"chow" poems
you sowed this **** into my brain...
why do you even "think"
that i want... you?
i, want your children...
the meme-mutation is what i'm
after...
and there are plenty of useful idiots
to allow me to process
the intermediating processes
for: the sigma, "accomplishment";
which is unlike
what infected mushroom's -
trance party track sounds like,
outside of my own head.
why do these people even
think i'm after their genes
of memes?
i want, their infantile
replicas...
i want to craft a
worthwhile curiosity,
on a canvas, that that they call
their gene replicas, children,
and... like why called me...
easy meat..
einfachfleisch...
what?
i'm not here for these news' anchors...
i'm here for their children...
nibble nibble nibble chew chow
cow tow and main...
prawn crackers...
ah... news anchors are
easy targets...
slightly pointless
20x bulls eye honing devices...
it's their children...
i want their children...
i want their cognition
to become replica of wheelchair
bound infirmaries;
why?
oh... you know...
football and wrestling,
given the Qatar investment plan...
the whole sport "thing"
became a tad bit boring...
had to resort to secondary sources
of entertainment;
children of news anchors?
the secondary, "last",
albeit, the best resort;
schindler...
required a list,
to become reincarnated...
and revive a **** a heartlessness
of an reincarnation
anomaly:
i.e.: what, a limited number
of people, to begin with?!
so the rest is primitive "a.i."?
now i'm starting to think...
thank the blue indians
for their culinary innovations...
but when it comes
to their theology?
**** 'em;
did i advocate that?
if i did... within what pronoun
guarantee of advocacy?
playing the grammar card...
which pronoun?
the plural singular,
or the singular plural,
or the gender neutral?
thank you jean-paul sartre,
for the... "i"...
i simply love, this revised concept
of a unit...
the revision clinging
to the royalist affirmation of pronouns...
i.e. 1 would say... so...
and 1... would, so, will, do so.
**** the pronoun debate
in Canadian politics...
if i have to resort to this?
then i will...
like your plain citizen...
may "i" speak within
the confines, of the royal, one,
given the example:
one might suppose...
to be the former, and the current,
highest, etiquette?
gender neutrality of pronouns...
last time i checked...
one was never allowed
pronoun stature...
why not address this
conundrum, to begin with?!
oh, right... too late...
too many loud mouths
without a guillotine...
so, basically, a cow fart's
worth of argumentation.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 11:51 PM UTC
Giovanni the Pizza Guy (Pronounce "a" as "uh")
Giovanni,you make a de savory tomato
and de thicka white creamy alfredo
you are a de pizza guy, amor'e
Si', I make a de homemade paste
she's a richer for you taste
and that's a part of my story.
I make a de pizza pie
I make a it to please
you wanna de pepperoni
or you wanna de plain cheese ?
I am a you waiter I take a you order
when you food-she a comes
she make a you mouth water
I make a de perfect pizza
in me you should a trust
you wanna de thicka or de thinna crispy crust?
I can make a spagetti or make a zucchini
butta for you , I make a linguine
I can make a de sauce red
I can make a it white
after you taste-you wanna more bite
I make a de spagetti -she's a made a with love
I cook a real slow you order ahead ;
or you take a to go.
I putta de stuff on de top
I give a you wine or a some pop
Uno momento, will you please
I must a cut a de cheese
I am a you pizza guy to make a you pizza pie
Why must a you stay a at home
when a you can a dine a in a Rome ?
I save a you a table
I tell a you a fable
I fill a you pants
I make a you dance
I make a de sauce thick
I make a de sauce thin
I make a you laugh
I make a you grin !
Si', Please a come a back ; see a Giovanni again!
CHOW FOR NOW, BELLISIMA !
Nov 26, 2010
Nov 26, 2010 at 2:45 PM UTC
Dysfunctional behind closed doors
Shapeshifted the lovesick *****
She'll touch you timid, trembling hands
Scared that you arent coming back
Digs through drawers and under the sink
Searching for her missing link
A cigarette will do for now
At least it isn't puppy chow
Shameless in her actions past
Comfortable in coming last
Theres more than at the surface level
And everybody's personal hell
Clove hitch knot around her waist
She followed at a steady pace
Wrapped around your pinky finger
She mimicked all you seemed to give her
What her eyes can do to you
Back of my throat still tastes like glue
What a sullen memory
Of what that **** can do to me
She bites her nails and fingertips
Terrified that she might slip
A clumsy dance that she once knew
Of falling into penance due
Twirl your hair and crack a smile
This one's gonna take awhile
Different or the same old same old
They've paid for it in pounds of fools gold
Chasing after fading dreams
Tripping up on memories
Will she make it on her own
A concept simple, yet unknown
A reunion of the sweetest kind
Desperate to escape the time
Spirits burn an empty soul
But never can they make one whole
Echoing within her chest
"You have always been the best"
She sips and stares across the room
Shadowed by her phantom groom
Cut off from hearts nourishment
All on her own cursed to lament
The choices that she didn't make
And chances that she didn't take
A sigh inside an empty mind
A drop of water off the tide
She's buried next to clementines
Roots entangle, synchronize
What a pretty little mess
Of despondancy and tenderness
And she's still waiting underground
For a love once frolicked, love once found
Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 7:39 PM UTC
The daughter of the village Maire
Is very fresh and very fair,
A dazzling eyeful;
She throws upon me such a spell
That though my love I dare not tell,
My heart is sighful.
She has the cutest brown caniche,
The French for "poodle" on a leash,
While I have Bingo;
A dog of doubtful pedigree,
Part pug or pom or chow maybe,
But full of stingo.
The daughter of the village Maire
Would like to speak with me, I'll swear,
In her sweet lingo;
But parlez-vous I find a bore,
For I am British to the core,
And so is Bingo
Yet just to-day as we passed by,
Our two dogs haulted eye to eye,
In friendly poses;
Oh, how I hope to-morrow they
Will wag their tails in merry play,
And rub their noses.
* * * * * * *
The daughter of the village Maire
Today gave me a frigid stare,
My hopes are blighted.
I'll tell you how it came to pass . . .
Last evening in the Square, alas!
My sweet I sighted;
And as she sauntered with her pet,
Her dainty, her adored Frolette,
I cried: "By Jingo!"
Well, call it chance or call it fate,
I made a dash . . . Too late, too late!
Oh, naughty Bingo!
The daughter of the village Maire
That you'll forgive me, is my prayer
And also Bingo.
You should have shielded your caniche:
You saw my dog strain on his leash
And like a spring go.
They say that Love will find a way -
It definitely did, that day . . .
Oh, canine noodles!
Now it is only left to me
To wonder - will your offspring be
Poms, pugs or poodles?
4k
Gypsy Rose Lee.
Is that you or me?
Does that make you Baby June?
The favourite and best
No concern for the rest
You sing and you dance in the tune.
Or just like Gypsy
You learn how to strip tease
The glamour and glitz of the night.
But who's mama Rose?
And how could I know?
She pushes and leads to a fight.
But Gypsy is magic
And a rare art form
And June is so dainty
Doesn't know when she's born
She's the centre of attention
She's the first one who speaks
And Gypsy is left there
Still being Louise.
Chow mein and lambs
Travel the land
A show on vaudeville stage.
Let me entertain you
Let me have a try too
Honey, were you not entertained?
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 5:17 PM UTC
. what?
between MC hammer...
and men at work...
there's a choice?
come on...
you could have given
me an easier question,
like... Debussy
contra Satie...
or, like...
egg yolk or egg white?!
point being...
i'd love to see
christopher lambert
play the role of
raiden in that... mortal kombat
game made into a motion
picture...
you know...
if i owned a PS2...
i'd still be a gamer...
but i never owned a PS2....
or the metal gear solid 2
gaming experience...
not the PS1 experience
fighting ****** mantis*...
you know that hack / cheat...
when you switch controller
slots...
when ****** mantis* is
giving his grandiose speech..
and you switch the controller
ports, so that in in the game
you're not predictable...
final fantasy 7?!
completed it with a walk-through...
sorry... homework...
that being said:
all of Friday night and all of
Saturday morning...
and some Tenchu....
wacky-Jacky...
cow later chow,
enter mein...
choppers chop chop...
these days?
i game...
when i take a ****
i figured... if there are people who
take a book to the crapper...
i'll take a game...
war robots....
you know what's fascinating?
the interactive applicability of
a game...
team-work...
mesmerizing...
the whole gaming
structure drifted from a narrative,
to a congregational dynamism...
solipsism unraveled...
i dig the whole team work,
while taking a ****
love it... 5 stars review...
but am i a gamer...
do i not think that
a.i. is a revamp of Pinocchio?
no...
but metal gear solid?
a ******* solid game
on PS1...
you would be talking to a gamer
if i was allowed to buy
a PS2 console...
oh right...
i read books and listened to music,
and ended up writing anti-routine /
anti-technicality poetry /
anti-rhyme poetics....
my bad;
"we're" calling a revision
of chess in play;
yeah... sorry...
i was never into paragraphs,
with dialogue interludes...
for me...
poems were always above
a structural stature of paragraphs;
something to do with
haiku or... whatever came out of
Godzilla's mouth.
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 11:05 PM UTC
There is a cat in my home, and slowly it has grown fatter from feasting on food that I own.
I go to work every day, so theres no possible way that this cat could look for pray.
Yet still, somehow, when I return, he's stuffed.
Belly filled with pizza crust he looks as if he'll bust.
Somehow he finds a way outside, where he roams to neighbors homes to fill up on old turkey bones.
Second breakfast and for lunch this hungry cat would munch, till diner came, then the game would change and just like that this cat would be back.
In the morning when I leave, this cat would beg that I come home with fishes. The begging grew bad, so I'de do exactly as she wishes. Heres the trouble: I feed her once, shes still hungry, so i feed her double. Hours of her mighty meow. Her, just sitting there constantly, bellowing just like a cow, until I provide her with her chow. Now, I tried feeding her less and getting her to run but Im just competing with my stress when that cats not having fun. She would sit and moan, Oh the noises she'd groan as Ide remove her from the cushion she had claimed as her thrown.
After this cat had Disowned me, I had learned just like that, that infact it was actualy the cat who had owned me. See cats are a beast of nature, there a creature that can not be tampered. So when theyve been pampered and foods been delivered, you can bet a strong bet that this cat will expect to be treated with the best packaged liver from a duck that Wal-Mart can deliver.
Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC
Little Box talks back
With a new set of teeth
And pink gums
A fake nose and a wax mustache
She disguises her voice
To sound like Groucho
•
Little Box opens up
And cries to her psychiatrist
I don’t know why they hate me
I’m such a sweetheart
I volunteer at the zoo
And teach Mandarin
To their bratty children
•
Little Box is not happy to see you
So she closes herself up for months
Years, decades, and two millennia!
She tacks up a sign that says
Nirvana
•
Little Box is undead
She sleeps all day in a coffin
Hands over chest
At night she cruises the mall
For juicy victims
She prefers type A
But AB if she has to
What can you say
Vampires can’t be choosy
She likes your stupid brother
•
Little Box is on the psychiatry couch
Everybody hates me
Nobody loves me
Little Box lies on her side
And spills her guts
•
What’s in Little Box
A perfect orchid
A chocolate-covered strawberry
A new iPhone
With a glittery sleeve
Amber earrings from Pushkin
Keys to a new Porsche
A retro Chanel brooch
A Getty scion’s left ear
A Czar’s *****
Gifts so rare
Please don’t stare
•
What’s in Little Box
Rancid chow mein
A sliver of cold pizza
Last week’s hummus
You’re a starving orphan
From East Brooklyn
And you’ll eat it
•
So you want to **** Little Box
You want to know her secret
She won’t open up
She won’t give it up
And you are genuinely repelled
By her filthy ribbon
•
You want to DO the Little Box
You are a sorry story
You big creep
Why don’t you get off the couch and find
A real girlfriend!
•
Boss Box
White, square, and without a soul!
•
Please don’t analyze Little Box
She’s just cardboard clogging the landfill
Her mother Precious Jade Purse
Has been regifted
Jul 29, 2016
Jul 29, 2016 at 1:58 AM UTC
He had just sat down to dinner
at the Heart Attack Grill.
The fab Las Vegas nightspot
where the fatties eat their fill
A place where the morbidly obese
and Summo wannabees
can chow down to their heart’s content
cause Fatties eat for free.
Nurse Bridgette brought his burger
and he started feeling ill.
As he slurped his triple milkshake
did he feel a sudden chill?
Was it the unfiltered cigarettes
He went through by the pack?
Or the triple bypass burger
that brought on his heart attack?
He started turning purple
and was rolling on the floor.
He was regretting his decision
to bypass that health food store.
Nurse Bridgette practiced CPR
and dialed emergency.
Thanks to her ministrations
He'll make a full recovery.
Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 10:14 PM UTC
when i'm drinking i always think
the whiskey bottle
to be in a predicament
of the bus stop;
i mean, waiting, for my
eager slurp (god i wish
i could insert an onomatopoeia
right now) -
i ate that body part and even
nozzled it, i mean
i stuck my nose in it
being ripe... you better have
sunday's news to let me forget;
i swear, performing oral
*** on women's genitalia
makes you into an orator...
or perhaps a gardener -
that skin fold sure as **** speaks!
well, better testimony than
abraham circumcising isaac
against holy ordained orders
not to; but then the cat and dog
doing overt-masturbation licking
the **** thing;
yes darling... pooch pooch ouch ooh
now chow ready for a pampering?
munch a moo choo cha cha wee wee?
yeah, get that slobbering *****
filler out of here;
oi! bring bang the blonde comb-over ferret!
i ain't doing the spider dangle
without it!
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
Fluffy puppies all around
Hiding bones underground
Failing to not make any sound
Inside, outside sniffing the air
Of their surroundings they are aware
They don’t do it to give you a scare
They want to show you that they care
Chihuahuas, Chow Chows, corgis too
Enough breeds to fill a zoo
Too many breeds to name
I love them all the same
While every puppy is great
Mine was brought to me by fate
Not a moment too late
My puppy makes my heart full
Life with him is never dull
While my dog may drive me crazy
He is forever my baby
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 12:18 AM UTC
"Werewolves Of London"
I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand
Walking through the streets of Soho in the rain
He was looking for the place called Lee ** Fook's
Going to get a big dish of beef chow mein
Werewolves of London
If you hear him howling around your kitchen door
Better not let him in
Little old lady got mutilated late last night
Werewolves of London again
Werewolves of London
He's the hairy handed gent who ran amuck in Kent
Lately he's been overheard in Mayfair
Better stay away from him
He'll rip your lungs out, Jim
I'd like to meet his tailor
Werewolves of London
Well, I saw Lon Chaney walking with the Queen
Doing the werewolves of London
I saw Lon Chaney, Jr. walking with the Queen
Doing the werewolves of London
I saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic's
His hair was perfect
Werewolves of London again
Draw blood
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC
To my Sisters and Brothers in Arms:
Hello, Hola, Guten Tag etc. and Salutations
For the Tribulations and Trials we've Endured...
...I'm sure by this Present Frame
You all (or most) know who you
R and what you THINK? You're
Supposed to B DOING.
I'll start to unwind and
Integrate slowly from here on -->
This Q.C.[O.I.^3]
I already have a ready (but nearly untapped)
Network that should be able to
Mesh me into the Bigger Picture,
At both the Local and Global Scale.
Chow, for now (or until I get bored/BOAR'D/Barred?!/Abroad again);
I'm sure to see you (or you'll see me) down the track sometime SOONISH!!!?
P.S. Would someONE look after me missus until I make it Home?
Hasta pronto, me Amigos.
Col
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 6:39 AM UTC
chinese chow-mian
little brown worms
wriggling past soya sauce
skinny dipping into sizzling sauté stew
lavished with molten eggs
strangled by wooden chopsticks silently
heavenly.
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 6:05 AM UTC
I should write a villanelle right now,
without delay—no more ado will do—
I would, except I can’t remember how.
Indeed, my meter mastery would wow,
And always rhyming perfectly would woo—
I should write a villanelle right now.
I bet that I could even court a cow
With deft command of each and every moo—
I would, except I can’t remember how.
Soon, I’ll lose my grasp on “thee” and “thou,”
And I’ll be barely left with “me” and “you”—
I should write a villanelle right now.
But first, maybe I’ll try to find some chow.
I could make a hearty soup or stew—
I would, except I can’t remember how.
Before I storm the stage to take a bow,
Uncertain if I’ll get a cheer or boo,
I should write a villanelle right now—
I would, except I can’t remember how
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 12:24 PM UTC
The sun is out in Jacksonville
Me oh my goodness gracious alive
Now that the Richter scale has calmed down
I'm happy to say, we've all survived
Hoping from the beginning we'd go extra innings
And that our side would win
Between the Suns owner and the fans who are moaners
We are now the Jacksonville Jumbo Shrimp
So batter up you people
No need to be steamed it's just life
Though can you imagine the jokes from all of the folks
Might make us so boiling mad we could fry
And then there's the question of Southpaw
What's that mascot still doing here
I'm sure he can fetch but that's about it
Something smells fishy in this sailors beard
But I digress from where we should be
The theme is the name of the team
And I might be in hot water if I go any further
Without explaining what I really mean
Though you may not find
It very a-peel-ing
The way the owner did
In this fishy dealing
It might be to late but it's only a name
Try if you can to chow down on this
The teams still the same so come out to the games
No need for you to be so shellfish
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 4:41 PM UTC
Love is a difficult thing to explain.
But then again, love can be difficult.
Love is choosing sushi over chow-mein.
Just because you know its their favorite.
It's the I'm sorry's when your not,
and the thank you's even when your mad.
It's the little presents you buy without forethought.
And the little love notes you discover.
It is the passionate love making,
and the fierce make up ***
It's the "I think your beautiful"'s when your clearly aging.
It's also the connection and the reminiscing of stories you share.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 1:01 AM UTC
A vista
spiels with neon
Non-essential conversation repeating
Humanity hovers at the entrance
In this shopping centre every need seems urgent
Mouths pause their chatter
To sip at coffee or chow down burger
Gestures are reinforced with nail polish,
jewellery on many fingers
and small change passing across counter tops
In here the weather is neither warm nor cool
and everything seems designed to stimulate my mediocrity
Reflection in the shop-front is on sale at bargain price
but today I cannot afford to buy on impulse
I turn away to blend
With colourful blah
MChallis © 2009 (reworked 2014)
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 7:14 AM UTC
I'm about to slip
quietly into sleep
when the cat,
her food bowl bare
and the drink dried up
like Mojave,
hops on my back
and feigns affection
her sharp claws
stabbing here & there
in a soft attack
as she carves out
a cozy perch
in my flesh.
I lurch up
grunting and fumbling
pull the short chain
on the night table lamp
and in the pale green glow
pad off into the kitchen
scouting for Cat Chow
and a measure
of peace
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC
The smell of fresh summer peaches fill the air,
a willow tree blows gently under a sunny abyss.
Silence fills the caterpillars cocoon and here I lay under the moon.
Hot night, soft breeze, smell of whiskey underneath the trees.
Crops are a grow'n' and the farmers fiddle sits on the hay.
Bonfires, beers and roasting fish on a smear rod snicket.
In the distance the scare crow stands tall and strong to protect the farmers land.
Animals squawk, hibernate and lock themselves in for a winter cold coming ahead.
Snowflakes fall, warm stew to be made by mom, morning comes, cup of chow time to relax with grandpa Jo.
Seasons pass and Spring is here at last,
muddy puddles, ***** feet, time to plant more growing seeds.
Life is beautiful, so is time, make it right and you shall find,
the touch, and warmth of every goodnight
Jul 19, 2021
Jul 19, 2021 at 3:26 AM UTC
some might call them
mongolian dumplings;
i just call them home;
chewy chow mein, bean spraut
nervous system geography;
oh but aren't you a home away
from home? so welcome,
to be adequately attired..
jolly gee... i better put on my
cowboy hat & shoes as to
just prove the chance of doing a rodeo!
well, you know how the english
just love to talk about travelling to las vegas
and... kentucky... for that juggled fried chicken...
mm yum! i better have me a spare
clown with those wagon tires!
no... wait... israel's coming! dicta dicta,
a non-existent Judah!
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 10:05 PM UTC
Wear a smile on your face,
Wear a smile all day,
For nothing you wear, looks lovely without it
Smile away the day,
and watch the effect
you pass around
It might just cheer up the not
so gay
and happiness may well
abound.
And don't you look your best
when you do smile
No wonder you're asked to say
'cheese' for a photo
but the trick is to wear it all
the while
'To smile without distinction'
be thy motto.:)
When someone creases their
forehead into a frown
You curve your lips upward
into a smile
Don't let their scowl get you
down
They,d be the one to look the
clown
while you show off your
inspiring style.
If people stare 'n' glare at you
Return their glares and stares
with a grinning smile
Keep smiling whether they boo
or pooh pooh
They might just reset their
mental file.
Thus forever flash your
pearlywhites
They aren't meant merely for
chow and bites.
Flash em' into a smile that
lights
A crescent shaped smiley on
the face
explore your own ******
expression delights.:)
A smile is a sign of happiness right under your nose
Smile warmly like the sunshine, like the crescent moon
Even when the icy cold wind of discourtesy blows
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 2:12 PM UTC
A corner of a room is a misguided place to cower in.
Bad move!
Especially after you have just had chicken chow mein styled into your hair.
You sit.
Transfixed.
You watch.
Catatonic.
Prawn ***** glisten like diamonds in the snow as they slide effortlessly down the peeling wallpaper.
Baby screams.
Baby screams relentlessly.
The stench of cheap beer perfumes the stagnant air.
You think to yourself
"Is this it?"
Then you remember
You remember ….
What the hell was her name?
It’s on the tip of your tongue ….
BANG !!!
Tina Smitherson
*Once!
Just once ….*
The one and only time he raised his hand.
She was gone.
Didn’t even look back.
And her so quiet and all ….
Oh ….how we tormented her.
Oh …. how we teased her.
**BOO !!!
BOO !!!
BOO !!!**
Away she ran like a frightened little mouse.
No friends.
No life.
Nothing.
A bona fide geek.
And yet ….
And yet … only once.
How was that possible?
Night turns to day.
You look around the room.
*Chaos.
Filth.
Emptiness.*
Taunt at you manically …. in triplicate.
Baby sleeps peacefully in her makeshift cot.
Bruises red and angry.
*Maybe today ….
Maybe ….*
Then you reach down into your darkest resolve and open the cupboard beneath the sink.
Bin bags.
Detergent.
Dish cloths.
Dustpan and brush.
“I wonder what Tina Smitherson is doing at this precise moment in time?”
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 11:18 PM UTC
Binges, binge this, binge that.
Never tried twack, nor crack,
40+ Unisom Sleep Gels,
Put me in some intense sleep spells.
Tried my first Xan,
ate all 14 blues in my hand.
Still hadn't even had ***
Didn't have a phone to text.
I ate 63 Unisom this time,
but I knew I felt fine.
Walked in the night through my town,
till those Webb City cops had to put me down.
Got a really awesome plug,
taught me how to deal and ****
Tried twak, crack and sold it to my city,
I could get a gram for fifty.
Caught my first DWI,
dude I'm not drunk! but I was high.
I sat in the Jasper County Jail,
read all the bible while I was in my cell.
Got my best friend pregnant,
man life was really pleasant.
4 months my seed dies,
only God could hear my cries.
7 bottles of cough suppressant,
God came to me in my coma segment.
I had no intentions of turning away,
I was living my life day for day.
Shot my first handgun,
I started my life on the run.
I hated the world and I hated myself,
I had everything except for help.
3 hits of acid, 1 bottle of cough syrup, some **** DMT, and Hash.
My 20th birthday had to be a bash.
I saw a dragon hatch from the sky,
I swore we all were gonna die.
I couldn't wait for the world to end,
I had not a single friend everyone was for pretend.
Started going by Okey Dokey,
caused more mischief than Loki!
I wound myself down with a girl,
I thought she was my world.
We thought we were in love,
but we just loved to rub.
Left her after a week of being locked up,
I wanted to be like a lotus that grows from the muck.
I found a relationship with my Lord and Saviour,
I couldn't believe that what he had set for me later!
Turning the age of 22 and confined,
I was started to see becoming less blind.
I was baptized in the jail,
I gave up my feelings to fail!
Now here I am,
becoming a man.
I live in a Church now,
may peace and love be with you, Chow!
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC
I need to be locked up, chained up,
STOPPED.
I'd do it to myself,
If I didn't think I'd find a devious way
to escape
Like chew off my own hand,
Or scream until someone called a locksmith.
Don't do it, for Gods' sake,
Find a way for it not to happen.
Find some ancient mouldy food in the fridge
And chow it down,
Call all your friends,
Find someone in crisis, that needs you by their side.
Turn on all the taps and flood the house,
Get blind drunk.
Feign pregnancy.
Just sit here
And read random poems
Until it's too late
Until it's too late.
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC