"bleeped" poems
Warning: Bleeped out profanity. Read at your own risk
I would call you "dad"
But I would be ashamed to do so
You cannot stand up for anyone
Fooled into submission by her
That f·cking Satanic b·tch
Who is more irresponsible than I
I am ashamed you ever bed with her
I watch your offspring, wishing to be dead
Now I love your children
They even call me "Mama"
Isn't that alarming?
When they confuse their birthgiver with their sister?
But what would I know
I'm just a young girl
I don't know anything, says you
You overprotect me anyhow
As soon as I can leave, I'll be gone without a trace
Living with my mother, the woman that you hate
That you talk sh·t about, while I am within hearing range
Then act like nothing happened, do you think I am a bafoon?
At least I have the ****** courage
To tell someone to f·ck off
I'm glad I'm nothing like you
So, just f·ck off
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 4:10 AM UTC
Off to dinner tonight,
This is starting off like a journal entry
I often wonder if I'm meant for someone else
Here
In this world
Or is it bigger than that?
Dinner tonight
Not romantic
Far from it
Discernment
Priesthood
And please don't mention *** scandal
Solo until the day I die
That's what I'm looking at
But my scope is so...
Narrow
So...
Earthly
Instead of a father of offspring
A father of peoples
A father of the church
A person who can set people towards a righteous path
But let's be honest,
I'm far from righteous.
I talk a good talk
But my walk is a sad limp
I pray before I eat,
But "forget" in the hustle
and bustle of work and life
If Christ is supposed to be my center
I'm way off target
Another god seems to follow me
Another trip to Target
I'm consistently surrounded by choice
In the day to day
But instead of choosing right
I go with **** what the haters say"
I could have bleeped that out, you know
Nullified it,
But I'd rather be raw
And let you see that side of it
This is serious business,
and no less a journal entry
I tried to change it into poetry
but I'm way off target
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 3:54 PM UTC
What does this letter stand for ----"M"?
Now read along, ahem, "M",
"M" stands for mummies,
Magnets for mess, and dummies,
"M" is for maestro,
Opera tonight? Bleeped if I know,
"M" is for misogynist,
Broomsticks up exes' male blips!
To women, they are not God's gift,
Yes, "M" is for misogynist!
Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 9:32 PM UTC
Waking up
I want to sleep!
I want to drown this out
I want it bleeped!
No more reality
I want it altered
To live that way
I don't want to stay...in...this...reality
Drunk or ******
Only high or low
Never on the level
I just want to hold hands with the devil
This doesn't make sense
Why are you reading this?!?!
On this path I tread
Like a missile headed one direction
Moving violently forward
I'll only cause destruction
So don't try and save me
I'm gone, I'm lost
As you would a skipping stone
Just hold me for a moment, and then toss
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 2:05 AM UTC
My name is St. Jimmy
with a heart like a hand grenade
But the tracks were bleeped
An idiot was I made
I eat 20 packs a day
But haven't smoked a single one
I am a romance machine in my head
But I've never actually had fun
I am a model by day
A rebel by night
Nobody actually knows it
But crack up I just might
Schizophrenic
Hallucinogenic
Insomniac
Suicidic
Tragic
Hypocritic.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
A-Z
A, B, C for comedy, I think I said it once to Mr. Jack Dee,
But 'e forgot, gee it's getting hot; you see the pressures on me.
But I, J.K. Rowling am not,
'Ell bent on becoming the next Eminem, I'm not;
Oh no! M and N, I forgot.
Oh I'll ask Bob, Bob can I have a ***
Q, you **** said Bob Holness to me.
They should have bleeped it out; yes more tea please,
Said I to you, the V.W. driving tease.
She soon became my ex, don't ask me why.
I've got to go now, so say goodbye.
I've got to catch some Z’s.
(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 11:42 AM UTC
Here's an allegorical ode,
Men are ***** whales, Oh?
To titillate them, you know,
Then, thar he blows!
*** or love, bleeped if I know!
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 4:06 PM UTC
Last summer, the first of sunshine days
I walked the dusky dawn, down memory lane
searching for those strawberry nights of lust
and longing that lay captured in a jar
of firefly nights, chill wine and meaningless dreams
that wrote itself in our own language of caresses
and touching the stars, we stumbled into night
unaware that this-was, after all, an affair.Tomorrow
we must return to sanity, and take with us
our suitcase kisses, pretend nothing happened.
How quaint to feign when saturated in ecstasy
keeping it under wraps, quiet and carefully.
Yes, of course, I was tempted to teach the cellphone
new tricks of deceit in numbers, names and meanings
my tickets torn between a memory of wild nights
and wanton words, silk and satin sensations
Oh yeah, I reached home and its familiar welcomes
'The deals done,' I said to the unsuspecting wife
and kept a straight face, like any office memo,
and put my shirts and new ties into place
along with that knowing smile that lurks
in all marital mayhem. It was only when
the phone bleeped, my pulse raced, number familiar
'He knows', it read, and Judas welled up in my chest.
Summer came to a close, the sunshine left early
and winter set in quickly, as the leaves turned
dark rust with tinges of fading gold and blood.
Every snake must shed its skin now.
Author Notes
This is fiction. I'm just trying a new technique I learned this morning.
I've shed my skin too.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 days ago
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC