"assing" poems
one a day until they all go away
that is how this mean girl plays
them hips, that swagger,
with ******* and moans,
drag-assing with pathetic groans
suspend not, your disbelief,
I don't need you to believe in me,
I'm tried, tested, true,
Been through the thick of it,
Came out, through and through,
I don't need no guff, no trouble,
No one standing in my way,
I want my adventure,
to say what I say.
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
******
I can't get this together.
Everything is falling apart.
Life is losing its meaning and I can't fix it.
******
Time is truly against me and I can't change it.
I'm losing it. I'm losing it.
........ I can't get it.
I lost. I'm utterly defeated.
I'm done. I'm through. This world is just going to spit me up.
I already know it.
I'm alone on this.
I might as well leave everyone.
Whoa there sparky.
Time to calm yourself.
Firstly, breathe.
You can do this.
You have everything and I mean EVERYTHING you need.
All the resources and equipment are sitting in front of you.
Your life, is just at a fork in the road.
Like Robert Frost, "Take the road less traveled by. It'll make all the difference."
Secondly, grab a Coke from the fridge, eat an apple, watch a movie.
You've been through worse remember?
The world is trying to break you.
It's done it before, but never again.
You made a promise to yourself remember?
You were going to seize all opportunities and stop half-assing everything.
THIS IS ONE OF THOSE OPPORTUNITIES!
Do not back down! Not on this.
Grab the world by its ear and yank until it submits.
You! Got! This!
Thirdly and most importantly,
Be patient.
All of these things that you do have a way of working out.
You've noticed it. I know you have.
Be patient with yourself.
You are your own worst enemy.
And you know who's stronger.
It's time to do this.
Get up, breathe, get creative.
Time is nothing now.
It will come to your side when you're winning.
Hey bro........ it's time.
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
there are no words
for the way my ski
n electrifies when y
our smoke wraps ar
ound our bodies and
sends shivers down m
y spine because you a
re trickling your finge
rs down my ribs and s
ometimes i can not hel
p but think about how
blood felt trickling dow
n my wrists and by the
time you came around
i was so far gone that i
'm more than surprised
about how someone wh
ose smile is always six m
iles wide could love some
one who wants to be bur
ied six feet under and if i
lost the chance to tell you
that i love you, then i don
;t know where i would be
and if i make my bed in a
grave before you do i hop
e you never pick up the bo
ttle again and try to find s
olace because we both kno
w that anesthetics are neve
r any different from poison
s and if your nerve endings
remember my touch and y
our breath gets short but h
eavy when you think you j
ust got a text from me but
you remember that the te
xt will never come; i want y
ou to know that i love yo
u and that you can make it
through anything and if yo
u do just one thing in my r
emembrance then i want y
ou to never ******* drink
my taste away because no
matter how strong you se
em i still think that my p
assing will make you a lit
tle uneasy and a little diff
erent maybe and i wonde
r if you'll cry anywhere c
lose to as much as i used t
o cry on a nightly basis a
nd will you sneak out an
d walk down to the stop
sign where we exhaled a
nd inhaled smoke and we
held each other and ****
man when i laid on the as
phalt i still wished a car w
ould come speeding by e
ven though that's so ****
ed up and this isn't even a
poem it's just a ****** up
story but if you ever love
d me at all, you won't pi
ck up the bottle- you wo
n't take a shot even if it m
eans remembering the tr
igger.
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC
Happy birthday,
by the way.
I just thought I’d write to you,
since I never really did
It’s been two years now
two complete rotations around the sun
since you died.
I probably think about you every week-
believe it or not,
you changed my whole outlook on life
But I’m sorry to say it didn’t happen until you left.
I think about you every time I leave the house in the morning
I think about how sudden it was
and how that happens every day to all kinds of people
even you.
I think about you every time I say goodbye to anyone
especially if the person I’m saluting is getting into a car
and when I say goodbye
I say it as heartfully as I can
and I hope that maybe they’ll realize that I’m saying
“I love you”
and “please, for the love of god, drive safely.
please.”
all in one word.
Because if I said it openly like that they’d all think I was totally mental.
I’m not mental.
I’m just a lover and a fighter
who lost something he didn’t even think he had the option of losing.
I think about you when I hug
anyone.
because you never know.
and hugs are not ever worth half-assing.
ever.
So maybe I lied.
and maybe I actually think about you multiple times a day every day of my life.
not consciously i guess.
but I can tell you for certain
that your absence is felt
in one way or another
every
day
of my life.
I wish I could have learned these lessons without losing you.
but you went all the same
and here we all are.
anyways happy birthday.
Miss you.
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 3:16 PM UTC
if my tongue was as good with words as my fingers on the keys
there would be no need for me to write this half assed poetry
Mar 24, 2011
Mar 24, 2011 at 8:19 PM UTC
Grab a hand
There are many searching for yours
reach down,
your hand will find nothing in the clouds
pull them
the sky is blue because of you
you yearn
but asked for it to be easy
but help
and you will find it reciprocated
see them
so much potential if only they had you
bring happiness
theirs will bring yours
smile wide
there's no reason for half-assing it
dont worry
not all rewards are immediate and when they are hard
cry loud
what did i say about half-assing
but hope
because it's all just a wheel and you will be back on top
dont fret
you'll be just fine
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
To A STRANGER
by: Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
ASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
☆TRIGGER WARNING☆
Stop shaking
Maybe you didn't press hard enough
So the bleeding will stop after an hour
And you’ll only be left feeling light-headed
Proving that you didn't have it in you
Try harder
If you want to commit ******
You have to commit to it
There is no half-assing a crime
It’s either all or nothing
And you've already gotten your hands *****
If you stop now
You'll be caught
But it's hard to be fearless
When the murderer and the victim are both you
Right?
So…
Be braver
If you over analyse this
Your victim-side
Will prevent you from cutting deep enough
You have a sharp blade
But your will is weak
So strengthen it
Push past the pain
If it hurts
Good
Of course it'll hurt!
It’s death
If you truly want it
Then your murderer-side
Will get over the agony and the guilt
To seek the power to succeed
Embrace the feeling
If you hospitalize yourself again
Your family won't forgive you this time
So finish the ******* job
Because the pills only gave you a tummy-ache
And the noose snapped under your weight
And the gun that Daddy hides doesn't have any bullets in it
So this is a last resort
Find your courage
If the bleeding stops
Pick up the blade
And try again
Don't be stupid by cutting horizontally
You've seen enough TV to know
That the cuts have to be vertical
Be desperate
If you feel yourself getting tired
Let yourself sleep
It means you're getting away with ******
It means you're succeeding
**Don't wake up**
If you do
You didn’t try hard enough
You weren't brave enough
You didn’t push past the pain
You couldn't embrace the feeling
You never found your courage
You weren't desperate enough
You're a failure
You're a ************* coward.
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 3:16 PM UTC
I sit here now typing away at my beloved laptop
that I got for Christmas.
Something I never in a million years thought I would have.
I sit here because I was assigned to write.
Write about what? I'm not sure.
There wasn't a prompt,
just some Langston Hughes poem.
But I'm not thinking about that poem.
I'm thinking about other schoolwork and tomorrow
and faded memories of an old friend
leading me down a cold, black street.
I'm thinking about the burger I ate that night and
about how I'll never wake up on time at this rate.
My high school career in a nutshell I guess.
Being assigned things and half-assing them.
Then painting or writing poetry afterward
when the papers have already been turned in.
Rarely able to put myself into my assignments.
I tucked my mother in ten minutes ago and I should be asleep but
this assignment matters
even though it does not.
It does not matter to me
in it's original form
as a microscopic detail
in my big portrait of life.
Assignment-
grade-
percentage-
GPA-
graduation-
college-
graduation again-
more college-
career-
money-
food-
survival-
.
Of course I have passions,
but my teachers do not see them
do not experience them
because they cannot assign me to
do what I want
express what I want
learn what I want
for a grade like
I am doing here.
So I cannot bring my passions to high school
but who cares?
All I have ever cared about
since kindergarten
when I decided not to drop out
was getting to a university.
I have dealt with
busy work and bullies
stress and standardized tests
and missing six hours, five days a week
of my life
to try and get to this place.
A place where
I wouldn't have to ask for a pink crayon
to draw an udder
on my udderless cow.
I could just go buy a pink crayon
and redraw the whole cow myself if I wanted to.
College for me was
the place where I could finally learn
information relevant to what I wanted to pursue in life.
The things that I am learning in high school
are fine I guess...
intriguing most of the time.
But I know deep down I know
that for twelve years I've just been
moseying along.
Getting average grades only so I could reach
this place
where I could be free to learn about things that obtain to me.
Where I digested information
and didn't spit it back out for a grade.
Where education is optional and
my assignments would lead me
to something more.
More.
I don't think I did this assignment right,
but this assignment doesn't matter
even though
it does.
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 1:58 AM UTC
*"I'm half-assing this,
which, to me, is a sign
that I don't care enough.
So now, if you'll excuse me."*
With that, she walked out of the room and turned the corner.
The five of us sat around the table in sheer disbelief, laughing.
*"Miss! Wait.
Your level of honesty is quite commendable,"*
said his Honor between breaths.
*"You're more honest with us than I am with myself.
You're hired."*
I wasn't sure how serious he was.
I don't think any of us were, even him.
A moment later, she came back around the archway and stood under the keystone with her arms crossed. A nice effect, one might comment.
"Nice effect," said I.
There was a glare. I know that glare..
*"When do I start?"
"When will you care to?"*
There were several seconds of silence.
*"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship, your Honor."
"I hope you're right. For both our sakes."*
Without skipping a beat, she retorted that
*"hope is a sign of vulnerability, your Honor."
"Vulnerability can be a sign of courage, young one,"*
came our familiar voice of wisdom, equally on tempo.
"Yeah!" Said I.
A smirk cracked the veil of her face.
Where have I seen that face..
*"I care to begin right now."
"It pleases the counsel to hear that, miss.."
"Anya. That's all you get.
Now, let me see to the spectacle.."*
She walked back out the room, turning the other corner.
My heart grew heavier the instant it clicked.
I knew I knew that face. ***** be crazy.
*"Oh, ******** I told myself. "It's her!"
"I know!" I replied.
"This oughtta be good."
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 7:21 PM UTC
I soaked in every word from your mouth
and repeated it back to you
and I guess it was assumed
that something had bloomed
While we walked the town to get coffee
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 11:01 PM UTC
Started lifting weights again
Started writing without meaning
Regurgitating days in the cyber escape
For if you work really hard you will succeed
Parallel by memories of Santiago
Montana New Mexico and the places I havent been to yet
These days
Languid blurs frolicking through hallways
Opening closing doors
Half assing entrances
My addictive traits extinguished years ago
I remember one jovial night when in a stupor she said
You should learn to channel your anger to accomplish great things
But it was never something I wanted to live with
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
Maybe if I rant then I will feel better but
I am not sure if I will because
Each time I do this I feel as though
I should be mad at someone else but it is beginning to feel like
I am the problem, either
I give too little to someone or
I give too much and
It seems that too much is really
Too Much,
But I am tired of half-assing things because
I deserve more than half an *** I deserve the whole **** thing, except
I am also willing to give my *** to nearly anyone who wants it, but
I am not sure I even want the s e x or the touch but I think that
I just want to feel worthy of something even if
I am your
Wet
Dream or
Your midnight fantasy I just want to
Be something to you
To be something to
Anyone, why
Is that so
Wrong?
May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 9:21 PM UTC
Back to work he hated half assing it he was all in or nothing. Rested from vacation trying not to get mad or upset with anyone because of their bad decisions that fell on him. Getting ready for the day seize the moment. His new bed all the back pain was minimal everything would tighten up but bearable. Trying to squeeze in training and work was going to be a challenge.
Jan 3, 2022
Jan 3, 2022 at 10:27 AM UTC
It wasn't that he didn't remember the lay of the land;
Hell, knew it as well as his own name,
(Even though, he noted with some disquiet,
The pavement had crept a bit farther up Bootjack Hill,
And there was a driveway or two,
Not to mention the odd electric meter,
That hadn't been there some years before)
But there were considerations now,
Things which needed to be taken into account
Which, in his days of rattle-assing in these hills
In his third-hand '75 Nova
(Last of the Rochester straight-sixes,
As so many bottles and cans raised in tribute noted
Before he sold it to some kid from the neighborhood
For fifty bucks, probably forty more than it was worth.)
Had been under his radar, if not beneath his contempt,
But he wasn't driving a beater with a cracked manifold now,
And his hips and knees were less than amenable
To changing a tire on a narrow strip
Of packed dirt and gravel,
And if you moved at more than a snail's pace up there,
You could bust a brake line in short order,
And if even you could walk to a point
Where you had cell service,
You had to convince someone from the garage in town
To send someone up to those hills
(He could just imagine someone on the other end
After an incredulous pause saying
You up where, now?)
And he'd decided to tuck his car
Into one of those **** new driveways
(He'd have just K-turned it back in the day,
But he knew those culverts were deep and serpentine)
And headed back downhill,
Reaching the Irish Settlement road
(Itself only paved completely back in '84 or so)
The drone of the tires on the tarmac
Faintly irritating and mosquito-like.
Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 4:20 PM UTC