"cleary" poems
Their mouth NEVER ******* seems to shut up & just stop
& **** snitches don't hesitate to quickly name drop
Twisting everything they'll hear
Creating lies & rumors like it is their career!
SO WATCH YOUR BACK, they are only a pretend friend
They're scary & **** identical when they're an impersonator
Nice & kind so they seem, turn away they'll be a backstabbing hater
NOBODY has time for all that ridiculous nonsense
Just attention seekers, without their usually faithful but now gone audience
Desperately trying to remain in the center of attention, cleary blind to the EXTREME obvious!
You never really deserved to ever be forgiven
I'm done wasting my time & voice on someone who will NEVER listen
Ohhh yah a FYI, a friendship isn't a competition
But more like a dynamic duo always down for a random mission!
Oh well, no coming back now I'm not changing my decision!
Deuces!
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC
I can see cleary the scene where we first met
I feel the warmth of your smile
I hear the glee in your voice
I am entangled in the thought of you
And when I saw you walk towards me
I felt as if the heavens blessed me with an angel
And When I saw you walk past me, I knew I was only in your path.
I am entangled in the thought of you, and why I am unwanted.
I hear the silence in your void, your words are never for me.
I feel the darkeness settle over me again, where it always is.
I can see clearly the scene where we last met.
Discarded. Forgotten. Unwelcome. Me.
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 4:17 PM UTC
Peace on your head,
Brother
I Love you.
We Love you.
PEACE
YOU HEARD WHAT I SAID.
WITHOUT HIM I WOULD BE DEAD
nah
No im not deaf
Place treble cleff
Im not the best but one day I hope to be the best that I can be. That we can be, be free. NO SEE we are one and of one blood you YOU HERE ME SON said we are one we ONE STAR the son we need the blood I see the son BLINDING EYES im fighting lies
inside my mind i hide the blind. Like playing poker but the river is only mine imtryin to find;
A doubtfull shadow in a drought over overexposure in a year boutes
ROUND 1
HERE ME CLEARY MY SON
ears and eyes can be numb
Steady ******* my thumb
Heres the truck and it runs
Spill my ill from this quill bleed a vision
Instill?
Piledrive at the mill
Robots is Optomis drilled
Pills and pharmacists ****
Im just a kid when it comes to this
But poetry is this is
Hope you dont miss this
TWIST IT UP IF YOU WANT
To do it thru it we **** hate
And Love is my median
No not a comedian
Just meditate
I see a dream and it's color blind
I said the gun is thiers and im right
We SOLD YOU RIGHT!?
IM COLD AS ICE.
but hold it tight.
I speak too boldy right.
Seams white is not the light?
Mold me and soul the frieght
GHOST IS A SOLDIER NIGHT
hahha ^-^
hahha love ya Brother
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 3:09 AM UTC
Looking upon Lake St. Clair
I saw it lying there today
In its watery grave
A large and lovely monarch butterfly
Its gossamer wings outstetched
As if it had gallently fought its death
And was determined to fly
Ascend to the air
To its temporary abode
Inbetween earth and sky
As far as its wings would take it
But it sadly did not succeed
On the one side, it was facing the lake
On the flipside, the open sky
I almost couldn't recognize it
As if it was a piece of junk floating along
But I eventually saw it cleary
This exquisite creature of noble name
And now I say that
Even this winged, airborne creature
Is bound to this earth
Like the rest of us
Who have not the gift of wings
And death is not just for suckers
The unfortunate who cannot hack it
For gravity must triumph in the end
And there is never a day
In which there ceases to be any death
Upon this mortal world
Many of us want to ward off its coming
As we bide our time
And try to outrun the inevitable
Hoping to outsmart the clock
Yet we are all creatures of this earth
Just as was this beautiful butterfly
Born to inhabitant this world
But never designed to stay
This isn't poetic license
In order to construct a clever poem
It truly happened to me
Making me stop and think
Out from a day in the ordinary
To ponder upon the brevity of life
With the instant reminder that
All magnificent things must die
Aug 25, 2012
Aug 25, 2012 at 10:49 PM UTC
there was a little water vole he had a big mishap
while walking down the riverbank he fell into a trap
a little metal cage that someone had set
hoping in his trap a watervole would get
he was trapped in side and began to cry
he was very sad he didnt want to die
suddenly a badger saw him in distress
and could see the vole was cleary in a mess
badger he was strong and he began to gnaw
chewing at the cage and opened up the door
the little vole got out badger saved the day
vole he thanked the badger as he swam away
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 11:12 AM UTC
Salem, O Salem what were you about?
It all started in 1692
It was dark, it was cold, a bit of snow still on the ground
People arrested for witchcraft and some sentenced to death
19 people that year took their final breath
People were drowned or killed with fire
some people even hung with rope or wire
Witch trials didn't just happen in Salem
They happened all over the world
The first is believed to be a woman named Angele Babin for *** with the devil
And the last Bridget Cleary whose crime was unclear
I wonder how many of these people confessed in fear
We are monsters of our own making
we cause fear and we ****
Those that do no longer do it for protection
they do it for the thrill
But their is no thrill in taking a life
there was wasn't then and there isn't now
how could you take a life, that is my question. HOW
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 6:11 AM UTC
She belonged to him, no other man,
So he said to her each day she left.
To sell the eggs and the dress she made,
To pull them from the line of the poor.
On the way to town each day she passed,
The rings of County Tipperary.
The ancient rings that live the wee folk,
Who dance in moonlight and trick us all.
That day she waited to see her kin,
But she left no gift to please the old.
So home she came with arms still heavy,
and a chest that weighed a cough so foul.
“My Bridget” as he knelt by her bed,
Holding her hand as it shook with cold.
In the crack of the flame voices he heard
To hang him from his grief with despair.
The news he heard was of his father
Whom died the evening he felt alone.
Mr Cleary swore and slammed his fist.
“Midnight tonight or Bridget is lost!”
The men in village knew the tale,
Of the wee folk who cursed Bridget.
The woman in the Cleary home bed,
Was an echo of the wife he loved.
They held her down and asked her, her name,
She screamed and growled but did not reply,
Three times they asked and still she refused.
So tight the grips they beat her to sleep.
The morning arrived, Bridget awoke,
To her husband who looked upon her.
His eyes full of loss and fear as-well,
“my Bridget?” he asked “are they gone now?”
She smiled and agreed, she was alone,
So the priest came to deliver mass.
Mr Cleary agreed and drank from the cup
But he knew that his wife was not home.
He asked her again, three more times; “Speak,
Your name to me now, are you my wife?”
Each time she replied “It is I, Yes.”
Michael still knew his wife was away.
That evening men from the town arrived
And took Bridget deep into the bog,
Where they bound her and lay her down flat,
As she screamed for her husband to help.
“It is I, It is me, Your sweet wife,
Believe me my husband I am here,
No faerie has seized my soul from me,
No witch has uttered a devil curse.”
Her mouth was covered and bound so tight
Her screams were made only with her eyes.
In front of the men, Michael asked her.
“Are you my wife? My Bridget Cleary?”
No voice or reply came from the girl.
Her body lay still in the bog land.
So onto a bed of wood she was placed,
And burned in the cold evening moon light.
The story was told through the village,
That Bridget had fled with another,
A man who bought all her eggs each week,
But not everyone believed this tale.
The priest of the village found Michael,
Praying blood, sweat and tears in the church.
He told him the fairies had taken,
The changeling they had placed there before.
The priest told the men of the Garda
That ****** was rife in this village.
That men had taken a sick women
And burned her to death in the bog land.
Michael was guilty of Manslaughter
No conviction of ****** was passed
For the people believed his story,
The woman who burned was not his wife
To this day the rings of Tipperary
Still grow foxglove and weeds in the cracks,
The Faerie mounds are feared like darkness
And steered clear of, by those who live near.
Even now it is heard in the school,
By the children who skip on the rope.
“Are you a witch, or are you a fairy,
Or are you the wife of Michael Cleary?”
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 4:19 PM UTC
Come away O human child
to the waters and the wild
with a faerie hand in hand
for the world's more full of weeping
*than you can understand.
Bridget,
Your pretty face,
was all they found in the peat
with the hoarfrost over your mouth
and your burnt skin curled in ribbons.
This, and your black stockings
he couldn't bear to remove.
Bridget,
Did you see the wildness in his eyes
that night he brought the priest
for last rites?
Did his hands shake
as he mixed the herbs with *****
and threw them in your face,
telling you to come home?
Bridget,
was he jealous of the sixpence in your apron pocket
the pieces of you he could never own
and the independent streak
that ran through your sensuous hair.
The hot iron at your throat
the only jewel he cared to hold there,
the slow smoke rising like a chain
'round your neck.
Bridget,
did you stare at the frightening faerie child,
his changeling wings beating above you
as he called you by his own name.
Did you scold him in the name of his aos si mother
to watch his strange eyes flare
as you choked on the dry bread
he'd jammed down your throat.
You were never his Bridget
you were your own.
Bridget,
You were never the last witch.
We are still hunted
across deserts and into alleys
acid and fists destroy the magic
of our bewitching eyes.
Angry, they reach for the pieces of us they can never own
and burn our hearts on hearths
across continents.
The smoke rising from so many fires,
unnoticed.
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 9:44 PM UTC
there was a little water vole he had a big mishap
while walking down the riverbank he fell into a trap.
a little metal cage that was laid and set
hoping in his trap a watervole would get.
he was trapped in side and began to cry
he was very sad he didnt want to die.
suddenly a badger saw him in distress
and could see the vole was cleary in a mess.
badger he was strong and he began to gnaw
chewing at the cage and opened up the door.
the little vole got out badger saved the day
vole he thanked the badger as he swam away.
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 9:35 AM UTC
The days blur from one shade of gray to another
haphhazard heart only beats when the possibility of entering your atmosphere nears,
and even then, reality is quick to set in.
abandoned left to my own devices in matters concerning love
how easy it would be,
if it could leave you and nestle back into my heart again
ready to flutter off and settle on some other worthy occupation
bursting with colours like your eyes rivers of warmth like your smile
you walk through me as if I didn't exist
you build walls as you walk creating a maze around you
and yet, memories must linger, sparking as you catch them in my eyes and smile into my soul, another torturous moment,
Perhaps, on purpose to check in with your prisoner.
Cleary, I have nothing but trophy status gathering dust.
An urn with the ashes of our love smoldering with no air
I wait for the last ember to burn off white
but that's the miracle of love,
it exists on nothing at all
and still stupidly, I design our reunion with not even a hope at all
and nothing to gain, except living once again, lost in your eyes,
for a lighter shade of gray.
Author's Notes/Comments:
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 5:28 PM UTC
I look into the blackness speckles,
Glint upon the darkness
Fingers upon each
An arch, I release my tiniest of digits
Cleary,
Glanced,
Moments
Moving within my circled view
So much antique fragments
Of incandescent moments
I was peering in to
Radiance,
Obscurity,
Eternity
Within this short slice
"A point of time"
What was it, what was I,
It was a glance within
I had blinked for eternity,
And I have seen the universe
That resides within my sight.
"We are a universe"
With each movement time moves,
But even though past, it is still there,
For within each blink, a part of the universe
Is reflected, for us to glance upon and into.
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 8:39 AM UTC
Oh How I loveth thee
A quite quaint angel in my own eyes.
With dark and white broken wings.
Und'r ****** falls.
I shall waiteth, and comf'rt thee.
Liekth thee loveth thy beareth.
Until the endeth of p'riod.
A hoarse voice with angelic tone.
Haer like the colours of my chameleon.
The tend tender lips of loveth.
A smileth and mind of ambivalence.
I shall loveth with nay judgment.
A halo as bright as the mistress
Possesseth in humans death's-head.
The lukewarm blue chopt lips.
The sleep chamber the lady did lie upon.
H'r ilness, but I accepteth death.
I can kisseth with green valor breath.
The strength of a giant.
The nimbleness of a lilliputian fairy.
Thee can doth aught.
Yon can crustheth and slipeth.
Through the cracks of timeth.
Thee can beest fell'r joyous.
Liketh the visage of a monst'r
I loveth thee f'r who is't thou art.
Thee can beest the wild animal with scars.
mine own canine ears ope to hark.
Thee can has't warts liketh a toad.
A belly as big as the univ'rse.
I shalt beest a fath'r.
thee can has't barb'd wire on thy corse.
My chivalrous armour does not mind thy pain.
Thee believeth chivalry is gone.
Somewh're on the planet, 'r in the heavens above.
Sickl'd by the grim reap'rs ploy.
The apparition 'r man you love.
I'm the pap'r thee loveth at which hour thy depress'd
The smileth thee misseth.
I am thy sir'r knave at heart.
I'm the knight thee wanteth me to best.
The lasteth sir standing at the edge of the w'rld with thee.
Thy the only ***** I protecteth, and loveth f'rev'r.
I give you can seeth how I loveth thee.
This poem was written by Shane Michael Cleary at 12:42 2017 on June 30th.
Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 2:35 PM UTC
Replaying what their saying praying they bring light to this white uptight insightful wannabe rapper
Cracking the code attacking the slackers taking wack swings trying to use the Clapper dressed dapper
Like Versace shoestrings singing like ODB making sure my breaths clean, it’s my upbringing two parent
Household got no gold but I make you mind blown rocking rhymes about frog and toad I’m road worn
And born weary love oregon’s rain, dreary love to read Beverly Cleary like Ramona wasn’t cheerleading
A future bare back ******* posing as a children’s reader more like a chicken head feeder yet sweeter
Cold toes in the morning gotta find a slipper pull up my cargo pants, can’t find the zipper feeling like
Jack Tripper …. its slipperier the slope to attacking Iraq with most black troops a whole new set of roots
The truth is uncouth like jerking off in a telephone booth *** shooting on yellow pages gobs coating
Everyones names strangers in cages with rage faces and misplaced hate…fucking ingrates –
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 4:06 PM UTC
"When we listen to whats right we're able to bring out the light in our lives, and whoever the person is we should listen to what they think.You give them a chance to climb the ladder to flip our switch.The brains power can stay on for good, or run out of power on the hour.There is nothing wrong about having inadequate knowledge and wisdom.In my opinion, knowledge and wisdom have no limit on the gauge, so we try to pacify and assuage a persons mind at any age.We perceive life, love, and knowledge as a learning curve.In my heart and mind;I believe we're all on the same team, but we all have a different style of playing and learning.We're out to win even if we sin, and I believe we have the generosity to recompense the women and men for their punctual attendance.We can do it through an arduous task by trial, we eventually have our name put on file.We are the unknown out there in the world with different faces, and different clothes ,but that is okay because we're all going to learn something different.We must always remember our friends, and family, and God knows, what we do from age one to ninety-three.We will learn knowledge and wisdom from age three, and through University.We will put everything we've learned into a blender, day after day so we always remember.Will begin to drink and think back even when we one-hundred years old.We begin to look back at what we ingested and digested, what w'eve invested.We take our proverbial smart pills at eleven O'clock.The days, months, and years have passed us by, and now we sit here like a proverbial cumbersome rock.All our knowledge and wisdom we have learned in our brains made us sane and insane had burned our life into ashes.We know everything we learned and earned throughout our lives is cremated by an unknown entity.The fame will burn in the flame with thee, you did the best you could since you we're three."
Written by Shane Micheal Cleary.
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 11:00 PM UTC
Wanting you dearly
Needing you cleary
Severely in love
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 9:48 AM UTC
I laid down
He laid next to me.
My face was in the pillow but I knew he was facing me.
I told him he was stupid
He told me I was more stupid
We battled like this
With raspy voices
Windpipes drenched in alcohol
The lingering aftermath of **** in his lungs
I could hear it in his voice.
That rasp was the most beautiful sound to me
In that moment and in every dream I've ever had of that moment.
I just never thought it would be him.
Our battle drifted off as he fell asleep
His last words were uttered in a raspy daze
"You're an idiot..."
And with that he put his arm around me, resting his hand on my arm.
I felt warm
Cradled in the most complicated and innocent moment I've ever experienced.
I didn't fall asleep that night
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC
The words slide through me.
Disconnected lacking comprehension
Old times rush forward, focused
Shattering into mirrors of memories
Disbelief overwhelms me.
Questioning my every action
Tears stream down my face.
Every moment holding more weight.
We are fragile,
The world dies around us.
We fade into a foolish fantasy
Until the crippling pain of lose
Comes crashing home.
R.I.P. PJ Cleary
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 1:59 PM UTC
Go the mighty panthers
You are the best in Sydney
You beat south Sydney Rabbitohs
By 14 - 12
It was a top top match mate
I will celebrate every day
Congratulate Nathan cleary
For being the best on ground
Go the mighty panthers
Won the comp in 21
We really pushed and pushed and pushed
2 tries each mate
Panthers won in scoring more goals
We will get some champagne yeah
Everyone was happy
From the ground to mt druit
Partying all over
The road having fun
It was a shame last year
When the storm fucken beat em
But we had our second chance this year
And we won
Go the mighty panthers
We won we won we won
Everyone is partying
With goggles on eyes to stop the beer
Kickass mighty panthers
It was a great match
Go the mighty panthers
All the way
Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 8:24 AM UTC
It’s Pretty Clear That I’m LETHAL... !!!
When It Comes To My CEREBRAL.... !!!
And How Its Applied...
When I’m Now Inclined...
To Sit Down And Write...
Rhymes Built For The WISE... !!!
My Cerebral... FLIES...
And Reaches Great Heights...
WITHOUT The Need...
For ******* Supplies... !!!
I Deal With The Green...
That's Grown NATURALLY... !?!
That Supplies Me With HIGHS...
That Then HEIGHTEN My Mind...
... Know What I Mean... ?!?
It Then... INSPIRES Me...
To Be Expressive On Themes...
That Poetically Deal...
With Our REALITY... !!!!!!!
So Indeed My Cerebral...
Flies High Like An Eagle... !!!
So Thats Right CLEARY Sees...
What We Call FALLACIES... !!!
Because of Glands PINEAL...
That See Right Through...
The Eye of A... NEEDLE... !!!
So That’s Right My Cerebral...
Is FAR From........ Feeble... !!!!!
REFUSES EVIL...
And IGNORANT People... !!!
It’s Looking For Partners...
Like Those From Wakanda’...
With Names Like T’Challa...
Panthers Much SMARTER...
Than CERTAIN Forefathers...
Who Dealt With Slave Masters...
And Made Black Lives HARDER...
Than ANY White Charter...
Could Ever NOW DO...
And That Is THE TRUTH... !!!
If You Don’t Believe Me...
Check The History...
of The FIRST African Dude...
To Learn In ETON School... !!!
See My Cerebral Goes Farther...
Than... Marathon Markers...
It Goes WAY BEYOND Miles... !!!
And Rappers Whose Styles...
Profile What Is WILD... !!!
Because of Weak Minds...
That Are FAR From Refined...
And What Some Call... WISE...
These Days I Now Find...
My Cerebral’s Inclined...
To Give Berths...... EXTRA WIDE... !!!
To The The Type of Black Guys...
Who Are TOO FULL of PRIDE And Attitudes Like...
Supremacist Types Whose Skin Tone Is Light... !!!
That’s Right I Mean... WHITE... !!!
Because... Only A SUCKER... !!!
BelIeves That EVERY Brother...
SEES THEM As THEIR Brother... ?!?
And Those Words APPLY...
To ALL Creeds And Colours...
Within... Human Kind... !!!
It’s FOOLISH To THINK...
That You Know EVERYTHING... !?!
But EVEN MORE Foolish...
To Let Your Mind SINK...
Into... DAMAGING Links...
Because They DON’T Think...
In The Way That YOU Think... ?!?
ESPECIALLY IF... !!!
The Way That YOU Think...
And INDEED How You Live...
DEFINES Words Like THIS...
That’s Right HYPOCRITE... !!!
It’s Lyrics Like THIS...
That Prove That My Skin...
Is NOT What Defines...
The Depth of My Mind...
Because Like E Said...
The Rhymes That I Kick...
Come From MY CEREBELLUM... !!!
So Are Balanced And Levelled...
That’s Right... Like My Head...
And... Are Indeed LETHAL... !!!
Because They’re NOT Feeble... !!!
ILLEGAL... Deceitful...
Or Infected By EVIL...
Because They Are.....
........ “ CEREBRAL “........ !!!
Sep 25, 2020
Sep 25, 2020 at 2:35 AM UTC
I am in sorrow
In the middle of grieving
The tears are constanly flowing
My heart is sinking
My brain lost its function
Internal organs? I cleary lost thought
How can this be?
Why didn't you choose me?
I'm losing the will to live
It's better to die
You are mt oxygen, my soul
It's better to die if you decline me
Too afraid to admit
I am a coward and this is cowardice
Became a prisoner of overthinking
Trying to escape this cell that i've lived in
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 2:07 PM UTC
cleary here isn't where i wanna be
let's fast forward time
so that i could have more of an idea
of what i'm supposed to accomplish
who i'm supposed to meet
what i need to go through
to truly reap what i sow
grab my shoulders and shake
maybe that'll help for the time being
but i guess for now
i'll feel the entropy violently increase
as each minute goes by
Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 5:12 AM UTC