bed,"O **** SHIT",another nightmare, each one bringing his memory closer to what happened in their cottage they had built together.
Byron was working from Leeds, commuting to Killough, his favourite village in Ireland, well, it had to be, it's where he and Megan had met. He'd planned to run the architecture business from home.HA!, home, where was that?, he wasn't sure anymore.
As Byron strolled into the bathroom, turning on the shower he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.Almost forgetting the scars he had aquired from the fire, those visible reminders that his electrician was skimming from the funds, cutting corners, greedy little ******* The sight was gone from his right eye, and his face bore severe scarring right down to the collar bone. A small price to pay, at least he made it out alive.
He made a mental note to get back to Killough, this very night, to see Megans grave.He'd settle for anything, any reminder of Megan, she was slipping away from him, he couldn't have that, ever...another reason for moving to Killough.
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 7:11 AM UTC
Consumed by anger since a child
Enough to never make me smile
Surely darkness has been aquired
Still god sent me an a blue eyed angel in the night to keep me from fully falling
A loveless father and his child who both knew, better off if he was dead.
Loyalty to the mc club and on his stainless steel horse he can abide
Unconditional love is what a father is suppose to give his son.
Surely this foolish man is blind for I am here and I am alive.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 1:07 AM UTC
My jeans zip is popping
My body's gone crazy
Everyone is noticing
My memory's a bit hazy.
The once upright ******* are dropping
and these flushes aren't for stopping.
It's the hormones
That's what it's about
All around my middle
I'm getting more stout.
There's nowhere to hide
There's nowhere to run
My newly aquired mustache
And chin hairs are fit to stun.
I joined a club that weekly meet,
They tell me all the can't haves,
I just go home and eat.
Don't have this, don't have that,
I paid all that money just for a chat.
My feet are still the same size shoe
I could always buy them something new.
Time passes quickly, teenage years gone,
There's no more excuses to rely on.
The one about puppy fat ran out long ago,
So now it's time for a revamp
From head to toe...
© Hazel
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 3:28 PM UTC
DING - DONG
" this is a call to passengers traveling to Ithaka, by way of Kensal Green.
Please have your passports and tickets ready, to be seen".
So did I pack well for this adventure I 'm on,
do I really need the kichen sink I thought I 'd take along.
All those clothes to impress, suits, shirts, ties all layed
Where once all I carried , was a bucket and *****
Then my only foot-print was in soft gritty sand,
As I licked melting coned creamyness, that dripped on my hand
When every moment was filled with sun shine on skys powered blue
And even when grey, still the rainbow shone through
So leaving behind that tightly packed luggage, no room left inside,
But filled up with baggage, I'd aquired on the ride
Cluching my shoulder bag is all that I need, it seems
For tomorrow I 'll buy a new suit case and fill it, with new journyed dreams
DING --DONG
final call
Feb 28, 2011
Feb 28, 2011 at 4:08 AM UTC
you kissed me sideways
in the light of a harvest moon
and i never wanted to return to reality again
but i did
and it hurt
like a newly aquired broken bone
while trying to master the art of the monkey-bars
in a humid july
all those sunburned years ago
i never did learn
not how to fly from one bar to the next
not how to cartwheel into your heart
and certainly not how to be your definition of "beautiful"
i only learned how to define such a filthy word myself
so with skinned knees
and bruised shins
i climbed
up the ladder
into the sun
where i burned off my hardness
and my hurt
into the sun
where i shine
and find myself
finally
lovely as can be
this is me
the freckle-faced mess
who finds the gorgeous in every flaw
every snagged seam
every falling hem
it all just seems
so very human to me
and what a lovely way to be
in such an inhumane reality
let me show you just how pretty your crooked smile really is
let me teach you to find the magic of a broken heart
and a bruised ego
let us dance
together
to the tune-deaf sing-song of the world that we live in
let my eyes be your mirror
so that you'll never question your own worth
not again
every star shines its brightest
when there isn't a soul to be found
who is measuring their light
it's your turn to shine
just like the light of that rust colored harvest moon
so many moons ago
twinkle twinkle
my dear
May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 4:35 PM UTC
What if the war machine
was a tarnished memory
and the void between
the pillars
Why there is not contentment for the content
but and endless series
of Roman pillars inside celibate convents.
The pillars of the Panthéon are bars in a demented prison
fermented with the stench of a rancid batch
of torrid dreams.
A palace of pain an pleasure,
a hotbox of sin for the devil's leisure.
Leapt to every level of Dante's hell
and up again
No knowledge have I aquired,
but confusion, a quiet
illusion, and I am tired,
oh, so witheringly
tired.
"We are drawn to the concept of escape"
Nietzsche said.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
Dorothy Gale, all freckled and pale
Was asleep in her gingham print nighty
When a ****** great twister enveloped the vista
And blew like the good lord almighty
It ripped up the grass and it took out the glass
As it lifted the house from position
And a blow to the head from the post of her bed
Put young Dorothy out of commission
She awoke with a fright as she fell from a height
Landing squarely on somebody's gran
She emerged from indoors to a round of applause
And her journey had surely began
The people of Aus (because that's where she was)
Gave her hazy but helpful directions
She should hastily wander the road over yonder
To reach Tony before the elections
So she took to the road from her former abode
In her quest to get back to her folk
She aquired some mates, all in similar straits
Or the **** of a practical joke
A man made of straw was quite hard to ignore
With a lion quite lacking in guts
And a fella whose skin was constructed from tin
Held together with rivets and nuts
Such adventures they had, though I think you'll be glad
That I've cut to the crux of the rhyme
Where a meeting was set, their request would be met
To meet Tony in ten minutes time
They arrived and were greeted, quite comfortably seated
It was then Mr Abbott appeared
He regretted to say, to their growing dismay
That their wishes had not all been cleared
"As I haven't a heart" he was heard to impart
"then the tin man is leaving with jack"
"And I'm gutless as well" he was careful to tell
"So the lion can hurry on back"
"And I've also no brain, so it's no once again"
"But young lady, your problems are sorted"
"You'll be locked up off shore for a month, maybe four
"And by christmas, we'll have you deported"
By Ben the Poet
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 8:05 PM UTC
2/18/2015
it's the place reeking of Valentino
samples,
I got the date twice wrong today and
lou reed shouts while they pluck
their eyebrows by summer aquired mirrors in February,
two dollars at the yard sale
dig it?
"But she never lost her head
even when she was givin' head"
and she says,
Hey babe take a walk on the wild
side
the girl with the samples and her
Friends are all like:
"can I borrow a shirt?"
She plucks her eyebrow In a very
manner,
The manner being she calls strangers
Mister mister like an orphan
mister mister care to spare change? or maybe a party invite?
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 3:08 PM UTC
Every smile is to be paid double its weight in pain, paid outright and full before intrest is gained. I escaped depressions grasps for first 12 years of my life. Someone forgot to tell me what i owe, now i dont mean to seek pitty with my tale of missery and woe. But it seems some nights the devil takes a certain interest in my crimson eliqour of life. he to just wants to see it pour from my veins flow like silk down my leg and hear me say.. nothing.. no cry for help in fear someone would notice the scars i cover with my pair of jeans. Some say its in that that i aquired such a lovely taste a hatred for myself. Others have told me to get over it, everyone feels depressed sometimes, but most nights i dont see the light my path is a foggy stormy night sailing without the stars you can not tell me its the same and im the one who should lay the blaime on myself for letting it get this bad.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
so sweet we were when we were children
yet now so bitter we are
existing as the words on the tips of our tongues
admiring the shadows of trees
cast upon our pale bodies
beneath the pale moon
that bottle could be bigger
as we beg for more silence
I feel as a vampire in the quiet
as I listen to the beat of her heart
churning her poisoned blood
expanding her veins
and raising her skin
from somewhere underneath-
fire
within fire
fermentation
of soul
and it becomes inviting
as I have aquired a taste
for Hell
and my lips are warm
and pulsing
loose like a wild flame
melting into-
teeth biting
and it is like the old man said
with no words
only wisdom
and blood on his lips
it bleeds out from me
like the raging seas
comanding stories
of ancient mysteries
only seen
by those who lost their words
"Do not waste"
she says,
as she notices the red
trickling down my lips
"Drink"
she says
and of course,
I do
just as one
bleeds their own blood-
with the sweet smile
of when I was a child
who had first undestood
what it meant to drink-
of course,
I do
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 2:18 PM UTC
A dysfunctional suburban family just after Rance has lost the man who was his father. After 10 yrs of depression following tragic loss of wife; he had in effect, become the
Man upstairs that Rance had cared for and enabled since he was 15.
Now he was going to los Angeles
He's 25 ,an aspiring writer and armed with a nice , newly aquired self contained R.v his dog stormy and a thirst for the knowledge that a 6 week drive from east Tennessee will bring .
Rance , Stormy and their best friend Macy go for a mid-week 3 day wilderness trip to work out the bugs.
----------- ---- ------------
All too soon it was friday morning; approaching noon, as we sat there at our campsite. Neither of us having uttered more than twenty words since we.had finished breakfast.
Neither of us; including my dog Stormy, was ready to re-enter that door we had exited two days earlier, but -due to the fact that nothing lasts forever-' the red light had turned to green , the second hand had once again started its ominous tick, tick, ticking and nobody can continue to sit at the stoplights forever ; avoiding the inevitable move ,whether forward , right or left into the flow of traffic.
Sooner or later someone or something will push up behind to honk the horn or gun the motor. Then the only thing to do is move or throw up a finger. Though; at that point--with finger or no finger thrown to the approaching fates, the moment is lost-'the future looms as that clock unrelentingly shuffled on its inevitable grind.
So we reluctantly packed up; taking us one -- long, slow, -- last look around ,as if we could actually see what it was that we were leaving behind. Then slowly and solemnly we made our way back through that door. TICK TOCK-'TICK--TOCK -- TICK.......!
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 10:41 AM UTC
My home ran way
Now I sit were glass meets the frame at the window and wait.
How long has it been
Years?
Weeks?
I'm not sure I care.. I'm not sure I don't
The mountabank came round again
Selling me a fictitious love.
His love.
You see, sense he travels so much selling the good oils
of
Rosemary tilled out of our toilet, Powders that
I personally
made from the stalagmites that grow in the southwest corner of my dwelling,
and
Teeth whitener
scraped from off only the finest ingredients
of
Feets calus, the kind aquired after walking long enough to no longer need shoes.
No he had no time for me and besides, he wasn't my home.
I'd have my fun but... He could never hold my love.
Yesterday I passed away
The cold nothing
Became a greater threat this time
I didn't have my home
Nor my love
I wasn't ready to go.
In a dank cave somewhere in the Philippines
After the hair on my head grew from fire red
To silver white.
Still sitting where the glass meets the frame.
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 4:39 PM UTC
Shallow skin and muttered secrets between breaths filled with fear, are what my dreams consist of. Bright moons during the day but my mistakes fill the craters. Feeling short; synonymous to TNT whilst strutting, looking for answers to questions I can't even comprehend. A smile is toothless that tells unrequited jokes to my tongue but its all a façade. The Scenes are covered by the curtain and the stage gets spit on when I walk through the door. Numbers of maybes and probablys are my friends on one hand. Blankets that aren't machine washable will forever smell like how your skin did that night. I am forced to sleep with your memory up my nose. My eyes want to jump out their sockets especially in the morning because they want to be forever closed. But closed is a trap. A trap because I see your bedroom ceiling and your mouth pursed next to my ear while I lay; moving slightly for hours. A trap because I see signs I should've acknowledged.
An unnoticeable I Love You.
But I don't even want you anymore.
What's a need anyways?
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 2:54 PM UTC
The pain kreeps up his body,
not from physical damage,
He sits in the room with others,
but they are unaware of it.
He feels like he is dancing,
though he's not moving to the eyes of other men,
Misery as his companion,
she'll dance with him to the end.
They all play fool,
to the pain he feels within,
Noone can see the harm,
doing fine he makes it seem to them.
But while the others are dancing,
he stares at a single candle,
watching the flames flickering,
The misery he can't seem to handle.
When he is approached,
his dull face forms a smile,
They try to make small talk,
but it doesn't seem worthwhile.
In the corner of the room,
with a rain cloud above his head,
he's the only one who can see it,
and wishes he was dead.
He glances all around,
watching through the crowd,
finds a pair of eyes,
that are as dark as the midnight sky.
These eyes he found,
he knew they didn't belong to any mortal,
though they all play fool,
to this woman who joins them in the circle.
Everywhere he moves,
so does the woman,
as if he is playing a game,
of hide and go seek.
He searches through the entire house,
to find an isolated room,
One where he'll be alone,
where he cannot be disturbed.
As he sinks into an armchair,
that lovingly faces a warm fire,
he still feels the cold,
that he from misery aquired.
As he slowly into his thoughts drifts,
closing his eyelids,
When all was quiet so it seemed,
The man slowly began to dream.
There in his dreams he did find,
the same woman with the dark eyes,
She held out a hand as if to dance,
thought did the man now was his chance.
Accept her hand he did and began to move,
swaying gently around the room,
his hands on her hips lovingly embraced,
a warm smile was upon her face.
Without any music they danced romanticaly,
Just each other is all they would need,
The man thought this was so perfect,
Surely something he would never forget.
In reality he laid on the floor,
people all around him watching in horror,
The mans body violently shook,
His heartbeat racing as everyone looked.
People there questioned his actions,
Was it insanity or human body reactions,
Was this man going to be alright,
would he make it through the night?.
Back in his dreams he was still dancing,
Though his heartbeat was dangerously rising,
then leaned in the woman to kiss,
and together perfectly they locked lips.
Now laying on the floor is the man,
Whose heartbeat has sadly come to an end,
Though they never knew the reason why,
There in the corner of the room, was the woman with the dark eyes.
by ~Lucien Freeman
Dec 6, 2011
Dec 6, 2011 at 1:27 AM UTC
Be a happy girl, be a nice girl, echoes in your head
Making you never rest
Be a modern girl, a hungry girl, want, want, want
Feed yourself, and you'll be set
Be happy girl, be a nice girl
Screaming in your head
You're dead, you're dead, you're dead
All I needed was to be fed
fed the love, nurture, that every sociopath
Dreads
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC
I feel the darkness slowly creeping in as I cry out for you embrace but my cries fall upon deaf ears. The darkness takes hold... I weep and plead for your attention and affection but still you turn your cheek and allow the darkness to take hold of me. The sickness that ails me has becomes my demise as the darkness drags me furthur into its lair. All I wanted was your embrace, to be held with true wand and compassion. Now that you have shunned me so fiercely, I fear this day the darkness has aquired my sanity once more.
Sep 19, 2011
Sep 19, 2011 at 4:16 AM UTC
She fell without warning,
Time taking as it must, as it should.
And despite how the living grieve,
All exist to be taken, to move on
The histeria began,
Sister falls into a panic, foresight disguised as a dream.
Reality blends into inevitability.
The then was now.
Brothers stare silent, too young, too afraid,
And unable to escape their crippling fear,
That Death had come.
Her eyes, flickered as a fading flame,
Dying at the wicker's last breathe.
Her hands shook violent, as empty words poured through her head.
A son, me, the eldest, emboldened within this moment to take control.
She was leaving this world.
That much I knew.
But there exist that Dark Magic.
That abilities of the ******
Aquired through years of suffering.
Not one's own, but the tears of life,
Gained from tormented innocents.
And such a power, in such a moment,
Was ultimately released.
Simple as a touch.
Death decays into Life.
She breathes, a mother returns.
Yet, I am burdened.
Weighed down by,
The scorn of my own corruption
Infused light.
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 5:54 PM UTC
I live vividly without visibly having the ability to live willingly nor the versatility to fight your volatility. Unequivocally I believe in relativity but unofficially I use negativity as a means of self-sufficiency. Naturally I have a proclivity towards acting predictably when publicly judging turbidity. Additionally I hide in anonymity and indignantly ignore my epiphany of the asymmetry of unanimity. Shamefacedly I turn to your intricate dystrophy and observe the futility of my soliloquy. I can' find nobility in dying deliberately, but it shows efficiency in skimming humanity. Initially my hostility was untangible but it has suspiciously aquired solidity and is now intermittently sending signs of my eccentricity. My alkalinity is running low because surreptitiously the pungency has grown. I am undoubtedly peripheral to the society and irresistibly disposable in the industry of this idiosyncrasy.
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 5:50 AM UTC
I miss feeling wanted.
Back when I knew I was desired,
Before I turned into someone who was acquired.
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 10:51 PM UTC
Obtuse viewpoints, Stubborn stance,
Opinions forced through sword and lance,
Global resource aquired by few,
Position ripe to start anew.
It was an evolutionary error in forming us,
Who would rather destroy than sit and discuss,
Politics veil callous actions,
Malice in control to divide us to factions,
Through fear of nothing we bow and plead,
Bow to maleavolant control and greed,
Voices silenced through censored press,
Undress the rest through turmoil and stress.
Vulnerable and prone under dissaproving tone,
Awaiting decision from somebody grown,
Like children we stand without power or say,
Shoved to the side as if we are in the way.
The world we live in is one of lies,
Of muffled madness and silenced cries,
Of endless worry and pitiless masters,
Forced on a road of inevitable disasters.
To unite we must destroy our borders,
Imaginary lines that seperate and herd us,
Combine our knowlege and minds and hearts,
Share what we know how did at the start.
In our past we have stood united,
One world we stood our senses hightened,
Our magic grew through science and prayer,
Even they were one, like water and air.
Although we are told civilization is new,
We are being lied to as we have been all through,
Because only whilst our power is harnessed,
Can we be controlled by the few and unfairness.
This world is as much ours as theirs,
So take a stand and let you be heard,
We wont bend to oppressive will,
Weather they say its to save or to ****
Stand together stand as one,
Rise our standard and faces to the sun,
Praise yourself you are your true messiah,
Only like this can we raise ourselves higher
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 9:32 PM UTC
I woke up at 6:30 next to a working man
with no desire of wine
By 6:45 the silk blanket for coating my pain
had became an inquired taste.
A desired taste
Still, no.
Not yet
I sat up with a heavy heart at 10
Why does he do this to me?
His curls and scars became
an aquired taste
Tasting him is of what love tastes
But no
Not yet
I sat there at 10
I sat there at 10 with a pain
Should I dare touch the cork?
I had the pallet for the silk
I had the time for the smooth
Still, no
I sat there at 10:30
It was blunt
It wasn't beautiful
It was an empty question
A double dagger to my body
Which is the addiction
Which is the murderer
Which holds my conviction
He is home at 4
It's 5 o'clock somewhere
Now
I can touch
I can taste
A trembling had reaches for love
But did the glass touch finger tips
Before he would
Both are such a riddle
It's twisted with disease
One moment my heart is infatuated
The next my broken body bleeds
It's about to be 6:30
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 1:55 PM UTC
Forever intended to circle but never trace the puckered skin of my aching lips
Untasted you take away from all that is beauty as my mind chooses unwitting ly to coalesce upon the ghost of you
There is no life sufferable without you in it, no cause too great to overcome yet there is a flaw,
For our loves gain double an equal measure must be afforded lost, For there in lives its worth. Oh my dearest love, as selfish as I pray I need to be, can only reek of compassion thus,
You **** me softly every smile, every soulful look, every sweet word veiled with bitterness
an aquired taste for those addicted to love's misdirection
The outline for my sweet destructon,
And you my favourite design.
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC