Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
2 Mother's Days
Came & went away
2 Mother's Days
I cried the day away

© From A Mother's 💔
5/12/20

Stress is a b*tch
It steals your joy
It makes u itch

© From A Poet's ♥️
5/11/20


Co-vid
Inspired by Jolene by Dolly Parton

Co-vid! Co-vid!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
We're beggin' of you please don't take our health!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
We're beggin' of you please don't take our wealth!

Your symptoms come n a disguise
The media spreading all your lies
W/ scare tactics & fear mongering
Your gift to us makes us all cuss
We can't b who we were once
And we cannot compete with u
Co-vid

We dream about u n nightmares
U r on the news, u're everywhere
There's no escaping u @ all
Co-vid

But we can't easily understand
How you can take women & men
But u don't know what they mean 2 us
Co-vid

Co-vid! Co-vid!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
We're beggin' of you please don't take our health!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
We're beggin' of you please don't take our wealth!

U could have your choice of homes
But we can't just go out & roam
Home's the only place 4 us
Co-vid

I had to write this song to u
Our very lives depend on u
And whatever u sent our way next
Co-vid

Co-vid! Co-vid!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
We're beggin' of you please don't take our health!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
We're beggin' of you please don't take our wealth!

Co-vid! Co-vid!

© From A Quarantined Poet's ♥️
4/19/20

Covid-19
U r obscene
We once were free
But we couldn't see

U stole that
From us
Til we
Wanna cuss

We can't see
Our fam
And u don't
Give a ****

We can't see
Our friends
Will this
Pandemic end?

Some can't go
To work
U're just a
Big ****

Kids can't
Go to school
Now parents
Have to enforce rules

© From A Quarantined Poet's ♥️
4/8/20

Quarantine
Day 33!
***!
Woe is me!

Quarantine
Day 33!
Who r u &
Who is she?

Quarantine
Day 33!
Washing hands
To meet demands

Quarantine
Day 33!
Only go to work
Don't get perks

Quarantine
Day 33
I work full-time
But not he

Quarantine
Day 33
Shopping carts
6 feet apart

6 feet apart
And no hugs
6 feet apart
Don't share cootie bugs

© From A Working Quarantined Poet's ♥️
4/11/20

N response to another poet's poem

We too are essential
And get paid small
For the work we do
For travelers and all

To find place of rest
At our hotel
We're practically the only ones open
As u can tell

I'm also a caregiver
Keeping people healthy
Although with covid-19
Not many r wealthy

We're all n this 2gether
All over the world
Hopefully future changes come
Soon to the weather

Don't matter the color of skin
Black, white or brown
We're all stuck in
All over every town

© From A Poet's ♥️
4/11/20

The 12 Months Of Lockdown

On the first month of lockdown all over my small town,
Jobs laid off, people stayed home!

On the second month of lockdown all over my small town,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people stayed home!

On the third month of lockdown all over my small town,
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people stayed home!

On the fourth month of lockdown all over my small town,
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people stayed home!

On the fifth month of lockdown all over my small town,
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the sixth month of lockdown all over my small town,
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the seventh month of lockdown all over my small town,
Toilet paper hoarding!
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the eighth month of lockdown all over my small town,
Pay your bills online!
Toilet paper hoarding!
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the ninth month of lockdown all over my small town,
People went crazy!
Pay your bills online!
Toilet paper hoarding!
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the 10th month of lockdown all over my small town,
Hosting watch parties!
People went crazy!
Pay your bills online!
Toilet paper hoarding!
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the 11th month of lockdown all over my small town,
Virtual church attendance
Hosting watch parties!
People went crazy!
Pay your bills online!
Toilet paper hoarding!
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the 12th month of lockdown all over my small town,
Wear face masks & gloves
Virtual church attendance
Hosting watch parties!
People went crazy!
Pay your bills online!
Toilet paper hoarding!
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

© From A Quarantined Poet's ♥️
4/11/20

We're 'spose 2 b locked down
But it don't look like it
But all over my town
Ppl r pitching fits

They cannot go c
Their own family
They cannot go do
What they intended to

They r stuck inside
W/ family they hate
W/ rules 2 abide
They can't go out on dates

They will get over it
(Not b4 they pitch a fit!)
Or they'll get a ticket
(And they can't afford it!)

© From A Quarantined Poet's ♥️
4/12/20

People wear frowns
And they wear gowns
People wear face masks While doing tasks

Pretty soon they'll wear
Coverings for their shoes
Just like doctors
And surgeons do

People wear gloves
Afraid they'll get sick
Like God up above
Couldn't heal them that quick

© From A Poet's ♥️
4/12/20

Easter n quarantine
This is obscene!
Easter n quarantine
Covid-19, u r really mean!

© From A Quarantined Poet's ♥️
4/12/20

I can't c my kids
He still says they r his
He teaches them hate
Now that Morgan is 8

Roy's following too
And I don't know what to do

© From A Mother's 💔
4/14/20

He found another way
For DSS to say
That I cannot c
Not even #3

He's using the system
To benefit him
To brainwash them
Against me & William

© From A Mother's 💔
4/14/20

Happy birthday
To u all
Sorry that I
Couldn't call

© From A Poet's ♥️
4/20/20

"Boredom"
Inspired by: "Jolene" by Dolly Parton

https://youtu.be/Ixrje2rXLMA

Boredom! Boredom!
Boredom! Boredom!
Please give everyone something else to do!
Boredom! Boredom!
Boredom! Boredom!
Please before we go insane inside!

Your torture is beyond compare
U drive us to the brink w/ dares
W/ nothing left to do but stare around
Your smile is like evil disguised
Your voice telling all kinds of lies
And we've run out of things to do,
Boredom!

They talk about u on the news
You're streaming w/ the largest views
There's nowhere we can escape u
Boredom!

And I could easily understand
How you have need to recruit us
But you don't know what sanity is
Boredom!

Boredom! Boredom!
Boredom! Boredom!
Please give everyone something else to do!
Boredom! Boredom!
Boredom! Boredom!
Please before we go insane inside!

U could choose other planets
But u have chosen planet Earth
Seems we're the one for the job
Boredom!

I had 2 get this off my chest
So we can actually get some rest
I hope there is not another test
Boredom!

Boredom! Boredom!
Boredom! Boredom!
Please give everyone something else to do!
Boredom! Boredom!
Boredom! Boredom!
Please before we go insane inside!

Boredom! Boredom!

© From A Poet's ❤️
4/21/20

If I cuss like a sailor
And dress like a tailor
Then my mouth would b *****
Even passed the age of 30.

© From A Poet's ♥️
4/22/20

If it smells like a trout
And u can't stay out
B sure to use protection
So u won't get an infection

© From A Poet's ♥️
4/22/20
I really want
To c my dad
But he only
Makes me mad

© From A Poet's 💔
3/22/20

Photo inspiration

Kissing in the rain
Washes away the pain
Even if it's in the shower
That takes over an hour
The hot water will run out
Then cold water comes out the spout
And then kills the mood
So we move to the room
Things r heating up now
There's no turning back now
Let's keep the momentum going
Now that our juices r flowing

© From A Poet's ♥️
5/12/20

2 Mother's Days
Came & went away
2 Mother's Days
I cried the day away

© From A Mother's 💔
5/12/20

Stress is a b*tch
It steals your joy
It makes u itch

© From A Poet's ♥️
5/11/20


Co-vid
Inspired by Jolene by Dolly Parton

Co-vid! Co-vid!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
We're beggin' of you please don't take our health!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
We're beggin' of you please don't take our wealth!

Your symptoms come n a disguise
The media spreading all your lies
W/ scare tactics & fear mongering
Your gift to us makes us all cuss
We can't b who we were once
And we cannot compete with u
Co-vid

We dream about u n nightmares
U r on the news, u're everywhere
There's no escaping u @ all
Co-vid

But we can't easily understand
How you can take women & men
But u don't know what they mean 2 us
Co-vid

Co-vid! Co-vid!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
We're beggin' of you please don't take our health!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
We're beggin' of you please don't take our wealth!

U could have your choice of homes
But we can't just go out & roam
Home's the only place 4 us
Co-vid

I had to write this song to u
Our very lives depend on u
And whatever u sent our way next
Co-vid

Co-vid! Co-vid!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
We're beggin' of you please don't take our health!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
Co-vid! Co-vid!
We're beggin' of you please don't take our wealth!

Co-vid! Co-vid!

© From A Quarantined Poet's ♥️
4/19/20

Covid-19
U r obscene
We once were free
But we couldn't see

U stole that
From us
Til we
Wanna cuss

We can't see
Our fam
And u don't
Give a ****

We can't see
Our friends
Will this
Pandemic end?

Some can't go
To work
U're just a
Big ****

Kids can't
Go to school
Now parents
Have to enforce rules

© From A Quarantined Poet's ♥️
4/8/20

Quarantine
Day 33!
***!
Woe is me!

Quarantine
Day 33!
Who r u &
Who is she?

Quarantine
Day 33!
Washing hands
To meet demands

Quarantine
Day 33!
Only go to work
Don't get perks

Quarantine
Day 33
I work full-time
But not he

Quarantine
Day 33
Shopping carts
6 feet apart

6 feet apart
And no hugs
6 feet apart
Don't share cootie bugs

© From A Working Quarantined Poet's ♥️
4/11/20

N response to another poet's poem

We too are essential
And get paid small
For the work we do
For travelers and all

To find place of rest
At our hotel
We're practically the only ones open
As u can tell

I'm also a caregiver
Keeping people healthy
Although with covid-19
Not many r wealthy

We're all n this 2gether
All over the world
Hopefully future changes come
Soon to the weather

Don't matter the color of skin
Black, white or brown
We're all stuck in
All over every town

© From A Poet's ♥️
4/11/20

The 12 Months Of Lockdown

On the first month of lockdown all over my small town,
Jobs laid off, people stayed home!

On the second month of lockdown all over my small town,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people stayed home!

On the third month of lockdown all over my small town,
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people stayed home!

On the fourth month of lockdown all over my small town,
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people stayed home!

On the fifth month of lockdown all over my small town,
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the sixth month of lockdown all over my small town,
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the seventh month of lockdown all over my small town,
Toilet paper hoarding!
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the eighth month of lockdown all over my small town,
Pay your bills online!
Toilet paper hoarding!
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the ninth month of lockdown all over my small town,
People went crazy!
Pay your bills online!
Toilet paper hoarding!
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the 10th month of lockdown all over my small town,
Hosting watch parties!
People went crazy!
Pay your bills online!
Toilet paper hoarding!
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the 11th month of lockdown all over my small town,
Virtual church attendance
Hosting watch parties!
People went crazy!
Pay your bills online!
Toilet paper hoarding!
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

On the 12th month of lockdown all over my small town,
Wear face masks & gloves
Virtual church attendance
Hosting watch parties!
People went crazy!
Pay your bills online!
Toilet paper hoarding!
Honey-do projects!
Homeschooling!
Video chats
Online jobs,
People got bored
Jobs laid off, people got sent home!

© From A Quarantined Poet's ♥️
4/11/20

We're 'spose 2 b locked down
But it don't look like it
But all over my town
Ppl r pitching fits

They cannot go c
Their own family
They cannot go do
What they intended to

They r stuck inside
W/ family they hate
W/ rules 2 abide
They can't go out on dates

They will get over it
(Not b4 they pitch a fit!)
Or they'll get a ticket
(And they can't afford it!)

© From A Quarantined Poet's ♥️
4/12/20

People wear frowns
And they wear gowns
People wear face masks While doing tasks

Pretty soon they'll wear
Coverings for their shoes
Just like doctors
And surgeons do

People wear gloves
Afraid they'll get sick
Like God up above
Couldn't heal them that quick

© From A Poet's ♥️
4/12/20

Easter n quarantine
This is obscene!
Easter n quarantine
Covid-19, u r really mean!

© From A Quarantined Poet's ♥️
4/12/20

I can't c my kids
He still says they r his
He teaches them hate
Now that Morgan is 8

Roy's following too
And I don't know what to do

© From A Mother's 💔
4/14/20

He found another way
For DSS to say
That I cannot c
Not even #3

He's using the system
To benefit him
To brainwash them
Against me & William

© From A Mother's 💔
4/14/20

Happy birthday
To u all
Sorry that I
Couldn't call

© From A Poet's ♥️
4/20/20

"Boredom"
Inspired by: "Jolene" by Dolly Parton

https://youtu.be/Ixrje2rXLMA

Boredom! Boredom!
Boredom! Boredom!
Please give everyone something else to do!
Boredom! Boredom!
Boredom! Boredom!
Please before we go insane inside!

Your torture is beyond compare
U drive us to the brink w/ dares
W/ nothing left to do but stare around
Your smile is like evil disguised
Your voice telling all kinds of lies
And we've run out of things to do,
Boredom!

They talk about u on the news
You're streaming w/ the largest views
There's nowhere we can escape u
Boredom!

And I could easily understand
How you have need to recruit us
But you don't know what sanity is
Boredom!

Boredom! Boredom!
Boredom! Boredom!
Please give everyone something else to do!
Boredom! Boredom!
Boredom! Boredom!
Please before we go insane inside!

U could choose other planets
But u have chosen planet Earth
Seems we're the one for the job
Boredom!

I had 2 get this off my chest
So we can actually get some rest
I hope there is not another test
Boredom!

Boredom! Boredom!
Boredom! Boredom!
Please give everyone something else to do!
Boredom! Boredom!
Boredom! Boredom!
Please before we go insane inside!

Boredom! Boredom!

© From A Poet's ❤️
4/21/20

If I cuss like a sailor
And dress like a tailor
Then my mouth would b *****
Even passed the age of 30.

© From A Poet's ♥️
4/22/20

If it smells like a trout
And u can't stay out
B sure to use protection
So u won't get an infection

© From A Poet's ♥️
4/22/20

We pay rent
And don't c a cent
Of it in air
And she doesn't care

© From A Poet's ♥️
5/3/20

Photo challenge

I caught Tinker Bell!
The devilish little sprite!
She has been causing hell!
When she is out of sight!

© From A Poet's ♥️
5/3/20
JAM Jul 2013
I'm beggin', begging... really really beggin' you... not to test me
My words are infectious and I have so many tricks up my sleeve

So many different techniques to make you fold
Tired of the possibilities you hang in front of me... ****'s gettin' old

And I'm sure, Oh I'm so sure you thought you had the lead,
but when you looked up all you saw was the back of me

Just watch how well I don't give a ****

What? You need an example, well here's a sample, nah better yet... a handful

I kissed you, you kissed me, I left you, you chased me
Trust, it's not how I wanted it to be
But I can't be locked in a box just cause you get lonely

People need air, people need their own time even when there's none to spare

An affectionate perfectionist, checking me in with a check list
It could only go on for so long before I would start to not give a ****

So now you wanna threaten me about tellin' people how you got the best of me
Keep it... You got the best of 5%, you never even saw the rest of me

The slander and random banter is really startin' to **** me off though

The last thing you want is to ***** with me, trust me your not ready
Embarrassment you'll bare if I open my mouth has no remedy


So... I'm beggin', begging... really really beggin' you... not to test me

-J.A.M
Connor Thomas Sep 2012
I come from New Orleans where the swingers hook up with the singers, and the boxes have a person inside who speak to you through a thick horizontal slot in the door. You come from Minnesota where the most aggressive sentence is “Hi, how are you” and you’ve attended church every Sunday of your life, even though you don’t really believe in god.

We came to the West to skate with the surfer junkies. But then the harbors got bombed and we moved out East to see the hipsters and the artists beggin on the streets. We went to the South with the racists and bigots were dying for a good show. We moved up North to escape from the 70s, and with the 80s on the rise we figured we’d best stay away.

The 70s were rockin’ with **** and LSD in parks and concerts, and on benches on the streets. The smoke in the air was everywhere, from the slums in Wisconsin to the cities of Dallas. Even the poor were lost in the haze.

When the 80s arrived with Rock ‘n’ Roll and techno beats from windowsills upstairs. The music was groovin’ and the ladies were fine. We saw billboards of our names in neon orange lights. The *** was replaced by coke, and the LSD with ****** singing and swinging with delight in our eyes.
When the AIDS broke out we were sick in our beds listening to Pink Floyd and Elton John, and still we were singing. The 70s got us high while the 80s made us die

We lived through wars in Vietnam, and Korea; we fought back the communists with red ink on our hands. We broke down the door into China and got them to arrive in the present and join the world. Although their chairman sits on a chair of lies he leads them with an angry fist in the air pumping “three cheers for Mao”. “Three cheers for Mao”.

When the Soviets launched themselves to the moon we responded with our money and flashed our shiny new machinery in their faces. We marked our territory and claimed triumphantly that “We’re the best”. And we launched our war nukes and pinned them into intimidation. Then the Cubans sought revenge for the death of the Pigs on their Bay. With rifles in hand we stormed the beach and unearthed Castro and his regime.

With our beds soaked in blood, and our dreams covered with fog, hand in hand we lay. We recalled the dances in the backs of old Cafes where the passwords were as simple as three quick knocks and two slow ones. We remembered the guns that pierced the heavenly chorus for the negros in the south. And we thought about the music of the 70s and the death in the 80s and I thought about you for a minute more.
Jon Tobias Jul 2011
I don’t know where the right place is

But if you ever found it

That’s where my heart would be

Pumpin’ contently

Good intentions lookin’ like veins

Stackin’ up like a spiral train track headin’ up and out

It’s the only way they grow

Up and out

Like weeds

They grow from anywhere

I had a friend who’s car was so messy weeds were growin’ in his back seat

Love is synonymous with the way weeds grow

Makes me thankful for the fissures in the foundation that holds me

On days where the money runs out

And I can’t even keep my own head above water

On days where I collapse into the fault lines I’ve made for myself

There’s still love in there

I know I’m not perfect

But the intentions bleedin’ out from the cracks in my skin

Are beggin’ for forgiveness

Like it was all that I ever wanted

I hate the fact that I push people away

And I hate the fact that I can get so obnoxious

That even my laugh sounds like thunder

beggin’ ya to punch me in the face

Go ahead and stop lovin’ me if you have to

Just know

If you ever found the right place

Maybe stumbled upon it like a hole in the ground

That you somehow missed

My heart would be in there

Good intentions

Workin’ up like weeds

Beggin’ you to love me
Oetting Oct 2010
Every time ya’ walk through that door
I hit the floor.

Ya’ have me beggin’ for more.

My only wish is for
ya’ to adore me.

So take my hand cause’ we can soar.

As a matter of fact let’s take a
Walk on the shore
My Lenore.

Cause’ I wanna get to know ya’
Down to the core.

With all this love I have
To give there’s no way we
Can be poor.

Please baby don’t ignore!

I can’t wait anymore!

Put your arms around me cause’
We can stand before
Anything *******.
A.O
Cameron Haste Aug 2014
Moss covered women
beggin' fog man
to grip a cig
from their tangled wigs
(a snarl of emerald branches
& voodoo masks
with plastic flasks,
they grave loot from caskets
& trash.)

Raunchy regulars
calling loogies to duty.

I've been livin' in a tumble ****,
with a doctorate for wildebeest.
don't go back, she bites.
They're
doing it again.

They're gonna stuff
the corpse of
Hugo Chavez and
put it on display
in a glass case.

Why?

They did it to Lenin.

For 80 years he lay
on a bed of flowers
in a glass topped coffin
lazin away the days
in the Kremlin Wall
before they locked
him away behind
closed glasnost doors.

For those eighty years
Lenin's comrades
paraded his
corpse around
like an extended
Weekend at Bernie's;
raising old Ilyich
to mouth every
dictatorial diatribe
uttered by the
deathly stale
bread breath
of Stalin and all
the petty knockoffs
that followed him.

V.I. did a lot of
talking for a
dead man, serving
the dictatorship
of the proletariat
with valor and
distinction.

They did it
to Mao,
reminding all
happy Chinese Proles
that great peoples
revolutions must
dutifully mind
the unerring
instruction of
the secular deity;
resting assured
that progress is an
historical
dialectical
inevitability
proceeding apace
until classlessness
is realized in every
Hunan rice paddy,
Shanghai noodle
factory, Mongol
Steppe Village
and Buddhist
Tibetan Temple
in the glorious
workers paradise.

As of this writing Mao
hasn't been heard from
since the
Gang of Four
walked the last
Capitalist Roader plank.

Lady Mao
indignant to the end,
coolly quipping final zingers
from the Third Edition
of the Little Red Book as
last death sentence breaths
escaped her charcoal stained
great leaping forward
lungs.  
  
As always
Deng Xiaoping
got the final
laugh, counting
heavenly
Renmibis;

his yuan
piling up faster
then the number
of displaced
peasants
clogging the
streets of
The People's
Republic
new and improved
discount cities
beggin for jobs
at a toxic
iPod
factory.

Crafty
Deng  bought
the copy rights to
Mao's Quotations
his profit driven
start-up
fills
fortune cookies
with the
Chairman's
wise maxims
eagerly consumed
by the country's
burgeoning
class of
happy
lunch time
capitalists.

By the
waters of the Nile
they stuffed dead
pharaohs with
with onions,
spices and
frankincense
and buried em
in billion dollar
pyramids.

When a pharaoh  
crossed the River
Styx the expense
was justified
because of his
station in life.

The undertaking
also served as a
shovel ready
infrastructure
improvement
initiative for
idling slaves.

The humongous
public works project
didn't do much
for the economy back then
because the wages of
slaves don't go too far;
but through the
expanse of
expired millennia
the strange fruit of
chattel workers
is a proven boon
for the tourist trade in the
Valley of the Kings.

Its a bit unfortunate
that enterprising
grave robbers daring
the risk of the mummies curse
and imperialist archaeological
pillagers wouldn't let the
league of buried
Pharaoh's -like
young King Tut-
just
RIP.

..and then
there's the case of
Sweet Jesus...

Half of America
believes him to be
Chairman Emeritus
of the GOP,
authoring a gospel
of righteousness
in the party platform,
sprinkling holy water
on the hardest edges of
free market capitalism.

Though
his body was
lifted to heaven
on Ascension Day
Jesus
remains
the main course
at the festive Eucharist
every Sunday morning.  

Pious padres
transubstantiate
sacrosanct wafers
say its the Lords Table
but they act more
like its their own.  

Wrapped
in riddles
within sacred
paradoxes
exclusionary
catholic churches
refuse spiritually
starved pilgrim's
slices of happy meals
if they ain't down
with their
righteous
creed.

I recall
Jesus feeding 5,000
soul staved people with
seven loaves and five fishes
and had enough left overs
to feed every famished
woman and child
in Biafra;

don't remember Jesus
checking membership cards
before filling their bellies
with wholesomeness;

but the
pietistic pastors
parsing out
the holy loaves
remain quick to draw
heinous crucifixes
believing in the
holy justice of  
their crossianity
to ecstatically
bludgeon a
fallen heathen...

some Muslim
fundamentalists
do the same thing

a Hidden Imam
been walking
the earth since
the death of
The Prophet
Muhammad
(PBUH)

the ubiquitous
Mahdi is around
somewhere
and when he shows
his face he'll team
with Isa
enabling the Shia's
to tell the Sunni's
I told you so
and demand
that they
stop
murdering
fellow
Muslims

I just want to
tell my brothers
and sisters in
Venezuela
that they are the body
and soul, the heart, hands
and mind of the nation

the body is theirs
the body can't be
without them.
el corpus es usted

what ever happened
from dust you have come
to dust you shall return?

and now as a
Caracas glazier
cuts a glass box
for Chavez

i say
i think its a bad idea.
it never goes well for the dead ones

and as for the living
when myth becomes history
the potentates of politics
and the priests of power
become ghoulish tyrants
that devour the lives of
the living


ERRATUM
+++

As Marx observed in the  
18th Bremaire of Louis Bonaparte

"The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living...
he goes on to say, "history repeats itself, first as tragedy then as farce"...

I hope my Venezuelan brothers and sisters avoid the tragedy and don't fall victim to farce...

Final thoughts from Jesus:

"Wherever there is a carcass,
there the vultures will gather.
Let the dead bury the dead"

Smash the icons!
Hugo deserves his heavenly rest
he wouldn't want it any other way.

Hugo Chavez
(28 July 1954 – 5 March 2013)
Godspeed Beloved


Joan Baez & Mercedes Sosa "Gracias A La Vida"

jbm
Oakland
3/8/13
Bo Tansky Oct 2018
Hotshot
Potshot
Fool shot
Cool shot
No shot
Yo shot
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Hey hotshot
Can you tell me who’s the shot caller
You’re lookin pretty dreamy
Didn’t mean to be a meany
Some things come so naturally
Shots are ringing from your balcony
So come on Romeo
Take a *** shot
Hotshot
And
Please tell me if I have a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Hotshot
You’re such a cool shot
Badass
You can call the shots
You can shoot the shots
You got the elevated status
But, you ain’t got no action
You always know what's going down
You nowhere to be found
Because you're the shot caller
And I don’t have a shot
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Do i
Do I
Do I
Hey, hotshot
Can you see
I’m down on my knees
Beggin you please
For a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Hotshot
You know I’m such a cool shot
And this is so out of character for me
Can’t you see
I can see
You’re laughing at me
For being a fool shot
Please tell me if I have a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Hotshot
Will I ever see you at my door
Is this it
Nothing more
Looking pretty dreamy
This time, promise
Not to be a meany
Please tell me if I have a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Dale had a friend
His name was shot
Because he was
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Who lives and who dies
Doesn’t matter when you’re a lifer
You run the prison
Make the decision
That’s not, not, not, not what I mean
Didn’t mean to be mean
So please
Won’t you tell me if I have a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
I’m down on my knees
Beggin you please
For a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
What I really mean is
Who’s the shot caller
What I really mean is
Well I know I’m unrehearsed
But quite well versed
I think you’ll agree
Always with me
I’m never home alone
Don’t pathologize
Just Apologize
For being such a ****, ****, ****
I know I don’t know how
But I’ll hold your hand
And you can show me how
Then I’ll quickly get off stage
Before it goes to my head
And all I want to do
Is be a deadhead
I mean it quite literally
Always looking for meaning
And that’s what I’m trying to say
My reflection seems to inspire perfection
And that’s not what I mean
Seems I’m always ******* off everyone  
With my off the cuff remarks
That set off sparks
And I think it’s quite a lark
But, I’m the only one laughing
So please tell me if I have a
Shot, shot, shot, shot
Before I’m
Dead, dead, dead, dead
Yo shot
dj Mar 2012
chasing dollars
I honestly would rather sleep
dreams of dollars chasing me
armed with chisels they chip away at me
I'll succeed
someday, you'll see

You can't expect things to be ethical
in a System like this

dollars make me a power-man
I can do what I can
because I can buy what I want
hording doll hairs
I've amassed such a pile
other 'chasers' are starving for a taste
those little pac-men
nibbling away at my Zen
I hope they starve so my battles could end

They can't expect things to be ethical
in a Circuit like this

chasing dollars
because now I need more
A false kind of security
now my stomach is sore
beggin' for a nibble
what an awful *****!
she doesn't even care that I'm all out of doll hair
what an unethical mess
someone now
this must be
addressed
this is what I like to call a "loaded" poem.
A snake doesn't just throw shade
We thrive in the shadows
Stalking our prey,
Think you've got what it takes
We'll swallow you whole.

I dare the kittens birdys & roadkill
To make a mistake
You really think your house spits
poison Better than a snake?

Our Partsel tongue is "forked for her pleasure"
Each time we seal a letter
witches get wetter

other houses cringe at our fame
cold blooded killers

don't buy it? Just wait.
Our Snakeoil salesman
Will Have you beggin' for change

You dare to stand against a python?
You don't even know code

I can't pull punches
if I don't have hands, Bro.

Like medusas hair dresser
Expect-to petrify
Better call Cobra
Get insurance for your life.
What's the matter
Gonna cry?
Because We can't.
Ask science.

I dare you to challenge
My Reptilian brethren

We're Unhinging our jaw
getting fed like it's league of legends.
jane taylor May 2016
who created the hole in my soul?
it never was me
tell my why does it hurt so much?
mama said just because

who created the hole in my soul?
life’s supposed to be full
why am i feelin’ emptiness
he came along my heartstrings pulled

he fills my heart and my soul with his
don’t know why i felt alone
he’s my lover, friend and confidante
i swear to god i’m finally home

who created the hole in my soul?
do i wanna to fill it up?
it aches until i have him back again
finally full my empty cup

i gave myself to him and was complete
he took me in and we were whole
but he left forever, he was gone
torn in half he took my soul

who created the hole in my soul?
i have to find what is lost
god i’m beggin’ put it back again
my life is gone and that’s the cost

i was fraught woulda done anything
drownin’ in pain, i hurt so
i had to find myself inside my heart
it was me i sought to know

i gotta fill me with what’s within
never was i incomplete
seeking outer things to fill me up
a sure way to defeat

then i met yet another one
now my spirit is complete
lovers united and whole again
this time we won’t be beat

who created the hole in my soul?
not god but life’s hard blows
put the pieces back to mend my life
now i’m healed and that i know

if you find there’s a hole in your soul
don’t seek that’s in the past
then you can be and take what comes
cuz you can be with you last

yeah, you can be with you at last

©2016janetaylor
this is a song that i wrote the music and lyrics to https://youtu.be/EToCYbTRyV0
My
My
My
A girl like you


A woman for me


A woman like you


Someone who knows she is


A woman like you




And I wonder how


How
How


You could be here.


Now now now


It's really you


And her here here


It's never you


When you know im looking for something real










It's her I'm looking at. Finding imprints of loving acts in infinitesimal moments
I melt into you like I can't describe how


How


Who you are to me.


Here


Here


Her presence moves.


She moved


Moves. Me.


I write some small sentence to try and rally the passion inspired by her


But I can't find


Lose sight


No more…


I can't forget you and move on




What do you do in all I am


Just the two of us


And I bleed why I can't let you go


Because I'm here for you, baby


Please


Let me unfurl ..


I'm always here right next to you
Forever wherever we go
Maddie Mar 2013
Something so serene about standing on the pier
While a beggin' street performer sang stairway to heaven.
Although not my favorite Zeppelin.
It was magic.
The wind carried the melodic tune.
That was it.
Everything and nothing.
One moment out of a million.

I hated the wind,
And the cold but,
In that moment I could see us there,
Growing old.

Your smile gave me warmth.
The closeness set me on fire.
In that instant,
I've never been higher.
No pipe, pill, or drink
Could make me feel,
Or make me think.
And I have to say.
It was one of my best days.
David Nelson Mar 2010
Nice Hawaiian Punch

I was standin there you see,
I wusn't expectin nutten,
when she double sucker-punched me in the gut
my belly revolted badly,
fowl words were on the button,
civil conversations like a pairing knife cut

It's been in the works you see,
we've been beggin for a fight,
the pressure is too much for you to take
so when I wasn't lookin',
first you threw a left and then a right,
and that is why now my belly ache

now the truth is setting in,
my waves have settled down,
a big mistake has reared it's ugly head,
my world will be in sorrow,
my presence banished from this town,
a nice Hawaiian punch the pain I dread

Gomer LePoet...
Brad Lambert Jan 2014
I wrap my arms about my torso and brush my thoughts 'gainst you,
crying.

Rainwater best cures a torn-soul
when boiled in a *** atop
a burner left burning all night.


Crying,
the sky giveth us wonders and taketh the wonders away.

O' the water's down a'boilin'.
Ye' it all boils down to you.
To you and how you go.
Ye' when you go, you go.
O' where you a'goin' too?

See that go-getter go-gettin' his girl–
Good for him. Good for him.

Send some good for the man with a will when he wills his will to be.
And good for the fingers who first feel a fortune 'fore the fortune is seen.
And good for the addicts relapsing in attics with kisses of dopamine.
And good for the thoughts of you that brush against my skin,
that for days on will hold–

Eighteen! Eighteen! I say eighteen years is the bridge,
the forest fires will forever forget to burn!


I say give it a year and call him on that telephone and
he will answer on that telephone and
you will beg his heart come home, beggin' a'bargainin'–

Eighteen! Eighteen! I have missed you for some time,
bent-to-bet a century's pass'd since we last kissed.


One match done been lit in the county matchbook.
Such is the click-click of a gas stove igniting,
I call that rip-exciting, torn-enticing, fates be a'dicing–

*Eighteen! Eighteen! It was another day–
It was another life.
A complete mess of a poem, but I'm done. It needed to be written and now it is writ.
Jeremy Betts Dec 2023
There's no escaping these prison walls of skull and bone that nobody sees
The only thing stopping me is me, or so it seems
Look past the nose on your face, I'm beggin' you please, hear my pleas
My nightmares roll over into daymares, you get to look forward to your dreams

©2023

there at the feet of that mountain ye'll see
a man carryin' two buckets towards a tree
he's beggin', he struggles, he prays to God
oh Almighty give me the strength of a sod

that drought up there 'n' all those years i wear
days of climbin', bringin' some water up there
for this palm shall be givin' dates if is by Thee
so i'll keep mine even when havin' to go to sea

'cause as fruit is given, all is given to 'n' brought
what is mine shall be mine beyond my thought
so of all of those things i might think of to care
'n' many a thing provided by You alone to share

i say, this man shall, 'till his dyin' days he'll be
walkin' up 'n' down that road waterin' the tree

*
..love always...



عرفان بن يوسف © AH 20/05/1437

'a (freestyle/flow meter) Sonnet'
liz Nov 2014
Words.
There coming out your mouth
and you got me beggin'
push them out

Days go by
And I don't see
Why you
Keep on coming
Back to me.

Time.
Is forever at a still
Waiting for you
To spread your wings
And go home.

The clouds begin to cry
The sun continues
To hide.
Baby you got nothing
But apathy.

And I'm telling you this is wrong.
Thinking
Maybe we can fix this
But I'm screaming
"Wrong".

Floorboards.
Continue to crack
With every step you take
Coming to me.
The night is just
So dark
This light is completely
Blinding me
Can't you see that I'm
suffocating?

No stars align
The moon isn't fine
When you say
Your beautiful.

And I'm telling you this is wrong.
Thinking
Maybe we can fix this
But I'm screaming
"Wrong".

No fights seem to end
We will never settle this
Settle this.

The temperature
Is rising
And we are melting into
Nothing.

This is just wrong.
Feels wrong.
Looks wrong.
Stays wrong.
yo **** this ***** name jalel
whos really a woman whos tried to appeal
to be a man but understand
youll never be me im like eazy e
and you be d to r e
makin' threats but ya gets no respect
but a gun check respect the tech as load it through ya neck
ya guillotine hoppin' on th3 scene
with my sixty four creepin' slow
with 304s galore i adore
ya aint ready for war
i told you gotta put kids to bed
before midnight ****** in my sight
killin' emcees softly
not speakim' lauryn hill entice fright and thrills
make bodies freeze colder than the ice on my windmills
necklace blinging ***** im from texas
we ball lacs n throw blades on the lexus cant get with us crew be dangerous trust its a must
that ya step back or else get put flat on ya back imagine that?
me loosin to this janky ***** name jalel ya frill than a third wheel
cant even rhyme for ****
sound hesitated constipated
i patiently waited
for you to give me something to vibe but ya just too horrible
sped up ya flow fool
cuz ya sound slow as ****
i rep the old school sound the tools
from every angle
make ya bo legged like bojangles as ya body drools
nothing but blood covered
its a baptism as i continya breakin' nerves like annuerism
nad yea aint it dont stop
cuz its 187 on a muthaphukkin' flop


shut the corny *** lines up
u aint rippin' up **** but ya own ****
******' ya self with self gratification its me against the nation
im black n my brothers be ****** rasta jamaican
***** you fakin'
cant hang with the y to the o to the s to the e f
yes im fresh then a dead body on ya porch steps
sending warning scorning
while in ya morge stiff
ya family mourning
over ya cant **** with the best in the industry
do ya like james did to tammie
terrell entice hell everytime fools try to send mail
my way hop in the six tre
i got hoes to **** check my gangsta limp.
***** i am eazy e son of lost dynasty i see ya eyin me
peepin' **** cuz it hits
like a slug to ya cranium strong as titanium
got extra clips to withdraw
adn im.aimmin em
at your headpiece as ya body grows obese
bigger than della reese feast
only on the weakest i be the wickedest stick my **** in this
instrumental cant hang with me
you worse than that ***** jalel be
writing them corny *** lines
with them horrible *** rhymes
wouldn't even amount to a dime compared to mine
ya make me look flawless
rippin' vocal chords got ya jawless i be the rawest
on this competiton i got for bloodraw with no intermission
i see ya beggin'
but go back to jalel so ya can
start peggin'
each other yeaaa and it dont stop cuz its 187 on a ***** names pablo and jalel
Jon Tobias Jun 2011
This is not a poem

This is a revelation of self

This is me finding the staples that tighten my skin so that I can finally look like
a man

I know this

I love to share what makes me feel good

Especially people

I want you to feel good

I know

That I am afraid to take showers

Because the moment the water starts running there is nothing to distract my
thoughts

I can stand in the tub for days and never get wet

I know

That so many pieces of my heart

Are in way too many back pockets

My love is like a dime store flier

Beggin’ you to throw it away

Go ahead take a number

I’ll never really be whole anyway

This is not a poem

This is a revolution

Where I finally protest my body like a seizure

And give up on my heartbeat that’s beggin’ you to put your hand on my bare chest again

I know this

I am not characterized by the cancer that I thought once wanted to **** me

And I am not some cutting board

This skin is too calloused to be back stabbed again

And I will no longer stay up nights waiting for anyone to love me

And I am not

And never was

Made of anything designed by God

I know

that if you want me too

I will love you forever

And I know how to hold a grudge just as long

Like an egg on the end of a spoon in a one-man relay race

This is not a poem

This is me

Finally putting together the patchwork

And replacing the stuffing

Double stitched

so that I will not fall apart again
Jeremy Betts May 2022
The risk of takin' time to begin mendin' a broken and frozen heart is it could stop its natural rhythmic beatin' at any given moment, without adequate warnin'
Matter of fact it's bound to happen like global warmin', that's the only endin' found followin' right on the heels of drownin'
Any other prediction goin' 'round is only white noise background sound of them denyin' and rewritin' facts, specializin' in turnin' backs and bold face lyin'
I constantly find myself suffocatin' in my own skin like it's a plastic bag grippin' my face, compression at the neck, not lettin' air in
Debatin' whether or not to go all in and fight this overpowered and undefeated depression with persistence and medication, maybe some meditation and self reflection
Or should I just go ahead and give in again, puttin' in little to no effort to change the end into somethin' worth strivin' for, will there even be someone there lookin' forward to me arrivin'?
This is not pretend or manipulation, basically I'm forfeitin' due to exhaustion and frustration, handin' over the rains, just givin' my inner demon the win
I'm sick and tired of bein' tired and sick, gettin' beaten, pickin' myself up just to start takin' the walk of shame back to some new beginnin'
Plus, spoiler alert, I already know the final boss battle in this surreal engine is just gonna be against myself, once again
Same as its always been, it's not about to start changin' now, no amount of trainin' or preparation' will stop this from happenin'
Like the programer guy and I are playing a side game of chicken, he's got nothin' to lose, I've already lost everythin' holdin' out for a win that's never comin', never a celebration
I'll die if I don't keep moving 'cause I can see the next hardship comin', it's ******' gainin' on me quickly and I don't have a remedy or solution so, tail between legs, I start runnin'
I'm noticin' the **** selection, nothing good comes from either decision especially if you're plannin' on bringin' logic in as part of the equation, it should help but it's only a complication
And I'm forced to pick a direction without knowin' the destination or what I'll be facin' or what's waitin' for me at the finish lines location
Even without an imagination as dark as mine you can see its a risky expidition with low to no expectation of finishin'
Hope diminishin' past salvation, straight to damnation and a bitter end
Death awaits every person ever born, he's never missed one and I won't be the exception, it's the when I'm questionin', on my knees prayin', shiftin' seamlessly into beggin'
In one hand I could win the battle that's ragin' in between my ears, lord knows I'm tired of listenin'
On the other hand I lose the war, therefore there's no reason for even tryin', no goin' back to the beginnin', no rewindin'
I'm left nursin' a wound that's turned into an infection and its quickly spreadin', entertainin' the thought of idle hand amputation
Don't need to be an open heart surgeon, it's already been broken twice and put on ice, I'll just rip it out then hold it up for all to see before it completely stops pulsatin'
The fixation has never been on fixin' anythin' but rather dodgin' any situation that'll get me lookin' within
Possibly havin' to acknowledge I might not be worth savin', is that me speakin' or my shoulder devil at it again'?
It's gettin' harder and harder to tell the difference, both soundin' the same, the blurred line causes confusin'
I know the notion of what I'm sayin' isn't easy to comprehend much less believe in
And that's the reason why I've bottled every emotion and set them floatin' out in the vast ocean
To keep me from bein' a burden to anyone but one person, you're lookin' at him and I lie and say it's workin'
I don't know what I was thinkin' not takin' this more serious from the beginnin'
It's been ruinin' my life's mission, runnin' up a tab of bad karma that I'm gonna wind up payin'
Stoppin' all forward motion by keepin' me frightened to the point I've given up on fightin'
The results are in and it's unsettlin', I now only seem to be nothin' but a punchin' bag for Satan and his legion
I'm startin' to come undone at the seams and it seems like no one's carin' but I don't know what else I was expectin'
I could've predicted that with precision like I have the ability to be time travelin'
Knowin' for certain what the future is bringin' but I'm just goin' off of every previous lesson that left a lastin' impression
But still not seein' the big picture, fussin' over the small **** like somethin' on the roof of my mouth I can't stop tonguin'
Wastin' precious time that I could've been usin' to at least soften the blow I know is creepin' up, comin' 'round the bend with the collection plate to put my fate in
But again, I can't stop the regression long enough to gain traction, a continuation of my downward trend, market value crashin', free fallin' with no parachute or safety net to protect my noggin
I don't give myself permission to feel anythin' other than self derogation
Sleep deprivation has my dreams fadin', countin' one sheep, two sheep, ****, the rest have gone missin'
I'm left pickin' myself up and dustin' myself off, brushin' my own well bein' to the side, out of sight, out of mind, keep it hidden
All lefts, no right to weigh in even though it's my life my thoughts are playin' with, throwin' caution to the wind
And now that I'm broken beyond repair I get tossed into the compost bin lettin' somethin' else grow from me decomposin'
A form of reincarnation at worst, at best, a place to finally get some much needed rest in'
I'm no longer invested in livin', hell, I'll even sign my own death certificate, give me a pen

©2022
Jimmy King Nov 2013
You looked at me today
(When I finally forced your eyes
To meet mine)
Like I wasn't just. stranger
But a homeless man on the street,
Cursing at you and beggin you
For the dime or nickel
Which capitalist America
Demands you not give up

The time we spent the evening
Making love in your bed
You told me you wished
We were just ten years older
So we could look towards marriage
And a family.
I wonder what you think
About that night now
D Conors Aug 2010
Although the actual authenticity of this poem's authorship is questionable, Jack The Ripper was credited with sending various taunts in verse to the police during his killing spree. The following poem is especially creative and chilling...very akin to the style and sound of The Ripper's literary exchange with the authorities.
______

(Transcription)

Eight little ******, with no hope of heaven,
Gladstone may save one, then there'll be seven.
Seven little ****** beggin for a shilling,
One stays in Henage Court, then there's a killing.
Six little ******, glad to be alive,
One sidles up to Jack, then there are five.
Four and ***** rhyme aright,
So do three and me,
I'll set the town alight
Ere there are two.
Two little ******, shivering with fright,
Seek a cosy doorway in the middle of the night.
Jack's knife flashes, then there's but one,
And the last one's the ripest for Jack's idea of fun.

__

The letters of Jack The Ripper set to poetic formation. EPILOGUE. "for Jack's idea of fun."

__


With appreciation to Casebook: Jack The Ripper, the largest public repository of Ripper-related information.
http://www.casebook.org/ripper
letters/
D. Conors
09 August 2010
K-ROB Jun 2020
So, I met a cool bartender, her name is Megan
She's good people, even when I'm beggin
For a free shot, a free beer, her phone number...
She won't give it to me and that's a ******
She looks kinda like Pink but even more HOTTT
And because of her, this bar is my new favorite spot!

Megan always gives me attitude, but it's just her way...
Of saying keep dreaming girl, "I'm not gay!"
I do think she would make a real good friend,
and someone that I would stick by til the end

Megan did almost warm me about this slutty girl
When I look at Sara now it makes me want to hurl
She went home with 4 people in a week, not including me
(Megan said she almost warned me, but didn't think it was her place to say)
I guess I can see why, this girl claimed she wasn't even gay!
I just hope I didn't catch something from this *****
If I did, it's gonna be on , like a light switch!

I told Megan that is so not my style
I don't know why I am going so wild
Sara kept touching me and I told her to stay away,
So Megan helped get her off me...
And I need to tell her thanks for that, if I may!
I know I say this every other day,
I guess it's just e coping; it's just my way
But I definitely learned this time!
and now I think I'm done with this little rhyme
Throwback- written 5/13/10- this ended up framed and on the wall at that bar!
Jon Tobias Apr 2012
If I could say one last thing you'd know I was different

You’d see these walls as something else
You’d see the holes for footing

The scars on my shoulders
From the grappling hooks I’ve shaken

It’s a reflex
I’d like to reset

If I could
I’d rip the seesaw from my spine
Break the balance in the fulcrum of my chest
So when you jump away
I don’t fall from you

Call me swing set
Give my arms monkey bar bravery
So I can shimmy close enough for you to see
I want you here

I won’t try and nock you off
I am done playing chicken

I am done playing chicken
Foot on the gas pedal beggin god I run you off the road
Again

This path I am on
Is lonely

I know this

I want to tell you I love you
When I know you won’t say it back

If you could
Shake the dust from your knees
After my walls reflexed a shiver
In your embrace so hard
You fell to the floor

If you stuck around long enough
You’d see
All the cotton I swallowed
So when I heard you leaving
You wouldn’t hear me say

Stay

If I could say one last thing
You’d know
I was different
Was better
Might be ready
With enough patience

Please stay
First line donated by Nicole (Lady) Adams
Amaru Jun 2011
****,
I slipped
and
fell backwards.
Stood up on my own two feet
so as not to look awkward
but I staggered with an Obama like swagger.
I beg of you,
****, please, can we go a lil faster?
For my life expectancy
I am not the master.
I got kids and bills
legacy of a broke *******.
If I was Cancer
it'd be a disaster
cause Medicare don't take kindly to me
I owe badly.
Sadly, it's the truth
and I'ma King
and yet still get treated like
I don't have a dream!
Beams of light hit this planet
so beautiful and amazing
and yet we still take it for granted
having all these babies
without no savings.
Gotta steal and not ****
to get by lately.
Call my creditors maybe
hopin' to get a better rate
on my **** cravings.
Feel like I'm from K-Pax
stuck like Kevin Spacey.
Hate me if you want.
I don't give a ****!
You can live my life
I'll take yours and run a muck!
Dear Abby,
please don't confuse this
I really don't wanna do this
suicidal thoughts are useless.
Proved foolish
clueless is what I am
to sucka's actin' dufus!
Radio Raheim,
I know he rocked two fist.
My Mama could really give two *****.
I'm too ******!
Abused by a ****
she ain't
taken no ****!
She too ruthless.
You can call her Brutus.
If I'm taken too long
then go to another booth den (then)!
Two pens,
write with both hands.
Call me Ambidex-trian. (Ambidexterity)
If you Mexican
maybe you can request again.
Send me back from Iran
holdin' two cans.
Livin' on the streets
beggin' like po man.
Served this country
and can't get a helping hand.
Take a stand!
Remember when we used to believe in
Unite We Stand?
Yeah right!
What a joke we plan!
When words spoken to those just a slogan.
Big ups to Joe Rogan!
Knockin' *****'s out
wit' one blow man.
These words I deliver
like the local post man.
So-cam
I mean So-com
That's my sons favorite game...
This is part of a free style I put together. I like it so much I (aka Mista Woosaa) am making a music video for it.
"Do you want to see the most beautiful thing I've ever filmed? It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing, and there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this bag was just, dancing with me, like a little kid beggin' me to play with it - for fifteen minutes. And that's the day I realized that there was this entire life behind things, and this incredibly benevolent force that wanted me to know that there was no reason to be afraid, ever. Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember - I need to remember. Sometimes, there's so much beauty in the world - I feel like I can't take it, like my heart is just going to cave in.
-Ricky Fitts

She took his hand then and kissed him.
[Film: American Beauty (1999)
Screenwriter: Alan Ball
Role: Ricky Fitts
Actor: Wes Bentley]
Diana Jan 2014
Through sleepless nights and
Tired days
You fight your fights now
In a daze
The clouds are back and
Raining down
It’s so ****** up here
In this town
You’re a fighter who’s armor
Has been worn thin
Protecting others
From life’s cruel sin
You seem so tired
With eyes drooping and
Your bones aching
But you can’t give up
No, not just yet
Le gets good
You wanna bet?
You may not believe
You are strong enough
But I know you are
So I’ll call your bluff
Please, I’m beggin you
To stay a while longer
For no one else but yourself
To show that you are stronger
One day you will look back and know
Why you were meant to stay
You have a place in life
A role you were meant to live and play
So keep your head up
Through all the blows
Your life is at the start
Not the close
Peach Apr 2015
Whisper,
A careless caress of emotion
Stolen through unwilling strokes
I lack all innocence
Memory is my greatest sin

Tell me something
Tell me anything
Because I'm living,
But long dead
Trying to define what isn't mine
I'm loving who I need
Beggin' never leave

We play a different story
One last melody
Always mine

My stars lay by your side

© Peach
Sunrise
Jon Tobias Apr 2011
Trash bags climbing

Curbsides like vapid spiders

To me now

Everything is a ghost

Helpless to the current of the wind

I watch the bag collapse like an exhausted lung

And fill with the next breeze

There has never been a day where I don’t

stand like a windmill with my mouth open

Praying that I will finally get to catch my breath

I’ve stopped eating so that I might stretch myself so thin

The wind will take me like a kite

And

If I land in a tree

Please

leave me there

The leaves smell so sweet

They rustle in my ears the song

Of tiny feet scattering

In all the right directions

Can feel them tickle down my spine

Like an epiphany shiver

I got this itch to move

And I’m begin’ god for Dorothy’s tornado

To come and take me away

‘cause these legs walk me into all the wrong places

I want to be helpless to something more powerful than myself

Say

“I’m sorry I ****** things up

But this tornado

it planted me here in your lap”

Show you how it’s not my fault I’m not perfect

Nobody is

Doesn’t feel right though

The fire that made my heart

And the ocean that salted my tears

The wind that’s beggin’ to whisk me away from here

Is telling me otherwise

I think

Helium

Think

Feather

Think

Kite

Think

empty trash bag on the curb collapsing like a dying jellyfish
Jon Tobias Jun 2011
Never realized your lungs were a cannon

Spittin’ words back in my mouth

Keepin’ me tongue tied and twisted

Never realized how the lead in my feet

Kept me neck deep in your sorrow

Never realized giving up

Meant handing over my pride

I gave it over willingly enough

You kept its backbone

And returned it

So I ate it

Tasted like envy and heartache

Slithered like spaghetti into my gut

Kept my voice breaking during songs of tomorrow

And took out my knees on days I decided to run

I found my voice

Buried under the rocks that I threw at glass houses

I ate that glass and the rocks

Built boulders of bone

Crushed from inside of myself

Now

My voice is made of scar tissue

And my heart is made of rocks

I got a train inside myself

Hellbent on breakin’ daylight

Whistle blowin' the sound of home

I have seen

Nights beggin' to break the sound of lonely

Rustling in bed by myself

And dreamt of days

More meaningful than this one

I’m done waiting for people to save me

I’m done trying to keep a tune

I am done eating my glass houses

And picking up the pieces when I'm through
Emily Pidduck Dec 2013
sweet, sweet boy
i've seen you a-sittin' there
waiting for that older girl
with those bright eyes
and kind smile.

now southern boy
dont you drop a penny
cause she's a rich girl with class
and yer not gettin' her chastity
and yer not takin' her money
cause yer a proud son of an ***

and broken boy
why you still not takin' no bandages?
cause yer stubbornness is breakin' er
when yer the one who's bleedin'
oh, i can see it all repeatin'

what you dont know is she loves you
and yer in love too
but all this time you been thinking its sympathy
got this idea that you mean nothing to nobody
boy it's hurtin' er
it's hurtin me

cause baby boy
i see you as my own
im a-thinkin' you need to take a stand
she might be a stunner
only one who don take you as a sinner
but youve been forgettin'
that though shes a fine woman
y'always been a real good man

angel boy
seen you cryin' tears
shes paradin' round
with a polished fella'
but why you aint been askin' her
"whens the weddin'"
when you think its comin'
honey, no girl in love
shows up at some lib'ary
when theres a man who orders sherry
im a-sure you feel
but you don see it
and sure as nothin' do you believe it

waitin', waitin' boy
how long you gon be sittin' there
that girl gave you time
but you didnt use it
and now im crying'
cause son
i can tell theres still love
but shes been taken
and now yer a drunk

lost, lost boy
im a-beggin' here
find trust
cause i know its not her fault
and she thinks it was
and now we both afraid
cause you not even tryin' a-hide it
but yer becomin' yer father
and he was filled with hate

hes a gone, gone boy
im a sinner with a prayer
that her husband dies
an he drops the liquor
and they both survive


but, hes an old, old man
read with a drawl, the only example I can think is from "the help"
Jon Tobias Apr 2011
Every thought I have is you

Even when I finally managed to stop involuntarily whispering your name,

On cold mornings

I see it on my breath

Like Carrol’s caterpillar

Askin’

Who

Are you?

That’s the problem

I already know who you are

Now I am tryin’ to forget

But I can’t

I made some promises that I need to keep

For instance

I said I would never let them bury you

And we somehow managed to find our way into burning buildings

I told you how I keep my heart in my throat to trap the air in my chest

So that I would stop gasping in your presence

I inhale smoke sometimes

And I cried

When they brought me your blackened breastplate

Heart still beating a fire

Looked like the sun

There’s a universe in you

And now it’s in me too

Gives off this light that is almost blinding

So that when I rub my eyes

The iridescent reflection of them on the back of my lids

Is the same color as yours

Same color as gasoline on pavement

Makes me wanna set this world on fire

Only way to stop seeing you everywhere

Like the ****** Mary

I saw you in my oatmeal

Heard you in a wind chime

Whisperin’ like the wind

Beggin me to consider life like a skipped heartbeat

You ****** me when you left

Forgot me like a puzzle

Soda stained on a coffee table

I got black holes in my universe

And now every thought I have is you

You are in every word I speak

In every sound I hear

Even my breath

spells your name
Jon Tobias Jul 2011
Rabo Karabekian said all our souls are neon tubes of light
If that is true
I know mine always flickers
Especially when I am scared
And if you knew Morse code
My soul would flash to you

“LOVE ME”                                                                                  

If you place your hands on my chest
You would see
My heart beats

“FREEDOM”                                                                              

The broken Braille of the goose bumps
That I get when I am cold
They say

    “HOLD ME”                                                                            

If you were blind
And you
Dragged your hands across the terrain of my face
Every pock mark and scar
Would make you think I was the moon
And when you got to my mouth
Warm from the breath I try to hold
When you’re near me
You’d realize
There really is a man in there

Underneath the warning signs
And flashes of light
When the sounds from the pleads for help stop
And you can finally hear me breathin’
You’ll see the message that I was supposed to give to you
Read what it says on my skin

“Underneath is a man                                                                        
Who keeps the dark and the stars to his back so he can always face you                              
Some days his distance feels cruel                                                          
Some days his smile is ugly                                                                  
But his heart                                                                            
When it’s not beating so hard that it’s beggin’                                              
For freedom                                                                              
It’s full of love                                                                            
There is still dust in his lungs                                                              
For he does not use his voice much                                                        
But he can hold you like a lullaby”

— The End —