Cockily poems on Hello Poetry

Lexander J Dec 2015

Guided by beer light down moonlit streets
pockets stuffed with stale tobacco and receipts,
pariahs of the night, queens of the teen-age
attacking their youth in a drug fuelled rage

shaking their bodies 'neath schizophrenic lights
a typical night filled with hatred and fights,
the bloodlust was fun, a midnight boogie,
danger both caustic and infectiously groovy

girls all wearing dresses too small for their *****
disk jockeys playing electro-pop to please the masses -

#WAM!#

#BAM!#

#OH YEA, OH MAN!!!#

like raving corsairs they arrived; guitars lean, leather jackets sublime

o'behold the rip-roarin' Raven's Clandestine

["People ARE YOU READY?!"]

they played rock that growled in your ears
snazzy lyrics metaphorical tears,
indulging in passion, ***, alcohol and heavy drugs
dismissing dire warnings with cockily executed shrugs

swaggering to blistering tunes in front of the crowds
singing songs '******-*****' and 'Rebel-Tastic' obnoxiously proud,
falling in love on the stage, falling in love in their beds,
adorning their wild hair with tassels and threads

blissfully ignorant they simply didn't care
wanted to do what they want, alas life ain't that fair -

the bassist met a rogue *****, contracted ***

the guitarist lost his sight, carried on playing though he couldn't see,

the drummer lost his cool and battered a fan
found high on *******, for 10 years locked away more than

and the lead singer, with his hip swagger 'n jive,
suffered a massive stroke, upon the stage in a screeching solo he died

[he hides his sinister within songs
died gazing at *******-clad chicks in fluorescent thongs]

promising to be legends they rocked the 1970's ambiguous nation

alas their substance abuse and ****** desires had already cursed them to damnation.

Elizabeth Squires Feb 2018

Karma's Chime

karma is a thing of irony
its wheel can
turn
in the other directions
hour of
burn

be
not
a
fool
be
aware
of
the
change
shown
by
the
spool

the run of the mill team
sought a popularity
tag
and on gaining it were
able to cockily
brag

they'd disposed of
the crowd pleasing
Wolf and Rabbi
this did bring them
a greater share
of the pie

karma will
alter its lot
in the due passage of time
tick tock
tick tock
tick tock
a date marked
with its
paradoxical chime

#karma #irony #wheel #tag #gaining #disposed #due #passage #time

Samantha Pearse Oct 2014

The Nines

There once was a group who were called the Nines,
All short and dressed, presented very fine
In their pristine new uniforms that shone
In the light of their eyes that would be gone.
They were the very youngest of the bunch,
And sat around one another at lunch.
Loud and boisterous they all laughed and yelled
Jumping and running until they quelled
In fear of the fury loosed by the Twelve’s.
Curious and sassy they would evolve
And cockily talk back to the rulers
Of the houses who did not like humor.
Hyped up on sugar they often complained
‘Bout not being tired when bedtime came.
Staying up late on their small glowing screens,
They thought their antics went about unseen.
Excited to be far away from home,
They all hoped freedom would allow to roam
Around the campus whenever they liked.
Little did they know only in the night
They were all tucked away inside their dorms
Expected to complete their list of chores.
There once was a group who were called the Nines,
Who would all rule a future they defined.

Alex Mar 2016

Hearts are fragile

You took my heart
Told me you loved it
Then tore it in two
Right in front of my eyes

Saying that you love me
But you found someone
She means the world to you
And I'm just not good enough

You knew that it would hurt me
And you tore my heart to shreds anyways
But you don't have a heart
So why would you care

I guess I thought you meant it
When you said you loved me
Or when you said you would be here
But I guess you didn't

But in all reality you did
Didn't you?
Pushing me down on that roof
And kissing me cockily, the way you always did

You smiled and we went back in
Claiming onto the yogibo
I cuddled the **** out of you
And today. We'll do it again.

#love #depression #sadness #lust

Stephan Cotton Sep 2016

On Being a Dog

How dare he walk so cockily
and stop to *** upon my tree?
He would not dare
(at least, I think)
erase the smell, the very stink,
so carefully placed right there by me.

A lot of nerve, this flea-bit hound
to trespass on this hallowed ground,
this patch of heaven here on earth,
my stoop, my tree, my sense of worth.

He should know better – I think he should
and if not, I’ll tell him good! --
for there are rules of doginess:
Never bark or make a mess
at home and always do your best
to smile and thank Mom for a bone.

And never *** on a fellow dog’s stoop
(It’s even worse if you ****).
Just walk by and wag your tail. Oh,
and never, EVER, eat the mail!

lauren Aug 2021

last talk

“you’re so beautiful”
he said through his teeth
with his head cocked to the side
like a child after a scolding
nothing he said resonated as true
because he couldn’t choose
he couldn’t choose me

“i don’t feel like it”
i said stone cold sober
with a guarded heart
like an ancient wall about to crumble
but preserved through time
remembering i never deserved to be
someone’s second option
especially after years of always being
the first

“come back to me and you’ll feel like it
everyday”
he cockily pleaded
as if he knew it would be
the last words he said to me
in a long while
or maybe even the last time he said it
at all

i sneered and he threw me over his shoulder
and i laughed and screamed
like an innocent
like the past five years were not just a
memory of us
but
we were always meant for hurt

then he walked out the door for the last time
and i went to sleep
and dreamt of new beginnings
and caressed closure

and i felt beautiful
because i wasn’t chosen

matthew scott harris Apr 2019

My Wife The Paper Shredder

Buried in an avalanche you
might see on "Hoarders buried alive"
back and foreground
white sheet with limited pay per view,
nonetheless sky scraping heap

(Uriah not kid) nsync with a 'U'-
shaped tube anchored securely thru
solid wood - sporting
towering, leaning, bulging, et cetera slew,
sans huge sized mounds,

this goodfella cockily rue
stirs memories while
almond joying sifting,
(comprising ream mains of outdated queue
vee cee paraphernalia, bank statements, old

fair maidens faded letters, phew
against unrequited lovely lasses
kissed by either gentile or Jew
us gal, during young manhood
confession stated, aye did accrue

now (said besmirched Casanova
wannabe across floor I did strew
said, no longer promising princess,
whose once tenderly fresh rose buds
exuded profusely courtesy ingénue

argh..., how frivolous to argue
with cowardly former self, hence
into the maw of das spouse (Sibyl)
she more than enthusiastically
masticates regarding unblossomed

(romantic opportunity) yours truly blew,
when flickr ring spark flame snuffed out
before profound love chanced to hint
of compatibility, ah... nary a blues clue
maybe best not to fantasize

going down nostalgia avenue,
but cast attention upon motley crew,
no matter I traversed
boulevard of broken dreams
(but oh this...pray lemme tell you

more on this cool spring green day)
ornamented with boughs of churrigueresque
mother nature's divinely wrought
sensational beauty procreative forces construe,
yanking fanciful thoughts back to feeding

pulpy material pages of me child's worldview
scribbled squiggly blurred lines
no doubt gifted artistic prodigies shew
did evince talent this papa doth truly value,
yet an excess of near identical curlique

leaves little breathing room, plus report
cards shows innovative smarts,
frequent affirmations this dada paid due
tee, which gushing praise
my girls never taxed for, yet both knew

this aging baby boomer father decries
being swamped with exorbitant clutter
hence effort now made to save whar grew,
some artistic embellishment and/or

intellectual award, the majority hesitantly fed
into jaw of thee missus the human flew
where hard copy quickly incinerated inducing
me to sneeze atchew!

— The End —