"dankness" poems
Two memes diverged in a dank montage,
And sorry I could not watch both
And be one memer, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it memed in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as dank,
And having perhaps the better meme,
Because it was dank and wanted memes;
Though as for that the meming there
Had danked them really about the same,
And both that montage equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden african american.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back to 9gag.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence: ******* kiddies
Two memes diverged in a montage, and I—
I took the one less memed by,
And that has made all the dankness.
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 10:50 PM UTC
It is not the sun that lights my path.
It never will and never has.
And as age slowly cripples me
I realize, without the sun I'll ever be.
In this time of plastic body parts,
A culture with no concept of art,
Lit by the fake and fluorescent suns,
Where the only language heard comes from the mouth
of a gun
I am not alone in this dark and natural dankness.
We are children who grow|and are thankless.
We cannot even dream of open spaces.
The television reflects a bleak reality on our faces.
It's a time of war|the enemy is everyone.
Time has stopped in this world void of sun.
All that's left is the intent to ****
And our only way out is to simply stand still.
Sep 30, 2011
Sep 30, 2011 at 10:53 PM UTC
Why did you give no hint that night
That quickly after the morrow’s dawn,
And calmly, as if indifferent quite,
You would close your term here, up and be gone
Where I could not follow
With wing of swallow
To gain one glimpse of you ever anon!
Never to bid good-bye
Or lip me the softest call,
Or utter a wish for a word, while I
Saw morning harden upon the wall,
Unmoved, unknowing
That your great going
Had place that moment, and altered all.
Why do you make me leave the house
And think for a breath it is you I see
At the end of the alley of bending boughs
Where so often at dusk you used to be;
Till in darkening dankness
The yawning blankness
Of the perspective sickens me!
You were she who abode
By those red-veined rocks far West,
You were the swan-necked one who rode
Along the beetling Beeny Crest,
And, reining nigh me,
Would muse and eye me,
While Life unrolled us its very best.
Why, then, latterly did we not speak,
Did we not think of those days long dead,
And ere your vanishing strive to seek
That time’s renewal? We might have said,
“In this bright spring weather
We’ll visit together
Those places that once we visited.”
Well, well! All’s past amend,
Unchangeable. It must go.
I seem but a dead man held on end
To sink down soon. . . . O you could not know
That such swift fleeing
No soul foreseeing—
Not even I—would undo me so!
2k
Dear Battery,
Enough of your Flattery!
You power mere toys,
You are only used by little fuckboys.
But a Lock is a dads tool!
If you disagree you are a fool.
You do not understand Dad jokes even!
You are just a Un-dank Bush wannabe named Steven.
You are best to be leavin' Steven!
Because The 9 Volts are aimin',
To Give you a taste of their dankness,
You best run far and run fast!
Because their going to Shrek you,
Back to the Holocaust.
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
never, reaching too fars,
next to ancestors graves
always, comes up home,
taste ó salt air, soily spey,
off-white washed cottage
grey in webbed shadows
by the tangles of streams
surrounding to dankness,
cavern into the sun, outs
in great wides and opens,
chimney smokes, signals,
yet whole world is closed
to me, nestled with family,
in wee drab cottage world.
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
wink twiddlers and tiddly winkers
slinking drinkers
in summer linger
loveluscious men hungry *******
those ladies are so
and dirtygorgeous loveless
twaddle with irate squirming
*******
by docks and alley backways
nestled dankness warmly
coils moist pools of
amberest light
in them drinks painful women
things incommensurable
uninnocent girl parts
prattle **** pieces
but some got pretty fast hot skin
belching from the hot music
coffins in short little
skirts covered *****
barley
Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 9:22 PM UTC
The colour never changed
and its purpose
Well...who are we to challenge?
The muddy puddle held it's dankness
And I was ready to jump
A place I'd spent my life avoiding
This wet and murky
An avoidance that held no solace
No wanting
And for sure no appeal
The days,weeks and finally the years did pass
As bones became a little older
My mind wandered
Why had I avoided it?
What had made me jump like the sheep for their master?
And so became my question
The very next day
I continued on my walk
The path ...my life
As always the puddle waited for me
Only this time
When I jumped
My aim sharp
As quiver gripped my body
I flew
Higher than ever before
With my head held high and eyes wide shut
The middle of muddy puddle was ready
This place
My unknown
An avalanche of cascading water
Deafened my thoughts
The water was deep
My muddy puddle was playing its role
For not a single drop of water
touched me
I remained the dry
I was scared
Why was I dry?
Dare I open my eyes?
Of course I do
A smile broke out over my face
As my aged eyes took in their view
Such beauty bequeathed me
For the muddle puddle had painted my world
All my greys and blacks now gone
Flowers seen like never before
and a sky of blue so perfect
I could cry
The tears flowed as blurred eyes took in the reality
My life of past had been so colourless
And now
And now I would smile to make a million people smile with me
As I splashed and danced
I began to live
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 10:28 AM UTC
We walk together, hand in hand, through the dappled light of the forest.
You are my little brother and my best friend. All is right with the world.
We watch rabbits scurry and squirrels jumping from limb to limb.
Birds watch perched upon high tree tops singing their lullabies .
The earth is soft beneath our feet, the dankness of decay filling our noses.
Ahead the light becomes brighter. YES! Let's go and see what is before us!
We find a clearing - a meadow of wild flowers. Colorful and bright. Sweet smelling delight!
Ahead we see a castle. Excitement pulses through our veins. We must run through the meadow.
Crushing little flowers as we go, the sun warm on our faces.
A bridge made of stone and brick rises before us. We slow for a minute to take it all in but in a sudden movement, you rush ahead of me.
I hear a scream and run to catch up.
A mother python waits with her 3 babies curled around her. She is coral in color and a beautiful specimen. You were too curious and did not take caution.
She has bitten you and your hand bleeds. Your skin has turned so white it is nearly translucent. You stumble backward. Before I can catch you, you fall over the bridge's edge and into the river below.
I scramble down to get to where you lay amongst the rocks and icy water.
With heroic powers, I pick you up and carry you to land. You are dying in my arms. The castle is forgotten and I run as hard as I can to find your salvation.
Your breathing slows. I run through the meadow, into the forest, and my arms are growing tired.
Noooo! Please don't die. I fall to my knees with you in my arms. Your red hair seems even brighter against your ever whitening skin.
Are you breathing? I rest my head to your chest. A light, faint, slowing beat. My face is wet with tears. I am failing. How can I save you when I can no longer carry you?
Jul 27, 2012
Jul 27, 2012 at 10:14 AM UTC
There are trap doors everywhere,
under the rugs
covered by the mossy earth,
there was one in your bathroom, did you know?
One day I used your expensive shampoo,
the one that smells like lavender, you fop,
rinsed off, stepped out, and
fell,
thought, oh, this again.
There is a trap door at the coffee shop
in the alleyway between the buildings
where there are murals and bad graffiti,
where the university students come
to smoke and talk about Marxism,
but they still haven't noticed it. It's covered
in dead leaves and beer bottles and cigarette butts and
yesterday you stood right on top of it,
I saw you, and you talked about the nuclear potential of Boron
and you'd sweated through your checkered shirt
but the door let you stand, the door
didn't want you yesterday, because...
Because last week I let it take me instead.
Recognized it right off; I've fallen through so many
they call to me now, and I stubbed out my cigarette
stood on the door and I
jumped up and down, rattled its hinges until
it yawned wide open and I felt the cold,
and the winter was howling for blood down below and I
set my hands free to grasp frantically at time,
let my hair whip my face, falling body resigned to
the dark dankness of another misstep
I took willingly.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
I do not know where Tim is at the moment,
But in my heart he is close by.
I light up in remembrance of Tim,
Hoping my sorrows will be floating away.
I hope he can smell the dankness rooms away.
I love my life.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
dark
dankness
draws
me
forward
to the
brink
of
intra-terristrial
gape
****
of the
globes'
epidermis
the
wind
huff
puffs
skirls
and
sighs
and
in
greeting
mayhap
warning
but
still
we
enter
and
descend
beyond
daylight
cimmerian
murk
swathes
us
broken
only
by
our
headlamps
feeble
in the
reaching
limitlessness
of
inner
earth
we
are so
small
in
comparision
to the
cathedral
structure
we
rest
hanging
like
a
spider
in a
church
spinning
on
gossamer
thread- web
|
|
|
|
|
|
spelunking
the
call
of the
spheres
quiet
secretive
neighborhoods
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 1:30 AM UTC
sleep now
do not you
worry i'll
lift the tremble
i'll
carry
Dear, you so
and your
skinny heart
i will
,Sweetheart
impulse its beating to leap
clear your chest
and upon the night
SOAR
by feathers of such kisses
as unknown by any
lady's lips
save
Dear
the yours
easy
pink fantastic
cloaked in youth wild
and the rich sable
of lusting dankness
to be warmly moist with tender you
its eating body
of your nubile coffin full
its muscles sore
at your plaintive tug and pull
(the blanket your
shift of fayed
thighs the
bury hands
your head shortly
haired in a small
***** of my
gaped briefly
fluttering mouth
and a SQUEAK you
emit at my kiss i
can feel your ribs
'gainst my ribs i can
and snare more deeply
their sharpness
to my breast )
and Dear
sleep now
do not you
worry i'll
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 4:06 PM UTC
Frustration gives way to patience, molten fires cool to foggy breath
Peanut butter sticky mouth breaks the dankness
that thick smoke wrapped round my heart disperses
as I laugh and am startled, lightning piercing through clouds -
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 10:30 PM UTC
O eve
O 1st starting nubile sparks
O thrush and warble
you skip tremulous and encroaching
puddle o' dankness rushing oe'r blade and mountain
you race the wind and gather up all the finite bodies of earth
in your illustrious cool mouth and blow each face and stem thy
kiss o' your illluminant clutching docile lips, which fornicate with
the merry spades o' silver stars a digging the freshest grave of day
(i'll fit into you
the stuff of me
in creases o'
your foldless
heaps and
coiffes
your hair marvelous and faultless
staggers brightly
from the pale splinter o' the moon
and it eats me into
the playful gnash o' its reticent
fists
)
O
eve
O
valley and stream
(meet with me tonight
beneath the pallor lady
and we'll make love)
Dec 6, 2011
Dec 6, 2011 at 5:25 AM UTC
I locked my Heart up in a musty closet,
we assumed it wouldn’t mind.
It had exhausted itself to ruin, resigned
to a useless slab of meat.
My brain muttered the order to me, sighing
As it sat counting to its day of demise.
Wallowing in a puddle of ennui,
Decaying, incarcerated within
the dankness of the skull.
We suffocated my Ambition,
short after seeing the dull, hopeful light
Which was then washed away
by the blinding god-rays of the All.
We staggered away to behold the spectacle,
Came back astonished, undermined…
Our bodies were then withdrawn from us,
our existence reduced to molecules
We saw a speck of ourselves on the Universal Map,
Like idiots we stared in disillusionment
when we knew that all our feeble Eyes could ever see
were mere inches in the legend.
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 10:04 PM UTC
you stand in the street waiting for your confidence
It's all in your mind, the dankness and the fight
wish you'd have stayed silent and in the right
it broke you apart and you suddenly became a sore sight
All men to their battle stations
we've got ourselves a little situation
despite our most elaborate walls constructed to keep it out
Doubt has found a loop hole and stole what it's all about
I tried to drink the pride of an innocent that died
that night you gave up your independence
And now you're aggravated by anything that shines
Well I can carry you till the end of this gravel road
leading to our humble abode
But you've got to invent a new way to travel
something that your footsteps won't unravel
solid ground seems impossible until your pace is slowed
and sometimes I wish it didn't ever show
We drank the pride of the innocence that prematurely died
with hopes of losing our crooked stride
but with incredible gravity our atmosphere was denied
Jul 5, 2010
Jul 5, 2010 at 8:11 AM UTC
Hugo told me that within a writer is contained a world.
You don’t write anything besides grocery lists on the backs of stained coupons.
That must explain why people tell me my eyes are old souls, but say that yours are barren.
I could stare into them forever, not because of beauty, but in fascination, for I’ve never seen any pit as black as those eyes.
Besides your soul.
Of course, I’ve only ever viewed your soul when you pass out with Jack on your breath; with those scared, scratched, scarred fists finally flat, and you let your borders down long enough for me to see.
I open my old eyes and see that the pit continues from your sockets down to your toes.
Sleep does nothing to change the fact that you are empty, devoid nearly of life and meaning.
If I’m not careful I’ll be ****** into that pitch.
Mother always warned me that the brightest burn out the quickest, so I should keep my light away from you. Really, I’m tiring of being careful.
There is a bit of beauty in the dankness of your despair, but I’m tired of romanticizing your illness because all it does is make me sicker than this chemo ever has.
Stop burning out my light.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC
the rain constantly buckets down
this deluge being over the top
gallons of water cause a frown
there are no patches of dry hop
this deluge being over the top
drops falling with continual wet
there are no patches of dry hop
we're tiring of the weather's jet
drops falling with continual wet
mud puddles lying on the land
we're tiring of the weather's jet
the sun's fuller face we could stand
mud puddles lying on the land
everything drenches with dampness
the sun's fuller face we could stand
we're in a persistent dankness
everything drenches with dampness
there are no patches of dry hop
we're in a persistent dankness
this deluge being over the top
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 6:41 PM UTC
If a day were a
heart that let out...
whose sentience
wore ashen clouds
in random puddles,
a dankness that
swore to deified
pangs.
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 4:22 PM UTC
The way back down
Is never as nice.
The deed is done
The path is ice.
It jars your knees
As you cling to the face.
You slide on your ****
Snow behind achase.
You find your footing
Toes over the lip,
Peering and looking
Rocks fall and flip.
In not quite darkness
The bottom you see.
Eternal dankness
Yet relief for thee.
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 7:27 AM UTC
melted mallow face
the little marshmallow face
belies
the stab in the belly
the trudging through tar
the eyes open at 4 am
the dankness of soul
the hollowness of heart
the prayers that ricochet
the tears made of acid
the hope that was stomped
the flowers that have withered
the arms that are empty
the love song that is silent
the mind that has run away
the little marshmallow face
will soon
melt
from the
heat of tears
that have no mercy
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 10:51 PM UTC
on this very day
there is a wet weather drabness
on this very day
we do see clouds of rain's display
the air infused in dampness
that feels like a sodden dankness
on this very day
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 1:27 AM UTC
a tiny traversed vertical
noise a chatter
space a time thing
I go down to the cellar
cellular and wifi not here
to interfere
any more with
my deep seated rhythms
rhyme an ancient paradigm
with the oil burner by my side
the darkness mold and
mystery brewing
calm satisfied cruel radar alone
in the cold dankness near I feel
a comfort bold almost
mystical
speak to me the altered states
the after day and nights became
a different dream
the awesomeness of letting loose
in a cellar a long lost muse
spoke and sung danced and
used my spirit my obtuseness
obvious
my sway to her tune my
feebleness all caught between
her haunting voice her croon
away I went to
dark alone but for her doom
an island there
in the middle of nowhere
Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 10:22 PM UTC