"beasty" poems
Paperworks and all the lessons
Sharpened my mind to behold
more and more of that useless knowledge
We would probably never use.
Tests are bad enough.
Marks at the corner teach
us nothing but jealousy.
The adults compare and
judge as much as they want to
And screamed and shouted
cried and muttered.
Exams are anything but better.
You got stuck in a room
Imprisoned
by the tension.
Suffocated
by the
hot headed determination
to strive for the stars.
Inhumanly high.
This isn't hollywood movies
Nothing like the literature essays
'how do we create tension'
the subjects
hold your fate
but you did once told yourself
'I have no life'
So what are we doing here?
Wasting our days
on something so terribly useless.
Insignificant lectures when we know
Accountants hated maths.
Doctors hated biology.
but they are who they are because of
good results.
They will realize
no teachers like marking
stupid homework.
They hate the red crosses
And so do we.
Exams doesn't teach us
how to be a good person.
how to cope with beasty bullies..
how to survive
on our own.
It doesn't show any real talents
nor your low (high) IQ
It's just a pain in the ****
You have to deal with before
you became wrinkled, grey
fuzzy and old.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 4:41 PM UTC
The beast loving the beast he didnt have
sympathy for beauty and the way that beauty should be treated.
Beauty she didnt have the hard core nature of
reality that means the way a beast should be. Beauty and her Beast
The tender love and affection that beauty needed.
Was often ignore rejected and neglected.
from the beast.
The same way, that beauty wasnt able to
saddle the hard core meaness
and the rocky foundation.
That the beast was used to. To accept him being what he is.
Unloving uncaring ungiving.
because he is better known as this beast.
Beauty and her Beast.
Beauty would often be torn ravished and taken for granted.
While the beast would often feast on the tender meat.
Of Beauty! Ravishing and seeking, beastly taking.
Barely ever having anything descent to be giving.
No kindness no loving ways, no maturity.
Because the beast didnt even love himself.
This beast he be!
Sometimes as beauty would be recovering
she'd reach for him in his rocky
hard core places and it would leave her torn.
In tragedy torn ripped places because Beauty.
Needs peace beauty needs sweet relief.
That couldnt be provided.
By a ravishing Beast.
Beasty and her beast.
The way he seeks,, the way he treats the way he harms.
The way he rings alarms.
Beauty would sigh love me! The Beast would say Hate me.
Hate me I am Beast!
My Features are beast My ways are Beast.
My Heart is beasty. For I remember am Beast.
Beauty would cry Love me, desire me, want me,
Cherish Me, feed me nourish me.
comfort me, cradle me.
For I am beauty and I seek love and maturity.
I am Beauty. Do Not Devour me.
But nourish me and treat me kindly
And Know that I am beauty.
I seek sweet sleep sweet deliverance
For I am Beautiful I need not a Beast!
Don't be beasty let me transform you into my Prince charming
my romantic knight and shinning armor.
can I kiss the beast and he turn into my romantic beast.
By SelinaSharday.. All Rights reseved S.A.M 2018
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 11:13 AM UTC
Watch this thought walk up the wall.
Watch the creepy crawly creature creeping higher.
His waste trails after him, sullying the paint.
Before long the whole room reeks.
Watch him watch you now as he sits on the ceiling.
Is this really how you want to spend your day:
watching your thoughts walk circles around the room?
You used to entertain yourself with lofty notions.
You used to write to some of the thoughts down.
Now look at you looking at some sickly creature,
and trying to find something to say.
Watch this thought form a cocoon.
Watch the sleepy drawling creature sleeping soundly.
He is gestating, growing, becoming while you just sit there.
Before long he’ll be something more than you.
Watch him and listen to the sounds of change.
Is this really how you want to spend your day:
in envy of a creature who’s life barely lasts the whole thing?
You used to entertain yourself with clever colleagues.
You used to fool around with funny friends.
Now look at you looking at some sickly creature,
and trying to find something to say.
Watch this thought hatch from its slumber.
Watch the bouncing, buzzing beasty birthed.
His wings spread out and he flies down from the ceiling.
Before long he makes out of the open window.
You ask yourself: is this really how I just spent my day:
imagining a life instead of living my own?
I used to write poems, and I thought they were profound.
I used to tell myself that they might mean something to you.
Now, look at you looking at me looking at nothing in particular,
and try to find something to say.
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 4:01 PM UTC
'Twas brillig, when the wee sleek beasty
Did gyre and gimble in my fields
And ach! I feel but naught, but sadness
Plowing his home and stealing his meals
Jun 3, 2021
Jun 3, 2021 at 9:43 PM UTC
love ya in the morning ..luv ya more at night
yes ya make me horny..horny beasty right
be my valentineeey..be my sweetheart night
bathe me all in chocolate ..lick me likey like
**
Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 2:35 AM UTC
Her wasabi breath,
snake venom injected crow's feet
& chain smoking reflex could
scare a country into prohibition.
Enough ****** power and spine behind
every word to ******* the
male populous into a plethora
of soggy invertebrates.
Barnacle encrusted spinach weave,
obsidian void lip stick she squeezed
off a bat's back
& a Columbian waltz she stole
from a putrid little beasty
all mixed up & spit into a murky
cocktail glass wearing high heels.
You could feel the atmosphere tickle
a bit when she raised a brow at
You.
That silky whisper of a voice
was just an illusionist prelude
to the thundering brass of her
ringing enthusiasm.
She was the most powerful being.
A lioness among the flock of sheep.
A droplet of viscous mercury
in an oil spill.
Raw.
Sharp.
Lethal.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
Dry lips
Gnashing teeth;
All the words
that come out
of it
are lies,
His words
are dusky and
beasty-
there's rage
and no sign
of guilt
Like it was kept
for a long time,
His heart
is a dark
hidden sanctuary
with cast off
memories
and lifeless
moments;
He is a liar
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 8:38 AM UTC
and to this day
I love you~love
beasty thinker
rodin's poetic
vision warrior
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 12:24 PM UTC
beastly
you promised
to break me in
like a rich mans house
promised you were right
and liked to slide me under your shoe
and bring it down hard
thought I belonged
to the cracks I created
one second thought you won
you didn't expect me
beasty best
layered like mahogany
cobra dangerous
with the same weight as the sky
pounding canyons into skin
beat of the earth blood
glistened eyes threaten pray
subtle as thunder
black leopard sleek
my stare undoes you
I take you away in pieces
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
Walk with me to my house of pain, and I promise you 'll remember my name. It's dark in there without space to yell, my mind has become a cycle of hell.
Thought after thought goes bad instantly, someone left me that way to teach you my existant-c.
To rip out the heart that feeds my pain would be the day there is nothing left to gain.
My window to wisdom would be wisest to leave unrevealed, my deepest dept to my hell it has there been sealed.
I can not see the day when I will unmask, the beasty life that put me in this cast, sent me to my hell on earth took my-all it is worth...... I can never go back.
Walk with me down memory lane, you wont remember me the same. I used to smile and hope for tomorrow, now my days are filled with a bitter sweet sorrow.
Candy was sweet, lemons were sour, life was ripe upon every hour. Today is the dawn of a new genehell, with death and hate the only thing to sell.
I am the master of all your who, what, when, and where, I am the master of pain because I was put there;
Put there to show what many forget, good and evil within are not co-existant.
SDPope
Jan 23, 2010
Jan 23, 2010 at 6:55 PM UTC
i love the way,
you put a smile on my face,
all the weird litle things
got me, thinking on the chance
of living again, or trying to thou,
the ways of looking back in secret,
the way you look like her, the lion owner,
the ligth of lights knows, someday i will
live, even if she owns my heart, some other will
accept that, and be with me, hopefully, and knowing
that my heart is not mine anymore.
that is my prerrogative anyway, a shared beast
a lover that will love you entyreli, and faithfully,
but knowing that in secret, he two, loves another
the same way he may love you, and that is it,
no catch or trap, no ******* crap, just an inpossible
story, that will remain for ever, secretly, respectfully.
silently and faithfully taken, a romantic beast, a lover
and a fool, a ****** killing beast, with love capacity
and a faithfull lover, adoring you, but knowing,
that he loves another, and for ever will,
if my heart can be shared, and i know it can,
she could be the other one, owning the lion's heart.
hopefully that other one understands,
there is storys that never end, last and last,
as looks in the distance, will never end,
and the distant lovers, will always be that,
distant and inloved, dispice the odds,
and dispice the distance, but that is all.
the heart is strange, and whimpsy, so
maybe i could love you, as i love her,
no buts, just that, i trie to forget, and trie to
not care or look back again, that don't work,
so crazy the litle secrets in the lion's heart.
dispice that, i will love again.
find someone, then, loving her,
she may know already, i could love her,
make her mine, **** his pups,
take her in heat, making her mi lioness.
a litle beasty girl, to love,knowing,
that the half of my heart can be hers.
the other half, is owned, and for ever
will be.
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 1:10 AM UTC
George Washington never saw a funny movie.
Culture had not knitted lightning into now, yet,
when the leaven in my bread was just a ******
beasty idea attempting to pass Jesus is Lord testing
half-way through today, right now, middle
of everything that's going on in and
around the whole internet connected reality,
right now,
we have magic in our qwerty trained brains,
we can recall the music, baddabumbaddabum
baddadabadah bump, p-ting
college prep
learning to type, mechanically, like a machine,
some one far more famous than me,
told me in print that no real poet types.
I found him poetically unqualified to prophecy.
---------------
May 7, 2024
May 7, 2024 at 5:08 PM UTC
Wait, pause, dont panic;
Not all mirrors reflect the soul.
There's beauty hidden deep within,
Every beasty thing that exists.
And ugliness is a trait of beauty.
Unseen and unheard in fairy tales.
Everthing made of star dust,
Has something magical within.
All snow whites are not fair;
And every prince isn't charming.
Nothing other than the black.
Could satisfy the moonless dark.
Every ugly, earthy seed contains;
An unborn beautiful flower.
Until it doesn't die of suffocation;
It doesn't reproduce beauty.
While cherishing the beauty of the flower
Why ignore the cause is the seed's sacrifice?
Would it be still an eye treat;
If the seed hadn't died a terible death?
Arnt abstract arts masterpeices;
Like the others present in the gallary?
Dont trust mirrors
They only reflect the phyical appearance,
Not the beauty of the soul.
Everthing is beautiful;
When veiwed from different angle;
From different point of veiw;
Not the one which we are accustomed to see from.
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 9:49 AM UTC
Take it from me, the things you can see
The wonders your eyes will behold
Mother Nature did good in this neighbourhood
It’s a landscape of riches untold
The lochs and the glens, the Munros and Bens
They are stunning you can’t disagree
Rivers Clyde and the Tay and the Forth and the Spey
The Findhorn, the Don and the Dee
All kinds of rocks, have been turned into brochs
Into castles and bothies and cairns
If I had a say I would choose Skara Brea
As a great place to show your wee bairns
From clear waters great ***** great meat from the coos
That both share the rich fertile fields
So too the deer, with venison premiere
And the sheep produce great woollen yields
The fishing’s fantastic, there’s salmon (Atlantic)
Grayling and pike and big charr
I’ve so little doubt there’s superior trout
That I’ll not tell you quite where they are
We think thistles divine and we like the scots pine
The heather is gorgeous in flower
There’s gorse on the ground. Scottish bluebells around
It’s what young haggis prefer to devour
We have eagles and kites and owls through the night
Ptarmigan. The grouse are widespread
If you don’t fancy that, there’s a breed of wild cat
And lots of our squirrels are red
Both at midnight and noon it’s like Brigadoon
The landscape is magic caressed
Every plant, every hill is possessed of good will
And the nice beasty that lives in Loch Ness
I could tell you more, but I’d just make you snore
But believe me that’s far from it all
If you’re still full of doubt come quick, don’t lose out
‘Cause we might rebuild Hadrian’s Wall
Apr 16, 2021
Apr 16, 2021 at 12:14 PM UTC