Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
jay Sep 2019
roses are red
my name is not dave
this makes no sense.
microwave.
Classy J Nov 2018
Intro: You know, I don’t care what you’re saying about me.
For I’m not an insecure ***** like you but I do got to thank thee.
For if it weren’t for thy vile venom spitting I wouldn’t have a reason to enact my lyrical terrorism!
So, you only have yourself to blame for this ****, so don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

Verse 1
Uh, yeah let’s talk about it!
Can’t contemplate, the vicious state that contrary to popular belief I’m not a basket case!
Can’t misuse the time I got so here I go to vanquish these fraudulent thots!
Started an unfocused freight train that charged towards the lucid dream because I couldn’t assimilate!
In that time, I was so focused on changing everyone’s snot ridden hypocrisy about reality being Camelot.
I know I’ve also ****** up a lot but that’s something I had to face!
It’s not any of your business so stop ripping off my skin then rubbing in the salt!
I still have a goal in mind to destroy discrimination that incriminates my people,
by putting em on the hot seat.
So now that every one is up in arms I got my chance to aim at the sweet spot!
Everyone is hungry to be the fittest but not everyone has time to think how to be the smartest.
To strike will the fire’s hot or wait for the embers to spark and settle is the true test for an artist.
Who cares about the lines when it was never rightfully drawn in the first place?
Who cares about what spot or space is for you when it’s all been delegated to the privilege of a certain race?
I can only undergo so much disgrace So, sorry but I’m not willing to have my people’s history erased!
Free speech is going to be a ***** for some and a tool for others, I guess it all depends on that person’s poker face.
Inequality is frequent not just in Canada or The United States but every country, province, and common place.

Verse 2
You want the real, raw, unfiltered Classy J well here you go!
Uh, Tell Trudeau to kiss my *** and stop ******* Trump’s ****!
While you’re at it can you tell your father that he’s a ******* stupid *****!
Also, totally forgot but can you tell Kim Jon un when he’s shafting you that he’s a ******* Buffoon!
But’s that’s enough about ******* politics let’s talk about ******* rap artist’s who think they’re hot but really, they so tacky and obsolete like the Zune.
To mister bi-racial we get it you’re into being superficial but’s honestly with you being so focused on being a ****** your delivery showcases the truth that you’re really a cringy ******.
Just face the fact dude that people will only see ya as a juggaloed Dolph Ziggler.
Uh, Now on to the next!
Dear mister Young moolah imma be front, you look like diseased uvula with the lyrical skill comparative to that of an elementary grade schooler.
Now to address the biggest flacky ***** in the game the not so slim shady.  
Here’s the matter Mr. Mather’s you look like a hobo who ***** guys off around the corner,
maybe that’s why you always diss homos.
Because youse a **** trapped in your mommas’ closet,
and if wasn’t for Dre’s hand up so far up your *** you wouldn’t be as popular of a puppet.
Oh ****, Shady you so focused on Doctor Dre and acclaim to fame that you forgot about Hallie.
****, and speaking of Hallie, I feel for you girl because just like you I also didn’t have a dad there for me.
I’m a man of war so every rapper got to get their **** together and better be prepared to me seriously.
For Imma slit their throats and turn em inside out rigorously, and I make sure those tardy cats will rule the day they ever had curiosity.

Verse 3
Just remember my people were here before you, and will be here after you!
And I’ll be here to destroy any of you who dare to pursue native issues!
Or if I’m just bored and feeling like killing you!
However, if I forget about dealing with you, I’m just to busy to properly give a **** about you!
It’s not just revenge, I see it as using justice by retorting with my wordplay to cleanse ya like shampoo!
But I’ve spent enough time dissing freeloaders, for it gives their ego’s too must **** exposure!
I won’t coaster to these composers, for a chauffeur can’t gain an advantage over a soldier!
I wont lower myself to these grouchy Oscar’s, who hunt for Grammy’s;
or as I refer to these events as pedantic half ***’d statements for excepting grandiose toasters.
Why bother, for it’s so annoyingly stupid that I would rather waste my time watching a movie featuring Adam *******.
So, **** this glass ceiling that defines and dictates what makes up a talented rapper.
I may not be a ******* goat but at least I’m confident enough to go out in my birthday suit and retain my composure for being dapper.
That’s the synopsis of my classy brain, and though it may be insane I’m willing to ride this hurricane!
To make sure you know my name, but yet not let myself get engulfed in the flames.
Owen Hayes Jun 2019
If the world turns grey
There we would be
Side by side
Shoulder to shoulder

I don't need popularity
As long as I have you
And you have me
Like a cringy Disney channel theme

I hope we know each other forever
So long that we share cakes and scones
As well as aches In  our bones
I don't want to ever lose what we have

You make me want to write cringy poems
You make me who I am
To my best friend...
I just want to say...
No! Your mum the big gay.
Share this with you best let them how much they mean to you
cartel Sep 2015
Never enter the pool by the stairs
2. Don’t ever dumb it down
3. Talk to seniors
4. Don’t pose with alcohol
5. Don’t pose with drugs
6. Don’t pose with *******
7. Don’t make out with ******* on video
8. Don’t make out with anyone on video
9. Eat your vegetables
10. If you can drink your vegetables
11. Don’t ever smoke
12. Read a lot
13. Carry your mom’s groceries (she carried you for 9 months)
14. Know at least 1 good joke
15. Surround yourself with smart people with ambitions in life
16. Don’t wander around with people who don’t know what they’re doing
17. Brush your teeth 3 times a day
18. Read a lot
19. One day learn to dance to cringy *** songs because it’s better than awkwardly sitting on the side by yourself
20. Don’t dress slutty (be as slutty as you want but don’t act it)
21. Be elitist
22. Don’t litter
23. Learn your national anthem
24. Always buy the railway stations in monopoly
25. Try and eat dinner on the table
26. Consent is cool
27. Don’t talk in movies
28. Don’t call people between 11pm-11am
29. Always open the card first
30. Never save the wrapping paper
31. If your wrong mid argument chance your name and move cities
32. Talk to your grandparents more
33. Thank the bus driver
34. Tip the pizza guy
35. Buy a silk robe to sleep in
36. Don’t lie to your doctor
37. Be proud of your music taste
38. Don’t gate crash parties pls
39. Educate ignorant people
40. Look hot for yourself
41. Hookup with people who genuinely give a **** about you
42. Its ok to show up to parties by yourself
43. Watch every good detective movies from 1987
44. Learn to have fun without alcohol
45. Once again cigarettes aren’t cool
46. Don’t sneak onto public transport – buy a ******* nol card
47. Don’t take life too seriously
poem in its loosest form. its important none the less so thought i would share
Anais Vionet Sep 2022
It’s Sunday morning. It’s bright and cool, the sort of fall morning that makes the world’s problems seem like fake news. Peter and I are at the Marriott Courtyard, off campus. This morning’s breakfast is Peter’s 19th birthday present to me.

I’m redorkulously happy and surprisingly hungry. Somewhere, in the noisy, happy sounding kitchen, there's a bacon, cheddar-cheese, tomato, ham, green-pepper, and spinach omelette being convoked in my name, and my tummy is growling in anticipation.

Our waiter brought us large white mugs of nutmeg coffee - God bless her for that. Sipping it, I scanned the dining room, where carefree, normal people were enjoying their brunches. They didn’t look like they had hours of reading and problem-sets (homework) waiting for them later - but who knows?

Peter leaned forward, smiling, to refill my mug and then, when adding some cream, he almost overfilled it. I couldn’t help chuckling. I enjoy this awkward man’s company beyond all sanity, to the point that it’s a little cringy and embarrassing. Our smiles seemed to clang together, like symbols. I wish I could bask in the warmth of that smile all day.

“You could do me a favor,” I say shyly, “a little extra present?” I said, trying to look pitiable.
“What?” he asks, with a skeptical look. I open my bag and pull out my latest physics PSET (a homework problem set).
“This problem haunted me in my dreams last night,” I say, smoothing out the wrinkled paper and rotating it so it was right-side-up for him. “#6,” I said, confirming that with a pointing finger.

He glances at it. “Ahh, classical mechanics?” he guessed. “Right,” I confirmed.
He looks up at me through his bushy, blue-black eyebrows, “You took AP physics one in high school and physics 2 last year?” He asked. “Yeah,” I confirmed, “but this problem is throwing me.”

“Well,” he says, motioning me to hand him my pen, “you’re perspicacious all right, but you’re basically a biology major,” he begins, “a set of studies that involve a memorization mentality. For physics one and two, I bet you memorized Maxwell's laws, the Kinematic equations and the table of equation cases, ya?”
I nodded yes.

“Unfortunately, that’s not going to cut it here,” he says, shaking his head, “All of those nice simplifications aren’t in play here - there are no cases to rely on - it’s derive as you go.” As he explained this he was briskly scribbling something on a paper napkin and the answer was there, on that, a second later, when he rotated the paper back to me.

His eyes are a dark, gingerbread brown, but despite that darkness, they seemed warm and lit from within. A swoop of his dark blue-black hair has fallen across his forehead, I leaned over the small table to tuck it back into place. “Thank you,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief, “did you show your work?” I asked as I folded the paper and napkin away.
“Of course,” he says, amused, “but we’ll review it later,” he assured me.

“Happy birthday ME!” I said, in a whispered cheer.
“Yes,” he grinned, “Happy Birthday, YOU,” he pronounced as our omelettes arrived
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Perspicacious: “the keen ability to understand difficult or amorphous things.”

Redorkulously = so ridiculous it’s dorky
Lloyd Aug 2018
It was probably that smile that caught me,
And your bubbly personality,
It was just the perfect mixture,
And that’s why I fell, I’m sure,

But you weren’t someone that moves gracefully,
Everyone actually considers you downright clumsy,
Reaching class late, still having a smile on your face,
Just entering and any existing shame, I see no trace

I could write something that overpraises you,
Like comparing you to the radiant Sun and how I think it’s true,
Or a flower in some garden, where you shine the brightest,
Very cringy stuff are what I often write, cheesy at best,

Excuse me for being the creepy type of man,
You probably won’t like this, since poems and other stuff you’re not much of a fan,
Often making this poems for you is hard, although I like It,
Understand I’m trying to remove how I feel, but constantly failing to do it,

And even when I fail, know I’m trying my best to,
Not to completely and irrationally fall for you,
Despite that sudden burst of happiness being the reason I feel the way I do,
Somehow I will try slowly becoming distant from you

Okay, finally going back to what I was saying,
Recently though I was just trying to figure out something,
Reasons to why you really look bright through my eye,
Yet I still can’t think of proper answer no matter how hard I try,

To be completely true it’s just how you are overall,
Honestly I think everything about you is what made me fall,
And now I think I’m at the height of what I’m feeling,
Now I’m probably close to its ceiling,

Keeping up with the status quo is the only thing I can do,
You probably will become a distant memory after college is through,
Or someone I can still casually see every once in a blue moon,
Unless I do something about how I feel, I think I should say goodbye soon,

Getting to know someone like you who can face life with a smile so bright,
Oh how great it is that you can still shine in life’s uphill fight,
Over that smile though is still someone that feels depression,
Despite how bright you smile, I think you still feel this crippling sensation,

Because everyone of us is victim to failure’s hold,
Yet I still believe despite the ton of pressure you experience you wouldn’t fold,
Even if the wind feels a little colder, and you feel breathing the air is becoming harder,
I know you won’t suffocate under the stress, you’ll probably even become better,

This poem is getting a bit long so I’ll wrap this up quick,
I have no idea if you have some kind of trick,
That you can just glow like the way you do,
Again it’s cheesy but I wholeheartedly believe it is true,


You may not feel even the slightest of how I feel for you,
And you probably be even annoyed about the things I do,
But for you to change is something I don’t wish,
The imperfect you is the prefect you as crazy as the sound of it is,
jay Sep 2019
if it can fly then it should die
the second cringy poem
jay Sep 2019
roses are red
i have a phone
nobody texts me
im forever alone
the first in a cringy series.
Star Gazer Mar 2016
When Pablo Neruda does it, it's beautiful art.
When I do it, it's cringy and desparate.
When Van Gogh does it, it's dedication.
When I do it, it's insanity and a restraining order.
When Picasso does it, it's cubism.
When I do it, it's scribbles.
When Robert Frost does it, it's wisdom.
When I do it, it's 'Facebook Garbage'.
hj Jun 2022
I remember an old guy he was an alcoholic hospitalized with me, he used to cut his cigarette filter so it guests stronger, I do the same sometimes, I wonder what he’s doing now. When we used to ask him he used to say “I’m already messed up there’s nothing left to ruin” I wonder if he’s okay now if he finally has something to ruin, I wonder if I do too, and then I remember you. I remember your eyes looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters in this universe, I remember, how u could know if I was asleep or pretending to avoid a conversation, you said my eyes smiled when I fell asleep, I dont know what you meant by that, but it made me smile. I remember you proposing to me with a pine cone, and promising me you will do it again one day, but for real. I remember spending two days locked in a car with you, you were worried about me, you wouldn’t leave, we slept uncomfortably, but we were still comfortable cuz I was in your arms and you were in mine.
I remember dancing with you in the er as we waited for me to be admitted, it was cringy and cheesy but I didn’t care, in your arms the only thing I care for is you. I remember your lips on mine and how they tasted, I remember how the universe exploded but disappeared at the same time when you kissed me for the first time. I remember when You pinned me me against the wall and kissed me as if I was the only running river in a drought. I remember the flowers I sent you and how you keep them, I remember how u put my birthday gift in a box filled with those same flowers that you dried, it was a necklace a ring with wings, it was a promise. A promise that one day, we’ll have everything, we’ll have a house with a garden, and cats, so many cats, one day we’ll have kids and I’ll tell them how much their dad loved their mom, that’s how they’ll learn what love really is, one day we will have something to ruin, we will have everything to ruin, but we won’t
Finn Parker Apr 2018
I don't know how to act when women are involved
The world doesn't want my kind to begin with
Lack of significant motivation to get anything done
My wife thinks I think God is real
I'd find out if God is real
My voice is too nasally
I waste my wife's money
I can't figure out how to be normal
My dad is an alcoholic
I'm an alcoholic
I burden everyone I'm around
I seek attention
I don't want attention
That embarrassing thing I did in third grade
That embarrassing thing I did in fifth grade
That embarrassing thing I did in sixth grade
I cheated on my wife
I made another girl think I really loved her
I made another girl think we could run away together
Then I ran away without her
Blasphemy
I don't have a real job
I think I'm better at everything than I am
I think I'm superior to most everyone
I don't know what it feels like to be happy
I like futa
I cheat at my own goals
My family would be ashamed
My brother is a hikikamori and it's my fault
I scold him for it
I steal from family
I cannot empathize
I put down others to feel better
I do not want to live
I am self destructive
But not enough to count
I wear a mask around everyone
Except when I have a few beers
I listen to teenage girl scene music
I play garbage video games
I hate people who are like myself
No one cares
I lie to my spouse
I fantasize about her friends
I like cringy memes
I like memes
I think highly enough of memes to add them to this list
I prey on vulnerable women
By acting hopeless
I really am hopeless though
I seek approval in my writing
And I pretend I'm good at it
I'm too analytical
I play games no one cares about
I say things that aren't funny
I say things that aren't funny enough
And I laugh way too hard sometimes
I don't know how to keep a relationship going
And I can't make smalltalk with a straight face
I am a walking contradiction
I agree with both sides
I agree with neither side
I just want to be difficult
I insist on things that simply aren't true
And above all else I still think I'm going to heaven
Please help
Ryan May 2020
Some blokes are full of Dad jokes,

They have a wealth of these and are delivered with the corny expertise that only a Dad has.

They get a grin on their face as they lean forward like they’re about to say something profound.

“I used to be addicted to the Hokey Pokey, but I turned myself around.”

“What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground Beef.”

“I hate Russian Dolls, they’re so full of themselves.”

“Apparently, pet birds are popular this Christmas, they’re flying off the shelves.”

Passed down from Grandads to fathers,

One-liners for us to consume,

It’s the closest thing some have to a family heirloom.

“What did the first African phone user say? Kenya hear me now?”

“A cat's favourite Queen song? Don’t stop meow.”

When reversing his car, “This takes me back.”

Wedding speech, “It’s been an emotional day, even the cakes in tiers.”

There've been so many down the years,

Yes, they’re cringy but we should enjoy them while we can,

You never know what's in store, and they’ll be a time when we’d love to hear them just once more.
Beginner who is looking for some opinions and constructive feedback.
bones Jan 2018
Cringy love poems and sleepless nights,
Spending every waking moment wishing you were by my side.
mood rn.
redberries Jul 2017
The Perfect way to “Grow Up Too Fast” is by being a spectator for as long as you dream
yet you know just by submitting an application, you could be on the team

Failed by a daughter’s first hero, the warrior geared up,
Dreams still filled of rainbows and unicorns, lilies and daisies,
fireplace and wooden cabin, hot chocolate and cosy blankets,
chase towards the sunset, walks on the beach and dives into the seas.

First, it was electricity.
It got so shocking, it became cringy.
It was a nice piece of candy, with an intriguing wrapping,
you took a peek and it came alive. Chasing and haunting.
Too eager to have you taste its sweetness, too eager to have you love its taste.
Later when the obsession died down, you realised it wasn’t the flavour you want.

Then, it was bonfire. It got cold, deep in the woods.
In the dark, you see the fire from afar. Attracted, you closed in.
The fire crackled. Your new favourite sound.
You sat by the fire, telling stories of a warrior, of how she dreams in her town.
Ways to take off her shields and disarm her.
It was too hot. The fire almost melts you with warmth.
So you took off your jacket and moved closer.
It burnt you. You became speechless, as you were the one holding knives, so why were you the one bleedin?

Shortly after, a friend came over to look at those healing stitches.
But the request to show the scars were too absurd. You overreacted.
Leaving you in disgust and you zipped up your jacket.

It was just a scratch on the surface. Yet you felt you were quickly catching up.
No longer the new member on the team. “You learn fast”, they said.
The burden, the distance, the emptiness, left you as you were, as skin heals in seconds.
It just made you more familiar as a player.
Bandage ready, you are set for a new Match.
Here are few of the "Perfect Matches" before you eventually find The One.
Here is the reality for those who have yet to experience love.
Everyone was once 'new on the team'
H Phone Mar 2018
I wish I was strong
I wish I was strong enough to get out from under the comfort of my sheets
Or the warm water washing over my body in the shower
I wish I was strong enough to open my books,
Instead of listening to the same five songs again
I wish I was strong enough to get over a loss,
Be it a failed exam or a boss I can’t beat in a video game
I wish I was strong enough to help my friends
Because that's the person I strive to be
I wish I was strong enough to keep that job


I wish I was strong enough to like my own works
But it’s hard to when they look like this
No rhyme scheme or metaphors
Only thing this poem has got going for itself is that repeating stanza
Real clever or whatever
You call it slam poetry
But you might as well call it sham poetry
Slam poetry
Because you need to be slammed drunk to enjoy your poems
And don’t even pretend like you didn’t notice
How no one seems to give a **** about this
This series of ‘works’ that you’ve been putting out
Where all you do is ******* swear and shout
At yourself
******* hell

I bet your last line would have been
“I wish I was strong enough to love myself.”
Boo ******* hoo
Too ******* bad
Because you’ll only love me the moment you realize
That what I say is true
I’m not gonna say that I’m only rude
Because I love you
I hate your guts too
much for something so…
Sappy
You’re a bit of a sentimental, right, boo?
If sentimental meant pushover

Criticism!
Sorry, didn’t mean to scare
Oh wait, no, I don’t really care
Because even you’re aware
How you’ve locked yourself in an echo room
And the moment someone tries to break through…
“Don’t worry, I can take it.”
And then you write something edgy like this
You can’t take advice for ****
Because that’s your ******* deal
You’ve got tonnes of people giving you the advice that you need to heal
And you ignore every single one of them
Acquaintances, friends, family
And what about me?
DO I REALLY NEED TO ******* YELL TO GET THROUGH TO YOU

But It’s pointless anyway
You’re on auto-pilot already
Just cut the act and write your cringy addendum poem
We’re done here
...
Odd Odyssey Poet Jan 2023
subtly, subtly does the depression
rip me apart- a part of me
burning, it's all concerning and
undeserving—unnerving under my skin
i wish I could be a different person.


Who am l, who am I?

I....am the representation of all depression
in the darkest thoughts, all chasing- not to mention
The deception of what is my self-esteem,
a passive aggressive; less than the self taught lessons
a dog chasing it's tail, in a ball of tears my eyes are
always fetching.

I am depression: a random whisper of sadness
this is my depression who robs my gladness
A quiet madness, maddening villain; a saddening
million dark thoughts- non making sense but just bad dealing
I choke myself on awkward feelings, cutting myself
with the sharp thoughts of over thinking

I am depression: who makes you feel like everyone
else is in their well order. "You don't have much time to
make something of yourself, you’re getting much older"
Pour me tears of cringy replays, poor me could have
done better. People who pierce you, asking aren't
you supposed to be clever

I am depression: making you question everything
in anxiety's language. You're in a perfect imbalance,
impasse- a dead end in your head. Cornered, cornered!

This is depression, in it's usual session, an unhealthy
obsession to beg the question: is this out of your
compression? Comprehensive over spending, a penny for
a thought-in the end to only self lessen

I pray to the Lord that this feeling doesn't follow,
and if so, I don't want tomorrow.
nadine shane Jan 2018
maybe this is
all just a film.

an indie film
starring troubled teenage girls
finding out who they truly are;

a horror film
starring an ex-convict
being haunted by
his petrifying past;

a romance film
with cringy punchlines,
sly glances in the hallways,
passing notes during sessions,
a wink or a two.

this,
what we had,
was no more than
a documentary.

the brusque strokes of color
writing the art of detaching one's heart
in a single streak,
overwritten by harsh
and rash decisions,
regret bursting
through the air,
the feeling of being torn apart
by the swaying wind,
whispering,

the curtains
finally closed.
a bittersweet moment.
Anais Vionet Apr 2023
slang..
updogged = when you chip in to keep a conversation trend going
fit = gorgeous
buje = unexplainable glamor
football minute = a minute, that with time-outs, lasts a half an hour.
crute = cute but cringy
women's-rights = a really funny joke

In the subscribed course of science - and eventually medicine - night hours seem multiplied by the rough enforcement of study, but this tale is not about that, fair reader.

It’s about a reception, last Friday night. It hardly matters what it was for, there are so many. This one was first class - so please, have some decorum ladies. Our cast is Lisa, Leong, Sunny and I (4 roommates). We stay clumped together, on nights out, like conjoined quadruplets because there’s safety in numbers.

There were about sixty people there, mostly students. Lisa and I had gotten invitations, Leong and Sunny are our plus-ones. After making the rounds, doing our meeting and greeting due diligence, we’d captured one corner of a long table and began enjoying some actual drink-drinks. We’re usually studying, trying to prove ourselves like rats in a maze, so we go a little crazy when they let us out and about.

Is it me, or are free drinks just better than other flavors? There was a long line of ‘Tom Collins-ses,’ on the bar which one could freely walk up and take. I think they’re made with lemon juice, sprite, gin and the tears of fallen angels.

These were quite good, each featuring both a lemon slice AND a cherry. Like I said, first class. We were taking turns getting them, two of us going up, each returning with 2 drinks. That way we didn’t look like 4 hookers hanging on the bar like horses at a trough (decorum).

Socials, receptions, fundraisers - whatever - can be social minefields. Even in how you greet people. Do you shake hands? I’d heard that shakes were out due to COVID, but if so, they’re back now. Some people were even huggers - your professor initiates a hug and you just want to avoid head-butting him. Monday morning though, you better hand in that paper, girlie.

At one point (I was mothering my third Collins), Sunny said, “Meeting people is awkward,”
“Being out in the world is awkward,” I updogged.
“Not for Lisa,” Leong said, and everyone sniggered.
“Why not ME?” Lisa said, looking up from her phone.
“Because you’re fit,” Sunny said, “everywhere you go, it’s like ‘Goodfellas,’” she mimics various, waving people, “Hi Lisa, or Hey Lisa," and “Yo Lisa!” with the point & nod.
We all chuckled again, but Lisa said, “It’s not true.”

Alas, it is true. I’ve come to rely on Lisa’s buje. Places seem livelier, less daunting and more welcoming when she’s there. She draws all the attention - I might as well be her beaded handbag and I’m fine with that. In unfamiliar situations, she’s a shield, handling the initial introductions and handing people off to me, like a track-and-field sprinter passing the baton. Without Lisa, in new situations I’m quiet. Quiet doesn’t mean shy - that’s a false assumption, I’m a natural watcher.

I’m skipping the mingling and speechifying - the boring stuff. Apparently, it’s all about us, we need to make a plan and do more, about everything. Interestingly, of the 8 organizers (the adults) five had literary first names. There was a Jude, a Tess, an Ophelia, a Clarissa and a Cordelia. Granted, they’re all fictional characters, but why name a kid after a protagonist who came to a tragic end - to seem well read?

As Leong and Sunny returned with our fifth round, Sunny pronounced “Tom Collins for President!” and we all raised our glasses. Just then Leong’s phone whooped with a text. It took her football minute to fish the contraption out of her itty-bitty disco-clutch, and then she fumbled it to the floor like an oiled baby.

It was a crute moment that, at first, struck us like women's-rights - but it had a sobering effect too. We agreed, in the silence of exchanged glances, that perhaps we were having too much fun, and we soon made our usual quiet and dignified exit.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Contraption “a device or gadget.”
Marie Sep 2018
Take me to late-night, dim-lit poetry evenings in untrustworthy safe spaces where we can shyly smile at one another and let our tongues and eyes dance to the clicking of fingers and amplitudes of words,

Take me to drink cheap wine at crusty places,
To savour the cheap thrill of one, maybe two, but never more than two, sweet, sweet Rosés.

Take me for takeaway lattés and cringy sad-movie songs that we can lament to on the drive in your car where we can gaze at the yellow city lights shading the glimmer of oceanic blues.

Take me to puff hubbly smoke at your house or stream poorly thought out comedies while eating buttery, stale popcorn.

Don't take me to clubs or fancy expensive restaurants or any grand social events.
Don't take me to places where I'll have to compete for your attention.

Stay with me and stay simple

Understand that I am not like the majority of people you may know

Understand that all people are different and they won't swoon for the same things

And above all, try and understand me,
Please?

That is all I'm asking for
That is all you need to do to take me somewhere nice.
No one Dec 2019
The truth is,
I regret every decision I make.

I worry over nothing
And everything.

My mind is overflowing
Constant fear and paranoia

I want to be included,
But I don't want

I don't want.

I don't


I don't want to be a burden.
I don't want to be annoying.

I don't want to be weird,
Or cringy
Or awkward.

I don't want to be alone.

I don't want to die.
There are so many things I don't want to be,

I don't even have the courage to finish that sentence.
Quotedbykayla Dec 2018
All the memes and videos we shared together
that weren't really funny,
but funny in the way that you reacted to them
and the cringy faces we made after
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2021
The end of the line, is in this rhyme!

Hello to those of you listening,
recording all your thoughts.
Quick to answer the call before it's ringing.

Been caught up in between the wires,
haven't chatted with my inner child in a while.
The conversation at times, is caught up
in between the lines.
I laugh about it like it's all but fine. Wait, someone else is ringing up my line.

Depression, so nice of you to call,
thanks for reminding me why I feel so alone.
But I'm going to have to put you on hold.
You're happy to leave a message, straight after the tone.
And I'll be glad to leave it on ignore.

I don't live on people's area codes,
grew up so different from my two older bros.
My route in life has too many crossroads.
As a kid, I was never short a moment
of being weird.
Those cringy moments still haven't been cleared.

Speaking about the kids,

Searching for love, but she tries to test you.
Expecting too much from you, but won't double text you.
Testing my texting,
wasting my reproductive times too busy sexting.
I only know love for the worst expectations, and those hidden intentions.

Not to mention,
we're too busy overspending.
For a love that never replies your message.

Tell me if that's not depressing?

Anyways Mr Operator,
the problems of my mind sound too much like a dictator.
Tell them to call now, but I'll answer them later.

It's about that time,
I cut this call by the end of the line!
Ryzeofthepoet Sep 2018
I miss your lips calling me all the cutest nicknames under the sun.
Some are cringy
But some are lovely.
Im not complaining.
Ryzeofthepoet Sep 2018
I didn't expect to miss that thing you do when you squat down and do your weird pose.


Kinda cringy.
Kinda cute.
I miss you
mottled bookmarks pin  
     tiny fragments of mine.
       pages unfold from within
   and resist to curve behind the time.
       grimaces fade into memoirs.
         suit coats on petit bourgeois
     wink at my shredding guard vest of tin.
           to wipe off those band-aids,
             to slim my baggage sutcase,
       to bury the laundry in silk waters is to see
             it's lifting aloft no casting aground
               so I murmur aloud shunning the clout.
         a biting leech tot under battings of the brick.
               me overlooking my hot spice of a boy
                 is cringy to mimic a sickening coy.
           seems like I'm a worm and blood I eat and drink
                   to transmiss leukocytes all over the globe
                   when my maw is stuffed and my bulge bobes.
         two sides of me rubbed along are two poles.
                 I bite far and I link two organisms
               meds' substitution with itchy feelers
       and a deep chested sweetheart, him I fret.
               when to run my slabber in his blood
             is to dehydrate and self-slenderize me?
     awe-eyed lover man slim'd my tube in size.
           me be loved for a healer then be dumped
         but it's in my cytoplasm and in my blood
   to bottom the gutters as if by dirt under the fingernails.
         a biting thot inside the bloodsucker ***
       seen by people as a nocuous germ.
they may wash their hands with a laundry soap
       everybody is no island, I unrobe my cloth.
     to cut sheets from life diaries isn't tougher any more.
© 4 days ago, Anton   nature  • humor  • personal  • societ
I have something to say to you
Yeah you
The one who is all boohooing
Cheer up if you will
You'll pull through
I know that's something I shouldn't say
Because I know I can't change your worldview
Not like that anyway
I'm just here to let you know that you've got this
Don't let them control you
You know, the voices
If you ignore them
And listen to the ones that are like cheese and ham
Then you'll feel like superman!
...
Yeah, that's a weird way of saying it
BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY
right?
Listen to the ones that are positive
Then you'll get out of the abyss
It'll take a quick minute for your scars to heal
But you'll feel alive
Like, actually alive
Then you'll start to realize
And say to yourself
"Wow, thinking about negative things, what a waste of time!"
Then, later on, you'll read this poem again and say
"Wow.. this poem is actually kinda cringy"
Yup, but at least it's giving off good energy
Helping those who really need it
You know, the ones who want to end it

I've been there, but it got better
AND YEAH
PEOPLE SAYING THAT IS ANNOYING
seriously, I get it - but it's true
Don't end it now, you've got a whole life ahead of you
Who knows what awaits when you decide to continue
It could be a large barbecue
You love barbecues
Doesn't that sound wonderful to you?
No?
Well how about you having your own statue
Because you did something great
And you saw that statue
Because you decided to continue

Listen, some might say that  you've got value
When actuality, you're priceless
So don't waste it
And chase your dreams
You may never know
What things you'll  achieve
You know
The things in the future
Where it's brighter

I'm going to be honest here
You've got a choice
So do what thou wilt
And rejoice
But please
Believe in yourself
And you will succeed.
Juno Dec 2020
it might be cringy to be so melodramatic.


but my, what fun it is.
Nola Leech Feb 2020
One
They don’t know that 19-year-old doesn’t want them
The way they want to be wanted
To be needed
Like a housewife
To a loving caring husband
In their 30’s with four children and a great big house
He doesn’t share those dreams
Two
They like the attention they’re getting what they’ve never gotten before
When you used to be the ugly, weird girl
No one really paid attention to you
Until him
Even though you liked him first
Made sure he knew it
Had your friends help you message him
He was surprised
Three
He made you feel special
He told you that you were the only girl he was talking to
He told you that he seriously adored you
Four
We talked about everything
Almost
We talked about the good things in our day
We talked about movies
We talked about everything instead of what really was going on
I didn’t tell you I had an eating disorder
I didn’t tell you I was being abused
I didn’t tell you that every day I felt like ending it
That you and my friends were the only things keeping me tethered to the world
I didn’t tell you how much I loved you
How much I was falling
Five
You said how much you wanted to kiss me
Hold me, make sure that everything was okay
How you couldn’t wait for me to turn sixteen
11 months
Until...
Six
You couldn’t understand why I liked you so much
You said “I’m a letdown, It’s like when you thought you bought sweet tea but it’s actually unsweetened”
Verbatim
I thought that was so
Poetical
So deep
I realize now how wrong I was
Seven
You wanted to teach me how to kiss
Because I didn’t know how
I was unexperienced
Eight
We were so cringy
Looking back at it
I thought this supposed to be it
Calling you sweetheart and baby
When you barely knew the real me
You knew me but didn’t know
My trauma
What woke me up in the middle of the night
What I dreamed of
I longed for
My passion that I woke up every day to do
You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you
Because you never asked
Nine
You met my mom
Over video chat
I ensured her that she would love you
Just like I did
I told her all the good parts of you
And finally how happy I was with you
You said you were so nervous
But she didn’t think you were that bad
Ten
We wanted to meet up
We were going to meet at Hyvee
We planned it one day
When my mom had to pick up her medication
You were going to walk from your apartment while my mom went to the pharmacy
While I waited by the bathroom
Our plan was to have our first kiss
Maybe introduce you to my mom
Like we had both bumped into each other
Eleven
You were so much more attentive than Gabe
I told you about him
How he was my first real boyfriend
How he didn’t care
Or want to talk to me
But you did
And I thought
That was fantastic
Twelve
I thought I was the apple of your eye
But clearly I wasn’t
Thirteen
I got so many good poems out of you, it was crazy
Fourteen
Despite all the red flags I loved you
Fifteen
I was only fifteen
Mejia Feb 2020
Bus stops
Train stations
Awkward social gatherings
As cringy as family reunions you’re forced to go to
Except nobody has the embarrassing stories
That you hate to love to hear
Gas stations
That broken down 7-11 on the corner block
That has always been there
Where each stranger is as...strange as the next
The lunch line at school
Where you pass by those same old, soulful eyes
That have watched you since the first day of school
With the wild hair and stubby little fingers
That have watched a thousand broken promises pass by
Airports!
Airports where you are given the privilege to witness
The curious-as-can-be toddlers
With limitless imaginations
Not a care in the world, despite mom and dad always fighting
They don’t care
They’re still roaming around in their own universe
Running in circles with their arms spread out
No, sorry
With their wings extended out
So close to flying, just like the planes outside
They’re the same metal cages
Except nobody has told them that they’re not supposed to fly
Yet
In the passionate air guitarists
The professional lip syncers in the bathroom mirror reflection
And the truly skilled piano rockstars
That don’t quite exist yet

In the hopeless poet
Filling up pages
Like the ****** addict
Pushes in the needle
Both unaware of their coming demise
For just as there are those who overdose
The poet will eventually run out of ink
They will both search frantically before dropping to their knees
And the only thing left to clean up
Will be the diseased needles and ripped pages of scribbled nonsense
Sorry for the shoutout
In the teenage boy
Struggling to face his depression
Because he’s told to “be a man!”
In the teenage girl
Struggling to face her depression
Because she’s told “it’s all in your head, you’re overreacting”
In the teenage them/they/theirs
Struggling to face their depression
Because they know who they are
It’s the rest of the world that’s confused
So they’re not allowed to be themselves
Alice in Wonderland made more sense
All three are struggling to tame the uncontrollable thoughts
Criticized by the close minded Twitter posts and careless comments
All three are struggling to fight the daily battle
To ignore
To break through their ceilings
And finally have a chance at reaching through to the heavens
Desperate to escape this hell
Designed by those surrounding the warriors
Except they’ve just punched a whole through the roof of their coffin
And the small space is now filled to the brim with dirt
Suffocated
By the uncontrollable thoughts
Like Harvey on Huston
Except these three aren’t “Huston Strong”
They aren’t going to emerge from the dirt
Warriors once more
I’m sorry that I wasn’t there

In all those
Who get goosebumps when listening to a song
That they can feel is from another lifetime,
And who know that their adjective “weird”
Isn’t an insult
It’s a brand of respect,
Your see it
The Lost Ones
Each singing a soundtrack to their life
That they desperately wish they wrote
Yeah, you-----J.M.
Payton Hayes Feb 2021
Hello fellow poets and patrons of poetry!

I am making this post because I will be moving all of my poetry from my website here officially starting now!

I've decided to keep what I've already posted here and just post the rest of it in chronological order from 2016 to now.

That's over four years of poetry and nearly 600 poems.

It's going to take me a minute to get it all up and a bunch of it is old, crusty, cringy poems that I wrote just starting out, so please be kind.

You're going to see a lot of growth over the past five years.

I do hope you'll join me on this journey! Please leave your thoughts as the poems pop up! Any and all commentary is welcome, but please be respectful!

<3
—Payton

You can find me elsewhere:
Editing, Writing, and Book Blog: www.wonderforest.net
Instagram: @lifeasalyric
Brandi the Brave Aug 2021
Mental illnesses aren't funny.
Mental disabilities aren't funny.
Some moments are comedy.
Having cringy moments at a young age aren't funny they are embarrassing.
Having mental moments aren't funny it's degrading to be made fun of for something you can't change about yourself.
Some moments where people are equals and being stupid together is comedy.
Graff1980 Jul 2021
I have learned to look away
form the gleaming day
to embrace the shade,
to kiss the lips of my pain,
and smile nostalgically
knowing there is no hope for me.

I have learned to love
unpossessively
because any higher degree
would probably be seen
as super creepy
from this old and sleepy
crater sized cracked
heart hole that leaks
poetry which speaks
to the innermost of my
cringy crying ghost being.

In observing from
a digital distance
I have forgone
the need for any resistance.
You can be as dismissive
as you would like to be
and will not really break me.

I am super friendly
adoring
the heart you’re exploring,
whilst ignoring
any potential heartache
because a heart that breaks
from this far away
doesn’t hold any shape.
It’s just pretty little
glittering glass shards
sparkling and dancing
in the early spring
as I lay down to sing,
its crystal razors shredding
my heart from
the equal distance of
fantasies and the sun.

In person I would
happily succumb,
lay under your thumb
green with envy
for any other who
would challenge me
for just a fraction of
a chance to love and see
those feeling returned to me.

But on the internet
you are my sweet 2d
daydream that screams
blood curdling visions
of inspiration into my being.

— The End —