Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I could call you Molly
With the way you came into my presence
as an orchestra that played the melancholy lullaby of a cello and the sweet pings of a piano
with the velocity of sound waves filling up my head
But as the grains of sand fell and the seasons brushed along our skin
you became a drowned out child’s rhyme
A whisper in the eve

Truth is all perspective
As is friend and foe
But to say,
at best,
your words could be perceived as anything less than the hot air of an air balloon would be a stretch a contortionist would struggle to achieve.

(C) Tiffanie Doro
Big Virge Jun 2018
Respect is DYING ... Everyday ... !!!

The old ... " Dismay " ...
cos the young ... DISPLAY ...
A Lack of ... " Respect " ...
in their ... Crazy Ways ... !!!

So, pay ... Close Attention ...

This ISN'T ... " Wordplay " ... !!!

Disrespect has become ...
The ... " Modern Way " ... ?!?

VIOLENCE ....
is now the way .... !!!!!

I hope I'm dead BEFORE ....
28 Days Later ... !!!!!!

What's with these ... " Film Makers " ... ?!?

Actors take roles
for .... Cash Type PAPER ... !!!

EVEN If ... Their Role ...
is a SICK ... Date ***** ... !?!

See ....
This is why ...
Respect will die ...

because ...

Most things seen
on ... Movie Screens ...
are making kids
have ... Violent Dreams ... !!!

from ...
Twelve years olds
to our ... Young Teens ...

The streets we walk on
are ... UNCLEAN ... !!!!!!
because of images ...
placed on ... TV Screens ... !!!!!!

Don't get me wrong ....

VIOLENCE is .... REAL ... !!!!!

But ....
THIS ... I DON'T Want ...
as my ... " Daily Meal " ... !!!!!!

While ... Business Tycoons ....
Continually ... STEAL ... !!!

I Agree with ... Michael Moore ...
STOP Shows like ... " Cops " ... !!!!!

These Violent Shows ...
are built to ... SHOCK ...

So Ratings RISE ...
while black folks ... ROT ... !!!!!

THINK ......

ALL These Things ...
Create ... DISRESPECT ...

DISRESPECT of ... Our Mothers
DISRESPECT of ... Our Brothers
DISRESPECT of ... Each Other
Because of ......... Our Colour

But This .... Disrespect Thing ...
is used in ... " Rapping " ...

So people ... DON'T THINK ...
There are ... " Conscious " ... Rap Kings ...

This .....
DISRESPECT ... Rap ...
is getting kids ... "TRAPPED" ... !!!

Cos' they think ....
Respect's EARNED ...
By dishing out ... SLAPS ... !?!

Instead of ... " Discerning " ...
Who's Setting .... " The Trap " ...

It's ... " Corporate Boys " ...
who sit and ................ " Avoid " ...................
The ... SCREAMING Type Noise ... !!!!!!
When Kids Play With ... " Gun Toys " ... !!!!!!

It's THEM ....
Who sit .... " Planning " ....
THESE ... "Devilish' ... Ploys ...

THIS ....
Lack of ... Respect ...
is SLITTING ... Some Necks ... !!!!!

Believe ... What You Like ... !!!!!

Walk streets ... Late at Night ...
and see what you get .... !!!!!!

On THIS ...
I Would Bet ...
Walk in the ... WRONG PLACE ... !!!
and you'll ... NEVER AGAIN ...

See a ....
Smile on your face ... !!!

It's ATTITUDE Now ...
ALL OVER The Place ... !!!!!

Rudeness is viewed ...
In ... EVERY ... Workplace ...

The way the young ... Act ...
is a ... ******* ... DISGRACE ... !!!!!

It's NOT JUST ... The Young ... !!!

I've really been ... STUNNED ...
by how people ... " Act " ...
Who Claim ... " Poetic Grace " ... ?!?

Fellow Poets have seen me ...
TIME and AGAIN ... !!! ...
But when I ... Return ...
Many STARE ... in my face ... !?!

Like i'm from ....... OUTER SPACE ........ ?!?

Men ....
DISRESPECT ... Women ...

Women ....
DISRESPECT ... Men ...

To me ....
This is .... NONSENSE ...
WITHOUT ... A Defence ... !?!

If we are to live ...
in a world ... FULL of Hate ... ?!?

I Think ....
YES ... For REAL ... !!!!

Give the world to the ... " Gays " ... !!!!

I've tried ... NOT TO SAY ...
What I feel about ... " Gays " ...

Well I guess ...
Now you ... KNOW ... !!!

So ....
What will you say ... ?

" I DISRESPECT Them !!! "

Well Maybe ... I am ... ???

But ...
Let me just ... STRESS ... !!!
I Face ... Racial Problems ... !!!!!

Give me ... THE POWER ...
That's given to ... THEM ...

Then I Won't ... Shy Away ...
From Talking ... About Them ... !!!!!

But for now ....
I'm ... MORE WORRIED ...
About THESE ... " Gun Sounds " ... !!!!!
and Profanities .... HEARD ...
From MANY ... Young Mouths ... !!!!!

I'm Ready to ... DIE ....
cos these days ... I DON'T CRY ... !!!!!

I'm Poetically ... " Plying " ...
and Constantly Trying ...
to make you folks ... Hear Me ...

Cos' .....

" RESPECT is now dying... "
Todays world is a dangerous one !
.... and RESPECT has not been taken care of as it should of been.
It's been forsaken for all manor of craziness, this poem was written long before it got to...
Big Virge Apr 2017
This ... Disrespect thing ...
is ... OUT OF CONTROL ... !!!

from work to ... Street Corners ...
to ... most peoples' ... " Homes " ... !!!

My Poetry .... Roams .............................
just like ... " Mobile Phones " ...

to send out ... " This Vibe " ...

Disrespect ... NEEDS TO ... die ... !!!!!

We NEED TO ... " Respect " ...
This Thing ... we call ... " Life " ...

LOVE ... One Another ... !!!

RESPECT ....
is what's ... Right ... !!!

Take things ... in your stride ...
DISMISS ...................................... foolish pride

cos' ... Pride like they say ...
comes before ... A Fall ... !!!

and next thing ...
You've guessed it ...
You're facing ... A WALL ...

A wall ... FILLED WITH ... Bullies ... !!!
just ready to .... BRAWL ... !!!!!

But bullies ... are Dummies ...
whose thought waves are ... "small" ...

Like those who believe ...
in avoiding ... School Halls ... ?!?

That line's ... for those kids ...
with ... SLEEPLESS ... Eyelids ... !!!

ALWAYS ... think of ... THIS

A Bully is .... weak ... !!!

So Don't ... lose your sleep ... !!!

cos' bullies ... DON'T THINK ...
of the ... " Sows " ... that they reap ... ?!?

OKAY ...
Yes I mean ...
They'll reap ... what they sow ... !!!

Well ... ?
Maybe I don't ... ???

But ...
One Thing ... I KNOW ... !!!

IS ... most bullies ... Don't See ...
that the ... Sickness ... they keep ...

is REALLY ... A Sickness ...
that slowly ...... just Creeps ...

A Sickness ...
That'll give em' ...

YES ...  
One ... " FINAL " ... Sleep.

and this may be ... " Why "... ?
Our Youth ......
Die on streets ..... !!!

The Cycle's ... Complete ...
from Rappers who talk ...
about ... Killing Emcees ... ?!?

to crimes some ... " Commit " ...
Against ... " Humanity " ...

I'm looking for ... " Peace " ...
in places ... I be ...

But let's get things ... STRAIGHT ...
Don't come ... Pushing Me ... !!!!!

Be ... Nice ...
and ... Believe Me ...
I'll be ... Nice to you ... !!!

I may ... turn my cheek ....
if you give me ... Abuse ... ?

But .... !!!!!

That's cos' I choose ...
NOT TO ... act the ... " Fool " ...

but .... Anything's Possible ...
I've got ... Two Hands Too ... !!!!!

I put that verse in ....

to PROVE ... Peace ...
Can Be ... COOL ... !!!

But everyone's temper ...
has Boundaries Too ... !!!!!

So ... what do you do ... ?
when THUGS ... approach you ... ?!?

Well this ...
I CAN'T ... tell you ...
cos' ... I am NOT ... You ... !!!

I'm simply ... Advising ...

Fighting NEEDS ...  " Downsizing " .... !!!!

But .....
This thing ... RESPECT ...

Really NEEDS ...
An ... UPRISING ... !!!!!

cos' Violence ... INFECTS ...
and ... CANNOT ... Protect ...

The world and ...
It's ... People ...

So take time and ... " Check " ...
The thoughts I ... " Collect " ...

and take time ... Before ...

Dishing out ....

" Disrespect " ....
This piece speaks for itself .... It's easy to Disrespect, however, sometimes what's harder to achieve, is better for Humanity
in my family conversation is seldom thoughtful questioning filled with wonder quiet pauses instead it is sociable banter teasing goading spontaneous gratuitous remarks clever embellishment excessive flattery it is an ancient system passed down patronage pecking order nepotism sycophancy near to impossible for me to be honest in presence of their overwhelming vanity when it comes to family gatherings my voice isn’t very strong my family’s joking squelches my chirp they are each and all more loud sarcastic faster wittier more crude outrageous more funny loud gregarious sanguine Mom embarrasses herself with uncalled for flirtations (her mental state rapidly deteriorating) everyone laughs boisterously they snap kid exaggerate amplify taunt i can hardly get word in i need to repeat myself several times or more to be heard my voice is minor i struggle to tell story they listen politely then rush back into their rowdy repartee i am way too sincere way too naked in my ineptitude my stomach ties in knots biting lip shivering from cold fear what’s going to happen pitch black in front of me voice inside screams please i need help so bad please make it easier i’m lost in all this commotion drama hunger lack of clarity

Chicago 1980 Odysseus always revered cousin Chris is taller tan-skinned handsomer stronger protective of Odysseus knowing he is frivolous liability tags along with Chris and his prosperous trader friends advantaged echelon inherited wealth educated white young men they float above everyone else their tastes in clothes furnishings run Brooks Brothers Burberry Giorgio Armani Ralph Lauren John-Paul Gautier Paul Smith Emile Zegna Salvatore Ferragamo their preference in women run typically blonde large ******* tight butts make-up painted nails they think Odysseus is a freak because he usually chooses females none of them want Odysseus likes skinny girls flat chests glasses he knows he is an extraneous art pet to Chris and his group

Chris joins newly built state of art fitness facility pricey membership accesses all of Chicago’s fast track shakers movers politicians lawyers pretty people Odysseus has his limits he does not have money to join also he dislikes snooty elitism several times Chris invites Odysseus as guest Odysseus feels insecure outsider Chris always includes Odysseus pays for dinners they begin with round of doubles then 2nd round of doubles before glancing at menu Chris drinks Canadian Club on the rocks Odysseus follows they raucously order extravagant meals with appetizers 3rd 4th 5th rounds of doubles after pricey dinner at chic restaurant Chris’s group rendezvous at bar or club they order round of drinks tip lavishly sip drink glare around room leave barely touched drinks walk out with look of disdain they scavenge more bars in search of females or some intangible attraction Odysseus is never certain what they are looking for or what is the source of their contempt each wears black leather jacket carries huge wads of cash $20s $50s $100s folded stuffed in front pockets no wallets or clips

the Red Meat palace or Chang’s Szechwan grill are their favorite restaurants as many as 8 men sit at table pack mentality prevails for dessert course they pull out small brown bottles filled with ******* if it is Friday night Chris’s pad is frequently elected females other arrangements settle bill depart restaurant one night Odysseus arrives early at Chang’s wanders downstairs into women’s boutique salesgirl named Fiona greets him they hit it off he invites her to join him and his hosts upstairs after her shift is done Fiona arrives as dessert is about to be served table of men look desirously at Fiona beams Odysseus and Fiona along with Chris Phil Tom go to Odysseus’s place Fiona is perhaps 22 petite lovely with deep blue eyes set wide apart long eyelashes brown thick hair cut to shoulders high ******* pink ******* fragrance of linden flowers delighted by male attention Fiona ***** fondles each men are quite intoxicated Odysseus and Phil are only capable to sustain erections Odysseus stares mesmerized at Fiona’s extraordinarily swollen ***** she notices his fixation grins blushing men shout commands but in actuality Fiona is in charge reducing each of them to little boys vying for her attention near conclusion she requests they form circle around her ******* on her chest she fondles them touches herself men laugh mockingly as if to compensate for their lack of performance Tom picks up plastic dart gun aims it at Fiona she laughs crawls on all fours Tom fires dart hitting her on **** Phil grabs gun from Tom reloads another dart suddenly it feels like fraternity stunt Odysseus goes along offended by his own complicity to him episode feels more like men having *** with each other than being with a woman telephone rings it is Odysseus’s latest love pursuit she tells him she is on her way over everyone rushes to put on clothes change bed sheets they depart within minutes she arrives finally ready after weeks of romancing to put out for him after that night when Chris and Odysseus get buzzed in bar Chris routinely speaks the line to women have you ever been done by 2 cousins one night at Green River tavern woman squeezes milk from her ****** into shot glass dares cousins to drink Chris laughing turns down her offer Odysseus shoots back shot of milk then takes swig of Irish whiskey cousins go see Billy Idol at Odysseus’s insistence they stand near front stage young girls screaming after show driving home in Chris’s Fiat Spider Chris complains his ears are ringing i don’t know how i’ll be able to work tomorrow Odysseus nods like he hears hollers out window hey little sister shotgun!

Mom and Dad want their son to enjoy fruits of burgeoning affluence they feel certain what they are doing is best for him they rent quarter seat at Chicago Mercantile Exchange they originally promised full seat but they are overextended Odysseus enrolls in trading course he learns to trade Certificates of Deposit and Eurodollars which are recently established markets suddenly Odysseus has lots of cash his parents are dishing out he does not know what he is doing newly launched markets lack investment and fleece young men of their parent’s money his friends surroundings change he loses sight of himself he is a thoroughly incompetent trader bleeding cash scatters money between harebrained panicked trades or ******* girls $1000. wristwatch when Mom and Dad see jewelry they become furious in a way he represents his parent’s design for how to build successful son yet their plan is going dreadfully wrong he wants to stand up speak out against Dad and Mom he is not courageous enough to counter their weight he wants to express with more assurance his passion to pursue painting and writing isn’t fact he graduated from art school evidence enough of his aspirations commodities exchange is last place in the world he belongs Odysseus is risk taker but he is not aggressive or entrepreneurial only lesson he has learned with respect to his parents is how to run away

by all appearances cousin Chris is brilliant trader in reality Chris is hooked up with powerful crooked brokers they use him as their bagman he covers losing trades and is compensated or offsets winning side of profitable trades subsequently dealt his share Chris is not a criminal he stumbles into profit-making situation when certain conditions are flexible to advantages Chris is diligent hard worker the vast sums of money he earns do not distort his personality he is always generous shielding of Odysseus gold trading pit becomes so shady S.E.C. intervenes relinquishing exchange’s contract Chris and his bosses walk away unscathed having made their bundles

Mom and Aunt Rita run social itinerary for family including birthdays holidays all other gatherings where family will meet changes by the minute depending on Mom and Aunt Rita’s caprice checking in by telephone at least an hour before is mandatory arriving at destination Mom and Aunt Rita insist on specific table location seating arrangement it is important they be seen viewed by others at restaurant they never sit near kitchen or washrooms or where there is too much noise light away from drafts who sits next to who is crucial round tables are their favorite preferring backs to wall looking out so they can nod wave Mom rules from proud pedestal Dad upholds chain of command sometimes he irritably gripes Aunt Rita immediately comes to Mom’s defense Dad points finger back off Rita you’re way out of line where do you come up with a remark like that Mom mediates Max that’s enough in a way the sisters are spoiled little girls over-indulged by their father they believe their opinions and tastes are the best most correct everyone in family are subordinate to their no and don’t Mom and Aunt Rita routinely criticize Odysseus’s semantics oppose his observations critical of his clothes conduct they handily misconstrue his comments to mean fodder for their amusement Mom and Aunt Rita’s efforts to keep prim proper decorum cause resentment Odysseus feels constricted by his subservient role in drama of family he fails to understand their care

Odysseus busts out of markets leaving behind alarming debts for family to pay off he feels humiliation disgrace plunges into bottomless sleepless despair hides in house door locked window shutters shut phone rings unanswered hates life willfully wants to destroy himself there is no way out after week Chris comes by to see if he is all right Odysseus is reluctant to let Chris in Chris commands be a man get a grip on yourself Odysseus replies maybe i’m not a man he feels failure shame realizes he has become traitor to himself he wants to look at existence head on embrace it but all he knows are dishonor regret deception he conceives his being has been stolen he wants his life back but knows not how to recover it he feels deep in obligation to Mom and Dad thinks to escape from Chicago but his parent’s control is crushing he wakes late drinks black coffee smokes cigarettes marijuana hangs out alone sky changes from light to dark to light phone rings he reads Nietzsche Sartre frequents ***** Hole punk rock dive several blocks from residence becomes orphan of night drinking drugging

January 5 2011 30 years have passed Chris marries fathers son becomes best father to his child he can be leaves markets in late 80’s Dad dies in ’91 Odysseus leaves Chicago in 1994 he manages to paint some paintings write some words stomach ties in knots biting lip shivering from cold fear what’s going to happen ***** pink gray skies behind pitch black in front sometimes you need to take a step back in order to move forward Mom says she worried enough about money when she was younger and isn’t going to worry about it anymore her entire life she boasted i’m saving for my children but in the end she saved solely for herself Odysseus never learned to stand on his own all he ever wanted is to love and be loved he wonders what will happen next
We women fold linen
some believe we live solely in the kitchen
we are a force of nature,
we nurture children, we are driven,
we kiss things better, we matter.

We women hold opinions
we women mould opinions,
where else but in the kitchen,
nurturing, washing, listening,
dishing wisdom with love.

We women are cloaked
in many roles,
politician, clinician,
villain, lover, mother, cook
smothering all under our cloak.

We women suffer more
due to our nature, we're also tougher
than a right hook!
Duck next time women are driven
to anger.

We women are the ignition
of life, love and understanding
we go by many names,
Mother, sister, aunt, wife and nan.
Our own name lost to time.

Would I want to be a man?
No.
We women are fruition,
we are magicians,
we are are giants in our own right.
© JLB
Aa Harvey Sep 2018
SCARED


SCARED of losing your place, SCARED of being pushed back.
SCARED of missing the bus, SCARED of getting the sack.
SCARED of your colleagues, SCARED of your boss.
SCARED of being late again, SCARED of losing your job.


SCARED of feeling the fool, SCARED of being a joke.
SCARED of being a loser, SCARED of what you just smoked.
SCARED of what was in it, SCARED of what you were given.
SCARED of what they gave you, SCARED of no longer living.


SCARED of not knowing;
SCARED of knowing too much.
SCARED of commitment;
SCARED of being able to trust.


SCARED of a horror movie, SCARED of spiders.
SCARED of not being beautiful, SCARED of what's inside us.
SCARED of being thought ugly, SCARED of being thought plain.
SCARED of being thought stupid, SCARED of trusting your brain.


SCARED of telling her, SCARED of her knowing.
SCARED of your feelings, SCARED of them showing.
SCARED of pain, SCARED of hurt.
SCARED of her, dishing the dirt.


SCARED of showing emotion, SCARED of crying.
SCARED of showing weakness, SCARED of dying.
SCARED of losing a pet, SCARED of losing a child.
SCARED of losing a loved one, SCARED of being too wild.
SCARED of the consequences, SCARED of what you might do.
SCARED of who you may harm, SCARED of them harming you.


SCARED of being a father, SCARED of being a mother.
SCARED of being cheated on, by your lover.


SCARED of being threatened, SCARED of being hit.
SCARED of pressing charges, SCARED no-one gives a ****.
SCARED of their reaction, SCARED of what they may do.
SCARED of them? Or SCARED of you?
SCARED of forgetting, SCARED of a lie.
SCARED of the judge, not being on your side.
SCARED of accusations, SCARED of being called a liar.
SCARED of them not being punished;
SCARED of getting any higher.


SCARED of being too happy, SCARED of always being sad.
SCARED of being optimistic, SCARED of feeling so bad.
SCARED of depression, SCARED of sadness.
SCARED of joy, SCARED of happiness.
SCARED of being so happy, you feel you can fly.
SCARED of losing your wings, SCARED of falling from the sky.
SCARED of being another Icarus,
SCARED of being another Moses.
SCARED of lying in a coffin, covered with roses.
SCARED of lying in the ground, SCARED of being buried alive.
SCARED to be like the stories, too SCARED to try.


SCARED of not being strong, SCARED of not being right.
SCARED of being proven wrong, SCARED of losing the fight.


SCARED of getting it wrong, SCARED of failing the exam.
SCARED of not getting in the army, SCARED of failing uncle Sam.
SCARED of being stabbed, SCARED of being shot.
SCARED of them taking, all that you've got.
SCARED of being held prisoner, SCARED of torture.
SCARED of dying in a war, SCARED of losing your only daughter.
SCARED of losing a sibling, SCARED of losing a friend.
SCARED of your parents, SCARED of them meeting their end.


SCARED of living forever, SCARED to death.
SCARED of the end, SCARED of taking your last breath.


SCARED of being a memory, SCARED of being forgot.
SCARED of nobody caring, SCARED of losing all you've got.
SCARED of losing your memory, SCARED of getting old.
SCARED of alzheimer’s, SCARED of being put in a home.


SCARED of being buried, SCARED of no one knowing your name.
SCARED of your wife dying, SCARED you'll forget her name.
SCARED of nobody being there, when you finally die.
SCARED of being cremated, SCARED of being burnt alive.
SCARED of being dissected, SCARED of being cut up.
SCARED of necrophilia, SCARED of that wooden box.


SCARED of being a fable, SCARED of being a myth.
SCARED of just being a story, SCARED you didn't exist.
SCARED of being made up, SCARED of not really being here.
SCARED of what you've been told;
SCARED of what you didn't hear.


SCARED of facing God, SCARED of having no answers.
SCARED of going to Hell, SCARED of having no more chances.



(C)2005 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
I'm clever almost never
That's untrue, I am quite daft
I once came close to dying,
I got stuck under a raft
Sarcasm is my strong suit,
I use it when I can
This fact became a nuisance,
When I worked for Uncle Sam

In class I played the clown,
I was often tightly wound
Always acting out
The court jester to the crown
I know how this must sound
A rotten apple on the ground
Just don't beat me while I'm down
I might shock you with the knowledge
I still have parents who are proud

See, Im verbally proficient
Surprisingly efficient
I'd cast you out like bait
Cause I’d much rather be fishing
I'd cut you down with such precision
If this was my decision
Without any permission
I'd stitch up your incision
That seeps down in your torso
And turn it into a tradition

My verbiage is unrelenting
Savage and outstanding
There's thought behind my speak
I'm a primed linguistic freak
Destroying all on-comers
Feasting on the weak
Tiptoeing like a sneak
Subdued and quite discrete
Let's hope we never meet
If we do you should retreat
Along with your whole fleet
Like the shepherd to his sheep
Go on head back to momma
Continue ******* on her tete

You can't handle what I'm dishing out
It only adds to my mystique
I'm steadily reminiscing
Back to when Caesar led the Greeks
Conquering all his enemies  
Well established as elite

Your eyes were shaded by a vision
When stricken with a nasty condition
Embarking on failed missions
Should I even bother dissing?
All while leaving a lasting impression
On the mouth you never were kissing
To only end up missing
The target you were *******
Without help or assisting

From beginning to the end
I'm burning bridges I can't mend
Breaking all the rules no one would think to bend
Born to live until we're dead
No more all this wishing
That you were dead instead
Using the brains inside our head
And coming to a conclusion
Your brains' been underfed
Relying on the masses
To muster up intent
Resolving every problem
With a bandaid made of lead
Surviving on a crumb of bread
Its only temporary
A fazed out forgotten trend
Like disco and bellbottoms
Or mohawks and shaved heads

It's time we payed back our debt
Make sure the homeless are all fed
Put these issues to rest
Tucked away in bed
It's not time for story telling
The fairytales of past regret
Back before our needs were met
Finding solutions to our problems
We mustn't ever forget
More a rap than a poem. Had fun writing this
Arlene Corwin Dec 2018
It’s simply amazing what phrases pop into one’s head and stick - and as they stay there they develop, and as they develop the inner life takes over and what started out a superficial bit of twaddle turns into poetry of some substance, proving anything can become anything with a little bit of reflection.

      I Am A Housewife

I am a housewife.
Organize and deputize,
Buy and cook,
See that everything’s delicious,
Making dishes at my best,
Matching wish of man and guest.


Preserving and conserving, I economize,
Hunting down the clever buys
So there’s savings at year’s end.  
Mix and blend creatively,
And when I shop
I stop and hesitate; contemplate
And seldom buy on impulse.
That said, I occasionally fall and do.

But mostly, shopping for our food’s
A yoga.  So’s the
Washing, cooking, dusting…more;
The most and best health giving chore:
Hands cleaner in the water,
Waistline smaller, reaching up and for…

No breadwinner,
But a winner baking bread.
Cakes and cookies all included.
For, of course, the friends and husband
Whom I feed,
Try to supply each need
Not because it is ‘the done thing’
But because it is the fun thing.

Then there’s me.  Filled with creativity.
Actually, a private soul
With my own needs to feel whole.
I do not underplay the housewife role
As many in society
Who downplay tractability and duty.
For to me it stands for beauty,
Not for slavery.

I am a being who serves house,
Deserves the house,  My house!  Our house!  
No mouse by any means
But combination heroine
And superstar,
Dishing out the wonder
Of existence
With insistence and persistence
For a comfy coexistence
Dishing out the dishes
And a family’s wishes.

I Am A Housewife 12.23.2018 Circling Around Woman II; Arlene over Woman II; Arlene Nover Corwin
Ignatius Hosiana Feb 2016
Despite everything that's happened
Despite the mistreatment of our own
Despite the suppression & oppression
Despite the mambas in big numbers
Despite the silencing of the nation
Despite the heavy deployment on the streets
Despite the gas that our eyes mistreats
Despite the despair prevailing in the air
Despite the scare,the arrests that are unfair
Despite the government condemnation
of those battling our incarceration
Despite the fact that some are starving
because electronic mobile money transfer is off
Despite the looming loss and fraudulent tally
Despite the gloomy faces we all wear, the sully
Despite the rage burning through us for many a reason
The main one being the compromise of our peaceful
struggle out of the manacles of this corrupt regime
despite many being voiceless in prison
Despite the treacherous Telecom companies
assisting the tyrant keep us on our bruised knees
Despite the malnourished kids along the streets
despite the expectant mothers fearing for their life
because the best Hospital in the country has no doctors
& the disgruntled interns trying to help and teachers
despite the lives lost in the election scuffle fueled by police
despite the opposition constant arrest and release
the rise in the prices of everything but value of nothing
despite the arrogance of those profiting from the tyranny
despite the dishing out of cash to bribe voters
& the lining up of cattle to have more votes than voters
Despite the furthering hope for eminent change
despite the lead of the incumbent by a ridiculous range
I still love my country and I still believe change will come
even if the despot rules for a thousand a term
I still believe a day is coming when we shall say
"At last, the man is history,this country is now for the people"
I dream of that day, it should have been yesterday
But despite the fact that any dictatorship
tends to want power for permanent keep
Someday from the fountains of change we shall sip
I still believe,albeit such freedom isn't a one day trip
On behalf of all who turned up to cast their votes
thank you for not just talking but also walking
thank you for the courtesy you're giving to the next generation
at least we know we shall have answers in clear narration
to our children and their children, each and every question
Don't give up...to me the fight is just started
And still, even a president has got but one neck
Change is guillotine, someday it catches up
Don't give up for you have come so far and see so much
If you were about to surrender, I hope this your heart can touch
Despite all the challenges our struggle is facing
Let's stay focus toward justice and fairness chasing
Yes, we have fallen more than we deserve
it may feel but someday someone will appreciate your love
One Uganda, one people... in change we believe
For God and my country, I love Uganda
I love you all...Don't give up
For everyone in struggle against dictatorship. I'm proud of you
Taylor Jul 2012
The soft texture tickled her toes
And she was quick to replace her bare foot,
Searching for a place free of the
Delicate petals
That fell from her hands.

Twelve more fragile futures fell to the ground,
Collecting in an indecisive heap
Whose beautiful, red hues
Played tricks with the sun,
Filling her head with illusions
That all will be alright.

She slashed at the other flowers
Standing tall and proud around her,
Dancing with the wind
To heart stopping lyrics
Sung in a language she could not understand.
Tearing them up from the roots,
She cursed their peaceful attitude
And cold, heartless souls
That continued to exude radiance
As they teased her fragile heart,
Dishing out good and bad news
With a lovely toss of their golden center.

It began to rain on their flawless figures,
Yellow drops burning imperfect circles
Through the otherwise perfect surface of their petals.
For minutes, it continued to pour on the flowers,
The large bottle held in the girl's trembling hand,
Marked kerosene,
Seemed to never run dry,
Drowning the roots in a deadly poison.

"He loves me not!"
She shouted,
Tossing the bottle aside,
Only after showering herself in the
Polluted rain,
Becoming momentarily fixated on the way she reflected the light
With dozens of drops clinging to her skin.

The lighter was ruby red,
Just like the petals who told of such a gloomy future.
She had purchased it at the drug store because of its color,
Her reflection bathed in red hid her uneven skin tone,
Making her for the first time an image of beauty.  

Flames took to the parched earth
Like a teenage girl to dreams of happily ever after.
Petals turned to ashes
And skin to a yellow, melted liquid,
Which fueled the inferno better than the yellow rain.

Blistered fingers still held the lighter,
The only thing visible in the dark,
Smoky air.
She clung to the image of her reflection,
Staring at the face that had never been loved,
And never would be,
Long after flames took her sight.
My take on "He loves me, he loves me not."
Marie-Chantal Oct 2014
It's an animal beastly thing wrapped up warm in stigmas headlines daydreams sleepdreams ice cream headspin. pain.
Sirens call in my upper chest or my abdomen, maybe. a ****** sea. fish of mens' hooks eels and seaweed wound around aorta blood pumping mind squeezing toes cracking new blister dried fluid. cracks and flakes a flushing cycle, not over the **** yet.
salty eyes heavy chest silver parcels unending quest not shiny particles. Head spin crack of dawn hey look the moon is gone. observed the craters they were my neighbours a hole in my heart like the one......
Don't play mean i try and try green bean carrot pencil brush pen, still here? Run! too hard. Curdling scream turns sour on my tastebuds my tongue has been dissatisfied. Add it to the list! lately I know these things should not have been acknowledged. Bed. No. Kitchen work? Yes. Hurts me through and through and I know it's because it is me and it cannot be handled but it settled in the pit of my stomach and it made itself a happy home. I HATE IT.

BLOOD:
juice
gore
cruor
claret
hemoglobin
sanguine fluid
clot
plasma
vital fluid


why would I ever use blood?

Porous salt bruises help mind chooses slugs and moths but i want insects like ladybird bees. Keep me weak and feed me lies because not once did you see me you only looked right past me. how does it feel, little peach, to be dishing out bowls of dinky lies. i ate it you were trusted you were good there's just so many people coming.

when the moon rises and the sky twinkles lights about you its easy to be sad but its time for you to *blossom
A total stream of consciousness. It is utterly lacking in another y structure or logical punctuation/capitalisation. I'd love to hear some feedback
Thomas Steyer Jul 2021
When we see what some people are dishing out,
we know what Bertrand Russell was talking about:
"The stupid are cocksure, the intelligent full of doubt."

When you meet someone who thinks he's clever,
but seems much too confident in his endeavour,
and talks to you non stop and forever and ever.

When he acts like a prophet defying convention,
never admitting a lack of comprehension,
promptly has a cure for everything you mention.

When he hands out his advice on a silver platter
convincing you that his opinions matter,
you can be certain, he's as mad as a hatter.
There are people trying to convince you that the world is flat.
Becky Littmann Jun 2014
Some days I swear my brain in burning....
Just can't ignore it, it's too distracting
& honestly quite disturbing
But the ******* just keeps on occurring
****!!....See I can feel it now, it's returning
I don't know what the **** is going down in my brain
It's so intense & twisted, I  wouldn't even begin to know how to explain....
....I suppose, maybe, it's like you're trippin' on acid while listening to Black Hole
Sun  or Acid Rain
There's so much going on, it's more than I can handle, too much to contain
& this happens daily, pretty soon it'll be all sanity ****** into the drain
Now see.....there it went, just as quickly as it came
It's a complete & utter mind **** game
Just when I start to enjoy it
It tells me, JUST KIDDING, I QUIT!!!
I'm getting ******* tired of its ****!!
Either go away & don't return
Or ******* stay & commit
But this come & go
None sense I'm beginning to really ******* hate
I'm not interested in what you're dishing out upon your plate
Because every time I attempt to sample off it, I end up in some twisted mental
state
Locked away for not two, three or four days double that!!
YUP ******* EIGHT!!
After finally coming back to reality
& clearing up my damaged mentality
Yup, there goes a little more of my integrity
Before you know it, I'll be judged by the eyes of society
But you know what....
**** IT, it will only make better & I'll remain, still, with my sick ***
personality
So bring it on random feeling
Throw your worst at me,
You'll get 86'd like Al Kapone
I'm now in savage mode
Nothing's going to mess with me, not even your tightest hold
So tell me.... "How does it feel to be shut out in the cold?"
I've figured out your evil mission & it sure as hell will be made
IMPOSSIBLE!!
Because this girl right here is simply unstoppable
So hurry up & hop back on your little tricycle
You wouldn't want to freeze up now, like a popsicle
&& that's how you win a fight without once getting physical
So here I'm left to sit alone
All I'm left with are pupils noticeably dilated
After my brain was rudely invaded
Like it was a trap house getting ransacked & raided
But I was done being mind ****** & violated
With all I had in me I fought & I can proudly say I MADE IT!
So the results are in....
&& guess what *******....I WIN!!
Francie Lynch Mar 2017
Love is a dish best served cold.
Or should that  be revenge?
Often they're interchangeable,
As the outcome is similar.
It's wise to fear both,
Both unexpected
And most anticipated... and dreaded.
They come out of the blue.
I excel at neither,
Though I keep my platter
On a low shelf.
Big Virge Oct 2020
Well It Seems Nowadays...    

THAT..." Black Lives Matter "..... ?
Well I'd Say THE HUMAN Factor...  
Is What We SHOULD RECAPTURE... !!!!!!!!  
IN FACT What I Mean Is... "Capture"... !!!  

Because My Lifes' Chapters...  
HAVEN'T SEEN Too Much Data...    
That Humans In Their Manner...  
Are Living By... That Standard...    

There's NO Doubting THAT... !!!  
When It Comes To ATTACKS...  
That Are Made Against Blacks...  

Humanity LACKS...  
What It Is To RETRACT...  
And.... RECOGNISE....  
That Di-vi-s-ive Vibes    
Are... TAKING Lives... !!!!!  
And DIVI-D-ING Tribes... !!!!!  

You See SUBJECT MATTER...  
I DEAL IN.... HAMPERS....  
Those Who Hanker...  
To Work With FAKE DATA...  

FAKE Like.... TANNERS....  
Standing By Standards...  
Doubled Up And Captured  
By Their...  Actions... !!!  

STICKING To Factions...  
Thought Waves FRACTURED... !!!  
BELIEVE ME Sadness...  
Forms Their MADNESS...  

Anger Now S C A T T E R E D ...  
TATTERED And SPLATTERED...  
Like Matter That's SHATTERED... !!!!!!  

You See... Subjects I Factor...  
In Thoughts That I Capture...  
Within My Lyrical...  
Are Criminally Cynical... !!!  
According To Political...  
Subjects INADMISSIBLE... !!!

In Verse of Mine EMPIRICAL...  
Because of THEM I'm CRITICAL.... !!!!!

Via Subject Matter That Simplifies Data...
They Use To Confuse Through NEW AGE Tools... !!!      

Where Matter Is Subject...  
To MUCH That INFECTS...  
Todays' Internet Heads...    

From Online ***...  
To Conspiracy Threads...  

And OF COURSE A WHOLE SET...    
of... " TERRORIST Trends "... !!!!!  

Now Police Have Been Left...    
FEELING Bullets Instead...  
of... Dishing Out DEATH... !!!

Whose Matter Will Be Left...  
To FACE Bullets of LEAD... !?!  

Or Bombs That NOW Defend... ?  
By Blowing OFF Peoples' Heads... !?!  

Something Like ALL These Rappers...  
Who CLAIM That They Are GANGSTERS...  

AND ****** Like Gun Clappers...    
Well Now Its CLEAR They're ACTORS... !!!!!
Whose Chatter Runs... FAKE Data...  

Their Lyrics Deal In... DEATH...  

" Bringing The Pain " ... Like ****'... !!!!!  
But NOT TO... RACIST Feds'... !!?!!  

So MUCH Like... " Them "...  
Things That They STRESS... !!!!  
In Their... " Poems "...  
Are In Need of YES.....  

... Auto CORRECT... !!!!!!  

For LIES They Tell...  
About How They FLEX... !?!

While Blacks With SENSE...  
Face THREATS From Them... ?!?!?  
For... Dealing In TRUTH...  
Instead of Tools...  
Just To Get Some Street CRED'... ?!?  

So Like Bernie Mac' Said...  
TOO MANY Black Youths...  
Are Becoming NEW FOOLS... !!!

They Just FOLLOW The Trends...  
To Get Themselves AHEAD...    

YES... Subjects I SELECT...  
May UPSET CERTAIN Heads... ?  

But NOT Quite Like... !!!  
The LOSS of A Friend...  
OVER... IGNORANCE Bred...  
From A DIFFERENCE of Opinion... ?  
Religion or Dominion...

Or The Skin That People Live In... !?!?!  

This Piece Has Got Me...    
........ " THINKING ".........  

That Things Are NOW...  
...... So SICKENING...... !!!  

That People REALLY NEED...  
Some Form of UPLIFTMENT'... !!!

Well YES That's TRUE... !!!  
But FACING The Truth...  
Has To Be The FIRST MOVE... !!!!  

But THAT With PROOF... !!!    

NOT Media News...  
With Views AskeW...  

Cos' I'm TELLING You... !!!  
They're Making Moves...  
...... AGENDA Fuelled......  

To Confuse And Sep-a-rat-e....  
Through Religion And RACE... !!!  

It's CLEAR There Are Scales...  
That NEED TO BE BALANCED... !!!

And Leaders Whose Actions...  
NOW NEED TO BE CHALLENGED... !!!!!  

So Let Me END This Chapter...    
By Simply Saying... THIS...  

REMEMBER There Are FACTORS...  
Beyond Feelings That... "Capture"...  
Your ANGER Into RAPTURE...    
That's MADDER Than The HATTER... !!!!!  

And FEEDS Like VELOCIRAPTORS... !!!!!  

So DON'T Deny The Crimes You See... !!!  
Because of PRIDE Or A COMPLEX That...  
You CHOOSE To.................. "hide"...................  

Take The Time To TRY...  
To... OPEN UP Your Mind....  
To TRUTH, Falsehoods And LIES...  

And DELVE INTO The DATA...  
Where The ONLY FACTOR...  
That REALLY Matters....  

Is The QUALITY of...  

It's....  

....... " Subject Matter "......
This is from the, " On The Virge ", album, released in 2020.  
Take a listen here :    

https://soundcloud.com/user-16569179/subject-matter-1?in=user-16569179/sets/on-the-virge
Freds not dead Mar 2011
Everyone around me
      I guess I’m at the center
Is coughing, coughing in the warm sunny day
                        The blue bright happy day
They cough like they dig at life
They cough the toy-factory worker’s cough
The cough dressed in summer dresses
In high heels and red shoes and tuxedoes
Cough up wine cough up cheers and congratulation
Cough out their
“don’t worry about it” sickness
cough out pop songs, cough up boppin’ along
cough out vows and Hallmark poetry
cough deathbed knock-knock jokes
“it’s me, Death, coming for your blue-eyed boys”
cough out laughter like phlegm
cough up black bile as a party trick
cough up recollection of stuffed animals
(you and I are in there)
gasp for breath, their faces filling up with blood
going from apple-red to royal purple
eyes dishing out tears
a pat on the back
and everything is okay
people are wrong
about the center holding.
The internal battle..eternal....(one from the vault)


Lucifer and Jehovah dancing some mad bossa nova

While angels on horse backs fought devils with black jacks

The white dove of peace had surrendered his lease

So God ripped off his wings.. he no longer sings

Then the Devil ripped out his heart so it could end at the start.

Wagner and Chopin got frightened..

..and off they ran.

But Beethoven and Bach were sat in the park

Composing arias to fight Hells hot fires.

While Chekhov and Handel burned coramandel

But the smoke from that pyre stank like a byre.

Socrates was sat dispensing the ethics

Hippocrates swore while dishing out medics

The Muses were musing one or two were enthusing

Oooh look.. the good against sinner

Let's go down the bookies and have a bet on the winner.

Cometh the day cometh the morn

Cometh the hour cometh the dawn.

Here is Joshua blowing his horn

And here comes Gabriel but all that he meets

Are the countless dead lining up on the streets

And the wounded and deathbound far far below

I feel sorry for Gabriel I wish he could go.

But Picasso arrives and cries

My God it's my Guernica I'll do a pastiche

Oh F*ck it he says and has a pastis (or two)

Then Pollack turns up totally ******

Picks up a paint and says what I have missed?

What a fantastic sight.. angels flashing demons crashing

The hounds of Hell with teeth a gnashing

Then Neptune arrives astride his watery chariot

Scything through Demons and sat beside Judas Iscariot

Mermen and mermaids mercilessly slayed

By Beelzebubs prototypes

Those that live in the black nights.

But as the dawn breaks God knows what it takes

So he sends for his legions calls out to all regions

Take arms and do battle

Till we hears Satans death rattle.

And the heavens rip asunder to the sound of the thunder.

Satan rings on Hells bell.. tells them all is not well

Then disappears from our sight as if he's turned off the light.

Then I awake with a start knowing that I've been a part

Of something vast something grand

A spiritual war being fought in this land

I am alive and I shall survive.

PRAISE BE.
David Ayres May 2013
The Spirit bomb, an astrological bond, one's soul is gone, drowning in some pond of self-reflections.
A fantastic plan, with a swift wave of your hand, storms spawned to creation and hide the life-giving sun, quite overwhelming for some.
A pair of enchanted paradise swans, fawn over the other to shine forth the calm-bringer, the sister and brother, from one father and mother, some sort of creator or another.
Flutter over nests of destruction, plotted taxed lands from some great nation of abduction.
Some ******* nut takes a crack and starts building some destroying station of war. A nurtured relation, branded straight from emancipation. Granted permission to dream, granted permission to score, a silent scream, and twisted avocation of means, to become a ******* conglomerate stone, ****** out of your love-drunk mind, well thought out, well wrote. You note the crazy schemes of some bloke, clouded and choked out on the spindle of passion that dwindles.
An ignited flame once enkindled, blossoms up from your windowsill.
Still spilling more silly meaning to life, quite the light we got, right?
Dishing out your thoughtless waste of despair, as some desperate stranger of danger casts shadowy scars on a scare. Emotionally teared, wearing a cloak of danger and destruction, beware.
Directions of  death's stare, brings you to the wrong side of the lawn.
Tested and bested, your entire fragile being grows stronger.
A glowing peace-monger brought among us, clowning and frowning on useless sorrow, working towards a brighter tomorrow.
A distraction of impaired hollows that swallow your goals whole, life sure is taking it's toll, spitting and ******* you out on some strange and foreign shore. You'll learn to keep roaring for more knowledge of ancient wisdom that's stored in tiny glass vials, evermore. Imploring spirits, swirling in a massive, abysmal void, while seeking out another vessel and droid.
Exploiting chords of beautiful music is kissed on the faces of the missed. Best wishes!
Dished out on the paper you write another poetic vision that assists the songs of hopeful travelers abroad. Setting out on adventurous travels, that unravels marvelous mysteries and beauty, enameled on bland and barren lands.  
Wishing wells and swishing swells of free-flowing rivers, amongst endless givers of calm, and grand oceans of drawn out motions, be strong.
The Spirit bomb blows off, out into the dawn of new horizons.
The Sun is rising, then gone.
Masego Pitso Oct 2018
The Anti pesticides have lost their true function, they have denatured and have been deprived from all  working authorities.
They have guarded the garden with dignity and devotion.

Pests around my garden. They surround it like infected pimples oozing pus of jealousy , gossips and animosity.

The flowers wilt ,leaves turn brown and ashy. Pests drains its soul, they absorb all the lively juices it has left. And has left it with thousands of wrinkles.

Pests in my royal garden don't make sounds anymore. They speak the language of the innocent and say we're "related". Some say we're best friends.

They crawl and wonder around with no purpose. When it's flowers bloom and spring has come for a festival of celebration, they gather around and smile. Dishing out compliments like it's open season.

Behind the walls, they multiply and transform into the green snakes they are.

They hiss silently, all dressed up in skimpy dresses, expensive quality hair and designer shoes.
Their scent is similar to that of a corpse.

Pests in my royal seem to be highly educated, they even utter words like "I love you" and "I'm so happy for you".

They slither around my garden like wondering demons on an impossible mission to destroy.

-pests in my royal garden.
katewinslet Oct 2015
Gesundes Essen ist eine Sache, aber finden und zu halten frische Bio-Olivenöl sowie Essig ist etwas ganz anderes. Verwaltung unserer Gewicht braucht nicht durch weltlichen Ernährungsgewohnheiten durchgeführt werden. Cabl wissen, frische Blattsalate können helfen. And so Essig und Öl baseball hat sich zu einem Grundnahrungsmittel für zahlreiche von uns. Italienisches Essen, Balsamico-Vinaigrette, sowie sogar fabelhafte Brot Eintauchen Rezepten müssen das beste Öl und Essig für guten Geschmack. Thus, nachdem cabl hochwertige Gewürze, wie wir halten sie frisch noch richtig auf der Tabelle dargestellt? Dishing out Essig sowie Öl auf dem Tisch baseball hat on home Jahren mühsam. Etliche verschiedene Arten von crucis haben nur für diese eine Notwendigkeit gemacht. Die richtige Lagerung von Olivenöl ist notwendig, dass cease to live Qualität und der Geschmack uncontaminated zu bleiben sowie die ernährungsphysiologischen Vorteile intakt bleiben. I am Laufe der Jahrhunderte, Öl und Essig crucis wurden aus zahlreichen Materialien hergestellt worden. Cabl wissen jetzt, kick the bucket besten Behälter für pass on Speicherung von Olivenöl sowie Essig sind Glas, Keramik, oder Porzellan. Realmente es ist wichtig zu wissen, Kunststoffbehälter sind nicht fantastic für beiden Würze. Other frischen Geschmack länger zu halten, sollte Olivenöl sowie Essig Shifts a good einem kühlen Ort ohne direkte Sonneneinstrahlung gelagert werden. Das Most effective wäre with einem Glasbehälter ist. Öl oder Essig sollte nicht in einem Kunststoffbehälter gelagert, weil sie das Wooden aus dem Kunststoff absorbiert werden kann. Glas Essig sowie Öl crucis sind außergewöhnliche Geschenkartikel. Sie fungieren wie the best, um ordnungsgemäß zu lagern Ihre Olivenöl sowie Essig, sowie werden immer beliebter. Heute Gourmet-Küchenutensilien sowie Produkte werden nach dem für die-off Praktikabilität und Neuheit gesucht Günstige Samsung Galaxy S5. Ein Gourmet-Geschenk ist when it comes to der Regel einer der Wert und Qualität, wobei diese für depart this life perfekte Geschenkidee wesentlich. Messkännchen bietet mundgeblasenem Glas crucis von Europa, das Glas with Glasbehältern haben. Ein Innengefäß hält bedroom Essig und der äußere Behälter speichert das Olivenöl Samsung galaxy s6 edge+. Jedes Glas Menage head wear zwei Ausgießer auf dems gleichen Öl und Essig Spender. Cease to live mundgeblasene Glasbehälter sind tasteful eingerichtet und bieten ein anspruchsvoller Weg, other Öl sowie Essig auf dem Tisch bieten, aus dems gleichen Dekanter.

The Grapes Cruet, depart this life eine Give durchgebrannt Glas Traube Behälter kennzeichnet, when it comes to einem Glas zylindrischen Körper, ist sehr populär für Gourmet-Küchen. Cease to live Traube cruet etwa dems Durchmesser einer Flasche Wein sowie ist leicht durch einer Give verwendet. Sie werden sie mehr sowie mehr auf feine Esstischen von einigen der besten Gourmetrestaurants Amerikas zu sehen. Essig und Öl throughout der Traube cruet gespeichert sind, wird eine lange Zeit zu halten. Das Olivenöl wird mehr wie ein Jahr, for that reason lange eng anliegende Korken verwendet werden, zu halten. Trying to keep sowohl Essig und Öl luftdicht ist entscheidend für kick the bucket Halte Geschmack. The actual Grape Cruet verfügt über ein beeindruckendes Develop, das vergrößert wird, wenn das Olivenöl i'm Glas gefüllt. Die-off Glaskunst ist geschmackvoll sowie gibt eine elegante Erklärung auf jedem Esstisch. Das perfekte Geschenk für pass away Feiertage, perish Trauben Cruet Eigenschaften: Hitzebeständige technisch europäischen Glas Schön einzigartige mundgeblasene Glas-Design Samsung galaxy s6 edge+ 32GB. Zwei Funktionsgläser when it comes to Glasgefäßen, um Ihren Essig sowie Öl zu trennen. Hergestellt dauerhafte Abgabe Olivenöl und Balsamico-Essig i am Modify zu sein. Hermetic individuelle bartop Korken für beide Ausläufe. europäische Handwerkskunst sowie Qualität.

All the Grape Essig sowie Öl Menage ist eines der innovativsten und funktionsDekanTern werden Sie zum Essen zu finden. Seine bemerkenswerte Entwurf ist sicher, das Auge der alle Ihre Gäste zu fangen, während Sie eine geschmackvolle sowie elegante Erklärung auf Ihrem Esstisch. ein Gourmet-Geschenk-Set, das eine Trauben Menage mit importierten Olivenöl sowie Balsamessig aus Modena ist ein ideales Geschenk für jeden Anlass einschließlich Housewarmings und Feiertage. And also, realmente es ist ein interessantes Gespräch Stück, das zu immer geredet wird.
Relate Articles:
http://samsungphone.thendvr.com
Samsung galaxy s6 edge+ 32GB,Samsung galaxy s6 edge+,Günstige Samsung Galaxy S5
ellis danzel May 2014
The memory of you may fade someday, just as the scars on my body. Equally the pain you left behind may never be seen to the naked eye, but you don't need a microscope to decipher the origin of my torture.

The moment I decided to begin to forget you, my body began to fight back. Attempting a last ditch effort to stay committed to you. It continued to taunt me. Reminding me time and time again that resisting the urge to love you was an ugly futile effort that most likely acted as the key factor to my demise.

You are a part of me. No matter how much I fight it. You moulded me into something so vile and vindictive, yet so passionate and loving.

In breaking me, you taught me how to love. And what to avoid. And how to reject someone.

This is brainwash I'm spewing. I still believe that who you made me to be is actually someone I need to be. Consequently I'm lost whenever you are around because without you I cannot function.

My thoughts are tirades. My emotions are garbage. You might as well give me a name tag that says Oscar because day by simple little day I still wallow in the filth you created through the mind games and the mental torture.

You abused my gullible delicate soul. My fragile heart couldn't bare to watch me suffer so I broke off a part of it and left it behind as a parting gift. For you and only you.

How ****** up must I have been to deem you the only recipient of my good byes. I was only dishing out what you wanted hear... What you trained me to do.

I may have gotten rid of you, but what you left behind were the unbearable scars of your love.

I can't breath through the PTSD.
I can't breath through the foggy memory of your love.

I loved you, but you broke me.

Your love is a torture that I don't have the luxury of abandoning.

You bled me dry. Every fiber belongs to you.

To this day, I still strive to please you.

That is the sick truth of our love.
david badgerow Nov 2011
i'm dawning
i'm dashing
i'm dancing
i'm dwelling
i'm dying
i'm digging
i'm dishing
i'm diving
i'm dozing
i'm dragging
i'm dabbling
i'm drawing
i'm dropping
i'm dosing
i'm dredging
i'm dreaming
i'm drifting
i'm drinking
i'm driving
i'm delaying
i'm drowning
i'm dumping
i'm drilling

i'm dandy
i'm doleful
i'm delicious
i'm dapper
i'm daring
i'm dangling
i'm dangerous
i'm damaged
i'm ******
i'm daily



i'm david
i just went thru some online lists and picked out what i wanted...
Linking the spotlight into the dark score
Rutting out the jagged envelopes that
Refuse to be opened, clinging onto their
Sticky tape with a passion;  Don't ask me for
Release, I'm shuttered up, swathes of emotive
Blankets worn out from their duty to keep me
Warm; to blot out the morning light from
Penetrating my skull.  Shame.....sorry self
Introduced to the firing line.  BANG....the snaked
Tongued 'Medusa' who entangles her mind
With vipers, serpents dishing out their forked
Shots of maggot infection, generating wormy
Warriors burrowing into the ruby red warmth
Chewing and bubbling neuron to neuron
Exploding at boiling point into a vast mix up
A collision on course, snapped in two, vibrating
With sheer panic, wrapped in destruction.......

Utter bilge.......built this bridge
So I'll knock it down..............
                                              ­    to start anew
And so I smile.......
Ian Webber Feb 2012
What is my mother like?
Perhaps she is a bespectacled story weaver
knitting tales that stretch the imagination.
That would explain my itch to write.
What if she is a food critic wielding a pen
dishing out opinions and parrying rebuttals.
That would explain my desire for food.
What if she is a state- of-the-art Neurologist  
stretching the frontier of the dream state.
That would explain my desire for sleep.

But what if she isn’t.

What if she sleeps all day, drinks sake all night,
doesn’t miss me, forgets to kiss her husband, doesn’t have a husband
needs her sons help, is throwing away another child.
One of my siblings.
How many sisters do I not know? How many brothers have slipped between the cracks?
My yellow mother
won’t ever know me.
I don’t want to know her.
Fah Jul 2013
I have information channeling in from the past through my DNA
i am an open portal to receive the teachings of ancient tantric left hand paths ,
my mother accepted her teaching from an aged midwife with no daughter , she taught her the power of intuition and the secret ways to move between realms without being detected

And this teaching is so secret that only now do i see the lessons,
She wove them into games we played and how she dressed herself , held herself
I run quickly with the tumbling lessons falling out of pasts giant lips painted in the sunset sky ,
i can read the clouds for messages , they never fail , the moon too sends her cool wisdom
i can read people quickly and see through to their highest self , but it takes energy so i must cultivate myself

i am a garden and flowers burst through my skin and out from behind my eyes wild roses grow , to fall into the pit of my stomach and be burnt by the roaring sun inside
after a while the alchemical process subsides and i distill the free magic scent
from which i add a whiff or two to my wrists before i leave home , this is a protection shield of the highest order

take heed if these words talk to your soul , because then you will know i have a message to deliver

The collision of two planes will destroy both ( metaphysically) giving rise to a merged existence that holds qualities of each parent,
yet,
totally new aspects from our current mentalities , thus the cycle can only be compleated when we are ready , each one will find their own turn and preahps a path they would do well to learn is the path of the soul , mind and body

The collapse of ridged belief systems and debt binders ( physically) will mark the border lines , the doldrums where the weak are prayed upon like a pastor dishing out blessings to the congregation

And my friend , in amongst the mess there will be those who would do well to lead you astray , hold fast , as long as you know your own heart the ripples will only fuel you instead of decay

We are speeding up to convergence , can you feel it?
*up to date*
Eliza E Jan 2016
how hard can it be to love someone filled with a chronic emptiness in the place of emotions
and eye lids that stay open long after the lights have dimmed because they are
swimming in intrusive waters belonging to a diseased mind
always wondering when you will leave
so they push you away even when their heart demands that you stay
demands that they will pay for
over and over and over
in the form of playing the villian in the relationship
by unintentionally tearing the two of you apart
until the only thing left to do is leave
the one thing that people in their life excel at

how hard can it be to maintain a friendship with someone who wants to abandon you
before you abandon them
playing tug of war with the thought of just never speaking to you again
even though you are one of their favorite people
trying to make the inevitable "easier"
because nothing lasts forever in their world
not even when they want it to
"best friends forever" is hard to cling on to
when they are convinced that the person smiling in their face
is also plunging knives into their back at every turn

how hard can it be to be the person dishing out all of these punishments
knowing that she is only punishing herself
punishing anyone who tries to get close to her in the twisted belief that she is saving them
from her gravitational personality
and her stellar smile
that can only end in disaster
because there is no beauty at the center of a black hole
only the absence of being

j.e.m (1/14/2016)
onlylovepoetry Apr 2018
dark and darker #2: the audio of innards weeping



some long ago scribbled and scribed and now just
a stumbled on this phrase that was then and is now again against

a sad Good Friday with plenty of spare time to review and
listening to busted love songs, the written but not imprinted,
of the anthology of good gone girl poems,
a yesteryear of a decaded decaying life recorded in poetry

my innards weep for me us her -
we were perfected as
perfect could have been
designed-dreamt by humans

this poem by design cannot rhyme
for the rhythmic audio
is gone and now it is only soundings of
my innards weeping self-condolences
of which I write

it just happens - even disney movies have to have
assorted sometimes sordid endings where people disarray

the dreaming of get away schemes where the
absence of this eroding dishing out of little cuts
seems the better of the unwell-being of being love-in-absentia

and the sad love songs blockchain seems to have no ending
and the audio of my innards weeping are the now the
only perfect chorus of human imperfections
I haven't been on here in months.
I haven't written anything in months either.
I haven't even opened up a book,
and my drum set has mostly been collecting dust.
It's sad I know, but to be honest
I haven't been doing much of anything lately.

I've been in and out of court,
in and out of towns,
in and out of schools,
in and out of hospitals,
in and out of houses...
It's been one hell of a time to say the least.

I've been to the city's courthouse so often, it's almost funny.
Almost.
I recognize the security guards every time that I'm in there,
even when they switch shifts.
I know the layout from the first to the seventh floor.
I know which of their vending machines is the best to choose from
and how the elevator doesn't work the way it should.
That place is too familiar for my own good.
It's a world of officials in immaculate suits,
dishing out the ***** work in the most vicious of ways,
with small talk, fake smiles, sweaty palms and anxiety.

In the past year, I've lived in four different places
spread all across the Keystone state.
I look back on the first house I grew up in with a twisted nostalgia.
How could things have been that simple, that easy?
With one big happy family under a suburbian roof,
in a small little town that nobody's ever heard of.
The simple times.

That simplicity was shattered,
with the family broken and trying to go our separate ways.
I did love our next house for just a few reasons though.
I loved the fresh new perspective.
I looked at my town in a whole new way.
Hell, I looked at everything differently.
I felt safe and secure,
even though we were living paycheck to paycheck, day by day.
Our next-door neighbor was the sweetest woman that I've ever met.
She brought the culture of her home-country to us,
getting us together for meals,
brewing tea with sugar cubes on a silver platter.
And even though things were turning into absolute ****,
I thought that it was going to be okay.
It was nice while it lasted.

Living in the mountains was refreshing.
I was torn away from everything I had ever known and loved,
****** into a living arrangement that was not exactly ideal.
Secluded by trees, nestled at least a half hour away from civilization.
But you take what you can get when you have nowhere else to go.
It's funny how life works.
I grew to appreciate the simple things:
having a bed to sleep in,
food to eat,
a place to shower,
clothes to wear.
I finally started understanding my life as it truly was,
a big, swirling mess.
But it was okay, because I was finally going to start anew.

Wrong.
Suddenly we were back down where we used to be.
A tad bit further south, just on the edge of the Maryland line.
Once again I had a new perspective,
once again in a living situation that was not ideal.
It's been rather awkward,
being forced to live with family friends.
It was either that, or I would've been forced to live with a monster.
You take what you can get when there are no other options.
This is the life.

It's pitiful to see the state that I'm in.
One would think that I am a pill-popping drug dealer,
for all the bottles of pills that I have with me.
A little bit of Naproxen, some Carafate,
along with Pantoprazole, Methylprednisolone,
standard painkillers and Flexeril, among others.
But nothing is touching the pain,
and the doctors are running out of ideas.
If my father doesn't **** me, this stress certainly will.


Ladies and Gentlemen, I know this isn't exactly a poem...
I don't even know what to call it.
It's just something that I've thrown together for my sanity,
because I've tried everything else.
It's just a big clusterfuck of words,
because I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.
It's just what I've been up to lately.
Bio Of Mario William Vitale

The language and images of Mario Vitale's poetry are so closely bound to the natural cycles of seasons, of generations, of the body's functioning, that is surprising to realize how many of his poems deal with uprootedness. But this poetry is not sentimental celebration of the goodness of nature, and harmony with the world is never assumed. The way he captures the tenuousness of this faith, the balance that must be found between the ugliness, the harshness of his history- both natural annd social- and its intense beauty, is what distinguishes Vitale's poetry, gives it its depth and dimension:

Mario William Vitale Biography

I was born in 1970 Bristol hospital.
A young nurse took me in her arms and said that I would one day become a success,
As the years would pass I was heavy in the arts used to sing and act.
Was an altar boy at St. Pius Church.
In time I would act in my senior class play, "The Mystery Of Edwin Drood"
Where I had the lead role as the Narrator,
I touched many hearts with that performance in 1989,
Was hospitalized with mono that same year for two weeks long,
Also that same year I became prom king of my class Wolcott High School,
After the break up with my first grilfriend in 1989 I wrote the poem entitled, "Remembrance of a loved one" where I had it published on poetry.com
Attempted plays: Tartuffe, Miracle Of St. Anthony and Balm in Gieade, (His poetic aspirations had derived at 18 in 1989 from submitting his first poem entitled, "Remembrance Of A Loved One"- (Sparrowgrass Poetry Forum)
Attended Central Connecticut State University For Creative Writing: 1997
Next from 1989-1997 (Wrote primarily for Poetry.com and The International Library Of Poetry) , * Received editors choice award in 1997 for poem, " A Beacon Of Light ",
(1998)Sent poetic manuscript to N.Y. Time Magazine and Chief Editor " John Hyland".
Back with rave reviews!
* (From 1999-2008: Had adapted a real keen sense of style for writing poetry: (1999- Sent Editorial to:
New Man Magazine for the Passion of Christ Movie; Sent followup letter to company with poetry platform information attached,
* 2000-2007: Magazine: (Catholic)Maries Rose Ferron Magazine submitted poem" Beacon Of Light", which had excellent editorial reviews as the outset!
2008- Wrote poem entitled: (The Heavy Cross)to Poetry.com* Achieved Poetry status of work of Excellence in writing from the Academy Of American Poetry in which still having received rank and status as a member of Academy;

(The Connecticut Poetry Society) * Short story submitted entitled, "China Dog Ray" submitted to Virginia Writers Quarterly, West Virginia, Also having member status on their board of Poetry.
Attribute Poetry to an ever increasing love of God and his unconditional love that he has for us in return, Thankfulness toward family and friends.(To our past ancestors who fought to uphold freedom that far too many of us take for granted?
My contemporary artists include that of Ellan Bryant Voight, Kay Ryan and Carl Phillips.Which all three are Participants in the Academy Of American Poetry
Having been a member since 2006, My work reflects the likes of past poets such as C.S.Lewis, Hawthorne and Edgar Allen Poe.
Most of my work reflects with the values of religious beliefs intact
In my personal view it is essential in demonstrating a real heart of creative passion!
The reader I believe will benefit by my artistic style of development in a very positive light.)
After experiencing a life transformation encounter.I had realized that poetry is my unique way to convey myself my work speaks from the heart with pure sentiments of though intact,

As the years passed I would write over 4,000 poems and 5 short stories toward my platform,
My poetry is based on the free verse style of writing,
Was published in 10 venues such as Writerscafe, Neopoet, Hello poetry, Poem Hunter, Booksie, Poetryvibe, Poetrysoup, Starlifecafe.com, Poets Know It & poetry.com...
I was saved by God at the tender age of nine in Charlotte Carolina where I came to know the Lord that was in 1979,
Today I continue to write poetry was published on Spillwords, High On Poetry, Tuck Magazine & Setu Magazine.
My main emphasis in writing poetry is to share with the mass populace touching many hearts.
Hope you can read my poetry.



Sea Stacks

skipped rocks through a stream today
the opening of a brand new day
its frame is in minor decay
the bleached wood massed in bone piles,
we pulled it from dark beach and built
fire in a fenced clearing
the posts' blunt stubs sank down
the circled and were roofed by milled
lumber dragged at one time to the coast
We slept there

Each morning the minus tide-
weeds flowed it like hair swimming
The starfish gripped rock, pastel,
rough. Fish bones lay in sun

Each noon the milk fog sank
from cloud cover, came in
our clothes and held them
tighter on us. Sea stacks
stood and disappeared
They came back when the sun
scrubbed out the inlet


Life Force

through the flame cover me
in silent sound dignity
for with what one is willing to achieve
valiantly
feel the breeze
nestled through the trees

shaped through your dreams
a piercing of the skin
new hearts to begin
again



Choices

Many have a hard time understanding
They live for self and that of society
They are the walking dead yet they don't even know it
Eyes with blackened spots having holes
Viscous fangs with blood dripping off the side
You share with them the truth
They choose to run away & hide
Yet deep inside they may still question
Why am i here ?
They can't even help you
Cause they won't help themselves
They are the **** of the land
Much too afraid to stand among the son of man
A bitter taste
Do they want salt or sugar coated messages
Positive reinforcement strengthens the heart
Negativity kills it
Each of us has been given a choice
We must lend a helping hand with a voice
All of us have been given a choice
Now which pathway will you choose ?


Emerald City
There’ll be no unemployment in heaven.
No worry about the next meal.
There’ll be no bills to harass us,
and thieves will not break in and steal.
In heaven, we’ll have no need for money;
Everything up there will be free.
We’ll enjoy God’s unsearchable riches,
and have unending security.
I’m looking forward to heaven,
that land that is fairer than day.
Where all will be joy and gladness,
and sorrow and care will flee away.
Up there, no mean words will be spoken.
Each heart will be filled with pure love.
We’ll never be hurt or rejected,
in the beautiful city above.
There will be no disappointment or heartache.
God will wipe all the tears from our eyes.
No one will ever be lonely,
and there’ll be no anguished good-byes.
Up there, the love we have for each other,
by each heart will be shared equally.
And we’ll have all the things that we’ve longed
for, and at last we will really be free


Little Angel

Hope springs a new
On a cloud in heaven
Stand a heavenly angel
With mere beauty of crystalized light
Golden emblems encrusted their frame
Sweet songs drifting to a very faint whisper
Eyes, hands & face
A real message sent down to earth
To care for those lonely souls all alone
There beauty is a surprise to encounter
Slipping through locked doors to appear
Many have shed a tear to numb the inner pain
Causing accidents not to happen
They appear in the form of brightened miracles
We see them with a heart all a glow
Come to the birth of a new born baby
Come to servicemen who just joined the navy
You will see them at a graveyard setting
Even among gamblers who do there betting
There all around us you see
For all of life is but a mystery






These Flames I Live
turn back the tear drop pillow
I'm sick to my stomach
suffering alone and hard
piercing cavity of viscious fangs that bite
illusive
impulsive
the rant

These flames I live
my right to forgive
undercover
beyond the means
living in a land of mean
barren sea

a shot in the dark
to light the spark

many are left in rebellion
what an incredible talent Vitale is
he is the poet of all poets
the moment you met him perfect ten

a chick lying with her hens
a quest...
flaws and failures
yes he wears Depends

a trip to the zoo nothing new


Laughter
Laughter fills the scented air
through days exposed
the timeless hour of a loathsome mast
expounded upon the cavity of debris

develop a grateful heart
that one may impart
look close through a pillar of glass
a vergence sea out beyond the interpass

a halo with a song
to help you get along
the sight of a fawn on the lawn
greed and materialism will crush out the light in your life

******* by the holy spirit
a heart change has to happen
one must be open to the message
care for your brother help for your pale sister

one ear on the floor
a cause for more
through fetters got it made to even out the score

Unending Brigade
I ask myself politely
what resistance flowers here
against love treaded lightly
or losing lovingness dear?

give cadence to the simple,
for I gave ammunition to the laughter
we should we ever falter
the timeless whisper of happening

golden nuggets of thought & inspiration
braids my hair with a great deal of wear
through the conclaves of love's fastened grip
shadows block the vortex to aid its message


The Dream Police
they come to my head
at the side of my bed
they are enforcing my sleep
give cadence to a treat
a far from ports unknown
like a dog without a bone
giving tickets to be enforced
every time I have a dream
forces scream


Of Time & Dreams
Father's gold pocket watch measured heartbeats,
times for surgery and the slow drip of an IV
all else in his life was overture
to main events, like birth and death
of those the family never knew

Steps from my childhood dreams to his were counted
in places where treasure were wet pebbles
and the pulse of life was seen in raindrops on the lake
now the watch is mine, and i yearn to throw it
like a pebble into the past,

to see it skip and yield to places we never shared,
like blue-green eddies near the shore
and grasses curled by the win
Yet, warming in my palm, the measurer of his days
seems to sing the music of turning points
where drying dreams meet others born anew,
emerging through images of caring
to rhythms more than metrical
that i've yet to understand



The Land Of Dreams
When you fall asleep at night,
your mind goes into an eerie flight
You can open the gate with the key of thought,
and don't have to do what you've been taught

You sing, and dance, and prance all day
and you act so happy and also gay
You run in circles and run into the trees,
and cut your elbows and scrape your knees

But sometimes you open the wrong gate,
and find yourself facing a terrible fate
There are monsters, ghouls and also grouches,
and then you wish you were on confortable couches

And when you're done and almost through,
your mind knows exactly what to do
you go back through that eerie flight
it may be day it may be night

And when your mind comes back to you,
you may wake up and have the flu
You could leave for school very late,
and find out that it's the wrong date

And you could play outside in the streams
but you will know that you entered "The Land Of Dreams."


Old Crow
Old crow
Tired and lazy' against the day
Dark skies
Lost in blacks and whites and grays
Howling north wind
Sure takes a man's fight away

Wastelands,
A dreamer's home on his best day
Hard rain
Drops the leaves and makes the colors fade
And talks cheap,
But for the words of time they'll ave the last say
Oh the words of time, they'll have the last say

And the harvest is in, it wasn't much
May I have enough to get by
The baskets were light, not a muscle ached
And somehow I feel I'm going to die
The winter is coming and the signs say hard
I've never seen such a haunting sky

For on the mountains, frost in the wind
And somehow I feel I'm going to die
Full moon
Lonely above the old oak tree line
Old crow
Hanging empty in the black sky
And a nighthawk
Circles her in silence as she flies
Old crow, all alone she flies


Pheonix
the blazing glory of a loving night
Disappears in the sun's bright morning light
All efforts to recall that glorious pain
Fade in the dawn to be sought in vain

but the memory clings of precious glory
that will not become an old, dull story
instead that memory promises anew
that love will spring forth and again renew

with every joining of two loving souls
again will emerge from the fading coals
a love renewed by the glowing embers
so that this night, too, will be remembered.


Soul Search
When I look into your eyes
I see the sunshine and rain,
The deeper I look and also see
Various kinds of pain;
I can see the kind, warm love that filters thru,
To surface at the top when you’re not blue,
I have seen and know your hopes and fears
The good and bad times you have thru years,
You have seen and felt so much
I’m glad our lives did touch
Look deep into my eyes and you will find
The heartaches and happiness that were also mine


Come With Me
Come with me and be my friend
Lets create a fantasy
just you & me
lets linger through the wind
and feel free
lets run through the sand
and make time stand still
so we can treasure this moment
Only until
The mystical ocean
touches our souls
and fills our hearts with love
come with me and I'll show you

What I have to give
come with and I'll describe
The life I dreamed we'd live
come with and hold me gently
and watch the retiring sun slowly set
Shower me with all your love
pretending we just met
Whenever you need me
I'll be there
To help lift your spirits
and I want to care
About you
come with and be my love
no longer a fantasy
just you & me
This time only
A reality...


Mario William Vitale. has been featured on Hubpages.com, Starlitecafe.com & Poetry soup. Vitale lives with his elderly mother Ann Soulier in Wolcott, Ct. Currently has written well over 1,000 poems & 2 short story's toward credit platform.

Vitale has taken the poetic world by storm being featured on Google, Yahoo & MSN. Looks up to contemporaries in the poetry industry such as John Ashbery & Major Jackson.
Has been a favorite featured poet reader at Barnes & Noble in Waterbury, Ct.
Also featured on such sites as Poetry soup, Writer's café & Neo Poet

Personifications Of Oceanic Thoughts
whispers
sun lit morn
the surf hits the turf
smells of salt air through the moment
savor each moment as the memory lasts
bask in the vast expanse between time & space


sounds of children playing
seaweed next to the rocks along the cobblestone walkway
solace torn up in the derision of peace with solidarity
we were made for moments such as these
seagulls flock overhead

remember me in thoughts as these
whisk through the breeze
capture one's inner sense
alas with angelic fervor permeates a flame of life's torn reality
a new to face the day


Follow Your Heart
Magic breathes life in our hearts
Destiny resides in our souls
Our path now shimmers unshadowed by the night
With one embrace partnered by a tender kiss, the bounds

of time and distance crumble through fingers like drifting
grains of sand
Dream time is the place where I am alive
Green eyes ripple into lipid pools where miracles draw me

to your heart
I am free to swim by your side until the sun sets and
rises with you again
Life is my dream

I love you



Cynthia
When at night I close my eyes,
to think all the days gone by,
to feel again those passions past,
and feeble joy that never lasts,

I'm always drawn to thoughts of you, my only love my Cynthia
I think I found you in a dream then we celebrate,
the night I pressed beyond the seam,
where fantasy and reality meet

in summer mist so soft and sweet,
But you were all I ever felt, my deepest love, my Cynthia
But dreams just last within the night, when morning came,
Her soul took flight

I awake to find Her never there
She passes like the misty air
To leave me longing and alone, my painful love,
my Cynthia

Enigma love you swell the heart,
to crush the same when lovers part
But whether love and joy you bring
or bitter pain and Death's cold sting

I plead you come to me again, my final love,
My Cynthia


For My Precious Son
You're standing in the doorway.
Your workday is all done.
He waits to see you everyday,
this boy that is your son.

He hopes you will go fishing.
He hopes you'll shoot the gun.
He just wants to be with you,
this boy that is your son.

He is your spitting image.
To him you are ''The One''.
He hopes to be just like you,
this boy that is your son.

You show him what a man is.
You teach as you have fun.
You are admired as well as loved
by this boy that is your son.

You've got a friend forever.
Until the world is done.
Then, still you will be holding
this man that is your son.

I'm Just A Poetical Lyricist
I’m just having fun, but no doubt someone will take this serious
I’m about to take you on a lyrical experience
I’m having fun with words, like when a baby first starts reading books
Saying I’m good at rhyming, Is like saying Mike Tyson packs a decent punch
I best mention the Kardashians other wise you’ll have trouble keeping up
Me with a pen is more dangerous than Michael Myers on Halloween when he starts slashing with the knife
Telling me I can’t rhyme, is the biggest mistake you’ve made since you let your ex Back in to your life
Speaking of exes, will someone please date mine
I promise she’ll give you a great time
I’ll pay for the date, its all on me
All I ask, is please be good enough to get her to stop calling me
I love Hip Hop, and yeah I know I’m white
Please be creative and tell me how I’m the new Vanilla ice
Or how I should walk right back across 8 mile
I could have thrown this into my waste pile
But I just wanted to write some joke lines and have some fun
Sick of hearing rappers talk about drugs and how they pack a gun
“yeah I’m Bad. I’ll make this *** Squirt”
You don’t know who Nas is, And think the greatest rapper is Lil *** Vert
Or some other mumble rapper with lame rhymes
You deserve to have Biggie and Big Pun sit on you at the same time
Some guy called Young **** is wearing dresses
That’s not something I have a problem with
My problem is
There’s so much going on in the world and these rappers are scared to address it
What happened to Hip-Hop when rappers would share a message?
Nas, Big Daddy Kane, Slick Rick, I could name so many more
Now its a bunch of dudes who sound the same with empty thoughts
I’d pretend to be from the hood and blast guns but I’d fail
I’d rather be the real me, and I’m far too cute to go to Jail
I just love Hip Hop and the way it used to be
You always get the truth from me
someone tell Rihanna I’m ready to give her the best 30 seconds of her life
Tell her she’ll only regret it if I become a legend when I die
Knowing she could of had me
This is my last piece of paper, I’m now pad free
I was watching rap battles on YouTube, So took you on this lyrical experience
I’m just a poetical lyricist

Rapula
back in the day where hustlers stayed there were those very afraid
he was born in the gutter his momma was a vamp selling her junk in the trunk of a car
up all night slept all day he was blown from the frey
viscious fangs that bite two turn tables with a mic insisted on a fight
******* the innocent patrons for blood right in the hood like you knew he would
Rapula the man, the myth & the legend
could very often see him in the back of a seven eleven drinking red slurpees

took folks block by block like giving him a heart attack just to fit his mold
no one came against him until that day in the crib Rapula lost his lobster bib
very often you will see him at the 8th Street Station spinning his records
there will never be another blood ******* brother so move over he's taking cover
Rapula wore a high hat tip on his temple driving a white Benz looking like Baretta


I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me
Supernatural
but it's so true
the world hasn't a single clue
borrowed basement pews
stained glass windows
a reflection of the cross
some will go before the toss

he was there from the beginning
he is the only one that's winning
perfumed stockings and a breath of fresh air
the willingness to share how you really care
if you have seen him you have seen the father
Jesus

Stop The Madness
All of sudden reality happens
Ruining my mind that's already jumbled
"where the hell did i just go?"
I ask to myself no one listens
Obsecurity is still in me
Recognizing situation where i have been
Looking up the sky it's already dark
Worrying something, i need to get up
Home, i need to find home
Stepping forward to pass the crowd
The longer i go, the quieter it's so
Taking my glasses off because its fogged
Focusing my lens but the blur shows
sigh
Now melancholy does it again
Lack of knowledge about locations
Lack of someone to be asked for
And there is no light to guide me on
Vision, direction, companion
I wish i could make them clearer
But in reality, they just disappear

Shaman Within
I met a dead poem in the shade of spring.
I was so sad I could hear the door bell ring

through the furtherance of a smile I became unglued
shadows block the motive bruised.

Beyond the sky set flight

Prison Of The Mind
able to be smart without words
its a topic of conversation
through words spilled out on the ancient path
meditate
lights out
beg, ***** & pout
the underscore read stop
I'm keeping on keeping

transfused and weeping
table talking
swallow its extremities
move the levee
strong will survive
thank God I'm alive
the moments the solitude alone

vibrations fixed temptations
sensations...
take me to the prison
three squares a day
a pillow and I pray
nestled the mood away

Getting Ahead Of God
hearken onto the voice of a still small way
let God show you the new found way
look deep into the cause of wisdom seek the shelter
God give the children right parents to help bring them up

you never miss out in obeying God
when you start off in life without God your in the wrong direction
God will tell you what he wants you to do if you ask him to
your life will be filled with joy, peace & happiness

the issue is its not your age but what is the will of God for your life
God always has your best when we wait on God
you can't tell by the way it works by the way it counts
you may have get by in life but you must deny yourself

people have to go through disaster before you surrender your life
each time we take a leap of our own choice we lose
out of the will of God you'll be disapointed
the issue is what does God want for your life

he acts on behalf on the one who waits on him
you can't get God's guidance if your living in sin
happiness, joy, peace & satifaction are very valuable
you made some choices but God will forgive you if you repent for them

its a decision we make if we confess our sins he is faithful & just to forgive us
it is a choice you make
remember you reap what you sow
you can't avoid or escape the things of your soul

whether your 16 or 67 its time you made a decision and surrender to God
I pray that every person that hears this message will stop to think of what they have done in life

Take It All In
God is a closer friend
come back to New England
plants, rocks, shrubs & things
suddenly I'm waiting here for you

it's a tick or take Sunday afternoon
waiting by the rocks they surface with untimely leaves
the leagues plagued with devastation
the beef stock through the goldie locks of here hair

Summertime is no better time
got this crazy feeling
I'm so glad that your feeling for me
with your heart you can unite the heart


Changes
a smile from a lonesome child
transformed through the eyes
the timeless cavity unleashed
through diverse port of space in time

the child in time grew now in there teens
sees the world through a fine tooth comb
at home being alone the horrific scene
through adolescence its a coincidence

now as an adult able to leap tall buildings with a single bound
the smile deminishes onto sophistication
almost a loose cannon
pronounced news to its folly

cover me with those tender leaves
falling from the stream let loose on my caboose
the stars all glitter in the darkness of night


Pilgrims Progress
We need great golden copulations in the cemetery
bury your head beneath the limbs in part of a ghostly resolve
perhaps this was the path Brother Lawrence tred alone
underneath the interpass of denial of speculation

we have nursed path each quatrum with a deafening blow
to stand in one accord to each other as pilgrims rest after harvest time
Apple butter jam spread on fresh home made bread
the reflections of a timid squirrel on a limb

we have become immeasurable by your smile
she danced in a ring of fire yet throws of each challenge with a shrug
the cost of the pilgrims progress we shall never know
bust up the beat to promote its tempo

a beacon of light to a much hurting world in search of love
Does death hurt you the most or is it fear
beneath the timeless swell I live to tell
sought through the variation to its cosmic flame

Careless Whisper
a shoulder tender shelter to lie next together,
the swelter of a careless whisper left tempted
shelter lies dormant onto its beckoning plough
to thirst united with the throne

billow with asps of the new day's pride
thank God I'm still alive
to delve into the ridges of each dishes
kisses

the torment of each smile
bruisded reed tmpered on its poll
the thought of vanity
among humanity

the faint of your legacy

Spirit To Touchdown
Ten years since her husband's death
she still craved the sight of him and
his magnetic smile
coming in the door, his suitcoat
slung over his back. She yearned to
glance at him in a long black
coat, resembling a materialized
laser beam, as they
prepared to go out for an evening,
or in old bluejeans walking barefoot
with her on the seashore.
She knew he was always with her...
but wanted his spirit to touchdown

My Elephant
There is something about the Elephant I love very much,
I wish I could cuddle him but I know I cannot,
if they be my friend, I will play soccer with an Elephant on my side,
I will catch hold of his trunk and he’ll trumpet me to victory with pride.

There is something about the Elephant I love very much.
Although he is so big, he won’t give you a fright,
He lifts up his trunk and blesses you instead,
So different from the Lion and Tiger you meet,

There is something about the Elephant I love very much
He is a pure vegetarian, he won’t **** a mouse,
He is worshiped as God for all his good vice.
If we were to crown the king of the jungle again,
It will go to the Elephant our vegetarian friend

Proud To Be An American
I’m proud to be American
To live In a country that’s free
And we’re free to be who
We want to be!
We’re always
Free to try
New things.
And enjoy every
Experience that
Life may bring!
And I was taught
To stand up for what
You believe in
And never give up
On your hopes
And dreams
Because the sky
Is the limit!

Beach Canopy
The smell of fresh fry doe
Time had elapsed playing at the casino
Fresh lobster with a side order of fries
Those spacious wonderful sky's
Down at the shell the continental were playing
A walk by the lady of a statue in waiting
Flip flops and the sound of laughter
A playground for kids in the middle
The boardwalk with seagulls flocking over head
Fire works in the midnight air with a cheer
Love We Go
through the sweet vortex of our inner frame
we can dream of far off places with kings and queens
shaped through the fragments of are exploits
someday you will be all alone in your room
there you will read a text to reflect upon your life
we each are on a journey in this life
some ponder the existence of God
other reflect in the day to day toil
love is the mere essence of are existence
shine your inner light upon the twilight hour

shadows block the mere reflection of my frame
not having you in my arms is driving me insane
lest I refrain another door by which to explore
there is so much more in this game of life
within its given strife we can learn
one soul soars and another will soon burn
we better wait are turn in this wheel in the sky
the faint lulabye in its scope
Elvis In Vegas
Viva Viva Los Vegas
he came alone with a guitar in his sack
romance with the dice
he's giving back

a whole host of onlookers looking upon
he waves his magic wand
with a favorable song
swivel hips stand tight in his sticks

Elvis
Fun House
a blade of grass blown in the wind
heros have erected its course
leading folks away from divorce
in times of remembrances
thoughts shattered in the wind
coming apart at the seams

a brigade of thoughts
What is a funhouse ?
It is when the eyes of all are upon you
It's not so, but when you go through it is true

The funhouse is a form of torture where everything unravels around you
It is a commotion of nervousness and you just want to hide from all that is around you
It is a secret that you don't want to share, but there is one who helps just by saying I care
It's not what you say it is what you do

When you enter my world of the funhouse, you assure me that God is in control
that with him I don't need to be afraid
It's the gentle way in which you talk when once you have entered into the realm of commotion...
It's the assurance of your sincerity that softens the blow
Soon with your special way the inner strife goes away
A Thief in The Night
Jesus
he that hath an ear let him hear
when all was said to be good
let it be said calamity

have you ever been down to the lowest pit
you look around and no one gave a ****
By His Hand
through long lines of being transformed to clean my room
in the late month of June we move too soon
we remain vital to the oncoming spirit of the game
filtered through those tiny reasons to spice up the season
the God Lord up above has carried us by his hand
Poison Ivy
there are pillars being built
for those who pusue the chase
we each are in a battle
some have retreated at death's door
lest I implore something more
a quaint visitation with your higher power
in a world torn up in misery & sorrow
hiding behind a false hidden garb of compromise
can't we easily see through those twised lies
yet we embark on a new journey of are own
having a house but living all alone
out in the street where people meet
had a gun at my head thought i was really dead
out of devastation I reached right for the bottle
like having a gun in hand to release its throttle
the world is in misery torn
some insist to curse they very day they were born
eyes to see but can't
hears to hear but won't
there's a true lesson to be learned
one soul soars while the other soon to be burned
we must all wait in line for are turn
each of us will have a day in the sun
now I'm off on the run
searching through pictures to put on my wall
to stand ten feet tall amidst the social resistance
join in now I must insist this
casualties are enormous
for a stated cause that's plain atrocious
have we taken the time out to notice
yet many of us have given up way to easy
caught in a rut in are society
out of desperation there still is a plan that we can see
someday be fulfilled as a reality
if we only believe one will be set free
Break Away
break away to a brand new day
perfect display we come to pray
faint sounds of grandeur
right down to the wire

share with those you have heard
Thirst
thirst after the water that has been spoken
look deep beneath the vines of realization through thought and mind
breath deep inside let your breath go complete
with words of heightened anticipation

go deep upon deeper be the keeper of the gate call it fate
the twist and turn of the music to loose it
the world spins like a top
negotiate your buyer

sweet songs of praise
sweet moments raised
in a time well spent in thought
the spinning wheel stop just like a top
remember me in times like these
sheltered through the breeze crushed upon the leaves
in midnight hour with pulse through the flame in moments of granduer
sharpen your arrows to calm the breeze nestled to your knees
cultivated with a smile to know all the great while
a helmet for the passing fawn the bear from its nap with a yawn
in columns of portals sprinkled dust in the wind
the habitation of a needle visible through the shadows

remember me in times like these
through the training of the leaves taunt the moment
an explosion until sunset the bill of sale
A Gun For Hire
there is a direct correlation between time & space
scented across your universe base
the climb to approach the summit peak
with words do you seek

famous qoutes and pictures for your desire
coming down to the wire
a gun for hire
Beyond Her Tea- Blurred Vision
The powerful voice of loneliness is screaming through her mind of twisted halls,
All too painful to hear, she absorbs them into her cotton ball walls
But, beyond her tea-blurred vision and through her pounding heart

She hears the voice inside her that is worse
than a dagger through her heart
Her shadow's darkest moments are filled with hopeless pride
And her tongue tied conscience is all whom she has to confide

But the rose that is trying to bloom, within
her salty hand, will never wither, and never be taken away,
Because this, and this alone, is
what keeps her going day by day

the embrace...
Shelter From The Storm
outside violence
inner silence
shadows now block the vortex
spaces for places & midnight traces
coming apart at the seams
jelly beans

breath deep my pale sister
confide my shady brother
undercover as lovers
sign so simple the *******


shelter from the storm
curse the very day you were actually born
a world that turns
suffer inside the place to hide


let go of any ambition
what are you *******
cap the cosmic clap
faces in the window having storms in the night
Celebrate In Twilight
the crimsome tide
we all want to run away & hide
although we suffer inside
enter through the canopy of a velvet song

lines drawn in the sand
when to understand
give yourself away
take heed to pray

no cornerstone
no bridge unknown
through the sunlit ravine
The Knight Of The 1,000 Eyes
softly now faintly
ode to the serpent's tale
dismiss the dread to reclaim its saga
in darkened dungeons fit for conquest
come away for a rest
most of life is but a test

treasure the mantle to the I am presence
delve into the sacred flames within your heart
enter the center of your being pull back on yourself
a still small voice within you saying be not afraid
I am here I am your heart I abide in the holy temple in the center of your being

you have climbed through mountains you have found me after a very long trek in the darkness of human misery
I am the pressence that looks through your eyes
the knight will rise of the 1, 000 eyes
filtered through the shame
who are we to blame
infinity is my measure
you beloved heart belong to me let us be one once again
allow the shell of outer human pass away

I will be the service to life that passes through you
do not accept as real to what is in the outer world
fear not I am the life inside your heart
I am inside you together we must intoduce ourselves onto the world.
A Gripping Fairy Tale
long ago let the truth be told
in a city far far away
lived a young hobbit who drank
there was woods to hide his visitation

a taste of hungry exoneration
A fare maiden was on the throne
ruling her army from the barren city
enclosed was a message of honor

high off traction from the waiting pool
the kingdom was now silent
These Words
these words are wrapped among a cordial smile
cemented like glue for what are we to do
come now let us leave the door opened,
a demonstration of trust in a world in quite a bit of a rush

the door swings wide to the enforced way
a beautiful flower display
ample time to pray
therefore everything will be o.k.

the knock on the door
lest I implore
a distant shuttter of languished circumstances
with a heart that's been renewed

these words stand still amidst the night's appeal
the even keal behind the spinning wheel
trust is completely most like a seagull off the coast
a reason to really trust
Surfing The Internet
Today I'm on point smoking a fat joint relaxing basking in the ambiance of the hour
folks need to take a cold shower as they admire the scented perfume through the room
we have become combersome with this world as a child as if you never really heard
Leonard Cohen with his famed song "Suzanne" really makes you think about life.
Through the negative light of affliction we have every bit of reason to be standing chosen
yet we have are back against the wall when all attempts of standing ten feet tall,


Each of us has a reason to discuss the mere notion of love sent from up above
Rat *** tat tat on that *** no one gets by on any free pass we need to make are way
look to your neighbor for any favors we can all learn to trust & savor
Each new moment that comes along with a fast paced moving vibrant song
you unleashed the inner lion in me with a whole host of chemistry

Surfing the internet may not be your thing but prayer can unleash the fires within
storms of life come to either make you or break you whats news for you might not be for you
life is like a jagged edge roller coaster with its twists and turns
one soul soars while the other one burns just wait your turn
Empty Leaves
onto the seventh hour of the seventh sun
beckon to rule the new day's dawn
the lovely fawn sitting on the lawn
vibrations to great temptations

captivated by a smile
to know all the great while
the wilderness beckons a response

of wild beasts among us
Light Brevity
thoughts of brevity about the city
stay close to me a whole host next to me
got rhymes of choice stretched to the opened door
the willingness to be explored

stand firm in the wheel chair you know my condition
to what I've been dishing
kissing
twisted stereo lies by the bars swift no surprise

captivated by her smile
still to know all the great while
as if a little child
faith pierced the scene

eating fantastic cuisine
the turning of the page
is it safe to ask you your age ?
the band played on
Agatha The Princess
she was on the throne
far away from her home
uniting hearts to ne fond heights
carrying herself with a song

Agatha the princess
will lose their influence
soaring to new frontiers
left her to tears

took walks in her garden
beautiful flower display
led to thoughts to pray
with tears in her eyes

came as a big surprise
delicate hue wth borrowed lies
she walks the flats on the lonely pier
rapers and dishes she would hide
leave behind

the careless whisper
a shoulder to cry
the soft cascading vamp
shine on her eyes

to beg or even borrow
moments of sorrow
to cleave to her young
the living stone

have we just begun
Back To The Front
plunged into uncertainty
the quest to be a want to be

shining on mental enhancement
there's joy in the progress

smoke on my ceiling

highway of what I'm dealing
******
bang bang shoot shoot
you took my nephew Shane
let me be the first to explain
Shane used to live with us so long ago
until he shot up ****** he died in are house

such a dark force
it starts with a promise to relieve
then one gets too deep
falling apart at the seams

beg, borrow & steal
for your next fix to even the deal
some take it with a needle others snort it up their nose
but do you suppose there's always a shipment coming from Rhode Island

dodge the bullet feel the passion why am I asking
****** scores a perfect 10 in the mind of an addict
it takes your body then your soul
engulfed in flames bust up the beat to promote its tempo
Soft Parade
the tear drop fell from the ceiling
no matter what I'm dealing
the ocean has a delicate spray
through loose lines let it go

time well spent in thought
through the day springs hope
left nestled on its undertow
the stereo swell

basking in the hour of belief
sorted flowers in its incredible epitaph
The Waiting Suspense
there are pillars
in doorways
loosed to become forgiven
loose engine
the pulsating of a river
where is the trigger
gets bigger & bigger
Destination Excellence
the thought of letting go
a far to time before
waiting to explore
the opened door

life can be quite a bore
the longing for more
road up ahead
avoid the living dead

thoughts inside my head
The Arms Of Rap
into the arms of rap that's where its at buiding through the confusion in fusion
got flames coming out my baseball cap I'm in need of a nap keep close to the doorway
fresh rhymes I'm still on time you maybe brave see me at the arcade park my Benz in back
folks tend to over react but I tip my hat got news for you all bridge the gap know what's up

Chilling at the grill with my girl sporting heavy studs think that I'm in love you see
there's brilliance in a piece mark the ege of my teeth stand still & repeat
bars watching souped up body kit cars looking to the stars a view from Mars
Pina Colada does anyone grow fond of Starsky & Hutch another push

grasping with tender faith in my hand when will folks understand stick it to the man
years have passed still having every reason to grasp the solitude in that I'm still in a good mood...
Feeling high anxiety got folks sitting next to me living out my legacy of what I used to be
Sipping my favorite sauce to the max you tend to over react got to stay in the zone

Summer time boogy time get your cash and stand in line frozen in time
Through a variation of a dream peeps do scream eating delicious ice cream
Souped up high hat as if in a tempo taking you places that you need to go
playing a little Spanish fly i got words by the fly your my favorite guy

on my human side stand still I'm happily alive got to put first things first
this is how i flirt got words for Lavert put back your gold in a purse
Trump is getting busy but he makes me awful dizzy better listen to Thin Lizzy
they say i'm institutionalized but I got words from the hive it's best to dream big
Let Yourself Be
A reflection I will be, for today
I looked into a mirror and much to my surprise,
what I saw was all deep, deep, inside...
There it was, all exposed, the inner me

right down to my very soul alarmed, shocked, and surprised, what
I saw wasn't really me on the outside
What have I done ? Where did it go wrong ?
Why isn't the inner me the same as the outer soul ?

Then I could see way beyond it isn't just me, but everyone.
Life is a fairy tale to most for the really don't accept the Holy Ghost
If all would look within their self, and
see the person that is there,

open up your heart, let it out
don't pretend, just be proud, for the person
you really are, is just what God wanted
for he created you as he chose

Don't fret, or whine, just be proud, life's riches you will surely find
Now when you look at me, a mirror you will see
for when you look at me, what you'll see is the inner me
For I am the mirror of the real me

To everyone in life who feels they are not special,
you really are, you see, for God made you that way,
if you'll only let yourself be...
Erik Behrans Feb 2013
The seeker the loner the lover the keeper
The thrower the catcher the leaper
The believer the stoner the beater
The busser the cleaner the waiter
The water the sinker the caster the bleeder
The runner the stunner the teacher the preacher
The heater the steeper the meeker the feature the
Sliding the slipping and sloshing and
Crawling and creeping and cutting and kissing
Dishing and wining and dining and hissing
Looking and seeing believing and breeding
Heaving mashing heaping seeding
Feeding flooding fretting keeping
Shining a lining flowing and flipping
Tripping sipping showing shipping
Beating the beat of the poem of the people
Self improvement isn't always
Easy but nothing ever is
When it's worth equals your birth
And no longer do I feel cursed

Cause control with moderation
Accountability and resiliency
Needs alignment so my assignment
Is to create a formula like science

That leaves me less defiant
And use my rolodex of excuses  
Cause that laziness is useless
Or maybe I'm just to stupid

But you don't have to be smart
To learn from a mistake
That I inadvertently force on myself
Mimicking the traits of ****

Without the date so I try to escape
To make my life better
Cuz I believe it's never too late
Wait....they say never say never

Which is more convoluted than clever
So whatever, I just wanna be better
So I leave this motivational letter
to remind most hardship endeavored

Are created by me so whether
I call it bad luck deep down I know
lobotomy of proper ideology leaves my life like our Economy, and its told

Philosophy states success is made when preperation meets opportunity
And it's been hard prepping for what can feel like a dead end but... No

Cause faith isn't just for religion
You must calculate your vision
Cuz any goal met must first be set like premonition the first Provision

Of many on a desired mission
no longer will my present position discourage me cause courage.Be my currency even if currently conditions

Leave me impositioned by decisions
Of the past that finally crash
When it chases me to grasp
The changes I've made but that

Is the bad karma I rightfully have
Wooven like its tapestry that flows
So without a needle&thread; or learning to knit i still knew how2sew

forced to reep it and keep it asan
Expensive lesson given
Ramification and consequence
Once written will later find u wishin

That the epiphany now hittin me
Didn't need so much time to see
But the sams transgressions may
Also be a blessin, a present of me

Who is evolved from who I use to be
But still knowing its nor enough
So more consciously I move on as it cautions me to live lawfully tough

And although premature I grew up
This reflexion will be my incubator
better late than not seein the indicator to act as my Instigator

The initiative initiating creator
So if you judge me for early labour
That conceived the belief Received i only hope it relieves knowing these

Words are left to show your deceived
But if that's the cost I wagered
Then this poem now stands a receipt for dues paid and mayb one day later

I can be refunded or if nothing write it Off as a cost of business
Or even education bridging the gap
Of inflation since my occupation

Leaves me expendable so vacation
is taken at club prescription med
So metaphysically I fly to my own
Tropic island gettin out my own head

Where I dare swim in the despair
Of being overwhelmed by damage
left by dumb adolescence to manage
The mess it collects so i bandage

damage i caused Unnecessarily
Physical and mental damage
mislabeling Addiction as a habit like affliction warnings were in spanish

Walking around while I fly high
Not realizing I was being ravaged
So if i end average its stil better than
The full picnic basket short a sandwich

That I was, with a side order of
A chip on my shoulder
Which I learned to swallow with my
Pride which is y i got fat when older

Which is a built Im jacket as colder
It will definitely get til karmas done
Dishing out what outta be awfully
Close to described as ******

A relationship maintained constantly
And a futures what it's costin me
Basically karma holds the **** u emit
Like it was a bag of your colostomy

Only it gets tossed back onto me
Which sparked nostalgia in my head
Hearing my mothers voice echo
Now making sense of why she said

I was **** for brains or **** head
Like my dad often used
Not as abuse but to give truth
Of what becomes of wasted youth
Sacrelicious Jun 2017
But our blood
will spill
Just the same.

It's not about the headless
victm.

Nor will  it ever
be. So.
Just chill.
And enjoy the thrill
of the ****.

The blessed expedition.
Hunting the Hunter.
Is a most wonderful feeling.

Going postal
On the ones giving you
All these letters.

The mail carrier.
Is positive for swine.
Flu.

Cause the news.
They keep dishing us.
Is tainted.

Rotten.
Like the word.
This **** is rolled.
Gold.
Put that in your straw
And snort it.
Kyle Kulseth Mar 2016
Well you wanna go out dancing.
I don't wanna leave my pad.
I won't loosen up this necktie 'til my head falls in my lap.
               Then you'd be lapping up my words
               that are
                     curdled,
                     soured,
                     absurd,
purchased with inflated currency
and sold off for a herd
               of sappy sentiments
          for worn-out, bought-up malcontents.
Yeah, you're believing anything these days...

And I'm far too good a liar
               selling real estate
          on toxic, poisoned ground.
Filling in all of these forms
and putting dumpster fires out.
               Standardized.
               Attracting flies...

Follow darkened circles down...

To my parlor. Find me cutting up and dealing
               out my cards
and doubling down on all the reasons
I've been feeding you.
               Repeating 'til it's my turn
               to start eating plates of crow.

Now you won't take any chances.
I'm a golem made of ash.
I won't fire up the big band. You won't come sit on my lap.
               I've been dishing out these words
               that are
                    used up
                    barren,
                    burned
far too long. The chafing dishes cooled
and all our vittles turned.
               Buffet line sentiments
          for naïve, hungry malcontents
starving to believe in anything these days.

Well you wanna go out dancing...

I'm not gonna leave my pad...
Silence Screamz Mar 2017
Can we talk?

She said "Sure, give me a minute"

Wait a few seconds, that minute turned to ten,
Now one hour later,
She was ready to begin?

"What do you want to talk about?"
she yelled from
across the room.

Silence, I was sleeping.
But just then, she was about to hear the boom

So.......
She came at me like a wartime poet,
dropping bombs on my head like
I didn't even know it,
Ripped holes in my shirt
and I couldn't even sew it.
She busted rhymes in my mind
even CeLo couldn't own it.
Words flying so fast,
I coulda swore they were stolen.
She moved one step closer
and boom, I was falling.

Each time my mouth opened
I couldn't even answer,
Each word that I stut t t tered was
like lyrical cancer.
I ran around the room like
a Soul Train dancer.
Side stepping her questions
like I was her little **** prancer.
"*******, *****"
my words just got a little fancier.

Whoah!
"Who do you think you are,
are you done spitting it yet??"
You began this little battle,
but I'll be the one finishing it.
My words are louder than gunshots
Cuz, I'll be the one killing it.
I'll just turn my *** around
Cuz you'd be the
one kissing it.
This is only the beginning,
and I'm not finished dishing it

Shhhhit!!

She just broke in with a loud
"OH!! YOU DONE YOUR TIME"
So you can get on outta here with those wasted lyrics,
stupid rap, and busted rhymes.
This is my house, boy,
and you ain't living off this welfare dime.
Now, go cheat with some other hoes
and sip on their Boone's Farm strawberry wine.
Oh and one more thing, you might
want to call 9-1-1,

Cuz I am about to commit
****** on your *** and a misdemeanor crime.

See you were nothing to me
but my little, poor "boy toy"
and when I say "little" ..it wasn't
very much of joy joy.
The only time I got real excited and wet
was when you were walking out
my front door, door.
So, now carry your sorry ***
on over to your ex's house
cuz she was the real effin' *****, *****.

Oh, that 65" flat screen is mine, so is that X-Box,
touch one more ******* thing in here or I'll
double tap your ***
with the pair of my triple chromed 9mm hollow point custom made Hello Kitty Glocks.
Your time is up,
so say good bye once and for all
count it 1, 2, 3 or I'll punch your ******* clock.
Wouldn’t it be great
a decade from now
when it’s bills, insurance,
married life,
to wander into Waterstone’s
and go ‘hold on a minute,
I sat next to him!’


At the counter we could say
‘Oh, I knew the author,
uni days and all that’

as we fish around
for a ten quid note
thinking ‘hang on,
I should have a signed copy!'


We’ll call ourselves
intellectual,
scrawl sonnets in cafes,
sup pints, smoke cigars,
proclaim Seamus’s work
‘just... just… it just speaks
to me you know?’


And we’ll remember
that teapot,
those guys coming in late,
dishing out slips of paper
like a croupier with cards
and still wonder
if what we’ve written is *magic.
Written: March 2014.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time, and the FINAL poem written during my university course. The poem is a look to the future and a reflection on the past, making references to poetry classes over the years. Written in a deliberately jokey style, as was planned by my poetry group before class for the final session together.
Cry Sebastian Mar 2010
Prophets of doom,
dishing out sorrow and gloom,
glorying in their knowledge,
tying weights to burdened souls,
receivers of blackened light and soiled truth,
if they only knew,
there are many others just as they,
spewing lies in God's name,
leading sheep
to a fiery hell.
Star BG May 2017
I, the poet wears many hats to adorn self at any given time.

Musician, orchestrating with instrument of pen, expressive words upon page.

Artist, painting with beautiful colorful jargon, to open eyes and hearts inside grace.

Gardener, planting seeds of thoughts for them to bloom inside readers mind.

Chief, dishing out many a line, filled with delicious words to tantalize reader.

Landscaper, constructing scenery as beautiful as a mountain, or deep as an ocean.

Sculptor, molding craft of words sometimes soft and light, other times sharp as steel.

Teacher, enlightening one with information to open their consciousness if they choose.

Sailor, guiding ship-like eyes across a sea of words to move into calm waters for peace.

Laborer, picking just the right phase, to get a fresh new perspective inside a poem.

Singer, using one's rhythmic voice to echo inside vibrations of a sonnet that goes viral.

Doctor,  becoming a wordologist aiding the reader to receive insight to help them heal.

Secretary, to self who writes and transcribes many an ode so reader and poet has peace.

I, poet has a wardrobe quite extensive to pull from, on a creative journey of sharing.

StarBG © 2017
inspired by MU
AJ Dec 2013
she had emerald eyes and messy hair
we ran around town dishing out dares
we broke the law twice that night
as we danced in the streets looking for a fight
i had dorky glasses, and her hair matched her name
we treated our lives like one big game
we glided through the air on playground swings
for a second i believed that we both had wings
we drew funny faces on a concrete wall
and traded our shirts outside the church hall
we had a thousand adventures that started at dusk
and ended when we woke up in her room smelling like musk
being in her presence gave me an electric shock
with her there was no time, no hours on the clock
she lit up my life with on single night
and then the very next day she had to take flight
i'll always remember the weekend we shared
i just wish that my broken heart could have been spared
she gave me adventure in a town such as this
my only regret is denying her that goodbye kiss

— The End —