"digger" poems
How many times have I brought to the table
My Island flavors?
How many times have you read
my inner thoughts:
how many times will I share them again and again
It all began in 2004 from the moment I walked in
You wasn’t there and I didn’t really care
You ***** more than a female
you took on a huge responsibility
so you went out and brought the singular noun, pronouns
adjectives, plural verbs, preposition and the infinitives
For a New York minute you should have
brought Heather Taffet the grave digger for security measures
My poesy is my poesy
The sun always seems to be a symbol of life.
and life is worth living.
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 6:06 AM UTC
I'm a soldier in the nightlight revolution
I'm fighting the nightmares that haunt your dreams
The monsters in your closet
And the Boogeyman under your bed
One outlet at a time
I'm a silent alarm that vibrates your covers
When older brothers come in after bed time
To cover your face in shaving cream
Dip your hands in popcorn bowls of warm water
Or just slap you in the face
Sometimes they're not that subtle
I know when there is a tooth under your bed
Or reindeer on your roof
I've got a motion detector to keep step fathers at bay
While your mother's asleep
I'm his grave digger and his crypt keeper
Taking his skeletons out of the closet
And laying them in the middle of the floor
That man won't call on you anymore
I'm a hug when all you need is a handshake
And a hold-you-all-night when all you need is a kiss on the cheek
I don't do half-ass
When things go bump in the night I bump back
Never fear to close both eyes when you sleep
Dream of fairy tales, Prince Charming
Dream of Maid Marions
Waiting for your touch
Don't fear the reaper he fears me
I am a soldier in the nightlight revolution
Armed with so much more than illumination
I crawl through the cracks in the closet door
Make their shadows cast pictures of rainbows on your wall
The Boogey Man runs from Chuck Norris
Chuck Norris runs from me
Please rest easy
Let the night take you for all it has to offer
Through star lit skies and rain filled clouds on magic carpets rides
Ocean floors and clown fish in little yellow submarines
Rain forests with koalas and parrots and panda bears
Son never fear for what the night brings near
The nightlight revolution is here
Throw your dream catcher away I will hand craft each one
Take the lavender out of the window sill
Don't leave the door cracked
You've got me
I'm here
We're all here
Soldiers of the nightlight revolution
And we will not sleep til you're awake
Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 2:17 PM UTC
For our Echoing Little Red Riding Hoods
Lagging behind in the Opposition Departments
Lets help you out by offering some buzzwords
For your important assignments even though they've
been floated around forever,
But we understand you need some help catching up
So memorize these basic premises
And please enrich your lives and utilise your valuable time
by raking your little brains to create poems with them
Lets begin with ITALIAN , don't forget RAINBOW, LIES
is also in, add RESPECT, throw in RUDENESS, factor in
LITTLE GIRL, remember ANGEL, write about TRUST, that
much overuse term, throw in BLACK - that's quite a
popular one. Also PINK is quite up the scale, as well as HEART-
Broken ( as if ) and pleeeezee make a big fuss on LONELINESS
That's a big seller. APPLE and SERPENT did appear now and
again so trigger them as you like.
How about BETRAYAL, LOYALTY, FAKE FRIENDS and that
famous one, FOUR or is it THREE, what about BONES,
Lets not forget SKELETON or even ANOREXIC, let also
remember SCREAM, that was a scream..hahah see what
I did there! Remember GREY that has a bit of colour and
what about BUCK or even DOOR-MAT that was a wipe-off
or SUBMISSIVE another popular one.
Hmmm...what about HAIR CUT or TOMBOY or DIGITAL
those are quite good or WOODGREEN or HULL or DOG
that reared its head...woof....woof...hahahah or CEREAL,
beats me what that's about or even MONEY..though that
never was an issue, how about GOLD-DIGGER just for
drama or 50/50 which has been mentioned. Hey! don't forget
RED, what to do without that pinking away.
So please Little Hoods, students of the Opposition Department
keep with the programme and work on these pointers
crack your little brains and write poems like crazy little ants
Your contribution is valuable cause persistent is the Key.
Keep up with your assignment and forget all other things
Oppose, oppose, oppose, work those little brains!
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 4:30 PM UTC
I made a gold digger, ******* full of vigor,
She’s on a hairpin trigger, out to **** my rigor.
Gold digger, in love with all the stuff,
Gold digger, she can’t get enough.
I’m tired of the way she treats his gifts,
He’ll give her a boat and away she drifts—
I can’t help I didn’t give her enough
Now he sees her lying to him—he’s calling her bluff.
He puts bracelets on her wrists
His charity persists,
He puts old hats on her head,
She’ll soon be overfed
His gifts can’t harbor the ship wreck
And look I’m sticking out my neck
Perhaps I can’t afford her
My broke *** just bores her.
Perhaps it’s more than that,
Perhaps it’s under the hat.
Perhaps her head is so done with me,
That the gifts he gives are guilt-free.
Perhaps I’m loosing sight,
Of the things they have so right,
Maybe they’re cleaning horse **** holding hands
Perhaps that’s what’s turning on her adrenal glands—
Gold digger, shallow to a point
Fishing for meaning, Heaven please anoint.
I think I get it, somewhere inside,
You pompous shallow ***** go run and hide.
Surf or skate, and fall and break
The waves will crush you over-take,
And when the good get’s going and I’m out of sight
You and He, will shrink into the night,
And in your heart, Gold digger
My purpose is always Bigger.
Because you love me without cash
But you treat me like your trash,
I’ll probably get in a car crash,
Running him over cause’ I’m just so brash.
This I will confess,
Your heads a ******* mess,
Unless you give up the gold,
Your heart and mine will grow even more cold.
I made a gold digger, ******* full of vigor,
She’s on a hairpin trigger, out to **** my rigor.
Gold digger, in love with all the stuff,
Gold digger, she can’t get enough.
Mar 19, 2011
Mar 19, 2011 at 8:02 AM UTC
Forever neglected
Forever dismayed
Forever deafened
By the cacophony of the trade
The antiquated digger stands by
A sentient guard of the worker
It watches as the tree slowly dissipates
Its life slowly crumbling
As the voracious chipper
Devours the tree whole
The worker stands by
The digger stands by
The chipper chips away
The taciturn worker remains
Ruminating the existence of the world.
Why was he put here?
For what reason must he stay with these hallowed construction tools?
Do they feel any remorse for the change that they've enacted
On the world around them?
Are they aware that they transgress the laws of nature?
The bellicose chipper
Wages war with nature
As the people watch so distantly.
Its sound makes the neighbors quite belligerent
Yet the zealots watch attentively.
The pure ignorance
The pure neglect
The blatant apathy
Is something to be seen.
Whatever could possess you
To follow in the footsteps of the worker
To feel his pain as the trimmer
Chips away at the trees' centuries
The sound of shattered glass
Punctuates the air.
Perhaps there has been an accident.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
Beneath the surface of the earth,
Beneath the green and sodden turf,
Wendy wombat, supreme digger
Raced to make her tunnels bigger,
Pulling dirt with mighty claws
And toiling hard without a pause
Ensconced within her little pouch,
So small they had no need to crouch,
Her children slept, all warm and dry,
As mud and dirt went flying by,
Quite unaware how nature planned
To lend them all a helping hand
For wombat pouches don't get full
Of dirt and mud as mommies pull,
For mother nature in her wisdom
Looked upon her magic kingdom,
Saw the wombats under ground
And wisely turned their pouches round!
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC
His money isn't free.
On the first date,
He picked you up in a Phantom
which haunted your inner gold-digger
Digging to harvest stardom, but
His money isn't free.
He's wearing a Rolex
You're wearing a Swatch wrist
Hoping to switch wrists.
It's much too sad that
His money isn't free.
He's harvested his cotton
And you're ready to rob him
But his ex keeps calling
Little Miss Lee Kaching!
She can sense your scheming;
she screams through the speakerphone,
"His money isn't free!"
Now he's seen
your blades, your spades, your grenades
hidden in the dark of your shade.
He's grabbing those keys
Leaving his seat saying,
"My money isn't free!"
Now you're left alone
With your flip phone,
Not even an iPhone.
And the waiter comes by,
Drops the bill and says,
"This meal isn't free."
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC
I see her
Again
I searched for her on the internet
I found her
She is naked
Again
Having ***
With different people
Again
Why did I look for her?
What was it about her?
That sparked my interest
Her body is nice from what I can tell
But her smile
Her cheek bones
Here eyes
Friendly looking
And kind
Beautiful long hair
She seems so approachable
I don’t know anything about her
But I want to know everything
This is why I don’t normally look at ****
I see a face of a beautiful person
And I want to know everything about her
So I search
And download
Telling myself I am not a stalker
I am not a pervert
Telling myself I can be her knight in shining armor
I can save her from the life she has chosen
I am not a stalker
I am not a pervert
How long can she last?
In this kind of work
Before she goes crazy
Before she gets used up
How much money does she make?
She has a twitter account
I will never tweet her
I am not a stalker
I am not a pervert
A couple of years go by
I keep following her on the internet
She has changed her body
With plastic surgery
She isn’t the innocent cute
Girl/woman she was
She is still doing this kind of work
Why?
She needs to get out
She doesn’t have much time
She needs to learn a skill to enter the work force
I follow her on twitter
She has wish list on Amazon
She lets her fans buy her things
I want to buy her something
I don’t know why
I won’t
I am not a stalker
I am not a pervert
She is dating a man
Months go by
Now she is dating a woman
Months go by
She is retiring
I am happy
For her
But sad because I won’t see her
Her twitter account is still up
She keeps taking pictures of food
Months go by
Now she is coming out of retirement
Why
She can’t
It’s not healthy
Then I realize
I keep searching for her
On the internet
I’m responsible
For her being in demand
Myself and all her fans
Why do we watch her?
We are sick
Chasing an image that isn’t real
Her name isn’t real
This is a job to her
She needs money
And she needs it from
The pathetic losers that are her fans
This is why she is in this business
For the money
Is so simple
I’m so simple minded
I begin to hate her
I will never buy her anything
Or ever pay for any of her content
I will never tweet her
Or view her again ever
Never
never
I am free
Days go by
I am watching a television show
The actress is beautiful
I search for her on the internet
I want to know everything about her.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC
The name was Antappan.
On his wedding invitation
He printed the famous words
Hodie Mihi Cras Tibi -
(Today it's me, tomorrow it will be you.)
Whoever asked
“Are you nuts, Antappaaa?”
Got a voiceless laugh in reply.
In native tongue
The laughter said
No quotes are quoted
Except through one’s own life.
Though not a charming name
It ‘s true that from that day
Antappan came to be called
Hodie Mihi Cras Tibi Antappan.
Everyone who attended
Hodie Mihi Cras Tibi Antappan’s wedding
Wolfed down the pork and the beef.
Everyone who attended
Hodie Mihi CrasTibi Antappan’s wedding
Gifted pretty sums of money in envelopes.
Everyone who attended
Hodie Mihi Cras Tibi Antappan’s wedding
Said nasty comments about the bride.
Everyone who attended
Hodie Mihi Cras Tibi Antappan’s wedding
Asked the sound system guy to play
You are lucky I am lucky loudly.
But before that a small incident at the church. As soon as he set his eyes on Antappan who was a grave digger the Chaplain forgot the wedding and without asking who died began to set the church bell tolling in that rhythm reserved for deaths. The senior Priest who heard it came running and opening the small prayer book for the dead began to sing the song the seeds sprout in the fields when it rains. Hearing that the girls in the choir sang the rest of the song when they hear the clarion call life sprouts in the dead and went on to the prose portion I call you lord from the abysses. Seeing that the boy who helps with the communion lighted the candle and incense stick for the dead. (Meanwhile the bride’s naughty song you who is not dead yet will you not **** me tonight also rang in Hodie Mihi Cras Tibi Antappan’s ears.) Hodie Mihi Cras Tibi Antappan who realized that the same flowers meant to be wreaths at some house of death were now adorning his ***** as a garland laughed his famous voiceless laugh.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
Acerbic antagonist alliterates agonizing accusations,
blasting ******* backbiter butting beautiful bombastic brainy blond bomb.
Cumulative cranial casualties cease caveman's cognitive coherence.
Doom digger derides Daddy's dangling dire dreary ****
Eclectic esoteric eccentric egotistical estranger;
Forthcoming fathoms fetch faithless fleeting father.
God given goblins gather gossamer ganglions;
Hell's hairy harlot harpies hover heeding Hyperion.
Ignatius imbibes irrevocably insisting,
"Jesus juggles justice's joy jarring jams."
Kindness kindles Kilimanjaro;
Malicious mountains melt, Mmm, morning marjoram.
Nothing negates Neanderthal ninnying.
Overt obsessions obfuscate original object of
purest passions, paltry past pinings,
quickly quieted, quelled,
resisted, relinquished, readily, ruefully, roundly
saturated, suffocated; surreptitiously silenced,
terribly torturing the thrashed tamed tormentor:
Ugly, ungrateful, unapologetic,
Vanity,
woefully wallowing, wailing, "Where's
Xanadu's
zeitgeist!?"
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 12:09 AM UTC
The sea cast a gift ashore
one stormy sullen day
and the barren rocky coast
was suddenly recast
as a natural history museum.
A whale.
A real whale, just lying there
shining on the shale
In another time,
we'd have known how to react.
This astonishing bounty
would have been quickly stripped
Bones for building
baleen for support
blubber and oil for fuel.
But now it lay
surrounded by detritus
made of better stuff.
The truth was,
we didn't really need it,
couldn't really use it,
like being presented with
Casablanca on VHS.
A sign appeared:
"Quad bike rides, £2",
red paint on rainsoaked cardboard.
I wasn't tempted.
Children poked it with sticks
in a desultory way,
stricken, intrigued, ashamed,
and utterly dwarfed.
The weeks passed
as we coughed in embarrassment
not knowing what to do,
until finally
someone brought a digger down
and discretely buried the beast.
By now, it will be a perfect skeleton
a prehistoric wonder
an artefact from unjaded days
when nature could still astonish,
trampled by unknowing tourists
as they dream of sunnier beaches.
Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 3:06 PM UTC
I'm just smoking my **** &
(spitting facts*2)..nigga..
Aye..(Smoking **** & spitting facts*2..)
/I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)../2
Smoking **** & spitting facts..
/Smoking weed*3
&
Spitting Facts*3
I stay (smoking **** *2) & spitting facts
/*2..
Spitting facts..
That's what I stay doing man,Yeah Aye....just
(Smoking **** & Spitting Facts*2)..I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)..(Spitting facts2)....& smoking **** up..Yeah man
The real is back , we been here, we never left, we just evolve man, evolve yeah to bring death to all the fake rappers, Yeah ***** I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)..(Spitting facts2)..Ayo, I'm on my gangsta **** Ayo I need me a platinum grill, what up DJ Drama. We need to collab, & do a mixtape real quick..,Aye I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts..,*2)..Aye I don't want no drama or any problems homie, I just want to get my cheddar, I roll alot of marijuana Yeah so what man, but I also tell the people what's real Yeah man..
I'm bout to get so many **** bands, so much that I gotta throw some to the fam, Aye.shit, I might throw some to the fans,..Aye man, I'm bout to cause so many problems ***** like Ol ***** Bastard,Aye..I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts*3)..Yeah man..,my ***** turn on the fan, its so much **** smoke up in the air that I'm starting to lose breath, Yeah I smoke awesome,.. I smoke on that dope, that choke,Yeah ***** that potent..while I'm rhyming to improve society not impress it..
Yeah I'm smoking **** & spitting game to the youth man..Let's get it..Aye..
Aye..(Smoking **** & spitting facts*2..)
/I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)../2
Smoking **** & spitting facts..
/Smoking weed*3
&
Spitting Facts*3
I stay (smoking **** *2) & spitting facts
/*2..
Spitting facts..
That's what I stay doing man,Yeah Aye....just
(Smoking **** & Spitting Facts*2)..I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)..(Spitting facts2) & smoking **** up....Yeah man
Mufuck a opinion, when all I rap about is the truth my nigga,..I be spitting facts, so Talk yo **** be a critic man, Imma be a hustling young ***** Yeah a hard worker, a go getta, a goal digger, A dream chaser..Yeah,
I be spitting facts while these other rappers be spooning each other..Sodom and
Gomorrah type **** ..they fooling the people, but yall dumb ***** don't wanna listen to what's real,..so be it..Imma still rhyme this same way..I know I can Spark the mind up of a future revolutionary leader mane..Yeah....Aye
I'm
(Smoking **** & spitting facts.. Spitting facts, Aye*3)
I'm the best MC in Atlanta since Outcast,.. Yeah the biggest fish, so if the industry trys to hook me, Imma drown their ship..I'm a Outcast of this world no fallen angel..Im my favoritest artist , Young Ston he be going so **** hard, Yo he be (spitting facts*2)..Aye, I'm smoking on a doop, 2 in 1 dawg, King size cone, while I'm writing scriptures..Aye..Yeah..Uhh
(I'm smoking **** & spitting facts*2)
Smoking weed*3
&
Spitting Facts*3
Uhh,..I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts*2)..
Yeah (spitting facts*2)
I'm just smoking my **** &
(spitting facts*2)..nigga
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 1:29 PM UTC
During the night, a dreadful night, a mole dug deep
deep and around my garden that I love
This cheeky mole then had the nerve to stop burrowing
and then surface to check the damage from above.
Up came his velvety head and sniffed the fresh air
parting my newly laid lawn like a digger.
Now he appears to be smiling the cheeky scoundrel
He is making the problem a whole lot bigger.
"Look what yo have done" I shouted "made a right mess
The piles of earth are everywhere with your coming and froing"
"With all due respect madam" sniffed the mole "what do
you expect when I cannot exactly see where I am going!"
"I have no map, no satellite navigation device, just my claws
I am just a mole and all that I can do is dig, I've no appliance
No shiny ***** no mechanical device, what do you expect
Honestly madam it is not exactly rocket science.
He tutted and rushed back down the hole leaving me
speechless and trying my best not to cry.
The mole had made his way underground by now next door
but my hard work was down the drain - I wonder why!
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 2:51 AM UTC
He's a bit of a diddeler
but more of a fiddler
as he scampers about the shoreline
He's a bit of a digger
and fast as a trigger
try to catch one, I tell you it's hard
He's a real survivor
a deep sea diver
when food is scarce on the beach
He never looks bored
shaking that extra large claw
I hope he's not looking for a fight
oh fiddle de de
please come to me
my fast footed friend, fiddler crab.
By Christos Andreas Kourtis
By NeonSolaris
© 2008 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 4:22 PM UTC
"I am dying."
"Its hardly a cold."
"Will you fetch me a thermometer?"
"I will send for one, you Shakespearean."
"I am glad you can make jokes to a dying friend."
"Learn to hold your wine."
"You mean drink? Or what I am doing now?"
"Both."
"Will you still be my friend in the morning?"
"If you are alive."
"Good. I am dying you know?"
"You died a week ago and the week before that."
"It's real this time. You will not be happy in the morning."
"Why is that?"
"You will wake to a foul smell and realize that your mourning will be spent digging a hole."
"Oh, so like most mornings with you."
"You are a real pal. Pass the wine?"
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 11:07 PM UTC
Wondaland, a.k.a. The Magic Metropolis
June 13th, 2021
Esteemed Readers and Writers, Gangstapoets and Hangarounds,
Gangstapoetry proudly declares that CREATION 96 is now the second unit of our Global Movement.
We are welcoming our new members. You are now a part of us. Much Love.
Tizzop
GANGSTAPOETS
**** 13.8 * MIKEY DA STREETWISE * EAZY LEGS * ADORABLE GREGGIE * MONICA MATADORA * SLY BOOTYGIRL * COLLAPSIN CHAOT * THE LADY REVENANT * BEEN * WOOZY WIZARD * TELLY * CRATERSKATER * CHEYENNE IS STARVIN * CASPER THE PSYCHOTIC GHOST
GANGSTAPOETS
DESERT SAMURAI * PRESTON * ALBOW * SNOWBLADE MUTANT * SAMBA *
UNKLE OF DOOM * PLAY * ANTWONE *
BOBBY BUTCHAH * TINA * JOEY * DREAM SEEKER * TRANCE DISCIPLE *
* MOTH * DR. **** * KOBA COBRATONGUE
GANGSTAPOETS
SVETLANA * GUNJAHTOOL * LOUIS ORTGIES * MISHU BRAVE BEAR * GÖKHAN TATCHOUOP * DESOCIALIZED KID * WIND DIGGER * SABIÇ * JUAN * DEAL * LUCY TARANTULA * TEXAS HOLD ME * SOUTHSIDE DRILL ASSASIN * SHAWN * JAMMED JAY
GANGSTAPOETS
THCO * TIMMY ROTTEN * PLATIN ZIPPO * WORLDWIDE WAGGING * ZOMBIE NEIGHBOR * BUTCH * KWAME'S LOST SON * TRANCE24/7 * JIMMY * JOSE, FELIPE & CATHERINE * LAST OPTION PHIL * KIAN * MAX NEWMAN * MAGIC GOON
Jul 28, 2021
Jul 28, 2021 at 8:12 AM UTC
I've never had a fistful of love,
because my fist is too full of dirt
from digging graves.
And the greatest fist I've ever known
is the one leaving bruises all over my insides.
But that fist has graduated
and been granted tools to be used as weapons.
And my insides which were once diamonds,
are now nothing but sawdust.
And I can feel the knife.
I can always feel the knife.
And stab me just for kicks
because it tickles my fickle chest
and makes me feel like I'm living in a French city
with a quick and fickle tramway system
that can take me anywhere I want to be.
But instead I'm always going to a town
a mere hour away
and sitting in traffic
in a stuffed automobile,
wishing I was where the trains are.
Because the trains that have always sang me lullabies
whisper melodies to me all the time now,
through smoke and haze and swirling lights.
I can feel the knife.
I can always feel the knife.
Call me Miss November
because I'm the first snowfall after the best time of year,
and I cut the world with my icicle sword of a soul.
Can you feel the sword?
I hope you can always feel the sword.
And I will leave and the world will be warm and happy,
and upon my returnal,
I'll give you beautiful sweater weather
and stab you with my icicle sword when you least expect it.
I can feel the knife.
You can feel the sword.
It tickles.
Me and Miss June sing a sister song,
making harmonies with our weaponry.
My icicle sword, her scalding torch.
Just call me Miss Emmy Lou November.
I'll sing a duet with you and depart for almost forever,
and leave with my sister, Miss June.
Wake up.
It's November.
I'm here.
Wake up.
I won't be here for long.
I was born red all over.
Never knowing if I'm meant for love or anger.
But angry leaves fall in November,
getting their revenge.
But nobody listens to anger
when it's falling to the ground so gracefully.
So come to my November house jam
and we'll all be angry and loving
and cold and happy and dreading
the latter end of my company,
and I'll be wishing sister June was with me.
I'm a blackhearted lover.
I'm a blackhearted grave digger.
I'm a blackhearted skinny lover
with skinny arms that'll never be able
to cover anyone from my frigid aura.
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 4:54 PM UTC
Do you remember me?
Do you remember the way you pulled at my hair
The way you bit on my shoulder
Legs
Thighs
Neck
The way you hit my cheek
And left marks of yourself all over me
The way you flung money on my face
The way you kept ******* me
Even though I was asking, begging
PLEADING
For you to stop
The way you screamed,
"Work harder you *****
I didn’t waste money for you to stop"
And the bruises you left
When I passed out?
I
Am the girl
From the Red Room of The ***** House.
I
Am the ****
Who is ***** everyday
But society says,
"NO. It's all for the easy money"
I
Am the gold-digger
Crying for people to stop.
I
Am the story
Of eighty million **** toys
Behind the Curtains less Doors of Pleasure for Men.
No.
We aren’t **** stars.
We don't become famous for filming obscene videos.
We are just some toys
That men borrow
Like a rental car.
We are the colors
The society talks about in hushed voices
In the corner of a deserted street.
We are the discarded clothes
You never wore
Because they weren’t good enough.
We are the succubuses
Of every man's dream.
We are Pleasure
And
Lust
And
Money
And
Sin.
But,
We die a bit everyday.
We have felt, seen and heard pain
MORE than any one of you here.
We are WOMEN.
But no one holds a candle lit march for us
When one of us is *****
Because
"It's all for the easy money"
Isn’t it?
We are the Strippers, the Prostitutes, the *****
We
Are the nightmares you never wish to have
We
ARE THE UNSHED TEARS OF A FORGOTTEN PAST.
do you remember me now?
Apr 6, 2020
Apr 6, 2020 at 11:22 AM UTC
Hello, my name is Lisa.
I do not care if you were gay, are gay, or considering becoming gay.
I do not care if you eat only vegetables, nothing with animal product, or a cow every night for dinner.
I do not care if you have no children, one child, adopted children, or eighteen children. (Kidnapped children is a grey area)
I do not care if you are conservative, liberal or lunatic.
I do not care if you are a lawyer, a teacher, a preacher, a maid, a waitress, or ditch digger.
I do not care if you dislike animals, have a zoo, or only one cat.
I do not care which God (s) you choose as your own - if any, or none.
I do care and hope that you are kind and loving to those you love.
I do care that you use your food wisely and do not waste. Thinking of others without.
I do care that you treat your children with love and not with violence or neglect.
I do care if you are completely apathetic to politics, as doing nothing, or standing for nothing, creates nothing.
I do care that you go and you do your best at whatever your work may be and feel proud that you've done your best in your day.
I do care if you harm an animal. If you hunt to feed your family be proud - if you hunt for sport you shame me.
I do care and think the greatest religion is being loving, kind and compassionate to our fellow man.
Hello, my name is Lisa.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
In my native language
The word "mahal" means
"Love" and "Expensive"
Somehow you've made the two
Synonymous
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 10:58 AM UTC
Music reminds me of you.
The first time I saw your smile and inhaled your perfume as you walked by.
Who would have thought you would become my fantasy. I now understand why doves cry.
If I had of known the girl next door was you......I would have sent flowers and balloons to your place.
Just to allow a smile to rent some time on your beautiful face.
Beauty is your name.....you wear the clothes and are a vision of class.
Anytime you are at an affair ......they assume you are VIP or First class.
I want to know what's on your mind......as you go about your day. Who has your mind, body, and soul? Who keeps you warm at night....or is your bed kept cold?
Come and talk to me.....I really want to know your name. Although, I am too shy to speak. A portrait of beauty who resides next door. All eyes on me as you exit out the door. Here's my chance....but what do I say? Not much because you take my breath away.
Your the only one I want to slow dance with.....I know you are not a gold digger and you won't have to shed any tears. I'm all you need to get by.....and I'll get the keys from Marvin's Room.
Music reminds me of you
A house is not a home if you are not there....my imagination roams freely and there we are one. We lived happily ever after and you gave birth to a son.
Don't wake me I'm dreaming.......I had a taste of Brown sugar and I just couldn't get enough.
Music reminds me of you.....please refill my cup.
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 4:56 PM UTC
Gold Digger
now I'm not saying she's a gold digger
but her hands are in my pants pants pants
and I'm thinking as far as I can figure
she's not asking me to dance dance dance
cause the only tune I can hear playing
is the one that's in my head head head
and she's not skinny but she keeps saying
honey I need some bread bread bread
only last week she was begging me
she's needing cash for her sister sister sister
in my pocket once again you see
surprised her hand isn't one blister blister blister
I tell her go away you fool
you're not coning me this time time time
then she cries saying I'm not cool
the way you treat me is a crime crime crime
that's a lie and you know it honey
I give you everything you need need need
but all you seem to want is my money
I'm not a turnip and I bleed bleed bleed
so I'm not saying she's a gold digger
but her hands are always in my pants pants pants
and I'm thinking as far as I can figure
she's still not asking me to dance dance dance
Gomer LePoet....
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 9:28 AM UTC
When a wife says he is a good provider
maybe he just doesn't feel good inside her
a hard working man with money to invite her
maybe she needs a man with a description wider
I mean, a grave digger can be a good provider for the dead, but do nothing for their spirit. It's apples and oranges. Wait...nevermind...not like i have hope of anyone paying any mind. They're either low on funds, or their money is all tied up in dumb stuff. Not for me to judge, but i do now have my own gavel. I bought it for the same reason i turned gay. Power, and freedom. Loving another man? Straight weird!
Women never have to worry about being called such foul things. At least I never heard anyone say SHE is a good provider. I heard a man say that a woman was a good lay once. Confusing as HELL.
Maybe men and women are bad, subconsciously. Consciousness is good!
Oct 12, 2021
Oct 12, 2021 at 3:20 PM UTC
An Aussie digger
killed in battle
but disinclined to die
returns to the front line
as a spectre
wearing a slouch hat
and a larrikin grin.
Draped in a tattered flag
he yells
'Remember Korea, lads
and Vietnam
and how we went
all the way
with Menzies and L.B.J.'
'Don't forget Gallipoli
men
or the fight for peace
with George
in Iraq and Afghanistan
against Al Qaeda
and the Taliban.
'Defeat the enemy
mates
to secure the future
as our heritage
of service
patriotism and pride
in U. S foreign policies.'
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 5:11 AM UTC
Daddy was a boy scout
Moss grew on his skin
He was green
And I didn’t know him then
He was eating out of Frisbees
Building fires with his friends
He was young
He was not my daddy then
Soon he was an eagle scout
He grew up way too fast
Flew away
To desert sun
Hard at work
In Cimarron
Daddy was a park ranger
Before he met my mom
Hiking in his short shorts
All over Yellowstone
Daddy was a husband
Honeymoons and holding hands
And fighting over money
Build the house
Mow the lawn
Take the kids to soccer
Daddy was a doctor
Sorting pills and giving shots
And taking care of Mom
Daddy was a nurse
Wiping brows
And blowing noses
Sitting up all night
Then
Daddy was a grave digger
One cloudy day in May
At St. Paul’s
He hurt his shoulder
Playing in the dirt
At St. Paul’s
He hurt his shoulder
Putting Mom back in the earth
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 4:32 PM UTC