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"baddie" poems
I wish you'd never give up on me, just as much as i wish we could let each other go. I'm so weak and unsure, Only certain in the fact that i have always messed things up, and the assumption that i will always continue to do so. I only cry for myself or for you, As if there were no greater tragedy in the world than your absence and my own saddened heart. You deserve so much more than me, so much more, but although i try, It seems too hard to let you go and find it. I hate being the bad guy but it's gone too far for me to be the goodie again.
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Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 7:19 AM UTC
Baddie
I'm the happiest today that I've been in years with a smile that stretches between both ears don't quite know what's taking place why am I so full of grace? Got this ****** stupid grin like a granny full of gin want to hug my enemies got none, sod it, hug the trees got good news about my friends tribulations at an end? had so sweet a day of love angels must be close above waiting for things to go wrong like a *** note in a song perhaps a car will run me down Christ I bet I'd wear a frown! maybe hug a ****** killer like a baddie in a thriller pick axe through my happy skull wouldn't notice I'm so dull my face is like a happy elf as if I've been touching myself don't worry that is not my style 'cos God says masturbation's vile I'll settle for this pleasant feeling it's so amazing leaves me reeling friday might not match my mood what if I am grumpy, start to brood? So try to keep this jolly face keep spouting poetry apace soon enough I'll be back down I'm just a sad depressive clown...:O)
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Jan 20, 2011
Jan 20, 2011 at 3:55 PM UTC
Stupid Grin
Let me tell you something About life as seen on TV It may appear ideal But that ain’t the way it should be The goodie has no end of ammo The baddie is never in with a shout But in our world today It’s always the good guy who loses out He loses out to the ******** The puff with the SUV. The girls drop a nice one instantly For a flutter of profanity. The ***** always get laid While the dude’s left out to dry And for all that goodness he’s got He’s alone a lot and why? It’s a question I asked myself For years and years to come To the conclusion that all winners Are deadbeats, jerks and ****
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Nov 12, 2011
Nov 12, 2011 at 11:20 AM UTC
I'm fricking Fine
I look at the screen and see this perfect bride, she is his ride or die, she is his wife. He loves her yet gives me the side eye, I don’t know why I think she’s the other guy? I want love and security, I want independence and non-codependency. I want trinkets and tchotchkes but not a ring on the finger, yes a finger but not that kind of finger, I am not ready and he isn’t the one, will I ever be the other woman looking in at the other one? She struts away up and down, gives me this glare while she drops a timid hand on her hubby, possessing him and making him be her property, smirks at satisfaction with the way my face is painted, she doesn’t see it, but love’s not a competition. I don’t love him, nor do I lust, he is just eye candy that I like to **** with my eyes, he isn’t my type of guy. Jealousy is funny cause I was where she stood. Told him to block her and remove her as he should. But I didn’t get it then and she doesn’t get it now, if he’s looking at me, she’s the other woman now. Cause she is ‘othered’ by him, she is replaced as the apple of his eye by me in his vision, it is a revision. Competing with me will do you no good, cause I’m a class apart, a classy bossy b and you just live in the neighbourhood. I have visions and goal and options, you just him to be understood. You chose to settle it’s not my fault, you’re average at best, it’s what I can recall. We don’t even live in the same dimension, you’re looking at me, but I’m looking at you and laughing how you’re so green with envy, I didn’t even speak to him even then you still think, that I will steal him from you, whoever you think are you two? I got a better life to live than live in jealousy, bless your heart but you’re not my enemy. I am the only woman in this world, none of you ******* are in my caliber, go cry to your daddy, cause you are not me, you’re not an Insta baddie x.
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Jan 1, 2023
Jan 1, 2023 at 3:23 PM UTC
Other woman
I look at the screen and see this perfect bride, she is his ride or die, she is his wife. He loves her yet gives me the side eye, I don’t know why I think she’s the other guy? I want love and security, I want independence and non-codependency. I want trinkets and tchotchkes but not a ring on the finger, yes a finger but not that kind of finger, I am not ready and he isn’t the one, will I ever be the other woman looking in at the other one? She struts away up and down, gives me this glare while she drops a timid hand on her hubby, possessing him and making him be her property, smirks at satisfaction with the way my face is painted, she doesn’t see it, but love’s not a competition. I don’t love him, nor do I lust, he is just eye candy that I like to **** with my eyes, he isn’t my type of guy. Jealousy is funny cause I was where she stood. Told him to block her and remove her as he should. But I didn’t get it then and she doesn’t get it now, if he’s looking at me, she’s the other woman now. Cause she is ‘othered’ by him, she is replaced as the apple of his eye by me in his vision, it is a revision. Competing with me will do you no good, cause I’m a class apart, a classy bossy b and you just live in the neighbourhood. I have visions and goal and options, you just him to be understood. You chose to settle it’s not my fault, you’re average at best, it’s what I can recall. We don’t even live in the same dimension, you’re looking at me, but I’m looking at you and laughing how you’re so green with envy, I didn’t even speak to him even then you still think, that I will steal him from you, whoever you think are you two? I got a better life to live than live in jealousy, bless your heart but you’re not my enemy. I am the only woman in this world, none of you ******* are in my caliber, go cry to your daddy, cause you are not me, you’re not an Insta baddie x.
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43
Forgotten art of demonic friendships With baddie caddies and the absent masculine control of the black liquiline emotions Pooled around a hair mask, it stripped away all the gaudy binds The devil is really a concept that one should never be denied
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Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 9:50 PM UTC
Screenshot
im a sexed up cumwhore after a drag on your **** pistol. im as quiet as a mouse in my shiny, black school shoes. im a baddie and im thinking of your head grazing against my teeth instead of this (decadent) cherry – now you know why im drooling. im a gracious guest and the hostess with the most-est, covering my mouth when I laugh too hard, mixing a cocktail that’ll put hair on any man’s chest
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Jul 18, 2017
Jul 18, 2017 at 4:04 AM UTC
(A poem a day) day 16
Do you see that girl? Her mind hiding years of tormenting secrets, face stained with tears, Her lips sealed closed promising never to tell what she has been suffering with. Don’t you see her? That girl is right there and you don’t you even know Because you would much rather choose “ignorance is bliss” Then reach your hand out and help her. That girl she is screaming trying to get the attention of anyone with a listening ear She is trying to tell you she can’t take it anymore .She wants you to see The scares left behind by that unwanted visitor. The pain that has sieged her heart. Do you see her? That girl she binged on the fantasias of what her favorites rapper says make a baddie So she lap band her addictions and Botox away her depression Thinking all that cosmic surgery can take away her pain. What she really needs is for someone to take her by the hand And tell her that everything be okay and she can make it. That girl is right there and still can’t see her Because you are too quick to judge. If you would take some time and listen you would Know she is screaming out for help She has wants you to know she has had it with The physical and mental abuse. That girl she is looking for a way out but she keeps sinking Back into her own inward conflicts that pull her back in faster than quick sand She like Eva took a big bite out of depiction and enter into the hand of sin. If you would just stop and pay attention you would have know That girl she is sitting right next to you . Now do you see her?
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Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 10:50 AM UTC
That Girl
Do you see that girl? Her mind hiding years of tormenting secrets, face stained with tears, Her lips sealed closed promising never to tell what she has been suffering with. Don’t you see her? That girl is right there and you don’t you even know Because you would much rather choose “ignorance is bliss” Then reach your hand out and help her. That girl she is screaming trying to get the attention of anyone with a listening ear She is trying to tell you she can’t take it anymore .She wants you to see The scares left behind by that unwanted visitor. The pain that has sieged her heart. Do you see her? That girl she binged on the fantasias of what her favorites rapper says make a baddie So she lap band her addictions and Botox away her depression Thinking all that cosmic surgery can take away her pain. What she really needs is for someone to take her by the hand And tell her that everything be okay and she can make it. That girl is right there and still can’t see her Because you are too quick to judge. If you would take some time and listen you would Know she is screaming out for help She has wants you to know she has had it with The physical and mental abuse. That girl she is looking for a way out but she keeps sinking Back into her own inward conflicts that pull her back in faster than quick sand She like Eva took a big bite out of depiction and enter into the hand of sin. If you would just stop and pay attention you would have know That girl she is sitting right next to you . Now do you see her?
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29
The cops Never view me Like I view me The cops Treat me like a criminal Not knowing that I am a good family person The cops I know they deal with all sorts of people But why do they treat me like a criminal The cops I try and view life through their eyes But they view me as a baddie The cops Try and figure out why I turned my feet To try and avoid them Why can’t they arrest real crooks The cops I know I have to be careful If I want a job in live streaming Because they could arrest me The cops I view life like them But they view me like a poor mentally ill Layabout The cops I know I made mistakes But I still want to be good The cops I try to watch highway patrol To do the right thing So I don’t get fines The cops They might not know it But I respect the cops Because they are just doing their job But I ain’t a criminal I try and not swear at the cops Cause really the only people who do that Are alcoholics druggies and the guilty The cops Just help the cops arrest the bad people PLEASE
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Oct 27, 2020
Oct 27, 2020 at 6:27 AM UTC
The cops
I don’t flash **** for social security benefits. But I call my baddie daddy, because his heart is like paddy; Big, wide & worthy of a Grammy. I like my wine fine, Man resigned, A bit over twenty-nine, So it all feels like borderline cloud-nine. Lucky for me, Love & grey hair came intertwined.
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Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 3:59 AM UTC
Daddy
dear god, you humble me into quietude she says it’s sunny and 75 nearing 3’o’clock, cooling, let’s go for our usual constitutional, for a lovely afternoon walk to Shell Beach *can’t can’t can’t walking now in a bottomless pit, every handhold, poems, newly commissioned, newborn, broken off the wall, revealing a gleaming, light of iron pyrite, really good fool’s gold, cause only fools write good poetry, or even try* but tonight I’m gonna feed you bucatini bolognese babe, you gotta walk, make some room for all the words that will come tumbling free falling while I’m sleeping next, you’re up prowling looking for rhymes, lines, unheard of before, you’ll need energy to bite, write, and make loving poetry and then, then, sleep late, my laddie-baddie, new ones on my nightstand, for my perusal, my usual unusual man who gifts me them to in quantities of ‘more galore,’ that I accept, adore...adore so afterwards, I must say my morning prayer, as an atheist forgiven, the one I commissioned, and you composed, for me: Dear God: you humble me into quietude, with gratitude...
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Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 3:37 PM UTC
dear god, you humble me into quietude
Sometimes I wonder Why me? Is it because I'm not pretty enough? Is it because at the toughest times I don't know how to be tough? Or what about my personality? Am I too tense? A little too closed? Or is it that you want me to let loose and be open a little more? But how? When the closest people to me shot me right in the core... Why me? Is it because I'm not the girl I used to be? The little baddie with a drunky as a daddy? Pause ... The person who I became, because of all the shame and the mind games But who's to blame? Myself .. I blame myself for being such a fool, but I never thought I was too cool for school Book smart and street smart with the slightest passion for a pretty piece of art... Why me? Boys always dub me, now they writing letters that they love me... NOT Seems like I'm all I got.. Since the guys in my past had another on the side Said I was their only, but you know everybody lies Why? They always leave me in the dirt and really think they cool and don't care that I'm hurt .. Why me? Everybody fake Running round the world being sneaky like the snakes Can't trust too many, Being friends with lanes you wouldn't wanna trust any ... Why me? Seems like I'm never happy like I used to be No one understands the pain that's deep inside of me Misunderstood... Got a smile in my face but there's no reason why I should.. Why me?
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Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 8:07 PM UTC
Why Me?
He’s already in the room when I walk in. He can see me wringing my hands and a grin half-bananas on his face, as if he knows precisely how our conversation will go, because everyone who’s ever met him ends up the same way, with a tempest in their skulls and an avalanche in their guts. He’s ordered me a black coffee - knows it’ll keep me up tonight. I crumple my fists under the table, ready for the comic-strip moment where I overthrow the baddie, B O S H ! right in the chops, but it’d be like punching concrete. I’d come off worse, of course. I tell him to stop playing, that it’s gone on too long. He sees me wringing my hands again and a guffaw ejects from his chest, an ugly-bird sound. How many times I’ve turned down an opportunity, how many times I’ve said I’ll think about it only to pass and watch the night eke away as treacle down the sink. He’s the blister in my life. I dismiss the drink, get up to leave, my only remark, ‘are you leaving too?’ That disgusting smirk. ‘Don’t be silly. We’re friends.’ Outside I breathe fast though not out of breath, my palms raspberry-pink. He’s already waiting when I get home.
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Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 7:00 AM UTC
The Blister
Helen and I were sitting on the grass in front of Banks House it was a Sunday morning bright and warm she had her hair in 2 plaits and her thick lens glasses enlarged her eyes which were peering at me so he shot you? she said looking concerned yes the creep shot me in the back while I wasn't looking I said so who was it again? she said Pat Garrett he's sheriff or something like that I said and you were Billy the Kid? she said flicking one of her plaits of hair behind her shoulder yes but I had a good life while I did I said she nodded I saw him in a film at the flicks I said Robert Taylor was him in it my old man took me she looked at the 6 shooter gun in my holster on the grass how many guns have you got? she asked I have 3 I said and a rifle sometimes I have 2 guns on me in holster sometime I have 1 why 2? she said so I can shoot 2 bad guys at once or if I'm the baddie then 2 marshals she frowned which do you like best to be? she said I like playing Wyatt Earp if I'm a good guy or Billy the Kid if I'm a bad guy she passed me a sherbet lemon sweet from a white paper bag and I ****** it she talked of her doll Battered Betty who lost an arm when her little brother smashed her against a wall but her dad fixed it and it has 2 arms now again I picked up my 6 shooter and took it out of the holster and began to polish it she talked on about her dolls' shoes white ones but one had gone missing and she thought her brother may have stolen it I ****** another sherbet lemon cleaning my gun part of my Sunday morning fun.
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Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 3:37 AM UTC
SUNDAY MORNING FUN 1955.
Helen and I were sitting on the grass in front of Banks House it was a Sunday morning bright and warm she had her hair in 2 plaits and her thick lens glasses enlarged her eyes which were peering at me so he shot you? she said looking concerned yes the creep shot me in the back while I wasn't looking I said so who was it again? she said Pat Garrett he's sheriff or something like that I said and you were Billy the Kid? she said flicking one of her plaits of hair behind her shoulder yes but I had a good life while I did I said she nodded I saw him in a film at the flicks I said Robert Taylor was him in it my old man took me she looked at the 6 shooter gun in my holster on the grass how many guns have you got? she asked I have 3 I said and a rifle sometimes I have 2 guns on me in holster sometime I have 1 why 2? she said so I can shoot 2 bad guys at once or if I'm the baddie then 2 marshals she frowned which do you like best to be? she said I like playing Wyatt Earp if I'm a good guy or Billy the Kid if I'm a bad guy she passed me a sherbet lemon sweet from a white paper bag and I ****** it she talked of her doll Battered Betty who lost an arm when her little brother smashed her against a wall but her dad fixed it and it has 2 arms now again I picked up my 6 shooter and took it out of the holster and began to polish it she talked on about her dolls' shoes white ones but one had gone missing and she thought her brother may have stolen it I ****** another sherbet lemon cleaning my gun part of my Sunday morning fun.
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101
Baddie brains blown out hick-up pick up picky pick up lines hirried stubbling drained from the gum. Yes tis gum from the stuomuch that you swallowed for month because I just loved the way you ***** *** I'm sick. I puked. I puked? I started runnning the walts of Conan the quenched dominator beefing with minny mouse for spanking mickey. He sipps mickeys just so you know I'm holy dust, sike. I wish I washed my mouth month before I ate the groomed flappy fingered fizzathered lips of Haley Jade. I wish I had a ****** **** Nut after nut and after this nut another nut and a nut a then the knux cause she got the **** crumbling runs rinse me in Faygo cause these Jugglalos have hair I love to get the stow in jars from a far, because I farted. Beanie I ******* farting who started this ******** fricken flame flare Jack Keoroac couldn't spit enough spirts to-at-alley trickling pink pavement funds that freed Zepplin.
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Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 4:49 PM UTC
I'm Woke.
like a sonorous bird on a wire, his lyrics delivered with/in, a gravelly impish grinning wink, with a high voltage  current currency that makes you cry, why did I not write that, godfamn it, which rhymes doncha ya know so pickup your electronics, grumpy and cursing, compelled to start versing, bested by the best, reminder to self you are an also ran, you be back of the pack, and the love out there, freely given to the artists we aspire to be makes me, an ass-piring foolish man, who kicks up beach sand into his owned eyes, them two regular betrayers… and that’s a rap and a wrap of another baddie po~em
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Sep 14, 2024
Sep 14, 2024 at 8:46 AM UTC
don’t listen to the songs of Leonard Cohen when you A-awake...
Sleepless O, sleep, why did you forsake me I close my eyes will me to sleep Nothing! Better get up watch an old movie A western one and you know who Are the baddie and the sheriff John Wayne is holding in his stomach. The fake fight scene with furniture That breaks easily. O, sleep, why did you forsake me.
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Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 4:48 AM UTC
sleepless
i saw a funny thing just the other day a crane fly with a turban came flying by my way he had little bombs fastenend to his wings with a belt of bullets and grenade and things like something from a movie he looked a proper baddie a british daddy long legs that had joined jihaddy
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Aug 23, 2020
Aug 23, 2020 at 11:56 AM UTC
jihaddy longlegs
i saw a funny thing just the other day a crane fly with a turban came flying by my way he had little bombs fastenend to his wings with a belt of bullets and grenade and things like something from a movie he looked a proper baddie a british daddy long legs that had joined jihaddy
0
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 7:06 AM UTC
jihaddy longlegs