"blabbered" poems
one undead sed to one too undead: "id **** for a romancer whos a necromancer."
Well, abracadabra with just an ounce of my magic
i produce half a cadavre and then the other half grab it and shake it until it blabbers:
"well im awake but id rather be underground with dead matter."
and though ive never been sadder i had to grab her and stab her a thousand times in such patterns
that all was left were mere tatters, talk about beaten and battered as all the pieces were scattered
(i made em smaller and flatter til they looked good so i blabbered):
"you look amazing"- "im flattered"
she sed but that didnt matter. im just a ****** whos madder than Hell oh well whats it matter
the feelings of a mad hatter madder than other mad hatters collaboratively dont matter
in fact the maddest just happens to have had all his dreams shattered.
evacuate bowels and bladder. souls eaten, demons get fatter, eternal state of dead palar,
dying in Hell, almost had her. god ****
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 3:59 AM UTC
I was exhausted of sitting in the car,
In traffic jams at noon.
Travelling a distance too far
In an attempt to reach soon.
Glad I was home when I expected,
I started telling my Mum about the day.
I continuously blabbered,
Not giving her any chance to say.
As I was done speaking,
She asked if I could come with her,
"Sorry, I can't", I said after thinking,
Shopping isn't something that makes me feel better.
"It's the grocery to be bought", she said,
Hoping that I might budge ,
I denied again,
And so she struck a bargain:
"I was thinking we could have sweet buttermilk."
I heard without lifting my head,
and with a child-like grin, I began to trudge.
I can control my desires well,
But I am a foodie with a sweet tooth.
I'd be in heaven, I can surely tell,
If I have book, couch and food.
"Choose a shop before we are way past it,
It was fun today", she said, smiling.
Isn't this what we live for?
It is the time we spend, and not the lure.
I was unknowingly overcome with guilt,
And we reached home, while I was still thinking.
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 1:10 AM UTC
I was drowning.
I dont swim.
But I jumped into the sea.
As I trusted some fraud.
And I was drowning.
I found hands around me.
Trying to push me up.
But even in the middle of ocean,
Those hands were all over me.
Disgusting.
I looked around one last time.
Pleading with my eyes for life.
Not far away I saw him.
The safest looking boy on earth.
Swimming to himself.
I thought I knew him.
A friend of a friend.
I grabbed him and clung to him.
Clung for my not so dear life.
I was afraid to die.
He must have been perplexed.
I just hung to him and blabbered.
I wanted him to save me.
Take me to shore, to family.
I just cried in his ears.
He just started swimming.
Swimming with all his might.
Really mighty he was.
To grab a fighting me and swim.
Without ever letting go.
I gasped,cried and struggled.
I complained,wailed and raged.
I was hysterical and shocked.
He just continued to swim.
Never giving in to my tantrums.
Many a times I pulled him down.
Kicked him as I was trying to breath.
I pulled his hair and scratched his body.
I pushed his head down and gasped.
He just kept on saying "Not far now"
He did take me to shore.
He gave me his breath.
He made me throw up the sea water.
He made sure am dry and warm.
He smiled at me and I felt safe.
Then only I noticed he is so grown up.
Not so much of a kid as I thought.
He extended his hand and told his name.
I sat there bewildered as I was wrong.
He was not my friend's friend.
He looked at me mused and smiled.
May be he thought I didnt follow.
He turned and walked away slowly.
I sat there watching and grieving.
Then I sprang up and followed.
As he is the safest friend on earth.
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 4:03 AM UTC
Mister Mumble Plight in vain ironed his tie dry-cleaned his hankie several hundred times spent his life eating his three hundred dollar caviar from his three hundred dollar caviar jar
As he goes out on a world that expects nothing of him than expectations from him for as loong as he remembers opens his anti-UV umbrella on a fake sunny morning Mister Mumble Plight
Mister Mumble Plight on his quest to do everything right
All deeds done correct I just wish it follows the rest
Mister Mumble Plight
Mister Mumble Plight don't fail us now cuz the earth stood still as it gave us your frown please cover your stab wounds Mister Mumble Plight
Mister Mumble Plight homebound again his bag bound full of paper and knitted tie on a fake programed day lurks fake programed rain
On his bag hung the Awkward Arachnid with limbs shihivering cold evidently bearing a burden twelve years old
"But Miss Awkward my hands won't be of any help" Plight plead "but a trade-in is not what I acquire but it is to lead these feet into paradise, Mister Mumble Plight"
As the spider walk towards the end of the tunnel Mumble's steps involuntarily forward and as the blur clears out flowery patterns of bluets and daisies Mumble blabbered as his eyes never thought it sees to see the day.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC
so my parents blabbered about how the enormous love they shared resulted me to existence.
Their faces were covered with brilliant smiles and i saw love radiant in them.
Though i couldn't pinpoint their pastel lies made in paradise.
Those shades of blue hovered through the sky
and drops of hatred made me cry.
Its thunder made my ears bleed,
its lightning made my eyes sore.
I am no child of love.
I am the child of hatred my mother bore.
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 9:28 AM UTC
I yearned for years - long
For a humble man, I could call mine.
For that warmth across the table, as I sat down to dine.
For that naughty stare at me, as I'd undress shy.
For that amusing smile, as I blabbered when high!
For a chin with rough stubble, that would caress my lips.
For ever lending ears - to take in my never ending cribs.
For a name around my finger, etched in gold.
For that grip around me, as I'd turn old.
I'd waited long enough, I could abide no more!
And that's when you walked by, as if you heard me cry!
And offered me a hankie, to wipe my tears dry.
Your tired eyes claimed, that you had come a long way.
I offered to leave, but you said you were here to stay!
You said you were no novice, and you did look worldly-wise
Though your boyish charms, did raise in me - alarms!
I sat there beside you, sharing stories of a life - wooed.
A tale of a short girl, yet it took a mighty long while!
You have been listening for long, yet you probe me to go on.
And I still babble away and I still babble away...
Nov 18, 2011
Nov 18, 2011 at 10:13 AM UTC
Look at me now
My once curly hair stick-straight,
My once fresh eyes Kohl-laced
Wonder at my dexterity
My pinkish tender fingers have gotten disfigured
To longish, darker, and wiser ones; you’d hear my
High, shrill laughter, that doesn’t conform
To the graceful springy adornments that it had before
gaze at my iconoclastic room
That smells of adolescent hormones
Swelling with teenage rebellion and
Punk shades of red and black,
A radical departure from my late pink paints
And Barbie shades;
Feel my feelings now
That impalpable blood red ocean
Thoughts no longer wander around Santa or snow white or
Maidens fair, instead
Just hang around vainly, hovering in midair.
But don’t you gape; it’s still that naïve little
Girl you knew, with wide eyes and a mouth adorned with
Chocolate stains who blabbered incessantly
About all things only half-understood; only that now,
All the chocolate has been licked clean
And behind it every truth that hid harshly revealed.
If you can deal with the radical, then believe , it’s still
Me.
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 7:57 PM UTC
Just a glance of you was enough
Rapid serotonin surge giving me great triumph.
Did my heart just skipped a beat
Giving me a premature contractile treat.
Adrenaline galloped into my blood
Spawning multiple contractions that made me look ahead.
The feeling was so deep, that my cerebrum failed to process
lashings of sensory, motor and cognitive chores.
Have waited quite long to say “ I love you”,
But I never knew that my wernicke’s area isn’t giving a cue.
Don’t know how to deal with this,
A shot of ****** may sometimes give me a sigh of bliss
Duplexing happily into morphine, embracing the opioid receptors
It makes a vow to present me a warm flush of euphoria.
Oh my, was I turning blue?
A tint of cyanosis giving him a clue.
Dumbstruck seeing him walking towards me,
I just blabbered ‘are you nuts?’
Reminded by the anaphylactic shock bestowed by peanuts during my infancy.
I have to deal simultaneously with hypoxemia and hypercapnia,
My respiratory muscles giving me a sudden shut down.
And I was choking so hard,
Waking me suddenly from the beautiful dream I had.
Dreams are just the perfect elixir of life,
But in reality, just like opening the Pandora’s box.
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC
The skin matted on ebony surfaces
with exotic sleek and silk
slowed with gestures of pleasure
as it's summoned with prejudice
as if a sermon for the caviler
her taste of melanin
uncovers the beauty beneath
as the rise of her sound is silenced
she fights and redeems her ivory
her womb of linoleum complex
as if a puzzle delicate and challenging
yet in her eyes has seen it all
and her ears blabbered with insults
vile terms, expectations and consideration
unappreciated by its own seed
and then placed in a corner
ohh that palace of malice unconquered
exploited, discriminated and disused
watch her rise in the lens of her mind
as she bears the weight of the world
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 3:41 PM UTC
I didn’t speak of you
The way you spoke of me
Telling them
This and that
Those and all
I didn’t speak of you
At all
I didn’t speak of you
The way you
Spoke of me
Even sometimes
You saw me bragged
It wasn’t you
I blabbered about
The sea may part
Our heart and soul
I haven’t spoken of you
At all
For trust and loyalty
Is what I preached
I never speak of you
No.
Not even
A heartbeat
Oct 22, 2019
Oct 22, 2019 at 10:17 PM UTC