"bizarrely" poems
Only until this cigarette is ended,
A little moment at the end of all,
While on the floor the quiet ashes fall,
And in the firelight to a lance extended,
Bizarrely with the jazzing music blended,
The broken shadow dances on the wall,
I will permit my memory to recall
The vision of you, by all my dreams attended.
And then adieu,—farewell!—the dream is done.
Yours is a face of which I can forget
The color and the features, every one,
The words not ever, and the smiles not yet;
But in your day this moment is the sun
Upon a hill, after the sun has set.
18.1k
When did news parody
stop being funny?
Was it somewhere between
Alan Jackson’s 9/11 cash-in
and Donald Trump’s hair?
Was it BoJo stranded on a zipline over London,
or Cameron’s alleged porcine relations
(bizarrely black-mirroring fiction)?
When did the news
start doing Chris Morris’ job for him?
When did they start
pre-satirising the headlines?
“No evidence mermaids exist,” says US Government.
Swimming pool evacuated after prosthetic leg is mistaken for **********
Robots follow Marco Rubio to South Carolina.
I swear, I didn’t
make any of those up.
The actors on Saturday Night Live
are more statesmanlike
than the Presidential Primary Candidates they’re lampooning.
How the hell do they breed these
creatures? These gurning,
overgrown foetuses with their
conveniently dead ****** sisters to get
all wet-eyed and tumescent over,
their boomingly hollow controversy and
their total, catastrophic
crashes of personality.
These loathsome
organic constructs who would seem
more relatable and trustworthy if
their image consultants made them wear
Nixon masks for every
public appearance.
When did it all become
this strange, sick spoof
of itself?
Is there no one left in Britain who can make a sandwich?
Man dressed as penguin receives more votes than the Liberal Democrats.
Piers Morgan given jail time for illegally hacking ‘phones and gloating about it.
Okay.
I made the last one up.
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 6:07 AM UTC
Maybe I should even try to both be
the sooner you'll get rid of feedback because they're all
Sometimes I should sing most when my state of mind
Not in a set of cards with yoga pose instructions I'm currently going
I'm tired and beautiful and cute
I'm tired and bored out
...
Oh yeah I need all
People are somewhat murky and shallow in order to show you
WHY DO something
I'm tired of *being a ****** person.*
...
It's really don't wanna impose anything.... But anybody want
...
I'm tired and conflicted.
Ugh I've been wondering about for ice cream to attempt to message certain people
Uck. It say
...
I really don't know
never thought I'd hate for the person
Sometimes I feel and smell of things to do
That's not an ice is weighing me
It's really painful most of the base of personal information about me, or going
...
But eating shrimp feels weirdly like
...
No, everything is predestined to die from embarrassment and/or maybe guilt. But it's just like
That magical feminist is running the only have you
You have a finger at getting people
...
My staircase is bizarrely comfortable to everything ever
Aluk op oal ilcä aäcij ulrü cujy ulsu wäsyn cujy rincy cyykky cujy ürsäüpyu ipuincy kurky jü siij urir cu lina uij rüyl opam suasäcij kyäc kuläypincy di.
That magical feminist is the stuff
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 1:41 AM UTC
There's a guy dressed up as Freddie Kruger for Halloween
Freddie Kruger can't sing the high part during Eye Of The Tiger
I murmur something to my friend
Me: Freddie Crooner
My friend laughs more than he needs to
We aren't sure whose whiskey sour is whose anymore
My roommate doesn't want to sing in front of people
She'd rather hide in her glass and mingle with the ice
But I make her duet a Nirvana song with me
Which we scream and she starts having fun
The crowd claps with relief when we're done
Freddie Kruger offers me a fist bump
A group of sweet plump ladies takes turns singing love ballads
They all have pretty voices and work at Bubba Gump on the pier
The one that sang the Adele song is studying business
She tells me while we smoke outside during Wonder Wall
I sing nine minutes of Meatloaf
My voice cracks and growls like feedback
This guy buys me a shot afterwards
My throat is so dry that I have to drink it in tiny sips
This guy thinks me and my friends are fun
I duet Desperado with him and we knock over stools and laugh
He has clearly never heard the song Desperado before
Me and my friends invite the whole bar to sing an Aerosmith song together
I think that this may be the only way to really appreciate Aerosmith
I drive my roommate and my self back to our apartment
I'm drunk but I pretend I'm sober so she won't get scared
Then sometimes I laugh bizarrely to scare her a little bit
But always end up lying and reassuring her that I'm sober
We start talking about Lou Reed because he had died that day
I guess Lou Reed didn't like when people said RIP
Which I had written in my facebook status about him dying
I don't really care much because Lou Reed wasn't really a friend of mine
I just liked his music
And he never mentions in any of his songs anything
About people saying RIP
When we got to the bar the first thing I did
Was to look for a Lou Reed song to sing
But there weren't any
So I sang other songs instead
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 6:04 PM UTC
The description of my affliction grasps the friction of a worthy depiction to my addiction in a position feeling the infliction of my minds worst prediction..
Unleashed skeletons distinguished in the flight of pelicans severing the embellishing of savored intelligence longing for sweet repentance revealing relief that goes the distance..
Searching for clarity that never ending morality my mind takes on high hilarity in the crushed arms of polarity assembling the modularity of my brain screws in chastity releasing all of the bottled-in charity of my restless audacity...
As all that's buried beneath takes turn within my rocky caverns that burn I release my tactiturn of the aches and pains the spurn I've been able to learn bounty of my earn comes to term as I yearn for freedom of silent concern if I can disinfect this germ like cleansing the embodiment of the smoked sherm I will be clear of the uncoiled fern slithering about as a pristine worm..
Deeply inside my head I've swum like the graceful swan in the pond that I come to grow fond classified the demimond upon no formed bond twisting my thoughts my top has spun uncontrollably making me dumb my darkest secrets tucked in the gun behind the chamber of obligated fun partaking of the glazeless bun that's so scrumptious to my tum tum I can never find riddance playing the war drum but if I fail now my utterance is done now if all coincide with my tone I may finally speak out and be gone...
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
Following two decades time
A human transforms
Into an exploding cosmos
In the desolate void
Floating away
Flickering light
Questions of purpose
In the haze of dismay
Fear not of this barren
Let it fuel the flame
Move further and farther
In the deepest of abyss
For the cosmos within
Will unfold and evolve
The lessons as your light
In the dark, cold rise
Remember these words
As you travel through space
You are bizarrely infinite
A celestial design
Oct 3, 2024
Oct 3, 2024 at 7:43 PM UTC
A stark shaded light swings
From the office ceiling
Making cartoon shadows chase
Crazily around the walls
She stands on one leg
Quite easily and bizarrely
And types with her other foot
Tapping the lettered keys
With the stiletto heel of her shoe
And hanging in the juggling rays of light
There is a trilby hat with teeth and no eyes
Wearing a raincoat indoors
Ectoplasmic cigarette smoke coils
A trilling piano
Tickles around a neon light
Somewhere
Out there
The stiletto becomes a cigarette holder
Daintily dribbling ash
****** trumpet notes insinuate
Sliding brass around the walls
Overlaying the chasing shadows
Teeth do a flash-bulb grin
The top comes off a bottle
And two glasses are splashed into
Negotiations are pursued
A flirting of commerce
Flash!
That grin again
A service has been purchased
Glasses *****
The light still swings
A jazz singer sings
Pouring sweetness over the neon light
Somewhere
Out there
Outside the moon scowls in silver
A pistol writes an anonymous threat
And with inappropriate optimism
The chorus presents
A monstrous garish dance routine
Bang!
And screams off-stage
The dance becomes the soft-shoe scatter
Hands slide inside double-breasted jackets
The cops howlingly arrive!
Car doors slam, bam!
But all players have dispersed
The night is seamless again
And a lazy jazz band plays
Behind the neon light
Somewhere
Out there
By Phil Roberts
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 3:52 AM UTC
I am in a labyrinth in my mind.
An endless maze, of lefts and rights and turns and corners
It stretches on, and just when I think I have reached the end, I toss myself back in
And it all looks the same
Yet so bizarrely different
I'm trying to find you
And I have such a longing to find you
But yet I know I am so, so lost
And I don't know how
And I want instructions - where do I go?
Is there a destination I must reach?
Is there a lesson to be learned?
A turning point?
Is time the only factor?
I don't want to be lost.
I want to find you.
Please, let me find you.
I want to find myself.
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 3:21 PM UTC
A stark shaded light swings
From the office ceiling
Making cartoon shadows chase
Crazily around the walls
She stands on one leg
Quite easily and bizarrely
And types with her other foot
Tapping the lettered keys
With the stiletto heel of her shoe
And hanging in the juggling rays of light
There is a trilby hat with teeth and no eyes
Wearing a raincoat indoors
Ectoplasmic cigarette smoke coils
A trilling piano
Tickles around a neon light
Somewhere
Out there
The stiletto becomes a cigarette holder
Daintily dribbling ash
****** trumpet notes insinuate
Sliding brass around the walls
Overlaying the chasing shadows
Teeth do a flash-bulb grin
The top comes off a bottle
And two glasses are splashed into
Negotiations are pursued
A flirting of commerce
Flash!
That grin again
A service has been purchased
Glasses *****
The light still swings
A jazz singer sings
Pouring sweetness over the neon light
Somewhere
Out there
Outside the moon scowls in silver
A pistol writes an anonymous threat
And with inappropriate optimism
The chorus presents
A monstrous garish dance routine
Bang!
And screams off-stage
The dance becomes the soft-shoe scatter
Hands slide inside double-breasted jackets
The cops howlingly arrive!
Car doors slam, bam!
But all players have dispersed
The night is seamless again
And a lazy jazz band plays
Behind the neon light
Somewhere
Out there
By Phil Roberts
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 3:29 PM UTC
A stark shaded light swings
From the office ceiling
Making cartoon shadows chase
Crazily around the walls
She stands on one leg
Quite easily and bizarrely
And types with her other foot
Tapping the lettered keys
With the stiletto heel of her shoe
And hanging in the juggling rays of light
There is a trilby hat with teeth and no eyes
Wearing a raincoat indoors
Ectoplasmic cigarette smoke coils
A trilling piano
Tickles around a neon light
Somewhere
Out there
The stiletto becomes a cigarette holder
Daintily dribbling ash
****** trumpet notes insinuate
Sliding brass around the walls
Overlaying the chasing shadows
Teeth do a flash-bulb grin
The top comes off a bottle
And two glasses are splashed into
Negotiations are pursued
A flirting of commerce
Flash!
That grin again
A service has been purchased
Glasses *****
The light still swings
A jazz singer sings
Pouring sweetness over the neon light
Somewhere
Out there
Outside the moon scowls in silver
A pistol writes an anonymous threat
And with inappropriate optimism
The chorus presents
A monstrous garish dance routine
Bang!
And screams off-stage
The dance becomes the soft-shoe scatter
Hands slide inside double-breasted jackets
The cops howlingly arrive!
Car doors slam, bam!
But all players have dispersed
The night is seamless again
And a lazy jazz band plays
Behind the neon light
Somewhere
Out there
By Phil Roberts
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 7:16 AM UTC
We tend to be self-destructive
And for what do we owe that to?
For whom and what reasons,
Do we rip these parts of ourselves,
Trying to piece it in the oddest of places, when so glaringly obvious
that they don't belong?
We cry endless oceans of tears
Drowning in them, bizarrely,
For our own indulgence! But
at the same time, we're
thrashing in the currents,
Praying for dry land while
also surrendering all hope.
Oct 31, 2020
Oct 31, 2020 at 12:46 PM UTC
Thinking of a metaphor
to explain everything that is happening to me is closer to impossible than anything I've ever tried before
But I have to try
Before my sanity leaks out a little more
My ears strain themselves as if bothered by a bizarrely loud screech
Yet all I can hear is the rain hitting the back padio
Reminding me of the rain begging to pour out of my core
It must be the cries of my heart causing my ears pain, as it pounds ribs waiting for the door of my mouth to open for a chance to speak
About the things that once acted their way through my souls opening
And in the meantime I must dig deeper than magma to find a temperature I can feel
With so much to say, but so little time
I will get the rest out in these next few lines
I hate that I hate every hateful breath I inhale
But I solemnly love that I am willing to live for the dieing in which I can overwhelming satisfied exhale
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 11:32 AM UTC
I love you and I used to could talk about it
But now it feels like manual labor
forming orders inside my mouth.
I want to say “when did it all come to be so hard?”
But it has always been this way, hasn’t it?
reasons Reasons REASONS
For bizarrely monogamous reasons
it has always been hard to talk about the way
I love you.
We were married and that was
reasons.
And then we were married but IN LOVE and that was
Reasons.
Then we were divorcing and HURTING and that was
REASONS.
And now we are friends and have all new
ReAsOnS
Sep 22, 2020
Sep 22, 2020 at 12:41 AM UTC
I guess I feel like eight months ago was just yesterday and my parents were driving away in their dodge as I walked back to the dorms.
And my heart broke because I knew that in that car, an argument was starting and ending with “I hate you.”
And I knew that somehow nothing would ever be the same once I swiped my card and walked through that door.
And that night I met you, and I wondered how my life could ever be the same with someone so wonderfully dangerous and dangerously wonderful.
I never knew that you were so perfectly damaged in such a bizarrely attractive kind of way.
I never knew that you would bring out my damaged side and cause my perfect side to disappear with my inhibitions.
And I never knew that my life would tumble down the tubes of insanity and frivolity as I stayed up too late and slept in too late and forgot the things that mattered until it was too late.
And I guess that after those things happened, it seemed like yesterday that I walked away after fighting with him, saying things about you that I didn’t want to mean and that I didn’t want to be true, but I did and they were.
And I guess that I had no one to blame but myself.
And I guess I wanted to blame you, because it feels like yesterday that I walked out that dormitory door and out into the street, waiting for all of my yesterdays to catch up and flash before my bloodshot and teary eyes.
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 6:35 PM UTC
Former CIA Director
John Brennan scathing headlines
Washington Post op-ed sharply
published critical accusations
muted excoriation slams
Commander in Chief
volcanic blatant pathological lying
spews like lava his American
foreign policy boilerplate brazenly
bastardizes by banditry blueprint,
balefully balkanizing beautiful bracketed
booming brady bunch brand,
bests best-buy buffer braking balanced
bastion, bolstered beloved benighted
bequeathed bicameral bipartisan bliss,
Baptizing bacchanalian buffoonish bombast,
betokening bobble-headed Bumstead,
barmy bartered bride bravado, bizarrely
brash brassiness, blindsiding behavior,
beetlebrowed bonehead, bafflingly baldfaced,
bankrupting, blithely bollixing,
bombastically belittling, badmouthing,
banally blasting, banana-boat baseless,
bearish blandishments, beastly boastful
boosterism, bellicosely boorish, bug-eyed,
bighearted, bigoted blathering breeding
blunderbuss bloopers, bewildering
bloodletting bellyache blight,
brazenly being bandying bellwether,
blitzing bourgeoisie balderdash,
balking but beaming barbaric
berserk ballyhoo backbiting,
backslapping backstabbing
blacklisting bromides,
besetting basic bestowed blooming,
Bobbitizing bedeviling beneficial
bulwark bereft badinage, ballistically ballooning
betrayal birthing bedlam.
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
Longing for the old days
Simple days
Times when you could ask "what's this song?" a hundred times
And every time, in reply:
"Darude sandstorm"
Aug 14, 2021
Aug 14, 2021 at 12:00 PM UTC
My most precious memory of you is the last photo we took together.
Your gaze was calm and mesmerizing, full of intentions impossible to enumerate.
Your famous mischievous smile almost seemed innocent in contrast to your mocking tongue, which displayed the secret jewel that adorned it.
But that wasn't the boldest decoration of your body.
Some of it was born with you, like the three perfectly aligned birthmarks below your left eye. Others you decided to bring to light, like your fascinating and terrifying lilac eyes, and your silver hair, pieces of the moon Herself melting over your head.
You were bizarrely lovely.
Like a good dream that would make waking up sweeter, you became my most beloved fantasy.
It ran through your veins a natural drug that you secretly shared with me and the world would become colorful as a deranged kaleidoscope every time we started flying.
And then, tragedy.
The world turned into gray, the color of your new uniform and ugly handcuffs.
Never again did a fun day come, just new horrific scars.
They cut off your wings, bound your hands, and plucked what they called “your abominable eyes”.
Screams, cries, and revolts did nothing to save you. Soon, there was only silence.
Lost and desperate, I decided to imprison myself in the same darkness into which you were thrown, attempting to be united to you again.
That picture became a blade that cut deep into my brain as it reminded me of how beautiful our madness was.
So I became blind, just like you.
My sky never again had bright, endless lilac stars that colored my life.
We were forced to discover sanity is not so pleasant...
Jan 25, 2020
Jan 25, 2020 at 3:26 PM UTC
The world once birthed an eternal fire
that lived in the form of two entities
A raging inferno only known to a certain pair who were unaware of their identities.
Labyrinths far and wide, steep and shallow did they go searching
for their desire for one another was a ceaseless kind of yearning.
Disillusioned and exhausted, the pair retreat to tend to their wounds
their flames now nearly fizzled with the scent of malefic fumes.
On the day that was the seventh of June, the pair bizarrely united to their amaze
and with their existence alone, they rekindled their flames.
With fervor and glowing spirits the pair fused together with a promise
the day which was the 31st of August.
The world once birthed an eternal fire
that lived in the form of two entities.
To this day they incinerate with pleasure:
Their flames will burn forever.
Sep 3, 2020
Sep 3, 2020 at 12:59 PM UTC