"bustard" poems
There was an old person of Florence,
Who held mutton chops in abhorrence;
He purchased a Bustard,
And fried him in Mustard,
Which choked that old person of Florence.
2.5k
my heart
like a small drunk boat
between two coves
with no oars,
like the the top of a match stick
ready to be lit
my heart
like a bustard
wandering on the mine fields of regrets,
like seagulls
lost on the fingers of
a fool poet
my heart
either will get lost on these flows
or resurrect on these ebbs
poems like no words
is my heart
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 9:13 AM UTC
The molehill got bigger
Behind the red crimson barn. Gramp's gun today will have some fun. Shooting away at the furry rat bustard's!
Their holes have made my crop's a sickly figure
Creating my land into disaster
As a creating poet I'll write of the hole digger's
As a grandpa,
I'll shoot their brain out of their head's.
Mole day
Today their dead!
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 8:15 AM UTC
She doesn’t love she is just happy
Only fools fall but to her even giants have no chance
Ever felt that anything was possible under the ****** sun yet you know tis’just a silly dream like you didn’t acknowledge the cloud’s presence
Like a demon I fear angels wish I could have learnt this before I persuaded heaven gates to open
She doesn’t hate she is just a **** that blinds me like the ***** has powers
She doesn’t keep her faith she is just there to be carried like a coconut on the salty sea going with the breeze
****** up even before my dawn like I worshiped the moon and didn’t swear pledges with the sun
Aimed at the star for ignition yet I am just a coal
Like a poor man I forgot that I was a bustard aimed higher than I could scale
My saliva now chokes me down to my true self
Thought I was moving on yet I didn’t know the ****** direction
Directed my own film yet irrationally didn’t man up to watch my **** in the theater
Sep 13, 2019
Sep 13, 2019 at 1:33 PM UTC
Tears are flowing
through the night river of life
The heart is left with wounds
With no cure.
The world,Community,
sees it
As an impurity .
They are labeled as out casts
With extemporaneous!
They have lost the most
Precious treasures
Now pressures,are all over
To figure out insults
Received.
They are painted as bustard
They are left with no title
They have failed to find Love
And shelter
So...
They have to find Love outdoor
Because their is no indoor love
For someone to show them
Their hearts are like a broken mirror
And their is no one to mend
The linkage of their wounds
Because they're seen as outsiders
Among them!
One can change the world
One of them!
Can be a leader of tomorrow
They're impacted with fear
And no one need to hear
Their idea!
Just because they seems
Like their hearts are tightened
With cases, abomination and adulteries ,
Ancestors did back then!
We have fail to know the definition of reality
Because we're too sincere,
To our certainties.
They also need to live like you.
They also admires what you do!
"Let's not look upon them down
For one of them can change
The world."
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 1:23 PM UTC
Wake up early every morning
After every late night
Ignore the headache that you have
Big girls do not cry, big girls will not die.
Thank God for keeping you well
Ask him not to forget 7 billion others as well.
Be a good mother to your brothers
Be a good sister to your mother
You'll never know what it's like, one being one to you.
Since they hid father's bustard daughter from you.
THERE IS NO TIME FOR LOVE
Leave that handsome young boy be.
Trade the little care time you have,
For shackles of freedom.
Be a slave to this life my darling
So you could live like a queen one day.
Don't focus on self growth
Let them shower you with admiration
Maybe your black rose may feed on their poisonous waters.
Ignore the pinches you feel on your back baby.
It's just 7 billion voices whispering knives and twisting them in..
"That old lonely hag. We always thought she was a witch."
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 1:32 AM UTC