"betch" poems
Sunsets.
Growing up I never liked the nights, As a child it signified the end of play with the rule that you had to be indoors at dawn.
I remember the evil ticking sound of the tremulous hands of time as we were separated from our friends,
with the sun wrapping up in the fragrant petals of the freezing cold nights.
A spirit locked inside a world of silence and pure nothingness.
The hot fire sparks assaulting my fragile skin of the hands over the fire at the compulsory fireplace,It's streaks of sorrow still trace their way into my soul.
Until the day [God knows when] I saw the beauty of colors blending together, forming a magical hue through (You guessed it.)
a cheap camera lens.
Sunset is twice as beautiful through a camera lens.
Now more than ever I go sit at my betch, snap the beautiful sunsets, and caption them with a nervous pulse knowing it’ll soon end. Only fair since nothing lasts forever.
Darkness closes in, the fun begins. I reach for your hand.
"Come with me into darkness."
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 4:36 AM UTC
dat betch iz out of mi liek 4 gud & out of mi baez lief bc she a sloot & nu 1 lek hur & she st00pid & sh3 tri 2 taek me bae but she didmt taek him & ily bae
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 3:07 PM UTC
"So, you just keep bleeding?"
"Yep."
"And you just don't stop?"
"Nope."
"Well, I sure am sorry about that."
"Betch'you are."
"Really. I am. But I have to go."
And with that, she left me
The water running
Getting colder and colder until
A glacial layer of cold breath
And a thick film of icy memories
Enveloped me
And washed down the drain
Along with the inky
Red of my open veins
Jun 6, 2012
Jun 6, 2012 at 12:19 AM UTC
Tiger stripe- midnight counting down the hours until i can see again
& on the way home(alone...yes)I swear I saw something in the hedgerow//rhyme//shudder
something, something, SOMETHING BIG
it was moving, it was watching me & licking its lips
it knew my name, my real name
it said
they're right you know
it...IT
it sounded like Miles Davis on those recordings when you hear him say something off mic to the engineer
it said
is that what you wanted
are you happy
what do you want
what do you want
what do you want
i was running
it was chasing
it was tethered to my boot heel
it was on wheels
it howled like a BETCH
the lights of passed houses lighted up
the wife was saying
what was that noise, honey, honey, what was that noise.. go look
the husband was sleeping
the husband was buddha'd
i ran to my car
locked the door
put on the shipping forecast
slept on the backseat
morning came
SCHLINGG!
Apr 17, 2012
Apr 17, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC
The figure moved; "let by gones be by gones
n'all" called the other reaching for gun.
Shadow flashed, eyes witnessed unsong;
"bound soul flitting shade bound, n'all!" gun sung.
As the bank clerk accosted sought shelter,
the barrelled void looked on with glee. Happy?
What a time to shine we've a belter,
and I'll betch ya bare presents from me.
Animate beings the devils in deets
Replete we so are and we suffer.
In-animacy, the terms quite discreet,
and our ignorance hampers our buffer.
For guns everywhere, unloading despair,
pushing and crushing; the barrels grim stare.
Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 6:46 PM UTC
You slid a finger
down the inside
of your left arm
in imitation
of a knife blade.
Nurses passed by
back and forth
busy making beds
in the locked ward.
I sat on the sofa
looking at you
standing there.
Your slim finger
left a feint line
of pinkness.
The Scottish woman
stood by the doorway
smoking and moaning
about the Indian woman
who she said
stunk tha place
ta hell.
Music from the radio
pushed out pop
or DJ crap.
You walked past
the Scottish moaner
into the other part
of the ward.
I watched you
walk away
how the short
dressing gown
held you close.
You beckoned me
to follow
with a curved finger.
I stood up
and walked past
the Scottish woman.
Cannae ya smell
tha stinking betch?
She said.
I said no
although I had
but not wanting
to say.
She moaned on
but I walked away.
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 8:26 AM UTC
Faygo and ******* **** and a little braded naughty nancy who ain't really named nancy Tom Clansy sheets nasty. ***** nasty. Sheets nasty thats frequent from the New York jogger flopping floppy frogger. She stunk like hose water pan handling cleanly. Oh and touch my weeny weeny from the scene where Scheen bees. Hurt my hind haunches like the stank from the seat where old Ponch sits. Cooties grissle cookies wish, I wished yes betch I ****** up I bet-cha you're a ******* **** that facades as a proof fan because my homie used to use my Moving Van, but ****** I don't know your crow's feet until. Well.Well. Well know until this thesis because I wanted to write how more I **** **** with Rechard Simmons on the Weeknd's Porsche hood with permission because we isn't weight bizz-nitch. I'm itching Oren Ishy Iishi can you open up the crusty crumble, Wait I waxed my ******* ******* waste on bleach. I ******* bleached her *** buster with more catching up then mustard sauce. **** your Oddity I'll grab enough ***** from Fun-yun bags that reak fathered pharamones. Oh. I moaned Oh. Oh. Oh. I moaned.
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 4:59 PM UTC