"cutthroat" poems
the barker in charge
is sniffing markers
& the dog's the one
in the shock collar.
good god.
I'll come back
tomorrow.
galapagos, I'm sorry.
rocketship jalopy
wrote a handbook on
banana boat cutthroat
reconnaissance exotica,
abominable
beast of tropic atrophy
broke folk casualty engulfed
in telescopes & TV shows
being monitored thru a monocle
the theatrical apathy & topical misanthropy
can anybody understand me?
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 8:47 PM UTC
The Persian Chessboard
as the story goes, it happend in Persia
could have been India, or even in China
the King was bored, so he looked for someone wiser
the Grand Vizier, being the principle advisor
entertain me the King said, challenge my senses
I need something different, I'm tired of burning fences
the Vizier scratched his chin, and stared straight ahead
how about a new game, where you have to use your head
we'll use moving pieces, on black and white squares
the King will be the major piece, the rest nobody cares
capture the opponents King, to make him surrender
be careful of the others, the ones who are pretender
we can call it 'shahmat', or death to the King
and when this death is proclaimed, everybody sing
the final move is checkmate, there will be no place to run
the game sometimes in real life, the loser had no fun
the pawns and the knights, each one fell to the side
eventually then an added piece, the King's special bride
the Queen was entered in, she also had some power
she was just as deadly, cutthroat behind you in the shower
the King was very pleased, he granted Vizier a treasure
he told him, pick your price, anything you pleasure
the Vizier tried to trick the King, he made mistake instead
the game lived on and on, but the Vizier turned up dead
Gomer LePoet...
Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 1:17 PM UTC
First, you have get to an email address
and then fashion a sculpture
out of daisies and moonbeams
as a wedding present for your love;
practice your poetry because
it will come in handy when tongue tied;
pentameter is a pocket ace
and the game is cutthroat so you’re
gonna wanna have some ready;
calisthenics are required
as is having the right politics
but dissimilar guacamole preferences
are usually alright for awhile;
be sure to develop a tolerance
for sand between your toes;
learn to frolic, but never skip;
don’t buy a boat because nobody
has time for a sweater cape enthusiast
and drowning is very unromantic;
Grow roses and cook eggs every way
you can but ever respect the bacon;
Practice looking longingly;
Toss your hair and brush your teeth;
**** your socks but carefully
maintain just enough flaws
to seem endearing and then
forget all this because the only
time you chose to fall is suicide
and it’s kind of like a bridge jump,
so it’s time to just lie back and enjoy
the dopamine rush while it lasts;
you’ve roped a unicorn,
the fleeting chemistry of
your synapses will thank
or blame you later.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 1:21 PM UTC
capsized beating purple algorithm
for a heart,
cross-nit aspirations
still taste dirt on my teeth,
the mission creep of eager eyed poets,
carry a briefcase with my levi's --
close cut cigarette encounters,
all brick shantytown of a friendship
them lovelies run on endless,
it's starting to get cold outside.
restless sprites circle our *****
exhaling greek mythopoeics
every sure footed step.
alcoholism echoes in my skin
a depth charge i cannot cut out,
we all have broken thoughts here,
all have blind spots in our stomachs,
they read like a preacher's insecurities:
burly things we warm ourselves with,
the winters sting bitter.
something is wrong with me,
sinkhole of ambition and honey kisses,
all the great thinkers **** themselves,
it's the staunch lack of spotlight,
way the earth drips lackadaisical-like
we just call it a perfect orbit.
shake my hand and feel a goldilocks pulse
anemic shards of a cornered animal,
we cut right
to the bone
here, or so we tell ourselves.
and love is always the answer?
that sure footed toothy angel
so beautiful, it couldn't just be our
churlish blood,
frothing and calming,
frothing and calming,
electrons rise and fall to create light,
they still circle an untapped atrocity
perfectly,
like this, like it must be
god
or something close. something
stopping them from running, free
from bonds ionic or otherwise,
bare feet
beating the pavement until there are
no more stones to throw.
firstborns of the universe,
each star is a setting sun,
blinks staggered,
still grew us up quicker than most,
there is no aphrodisiac like heliocentrism.
them bones cut good
doped up on oxytocin,
those empty thoughts still rattling,
dig sharp -- then nice and numb.
and we cutthroat and glossy,
sharper than ever.
walk outside
smoke a cigarette
know how much you love her,
look at the stars --
it's ******* beautiful isn't it
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC
There was quite a crowd gathered when I reached my apartment building that morning.
Lots of cops and Emergency Medical personnel gathered everyone was just standing around.
I asked Wild Bill what happened?
Not sure, think it came out apartment five.
What?
A blood-curdling scream, and long wailing, unnatural sounds.
Right then I knew it was bad.
The apartment was occupied by cutthroat junkies and their infant daughter.
Tony “The Hulk” came out first, bloodied, bleary eyed, staring at the ground
Rosalie “The Muse” came next, screaming hysterically in Spanglish... muttering broken Catholic novenas
last soaked in solemn silence, Inca “The Baby”,
covered in a sheet, silent, never to speak again, forgotten.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 6:38 AM UTC
the mighty may fall, but the weak fall faster. in this world of thieves and killers, to stand your ground means to cut them down. there is no hope for the frail of mind, the deviously cunning are all that survive. stand up and fight! i cannot help you now! countless times i have slain for you, laying to rest those that would do you harm, but its your turn now. i have done all i could to shield you, but the world will no longer allow my protection. it is throwing you into the pit with nothing but the knowledge i provided you with. as i watch with worried eyes, you stand on shaking legs, aware that to win this battle, you cannot fight fair, and your first defeat will be your last. only the hard survive in this cutthroat kingdom, where your castle becomes your tomb if you are not quick enough to defend it. i watch determination replace your fear as you remember my words and face your demons, striking them down one by one, gaining confidence with each swing of your sword. you understand now... i am gone, you must fight where i have failed, while i watch from above.. hoping ill see you soon yet praying that i wont. death was my final defeat.. now you must fight.
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
Forbidden fruits hidden in the roof
of my mind
Its time to set fire to the mimes
Larcenous pursuit of greater acclaim
than is taped and pasted to your brain.
Dripping copper pipes cold in the November light
bright shadows gently crush the fabric of unreality.
Love is a howitzer
it can **** alot of people
quickly and often.
Love is a pool of amniotic fluid,
it sustains and cushions, and soothes with warm comfort.
Cardboard cutouts of cutthroat gangsters with gout,
flout societies mores, with Cuban cigar smoke synthesis.
Brandy
snifterfull
Awaiting the dinnerbell.
Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 10:04 AM UTC
Biden means button
Kamala means Lotus
Trump means trumpet. sinister?
elaborate?
can words brainwash?
i am not a theorist, and if i were i would research this more...this my research of science, religion, politics, and how it keeps biting me...if you want to help make the world a whole, it is somehow going to with making this nation a whole...and other ones...the pie has so many pieces and doesn't feed itself...i...we...you need you...lets study with goals toward understanding...then we have more color in our vision...it is hard to be gentle when everyone i know in real life is a cutthroat zombie...they get crap theory and lies fed to them by tv and internet...if you ever see that i am wrong please let me know
Sep 9, 2021
Sep 9, 2021 at 12:11 AM UTC
Homesick or just sick
Unsettled by the clock's tick
Thinking of posters on my wall, of furry paws in my face
Longing for familiar footsteps in the hall, for discussions of grace
I want fangs and feuds and cutthroat nights
Not to look over my shoulder between homebound lights
Homebound, not for months and seasons
I want to call but I have no reason
Even my imagination left some things behind
They lived at home though I thought they lived in my mind
Now I feel truly alone
But who wants to hear untroubled youth moan?
Not sick for home but sick for my friends
An empty ache I don't think time can mend
And I won't feel better locked in this new room
Knowing I'll be gone when hometown flowers bloom
December, holidays, so far from home
For a frightened foolish freshman who wanted to roam
Afraid to move forward and out
Terrified whispers and tears masked by shouts
Same album plays again and again
Hoping some peace will find its way in
Maybe
If I just take the clock off the wall
Time would stop, or go back, and we'd forget it all
Tie our highway hopes tight with small road ropes
And collegiate walks back to high school talks
Could I dream
Awake
Alone
With you
I know it's true
But I can't imagine that you're lonely too
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
Crackling. Rocking. Crackling. Creaking and oscillating, a century old Mahogany Wood seceded to the paSsage of time.
Particles of sand, confounded by the Peninsula’s chaotic, blasting breeze now revealed a shade of burnt tar.
Outside of the second floor Maissonette, sways the rocking chair once warmed by Grandpa.
A Tactless, impatient, rhythmic Requiem Bashes near the wiNdow pane as the sunset falls Under the frame.
Empty Folklore presides like the Residue of a once lambent effigy… SwOosh. Hush!
Cocktails were a Preamble to lunch like diabetes to Nephropathy.
Corrosive Rhetoric seeped in to expose the ego of a Sommelier.
A smile would Parachute down when you needed it like Nicotine to remind that no Precedent had been set, just an Anomaly.
Cutthroat beginnings, this was no Analog man.
In grade school his Cosmos found Zion and “The world to come”.
This baby’s Cradle, abandoned High atop a mountain was blown by a Chinook towards the Atlantic.
“I was found swallowed in a stained Table cloth by Balkan children on a treasure hunt, with no Guarantee and no resignatIon. "
The boTtle narrates these chronicles and a smile parachutes down when you need it like nicotine.
Dionysus Crafted his accounts while most Garnered his spiels with Snide. As they witnessed dream remembrance; he thought his memory was Presumably accurate, and although his tales were triFling to the gathering audience, they became his Heliocentric history.
Calling me a young Galleon and handing me a map, Grandpa scanned his hand across the vast land
guaranteeing trEasure would be found if I had no resignation.
This Asinine assertion to my teenage sister Symbolized the Barring of her unheeding imagination by time and then a smile parachuted down just when she needed it like nicotine.
_TRF
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 11:13 AM UTC
we stick to together as children
but die all alone
they say "it's okay to be different"
"just don't be a clone"
but they lied to me
and they'll lie to to you too
the world hates different
the world hates you
and isn't fun to live in a world
where nothing is what it seems
there are kids on the streets
begging just to get by
and kids safe asleep
who are praying to die
and they preach acceptance
then declare your sentence
and the punishment's usually death
not death to the body
but death to the soul
death to the spirit
not death to the whole
the world is cutthroat
and we're all out of hope
so stop making art
and rip out your heart
or they're gonna do it for you
buy a nice suit
and don't try to be cute
and soon you'll become
complacent and numb
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 10:37 PM UTC
I am all too familiar an acquaintance with the shower floor
What once was my youthful escape from
The tumultuous beasts lying just outside the
Shower curtain
My favorite hiding place in a den of demons
Who were supposed to keep me safe
Have become a cutthroat reminder of
The soul reaching pain I’ve experienced
Underneath the endless stream of
steaming waterfall
Where my piercing screams of agony rang out
Once it sunk in that even the most convincing ruse of love could drown me
And leave me washed ashore with nothing but anguish choking my lungs
Where I had to watch helplessly as my contained ocean dotted with silky bubbles
Was overtaken by a tidal wave of crimson
That washed away a pure melody of laughter
That I never had the privilege to make
to my earshot
A pint size smile that never crossed my gaze
A love I will always carry but
could never give
What was once my sanctuary is now haunted with ghosts of grief
My once sweet escape is now what I’ll forever wish to flee.
Nov 28, 2023
Nov 28, 2023 at 11:46 PM UTC
I am a cold winter breeze,
and a sharp pulsating heat at the same time.
I can make the tips of your toes applaud your existence,
Or make the ducts of your eyes wish
that they had never been placed upon your body.
I'm tired.
Tired of fading into the sheets you made me cry into.
So now i'm not going to sit around and be another
broken,shattered species.
I'm just going to be a fierce ocean.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 2:53 PM UTC
You are the Titan of Tears,
Sobbing to the unforgiving milkman
Who breaks your ***** bottles
And feeds you curdled milk
From withering cattle.
He crunches around broken glass
With his scuffed leather boots on your front porch
As you watch from a hole in your bedroom wall,
Losing your first piece of dignity
And the last of the sanity carrying you since age ten.
You are the Titan of Tears,
Crying to the cutthroat poetess
Who refuses to send your estranged sister
A collection of misery soaked poetry.
She burns your insincere words in front of the mailbox;
Stanza by stanza the ash coats your mouth
Like lipstick for the ******
Spiraling into smoke as she walks away
Fast enough to lose her in the midst of your fit.
The Titan of Tears—
You whimper in torn apart doorways
To block out strangers who will never appear.
You, Titan,
Who only feels clean when flossing
In the harshest of summer storms
Because you believe your great God is washing
Sins out of your matted hair.
You, Titan,
Whose childhood feels never-ending like evening traffic.
Childhood is the milky smoke you witness
Seeping from your dying neighbor’s chimney;
Childhood stares at you
Like glassy eyed pigeons outside of your office window
As you weep into your cold black coffee, Titan.
Your lacking adulthood is full of sloppy attempts to silence
Barking dogs in your slush brain,
Pushing down the bile that rises in your flaking throat,
As water floods your eyes like a basement during Katrina
And feeding worms writhe out of your flared nostrils,
Covered in snot and blackened discharge.
You are the Titan of Tears;
Your weeping rivals Mother Mary’s ****** streaks.
Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 12:15 AM UTC
cut cute cuttlefish
cutthroat rotisserie
cuticle tickling
cutoff
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 12:35 AM UTC
Like a kaleidoscope
I see every color , shape ,& size
of what you want your dreams to be
But the technique of your mind
Won't allow your soul to think
Or to really shine
Its funniest how the most relevant things
Get left behind
In the dark
Not left to shine
Or to grow
But the earth still lives
The water still flows
Winds still blows
As the tree still grows
But will your love know
How you tip toe
And stay down low
Hiding from love
Keeping your feelings underground
Like a railroad
Instead hoppin on a sailboat
To the ocean of emotion
So you can float
But it's cutthroat
When your love played
Like a **** joke
Then my words choke
And I can't spit the vowels out
My **** throat
Now in everyone else eyes
Ima **** joke
Now to you, I see different views
Through this kaleidoscope - ET
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 2:42 AM UTC
The Persian Chessboard
as the story goes, it happened in Persia
could have been India, or even in China
the King was bored, so he looked for someone wiser
the Grand Vizier, being the principle adviser
entertain me the King said, challenge my senses
I need something different, I'm tired of burning fences
the Vizier scratched his chin, and stared straight ahead
how about a new game, where you have to use your head
we'll use moving pieces, on black and white squares
the King will be the major piece, the rest nobody cares
capture the opponents King, to make him surrender
be careful of the others, the ones who are pretender
we can call it 'shahmat', or death to the King
and when this death is proclaimed, everybody sing
the final move is checkmate, there will be no place to run
the game sometimes in real life, the loser had no fun
the pawns and the knights, each one fell to the side
eventually then an added piece, the King's special bride
the Queen was entered in, she also had some power
she was just as deadly, cutthroat behind you in the shower
the King was very pleased, he granted Vizier a treasure
he told him, pick your price, anything you pleasure
the Vizier tried to trick the King, he made mistake instead
the game lived on and on, but the Vizier turned up dead
Gomer LePoet ...
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 7:34 AM UTC
Pumpkin faced, fang toothed witch
plump chin, fake tan, broomstick
nose with warts, chosen devils cohort
courting the goat, a shoat cutthroat
cavorting devote to the angel turncoat
tilted head back with the eerie cry 'halloween is nigh'
why she's dressed up 10 days early i'll never know why
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC
love me when it's convenient
love me when it is useful
love me when love is necessary
on the terms that
i stay simple, i stay beautiful
love me because your mother thought
i was pretty, i was quiet
love me because your father looks at me
like a ***** successful diet
love me until i’m not always sweet
love me until it’s not easy enough
leave me at the station
kiss me like your lips
have become strangers
just for me
and wish me luck
love me until somebody else better comes along
love me until i misstep to the words of the song
love me until those nights
you see me when i’m not strong
love me until it’s not profitable
until it rubs you wrong
my words are no longer useful
when they are not lucrative
your eyes are no longer protective
they are punitive
i am no longer a friend
just the tail end of another
distended friendship ready to
split hairs and end it
not a person but a thing
not a person but a problem
you’ve been dissecting
you don’t want to bend back
and mend, it’s easier to
wait it out, pretend away the tension
show your teeth, your venom’s condescesion
not so lost in your eyes
so resenting my mention
and i’ve been taught
not to stop giving
until you’re ready
for me to stop
and i’ve been trained
to drink up the blood when it puddles in
to treat people i attach love to
like my king pins
no one is just a lapsed vein
and i’ve been told
i’m not allowed to pull the plug
once i open my body
and let you dig into my love
so here i am, watch me now
to keep my ugly hidden
to keep my thoughts restrained
to keep the stains upon myself
cloistered and contained
by nature we are greedy
and you can’t seem to stop taking
because you’ve grown bitter dancing feet
and i'm aching, you say i'm not grounded
yet i’m a burden underfoot
and you wish i’d just break life
or break life in
and forget what it took
you want me to be punished
or you want me to go
you think i don’t know
oh you think i don’t know
you wish i’d just open,
then you wish that i’d fold
i don’t melt in the heat,
but i crack from the cold
your affection is grotesque
and my voice has a certain note
that makes you want to wrap each finger
tightly around my throat
you hate me, more than you love me
but i don’t want to be loved
if love barely stays afloat
you hate me, much more than you love me
and i was never told love
was so naturally cutthroat
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 1:22 PM UTC
You took everything
and returned to the scene
To take home some images of victory
and I knew too late what happend
Staring right into your eyes as the realization ended
All I could do was try to look anew
Attempting not to bleed right through
While I splashed about in shallow waters
I'll just have to learn how to go without
The shame in this game will never max out
and you left me there weeping
Sold me cutthroat trout
I ate it up
Gluttonously
Then spit out the bones of the person I used to be
She's so far from me
I ode to the quicksand beneath my feet
To the weasle who found a way into my keep
The racoon who robbed me so blind
and left me defiled morales
Now left behind and strung about
I graced him like a loser should
I fought but much too late I understood
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
How to start a conversation?
That's the question, isn't it?
Don't you dare try to tell me I forgot
What niceties bear the ***** of tightness
I'm here, aren't I?
So how are you? insipid
So where were you? cutthroat
So what can I call you murderer
Since you left?
I heard once
You broke formation, and told the wave of indifference you'd call me...
Where was that, that
Stuttering star sign
Supposed to make you divine for me?
The truth is I'm lonely,
But not worn, like
So many rocks in the ocean,
I think I prefer the company of schools of fish
And dark things from the sea
Than... Well
You know
But how to end a conversation?
You're the best at ending things.
Lonely? What's to be alone?
Better, you said it yourself,
Better than being apart.
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 7:33 PM UTC
So many, too many students had COVID two weeks ago. My parents were supposed to come for a visit, and midterms were on the horizon - so I decided to go ahead and get covid - to get it over with. I’ve been around a dozen people who later that day tested positive, but somehow I’ve never come down with it myself.
Peter caught it and was isolated in his suite (two of his suitemates had it). I went to see him, surreptitiously hoping he’d pass it on, but Lisa (the traitor) texted him and he Lysoled his entire suite and wouldn’t let me in - saying exposing me went against his “moral code.” rolling eyes
Now midterm season is on us and a lot of people I know are in crisis. That happens a lot in test times. This place is so cutthroat and competitive. You can get so deep in your own head that it becomes a ***** fish bowl of anxiety. The delightful cocktail of pandemic, WWIII and midterm stress gel, in some minds, to form a sweet, unhinging mix.
My major tests are over (good for me, yay for me!) but I’m not parking my study playlist just yet. I have a couple of papers due. While those don’t stress me like tests, they’ll keep me busy, like everyone else - there’s always a feeling of being behind it and frantically busy here.
We were trying to plan an actual, REAL spring break - that didn’t involve 11 hour layovers and 5 hour bus rides. Something NOT held in a parent’s apartment - someplace adult and private.
Then my Grandmère offered us an all-expenses-paid trip to Paris, saying I could bring three friends and stay at the Hotel de Crillon. A week in Paris with Lisa, Leong and Anna sounds delicious - of course, I told them how positively uncouth it would be to refuse - we’ll see.
Mar 12, 2022
Mar 12, 2022 at 12:04 PM UTC
When will you realize that I am no longer who I used to be.
You rid me of the hope I had and the beauty I used to see in this cutthroat world.
Every word and hit you landed on me made sure of that.
You did not let me grow up and instead pushed me into the shallow looking waters thinking I would survive.
And you're right I did.
But at what cost?
Only my humanity of course.
How ironic it is that you wanted me to thrive and pour gold out of my waking life.
When I came out burning from sulfur and ashes.
No warning and no mercy, no.
You never taught me what that was.
All the expectations and dreams set into my very being with no thought of what it would take.
I am not your saving grace nor your chance for another life.
I am not made for your salvation, to make up for what you could not have.
I have always been so much more than that.
You birthed me from fuel and soot.
I was never meant to be what you predicted.
So do not come to me with your expectations of obedience I will never yield to your maltreatment.
I will never be molded into what you want of me.
-Kore
Mar 19, 2021
Mar 19, 2021 at 2:14 PM UTC