"browsed" poems
Split Personality
You wanna know what goes on in my head,
if you only knew, you would drop dead.
Anger, depression and suicidal thoughts,
maybe its all those little brain clots.
Conceited, vain and very egotistical,
confused, shocking and very mystical.
I'm eccentric, bizarre, and always unconventional,
my vision is always three dimensional.
I take the path that's less traveled,
things I do leave people baffled.
Even I don't know what I'm doing,
but trust me, I always got something brewing.
I practice in the art of deception,
I'm admired by my depth of perception.
I don't know wrong from right,
I see everything in black and white.
I'm a man you don't wanna meet,
I lie, steal and always cheat.
I'm flirty, ***** and very perverted,
if we're alone, I will leave you deserted.
I'm **** hot and always aroused,
every girl I have slowly browsed.
I love assault, ****** and ****
but I only write it for an escape.
Inside my head is torture and pain,
I'm certified and clinically insane.
Sometimes I take my medication,
when I don't, I'm on a permanent vacation.
I'd do anything to become famous,
even **** Donald Trump in his ****
I've crossed over to the dark side,
to hell, I've already applied.
There is no help for me now,
before I go please give me a bow.
I'll accept a standing ovation,
sick and tired of all the aggravation.
I used to be so nice and kind,
into heaven, I got denied.
Don't pay attention to the things you read,
I entertain you til my fingers bleed.
Ask anybody, I really a great guy,
just like REO Speedwagon, its time for me to fly.
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 2:18 PM UTC
Stories browsed by the bedside of budding of children
Told of all the adventure that awaited us
So I ran amok with my compatriots
Every one of us wreathed in youth
Burning with the boundless fuel
Of curiosity
From the streets spilled opportunities
Of Fame, Of Wealth, Of Love
Then eventually the Sun rays Bent
Before bleeding upon the stone
So that we traversed on bricks of yellow
Until sore legs led us
To an enchanted emerald mirror
And as we stared we began to wheeze
Seeing a frail old wizard or witch
Wondering “why” with a whimper
As curtains cradling clocks, crash upon us
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 8:47 PM UTC
Francesco Bianco and his Wage-Stock Men,
In keeping current with their Rooting Age
Built his Charity on a Stone-House then
As Leisure played a better word for Rage
Not much for Surplus Capital enjoyed
At least for some Tips won by droplets fall
That petty, really. Plus some Papers browsed
For those Picklings shared by survey and toll
Yes, the Compliment of those Blue-Bloods past
Of only their Musk to commensurate
Eve bowed out; Abel only if Forecast
By Cain and his Friends allowed him too late.
You would wonder how such Time could afford
And invest your Years for such brisk Concord.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
Drawstring linen pants,
Unisex from a women's catalogue.
Dark green shirt, tomboy approved.
Enough makeup to hide my faults.
Pink heart earrings, and a silver cross in the 3rd hole.
A silver cross, trans emblem and a silver heart engraved Laura, my true identity, together on a black bead chain.
Silver Lesbian insignia ring with my wedding band on top.
A black 1st finger ring etched with the Lord's prayer.
2 bracelets, one orange one turquoise to match a turquoise hat and dark glasses.
A couple of mists of Acqua di Gioia.
Women's turquoise/orange runners,
And a Victoria's secret backpack.
I didn't really think about the details until evening,
All I knew is I felt comfortable today.
I even went to Kohl's department store alone and browsed, and felt a confidence I'd rarely felt in the past.
Is this how some people feel every day I wonder?
I was so grateful for just today, just one day.
Today I was me
by Lj Mark 2015
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
Have you ever
Read Dr. Seuss
To a rap-song beat?
Have you ever
Browsed the Net
Just to want a treat?
Have you ever
Tapped the top
Of a doorway as you went past?
Have you ever
Played a game
And want it to last and last?
Have you ever
Sung the alphabet
In your head to find one letter?
Have you ever
Wrote something over
Because you thought you could do better?
Have you ever
Eaten chicken
On the day of Thanksgiving?
Have you ever
Said something dumb
To find yourself unforgiving?
Have you ever
Taken a bite
Instead of pulling string cheese apart?
Have you ever
Used big words
To make yourself sound smart?
Have you ever
Shaken your head
To get out of being dizzy?
Have you ever
Doodled in class
To make yourself seem busy?
Have you ever
Explained your steps
To a toy so you could fix it?
Have you ever
Read a site
Although it was elicit?
Have you ever
Attempted to write
With the wrong hand?
Have you ever
Went to the beach
And got your swimsuit full of sand?
Have you ever
Used a straw
To drink a glass of water?
Have you ever
Wished it would
Never get any hotter?
Have you ever
Tried to use
A spoon as a mirror?
Have you ever
Actually liked
Chocolate that was bitter?
Have you ever
Tried to boast
About how humble you are?
Have you ever
Looked at the sky
And wished you saw the stars?
All of these are things
That I have, indeed, done.
So I wrote them all out...
I sure had some fun.
Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 2:05 PM UTC
Today I ran through the archives of the extensive library of memory,
in there I found various books with titles I have been longing to read;
"Days of shimmering sunshine,"
"Friendships forged for life,"
"The purple Barney I played with,"
"The best"
and "The worst."
I browsed through myriads of red and navy blue leatherbacks,
only to realize I found myself.
I found that it contained my dreams,
my fears,
my hopes
and even the reason for the selection of my favorite chocolate.
Memory reminds us of our essence.
The essence that brings tranquility to our souls on a chaotic day,
an essence that reminds us of our path that brought us to the destination of today.
Visit the library of memory often,
and remember to take a cup of steaming tea.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:48 AM UTC
I have been looking for my poem all day
I think she may have run away
She is lost of that I am sure
The details are a bit of a blur
Her and I went on a Google search
We wanted to do a little research
We disagreed about who wrote A Poison Tree
She thought it was Frost
I thought she was wrong
The search should not have took this long
We went to different poetry sites
I went to famous poets and poems.com
I don't know what went wrong
I recently browsed the computers history
I found some reference to Expedia
I wonder if she felt the need to get away
If I called Expedia to find out if she booked a cruise
I would not know quite to say the problem is I had not named her yet
In the future I will have to remember to name a poem right away
I never would have guessed her desire to roam
If she desires to visit you ,could you let her know she is missed at home
I got the answer for what we disagreed on A Poison Tree by William Blake
I think in the future I should not argue with a poem
I want my poems to stay at home!
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 4:46 AM UTC
With Google Maps
Of subway tracks
I walked into the world
To kicks and claps
Of Spotify tracks
I walked and bopped and whirled
Off to see my Meetup friends
To the show from Last.fm
It's sad I couldn't be Foursquare mayor
But at I least I got some XM
They wouldn't get me YouTube likes
But I managed to get some Snaps
My Facebook mood was kinda rude
So I posted on YikYak
Waiting, I swiped right on Tinder
Emojis, and flirting ensued
She sent me her Tumblr, I reblogged her gifs
I asked her to Kik me a ****
Waiting, I browsed around Etsy
Posted the cool stuff to /r/pics
Got x-posted to karmaconspiracy
Was all “NAH MY GF MADE THIS"
Back IRL, ran into coworkers
They asked if I’d go down east side
I mulled it over briefly and then
I simply replied
I'll do it for the Instagram
I do it for the Vine
My phones got charge
My credits got charge
Lets go and leave it behind
I'll see it for the Periscope
I'll think it for the Tweet
And as soon as I get my Watch
Maybe I'll have a heartbeat
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
The store clerk responded with, "The store is closing"
when I asked why everything was so cheap.
He said that the recession had finally beaten them,
and I shrugged and walked towards the back.
I browsed isles of useless merchandise,
picking them up and setting them back down.
Five minutes later when I started down the second isle,
all the items I was interested in instantly broke.
I picked up a mirror,
and it mysteriously shattered in my hand.
I destroyed three coffee cups that
I had planned to purchase.
A candle crumbled in my hands
when I slid it from the shelf.
Furious that all the goods were garbage,
I marched up to the front counter.
I found the clerk slouching slothfully
and checking the clock when I approached.
When I asked why everything was so cheap,
The store clerk responded with, "The store is closing."
Jun 8, 2010
Jun 8, 2010 at 2:40 PM UTC
We scuffed across the wide sidewalks, 3 AM *****
persuading us the dim-lit bridge wouldn’t fall away beneath
our curiosity to see the university’s emptiness, content
in August’s stagnancy. I tried to picture thousands of strangers
walking different paths to reach their point B,
but soon we stepped off yellow-toned brick and I saw hippies
laying on the ground outside a pub, smoking joints.
One woman with hip-length dreads, her face as wrinkled
as crumpled love letters hidden behind my dresser, pointed
and said, You’ll forget yourself some day.
Months later, I blinked awake in the tank as dawn crept
through my cell bars, quietly, like the disappointment on my birthdays
or Mom’s sighs when she browsed the mail for child support checks
never sent by my train-wreck, truck deck loving old man
who ****** me off when I mistook him for that self-righteous cop
hell-bent on teaching me a lesson of respect.
He had that patronizing presence, and it blinded me with magma
rage I felt in my arms, through my knuckles, right to his rib cage.
I still don’t remember the way back to that dingy pub.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
I was nomophobic,
A mobile addict,
I had no time for anyone,
Day and night I was glued to one.
As soon as I woke up,
I browsed through Whats App,
Photos,videos ,and juicy gossips,
Not to forget some useful tips.
With coffee,butter and jam,
I switched to instagram,
I updated photos in latest style,
It took a while,
Soon it was time for lunch,
With the children a quick brunch,
And time to open Twitter,
My tweets were getting better,
I had a good fan following to the letter.
Tea and again Whats app,
A bite of a piece of cake or a chicken wrap.
Dinner and Facebook,
To the kitchen to have a quick look,
If the food had been prepared by the cook,
My mobile was my partner,
My relationships ceased to matter,
More important than my child was my charger,
When my mobile's battery was low,
Seeds of anxiety I would sow,
And when there was no connection,
I would sink into depression.
Something had to be done,
My addiction to lessen,
My husband sent me to a clinic,
Till I was no more an addict.
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 6:31 PM UTC
I have been looking for my poem all day
I think she may have run away
She is lost of that I am sure
The details are a bit of a blur
Her and I went on a Google search
We wanted to do a little research
We disagreed about who wrote A Poison Tree
She thought it was Frost
I thought she was wrong
The search should not have took this long
We went to different poetry sites
I went to famous poets and poems.com
I don't know what went wrong
I recently browsed the computers history
I found some reference to Expedia
I wonder if she felt the need to get away
If I called Expedia to find out if she booked a cruise
I would not know quite to say the problem is I had not named her yet
In the future I will have to remember to name a poem right away
I never would have guessed her desire to roam
If she desires to visit you ,could you let her know she is missed at home
I got the answer for what we disagreed on A Poison Tree by William Blake
I think in the future I should not argue with a poem
I want my poems to stay at home!
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
As I browsed the section of Valentine's Day cards on display at target, I came to a realization; no store-bought greeting card - regardless of how romantic or humorous or sentimental it is, or how beautifully it is crafted - could possibly do my feelings for you any justice. So, as I've done often in the past, I decided to create a letter of my own.
At other times, when I have felt my own words insufficient, I have enlisted the help of words of other wiser beings. But this time, for the first time in my life, I am at a true and utter, honest loss for words.
This brought me to another realization; there simply are no words in the English language to express the feelings I have for you, nor, I doubt, in any language on earth, or any anywhere else in this vast universe, for that matter. It cannot be said, but rather it must be felt. And do not doubt its ability to fill to the brim and completely consume the senses, for it can.
It can be seen...
by a girl who walks towards a clock tower and turns around at the sound of her name being called by a perfect stranger, whose piercingly electric blue eyes sink deeply into her soul.
It can be felt...
first, at the touch of a hand, then at the warmth of a figure laying next to and wrapping itself around and into another.
It can be heard...
in joyous laughter and music on a long car ride and birds chirping outside your window to greet you good morning, creating a melody of their own.
It can be smelled...
in perfume and chlorine and sage and sweat.
It can be tasted...
when lips meet and tongues tie and perfectly fit together like pieces of a puzzle which was before thought to be unsolvable.
And I've come to another realization still ~ the fact that I can't say how I feel doesn't really matter. Words, as much as they mean and as beautiful as they can be, when it comes to feelings like those I have for you, are the most inconsequential thing in the world.
Words don't matter when it comes to this. But if I have to use them, I'll choose the three that have the most value in my heart at this moment...
I
and
Love
and
You
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 1:41 AM UTC
His spots are the joy of the Leopard: his horns are
the Buffalo's pride.
Be clean, for the strength of the hunter is known by
the gloss of his hide.
If you find that the bullock can toss you, or heavy-
browsed Sambhur con gore;
You need not stop work inform us: we knew it ten
seasons before.
Oppress not the cubs of the stranger, but hail them
as Sister and Brother,
For though they are little and fubsy, it may be the
Bear is their mother.
"There is none like to me," says the Cub in the pride
of his earliest ****
But the Jungle is large and the Cub he is small. Let
him think and be still.
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 7:15 AM UTC
We connected and browsed each others hearts,
Connecting in Gods heart first,
Speaking nothing but blessing to each other,
We came together as family in a moment,
We connected again a week later and the fire of Gods love consumed us,
We spent the entire night full of joy with our group of friends,
Late in the night God gave us a connection,
Real change happened through our faith,
Dreams grew and blessings flow between us,
Life is a journey that we are growing in together,
Our friendship is truly a life changing story,
Growing into a future of...
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
Midnight and I'm finally awake in my hospital bed,
There was an accident which almost cost my life
Rushed, rush to the emergency room
A man in white cloak says "Bring another bag, replace all the loss blood in her system. "
Eyes were focused on the lightings above.
Consciousness has left the body in the hands of a stranger.
Limbs were broken but wait, there's more.
I reached for my phone to play its tunes,
Browsed chrome, and spot myself to a familiar page
Nothing fascinating, only a sentiment of a man
I read through the pages as Sam Smith sings "Lay Me Down"
Water in my eyes started to flow while the moonlight glows
Like an empty shell in the ocean, I remain still.
Days ago, I had everyone introduce themselves.
The back side of the brain was hit, but the frontal lobe was damaged badly, a contracoup.
Doctor says this won't be permanent, just a temporary amnesia.
I listened to the ramblings around, I am lost.
Attention deficit disorder makes it hard to focus
My thoughts keep on going back to the man behind those lines
Who are you?
How are we related?
I dig my mem'ries
Deeper I go each ******* day
Blank, nothing but a blank parchment
I lost it in the seven seas.
Let's try and retrieve it.
No, once gone, there's no going back.
No, don't say no.
At least let me do my best.
Such a stubborn woman.
For once, listen to what they say
You're at fault for your misery
I don't give up, I never give up.
This is just a temporary memory lost, nothing that much.
The blood started dripping again,
I stared at the stars and the moon above.
In the realm of dreams, I return.
As an old love song says "Till the day my life is through, this I promise you. "
Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 3:21 AM UTC
Sun-hit summer noon
On a sunlit Sunday
End of the day cooled
Thanks to full moon day
Moonlit night of sunlit moon
Coolant night at its height
Valentines volunteered to date
And seek dim light delight
Long drive drove,
For a week-end whisper,
At a tranquil cove.
All green scenes
Canopy, canvas n carpet
The duo is due for love
Chirping parrot pairs,
Nibbled and anchored.
Nature flagged off green
Moon-shine filtered thru leaves
The pair signed up, signed in
Browsed in melodious breeze
Aroused passions pure n sure
Lips sipped, slipped n clipped
The wetting vetted the deal
Her cheeks blushed in joy
Kiss keyed in love
Love locked life for life.
To the blush of wife- to- be
To be the bliss of life
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
Sun-hit summer noon
On a sunlit Sunday
End of the day cooled
Thanks to full moon day
Moonlit night of sunlit moon
Coolant night at its height
Valentines volunteered to date
And seek dim light delight
Long drive drove,
For a week-end whisper,
At a tranquil cove.
All green scenes
Canopy, canvas n carpet
The duo is due for love
Chirping parrot pairs,
Nibbled and anchored.
Nature flagged off green
Moon-shine filtered thru leaves
The pair signed up, signed in
Browsed in melodious breeze
Aroused passions pure n sure
Lips sipped, slipped n clipped
The wetting vetted the deal
Her cheeks blushed in joy
Kiss keyed in love
Love locked life for life.
To the blush of wife- to- be
To be the bliss of life
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
My old teacher, she taught me of sunlight.
She taught me
of the energy waves,
crashing through the window.
She browsed
over distorted polygraphs
bleached in daylight;
oh, crashing black mark.
She wandered
through the courtyards at break,
eyes off and into the distance,
and always she,
the bleak reminder,
of memories turned to black.
She read in down-turned whisper,
lips twitching
the words, all for herself;
making sense of life
through ornamental verse.
A rapture of cerulean eyes,
she took my teenage heart
to town, just to pay the fare.
She taught me
of impossible love,
of all beyond the walls.
She taught me
of the paradise-life,
where memory unfurls.
She taught me
of matriarchal health,
in the strength of her stare,
explaining in her youth
eternal, that is etched
into my mind;
that not all that is loved, is fair,
and not all that is valued, is mined.
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 8:14 PM UTC
This used to be normal
My mother swagged in it
For my Sistos, weight magic
Then things fell apart
When they "kayamatized" it
Some only planned to wipe
Clean the play head and "jakpa"
They only wanted installation
After the romp on waist bead
They subscribed to full installation
"Ana no ofu ebe ekiri mmaun"
That was your slogan when you browsed
You forget she is a daughter of eve
Wiser than all the men in your clan
Congratulations, welcome to fatherhood it ended
Some scientists use this special science
Never will the land be fertile
As long as the gate is waistly beaded
It is a covenant made with the gods
For it is just but "Akamu" from an income man
In my lifetime, I have seen beautiful
They glow in the dark and beckons on you
Crystal beads fit only for nobles
If one thing must **** a man
Then my cause is chosen
In my sojourn as a globetrotter
I have crossed many seas
Swam oceans untold in foreign lands
But none is as sweet as you
My precious "Ileke Idi..."
Babatunde Raimi
+23478827380 & +2348035063895
P.S: "Ileke Idi" means waist bead in local Yoruba parlance.
May 26, 2020
May 26, 2020 at 7:32 PM UTC
Of long streets marked by dim lights.
Concrete steps that ran the side,
of your leathern'd shoes worn out,
by the myriad looks that browsed,
through your soul and left you untouched.
Solemn, You, sideways the smile.
Poet Prophet of the Night.
Only you could fathom All:
Broken windows of the Soul;
Nightless smiles, and daytime Owls
Who, in smooth cadence walked,
stepping into voids of
Coin,
selling their skin;
conjuring
The Harlem Dark,
Of their opaque,
blythe...
Lost Dream.
J. Eduardo Ramos©
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
So i just ya know browsed
and i got a little angry but...
**** the haters...
wannabe God's
but ya know i typed ******
and behold behold what popped up
like wow
got thinking
like a poem was like
they see my hoodie and assume da da da da da
..and whatever
and like in my daily life
i mean theres real ppl sure...
but
ppl see me
my skin, my beautiful ***** braided hair, and choose to see...
evil....
see a criminal..
just see the fear in their face...
its like im all they see in that hallway
like im bout to **** em or some ****
its reall weird
and i dont think anyone can get used to someone potraying them as a killer first sight...
its like either that..
or they just see bad...
they see a reason to pity
they wanna feel sorry for me and dont even know my story
...or if i even have a story
they see a criminal, a fool, dumb *** ugly chic, and a sob to feel sorry for..
ya know
and i think people just kinda stare...
they see me confident
...enjoying myself
..well pretending to
and they stare
oh yes
they stare
they try to...
but their drawn
like i actually did some wrong ****
and this the whole world im talkin about
everyone judging me
and putting me under one of those catergories
but you know some smile
"smile alright"
you know im not racist
i just feel the way i am is better
spare me your lame excuse girl
spare me
like ive seen it all
and its something that i used to hide
like i didnt see it
but i mean
those he cant handle
my boldness
can go **** themselves
cant handle my blackness
my "ghettoness"
my me'ness
then bye
its like yeah
this is me
life chooses not to go in my direction
simply because its a *****
and i mean life dont like perfect...
so what
..im still a rockstar
i got my rock moves
and i dont need you
..or is it help
but either
life is life
i lie..you lie
i **** up..you **** up
im scared \..your scared
you get it
life is full of many awkward situations...
and people
o the people
but life is so much more than that....
and everything else
...to me
its about exploring a world of wonder
and laughter
and flowers and rainbows
and smiles
and kisses
and love
and realness
its very real when you realise
...like literally in 2 seconds...
that i mean its not gonna be perfect ever
and your mind is built to try to picture the most perfectess crap ever
and it wants you to be happy
...thats all but
think....
allow yourself
to be in now...
not in anyone else's mind
but yours
because thats why its
your
im pointing at you
mind...
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 7:49 PM UTC
memories sewn into the lining
I unpick sometimes
a good book read
and some a living nightmare
sewn back up out of sight
cherished and put away
while the harder reads browsed
one day I will fully understand
this oldering mind growing
to the full stature of Mankind
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 7:55 AM UTC