"dankest" poems
Frosty the snowman is packing a fat bowl
In his Rockstar pipe he puffs and blows
Until all that's left is coal
Frosty the snowman has the nicest **** around
Oh but don't say so to the old 5-0
Or he'll beat your punk *** down
There must have been some magic in
That old *** bag he found
For when he took it to his head
He turned into a ******* snowman
O, Frosty the snowman
Smokes the dankest bud in town
But you wouldn't know you silly ***
Cuz the **** you smoke is brown
Frosty the snowman
Will green you out one day
You can say you're through
But it's oh so true
Cuz ***** Frosty don't play
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 1:22 AM UTC
Oh, my Medusa
That piercing, seductive stare
Gets me so rock hard.
"braullw nevae falls"
That's 'braille never fails',
Spelled by a blind man.
Matsuo Basho
Turns in his grave: first, five times
then seven, then five.
The dankest of ****
Floats slowly into my lungs
Oh wait...Asbestos.
hahaha ye boiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
yeyeyeyeye ye boiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
hehe wyd
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 10:30 AM UTC
Lovely lady of the night
Stars and you shining so bright
Do dearly show yourself to me
I cannot bear your mystery
Pale and crisp, of subdued hue
Your majesty in me, doth thoughts imbue
And nowhere on the blessed chain
Round earth will you too long remain
Deepest dankest darkness of the day
With your dark magic, never can it play
Your force too great, your pull stronger than seas
My fear at night, your brightness doth appease
And show me please your brilliance and your ore
As I to you, reveal my truest core
Of gold we both are made and one to test
Will we together be among the best
I know that to the sun you are betrothed
Unearthly marriage, yours here is ne’er exposed
The sparkle of the summer sun doth always fade
'fore you, bright one, come tumbling from its shade
All alone, you two do light my paths
One on one, in glory or in wrath
But query, I do have for one or both
If always separate why are thee betroth’d
In light in love in independence great
Each on its own doth true beauty create
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
In dreams
Allowing oneself
To be
Within
Without interruption,
Without distraction,
Without aberration,
Without confusion,
Is to dance among with stars of space
Void of the fear of the death.
In dreams
Swimming among the
Stellar ethers
Of interplanetary mysteries,
We see all that
Was,
All that can be,
But not,
All that will be.
Here we theorize
Or potentiality
Floating in the first and last
Of
Spaces.
But,
Because of fear,
We see such places as Death.
The deepest oceans
Hold monsters beyond imagination.
The darkest caves
Pits of fall jagged, wet, and sharp.
The dankest of houses
Holds pasts too painful to see.
Because of the fear of Death
We hold ourselves back
From being free.
A light in the dark
Is but
A comfort.
Trust oneself.
See through the dimness.
Let go.
All angels who have been
And are and will be
Have walked the dark road,
Washed in light when they arrive.
Are they they?
Are we we?
Am I you and you me?
Can it be
That we are the same,
Just molds of longitudinal and longitudinal
Circumstance?
Close your eyes and become
What you see.
Feel the cool water brush
Under your fingertips.
Above, the clouds break.
A shot of light.
Presence of a million souls unite.
We have been.
We are.
Do not let
The Fear of Death
Tell us
We Will Not Be.
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
I- I love Speggetti sauce
T- To The store I go for Dental Floss
A- A demonic possession ate my homework
L- Lately I've been learning how to home-twerk
Y- You could be the dankest of the dank lords
Just Like Shrek
Donkey!
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 2:42 AM UTC
From dankest monsters we desire increase,
That thereby Cthulhu's rose might never fly,
But as the ****** should by time travel,
His tender hare might bear(the bear would eat the hare though) his memory:
But thou, contracted ebola to thine own bright laser eyes,
Feed'st thy light's rave with self-substantial diesel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content
And, tender churl, makest waste in niggarding.
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 1:49 AM UTC
the god I love
doesnt hate me for anything
nor do i need to ask his forgiveness ever
sometimes he shakes his fist because i do things
burn my speeding ticket, "on accident"
its only ironic when youre on trial
ive got heads where fingers belong
ive got sharks that swim in salivary glands
ive got a whole world inside my head
weve both got five points to our fists
the world i love is bright enough for this life
heavens an un-necesity and a compartment for the beggars
my blood bleeds downstream
my **** is the dankest around
i know when my deaths close
the more the world welcomes me the further i get from my home
ive spent a couple centuries trying to find an angel
one day i looked down and saw the shadow of it
and i started wishing i wasnt afraid of heights
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 1:04 AM UTC
Locked away in the dankest corner
bloodied fingers frantically pawing the ground,
a lonesome girl of nineteen, distraught and weeping,
too afraid to utter a sound.
With filthy hair matted upon her forehead
and an eyelid that's split in two -
all she wears is linen rags tied around her waist
whereupon the crotch, ***** slowly seeps through.
It was always her dream to be a singer
to cherish a life of fortune and fame -
alas one nasty twist of events changed everything,
subjecting her to a life of abuse and excruciating pain.
Once a sweet little girl singing songs in the school yard,
now a schizophrenic teen, living in warped fantasy -
care workers leaving her to lie in her own faeces
as doctors discuss psychosis, and even lobotomy.
Fast-forward to seven weeks later,
wheelchair-bound, with nails so long they've began to curl,
gazing at this giggling black-eyed freak,
never would you believe it's the same girl...
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 3:59 AM UTC
Does not the rain kissed garden fair the fairer?
Untamed sunlight wouldst wilt the brightest flowers,
As love unchecked might bring to bear the bearer
And feast to bite the mind it swift devours!
When darkling clouds loom storm-like over thee,
Weather thy thunderous rage tho' thou detest it,
Love sallies hence and makes a bold decree:
"No cloud is e'er so dark love cannot best it!"
Light shines its brightest in the dankest dark,
The better then that thou should plainly view it,
So of each storm make light with thy remark:
"Love is the light and darkness shall renew it."
If thou wouldst doubt it so thou knows love not,
Love knows it still long e'er these lines forgot.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 10:40 PM UTC
A straight line delivers the illusion of control – the delusion manifested order could ever be kept in tow,
or manipulated reasoning
could ever take seed and grow
against the natural ebb and flow.
If each our mind a garden, work to see it bloom
full of luscious fruit capable of sweetening even the dankest, darkest glooms.
Savor that sweet, succulent juice as it drips from your lips and cascades
down
your
chin
To break from the mold, let go of control. To break from the mold, let go of control.
Apr 1, 2020
Apr 1, 2020 at 6:06 PM UTC
From the darkest and dankest of hells we happily rise. Free
From the ground we purge spirit no choice, only ours. Me
Across viscous, vast plains of brown we play. Searching
Across many broken bridges we trek once ***** Losing
Sinking and sinking until the grains of sand meet EYE. Waste
Sinking and sinking finally some rest from beats that pry. Haste
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC
I walk quietly into my own damnation
Not fire and brimstone with demons afoot
But the dankest pit fit for a suit of despair
Brisling with a whistling rage
Boiling discontent
With our slow movement
Our lack of improvement
Your grand amusement
Drunken stupidity
What a pity to see
That humanity
Brings out the sorrow in me
Perhaps tomorrow will be
Better
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
*Falling down a kaleidoscopic chasm
One you or I could never fathom
I like to keep my eyes closed
because that's when I see the rose
of this tribulation
melting in the womb
of this maternal nation
It's a relation too thin,
like ice
I fall through
I keep falling through
And when I look to you
I see me
The many reflections of humanity.
I have to purge
this darkness
it attaches to my heart
like a forced dance with the devil
I'm always reaching for the stars
But being thrown down to the deepest,
darkest, dankest level
Where I feel nothing,
absolutely nothing.
What is the matter
with this sunflower child
staring deep into my eyes
She means everything and knows nothing,
I know nothing and feel everything
Purge me, purge me
From this feeling
of nothingness and everything
Breaking a part
Seeing for the first time
The blankness of reality
Stark and cold and filled with infinite light.
Went so far down the rabbit hole
That you'd never understand
I behold thee in my imagination
Eyes are portals to the soul that
cause so much elation
and frustration
For thinking I could ever discern real truth,
because truth is simply skewed
It's diluted
My lips wish to speak it,
But my mind is convoluted
And it doesn't know which words to speak
If they'd be understood
by the meek.
Stuck and infinitely running
in this circle,
going round and round
recycled
living, so alive
and stagnant
bursting and bubbling
so, so angry
and yet all I do is smile
and hold back my mind
I wring my wrists
and form fists
I knot my hands behind my back
And lock myself in
Against self-expression,
I decay
Yet another day,
wasted away
on this sovereign conformity
The nest is safe
But I'm ready to fly
and if I don't
I'll continue in this misery--
un-ending, numbing
You'll have to forgive me
Because no longer can I live this way...*
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 5:35 PM UTC
Beleaguered with thee I haste me to sleep,
The sweet kingdom wherein I find my deepest bliss,
But then doth start a count of sheep,
Interrupted by bonny bait of your elusive kiss;
For that coy pleasure I would give treasures, alms,
Or a multitude of illustrious verses,
Present to you with Lover's palms,
Still you blight my day with cruelty, curses.
O Lord, save my soul from this dankest cage,
So I should not be a captive of unfruitful Loves,
So I should enjoy my youth and age,
In flight, like one of Peace's turtle doves.
In Love, alive, in Love's dearth, dead,
I curse the Beauty who doth command my head.
Apr 11, 2017
Apr 11, 2017 at 7:27 PM UTC