"brittany" poems
i share my name with a hurricane
how fitting
a set of bruised shins in running tights
who can't get much of anything right
and still hasn't remembered where she set her drink
that's me
i sometimes think they should've named me tiffany
or brittany
or stephany
something pretty and normal
maybe then i would have been a ballerina
instead of just a mess
in a second-hand dress
sometimes i swear
the wind calms when i laugh
and the thunder cracks
when i finally let go
and let myself fade
back into the sky that shaped me
i make it rain
some things never change
not names
or headstones
or birthdays
and some things always do
the sky shifts slightly
setting a yellow kite to sail
and a pair of hawks to soar
maybe they named the storm after me
so that i could see
how beautiful turbulence can be
maybe i just wasn't looking right
besides
a rose by any other name
wouldn't seem as special
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 1:09 AM UTC
Laughs and screams,
Smiles and tears
A newly found love,
And "the boy I was gonna marry heartbreak".
You yell at your parents,
Hit your little brother,
And for what?
Because your mad at some high school boy,
Who couldn't keep it in his pants?
You should be yelling at him...
But ohh no...
You could never do that.
"It was a mistake."
He says,
"I love you, and I promise I'll never,
Ever, ever, ever do it again."
And then tops it off with a dazzling smile,
And runs his fingers through your hair,
Kisses your cheek,
And says,
"I gotta run, love ya babe."
Yeah...
He's gotta run...
Run to your bestfriends house,
Because he's bangin' her tonight.
Liar.
Ooops...
He did it again.
It was an accident..
Again.
But you forgive him,
Because you love him,
And he "loves" you.
You throw your friend to the side and proclaim,
"Its all her fault!"
But then one night when yall are hanging out,
He goes to the bathroom,
And leaves his phone sitting on the bed.
BUUUZZZZ
New text message,
From some girl named Brittany?
"Who the hell is Brittany?"
Not thinking,
You open the text.
It says,
"We gotta talk, now."
"Why is this chick wanting to talk to MY man?",
You think to yourself.
"What's going on."
"It broke..."
"What broke?"
"The ****** you idiot."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm pregnant."
There it is.
He did it once again,
And ******* up big time.
Can you forgive him?
There's physical,
Living,
Evidence this time.
You do what any rational teenage girl would do...
You throw a tantrum,
Scream "I hate you.",
And run home to daddy.
You tell daddy...
Daddys mad.
He runs out of the house,
Gets in the truck,
And races down the road,
Without a word.
You go up to your room,
Because what else can you do?
You go to your desk,
And see your drawings,
A beautiful art,
Thats always been your outlet.
But hows it gonna work for you this time?
What are you gonna do?
Draw him on top of the name Brittany,
With his **** in the middle of the A?
You sling everything off your desk.
The pencil sharpener hits the wall,
And breaks,
Leaving the metal blades exposed.
You pick it up,
And begin to draw.
But this time,
There isnt any pencils,
And there isnt any paper,
Just metal and skin.
You hack away at your teenage soul,
Going through your "emo" phase,
Wanting to feel normal,
And trying to make a time machine,
With your blood as the key,
To get rid of all the hurt he had caused.
"How did you handle the pain of all that?"
People at school ask when the word gets around.
"Drawing is my outlet."
You say,
And then walk away,
Pulling down your sleeves,
So your broken teenage soul is encased in last years sweater.
A teenage soul.
At 13,
So alive,
So new.
By 18,
Its dead.
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 4:08 AM UTC
In your mother's apple-orchard,
Just a year ago, last spring:
Do you remember, Yvonne!
The dear trees lavishing
Rain of their starry blossoms
To make you a coronet?
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
As I remember yet?
In your mother's apple-orchard,
When the world was left behind:
You were shy, so shy, Yvonne!
But your eyes were calm and kind.
We spoke of the apple harvest,
When the cider press is set,
And such-like trifles, Yvonne,
That doubtless you forget.
In the still, soft Breton twilight,
We were silent; words were few,
Till your mother came out chiding,
For the grass was bright with dew:
But I know your heart was beating,
Like a fluttered, frightened dove.
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
That first faint flush of love?
In the fulness of midsummer,
When the apple-bloom was shed,
Oh, brave was your surrender,
Though shy the words you said.
I was glad, so glad, Yvonne!
To have led you home at last;
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
How swiftly the days passed?
In your mother's apple-orchard
It is grown too dark to stray,
There is none to chide you, Yvonne!
You are over far away.
There is dew on your grave grass, Yvonne!
But your feet it shall not wet:
No, you never remember, Yvonne!
And I shall soon forget.
2.7k
* Talking to one of my best friends, Brittany, helped create this.
I gave you my
love
&
you gave me your lust.
&
it broke me down.
You left me
stranded,
defeated
&
alone
on the side of the
love
lane.
To watch my dreams
fade away with your tail-lights.
in
a
Western sunset.
&
From then on,
it's been nothing but darkness.
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 6:49 PM UTC
Best Week Ever
Just had my best week of all time,
I'm 42 but still in my prime.
Spent some time with Brittany Spears,
I left her begging and in tears.
After a night with Beyonce,
she wanted me to be her fiance.
Just one night with Pink,
now she can't even blink.
Had a date with Katy Perry,
she asked me to pop her cherry.
Spent some time with J-Lo,
she was more sloppy than a joe.
Rihanna likes to play rough,
**** she looks good in the buff.
Me and Fergie ate some black eyed peas,
then we were joined by Alicia keys.
Had a blast with Taylor Swift,
we did it on a ski lift.
Avril Lavinge wanted it never to end,
now she wants to be her boyfriend.
I turned Miley Cyrus back into Hannah Montana,
its a secret what we did with a banana.
Me and Kesha sang her hit Tik Tok,
then she ****** on my clock.
Selena Gomez is a witch no more,
I turned her into my little *****
Carrie Underwood won't slash my tires,
the heat between us started some fires.
Gwen Stefani left the singer from Bush,
she loved the way I smacked her ****
Lady Ga Ga showed me her poker face,
with her I reached every base.
Me and Lita Ford kissed each other deadly,
then she sang me a **** medley.
Madonna said I was her best,
we spent no time dressed.
I was man enough for Sheryl Crow,
let me tell you, she can really blow.
As the week ended, I had Shakira moving her hips,
then I woke up and it was an **** with Gladys Night and her Pips.
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
Why do you wear maroon lipstick?
Why are there lip stains on that stem-less wine glass?
Why are you staring at the sunrise?
Why are you smiling?Why are you laughing?Why are you yelling?Why are you smoking?
Why are you running?Why do you let mascara smears on your cheeks?
Why would you argue?Why would you snap?
Why?
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 1:33 AM UTC
Thank you Shaun,
for the pictures and flowers.
Thank you Lily,
for the ray of sunlight.
Thank you Bry,
for psychopathic measure.
Thank you D,
for the feeling of good pleasure.
Thank you Tay,
for tea and bears.
Thank you Meg,
for Sherlock and apples.
Thank you Zee,
for robots and twins.
Thank you Carrie,
for fangirling and friendship.
Thank you Liam,
for support and superheroes.
Thank you Paul,
for understanding and ingenious.
Thank you Ceryen,
for fake names and shared tears.
Thank you Chiara,
for Italian cheese and fanfics.
Thank you Rod,
for fish and evil.
Thank you Lia,
for kitties and souls.
Thank you Stephen,
for gravestones and vegetables.
Thank you Christine,
for mercurial and poetical love.
Thank you Caitlin,
for product design and Poundland.
Thank you Jordan,
for weddings and Brenda.
Thank you Conaill,
for DT and Courbet.
Thank you Brendan,
for axes and aunts.
Thank you Tom,
for form time and Brittany.
Thank you George,
for philosophies and pigeons.
Thank you Morgan,
for video games and hearing.
Thank you Alice,
for Pokemon and tumblr.
Thank you Aliyah,
for hearing aids and help.
Thank you all,
for reading and listening.
Thank you, me,
for absolutely nothing.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 10:13 AM UTC
Falling in love with sarcasm wearing a onesie
From across the pond, I see your smile
Shining with a sparkling nose ring right above it
The sun hitting you just right
One day I’ll see you
You’ll see me
And we’ll grow old giggling about “poot” and “vee-tuh-min”
To everyone, you’re just another brit
To me, you’re royal family
Princess Brit
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 2:18 PM UTC
There is a whisper in the air that seems to yell only at me.
It come in gusts of wind gentle enough to tousle the most well kept hair.
I've know this pitch before.
Even in new places I find myself feeling old.
I haven't lived enough, and there isn't comfort or encouragement in knowing that.
I've held fast to road signs and tree stumps as friends,
kissed their coolness and their groves.
Both these structures can be moved by cars, probably the wind too.
I use to hold hands as if they held me up.
Not a single hand, but a few whose voices prompted closeness.
Most people want promptness.
No one has lived enough, why would you say no?
Sometimes my feet ache when sitting, or when I walk down flights of stairs.
I think I am afraid of falling.
This ache tingles, I both fear it and like it.
At one point hands reassured safety,
like their very structure prevented tumbles.
I've felt this wind before, you see.
Dear girl you were the wind.
From far away you've reached me here and at some point I will tumble over.
I know there aren't hands structured for safety, you know that too.
We just use to pretend we weren't the one knocking one another down.
I never got it until now.
You're hair was never well kept dear Brittany, never well kept at all.
The change in color was artificial, and your constant flux much the same.
I use to see you as an exotic bird with all those colors.
I use to believe in your flight patterns.
The wind does not favor the birds Brittany.
The wind does not favor you.
Jan 24, 2012
Jan 24, 2012 at 5:12 PM UTC
She said it's "Brittany, not Britney,"
as we walked over the Mathematical Bridge.
I asked her if that was a reference,
but there's more than just a difference in nomenclature.
She said, "My name is Brittany Etheridge
but there is also a Britney Etheridge,
and she's a walking disaster."
I said "Hey, I never knew..."
as I looked into the river.
"Did you know about this bridge?" she asked me,
and I answered, "It's just a way between shores."
But there's always more to what is there, there's history.
"It was here before computers, before the wars,
before Britney Etheridge."
I could see my reflection in the water below,
warping my face with the current, and
it left me with nothing but a desire to know the history of all things,
but mainly Brittany Etheridge.
She told me, "Isaac Newton built this bridge
without any screws or bolts. Now that's engineering."
And I agreed with a nod and a smile.
"Britney Etheridge wouldn't care though."
She kept talking after that, but all the while I thought
about the bridge, and how there're screws here now.
She told me, "Isaac Newton built this bridge
without any screws or bolts."
Mar 27, 2010
Mar 27, 2010 at 12:59 PM UTC
So delicate my hands, and long,
They might have been my pride.
And there were those to make them song
Who for their touch had died.
Too frail to cup a heart within,
Too soft to hold the free--
How long these lovely hands have been
A bitterness to me!
1.3k
When life's going well and our health is good,
We've got the drive and means to go far,
And we seem to have the world by the tail,
Do we appreciate how lucky we are?
My thoughts are on a particular person:
Brittany Maynard--a daughter, a wife--
Young, vivacious, compassionate, caring,
Full of dreams, at the prime of her life,
Until she found she had brain cancer--
Glioblastoma--an aggressive assault--
Which turned Brittany's life upside down
And brought her dreams to a sudden halt.
Given six more months to live,
She pondered her options and moved to a state
Where she could decide to die with dignity
Before it ended up being too late.
Terminally ill Oregon residents
Who are mentally competent can make use
Of the Death with Dignity Act of Oregon.
Established safeguards prevent its abuse.
Verbal, cognitive, and motor loss,
Possible morphine-resistant pain,
Major changes in personality,
Paralyzing seizures--hard to contain--
Were what Brittany had to look forward to.
Such an existence, so grim and so bleak,
Was not what she wanted her family to experience:
Her constant suffering, week after week.
In her last months, Brittany had traveled.
She'd shared her feelings; for example, she'd say
It's important to do what's important to us.
In other words, we should seize the day.
To her family in November 2014
Brittany said her final good-byes
And peacefully went on the final journey--
The one that transcends both the earth and the skies.
I wouldn't wait around for a miracle
If I had to deal with what Brittany went through:
Inoperable brain cancer!
I'd hightail it to Oregon, too.
- by Bob B
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 7:51 AM UTC
Friendship.
Something that should be valued highly.
Jessica.
Sometimes we take our oldest and closest friends for granted.
Sydney.
We forget just how much we love them.
Rachel.
When we meet new friends,
Holly.
We become scared.
Sierrah.
We...
Dylan.
I...
Kaitlin.
Do ridiculous things to impress them.
Emily.
Sometimes, my mind just slips away.
Hannah.
Why can't I always be my true self?
Hollie.
I suppose that's a hard thing to do...
Brooke.
I'm very fortunate for you.
Beth Ann.
I drag on you at times.
Megan.
But my life would be so different without you...
Olivia.
I don't know how,
Molly.
But it would be.
Tiana.
Thank you.
Abbey.
You keep me in line.
Kateri.
My life is like a puzzle.
Madeline.
(Well, I think ALL of our lives are like puzzles.)
Taylor.
I have many pieces and sections to me.
Shaely.
When one piece is lost,
Sam.
Then the puzzle is not finished.
Drew.
You actually do complete me.
Zac.
This poem is long.
Kevin.
But bear with me, please.
Will.
I can't come up with the perfect words to describe our relationship.
Liz.
This poem may seem redundant,
Suzy.
And that's because it is.
Brittany.
I am a lost person in the wild.
Sister.
And you, my friends,
Mom.
Are the trees,
Dad.
The wind,
Grandma Bruns.
The grass,
Grandma Johnston.
And the things that guide me along the shattered glass road.
Grandpa Bruns.
The things that keep me safe.
Grandpa Johnston.
For that I must thank you.
Friends.
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 11:12 AM UTC
Not long after your sister was born, Angie I learned that I was gonna have you. The only thing better than one little baby, was the fact that I'd soon have two. I love you so much, you are both so sweet, with your pretty blue eyes, and your small hands and feet. Brittany with blond hair, and Angie with Brown, mommy finds it so hard to put either of you down. But sometimes I have to, I have only two hands, and life always hands you a lot of demands. I wish I could hold you, we'd cuddle all day, we'd laugh, and we'd talk, and be happy and play. But mommy wants you to be sure and know, I love you both so much. When I hold you in my arms, it's my heart that you actually touch....
May 5, 2010
May 5, 2010 at 11:21 AM UTC
Alas! The fleeting years glide on.
Eheu fugaces labuntar anni
So it goes, an old poet
rose, to tell the story of
the beast and the decaying glass rose,
petals falling softly cracking into broken
glass.
When you look at someone through rose tinted glasses, all the the red flags just look like flags.
raise a generation on Eminem and Cobain
then
scratch your head wondering where all us grown boys
went a little insane
from Timberlake to Bieber
Brittany to Miley
what's really changed?
anything
but our age?
a president named Bush went to war on terror
in the the middle-east,
ten years later his son does the same thing.
again I ask,
what's even changed
but
our age?
The ****** scandals begun by our ******* president
continue today under an eponymous tabloid cover
called Kardashian.
exploitation the name of the game,
everything is done for us,
especially our thinking.
less scarily,
our cooking.
there has never not been an "us vs. them"
mentality in human history.
we are cultured cannibals, tribesmen who have outgrown
our britches.
****** and racial liberation continues against
****** and racial tension
*** is cheap
drugs are cheaper
morals are depleted
agnosticism the happy sedated norm
nobody expects a revival but the saved themselves, the born
again.
well do I even wish to be born again into a life as this?
If I have learned anything thus far from life's teachings:
One is nothing and everything
Nowhere and everywhere
spirits abound where you least expect them
There is no zero and no infinity
Watch a fire burn and you will know this truth
Alas! The fleeting years glide on.
Eheu fugaces labuntar anni
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 2:37 PM UTC
. During the summer, cats, two mothers and two mothers were very large. Hungry animals. Take care of the bat. Fishing is the main shoe. He died in Africa. And then he burned it into it. I have a golden ribbon in his hand. After play, plants, animals, wolves. I'm going to a temple. I have not followed your orders for many years, I could not find it on the cattle farm and killed my friends with a greasy calf. Great vegetation. From that day until night and evil. Is he the soldier? Flowers often clean the products scattered. Joseph Joseph Martin, 1790 Eastern Greece desert. All Martin Nantes is a high-quality black group, city brothers during the day, musicians, music awards, buying acid. "But in my anger, I washed the river from the pit Blood and sugar in the blood Blacks Tahitians Do not trade with money please Brittany Milk Italian smile Smile Another smile is born American girl ****** purpose Dejang, for example, Russia and the ideas of children I have to do what I need to meet my lover. "Christian Danger: Public Secrets Mysterious secret windows, windows, windows and windows and translations and tattoos, goats, scallops, squirrels. The new square is an awesome helper. Friends of young children and Japanese night performances are full of books, aircraft, gypsies and gypsies. We're full of sweet liquor, toys, regular reefs, rifles. "Leaves are my first job, what is the reason for the clothes? . During the summer, cats, two mothers and two mothers were very big. Hungry animals. Take care of the bat. Fishing is the main shoes. He died in Africa. And then he burned it into it. I have a golden girdle in his hand. After the game, plants, animals, wolves. I enter a temple. I have not followed your orders for many years, I could not find it on the cattle ranch, and I killed a fat calf with my friends. Major vegetation. From that day until night and bad. Is this a soldier? Flowers often clean products scattered. Joseph Joseph Martin, 1790 Eastern Greece desert. All Martin Nantes are high quality black team, daytime city brothers, musicians, music awards, purchased acid. "But in my anger, I washed away the river from the pit. Blood and blood sugar Black Tahitians Do not trade with money please Brittany Milk Italian Smile Smile Another smile is born American girl ****** purpose Dejang, for example, Russia and children's park ideas, I have to do what I need to meet my lover "Christian danger: secrets of public opinion Mysterious secret windows, windows, windows and windows and lintels and tattoos, goats, scallops, squirrels. The new square is a terrible help item. Young kids' friends and Japanese night shows are full of books, aircraft, gypsies and gypsies. We are filled with glory liquid, toys, regular reefs, rifles." Leaves are my first job, what is the reason for clothes?
. In the summer months, cats, two mothers and two mothers were great. Take care of the lost विच, witch in Africa. And then he burned it. There is a golden movie in the hands of O. After the game, no plants, animals, wolves go onto church that do not follow their orders for many years with no one taking over a beef farm and killing their fat friends with a pistol. Great vegetation from that day to evening and evil. Is he a soldier? Flowers are often deserted in Greece; Martin Nantes is a high quality black group before scattering products cleaned up by Joseph Martin, 1790; Brothers City, City Buy, Nusicians, Music Awards, Acid "But with my rage, I do not do business with black blood and blood sugar washing with Black African मनी," Britney Smiles, Christian At Risk»: Public Secrets' Your Ideas include hidden windows and window translations and tattoos, kids, cocktails hidden in shadows, new class of helper and a large gypsy. Sweet drinks, sports, regular Shelves, Bulldog "Gender is my first job, what is the reason for clothes?"
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 1:00 AM UTC
*Its been twenty years gone by,
These years drug on and on....
Since the day we said goodbye,
Those years now past and gone....
Most days it seemed would never end,
While waiting for the day....
I wondered if my heart could mend,
And now it seems, it may....
The day the postman brought the news,
You were in search of me....
The day that every dream came true,
My lost hopes I could see....
I've read your letters many times,
Since the day that they arrived....
It seems our desires do combine,
From your words, this i derived....
And so I wrote you oh so much,
Of what these years have done....
It was almost a book, of such,
It seems I jumped the gun....
When a heart waits twenty years, you see,
To reconnect with love....
Of Brittany Jo and Angelica Leigh,
Two angels sent from up above....
And so I've thinned my letter out,
A bit less at one time....
Of what my life's been all about,
Since back in 1989....
So I'll stick to what is happening now,
For this first letter, to you two....
It comes down to when and how,
But I'll tell it all to you....
I have no secrets here to hide,
I want you to read it all.....
Please know, in you, I will confide,
How fast, must be your call....
So you can ask me anything,
And time may start to fly....
A whole new world, your letters bring,
To twenty years gone by.... *
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 4:56 PM UTC
I knew a girl; but not just any girl.
Her story was more intriguing than any fairytale,
Her worth far above rubies and pearls,
Her strength far more powerful than 100 soldiers,
Her beauty far more radiant than a dozen fresh roses,
Her love far greater than the tenderness of a caring friend,
Her dreams far more valuable than all the gold in the world,
but her emotions she kept hidden.
Afraid to let her guard down, for she was a rock to those around her.
To many she was a mystery, a spectacular puzzle of a person.
I still hear her laugh.
Rest in Paradise, sweet sister.
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 12:52 AM UTC
Let my past be published now,
I care for it no longer;
Look between my righteous things
To see I was the wronger.
Gather all the worries
I'd fret about in winter;
Shove them off the highest cliff,
Make them crack and splinter.
Traipsing in the gardenside,
Dancing in the hollow;
Feeling for a mason's nook,
Sweet Amontillado.
Down within the castle walls,
Down among the relics;
Bearded faces line the halls,
Lilting in Goidelic.
Slowing pace to stop and smell
Of a strange antiquity;
Thinking on a silver day
That happened once in Brittany.
Countrymen with muskets bared,
Bent on fiery shot,
Pounced upon the zealous rogues
Of Napoleonic lot.
Wand'ring mind, drop your guard,
Stop your nagging ways;
Hark! the drap'ry's bold aura
Welcomes warmer days.
Happiness is fleeting,
Sadness is extinct,
So let my every passing thought
Be mindful and succinct.
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 1:06 PM UTC
I open this door in front of me
it opens to the room I had when I was four maybe three
the walls are painted lilac and I count the beds in the room
one,
two,
three
for me and my two older sisters their names are Rachel and Brittany
I hear a giggle and look down
it's me as a little girl and oh my god that's right, my hair was a lighter shade of brown
she has on her princess sleeping gown and tells me "Here, follow me, I'll show you around, it's nighttime now or I'd ask mommy if we could go to the playground"
we're playing with her toys and she tells me "you look sorta familiar" I smile and ask her "do you think we look kinda similar?" I see her eyes moving and her brain searching her mind's perimeter she says "a little, can you tell me your name? I'm a good listener"
"I'm you from a time yet to come" I say sweetly just above a whisper, she climbs into my arms and on her forehead I kiss her
I tell her all the wonders she will see, who not to trust and all the amazing people she will meet, I tell her that some things never change; like how we still love to walk in our bare feet and how people still tell us "no one I've ever met before has been this sweet" I tell her there will be things you feel are left unsaid and incomplete and there will be times where you're biggest strength is to know when to retreat, and oh... you're going to fall deeply in love with a man, he's a musician and both his heart and drum play to their own beat, she sings with excitement "I cant wait to be older!! I've always wondered what kind of girl I'll be!!!" I look at her lovingly "you will grow into your power and strength- you are the rarest pearl from the sea- your life will be an amazing one, I love you and it's time for me to leave, but know I'm so proud of all the things you will achieve, your life will flourish sweet girl, you're in for such a treat"
Nov 27, 2024
Nov 27, 2024 at 9:47 AM UTC
Down in the grotto we’d go to swim
Whenever the tide was high
And pouring into the basin there,
At low tide it was dry,
I’d go with the Percival sisters
Who would laugh and call and dive,
While bursting out of their suits, it seemed
A time to be alive.
While Carolyn had the bigger *******
Brittany had the thighs,
Carolyn had the sweetest smile
But Brittany had the eyes,
I never could choose between them for
I loved them both the same,
They’d flaunt themselves in the grotto pool
To them it was just a game.
The light would glimmer within the cave
Reflect off the grotto walls,
And from the roof would echo again
The sound of the girls catcalls,
We’d swim, then climb on a ledge of rock
To dry ourselves in the air,
And listen to water lapping in
From the mouth of the cave out there.
They often would try to bully me
To say who I loved the best,
I’d always say that I loved them both
And they’d say I failed the test,
So one day, standing upon the ledge
They both peeled their costumes off,
And said, ‘now tell us the one you love
Or haven’t you seen enough.’
The sisters’ beauty caught at my throat
And took the most of my breath,
I’d never seen them naked before
Nor since, I swear on my death,
I couldn’t answer, so they got mad
And flung me into the pool,
Then swam around me, ******* and legs
Determined to play the fool.
Brittany trapped me between her thighs
While Carolyn pushed me down,
The water swirled at my head so long
I thought I was going to drown,
But finally they’d had enough of me
Holding me down, submersed,
And I shot up to the surface then
Thinking my lungs would burst.
It’s years since ever we went to swim
Together again, all three,
For finally I had to make a choice,
Which one would marry me.
Brittany’s now my loving wife
For I found between her thighs,
In the grotto swim, when she squeezed me in,
The truth in a world of lies.
David Lewis Paget
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
You sit on your brazen altar
worshipped as Venus
for your fake beauty
your feigned sincerity
corrupting anyone who listens
to your propaganda
whisks of dyed blonde hair
fall around your face in layers
so common a haircut
and this, so human
your greatest weapon?
I can’t watch you anymore,
so spiderlike,
catch the weaker men in your web
and with well thought out battle strategies
drain of them of every happiness
until they are broken
and alone
And these games are your life
once, they were mine too
but that was a decade ago
now, I have no desire
to play these breaking games.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 11:52 PM UTC
Losing myself in the ocean
Losing myself in the sea
Lost myself in my doubt once
That's when you were there for me
Lost myself in the tizzy of others
Lost myself to their greed
Found myself in the South, now
But losing myself to this grief
Bring me back to the lake side
Bring me back to the trees
Bring me all of the skyline
Bring me the Horizon,
Bring me to my knees
Bring me back my sweet Brittany
Or bring to where she sleeps
Lost myself in your waters
Lost myself in your clouds
Lost myself in your eyes, more than once
I'm losing myself in your absence but I'll never be lonely again.
I'll pray for you to my statue
I'll pray you're meeting your dreams
I'll pray you're dancing with shadows and lights
I'll hold your memory on lonely nights
I'll cry into my pillow
I'll cry up into my sky
I'll cry to the moon and stars and willows
I'll smile after every storm is gone
Whisper to me when you miss me
Whisper to me from beyond
Call me and tell me Nahhhhh Nahh
Call to me from the abandoned houses
Every shattered pane is your window
Call to me from the broken homes and lost buildings
Those places where where you felt whole
You drew yourself to the broken
You pulled in the pieces and loved
You drew the lonely ones towards you
You leave us with all of this love.
I'll celebrate every moment
I'll taste every breath
I'll cherish each human, and each little pet
I'll love with all I have left
Thank you for being my friend.
Rest In Pizza
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 2:02 PM UTC
aka the artist, aka prince aka PRINCE
now, that is slick!
dropping your last name, to make you more famous
even though yo daddy was there, to give it to you
and he is already famous
smith really is a boring name
independence day for your new nation's mind
what do they call the first independance day?
not the one we celebrate yearly.
but the one where it first happened?
oops
i am sorry if i hurt you
oops i
did it again
oops i did
it again
oops i did it
AGAIN!
this is brittany *****
i think she knew who it was
who needs a last name to draw a buzz?
what came first, the peach or the fuzz
all i ever got was the pit
is it okay if i call you willow smith
or is it miss willow
i will not use all caps for anybody!
i come first!
Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021 at 8:17 AM UTC