"bashing" poems
In time you’ll recover and absolve
push those scorned impressions aside
hammer down the jaded edges
and sing
that delightful commoners song
the one you sang so well
in what seems a lifetime ago
You really had it you know
that fiery disposition and nimble cunning
those butter chords and derelict style
we could see it -- we could all see it
it was all it took to turn the evening tide
(and rile that buck fever)
heads bashing
tongues lambasting
middle fingers high
and raising Cain on those may fly statesmen
There were no rules
when it came to your survival
no textbook rally or common bond
no structured songbird or bravado stage
you either made it, or laid it
“life by the ***** Mr. Poppy would say
a kaleidoscope of dreams
with rich colored imagery
hardened artisan seams
in a carefully woven motif
But something got lost in the needle point
something sinister and distorted took hold
the quirks and street genius
that were your lifeline
gave way to grunts
and squeals
and chilling night crawlers
the colors faded quickly
to a cold confining grey
There was no grace in the new world
no retribution or switch back
no salvation or accorded finale
only edged platforms of blackened steel
that kept you cased
in a silent vanquished cell
shivering cold with fear
night without day
all in the shadow of death
But time heals all
and the polish sneakers
and open sores are long gone
(though the roman nose and shallow cleft remain)
indeed the falconer beat the widow maker
this go around
and I’m hopeful it won’t happen again
and if it does you’ll see me
standing hand on heart
with that old verse in hand:
he ain’t tainted
or silly,
and most certainly
not forgotten…
he ain’t loony
or fixed,
or a product of his self-doing…
he’s just a straight shootin’ guy,
who had the most of it
figured out
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 8:38 PM UTC
Here comes a fire burning, put it out with water and you'll save from drowning. Yes with all that indian pride, and ghostly tails beside. You're still just a wolf howling. Back at that mountain side, the gold down in the creek just waiting. Now it is the time!
Ideas just keep spinning, thoughts and feelings viewed like subliminal waves to the brain. the mythos enchanting, it all is believing. Now, taking up the arrows to steal a look at your master. Wishing harder. oh but your troubles are there, and your devotion unpared. So tell me, do you still want satisfaction? I could do without the bashing. Remember well the planet's storming cloud and know that you are found. The whisper you hear is showing, a dream of all your phoebos. The globe palmed and the stars your home.
Wait. Don't look anyfurther, all you need is laughter; fixing any disaster. They call it, silence. And it stole my brother. My friend, even the hot glow that once filled my soul. How could I not know that it mattered? Wait, do you hear that sound? It's louder than before! Am I normal? Of course not! I'm as unique as the space that falls between leaves! The universe is everything, Artemis hunting, Apollo flirting. Now do you see what I mean?
Your light is reflecting and I sink in the white moon. Oh Sirius the dog star of your master fallen. I know the pain of loving. Embodied with the essencee of apparent contradictions, I go on searching. The pack always watching. Life feeds on Life.
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 12:43 AM UTC
pray tell my friend
what are other girls like?
stereotypes only go so far
and very early into your
wishful separation of personality within gender
individual women begin to show themselves
strong women, weak ones
light and fair
dark, exotic
hair like waves
some like swirls in the clouds
***** and *****
short, long, bald or full
we have readers and writers
mothers, daughter
achievers and creators
from mechanics to doctors
surfers to fighters
athletes, disabled
every single one
worth their worth
these women don't need
you're irrelevant segregation
don't pit one girl against another
we have a much bigger war to fight
and your comparisons on
how much bigger her *** is
has no room to be heard
not now, not ever
if you can only
praise a woman
by bashing down another
then you do not deserve
to know woman.
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC
To all it may concern: straight people
Dear straight parents,
Thank you,
For making us gays,
And then making us feel like **** for being created,
But hey, you created us.
Dear straight people,
Shut your **** mouth.
We don't care.
Your words aren't going to change us,
No protest signs are gonna change us,
Only God can,
And that isn't an excuse to try and pray the gay away.
Dear straight men,
If a girl likes another girl,
They are not your ****** play toy.
Remove those perverted thoughts from your head,
And learn to control your *****
Dear straight men,
If a boy likes another boy,
And they don't like you,
Then keep your mouth shut.
If you don't like it,
Then don't be gay.
It doesn't concern you,
And it's none of your ******* business.
Dear straight women,
Just because a girl likes another girl,
Does not make her a ****
Or a *****
Or a *****
But who knows she may be.
But since you're making assumptions like that,
You're probably one of the before mentioned.
Dear straight women,
Ahem "straight",
Go away.
Quit flirting with us,
Because it's annoying and confusing.
Figure out what you want
And try again later.
Dear straight ally's,
Thank you.
You need to procreate,
And make more of you,
Because the world seems to be full of
********
And biggots.
Dear straight people,
You don't have to like us,
But hating us,
And bashing us,
Isn't gonna make us suddenly go away,
Or quit being gay.
Go back to your prayers that the gays will come to realize if you want,
But I think there are bigger problems in the world
That you need to be concerned with
More than a girl liking *****
Sincerely,
One who is both a straight and a gay.
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 8:12 AM UTC
words fall
like hapless fledglings
tossed from a cliff edged nest
with much screeching, squawking,
countless feathers lost
and then an awful thump
or hopeful, glorious flight
first love is tachycardiac love
all adrenaline, sweating palms
and stutter-stumbling sqeakings,
ungainly gropings,
when not with you, mopings
unrealistic hopings
for happy ever after endings,
breakings, bendings,
awkward mendings,
repeated leavings,
repented lovings.
heartfelt givings,
of broken hearted rendings.
lendings,
of time stolen from life
tearing, teasing,
tantalising teamings
crying, begging,
pleading strife
and then,
the metaphorical knife
cutting, slashing,
wordblow bashing,
screaming, reaming,
end to loves life.
til eventually, words fall,
like old birds leavings
to settle, unremarked upon
at the base of the tree of life.
first love's loss, is slow dying.
arrhythmia to flatline
in a multitude of laboured breaths
and long lingering sighs.
a loss of warmth,
from breast and thighs
and water copious,
falling from red rimed eyes.
sobbing, murmuring,
don't know whys?
from lips turned
toward,
bleakset skies.
as one settles firmly,
into black dog muck
no longer able to give a f▼ck.
tucked in tight to sadness,
lost all sight of former gladness,
caught up and shackled tight,
to the badness
around and around,
the carousel goes.
then,
at last,
the blessed silence,
as you die
one of many of....
life's little deaths
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC
Lift it to your lips
& let what falls adrift in the form of ash
dissolve in the wind
as dried bone thrashing,
bashing against dust & grit.
Pull; take a long hit.
Dregs to be kept until last in the bottom
of your broken lungs,
taken as deep as breaths:
to rattle against your teeth.
"O", takes the lewd shape
of your chapped mouth as you break free
from your caged-in chest,
skeletons left sat, to wallow
as ashen bones & yellow teeth.
Hold your knuckled joints
against tenderest flesh of your upper lip
& sniff, as if a try to void
all signs of violent backslides
to clandestine nicotine meetings.
Flick blanked eyes to lit but
dying embers ground between sole & soil,
& morosely swear never
another, not one more; after
this next one, this last one, never.
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 5:35 AM UTC
Nobody believes in me. But, neither do I, and that’s OK. But they don’t really know how I am, and if they knew, I am pretty sure they wouldn’t feel the same way. I sometimes feel like coming out of the closet, not because I am gay, but just for my personality. Then, I realize we are all in the closet. Even when you come out of the closet, you search for somewhere else to hide. But basically nobody will get out of the wardrobe, which makes sense, because we judge. We dislike everything. How people talk, dress, look, or even walk. We are so caught up on ******** that we don’t even get to evolve as people. I know I don’t. Could that be part of the system we grew up in? How do we differentiate a critique from simply judging. The critique highway goes straight into judge, or does it not? We might say — this is just a critique, it’s for your own good— but in reality, most of the times, we have already spoken about it to someone else. Why do we always need to get people’s approval to fit into this world, and therefore, are most unpopular “outcasts” really the most honest people to be around. I will never know, because I am as guilty as everyone else. Involved in the society that simply sits in the caffe window watching people pass by as you consider yourself better than them. Whatever. Once again, I am no better. I just find it sad to think that I am always searching from approval by bashing on other people, who have decided to live their life without caring about the dumb girl sitting by the window.
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 9:49 PM UTC
By all means
Let me be.
Can I have one day… one night
Without bashing?
On my mistakes… my mistakes
Oh god, my mistakes.
It’s difficult being happy
With constant argument
Over the past.
I know what happened,
I don’t need a daily reminder.
Can we be happy again?
Can we be at peace again?
My mistakes… my mistakes
Oh god, my mistakes.
The cause of frustration,
Shed tears, and anger.
My mistakes… my mistakes
Oh god, my mistakes.
Let’s move on from my mistakes
It’s difficult to be happy
With constant argument
Over the past.
Can we be happy again?
Can we be at peace again?
December 10, 2011
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 6:04 PM UTC
So as much as this Drama does persist
Your Prisoned Warning tugs at my Cool Shirt
Asking me to take Prudence and desist
In bashing Silence to where it would hurt
Now engraved in Copper I will make Clear:
For all my Writ Plagues I Apologise,
Deep in use plug Buds to that Trumpet's Ear
If Empathy a Letter in disguise
This my Friend's Spy; Deploy to high pursuit
Waving that Placard in belated claim
Which tastes folly less on a nutty boot
And Reprimand stamped on his just Remain.
Such I learned that Friendship's Best takes no Force
I Follow my Heart; Now you Follow yours.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:04 AM UTC
I've been thinking and reading a lot recently
People who claim to be enlighten
Are not really enlighten because
Enlightenment is about being one with everything
Enlightenment is seen as knowledge & awareness
I guess the “spiritual people” lack an understanding
Of duality
That life is based on good & bad
Enlightenment and being one with everything is accepting
Both the horrors & wonders of Life
Thus creating balance, which is now “being one with everything”
Instead of waving sacred geometry as the all knowing thing
Or bragging about, “I know the Fibonacci sequence & the golden ratio”
Don’t get me wrong! I enjoy reading about spirituality, sacred geometry, and other marvelous topics
Nor am I bashing people’s beliefs
I just see people misinterpreting the message
A great and funny example that had me thinking was what Palpatine/ Darth Sidious from Star Wars Episode III revenge of the Sith said.
“Anakin, if one is to understand “the great mystery” one must study all its aspects, not just the dogmatic narrow view of the Jedi. If you wish to become a complete and wise leader, you must embrace a larger view of the force.”
That principle revolves around the same idea as being enlighten & being one with everything
If someone was to become “enlighten” he or she has to face the trials of learning to love and also embracing that there is a horror that lurks around us that we are oblivious to see.
I think once someone see’s both sides of the picture is when someone becomes “enlighten”
Because they understand how both sides work
Enlighten --> duality --> balance
This is how I just view the topic of enlightenment
You don’t have to believe what I wrote
I could be wrong
This was merely me ranting and expressing what I feel lol
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
Cold today
but at least
the sun's
in play
Out in it
Wind talking
through mouthfuls of white pine
sweeping, swishing whispers
just enough to let the chimes
sing as bells
without bashing-- themselves
to dissonant trinkets
Music-muttering, free
Leafless shadows of the early spring
cold creeping 'cross
the yards toward noon
where they disappear
into a wood-chipper
What the hell is with my neighbors?
Why do people hate their trees?
Maybe 'cause they are not theirs?
Grown beyond them and their confines?
My tiny yard so feral
They probably hate mine too
But I belong to them
and mine belong to me
They curve around, protective
my home of wind and bird and sky
swirling
cream 'n coffee
one into another
like
Music sometimes
falling through itself into...
Sure--
know how to **** a morning
I let them live
trees and neighbors
...as my mind smears into afternoon
Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 2:42 PM UTC
Storms stirring
Winds surging
Thunder roaring
Lightening cracking
Rains lashing
Waves bashing
Grounds Shaking
Lakes Bursting
Cracks Emerging
Lands Overturning
Sky's Blurring
Streets Burning
World's Disturbing
all Submerging
Life's Fading
No Escaping!
No Returning!!
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 9:50 AM UTC
I look with worried eyes, at social Vines, of flashing lights and a lack of rights.
Human compassion is lacking where it needs to be.
Hate feeds off of hate,
but if thats all it takes,
then **love should come so easily.**
Bashing in windows.
Spraying with mace.
Choking to death.
Eliminating race.
Classes are gone,
So classless mistakes,
are now made daily
at the hastiest rate.
We’re starving and hungry for the tastiest taste,
of what has become the most delicious
most suspicious,
vicious,
fishy,
repetitious,
superstitious,
vision named freedom.
It's naive to think we’re free when all that we see,
is a sea of beings not being one thing,
and that’s free.
When was the last time you felt it?
And we’ve been given a life long song and dance of "whoever smelt it dealt it".
So if you took the feeling of now and held it,
bottled it up and shelved it,
you would open up to find your mind in decline.
This moment was better
while laters behind.
Thats the path that we’re on
but we have control.
We’re not egos and clothes,
we’re people of souls
We're humans of thought
Not students of hate.
Evil got a head start,
but now truth is in the race.
And if truth is in your face,
and you choose to look away,
then get used to the abuse
and not confused at truce-less fates.
The pre action of action is thinking to act.
I'm thinking that actually we’re ready to snap.
They’ve bent us too far,
for us to go back.
The past is a place where patterns attack.
And people are put
no matter the facts.
Police are afoot
demanding the last,
of freedoms they take them,
and **** them with gas.
A historical scene on Kentucky blue grass
these colors don't bleed,
yet we see they fade fast.
We’ve exceed the need,
to keep things intact.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 1:42 AM UTC
I am sitting, alone, on a chair in a lonely room.
The walls are brown, the ground is grey.
Every time I hear something, I quickly try to
find, searching, where the sound came from.
The sound was nothing but a movement of
the building, changed, affected by the wind.
The sound returns more frequently as I make
my way, walking towards the door without a handle.
Suddenly I cannot hear it anymore, I'm sure it's there
So very sure, but I guess I am finally used to it.
My mind is at ease and everything seems better than before.
I tried ramming, knocking, bashing even beating and
pounding but this door just will not budge. It is not
that I am too weak, deep inside, I just don't want to leave.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 4:30 PM UTC
Felt suicidal on the wrong side of suicide,
not wanting to die; but so uncomfortable
being alive. Wearing this human flesh,
I've slept with so many with my eyes peering
it's imaginations of all desires under a dress.
Lustful thoughts always left me so **** depressed.
__I USED TO BE SUICIDAL__
Likewise with liking a girl, never taught
how to truly love. Never focused on the looming
dark backgrounds; as my eyes focused on stars.
I'd shoot them down, with the same gun to **** myself,
wishing it doesn't jam this time. Look closely;
to the burn marks of my tongue, not being just bite scars.
__I USED TO BE SUICIDAL__
I once put a knife to my chest at ten years old,
_"I can take my life at any given,"_ telling myself
casually in bold. Must of been an angel holding that
knife back; before my body went cold.
__I USED TO BE SUICIDAL__
In my teen years; these crazy headaches and
mixing pain killers for the numbing pleasure,
Thinking if I never woke up, it would ease
the echoing ringing of my head's pressure.
I felt the reasoning of being; being alive, being
strong, being present; getting lesser and lesser.
__I USED TO BE SUICIDAL__
Wanting to drive at 120km/h off the road,
either crashing into a wall, or doing a couple rolls,
Losing my vision while driving, or losing the car's
controls. Or bashing into one of the streetlight poles.
__I USED TO BE SUICIDAL__
If maybe the roof fell over my head where I lay,
crossing with an armed thief on an unlucky day,
A drunk driver speeding my way, or a brain
cancer to leave my mind to decay.
__I USED TO BE SUICIDAL__
I've just changed that statement nowadays to:
__I DON'T WANT TO BE SUICIDAL TODAY__
Jun 20, 2022
Jun 20, 2022 at 2:55 PM UTC
Sweat swallows my skin
Pain in my chest has burned for ten minutes straight
I cannot stop
One more
One more
One more
always one more sit up
Throw up one more time
Skip one more meal
I have loved boys with ******* addictions and girls who didn't even have the intention of remembering my name let alone be my friend
Yet, I still can't learn to love my body
As I look in the mirror
Salt soaked tears flow down my face
I pull at my skin like maybe if I pull hard enough it'll rip off
My brain is bashing against the side of my heads crying and screaming and begging me to stop
The same head tells me
I'm too heavy
Too big
Too wide
Too this
Too that
let me just say I'm ******* sick of being "too"
I'm ready to gain back my years I lost to calories
Gain back the hours of sleep I lost thinking about how much I ate
Gain back all the times I put myself down just to lose one more pound
I don't know how
But I'm through living in a world of "too"s and "one more"s
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 8:18 PM UTC
i saw the greater part of creation succumb to the piracy of numbness-
the nimbus rage of torpedo cigars blowing blue-grey smoke into the dark lashes of love-struck little *****
thirsty angels with tangled curls of hair bashing their heads against bathroom walls
screaming under their breath, not enough.
i saw the green plastic- and her orange eyes
and the soap-bubbles on the sidewalk
and the soap frothing all over the sidewalk
and the glass that took off like pristine bullets in every direction
and-
blood running over the cum-covered lip of the curb, flowing into the street-
down to the drain, dripping into the hungry orifices of the big metal grate
into sewer pipe salvation-
destination unhindered by your humanity.
god, this must be insanity
and not even the good kind.
but
let's go watch the fire-works up on the roof-
crawl out the attic window
i let you go first to watch the electric calico
trickle down your legs like a promise.
i like the birds that fly in and out of your hair-
the handkerchief at your hip,
i like the crazy and the cool-
the too cute for comfort
and the fake angsty danger of your darkside.
like morphine-
the band or the drug?
you're ironically detached
with your semi-satanic languidity-
and overdue serenity
[i got a few overdue books at the library.]
[they closed the library a long time ago.]
i like to play catch with your presence-
our eyes with the back-and-forth,
the half-sent glances when we think the other isn't looking.
but we were always looking-
or at least i was always looking at you.
i could see half inside of you.
you were always half-naked-
in the scanty rags of the latest fashion.
when you breathed it was like nectarine noises-
and muffled yelps of love.
i watched your shirt move up and down on your chest
and told you about "never knows best"
it seems
i've seen the greater part of creation succumb to the supreme softness
and the best laid plans of motorcycles and mini-vans fall to pieces in my palms.
and you were the greatest creation i saw on the roof that day.
don't bat another pretty little eyelash at those tiny flashing pieces that go past like ricochets
it's just one more night of strangeness
and then you can be free again.
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 1:34 AM UTC
From a young age, I always felt stifled
I wasn’t allowed to be me so I was muffled
Mother insisted at my school I be held back in first grade
Principal said no, she insisted and in her hands he played
She said I'd be better off ******** because someone could do something with me then
Because the way I was, I was unable to learn, refused directions again and again
Mother said I came from a loving caring family that I treated terrible
I just don't know how to appreciate, and made others lives unbearable.
Being me was really not acceptable
So I always felt quite skeptical
Everything I did, wanted to do, said or liked
Was considered bad, wrong, sinful and disliked
My having fun was not allowed
For I’d embarrass them in a crowd
I never knew what I was allowed to do
Because of that I never really had a clue
Never knowing what to do, say or how to act
Since all my actions against me were attacked
My mother said one thing to me and did another
I knew she favored others over me so why did I bother?
My entire life has been quite a farce
Attention I wanted from her were sparse
Always pretending to be such an outstanding mother
To impress the friends and family she shouldn’t bother
Mother said I couldn't work because I can’t get along with anybody
Making me dependent on her in every way, she said I was shoddy.
While mother was pretending to me that she really loved me
She was going around bashing me to any family she’d see
I’d complain that other family members treated me bad
She said all you do is cause trouble and make me mad
If you could just grow up and learn to behave
Then everyone would be nice and about you rave
I trusted my mother when she said I was born bad, told her I see
She asked the doctor for help but said nothing was wrong with me.
Mother spoke with fork tongue; sold me out, lied to me constantly
Leaving me to wonder how to survive without her cautiously
I'm afraid to have fun, I'm always afraid someone will be cranky
When I did things I'd pay for it because mom would be very angry
Afraid to be me, don't know how to act, who I am, or what to do.
Today I feel the same and for that reason I will always be blue
At the age of almost 60 I'm finding out things were never my fault
I'd like to take all those bad feelings, and lock them in a vault
Copyright 2017
All rights reserved
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 8:40 PM UTC
To all it may concern: straight people
Dear straight parents,
Thank you,
For making us gays,
And then making us feel like **** for being created,
But hey, you created us.
Dear straight people,
Shut your **** mouth.
We don't care.
Your words aren't going to change us,
No protest signs are gonna change us,
Only God can,
And that isn't an excuse to try and pray the gay away.
Dear straight men,
If a girl likes another girl,
They are not your ****** play toy.
Remove those perverted thoughts from your head,
And learn to control your *****
Dear straight men,
If a boy likes another boy,
And they don't like you,
Then keep your mouth shut.
If you don't like it,
Then don't be gay.
It doesn't concern you,
And it's none of your ******* business.
Dear straight women,
Just because a girl likes another girl,
Does not make her a ****
Or a *****
Or a *****
But who knows she may be.
But since you're making assumptions like that,
You're probably one of the before mentioned.
Dear straight women,
Ahem "straight",
Go away.
Quit flirting with us,
Because it's annoying and confusing.
Figure out what you want
And try again later.
Dear straight ally's,
Thank you.
You need to procreate,
And make more of you,
Because the world seems to be full of
********
And biggots.
Dear straight people,
You don't have to like us,
But hating us,
And bashing us,
Isn't gonna make us suddenly go away,
Or quit being gay.
Go back to your prayers that the gays will come to realize if you want,
But I think there are bigger problems in the world
That you need to be concerned with
More than a girl liking *****
Sincerely,
One who is both a straight and a gay.
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 7:17 PM UTC
I went to close the window because it was getting windy and rainy. "can't leave this **** window open anyhow, without aluminum dust settling over the room"...Grrrr! ******* f-f-faggot factory!"
Oh **** I said ****** To myself, out loud. I felt something coming up in my chest! Laughter! Why, that factory doesn't even have a ***** besides the one it uses to **** my environment. I guess that's gay. Not in a happy or homosexual way, but in a way I am against.
So, what does this make me? A gay basher? Someone who has hit it off with almost every gay man I ever met? I always felt like they get me, which makes me feel good. I did find out a couple really did want to get me in the pooper, which made me feel even better than "getting me".
Just because it's not my lifestyle or I don't believe in it, doesn't mean I hate gay people. Does it? I mean I don't believe in *** with women either.
{Just leave this here so kids don't go to xhamster, which is uncensored. I wrote this after seeing a blogger talking about how a guy said an amusement park was gay, and not as good as his favorite park. An amusement park should be gay! Anyhow, there are actually people fighting over this crap. I know words can hurt, but so does being burned 5 times on the face with a cigarette. Yet, I don't blame everyone with a cigarette, just the guy who burned me. I bet if you dug up the men from the gay 90's they would feel a certain way about how gay is used now. I wish we could dig them up and send them after the bloggers who do nothing really, and **** sure have no gay fun. I believe that the use of bad words in poetry shows a weak vocabulary. Sometimes it's needed.)
Aug 25, 2021
Aug 25, 2021 at 2:11 PM UTC
Manipulating information
To craftily plot your lore
Is necessary if you want
To continue an information war.
Specific example: Deny Russian
Collusion and interference in
U.S. elections, and do not stop
Seeking info that you can spin.
After months of denying Russian
Cyber attacks and election meddling,
Then admit the possibility
Through a little backpedaling.
Say that well…maybe they meddled,
But hastily add: so did others.
Say you'd still end all queries
And probes if you had your druthers.
It's vital, of course, that you keep
Bashing the press. Be sure to accuse
Investigative journalists
Of making up tons of fake news.
Finally, say the Russians will
Interfere in the U.S., and that's
How in elections this November
They plan to help the DEMOCRATS!
Why? Because you're so hard
(Wink!) on Russia. You'll be winning.
Your fawning fans will eat it up,
And you will have all heads spinning.
Your friends on your favorite TV station
Will help you criticize and demean
Those who don't agree with you.
Praise to your propaganda machine!
Who cares what the world thinks?
You've got your fans; you've got your base.
There's no match for a stable genius
Who says to the world, "In your face!"
-by Bob B (7-25-18)
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
Burn incense to block out the smell of death and self hate
that lingers in your room
, as you sit up
at 3am
thinking too much
, because your mind is
never at rest.
The musky scent and stuffy atmosphere
, will breakdown your thinking pattern
and your thoughts leaving you mellowed
and able to sleep
for a while…
Somedays every feeling and all my thoughts bombard my mind like a hurricane
Bashing against the walls of my skull wanting to be spilled all over the page
.
like ink in a fountain pen.
Yet there are days
I cannot even think
of words to say
,
when you ask me
what's on my mind
or if I’m okay.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
Hippos in crates
On rollerskates
Crashing through
the rickety gates.
Crashing and bashing.
Oooooooooooh, how Smashing!
Rolling about
Their teeth a-flashing!
Running amuck!
Watch out for the duck.
Open the doors!
Back up the truck!
Zipping up the ramp
Like any old champ.
There they go!
Don't forget the stamp.
Crates in the mail!
Delivered without fail.
Those Hippos on skates
Lurching down the trail.
Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 3:27 PM UTC
I was born a sin.
I was born a lesbian.
For all you who think I chose to be this way.
You made a horrible mistake.
You think I would chose to be hated for my ****** orientation?
Do you think I would chose to get taunted and threatened more than once a week?
Do you think I love the way people stare at me when I so much as wear a button that says tolerance?
Do you think I like getting called a ***** and a sin?
Getting told I'm an abomination to the lord?
Do you think I like reading articals about gay bashing a and hearing from my gay uncle about his expirence growing up gay in nv?
He told me once when I first came out that I don't know if I'm lesbian, and if I ever think there is a possibility of being straight that I'd better go take that chance.
He knew what I would go through and wanted to protect me.
I got taunted and teased at school.
Stupid boys didn't leave me alone.
I relied on violence to protect myself.
Finally I began to get angry.
I wasn't okay anymore.
I spend more than half of middle school is residential treatment centers fighting depression and bipolar disorder.
I got to watch my girlfriend/ best friend turn into nothing due to drugs.
So you still think I chose to be this way?
Well **** you!
I didn't get a choice.
It's not like I woke up and thought hey today I think I'll go be lesbian.
Go find a girlfriend and just do it despise all the homophobes out there because I like being difficult.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 1:03 PM UTC
sweeps across the floor
like the hem of a rag
on a doll-faced *****
as the lights are dimmed
in this picket-fenced Attica.
To him, the raindrops taste like whiskey
so who's to blame him
for being a drunkard?
He will not take such condescension,
and so he shall pass it onto you
like a hot potato;
just say the third-degree burns
came from hugging the stove.
For you, life is not a Lifetime movie
looking at your bruises in the mirror
to a Celine Dion power ballad;
the days are a beach of intenstines
set alongside waves of toxic waste,
the moon now a mood ring
sitting atop the knuckles
of your vengeful king.
This decade of brutal purging,
atonement for sins not yet committed,
has felt as consuming
as his figure those Thursday nights
when he's stalking for his property,
and you're close-mouthed
under the bed,
looking through barely a slab
of this virtual reality,
at the iron-fisted giant
who would nurse your neuroses
if he'd stop bashing your face in.
Your expectations for the outcome
laced with Disney Princess satin
arrange themselves in a cross-legged noose
(the "O" stands for optimism),
for all this atonement
must be the beaten path
to the Garden of Eden.
You should just remember.
The men still pulled the lever,
licking the flames
as Joan of Arc sang her finale.
Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 10:55 AM UTC