"cusses" poems
black girl
burnt fingertips on blunts and radio knobs
singing along to the words
pretending to fall in love
black girl
stuck with scratches
ashes
burnt skin
a taste for
female friends that benefit
black girl
can't hide her DNA
as easily as her true colors
black girl best friend
back girl white for a black girl
black girl lives on the north side
has a side girl on the south
black girl plays blues
bumps Kings of Leon
and Future
wondering which of the two
will be her future
black girl
never cusses in front of her sister
even though all she says is
'fuck it'
black girl white car
black girl no license
black girl speeds
black girl art school
black girl need scholarship
black girl raps
and forgets the words
black girl gossip girl
black girl breaks cigarettes
black girl never laughs at me when I think she will
black girl psh
black girl so much better
than who she thinks she is
black girl can't take a compliment
won't take credit
black girl so beautiful
black girl never pays for drugs
but gets high every night
black girl sometimes makes me jealous
sometimes I want to make
black girl jealous
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 3:27 AM UTC
Bobo's kitchen
in the kitchen
icebergs rampage from the freezer
burying pizzas and waffles
in a glacier jungle
Bobo swings forks and knives
at the ice until the maintenance man
cusses in Polish
gallons of water
dripping downstairs
sizzling Bertalina's soul
the fiery bilingual single mom
living in fear
below his fear
of noise complaints
she sends tape recordings
to the landlord in her
cute red faced anger
loud people! and bongos!
guitars! stomping! laughter!
nightmares for her boys
who think they hear ghosts
her tight black spandex
drives Bobo mad when she runs
drifted scents of her food
sift in through his windows
knocking him out
in hungry frustration!
¿Como estás? he asks her
I speak ******* English! she barks back
back up the stairs Bobo goes
to his own kitchen where
the mice crawl out the stove tops
and potatoes grow tree roots
clear through the window
toward another life
Jake Mahaffey
Copyright (c) 2013 Jacob Mahaffey
Jan 23, 2012
Jan 23, 2012 at 12:28 AM UTC
i don't appreciate the stairs i walk on every single day. sometimes, i complain that point A to point B is too far for me to walk. i don't appreciate the rain that suddenly comes after many sunny days. the water wets my shoes and leaves my socks soaked. sometimes i walk around campus and wonder what i'm doing with my life. i always feel so lost. i look around and see unfamiliar faces. faces holding all types of emotions. i find that beautiful. i also find it beautiful that every bystander becomes part of your life, because for some reason, you and them are in the same place at the same time. it's even more beautiful when it happens in the most natural way. As if, it was meant to be. how crazy is it that two worlds can cross paths to become one? but there are worlds that keep on moving parallel to each other. I look around and see life. I see that i need to appreciate more. Appreciate the elevator that takes too long. The professor that cusses at 8 o'clock in the morning during class. Appreciate those who smile at you when walking through crowded hallways. Appreciate the idea that everyone is living so complex, just like me. Appreciate the hustle. Appreciate the process. Appreciate the unknown. Appreciate whats in store for me. Appreciate knowing and not knowing all at once. Appreciate the growth. Appreciate the balance that appears after the unbalance. Appreciate me. Appreciate another day. Appreciate life.
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 11:16 PM UTC
The chicken baulked, "Phaulk!"
Before Latin chose to roll around,
And the "Librarian's sound, it"
Has been through pursed lips
Oedipus was clapping cheeks,
Long before Middle English clapped any,
When lions and tigers and bares
Were the prime predators
Even in The Garden,
Snake said as,
As snakes say as,
Where the language of choice I know,
Not to be English.
And if your dainty, sky-locked eyes soul and mind,
Remain unfazed by kid killers, or rampant rapers,
But try to censor my ******* ****
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 5:58 PM UTC
The iron fist
A name that should be capitalized
The name alone makes one shiver
Shiver like freezing water being thrown on you
Not like the ice challenge
Like your mother throwing gallons on you
While your in the tub
She makes you lay there
You beg for her to stop
She doesn't and grabs a switch instead
Not the small ones either
The ones that are extra thick
She pours
You begs
She stops and cusses
"Shut the **** up or I'll get more water"
You cry silently
Hoping she'll stop
She grabs the switch off the toilet
She whips your *******
Stomach
Arm
You turn
She whips your back
****
Even your feet
You scream for a god that's not there
"Shut the **** up!"
WHIP!
You cry silently
She goes away
You jump out of the tub
Run naked into your room
Lock the door
The iron fist knocks
"Open this **** door"
You weep"Go away mommy"
She kicks the door down
Punches you down
Chokes you
Gets up
Grabs her gun
Puts it in your mouth
Tells you stop crying or you die
"Mommy don't"
"Shut up! You think this is a game?"
"No mommy!"
She lifts you up
"Stop crying you ***** Or you'll be dying tonight"
You stop but still whimper
She drops you and leaves your room
No words were said for the rest of that night
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
Heart's been broken
The story ended
On how a misspoken
Word cannot be translated.
I couldn't say that I loved you first
Nor could I say that I loved you last
And now I'm planning things I shouldn't do
Like saying, that I hated you too?
So, just ignore the bad words here
My mind is already ****** up
The cusses were once holy too
But the people kept messing things up.
So I never had the time to say:
"I'm ******* in love with your demon soul"
I was craving for pleasure
Begging for blood, more specifically.
I said I was in pain! No, no. I am the pain
So just die in a hole
Let the worms eat you
Let me touch you
I wanna be alone
I want you to be here with me
I want you to die
I want you to kiss me
I want you to fall, hardly.
I want you to stay.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 2:59 AM UTC
Family hate that's just great
Aunt cusses out a persons morals
Not believing but full of it
Questioned actions because of th wrong
Turned into a feud like this battle meant to happen
Bros fighting not talking
Got physical before the wall of silence got built
Mother who instigates hates on others happiness
All perfection ruined by one pointed flaw
Sister talks big but cries her way out of trouble
Grandmothe verbal abuse generation to generation and the next cycle of crazy
Alcohol empowers the weak
Drugs to stimulate fake emotions
Sobriety stuck in the war doing good judge like evil coil do no wrong
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 9:16 PM UTC
I am a result
Of not two people
I am a result of advertisements
Of politicians
Of company's
Of ideas drilled into my head, by constant repotion and threats from authority figures
I am a result of headlines that scream the words **** death, racesim and terror.
I am a result of built up hopes.
The countless movies that show us heros that conqure the impossible, while slowly walking away form an explosion.
The comic books that boldly display abilitys we then dream of.
Expectations we are forced to have that someday we will save the world.
I am the result of reality hitting you full on like a world saving superman punch,
I am the result of relizing, that there is a 99.9999999999% chance I am not the "chosen one"
I am the result of an enviroment where I have to hold my breath to not let the toxins in
The overdose headlines
The children I see inhaling away there future and when I walk by blowing it in my face
I am the result of an overdose that ripped away my uncle
A world filled with misery and we find this the best way to "cure" it.
I am a result filled with images of diffrent family's breaking apart, leaving broken children behind.
A result witnessing the hurt, homeless and heartless walk on the same ground but don't awknoladge it
The veterans thrown to the streets
The gay pride rainbows coverd in the dark clouds of pregiduce this world is shadowed by
The sour taste of racesim lingering on individual tongues trying to break through a wall of common sense
The weaponising of wonderful wise wishful young children around the world to creat a fearful, fierce, fiery killing machine
I am a result of this world, the mistakes we all make, the suffering we all take, the lives these mistakes put at stake, these wounds that ache, the cusses that spin in children's head thanks to drake, these politicians people see as lying snakes, this earth that quakes, that brings us awake
I am a result, in a world of results
Of hope that one day we can push these fears away
I am a result of an army of dreamers
A horde of lovers
And a croud of carers
I am a result of two people who tried hard enough to make a difference
They are my sheild and my sword equipping me to fight this poisend world
We are what's left we are the dreamers the workers and the lovers and once were done fighting away the hurt, evil,terror and pain,
We can look out on this world and call it
Our result
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC
*let me play with tongues
of sins and forgiveness
where words slip and lips utter
verses & cusses,
altogether!
and I am of heavy influence
pray then sin - and viceversa!
for the next ninety-nine days,
I am the holy angel but a mere devil*
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
Look, there goes the Alley cat
Hear her strangled meowing
It don't beguile, for it is vile
Much like a sewer flowing
Ladies of the evening
Women of the street
Would blush and be embarrassed
To hear such trick or treat!
I'm upset, cuz I don't get
How that foul mouth can EAT!
But there's a strange compulsion
Which comes like a deluge
Her smiles gay, but don't defray
The *Battle of the BULGE*
Like felines she vocalizes,
Is her life like that?
If she's raw, and long of claw,
Is she like a cat?
How far will she let you?
How far will she GO?
Perhaps she battles demons
No-one else can KNOW
Myself, I can't condemn her
She had substance abuse
But she's not free, cuz she can't see
That SCINO'S not the TRUTH!
And she's a Public Figure!
Little girls look up to her!
She doesn't seem to know this
Did it not occur?
She cusses like longshoremen
Refuses to see
That she's made a grave mistake
In Scientology.
Does she believe they're helping?
This Science of the Mind?
Lord above! If she does
Then she's completely BLIND!
You're responsible, my lady.
Do you know that you teach?
The modern young, and they *become
The little slaves you PREACH!*
Miscavige isn't awesome
Scientology's *NOT "COOL".*
It's wicked beyond belief!
You're being *played the FOOL!*
Whatcha gonna do, girl?
You're an ingenue no more.
Do you doubt? *Gigs DO RUN OUT*
Will you play the *****
"Ah, NO!" You may be thinking
From my stance I shant tumult!
A cow, I'll graze, I'll be unfazed!
There's always the CULT!
But, dear, a storm's a'brewin
A tsunami of *greatsize*
They pamper you and praise you
But it's a *web of LIES!*
What will you do when flooded?
Will you weep and cower?
David's boat won't stay afloat!
It ain't no IVORY TOWER!
Baby, don't you get it?
Or are you just that THICK?
You will die, and then you'll FRY
A moth unto a WICK.
God has a sense of humor
Yep. He surely DOES!
AND YOU WON'T BE PROTECTED.
He don't help folks "just because...
My advice? For what it's worth?
I'll put in my two cents.
Leave that God forsaken CULT!
GET HUMBLE AND REPENT!!!
Sugar, whatcha stay there for?
Their ratings goin' SOUTH
Just believe and you'll receive...
Then, *clean up your MOUTH!*
Catherine Jarvis
aka SoulSurvivor
(C) 3/20/2017
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 5:50 AM UTC
bitter winds bite
a desperate heart
as early darkness
unsheathes winter's
slivering moon
the perfect
celestial sickle
threatens to thresh
exposed digits
wayward trundlers
heaving bulky
sacks of woe
scutter down
the city's
darkest
side streets
making haste
to the only
lighted room
that still
welcomes them
cots boast
lumpy clots
of errant springs
and jagged hooks
grappling the lodger
atop a mattress
in bumpy knots of
institutional green
coughs and snores
cusses and laughter
sighs and tears
all ceaseless
prayers
some mumbled
some shouted
some thought
some roared
some farted
some cried
some sung
speaking mutely of
the weighty day
resenting new
hard memories
hoping for a
dreamless sleep
Friends Shelter
NYC
12/31/08
jbm
Music Selection: Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers: Moanin
Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 9:51 PM UTC
panhandling daily
sympathy cards all used up
tired of all this
slashes his wrists then sits down
on the curb eating pizza
his blood dripping down
his mind is on the pizza
does not care to live
EMT's take him, fix him
72 hour hold
dude's a survivor
gets psyche evaluation
returned to the streets
proudly bragging about it
to anyone who listens
came to my office
asking my friend for some change
friend's a minister
rejected, the dude cusses
picture of humility
he doesn't ask me
he knows what my answer is
done enough for him
all I can do is just wait
then spray the air freshener
Apr 1, 2010
Apr 1, 2010 at 9:42 AM UTC
The Easter Bunny is a friend of mine
He used to lay his eggs in my back yard
But once I moved, it got to be too hard.
We’ve been buddies a long, long time.
It’s all my fault he visits me no more
He had to make it from Kansas to Nome.
That is far too long a trip for him
But, that is where I bought my home.
He was a pretty good old boy, indeed
For all his reproductive strangeness.
He was sort of like a football player
In a long lavender red carpet dress.
Harder to me, to accept whole cloth
Was what he had to do with Jesus.
But as a magic rabbit, for sure
He could lay eggs as he pleases.
So, every year during springtime
Here came my friend the bunny.
He’d **** out colored eggs, he did,
And nobody thought it’s a bit funny.
That he’s six feet tall, like Harvey,
Cusses like a sailor makes me laugh.
But that he is a Christian symbol is
Not really reasonable by about half.
Still, who am I to quibble about tradition?
It is fun for everyone at this time of year.
Along comes this unscientific miracle
And the kids smile from ear to ear.
They run around collect these eggs
That to me often looked rather scary
And do not question the bunny tale
Like Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 2:50 PM UTC
So they cut
These words
Like the blade that sung your melody
As you cast it from your razor
Or your plethora of phrases
Come backs
Snarky remarks
And stainless steel
Like frost bitten angels we wail
And spit words like knives
If insults could sever arteries
We'd be less
Left
For dead
So we cut
With shaking hands and quivering jawlines
We cut with our moms good sewing scissors
And bitter cusses
And self defecating tunes
To save our souls from being cut by someone else
We are our own
Worst enemy
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 7:15 AM UTC
Sectors of time
I walk this road each mile is a section is it me or is the timber changing to beams that strut up on both
Sides and close over the top my vision my reality now cube like I see the vistas beyond the crown of
The mountains they are contrary cusses to the sky poking making holes in the blue then they gather the
Clouds about in a mist of garland do I not hunger for your heights of wonder break out of this square
Feel and know the free liberation of exhilaration from drawing breath from clean boisterous air you
Have plenty to spare I would rise from the ashes as the phoenix to new life whatever it takes I must
Break free my blood burns with passion for new experiences I have accepted this square I have seen
Others in similar shapes the familiar the comfortable all too often becomes a trap when just beyond
Their limitations boundless borders exist your masterful game awaits your participation you hold the
Keys that can unlock doors that have been tightly shut a burgeoning knowing has been the cause of
Much restlessness a different and true angle of vision gives you the impetuous to strike out at your
Confinement the old saying comes to mind a square peg in a round hole the freeing the running
That never tires only brings you to the finest quality of life you have ever known it takes you to question
The norm draw truth by astuteness when it reveals itself even if it is just small glimpses this is the crack
That works unseen by each impulse and strain you have made the inner knowing never accepts second
Best you were a divine dream created in perfection then through small thinking lack of courage and faith
That wavered instead of pressing on you end up in a wilderness instead of your part of paradise its not
To late pick up the pieces now wiser place the pieces together from the joy they release take the stand
that will break the remaining restraints your ideal life awaits your choice will decide you have the proof
now win the test go out from all restrictions and fill the world with your particular freedom and blessing
so many are still enslaved they need your voice
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 5:46 AM UTC
It initiates its attack with a fiery assault to the chest
Showering the heart with acidic downpour
The disease spreads slowly into the victim’s bloodstream
Making it boil with envious hatred
The eyes become a permanent squint of mistrust and hostility
Skin begins to change with a bright, green spectacle
Canines are bared in horrible snarls
The person’s speech becomes bitter and low
Consisting mostly of cusses and speeches of negativity
Infectious jealousy runs rampant
And in no small part to that horrid sickness
The Emerald Virus
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
when I enter Baskin-Robbins in the hood
so many flavors of sin
none good
for the health of Ben or Jerry.
Where I get cussed at by those
behind me in the line
because I tarry in deciding,
I grin, step back, and say, ummmmm,
Then I cause vanilla freezes and strawberry cheesecake and rocky roads to melt as a twelve year old behind me in line
cusses like a sailor.
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 5:35 PM UTC
every good boy leaves because in the end, i
am not what they wanted at all.
they wanted white-picket-fence springtime girls, who wear dresses and smile like innocence and blush when you hold their hand in public, shy.
not me. not rose-thorn walls and ****** teeth. not a girl who cusses and fights and claws at anything that lashes out at her. not a girl who won't let them fight her battles and stands on her own, lacing her fingers with yours because you are hers and she will fight tooth-and-nail for you, and she wants everyone to see that.
they want someone they can settle down with and have a nice, cute house and a pretty cherry tree and pretty little kids and have homemade breakfasts and listen to the birds sing in the morning.
they do not want a girl who sleeps till noon and drags them off on wild adventures and wants to go everywhere. who hates the shrill chirping of birds and uses black curtains to hide from the sunlight daring to slide through her windows. Who can't cook to save her life and holds on far too tight.
no, i am not what you wanted. but i can't be anyone else.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 8:54 PM UTC
I just want plain old you. I don't need no trappings. Simple plain jane.
I just want the you that wakes up in the morning
Having drooled on your pillow.
The you with morning, and coffee, and ciggarette breath
The you who puts her hair up when she doesn't feel like dealing with it
The you who sits next to me in sweats and one of my torn up t-shirts
Eating Ice Cream
and falling asleep on my shoulder
The you who doesn't always say goodnight or I love you
The you who gets mad and cusses and yells
I mean...who doesn't
I've just come to realize
That the plain old you
Is my favorite you
Nothing plain about you
You don't have to try to knock my socks off, good lookin'
Whether your walking to me or away...I like to watch your hips sway
Going to and fro
Ain't it a sight!
Lookin' in your eyes
Well, there's nothin plain about those eyes
Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 8:00 PM UTC
I am not who I seem
I will never be that girl from your dream.
If you start to care
You'll see what isn't there
You will see past that girl who wears black and scowled at pink and dresses
Wants to be a rebel
Wants to be a badass
Wants to be cool
You will learn to see past that exterior
You will know I'm not all attitude and insults
You will realize that that girl who cusses and fights isn't all there is
Then maybe you'll see deeper.
There's another girl
One who wants to dress up
Feel pretty
Wants to be a princess
Someone who wants to be like the people she admires
A little girl who wants to be cute with a guy
Someone who wants to skip around and be one of those lead people in the movies
Someone who cares
Loves
Laughs
Appreciates beauty in butterflies
Tries to help her friends
Loves very easily and quickly
Deep down you'll see that I'm actually a fragile softie who cares too quickly
Gets hurt too easily
And apologizes too much.
Even below that is the person who is unhappy
The one who is self hate
Stupidity
Recklessness
Self-destruction
The little sad girl that slits her skin and cries herself to sleep
But maybe I you manage to survive all that without letting all my **** destroy you (like it has so many others)
Then maybe
Just maybe
You'll get to meet Them
The part of me that created the 5 minute death game
The part that looked up how to tie a noose
And the one that collects pills
The self torturous part
Not just the fel pitying part
And then maybe if you manage to get through all of that you will find my heart
Cut up
Shattered
Bruised
Scarred
Stitched
And infected
Chained to the walls I build around myself
Pulling me apart
The heart that has bullet holes and battle wounds
The one leaving blood stains on what was my soul
The black mass of hell that is at the center of my being.
An if you're stupid enough, you'll make me love you.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 4:29 PM UTC
This place, with its cold white walls and it's sterile gray speckled floors.
The nurses take my mouth that cusses far too often as a sign I'm on some kind of drugs, I guess. When I answer the question about what kind of medicine I take they look at me with questions in their eyes when I say "none."
I know that the bruises on my body look bad. I'm malnourished, okay. I don't have time to eat. Need more potassium. I don't shoot up ****** or snort pills. I just take ibuprofen like a normal person.
My head is spinning. But not like normal. Like it's taking me twenty minutes to write this ******* poem. I feel like passing out.
And the doctor will see you now, at the cost of 1,000 dollars to sit in this dumb bed.
I hate our healthcare system.
Why do hospitals feel so much like your trapped in their walls? And so little like they're actually out to help you.
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 1:44 PM UTC
drinks and cusses like a sailor
holds her own with
spiders in the shower
makes her own breakfast
cleans the dishes she uses
spends her money at Dollar General
likes cats and dogs
drinks whiskey and smokes ***
so my beer and ******* are all mine
has a trimmed heart above her *****
and only one tattoo
a heart on her left breast
no metal in her thing
a dad and mom that she still
talks to
an ex who pays child support
children who are almost
perfect little saints
who is not afraid to
put me in my place at times
likes Baseball
and once wrote a dissertation
for her PHD about the differences
between Socialism and liberalism
and drives a Vette.
A 1988 Chevette!
I knew her a
long time ago.
Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 9:07 PM UTC
Sectors of time
I walk this road each mile is a section is it me or is the timber changing to beams that strut up on both
Sides and close over the top my vision my reality now cube like I see the vistas beyond the crown of
The mountains they are contrary cusses to the sky poking making holes in the blue then they gather the
Clouds about in a mist of garland do I not hunger for your heights of wonder break out of this square
Feel and know the free liberation of exhilaration from drawing breath from clean boisterous air you
Have plenty to spare I would rise from the ashes as the phoenix to new life whatever it takes I must
Break free my blood burns with passion for new experiences I have accepted this square I have seen
Others in similar shapes the familiar the comfortable all too often becomes a trap when just beyond
Their limitations boundless borders exist your masterful game awaits your participation you hold the
Keys that can unlock doors that have been tightly shut a burgeoning knowing has been the cause of
Much restlessness a different and true angle of vision gives you the impetuous to strike out at your
Confinement the old saying comes to mind a square peg in a round hole the freeing the running
That never tires only brings you to the finest quality of life you have ever known it takes you to question
The norm draw truth by astuteness when it reveals itself even if it is just small glimpses this is the crack
That works unseen by each impulse and strain you have made the inner knowing never accepts second
Best you were a divine dream created in perfection then through small thinking lack of courage and faith
That wavered instead of pressing on you end up in a wilderness instead of your part of paradise its not
To late pick up the pieces now wiser place the pieces together from the joy they release take the stand
that will break the remaining restraints your ideal life awaits your choice will decide you have the proof
now win the test go out from all restrictions and fill the world with your particular freedom and blessing
so many are still enslaved they need your voice
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 6:21 PM UTC