"crit" poems
We are too nice for our own good
You said "We should have a nice race,
But I would let you go first"
I laughed, fingers crossed my keyboard
"Yeah but I would throw the race."
I replied grinning ear to ear.
No one's talked to me like this in ages
I often stare at empty pages
When they discover I have a husband
Conversations often get bland.
I assumed it's because I'm unavailable
Why invest the time?
Perhaps it's because I'm unavailable
They don't want to cross a line.
Charisma plus 5
Charm is a crit. Success
Why do I want you to think I'm pretty?
Is that why I wore this dress?
I don't want an affair,
It's just a girly crush
On the man finally brave enough
To be too nice for his own good.
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 11:56 AM UTC
I’d thought that they were extinct until
I found one in the coop,
A genuine Jersey Giant, strutting
Up on the henhouse roof,
Twice the size of the other hens
As I said to my sister, Faye,
‘Where did it come from?’ She replied,
‘Not there yesterday!’
‘I go to collect the eggs each day,
Do you think that could be missed?
That bird is a giant,’ she declared,
‘So don’t blame me, desist!’
I calmed her down, for she used to flare
At the slightest hint of crit.,
‘Whatever it is, it’s here to stay,
Perhaps we can breed from it?’
There wasn’t a cockerel near the size
Of this random Jersey Black,
‘It must have come visiting overnight,
I joked, ‘from a neighbour’s shack.’
She wandered into the henhouse and
From behind an empty keg,
She said, ‘You’d better come look at this,’
And showed me a giant egg.
An egg so big that you wouldn’t think
That a chicken could let it pass,
Tall and brown with a pointed crown
And a shell as thick as glass,
‘Are we going to let it hatch it out,’
Said Faye, ‘or crack it yet?
I wonder how many that would feed
As a giant omelette?’
‘We’ll leave her be, and we’ll wait and see
If a monster’s there inside,
We might as well, if a cockerel
It can be the henhouse pride.’
So we let her sit on the giant egg
For a week, or maybe more,
Then Faye came running inside one day,
‘You’ve not seen this before!’
The egg emitted a humming noise
And rocked a bit on its base,
While through the shell there were coloured lights
That would fade then grow apace,
And as we stood it began to crack
Then pieces would fall away,
It almost gave me a heart attack
For what I saw that day.
For spinning inside the egg we saw
A tiny universe,
With a sun-like star at the centre and
Our planets, in reverse,
And as we watched it began to grow
To float out the henhouse door,
Swelling constantly as it rose
To the skies, with a mighty roar.
I don’t know what it has done to us,
The sky doesn’t look the same,
There are three moons now in the evening sky
Since the Jersey rooster came,
I lopped the chicken that laid the egg
And I wait for the slightest sight,
With an axe for the Jersey cockerel
That Faye prays to at night.
David Lewis Paget
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
Jekyl or Hyde
above the belly
on a beer tap
in the ally,
below the waste
goombaya
out of the preachers face,
it's my body Yue!!!
now You!!! tattoo this on on my chest,
permanently
now hidden behind a vest.
gin & tonic
sure don't mean tiger
given to a drunk crit
as an insult from China.
Apr 17, 2023
Apr 17, 2023 at 2:07 PM UTC
I am who I am
there's no fact denying.
If I weren't this way now,
I'm built upon lying.
I'll be on top
alone for awhile.
Watching poor fools
drown in denial.
I don't wish to tell you
the reasons for this
I don't really have one
There's nothing you've missed.
My heart is my own
to give by my choice.
God gave me this life
as well as a voice.
I don't wave the rainbow,
I'm not off in mind
I'm in better company
with those of my kind.
Games aren't my scheme
of a worthwhile time.
I'll tell myself that
while I bid you goodbye.
I have no desire
to follow this clique.
To be someone like
these insufferable ******
While you all try
your best to ******
I'll always see you
as poor and recluse.
I wish it weren't so
these feelings of hate
But my love is earned
by those I deem great.
I do not see reason
for my ways to alter
I'll sit back and laugh
as they break and falter.
Don't inquire me
on my current branding.
I've been a lone ranger
and thus, I'm still standing.
If there is a One
made to be mine,
I'll let it all be
with patience and time.
To friends and family:
do not change one bit.
You are the adhesive
that makes life so crit.
To all the foolhearted
and frivolous swine:
Happy and sated
are not the same kind.
To those stuck in limbo:
I hear you so clear.
For we all have times
when hope's nowhere near.
Lead with your heart
your head will soon follow
By then all your tears
will be easy to swallow.
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 10:52 PM UTC
We here to teach people
Agency
trying to turn the world
into super agents
see
climbing ladders quickly is great and all
except when they leaned against the wrong wall
Thats why you ton't catch me saying any ****
that's not worth praying
more like catch me screaming
that's some super-saiyan
saying **** some super way laying split
over 9,000, thats crit.
Mumble rapper
more like spray and pray
I̵̲͔͇͕̱ͅ'̶̲͉̯̤̲̞ͅm̮̬̱͠ ̠̯̫͙̩͟á͖̹̱̹̣ͅ ̨̖̲͎̮͖̤ẖ̺̤͚̣̙͠ͅo̖͖̬l̙̘̘̱y̟̰̻̦ ̧̬͉̪̬ͅt͎a̟̕g̛͕g͇͓̱er͓̯̫̭ ͕̝̪̩̦̦͕,̷͍̞͓͙̟̪̼ ̲̞͈̭c̜̣͡a͇͍͇̱̺͡ͅl̺ļ̲̲̩̻̲ ̧͎i̺̳̦̬͔͜t͏̜̠ ͙̠̣̟p̝͍̜͓͜r͔̜̖̹a͎̹̙̯̗̞͔y͙̫̱͙͓͝ ͕͎͕̝ạ̭͟n̤̣͚̠͈d͈̹̠̼͎̥ ̱͎͕͔ ̣͉̳͉͖̙̫͟s̺p̤̝̟̹̪r͕̝̫͉̝a͎͍̥͝y͞
I pick a bone like U picket sign
I pick a rhyme you just pick a side
call me pickle rick pest with blood tide
never needing rest that’s just the test side..
Lets just take it back to Sally with the shells on the B side.
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 11:11 AM UTC
why do you not crit my work
for i am just a people
just like you and i need
feedback
i **** and **** like do you all
come on tell me
what do you think of the poems
i put on here?
Sep 1, 2012
Sep 1, 2012 at 8:46 PM UTC
Dead by now
Beat no more
Vacant vessels
Coagulation
Pallid wax figurines
Sharpened cheek
Outspread parted lips
Ultraviolet, green
No steam on windows
Nor on mirrors
Straight lined limbs
Electricity's velocity
Sparks have ceased
Relinquishing
Now
For ever, as it may last
Paces staggering in the stillness
Tip toe, tip toe, on the extremity
Of last words
Of last sounds
Behind the lights hid also a light
Bright from outer space
Veiled by artificial power
Waved a thousand dragonflies
Crickets and mosquitoes
******* the last bulb
Out of ephemeral euphonies
The jingles
Were nothing more than
Bzzzz and crit crit crit
Tear drops fused with dew
Chances to say
None left
Buckets of drooping consonants
And syllables
No more reaping
Quick sand slipping
Down under
The bed of nightmares
Freshly baked sheets
Right out of the oven
Armpits over heat
A shot
And shattered glasses
Crooked and broken eyelids
Fingers in an earthquake
Face to face
With the mirror
The ashes
Twist and twirl
Roaring agonizing
Against the flames
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 11:09 AM UTC