"captian" poems
You lurk in chat rooms talkin
bout what you'd like to do.
All naked accept for a captian's hat.
Ya know after hello it's probaly
not best to ask do you wanna *****
Mr pervert do you enjoy.
Taking trips to mexico maybe to take in a
show.
Getting beat with a wire hanger
being called a bad boy.
Were ya born with a ***** loose?
Did uncle Charlie get to friendly
and papa John slip something in your juice?
Do you really like farm hand dot com
thats just wrong.
No Mr pervert I dont wanna see pics of you
covered in oil wearing a thong.
And im really not into what ya can fit
up your ***
Glad to know what happend to that goon
at the back of the class.
No you cant have my number.
Okay your a woodman.
Please I really dont need any pics of
your lumber.
No I dont wanna wrestle in the dark you freak.
Yes im happy you enjoy being beat every
other day of the week.
You really need some help.
Yes I think to catch a preditor would be a
great show for you to make a appearence.
No I dont wanna play airlane.
so ***** your clearence.
Please why cant that connection to
your basement just go out.
Guess what your doing now.
Well to be honest I know without a single
doubt.
I can imagine what its like to be you.
well ***** that cause theres some ****
so freaky even I wont do.
So when ya see that name appear
on the screen it's probaly best to ignor.
I mean unless your really into hanging out
with a lathred up nut who eats outta
a dog dish apon the floor.
I was flipping through the channels
and to no suprize what did I see.
why dateline with Chris Hanson and
Mr pervert on my t.v.
I had to laugh at every word said.
Gooodbye Mr pervert.
Didnt take a geinus to figure out
you were ****** up in the head.
Feb 17, 2010
Feb 17, 2010 at 11:33 AM UTC
They call the ship 'Burden,'
An indestructible vessel,
Rival to the monsters of the sea.
It's exactly what the people needed,
For you see,
In the depths lurked a beast.
Eighty tentacles, four trade ships tall and wide,
A hundred-thirty teeth when it's smile lied.
They called it, "Kraken."
It was nothing of the likes you've seen,
Emperor of the dark sea.
The Burden could hold fifteen hundred men,
Arming harpoons, cannons, muskets, wit.
The king ordered them to turn the seas red with gore,
Call forth the Kraken,
Strike it dead.
Then to the king,
They would drag back it's head.
So come high-noon,
The ship was in place,
Above the deepest of sea caves.
Letting forth crates of bait,
Staining the waters of the sea,
Until the sailors heard a rumble,
Shake the Burden's iron shell.
Up from the waters came long river's hell,
Tentacles like spires towering well beyond the sails.
But the crew held steady,
"Tighten the ropes, arm our cannons,"
Cried the captain,
"Then fire!"
The seas filled with blood,
The sky filled with gunpowder, fractured shells,
A shriek rang out from the deeps.
The cry of death,
From the Kraken itself.
Tentacles sinking away,
"The head!" Cried the captian,
So Lutenent Lucus dived after the creature.
Tied by a rope,
Pike in hand,
The creature's head,
He began to drag.
Though, glancing over his shoulder,
Through the murk he could see,
The form of a woman swimming away.
Some curse broken, he decided,
A soul freed from grim reality.
Peace.
Jun 11, 2025
Jun 11, 2025 at 10:53 AM UTC
Ever think that you matter?
That you were gifted,
You gift grabber?
Tell me, do you take the time
To listen to your chatter?
Inside your head
Thought throws the pitch
But there is no Batter
And your voice is always louder
But your words
They never matter!
You belch your stupidity over and over
From the flaming pits of hell
To the furthest supernova
Are you the Captian of this ship,
You heartless waste of carbon?
I've washed better from my feet
Trust me, I've done it often
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 7:11 PM UTC
The boy was fourteen,
What did you expect?
His thoughts in the clouds
But mainly on ***
When life seemed to be
Falling apart at the hinge,
He grasped for some direction
If just to feel the fringe
Of a way that would set him free.
Free from the fallacy he knew.
His friends all a lie,
Not a one he called true.
As if by divine intervention
A passage shown through.
He found a place called Walden Pond;
Ralph & Walt there too.
"O' Captian, my Captain
My life to you I truly owe.
For mine was but defined by the world
Til my sense of self, you bestowed."
The boy was of himself;
The world left not a trace.
He was ready to learn of poets and scholars,
But then he saw her face.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
You are a poets dream,
If I am to be a poet.
Hair as light and fluffy as a cloud.
Yet dense and woven like,
Vines in a forest of trees.
You are a poets dream.
If I am to put words on paper.
Smile as wide as the horizon.
Yet devious and charming like,
the demons that are biblical.
You are a poets dream.
If I am to believe in the word.
Eyes as deep as the ocean.
Yet changing and searching like,
a lighthouse in the storm.
You are a poets dream.
If I am to keep the beat.
Hands as strong as stone.
Yet guiding and scarred like,
the seasoned boat captian.
You are a poets dream.
If I am to patch the scene.
Heart as heavy as an anchor.
Yet beating and living like,
Mine.
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 12:46 PM UTC