"arr" poems
Before you talk behind my back
Know, that I am a human being
So are you
Surely, I am
flawed, messed up, broken, scarred
but I bet, so are you
You and I arr very different,
whether I know you, or not,
whether you know me or not
my ***** laundry, is mine
and so is yours
and I bet that you wouldn't like it if anyone
anyone
aired your laundry without your knowing
or approval
or created laundry, that was not even there
your jealousy, is not my problem
your anger isn't either
surely, i understand
people react in different ways
but please,
before you go around talking behind my back
know that i am human
that i have feelings
and i bet you do too
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 11:04 AM UTC
Spoon is car yellow air,
Taste the run run bare.
Lie, lied, liar, stare,
Swoosh, arr... I eye dare.
Seven ate nine,
Do you want green legs and lamb?
Stop pew pew mue mu ahh.. ****
I am not a cat but a mue mu ahh... ****
Why are you still reading this crap?
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 9:59 PM UTC
me amd me ded arr heppie
wee plai calll ob dutie togeter
hourr favoorit movee id het fozz
wun dai he sai to mi
hoedw olds arrr yyou
i sai i an 176 h3 sai wen i *** urag i
*** 177
it mak noo sensse too mre
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 2:24 PM UTC
Crackling. Rocking. Crackling. Creaking and oscillating, a century old Mahogany Wood seceded to the paSsage of time.
Particles of sand, confounded by the Peninsula’s chaotic, blasting breeze now revealed a shade of burnt tar.
Outside of the second floor Maissonette, sways the rocking chair once warmed by Grandpa.
A Tactless, impatient, rhythmic Requiem Bashes near the wiNdow pane as the sunset falls Under the frame.
Empty Folklore presides like the Residue of a once lambent effigy… SwOosh. Hush!
Cocktails were a Preamble to lunch like diabetes to Nephropathy.
Corrosive Rhetoric seeped in to expose the ego of a Sommelier.
A smile would Parachute down when you needed it like Nicotine to remind that no Precedent had been set, just an Anomaly.
Cutthroat beginnings, this was no Analog man.
In grade school his Cosmos found Zion and “The world to come”.
This baby’s Cradle, abandoned High atop a mountain was blown by a Chinook towards the Atlantic.
“I was found swallowed in a stained Table cloth by Balkan children on a treasure hunt, with no Guarantee and no resignatIon. "
The boTtle narrates these chronicles and a smile parachutes down when you need it like nicotine.
Dionysus Crafted his accounts while most Garnered his spiels with Snide. As they witnessed dream remembrance; he thought his memory was Presumably accurate, and although his tales were triFling to the gathering audience, they became his Heliocentric history.
Calling me a young Galleon and handing me a map, Grandpa scanned his hand across the vast land
guaranteeing trEasure would be found if I had no resignation.
This Asinine assertion to my teenage sister Symbolized the Barring of her unheeding imagination by time and then a smile parachuted down just when she needed it like nicotine.
_TRF
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 11:13 AM UTC
Papa ka office se ghara aana
Bhag kar unke pass jana
unke samne masumiyat se apne hath ko failana
yad karte ** n, jara soch kar batana
Dosto ko roj naye ajib-ajib namo se chidhana
Bhai-Bahan ko bina bt satana
School na jane ka roj naya bahana
Chupke se dusro ka lunch box kha jana
yad karte ** n, jara soch kar batana
Andhere se darkar maa ki aanchal me chup jana
Papa ki kandho par baithkar mele me jana
Khilono ke liye jid P arr jaana
Choti choti galtiyon par maa ka thapki lagna
Yad karte ** n, soch kar batana
Na tension thi duniya ki,
na tha paisa kamana
Kya the bachpan ke bhi din
jaisa mano Sare khushiyo ka fasana
Yad karte ** na, jara soch kar batana
May 22, 2020
May 22, 2020 at 3:59 AM UTC
we know how those doctors about to retire type:
index punch, index punch, left hook index tap,
brawler's right kiss index tap -
thumbs are for the spacebar!
but this little oddity got me thinking: i can tell
you that my grandfather had beautiful handwriting,
and a massive library, and all of this... under
a communist regime... more books than
the modern capitalist household, let me tell you -
oddly enough i followed suit, never truly recognised
my father aged eight at victoria coach station -
4 - 8 under my grandfather's construct -
6 - 8 psyche of a child given a doberman by
his mother and left, upon return asking
for a devil's mask in warsaw, the same devil
mask a furore at a fancy dress party in school
ripped by friends all wanting the share of
suffocating under plastic.
but this got me thinking, i never had the
proper handwriting fluidity for an A grade in
english during examination, that's always a grade
more than anything you put your mind to
in terms of content. so... on handwriting fluidity:
omega alpha beta flows nice, because the greeks
managed to convene that letters had to
have names, no wonder the export of greek lettering
into mathematics and science...
imagine if it was the romanic letters:
that's *** arr squared: peeing on the arc of triumph
seeing sqaures?! bonaparte with a bunch of pirates?!
no! πr2, the area of the ****** circle!
never mind that, that's just me overstepping
the giggles, but i think because of the non-complex
denotation of the romanic letters we have terrible
handwriting, just like it sounds, punched in by dyslexic
judy separately: look - a' b'e c'e d'e e' z'ed.
no wonder the alphabet turned to programming
and cyborg fancies - plus it's no fun trying to remember
alpha bravo charlie... i mean, it's a bit **** that nato
phonetic ******** over the phone: oscar v. ω?
ω! romeo v. ρ? ρ! sierra v. σ? σ! let's face it, greek
too ancient and romanic trying to speed up... no wonder
there's a bit of charlie and the x-ray;
or maybe this whole phoneticism is a way to say -
keep that ugly so we can lego it into beautiful stances
of the fencing tongue.
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 12:15 PM UTC
Everything I write is letters.
Letters to my future self,
my past self
my conscious mind from my unconscious mind
letters to dead friends
letters to living friends I can’t speak aloud to
letters to god
letters to everyone all at once
letters to you.
Everything I write is letters
ell
ee
tee
tee
ee
arr
ess
A book is made of letters the same way a body is made of atoms
letters make words
like atoms make molecules
and molecules make cells make tissues make organs make bodies
and then fire breaks us back down to atoms
to ashen dust
So try to see the individual letters
because that’s all we ever were,
anyway
bodies built of grains of sand
books built of letters.
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC
- Stay away plagiarizers - (ß?)
and who the **** would want
to plagiarise you?! i'm guessing nobody,
let's become serf-like ignoble,
let's keep this capitalism afloat....
oh, got the feelings awry?
can't mix the Koran
with capitalism... someone's
bound to suffer with, or without
the Royce Rolls...
you better be awake
when testifying for Moroccans
as equivalent of Napoleon
taking a **** on the throne of thrones
and tongue waggle and **** to boot...
as the Led Zeppelin immigrant song,
i just keep conjuring Genghis Khan...
and we're done when the horde erects
a cranium pyramid of skulls at Baghdad....
we didn't come to these islands as *******
we came here as Williams...
the Muslims could teach donkeys a half trot
to what we were establishing,
and it wasn't pretty, we were disgruntled with
expectancy lost along the way...
the Muslims could teach them post-colonialism,
so they agreed, crafting a new India
and prayers for the Hijab preserved...
they teach me one more ************* time
i'll start preaching with agile pursuit, duping
their endeavours for an Ian Fleming novel and why
spies have no regard for a C.V.,
never mind the hope for a person who might provide
me a suicide vest:oh sure i'm tickling
the authorities... i want them to spy on me...
i want them to become paparazzi:
when the two parties mingle we get comparative swoons:
Lucifer and Icarus.
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 9:20 PM UTC
I know we've lost emotions
We've reached a higher level of interaction but it takes more than time to
show our emotion in emoticon
Like laughter is just a click away
72 different reactions all a smile face while we blindly display these and somehow still feel out of place
We arr more than signs
Emojis and emoticons
A higher of communication
And somehow it still gets lost in translation
This
Is
Just
A
Miss
Under
Standing
But im sitting dowb typing out how i feel without a doubt
I
Feel so
Lowkey
And empty
I must send
Lmao's and emojis
So shorty
Can know me
For
Me
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 2:06 AM UTC
evri dai weni *** hom i say ello too mi famulee
dey sai hii bak
i an prowd perent
if i hav mi 909t cild i well be appie
wen i goo to slep i drem of mi famelie
wre arr habingg a jood tiem
eeting luch in de prak
ssomany appy memores
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 12:21 PM UTC
You were trying to cover your footprints in the sand
and only ended up leaving more
a spiral of your perfectionism
look over there -
over the beach houses on stilts
and the fauna - scrap metal bushes and dry, lonely trees -
see how the sun’s kiss sets the sky on fire?
the water is licking our heels with an icy, arctic tongue
we could walk westwards until our silhouettes are vaporized
but the sand is relaxed and this beach is empty
the acoustic guitar is talking in its sleep
ADD children are doing backflips in the backyard
Night crashes and crashes and recedes into the horizon
we climbed atop one another with visions of lunar satisfaction
time slows down and each drop of condensation on the window
contains the secrets of this muggy southeastern air
the strangers are encroaching too thick to think
warped monstrous faces ripe with desire
we couldn’t answer the questions so we burned the test
tinder to our fire so we could ward off the predators for another night
but the ground is growing smaller day by day
Mr. Demon do not deviate from this round of double dutch
my shoelaces are tied together
and I am hopelessly drunk off of your ideas on romance
that mix of sunscreen, sweat, perfume, and your breath
as my fingers prune
we mistook the blinking jet engine for morse code from the stars
once the clouds part we will have an escape route
taking flight with the startled panic of street birds
the earth will shake, the seas boil over, and the clouds will applaud
with wings made of coat hangers, brown paper bags, and masking tape
we will arr through the sky
like fireworks
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 1:55 PM UTC
Oi, Manchester, why are you so blue?
You built it all, there is nothing you can't do.
We were here first and we will be here last,
Our future is bleak? Well, so was our past.
We've had more than our share of ups and downs,
Aye, it's grim up north, but every class needs its clowns.
Oi, Manchester, chin up arr kid,
If they ask you who built it, you tell 'em we did,
We built this city with rock and roll,
Through rain and shine, with northern soul,
The only thing we never built was a great northern wall,
We invited each people and we welcomed them all.
Manchester, mate, things will get better,
Mother nature tries beat us but we've never let her,
No matter the odds or how savage their action,
We are the great power house, we never lose traction.
Each time we're knocked down we rebuild from the ashes,
we shoulder each other, we each take lashes.
Oi, Manchester, don't you forget your station,
We are the heart, we are the brain and the spine of a nation.
It was here we split the atom, and here where Rolls met Royce,
Swing those monkey arms and sing your Mankey voice
Be proud, be loud, there's no need to tiptoe,
And always remember that WE created VIMTO.
Oi, Manchester, I don't 'alf miss THAT smile,
It's the whole hog, the bees knees, the best by a mile,
There will be a day when we all laugh again,
Brighter, more hopeful, more promising then,
There will always be dark before the dawn,
But, oi, this is manchester, where all dreams are born.
Dec 27, 2020
Dec 27, 2020 at 9:32 AM UTC
You looked good up against that night club wall
It was half past 3 maybe quarter to 4
The black velvet tights
The cropped up hair
The short t-shirt
The 'I see through you' stare
I couldn't see you
It was getting foggy in the car
Turn down the heating
Arr there you are
I didn't know how to approach
What shall be said
I'm a middle aged man
Should be tucked up with my wife in bed
I shouldn't be fondling around in the shadows
************ on steering wheels
What am I doing - what the **** am I doing?!
Maybe a drive by
A wink of the eye
Get the back seat love
We'l be there in 5
But I don't know and I never really have
Always wanted to know thou been feeling sad
Sick of repetition
The food that I eat
The ***** that I drink
The things that I speak
Why has it come to this
A car park full of mist
Looking for things that I'v already missed
I'l be heading back then
To the wife and kids
And that little Shiatsu dog that I'd rather not exist
But it makes my wife happy and that's all that really matters
Whether I'm changing the nappies or getting rid of the clappies
Its all that really matters
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 8:31 PM UTC
Suddenly I realized "I have arrived".
I have arrived in a place that only the hands on a clock can carry you (willingly or not).
Then it placed my feet on the ground to look around and behold this new thing called "certainty".
How can I explain this arr.
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 3:36 AM UTC
Hyphenate thy walking ground, your thy hunger of slumbered town's, you fenced in doer!!! You rider of wild waves, homogenous to honeycomb's taste of thine hydrogen of implorations!!! Impotent words turn potent to imply further instruction,
Farther corruption comes,
Easier the raindrops flow!
Idle all your masteries to thine miseries,
Your sorceries likely unknown!!
I'm impoverish beyond belief,
Beyond thy receipts of studded diamond jewelry I have found!!!
Manifest questor,
You fancy and plain dresser's,
Arr thou lucratively winning?
Or art thou just beginning to lounge into modernized gain?
Marauders bones turn to sauder,
As Mardi gras is now the countries front page...
Marvel martyr's so penitent to past and present sin!!!
Pensioner's live in penthouse,
While ourn world copes to its end.....
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 9:16 AM UTC
riverrun past eve and adam so
fast it tossed up my chainmail
vest. For a second it shone my
tattered back battle scars.
I’m not one to reminisce
about bad times but the fish
I had wrangled had rattled so fierce
I bell fack-boreward into the fox
of fishing hooks.
Dangling pirate hands shredded
sails salty water waves filled my
whales -- “ARR ME BACK”
The fish cackled and got away.
The boat was in the Abiquiu river, a ways away
a way a lone a last a loved a long
the riverrun
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 8:11 PM UTC
Arr you the one,
the one that can and will
comfort me in times of hardship,
the one that will dry my tears?
Are you the one,
the one that will make me happy,
the one that will make me feel good
instead of hurt me?
Are you the one,
the one that will give me a chance with you,
the one that will give me a time of day?
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 12:31 AM UTC
You my sweet angel your mine im yours you have me i have you toghether we are one we can do anything "your the sun to my shine" we are lovers your my sweet sweet angel your my sugar im nothing we have diffrences but we can do it we are impossible to take apart we are bonded we are one soul we are one your my angel and nothing will take us apart we can get through the hard and enjoy the easy we can walk on water or run through lava we are together im you sun your my shine we arr the impossible but easy
Love you my special angel.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 10:10 PM UTC
What looked like a lookalike
actually looked nothing like me.
I found an English station
in a sea of wavelengths
and tuned in.
ah,
comfort is the spoken word
when
speaking of tectonic plates
saturated fats and monosodium glutamates
and beggars cannot appear to
be choosers so I settled myself down
on the wooden chair and ran through
several stations
waiting for the morning there.
I was still thinking about the lookalike
like I had nothing else to do?
and why was I with the keenest eye
almost fooled?
It's about the choices and paths that we take,
dawn
is the perfect time to make comparisons
but
not the time for regrets.
I found coffee,
it's possibly pirated
arr..
..and now I'm set for what this day brings.
Later
although not measured by a yardstick
I
picked grapes with Jose for red wine and
rosé
nothing's ever that bad except in the dark.
And later still
in town for a fiesta
oranges and octopi
drinking
concoctions made by
someone called
Mordecai as unlikely as
that sounds.
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 2:24 PM UTC
We wait for you
--
We wait
•
All the hell in the world around
••
Still
--
All the love and the lovers now
--
We wait
••
We wait for you
------
Wait and wait
••
Put down your pain for a while
--
It won't go
Nowhere
-- you can always have it back again-
•
Put down your pain for a while
••
And we'll see
Who you arr
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
Why did we stop here?
How did I get here?
I always rebuked slavery....
no I didn't earn any money for my flesh
the ones who set me up and pushed me here
did
I never saw any of the movies I never consented to
when I was spiked with delirants
and pushed into a room
with a bunch of misogynists
the only reason i performed
my superconscious mind remembered what you did last time
when i was 4 or 5 or 6 years old
how could the slapped child articulate that
now can you give it arr rest ?
Jan 31, 2023
Jan 31, 2023 at 3:23 AM UTC