Cam Arsenault Dec 2012
Oh, how I always wanted to live in an 8-bit world
Side-scrolling action
Duck hunts galore
As much currency as a first-world country
It’s hard not to love it
From Pokémon to Kid Icarus
The nostalgia nearly takes my breath away
I won’t let problems stack up like Tetris
I’m not being chased by ghosts crying,
“Wacka, wacka, wacka, wacka, wacka”
This isn’t a video game, it’s real life
When you die you don’t respawn like nothing ever happened
No, this is it. One life.
I’m placing blocks in Minecraft
Pwning n00bz in Call of Duty
Gaining headshots on Grunts like Master Chief
Gathering rings in Sonic the Hedgehog
Sneaking around like Ezio Auditore da Firenze
And delivering newspapers like Paperboy
While escaping the mysterious Slenderman
I’m living in this virtual world without danger
I don’t want to make it on these streets like Frogger
I don’t have big shoes to fill like the plumber or the blue blur
This ain’t no sandbox or first-person shooter, it’s reality
So, live it to the fullest, don’t rage quit
First full poem.
Charlie Blue Jan 2015
I think I've always been a little bit in love with you
Through every thing
Through the times that  I've hated you
And the times you've let me down
I think I've always been a little bit in love with you
Through the distance
The relationships
One night stands
And friends with benefits that left you hurting someone else
Because I think I've always been a little bit in love with you
When I'm high
When I'm low
And the days in between when I can not manage to go through a day without thinking about you
And that's when I realize that
I've been in love with you
A little bit
A little bit too often
A little bit too much
While you have been a little bit too selfish to notice
heidi May 2011
A barraster at law no less
I wouldnt trust I must confess
Looking down your pointed nose
seductively holding pose
Your linkedIn profile
who could see
just how you get your
filthy fee

Perverted farming
Filthy creeps
In Hi ace vans
and blacked out jeeps
Gratefully they pay their fee
In return for an STD

Heres the justice overflow
For Nank and wank and gigolo
I'm returning him to you
When I scrape him from my shoe
For you my dear a final fact
His STD is still intact!
Katrina Wendt Nov 2011
Stop showing
You love me
A little at a time.

Stop saying
You care
Bit by bit.

Stop keeping
Me here
For tiny pieces of time.

Because I need
All of you
Not piece by piece.

I love
All of you
Not just some parts of you.

So love all of me
All the way
All the time.

Or let all of me go
All at once
For good.
with an Apple Macintosh
you can't run Radio Shack programs
in its disc drive.
nor can a Commodore 64
drive read a file
you have created on an
IBM Personal Computer.
both Kaypro and Osborne computers use
the CP/M operating system
but can't read each other's
for they format (write
on) discs in different
the Tandy 2000 runs MS-DOS but
can't use most programs produced for
the IBM Personal Computer
unless certain
bits and bytes are
but the wind still blows over
and in the Spring
the turkey buzzard struts and
flounces before his
Isabelle H Graye Jul 2014
I am a nerd:
* DnD
* Harry Potter
* Lord of the Rings
* WoW
* Anime
* Reading
* Video Games
* Comic book heroes
* Science
* Math
* Hunger games
* Steampunk
* Disney!!!
* Futurama
* Star Wars
* Doctor Who
* Breaking Bad
* Archer
* 90's Cartoons
* Invader Zim

I am a Metal head \m/
* Nightwish
* Sabaton
* Ozzy Osbourne
* Iron Maiden
* Epica
* Van Canto
* Dealian
* Hammerfall
* DragonForce

I love my life:
* My love
* My family
* My Job as a preschool teacher
* having fun

This is who I am and I don't care if any one thinks of me!
Shvaugn Craig Nov 2013
em>bit by bit

beneath the grasp of your hand
against my neck        the pull
of my hair against my scalp
and the burning gasp
that is wrenched
from the confines of my throat
i will build it
bit by bit
stick by stick
pebble by pebble
and bone by bone
this city        paradise
stretched along the length of my back
a river flowing between
the blades of my shoulders
white fog along the edge
of my skin        blue
and purple flowers blooming
deep within the spaces
of my ribs
while the red crunch of autumn
dries clean and crusted
between my lips

and in the end
this is perfect        regardless
of your absence i
am still building
and growing and
constructing and colonizing
and reclaiming the land
you took
away from me

bit by bit
i'll pave over
the remainders
of your presence

Richard Riddle Jun 2015
In my "Thought for the Day XLIII" (43), I spoke of poets that have been with me, and supported me for quite some time. Sally and Pradip have been with me since my first posting, "1894", nearly two years ago, and I have  "adopted"  Vicki, Catherine, Ryn, Deborah, Pamela Rae,and others along the way. There is Quinn, Phil, Pradip, Francie, Frankie J, Mike, John, Nat, SE Reimer, Sverre, "The 'Ole Storyteller!" and,"Larry, Moe, and Curly Joe!"  
Unfortunately, I cannot list everyone, in fear of overlooking writers who, collectively, mean so much to me. Please forgive me for that.
I will continue to "do my best" for all of the poets/writers/contributors to the HP site. I do not write for monetary remuneration, but for relaxation and recreation, with the end result, hopefully, bringing a smile to my peers. I thank all of you for allowing me to attempt, and occasionally, reach that goal.

Richard Riddle- June 03, 2015
Julie Grenness Oct 2015
Pathological neurotic co-dependency,
Rhymes with toilet brush gastroendoscopy,
I visualise that toilet brush,
Shoved down his throat thrush,
Or up his male tush,
Not even an excuse for a man,
Bullies don't get, says my nan,
Way too early to be awake,
Way too early to cook him steak,
What does he think he's going to eat?
That toilet brush he'll meet and greet,
Pathological neurotic co-dependency,
Rhymes with toilet brush gastroendoscopy,
All budget friendly and medicine free,
(Guess who swallowed the dictionary!!!!)
Feedback welcome.
Aditi Mar 2015
You are the only antidote to the pain you caused
But like everything that could save me
You just ended up tearing me out
And i was hoping you would come
before there was nothing left to fix
And you came
but i was already gone
now this shell of the girl i used to be
remains to remind you of what you have lost

You were the only escape i had to these tragedies
that laid scattered all around me
but like everything that could have helped me
you were a bit too out of my reach
And i was hoping you'd take a step to bridge the gap
maybe you did
but it was a bit too late
i was already in too deep
to ever surface again

You had the touch that could keep me from falling
a million suns in your soul that could unfreeze me
but like every hope, you chose to forsake me
And i kept hoping and praying you'd see
how The cold kept burning the life out of me
maybe you would have, maybe you did
but life had already left me
never to come to me
You were the one
i would write these poems for
but unlike every person who got impressed
you were still left untouched and cold
Sam Temple Jan 2014
reservation nation
servicing recreationists
reciting revolutionary rhymes
revolving door rotating returning solders
spinning their horrors into heroics
for ratings
waiting for the new issue
red-faced re-readers
realist television
rectifies reality
and recidivism rates plummet
rocks roll ‘round rotund refrigerators
reeling from the ruckus
right-wing retards revolt
against racial regrouping
reconnected writers ring rust
oxidized lives realize the rules
and renovate
the red tide
remember the rich and reach
for the wretched youth
writhing in rancid rubber tires and rutabagas
rotten rats rush through the rubbish
and the rhubarb blooms
I have to share you,

But that’s okay with me.

Just a little bit of competition,

Because she calls you ‘daddy.’
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