Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"cussed" poems
Laid here counting roof tiles... two at a time my eyes heavy but my lids in denial of sleep she whispers in my ear are you awake then adds good with a grin WHY NOT abandon one basic need for another why not rest upon anothers flesh soft and warm scented with the promise of dreams insomnia so cruely denies Pillow pressed beneath her back giving support so sorely needed amid the punctuated night time prayers God called upon in blasphemous tongues praised and cussed in unison of mouths wet and open Sheets that offer no warmth soon cast off replaced by heat of breath and perspiration sweet and salty to the lips kissing nibbling biting nails find no fault inscribing thank yous in reddened ink Falling back exhausted yet wide awake as by my side cuddled in she sleeps smiling and I close my eyes and think myself blessed for every night the first for we two have yet to sleep together.
0
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 10:12 PM UTC
Sleeps Over ******
I woke up from a dream, in which I met an old lady, who was such a ***** My grandson, who is two ate fish fingers from a plate, as he sat in the luggage rack at the front of the bus. The old lady got off chuntering and muttering, that he shouldn't be eating fingers made out of fish, as he was sat on the bus. ****** woman picked them of and stole them straight from his plate, Muttering, that it was disgusting eating fish fingers while sat on the bus. "Listen here mate, that's wholly inappropriate", said I. Somehow resisting the urge to punch her in the eye. I cursed and cussed and I gave her my worst. While my grandson, just sat still on the bus, still a little bemused He's not used to old lady's pinching his food. She got off the bus, after facing my daggers, just looks, as I don't often cook. She had the audacity to steal his tea, apart from bits of verbal conflict, got off ****** scot free she did. My grandson, he just looked up at me, after squishing the remnants into my knee. My most expensive rain coat is now in need of washing. I'm wondering now who'll be fitting the bill. My heart melting grandson looked straight into my eyes. At the end of this story, he's the perfect prize. But he's still a little hungry, as she stole his fish fingers. And this silly bit of prose is just a pack of silly lies. Made up as the result of a dream, I just had. Here's hoping you enjoyed my tale. It's pouring with rain and blowing a gale. Probably the noise it drew me from sleep. The times when dreams are prevalent. When fantasy from dreams be inventive and put to wholly good use. (c)Livvi
0
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 5:56 AM UTC
FISH FINGER SAGA, WAS ICELANDIC COD!
I woke up from a dream, in which I met an old lady, who was such a ***** My grandson, who is two ate fish fingers from a plate, as he sat in the luggage rack at the front of the bus. The old lady got off chuntering and muttering, that he shouldn't be eating fingers made out of fish, as he was sat on the bus. ****** woman picked them of and stole them straight from his plate, Muttering, that it was disgusting eating fish fingers while sat on the bus. "Listen here mate, that's wholly inappropriate", said I. Somehow resisting the urge to punch her in the eye. I cursed and cussed and I gave her my worst. While my grandson, just sat still on the bus, still a little bemused He's not used to old lady's pinching his food. She got off the bus, after facing my daggers, just looks, as I don't often cook. She had the audacity to steal his tea, apart from bits of verbal conflict, got off ****** scot free she did. My grandson, he just looked up at me, after squishing the remnants into my knee. My most expensive rain coat is now in need of washing. I'm wondering now who'll be fitting the bill. My heart melting grandson looked straight into my eyes. At the end of this story, he's the perfect prize. But he's still a little hungry, as she stole his fish fingers. And this silly bit of prose is just a pack of silly lies. Made up as the result of a dream, I just had. Here's hoping you enjoyed my tale. It's pouring with rain and blowing a gale. Probably the noise it drew me from sleep. The times when dreams are prevalent. When fantasy from dreams be inventive and put to wholly good use. (c)Livvi
Continue reading...
26
[Verse 1] In the dark , We come out and play We are its children, And were here to stay Running through , Hungry for strays No invitation, take me away Im not cruel, But thats still what you see Club to club, Come see this city with me Hungry for life, Without your pity I dont want it, But you give it Still cant say she wont start up Still cant say she wont start up a fight You go city Cause in the city of life she cant she cant wait [Verse 2] In the darkness, A killer awaits To **** a life, And the lies you make You do another, So this death can live Just keep on dancing, To the movie your in The smell of your sweat, Just lures me in Your heartbeat, Does sing to me Running feet, Beats my blood My ghost inside you, Soon will be Still cant say she wont start up Still cant say she wont start up a fight You go city Cause in the city of life she cant she cant wait Hungry for strays, hungry for life, no invitate your pity [x8] I dont want *** but you give it Still cant say she wont start up Still cant say she wont start up a fight You go city Cause in the city of life she cant she cant wait [x2] [Verse 3] Now its over, You've taken your life The dark grows thin, And I'm left to hide I don't regret it, But its sad anyway Now were both dead, And scared of the black This life of games, And diligent trust Its the things we do, Or the things we must Im now tired of being cussed So go sleep forever end to dust Writers: Nicholas Routledge, Michael di Francesco, Matthew van Schie, Tomek Archer, Alice Glass, Ethan Kath
0
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 3:59 PM UTC
Lyrics to "Vanished" (Crystal Castles)
[Verse 1] In the dark , We come out and play We are its children, And were here to stay Running through , Hungry for strays No invitation, take me away Im not cruel, But thats still what you see Club to club, Come see this city with me Hungry for life, Without your pity I dont want it, But you give it Still cant say she wont start up Still cant say she wont start up a fight You go city Cause in the city of life she cant she cant wait [Verse 2] In the darkness, A killer awaits To **** a life, And the lies you make You do another, So this death can live Just keep on dancing, To the movie your in The smell of your sweat, Just lures me in Your heartbeat, Does sing to me Running feet, Beats my blood My ghost inside you, Soon will be Still cant say she wont start up Still cant say she wont start up a fight You go city Cause in the city of life she cant she cant wait Hungry for strays, hungry for life, no invitate your pity [x8] I dont want *** but you give it Still cant say she wont start up Still cant say she wont start up a fight You go city Cause in the city of life she cant she cant wait [x2] [Verse 3] Now its over, You've taken your life The dark grows thin, And I'm left to hide I don't regret it, But its sad anyway Now were both dead, And scared of the black This life of games, And diligent trust Its the things we do, Or the things we must Im now tired of being cussed So go sleep forever end to dust Writers: Nicholas Routledge, Michael di Francesco, Matthew van Schie, Tomek Archer, Alice Glass, Ethan Kath
Continue reading...
43
Taffeta dress. Pink bows and ribbons, Plaited elegantly through her shiny hair. Shoes made of crystal glass. Azure eyes that allure. Princes and spinsters. All vying for love. In ball gowns. Feel the frowns. The pauper descends. Out of place, amid friends. Pretences of sisters who whisper and moan. Two sisters and mother that clamour the throne. They're trying for love. Met on the staircase. We really don't really care case. Sisters on ladders of heels,as they stagger . Their mouths filthy as bladders and bowels. Nasty creatures. Vile in lust. Lustful greed. Maternal demon seed. Stepmother, toxically crumbles to dust. Crone godmother. A quick sip of milk. Cinderella my lovely became but a sylph. Dispelled stepmother and daughter's that cussed. Transport to the princes ball. In a pumpkin, should maybe have been made into a sickly sweet pie. Lizards as footmen, stood fast on the back on the coach pulled by white mice. The creatures were shocked. By the changes, all the rearrangements. Built up with Cinderella before, a creature comfort kind of rapport. Be back by midnight said the fairy godmother, she knew he'd really grow to love her. Midnight came midnight went. A glorious evening only lent. She tripped on the stair, Nobody cared, except the prince and cute cinders. She lost her shoe, in a hurry to flee. Prince himself picked it up, unable to believe in lady luck was meant to be. He searched his dominions far and wide, just to find his princess bride. All the best things found in fairy tales. What do I find? Just slugs and snails. Yep, you guessed it I'm a bit of a cynic. (c)Livvi MMCV
0
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
MOVIE INSPIRATION
Taffeta dress. Pink bows and ribbons, Plaited elegantly through her shiny hair. Shoes made of crystal glass. Azure eyes that allure. Princes and spinsters. All vying for love. In ball gowns. Feel the frowns. The pauper descends. Out of place, amid friends. Pretences of sisters who whisper and moan. Two sisters and mother that clamour the throne. They're trying for love. Met on the staircase. We really don't really care case. Sisters on ladders of heels,as they stagger . Their mouths filthy as bladders and bowels. Nasty creatures. Vile in lust. Lustful greed. Maternal demon seed. Stepmother, toxically crumbles to dust. Crone godmother. A quick sip of milk. Cinderella my lovely became but a sylph. Dispelled stepmother and daughter's that cussed. Transport to the princes ball. In a pumpkin, should maybe have been made into a sickly sweet pie. Lizards as footmen, stood fast on the back on the coach pulled by white mice. The creatures were shocked. By the changes, all the rearrangements. Built up with Cinderella before, a creature comfort kind of rapport. Be back by midnight said the fairy godmother, she knew he'd really grow to love her. Midnight came midnight went. A glorious evening only lent. She tripped on the stair, Nobody cared, except the prince and cute cinders. She lost her shoe, in a hurry to flee. Prince himself picked it up, unable to believe in lady luck was meant to be. He searched his dominions far and wide, just to find his princess bride. All the best things found in fairy tales. What do I find? Just slugs and snails. Yep, you guessed it I'm a bit of a cynic. (c)Livvi MMCV
Continue reading...
46
There was a small fly who flew in my ear, All cosy and warm, with nothing to fear. A harmless existence, though short on sun, He beat his wings against my ear drum. ''Its in my ear!!'', I cried in shock, Whilst those stood round began to mock. ENOUGH of THIS, my new, near neighbour! (The car key was ****** in pain I cussed. . .) But calm was restored with my makeshift sabre :)
0
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC
A meeting with a fly
Today I watched your lungs turn inside out against themselves, the air unsure of where to go so it just hovered in that middle space between coughs, when you thought you'd caught your breath but your voice hitched when you tried to talk and you started choking again, I saw that today, your eyes watering as you struggled to remind your body how to sustain itself, you cussed between fits and asked, "isn't this supposed to happen on its own," you wheezed, "shouldn't something so instinctual be easier than this?" You didn't sound like you wanted an answer so I kept my mouth shut, brought you a glass of water.
0
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
Asthma
blood                                                   blood patter and splash                             leads us         concrete toward tracing back        til the scene         i’ve flashing thoughts of the brutality    the violence     that must of cussed     between persons                      in fear    fray    and inebriation down the steps                                                  my four year old child and I go           the greasing bleed     in bronze putters   growing and leadening on stone labours glowing citrus    the refrigeration                           of the underpass           ‘flips the bird'   at the summer blaze grey dead coral bricks of urination   seasoned in deep   beading now cold the broke up weapon                                            candy slates of brittle teeth glass / bottle / beer /brown     the neck its' hilt                    and the main mud of the bleeding the flies are the thing                                                          that bothers my ‘little nipper’ usually a flapper of queries on repetition no other queries are raised      just eager for the vibration       of train carriages gatling over our heads i stopper any words i may have on the matter   he holds my hand with his hot hand we progress under a port arms                                                                procession of caged floodlights       and walled in by fresh graffiti fingers dripping   retching for the guttering
0
Dec 22, 2023
Dec 22, 2023 at 3:05 PM UTC
melrose underpass (26/06/23)
blood                                                   blood patter and splash                             leads us         concrete toward tracing back        til the scene         i’ve flashing thoughts of the brutality    the violence     that must of cussed     between persons                      in fear    fray    and inebriation down the steps                                                  my four year old child and I go           the greasing bleed     in bronze putters   growing and leadening on stone labours glowing citrus    the refrigeration                           of the underpass           ‘flips the bird'   at the summer blaze grey dead coral bricks of urination   seasoned in deep   beading now cold the broke up weapon                                            candy slates of brittle teeth glass / bottle / beer /brown     the neck its' hilt                    and the main mud of the bleeding the flies are the thing                                                          that bothers my ‘little nipper’ usually a flapper of queries on repetition no other queries are raised      just eager for the vibration       of train carriages gatling over our heads i stopper any words i may have on the matter   he holds my hand with his hot hand we progress under a port arms                                                                procession of caged floodlights       and walled in by fresh graffiti fingers dripping   retching for the guttering
Continue reading...
35
Everytime you Whispered In her ear The car swerved Each time You slid Your fingers Over her shoulder I grew unnerved You looked At me And said Your fantasy Was between us I never hated you more than then She sobbed I cussed I hope Someday You know how it feels To want to **** a man And drive away
0
Aug 13, 2021
Aug 13, 2021 at 8:06 PM UTC
I Still Day Dream About Gouging Your Eyes Out
To trust the rust wrought lemon husk To edge the endeavour far beyond cussed Weft warped kisses dress un-silken chest Cleft clawed viscera separated not even by breath. Dust dredged surface beds descry all but the separation of legs our bodies dressed in skin and flesh our eyes undress what was left as feet fold right to our chest Remembrance seeds your rosemary breath An eternal path gained through worldly deft As voids are filled like celestial nests
0
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 7:10 PM UTC
Forest floors
He was the best one I've ever had He was my only and the only thing I had He was my lover my pride and joy He said such nice things to me day and night He wanted me to himself All to him Not family not friends Not even his friends He lied and cussed me out He lied and cheated on me Why did I stay? He broke up with me without my doing wrong I cried all night long He tore my heart out again, and again He broke up with me if I didn't like what he liked He broke up with me if I didn't stay the night And yet I still stayed with him We got back together and I loved him I loved him so much even When he hit me again Why is it that I loved him so much He hit me and bruised me Why is it that I loved him so much? Even though He beat me every-day continuously For a year and four months I loved him so much till he broke me I could never acknowledge him The same way again. My friends were there for me Each and every time Every-time I'd start to cry
0
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 3:08 PM UTC
My boyfriend
There was an old man on my street, Who resembled a pig made for meat; He cussed and he drank He fought and he stank, 'till a car squished him into concrete!
0
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 11:39 AM UTC
Mr. Limerick
Will my name remain in the Book of Life Lord knows every day I try But I’m a sinful man Living in a sinful land Doing everything I can To get by My favorite team lost last night I cussed and cried I got in a fight Lord knows every day I try but I’m a sinful man Living in a sinful land Doing everything I can To get by Probably drank too much last night Carried on, had some fun done some things that weren’t right Lord knows every day I try But I’m a sinful man Living in a sinful land Doing everything I can To get by Didn’t make it to church because I stayed out last night Now I’m watching the TV preacher trying to make things right The Lord knows I try But I’m a sinful man Living in a sinful land Doing everything I can To get by Will my name remain in the Book of Life Lord knows every day I try But I’m a sinful man Living in a sinful land Doing everything I can To get by
0
Apr 3, 2022
Apr 3, 2022 at 10:42 AM UTC
I'm a Sinful Man
'Twas the night before Christmas--Old Santa was ****** He cussed out the elves and threw down his list. Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks. I have a good mind to scrap the whole works! I've busted my *** for **** near a year, Instead of 'Thanks Santa'--what do I hear? The old lady ******* cause I work late at night. The elves want more money--The reindeer all fight. Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids. Donner is pregnant and ***** has AIDS. And just when I thought that things would get better Those ******** from the IRS sent me a letter, They say I owe taxes--if that ain't **** funny Who the hell ever sent Santa Claus any money? And the kids these days--they all are the pits They want the impossible--Those mean little ***** I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds Assembling dolls...Their arms, legs and heads I made a ton of yo yo's--No request for them, They want computers and robots...they think - I'm IBM! Flying through the air....dodging the trees Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees I'm quitting this job there's just no enjoyment I'll sit on my fat *** and draw unemployment. There's no Christmas this year now you know the reason, I found me a blonde. I'm going SOUTH for the season
0
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC
Santa's Story.....Anonymous
I went to the hospital and they said they were going to shove a camera up my *** I told them that I didn't want that to happen, I told them that I was going to pass. But they said it was too late because I'd already signed the papers that allowed them to treat me. But I didn't want a camera up my *** I would've rather that they used baseball bats to beat me. They shoved the camera up my *** and it went in deep. It really hurt because the idiots forgot to put me to sleep. I cussed those ******** out and they said that they didn't like my attitude. But they disliked it even more when they had to pay me two million bucks after I sued.
0
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC
Colonoscopy
Let me tell you a bit about me A bit that I haven’t told anyone Here goes nothing… I listen to Lady Gaga A lot The smell of whiskey doesn’t burn my nose Rather it smells familiar, similar to maple syrup I love to dance a lot when no one is looking And really provocatively I doubt my ability Yet fear my potential I kissed a boy in first grade But don’t know why I have literally hid this all my life The book “Charley and the Chocolate Factory” changed me And I never like chocolate until this year I am afraid of dogs I grew up with dogs all of my life I really dislike my arms from the elbow up But play off my flannel shirts and hoodies as a fashion statement I bite my nails but not nervously Rather because nail clippers make my nails feel weird I watch **** No one really admits that one but most of us do I love not washing my hair But I hate going out in public that way I love most people but pretend I don’t It’s easier that way I love the feeling of crumbling sheet rock Especially if it is wet I have cussed since I was probably 7… I think I cuss less now than I did in fifth grade I generally admire those farthest from me They are what I’ll never be I could see myself as president But just as easily a stripper I have to try really hard not to cry when I think of my childhood Especially young memories I have tweezed my eye brows And my toes I have worn makeup while no one was home Mainly just to try it I love eating raw sugar Especially chewing it I am pretty sure I was delusional as a child But sometimes I feel like either I wasn’t or I still am I don’t feel like people ever really know me Especially my family There is a chunk of me Please don’t waste it
0
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
Chunk of Me
Let me tell you a bit about me A bit that I haven’t told anyone Here goes nothing… I listen to Lady Gaga A lot The smell of whiskey doesn’t burn my nose Rather it smells familiar, similar to maple syrup I love to dance a lot when no one is looking And really provocatively I doubt my ability Yet fear my potential I kissed a boy in first grade But don’t know why I have literally hid this all my life The book “Charley and the Chocolate Factory” changed me And I never like chocolate until this year I am afraid of dogs I grew up with dogs all of my life I really dislike my arms from the elbow up But play off my flannel shirts and hoodies as a fashion statement I bite my nails but not nervously Rather because nail clippers make my nails feel weird I watch **** No one really admits that one but most of us do I love not washing my hair But I hate going out in public that way I love most people but pretend I don’t It’s easier that way I love the feeling of crumbling sheet rock Especially if it is wet I have cussed since I was probably 7… I think I cuss less now than I did in fifth grade I generally admire those farthest from me They are what I’ll never be I could see myself as president But just as easily a stripper I have to try really hard not to cry when I think of my childhood Especially young memories I have tweezed my eye brows And my toes I have worn makeup while no one was home Mainly just to try it I love eating raw sugar Especially chewing it I am pretty sure I was delusional as a child But sometimes I feel like either I wasn’t or I still am I don’t feel like people ever really know me Especially my family There is a chunk of me Please don’t waste it
Continue reading...
49
Perched on the plank seat of the old wagon the dusty man gently jiggles the reins of his reliable old steeds, they as resolved as he to reach Archer City to get booked up. Larry was there with his white hair whittling his latest creation, an overweight manuscript sure to cause a sensation no matter its heft. They sat together talking til the fireflies flew, shared stories of books loves, and good bass hooks, reaching down to fetch a fresh brew when they got parched which was frequent as they spoke at length of men like Woodrow and Gus, how they cussed, poked, and stretched yarn after yarn. Larry’s gone to the barn but the guy who pulled up in that old wagon still is reading and yet yearns to revisit Texas lakes to fish bass, visit the local café, and eat a passel of pancakes or a big, tasty chicken fried steak.
0
Jun 18, 2022
Jun 18, 2022 at 1:31 AM UTC
Man on the Wagon
Spark seeker sitting anxiously in the dark Counting every second to the sunrise Blood, sweat and tears flowing down a stream of skin grinded by an infinite hour glass Grasping for air to rise and mine once more for an everlasting bliss Shattered by critics, cussed by ignorance and spat on by arrogance A spark seeker rises like a phoenix above heights no eye can ever see Persistence is key. Persistence shines light into the essence of mortality While a spark seeker seeks light in the dark Captivated by the fruit of blissful infinity.
0
Jul 5, 2017
Jul 5, 2017 at 1:38 PM UTC
Spark Seeker
Just mahogany and horsehide glue, machine heads and a ***** or two. Plywood top, solid sides and back, bone and fake ivory, ebony, and shellac. Steel and bronze wire, to make her ring. A well placed sound hole to let her sing. But for love or money I played here every week, for 30 years she has earned my keep. Four star restaurants, or beer soaked bars, or serenading a lover under summer night stars. A joyous birthday, sad funeral of a friend, she's always been there, on one I can depend. Drunken'- Dancin' New Years Eve bashes, barbequed sun baked poolside splashes. St. Valentine's Day love songs, wine and roses, or a smoky old blues club that never closes. A nursing home sing along on St. Patty's day, a hurricane party till we all got blown away. Christmas carols by soft candlelight, I've played this guitar most every night. From Florida to Canada, Vegas to NYC, from Frank Sinatra, to Conway Twitty. Zeppelin to Bach, JT to Pink Floyd, anything to keep me from being employed. One night in Nashville Greg Allman played on her, And asked me to join him, oh what an honor. We make people happy, we bring them together, when I play on her I am as light as a feather. Some fell in love, and got married from our tunes, some nights we're alone on sugar beach dunes. She's filled up my tip jar, and filled up my heart. Because of this guitar my life got its start. I've sat up with her all night, when she was sick, changed strings a million times, broken many a pick. Caressed her, strummed her, as she dashed my fears, cussed her and ****** her, as she tasted my tears. With her I wooed my lover, until she married me. She has been my addiction, and she has set me free. They applaud for me, but she's really the star. I know it's just wood and wire, but she's my guitar. ###====(==O==== )###====(==O==== ) ###====(==O==== ) For my Takamine "Lawsuit" I bought in Nashville in 1982.
0
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 10:30 PM UTC
Wood and Wire ###====(==O==== )
Just mahogany and horsehide glue, machine heads and a ***** or two. Plywood top, solid sides and back, bone and fake ivory, ebony, and shellac. Steel and bronze wire, to make her ring. A well placed sound hole to let her sing. But for love or money I played here every week, for 30 years she has earned my keep. Four star restaurants, or beer soaked bars, or serenading a lover under summer night stars. A joyous birthday, sad funeral of a friend, she's always been there, on one I can depend. Drunken'- Dancin' New Years Eve bashes, barbequed sun baked poolside splashes. St. Valentine's Day love songs, wine and roses, or a smoky old blues club that never closes. A nursing home sing along on St. Patty's day, a hurricane party till we all got blown away. Christmas carols by soft candlelight, I've played this guitar most every night. From Florida to Canada, Vegas to NYC, from Frank Sinatra, to Conway Twitty. Zeppelin to Bach, JT to Pink Floyd, anything to keep me from being employed. One night in Nashville Greg Allman played on her, And asked me to join him, oh what an honor. We make people happy, we bring them together, when I play on her I am as light as a feather. Some fell in love, and got married from our tunes, some nights we're alone on sugar beach dunes. She's filled up my tip jar, and filled up my heart. Because of this guitar my life got its start. I've sat up with her all night, when she was sick, changed strings a million times, broken many a pick. Caressed her, strummed her, as she dashed my fears, cussed her and ****** her, as she tasted my tears. With her I wooed my lover, until she married me. She has been my addiction, and she has set me free. They applaud for me, but she's really the star. I know it's just wood and wire, but she's my guitar. ###====(==O==== )###====(==O==== ) ###====(==O==== ) For my Takamine "Lawsuit" I bought in Nashville in 1982.
Continue reading...
42
The first time I cussed at my mother, The words **** you’ formed a cannon that exploded From my mouth, The recoil instantly punched me with guilt. I almost doubled over, Holding the cell phone in a sweaty palm. Her breath shortened, a tight inhale of abuse, And then a dial tone, That held more reproach Than my callous words ever could.
0
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 5:38 PM UTC
Swear Words
I guess it's the end of my need for some **** I guess all I got is thid lsd      Gee, but really what care, I'm not even hear teleport to the couch, met a pink bear, he ate all my hair, **** In my eye he cussed not to cry, MR BEAR! mr bear you think I wont trip? one hell of a fry, YOU **** IN MY EYE! back to the room bad trip oh woah doom, hit my head 'Jingle~       ;oh yea and I'm single hey mr. spider, lend me your lighter back in an hour, I thaught you died in the shower?. itsy? bitsy? , I'm just rather ditsy.. wait why am i wet?....................... all for one bet, ;)_    jesse mckush
0
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 9:33 PM UTC
can't get a hit, I'm down for a trip, Wasnt going to publish this terrible
I had a conversation with my mom last night. Grandpa is not well, she told me. He's dying, is what I heard. So am I, I thought. I ate dinner with my friends and their kids tonight. I needed 2 years to heal from one of my first break-ups, she told me. So do I, I thought. I screamed at God or you or maybe both tonight. You're an ***** I yelled until my sobs cut my screams off. So am I, I thought. I wept in a friend's bed tonight. He's not making healthy choices, she told me. So am I, I thought. I watched the stars and sat outside while I cussed out God and you both tonight. You lied to me and I needed you, I sobbed. So do I.
0
May 29, 2019
May 29, 2019 at 1:35 AM UTC
The Grief Within
My diary bit me last night It bit my hand then lunged for my throat So I tore it’s pages to shreds and lit fire My memories, some not missed, but most will be. It screamed and cussed as it burst into flames Thrashed and trashed its outer cover While still aiming for my throat I sat back and found another book As I wrote I promised I’d come back when the flames died The diary still wearing itself out Other books said I lie, but my promise I would keep No matter how scuffed up the cover turned out
0
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 7:32 PM UTC
My Confidante
In a little roadhouse off the beaten tracks is where I did find her. She was riding with the hells angels till they kicked her out for being to ruff. And yet at seventeen the way she could down a budweiser and burb hello ****** Was a site to be held and i thought to myself as she broke a pool cue over a man's head who played a song she didnt like I knew i had met the woman of my dreams. Sure she drank like a fish cussed like a sailor and hit like a frieght train. But aside from all thoose good qualitys I like in a woman she did have her hang up's. Its kinda bad when your first date involves knocking over a seven eleven and leading on the cops on a five state chase. And Im not bitter she didnt slow down to let me off. Im mean the road rash wasnt that bad and I needed to drop a couple of pounds of course it gives a whole new meaning to burning off the pounds. And when I saw her about two months later I could tell there was something there as she held a knife to my throat and looked into my blood shot eye's and said. Im gonna cut out your tongue out if you dont buy me a beer. Yes this beer drinking spitfire had me at hey what the **** you lookin at ****** ? What a true lady indeed. Yes when i finally came outta a coma after that first night togather i knew. That i probaly shouldnt drink outta open containers. Or carry cash or major credit cards. When going out with a five foot three spifire named Skeeter.
0
Mar 19, 2010
Mar 19, 2010 at 5:56 PM UTC
Beer Drinking Woman/How I Met Skeeter
There was a frog down in the swamp Who'd leap a half a mile I chased that sunday entrée With all my skill and guile But when I speared that monster bull I had a weird hunch Those bulging eyes were warning me I sure would hate my lunch It ain't always a gourmet cook Who serves the very best I fried those twitching muscles there And ate each bite with zest But a funny feeling took-a-holt That made me want to jump Soon I felt me start to crave A cool place for my **** I found myself a boggy bank And did a healthy croak I bent my legs and leaped a block And thought my *%$#@X!!# back was broke I learned my lesson messing with That cussed hoodoo frog I sit safe on my pillow now And don't go near the bog But I'm still haunted by the hex That ****** old frog applied And I'm still getting Blue Cross For a tender underside
0
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 5:58 PM UTC
HOO DOO FROG
Come I’, Sit daahn, Shurrup, Wor t' fust thin 'a' ah 'eard. So ah grabbed uz buk fra t' back. ‘n prepared for summa’ absurd An exam ont’ fust day ah exclaimed! As uz face exploded wi’ rage Ah dead eyed ‘im fra across t’ room ‘n reluctantly turned t’ page T’ year continued like ‘dis, ‘n uz nem appeared ont’ board ‘n ta quote wah’ I’d learnt fra’ uz studies, Ah felt wretched ‘n abhorred Tahhm passed by, ‘n 'e 'n class began ta connect. n suddenly 'a' dislikin, turned inter respect. Tahhm went furtha, as 'e yelled 'n laughed 'n cussed, ‘n suddenly ‘a’ respect, turned inter complete trust. ‘e’d lern wee randa facts, ‘n sha wee gormless vids. 'e’d respect wee li' adults, 'n nivva' treat wee li' kids. 'n even when ah wor glum, ‘n wasn’t feelin missen, ‘e’d finn' eur way ta use 'is words ta nurse uz back ta 'ealth. ‘n when 'e sez 'e wor leavin, everybody’s 'eart cried, We didn’t want ta seh tarreur, teur t' bloke who’d bin ah guide Sa t' best we can doa is come togetha, ‘n gatha orl wee folks. 'n wish t' best o' luck ta ah ‘un 'n onny, Yorksha bloke.
0
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 3:35 PM UTC
T' Yorkshire bloke.