"blabber" poems
The colors I wished to touch
I finally did on a still wild parrot
Beneath the electric pole
That woke up now and then
In angry alien blabber.
I don't know if I like
Those colors any more.
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
I heard from a little birdie
That you've been talking about me
When I'm not there to defend myself
You're a sneaky ***** aren't you
What were you trying to do?
What were you trying to achieve
I mean
Please explain to me
What you meant by
"Blabber mouth"
"Annoying"
"Needs to shut up"
Because I'm confused
Now this is the part were you deny it
Say I'm wrong
That what you want anyway
But you see
When you're a *****
You don't win
And you don't get what you want
I'm glad I found out now
Or else things might be worse
Because there are so many things you are
2-faced is just one
And you can say all you want about me
I mean you already do
So go ahead and call me a *****
Thats ok
Because Rae
It takes a *****
To know a *****
*****
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
you are the Pres
Oh Donald Trump
it seems like America
has hit a bump
your pitiful braggart
mean as a cuss
a bludgeon for a mouth
with a mind full a ****
its understood
you hate the press
you like the shadows
to relieve your stress
well big boy
you are the man
some people say
your loved by the clan
thanks for telling us
about the size of your *****
while conservatives smile
and give it a lick
your a star studded pageant
of confusion and lies
do you work for Putin
are you one of his spies
show us your taxes
are you a ***** for a foe
are you owned by a devil
we need to know
your purging the swamp
is that what you say
Exxon and Goldman-sax
so thats how you play
you talk so big
why not give it a rest
lets see what you can do
besides be a pest
it doesn't bode well
that you don't pay your bills
let subcontractors go under
so what if it kills
break up some families
of Latin decent
with a heart like a razor
are you really that bent
are you big blabber mouth
but don't a have clue
about our constitution
that keeps us true
we trust you completely
let your kids to the job
no problem at all
are you still friends with the mob
are ethics for others
ah to hard for Trump
will America wither
are you cancerous lump
we need some one
who can help us out
not a reckless fool
that fills us with doubt
you are the Pres
Oh Donald Trump
it seems like America
has hit a bump
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 9:07 PM UTC
In to the mystery of the night, i wander
the tangled tarantula garden
canopied with prophesies of light,
Lit windows are making
overtures to desires
night unleashes at these hours,
hear the buzz in the air
its time to make love,
darkness forgets hurt and embraces light.
i walk alone,
but an enchanting witch wait
for me somewhere in a garden bench,
to take me by my hand to her secret haunt
filled with thick smoke of ****
where she will remove the drapes
to let me see the truth.
On her quill and cactus bed,
she would make me understand,
how far is pleasure from pain
why darkness stalks light,
a jilted lover, walking a few steps behind,
I've heard her, once whisper
to wind in her husky voice
"A life written off by those
who measure out life with coffee spoons,
as spent in vein; this life of mine,
could have its secret treasures,
no charlatan could ever guess about
a serpent's diamonds
very few get to see,
its dangerous to pry, i forgive their ignorance"
Words induced by her dark power
has layers of meaning
but to many it was just meaningless jabbering,
just magic mushroom blabber
She nibbled and nicked my earlobes,
in between intoxicating purrs,
told me the meaning of caterwauls,
**"Its not pain, its not pain,
once you get in to the stream
you only want to drain,
in to the vast blue ocean"**
I recognize now, it's Walpurgis night,
as i walk in search of my witch,
i see dancers around bonfire,
revelers totally out of their minds,
carouse at the heart of the night.
And i see them all, witches in marine blue dresses,
enchantresses in blackly black,
coquettish red or groovy green,
I wait for her to appear,
the only one in resplendent white.
May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 9:49 AM UTC
Demented bandit
Redundant pundit
Fun time gambit
Screaming "Bomb it!"
Vicious *****
Cannot stand it
Mend it, bend it
Maybe tow it
How it goes
It goes all wrong
It wrongs no more
More than it should
But more it could
I guess it would
But that would hurt
Oh what a ****
The world is burnt
And I feel like a picture blurt
You've censored too much
Ventured too far
Gotten all such
Answers fewer
Violent fever
Violet furor
Volatile gore
Gory tumour
Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 11:37 AM UTC
treacherously torrid and torrential torrents of totally tangential tumultuous tortuous ; tyrannically torturous adjunct viably salient seethe.
procrastinating pandemic plenipotentiary prosthesis ; prosaically pragmatic parenthetical predication predilection premise prognostication
panoramic tableau preternatural propensity proclivity prestidigitation gesticulation :
gyration guidon ; ghastly gruesome grotesque hideously horrible horrendous heinous
grotty gnarly
diabolically maniacal dementia brusque macabre abrupt
awful
amalgamated anathema analysis agnate aggregate aberrance
somatalogy virtuoso cognate obduracy
worse
rudiment ebullience , confluence effluent effusion affluent , prolific profusity opulence , cogent fecund secular secund , recondite redolence abstrusely obstreperous mesomerism resonance resilience
protractive perpetude futurity
blither blandishing blabber burnishing boresome blahs
lithe blithe jabber prattle chatter tithe
morose morsel moribundness
stolid stoic
stalwart bastion bulwark
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 5:45 PM UTC
This is a Bleeping Bopping Boo.
Bleeping Bopping Boo lives on the biggest bandana in Boston.
Bleeping Bopping Boo eats big black butterflies, blankets, blue bananas and bears.
Bleeping Bopping Boo likes beating up babies, belly dancing, bouncing on buffalo's back and abducting bananas.
Bleeping Bopping Boo breaks into buffalo bodies, blame babies for bad stuff, and blabber all day.
Bleeping Bopping Boo banged my back against a box. Oy the Bleeping Bopping Boo./Users/mlackritz/Desktop/Screen shot 2012-05-22 at 3.22.47 PM.png
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 3:14 PM UTC
Your enigmatic nails
beget sweet pain and sanguineous pleasures,
make me wriggle, blabber;
an exquisite healing method with groovy madness.
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 12:49 AM UTC
He looks at me with question in his eyes,
His mouth moving but not saying anything,
His ears cocked towards me like a dog,
Listening attentively.
By holding my hand he encourages me,
His smile making a request.
“I’m here for you, to help you out,
so say what comes to your head.”
I begin with my monologue,
and tell him the tales of my heart.
What has me down and worried,
I share with him un-flinchingly.
He holds my hand when it gets difficult,
as if compassion flows through his veins.
His mind is void of any judgement.
Throughout the narration,
all his senses motivate me.
“Come out with it!” they say together.
To my heart it’s a life boat you see!?
Because in this age of all the blabber.
It’s hard to find a good listener.
A listener who wants to know you better,
And help you out genuinely.
As I finish my tale he hugs me tight,
Letting me know he understands.
And in the future if there comes a bumper,
then I can always hold his hand.
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 2:31 PM UTC
Day by day I turned the page,
day by day I read your words;
Gradually, heavily, leisurely-not,
I leave my body, unconsciously.
Covered with long white sleeves,
muttering and uttering,
"Change does not exist,
one simply takes one step closer to their true self."
Natheless, drifting was I,
and you say true self;
Withal, nameless was mine,
yet you blabber true self.
Unknown and unseen,
haunting me dawn and dusk;
So there it lies,
my stranger,
my true self.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
"You fight like a girl"
Men seem all confident, strong and macho and what not
but the moment this phrase strikes their ears,
they all get offended, turn into cry babies & start defending their so called manhood
I have seen this with my own eyes,
and I seriously cant remember how many times
Its funny how society has turned women into synonym for weakness
when the same women's strength to push them out of their bodies is their gateway to life
& its funnier how they think they are superior just because of that little thing between their legs
And its the same men who cant find their own socks without their wife
Its funny how men who worship their mothers
often forget to respect the girls who walk down the alley
And Its funnier how its the woman who leaves her family
but has to live like she owes her life to the man she marries
Its funny how a to-be-mother carries her baby for 9 months
building a life out of matter
but the moment it comes out of the womb, its given the name of just the father
Its more funny how we talk about getting rid of gender roles
yet look at a woman with disgrace when you find out she doesn't cook.
And the funniest of all is
how we blabber about these civilisation & equality tricks
and blame women for dressing too ******
but forget to tell the men to calm their *****
And yet a woman stands there strong
Fighting through all these odds
as if being born a female was her biggest mistake of all
And still. Still, the most insulting phrase men find to throw at each others
is," Dude You fight like a girl!"
And this is my only message, to all those macho men who use that golden phrase
Maybe thinking, it makes them sound manlier somehow
"If he really fought like a girl, trust me bruh, You d be dead by now."
---------------------------------------------------------
"Fight like a girl, Yes I do, And if you dare be that strong, you would too" ~ Kakareikan
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 7:38 AM UTC
This time I will make sure to look into your eyes when you are talking to me ....
But next time I will make sure to talk to you when I am looking into your eyes.....
This time I will make sure to laugh at your silly jokes....
But next time I will make sure to make silly jokes on your laughter.....
This time I will make sure to listen all your blabber...
But next time I will make sure to blabber to listen me....
This time I will make sure to agree with everyone.....
But next time I will make sure that everyone will agree with me....
This time I will make sure to be shelled by your breaks.......
But next time I will make sure to break all those shells.....
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 7:52 AM UTC
I find innocuous corners in the unfathomable depths of humanity.
Then I weave a silken web of lies against the tapestries of fate.
The longer the web takes, the more fabulous its construction, peppered both with illusions and realities.
For the greatest illusion is the one most rooted in truth.
I have no need to chase; my patience is as consummate a force as any;
I wait for my prey to come to me on their own,
And then I ensnare them, injecting them with venom,
Rendering them unable to escape.
The web is an extension to my soul. To my spirit.
It is me, and my weapon.
Its substance is known to me.
My webs are lies mixed with truths, despair colored with hope.
They are a crawling infinity of colors,
An eternal tribute to orderly and savage chaos.
Each strand, which links me to my prey and my predators,
Each one resonates under the steps of the dancing mad god,
Vibrating and sending little echoes of bravery or cowardice,
Satiation or hunger,
Destruction or architecture,
Blabber or argument,
Each strand carries my reaction to everyone who is connected to me.
Every intention, interaction, motivation that I have been plagued with,
Every color, everybody, every action and reaction that I have endured,
Every piece of physical reality and the thoughts that it engendered,
Every connection made, every nuanced moment of history and potentiality,
Every possible thing that ever was, ever is and ever will be with regard to me,
Woven into that limitless, sprawling web.
It is without beginning or end.
It is complex to a degree that humbles the mind.
It is not a weapon.
It is a trap.
A trap, one to which I fall every single time.
Infinitely bitten, never shy.
I can renounce the world again.
I can turn away once more.
But it never lasts.
The web is too spread out.
There are other spiders on it,
Spiders, which have tethered me to this plane of reality,
With their own silken threads.
It is too late.
Too late to draw the strings close.
It is too late.
Too late to destroy my prison, too late to destroy my weapon.
Too late for everything.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 10:55 AM UTC
Getting Ready
On the go
Doing things
Need a blow
Giddy gaggle
Endless Gags
Toothy giggles
Tongues a wag
Dressing up
Getting down
Goofing off
Clownin round
Pretty girls
Wearing pearls
Dancing Swirls
Fluffy Furls
Blowing Kisses
Giving Hugs
Singing Ditties
Cut a Rug
Buoyant Banter
Flashing Smiles
Bubbly Blabber
Smoking Milds
Shakin *****
Gettin Down
Wigglin *******
Goofy Gowns
Keep a Groovin
Boogie all night
Shake Them Legs
Les Dames et Dynomite
Oakland
8/23/01
Music Selection:
Jackson 5
Dancing Machine
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 9:56 AM UTC
I saw you standing there
As you were staring straight at me
You mustn’t have heard me calling
Because you carried on walking
As if you hadn’t heard a thing
Like an island on the verge of crumbling
Into the deep blue sea
I am desperately trying to find someone to save me
From my dull reality
Like an island on the verge of crumbling
Into the deep blue sea
I Don’t want to come across as ***** or rude
But I’m not here to hold your hand and
Whisper sweet nothings in your ear
The ****** fantasies flickered through my mind!
As you stood there unaware
Of the fire’s you were kindling up
Girl won’t you let me fan your flames!
Ohh fan your flames! Cmon!
Opportunity came a knockin for a few swift moments
Only for father time to whisk that chance away
Ohh Where have you gone?
I’ve been searching for so long
So SO long
Like an island on the verge of crumbling
Into the deep sea
I am desperately trying to find someone to save me
From my dull reality
Don’t want to come across as ***** or rude
But I don’t just want to hold your hand
I saw you walking over there
I’m no geographer but I know my basic geography
The world ain’t flat
So by walking down there
You should be coming back
My way sometime soon
I meant to tell you all my thoughts and feelings
But I swallowed them up in the boldness
That is my pride
Hands so clammy
I choked on my words
Forming incoherent blabber
I want to be more then friends
Please disregard what those scousers told you
I don’t want to come across as ***** or rude
But I don’t just want to hold your hand
Let me take hold of this opportunity
I don’t want to spurn this chance to say
My hormones are about to implode
And I must confess
I don’t just want hold your hand tonight
Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 10:01 AM UTC
Most poets construct fences
Of ambiguous and lofty blabber
To stagger, ambitious eyes
Clamoring for another
Hit line, that drags the body
to the grave and greets
Your mother with
A bird, contrary
To the--traditional wave
And jejune grief
Instead, I'll facet windows
With various cob-web cracks
And baseball mishaps
Till I collapse
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
Your impassioned ****** blabber, a primordial prompt,
the seed, swelled,seethed feverishly for a while, sprouted
then surged in to a sea of love with all the intensity mustered
we drowned in that flood; there was only the sea of bliss.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 8:00 AM UTC
There is a love no phrase defines
Eight letters mean nothing
but what you take from them.
And some take none.
So I'll take a few more letters
cos' eight seems not enough,
to tell of a love that rests
high above the lust
of a high school romance.
This is a love where you dance
through the night
with your shirts off
to music that doesn't even play.
You sneak abouts here and there
and hit bowls against the grass
and glance on lakes at night
the ultimate paradox shining
in mankind. Belligerent fights
with brooms ensue to be ended
by boxes of cardboard pizza
or red pepper pita and hummus.
Your parents say, "those guys again..."
And you say, "Hey! you're talkin' bout' my friends here."
So you go.
You take rides endless it seems.
Take trips to places before unseen.
Talks of blabber and sensibility.
Snuggle seshes end in wrestling matches.
If you wake up and your jaw hurts,
you and Maxy probably got drunk again.
If your clothes smell a bit,
chance that Andy dropped by.
If your mind's been blown
Mack and Will laid with you
by the pond for hours.
If you feel a love stronger
in your soul, Dbake's nearby.
If you laugh your *** off for days,
Dusty probably told a joke
or pulled his pants down.
If you can't wrap you mind
around some fact or story,
Bankman must have sprouted
out some MIT engineering bull
you wish you could understand.
But who gives a hey when
you're out chilling with the bros,
brews or not, smokes or tokes or nokes,
there is always a brotha out to chill.
And to you, I say
NAMASTE
Sep 13, 2010
Sep 13, 2010 at 11:52 PM UTC
Shepherds, cobblers, carpenters and joiners of all creeds and worldly dreamers
You troubled souls, the brittle spirits drinking spirits cleaner
Taunted workers of yore, farmers gone and industries endowed
Disseminating futures, who's gonna build your ***** barrels now?
**** it, I'm going to work in a call center
Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 6:15 AM UTC
it's always dark blue around you,
but i like it,
especially when you're curled up
in the corner, trying to be awake
as i blabber incessantly.
it's pitch black, i figured,
when you pull up that drawbridge
just when i have gotten past the moat,
i don't like it when it's
pitch black, like your scary beautiful
scuba dive.
because i can't swim.
Feb 24, 2011
Feb 24, 2011 at 11:52 PM UTC
Edit -> Copy your unwavering presence, despite my fears
Insert -> Link our friendship across distance and years
Format -> Align our innermost belief
Insert -> Break to strengthen our friendship in grief
Edit -> Cut your shallow, self-centered blabber
Format -> Bold our impulsive, self-inflicted laughter
Edit -> Undo all the those hurtful things I said
Insert -> Image of endless fun-filled days ahead
Jul 10, 2012
Jul 10, 2012 at 1:22 AM UTC
some barber once told me
i was too fat for my own good
and little me was heartbroken
his harsh words weren't understood
because i was okay when i looked in the mirror
and mom and dad loved me so
but when the barber blabbed on and on
i knew the chubby arms and legs had to go
and so i felt bad for years
until one day i suddenly thought:
i don't even go to that barber's barber shop!
i don't need to worry about the things i'm not!
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
I remember breaking down that barrier.
A Berlin wall, of sorts,
That haunts every friendship.
On one side,
There are pleasantries.
There is “How are you?”
Who shares an apartment with “It’s been too long dear”,
Who lives across the street from “I have so much homework!”
And down the hall from “We ought to see a movie this weekend”.
On the other side, there are feelings.
Not the simple kind.
Not the kind that can be expressed at a locker,
Before homeroom,
Or over a cup of coffee.
The kind that are ugly.
The ones with rough edges,
That will ***** your hand,
If you hold them the wrong way.
The ones that sit alone in dark corners,
Because no one wants to claim ownership.
It’s a thrilling moment to break down.
Falling to the ground, you cry,
You wail,
And you blabber out every feeling you’ve ever felt,
No longer able to hold them inside.
I remember when I broke down for the first time.
Like a citizen of West Berlin,
I took a sledge hammer to the wall.
With each word, chunks of concrete disintegrated,
Into crumpled tissues,
And tear-stained pillow cases.
The last word hung in the air.
Inhaling deeply,
Freedom filled my lungs.
I held my breath.
I saw shining lights,
Glimmering stars,
And vibrant smiles.
I knew that behind me,
You saw rusted steel,
Broken glass,
And graffiti.
It wasn’t too late,
I could run away.
Run away and never look back.
And re-build that wall with every stride.
If you didn’t want to cross that threshold,
Between shining stars and broken walls,
Between singing joyously and sitting silently,
Between happiness and heart-ache.
I would not force you.
“Dearie.” You said, arms outstretched.
“Come here.”
Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 12:05 PM UTC
I'm barely at home
There's my wooden furniture
These my plates of chrome
A fridge full of nourishment
My marble dome
But I'm barely at home
I've barely a hearth
This a room of my choosing
That there my land on earth
My book shelf for musing
Amenities for mirth
But barely a hearth
Sep 22, 2019
Sep 22, 2019 at 11:49 AM UTC