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"couped" poems
A white porcelain Porcupine Sits atop The stool Beside a resting Toilet and silent sink Drains are clogged Must be the fog Airing up Inside the room Thick and heavy Full of cream Like a hot French Pastry Soap melts Into a fine cappuccino Skin is soft Not smooth Rugged Tired of the water's touch Lips separated Leaking drool An earlier soft drink Makes its appearance Sake makes my soul Gold and sublime A snowball I received To the face Magical cocktail Island tragedy In Paris Couped up Stuck in a bathroom Head bobbing Up And Down Swaying Side to side Direction unchosen Ears sweetened By a tranquil Heavenly sound A song Heartfelt poem Layne's voice Shouting from the void Guitar strings Beats of a drum Native quotas Unremembered Just peace No hate Possible gain ***** to be given Snowflakes Fall upon my brow Hissing in the heat Chilling a man-made sea Fingers tingle Fabricating a jingle Eyes swell Blochted art on the walls Feet numb Deciding to stick around Like a sore gum Withered with gin My armor Solid arms Continue to fall Down with my divinity I am Lucifer Shining meteor of false hope Chest heaves I begin to grieve Hope for a dawn Pray to hear a new song But here he comes I am bleeding Shaken by the storm Overcome Laughter And crying This means I am dying But, Is the time right?
0
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 11:35 PM UTC
dakotajdawson
17 rue Beautreillis
A white porcelain Porcupine Sits atop The stool Beside a resting Toilet and silent sink Drains are clogged Must be the fog Airing up Inside the room Thick and heavy Full of cream Like a hot French Pastry Soap melts Into a fine cappuccino Skin is soft Not smooth Rugged Tired of the water's touch Lips separated Leaking drool An earlier soft drink Makes its appearance Sake makes my soul Gold and sublime A snowball I received To the face Magical cocktail Island tragedy In Paris Couped up Stuck in a bathroom Head bobbing Up And Down Swaying Side to side Direction unchosen Ears sweetened By a tranquil Heavenly sound A song Heartfelt poem Layne's voice Shouting from the void Guitar strings Beats of a drum Native quotas Unremembered Just peace No hate Possible gain ***** to be given Snowflakes Fall upon my brow Hissing in the heat Chilling a man-made sea Fingers tingle Fabricating a jingle Eyes swell Blochted art on the walls Feet numb Deciding to stick around Like a sore gum Withered with gin My armor Solid arms Continue to fall Down with my divinity I am Lucifer Shining meteor of false hope Chest heaves I begin to grieve Hope for a dawn Pray to hear a new song But here he comes I am bleeding Shaken by the storm Overcome Laughter And crying This means I am dying But, Is the time right?
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86
Learned more from this pain than i ever did from a church. Listening to your gut but make sure you detox it first. **** be killin me softly, leave me in a Hearse, Never a good thing when i hear from you first. Be careful what you see, even salt look like sugar, Maturity is not throwing salt when you know you could've, And not smackin ******* when you know you should've. People Be like "oh i miss you" **** i miss me too. Had to use these teflon tissues to get me thru, You not alone, **** i wanna be with me too, Deadass On some days , smiles were too good to be true. I be business minded when i be minding my business. And ****** be ******* and ******* be on some ***** **** Overcame this novocain, Recasted the impression of depression, Ring around the rosary, Never relying on religion. Im from a home of funny bones And My elbows been ashy, I knew It would take more than macaroni art to kraft me, And i been itching for this platform If you ask me, I used to wonder if i was a real person. I used to wonder like what's my real purpose? When i was young ,I taught my shadow to stick to my toes, When lifes a battle, I fought to stick to mottos. As a poet i never looked at it this way, I never booked myself for this reading. I was overbooked. I bookmarked my favorite moments , I been forever overlooked. And never understood what "more" ment, I been overcooked. The preheating of this season left me bleeding. This farenheit left me heavy breathin No fear of heights but Excuse me while I fall from - grace - me with your presence and These broken promises, Never been transparent to this degree, Had to leave that monster house. That was my American horror story. I used to be couped up, Had to tell double d to get outta my laboratory, See mfs want my jazz but not my blues, They Wanna be in my class but aint payed they dues, Yall be Morally incorrect, ....More or less... Lately i been Moralless, Need to get saved no church bells , Put me on the zach Morris list, These rhymes be like my confessions, Front row seat to my ascension, Carry out this life to which we've been sentenced, Delivery me from evil - with even more incentives, I dream in MLA format. Double spaced a letter to my younger self, Just some **** I wish i told the older me A ***** laundry list of things I thought ought to be owed to me, My OCD be blowin me, Need all my ducks in a row, My prolonged silence been leading this Crescendo, Im not playing NO GAMES, fuxk you and your Nintendo.
0
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 10:00 PM UTC
Legendary_Lox
Disasterpiece
Learned more from this pain than i ever did from a church. Listening to your gut but make sure you detox it first. **** be killin me softly, leave me in a Hearse, Never a good thing when i hear from you first. Be careful what you see, even salt look like sugar, Maturity is not throwing salt when you know you could've, And not smackin ******* when you know you should've. People Be like "oh i miss you" **** i miss me too. Had to use these teflon tissues to get me thru, You not alone, **** i wanna be with me too, Deadass On some days , smiles were too good to be true. I be business minded when i be minding my business. And ****** be ******* and ******* be on some ***** **** Overcame this novocain, Recasted the impression of depression, Ring around the rosary, Never relying on religion. Im from a home of funny bones And My elbows been ashy, I knew It would take more than macaroni art to kraft me, And i been itching for this platform If you ask me, I used to wonder if i was a real person. I used to wonder like what's my real purpose? When i was young ,I taught my shadow to stick to my toes, When lifes a battle, I fought to stick to mottos. As a poet i never looked at it this way, I never booked myself for this reading. I was overbooked. I bookmarked my favorite moments , I been forever overlooked. And never understood what "more" ment, I been overcooked. The preheating of this season left me bleeding. This farenheit left me heavy breathin No fear of heights but Excuse me while I fall from - grace - me with your presence and These broken promises, Never been transparent to this degree, Had to leave that monster house. That was my American horror story. I used to be couped up, Had to tell double d to get outta my laboratory, See mfs want my jazz but not my blues, They Wanna be in my class but aint payed they dues, Yall be Morally incorrect, ....More or less... Lately i been Moralless, Need to get saved no church bells , Put me on the zach Morris list, These rhymes be like my confessions, Front row seat to my ascension, Carry out this life to which we've been sentenced, Delivery me from evil - with even more incentives, I dream in MLA format. Double spaced a letter to my younger self, Just some **** I wish i told the older me A ***** laundry list of things I thought ought to be owed to me, My OCD be blowin me, Need all my ducks in a row, My prolonged silence been leading this Crescendo, Im not playing NO GAMES, fuxk you and your Nintendo.
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65
My face has left With the sun, Leaving the moon in my chest To rot with the Dark in the rain. A sickness has stricken me, My body upside down. A breathless existence Couped into a rain cloud.
0
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 5:23 PM UTC
jord
Upside-Down Raincloud
My face has left With the sun, Leaving the moon in my chest To rot with the Dark in the rain. A sickness has stricken me, My body upside down. A breathless existence Couped into a rain cloud.
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9
It is an era that need be forgotten, yet not be forgotten Isolated by the rest of humanity for forsaking humanity, The lives of no mere mortals were sacrificed on the promise of freedom, While in some town couped up by hate, anger and despair Families were left an unsolvable puzzle, in infinite pieces It was an era that they told us was over, And yet in a trench somewhere near the tip of a continent Men whose bodies are covered by a dark pigment no different from mine, Different to that of the man commanding them to dig deeper, Whose behaviour and attitude seems no different to that of his father, And his father, and his father’s father, and their forefathers On whose behest a mark on a people was heavily branded A sense of nostalgia overwhelms my body And so while I walk past these men working in the trenches I look upon them with a face contorted by disgust Not toward them nor the pale skinned man who dictates their every movement It is towards those of the same pigment as the men in these very trenches Whose stomachs have been fattened by the labour of these very men Whose every lie they have forced them to believe With the talk of an era that still instills fear and instigates hate Misdirected towards still figures who have as much life in them as the men they honour It is an era that is still not yet over
0
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 2:08 PM UTC
sean-gj-cullery
Not yet over
It is an era that need be forgotten, yet not be forgotten Isolated by the rest of humanity for forsaking humanity, The lives of no mere mortals were sacrificed on the promise of freedom, While in some town couped up by hate, anger and despair Families were left an unsolvable puzzle, in infinite pieces It was an era that they told us was over, And yet in a trench somewhere near the tip of a continent Men whose bodies are covered by a dark pigment no different from mine, Different to that of the man commanding them to dig deeper, Whose behaviour and attitude seems no different to that of his father, And his father, and his father’s father, and their forefathers On whose behest a mark on a people was heavily branded A sense of nostalgia overwhelms my body And so while I walk past these men working in the trenches I look upon them with a face contorted by disgust Not toward them nor the pale skinned man who dictates their every movement It is towards those of the same pigment as the men in these very trenches Whose stomachs have been fattened by the labour of these very men Whose every lie they have forced them to believe With the talk of an era that still instills fear and instigates hate Misdirected towards still figures who have as much life in them as the men they honour It is an era that is still not yet over
Continue reading...
22