"dissing" poems
Dissing amazing poets prose and angst they posting on net site for peotry
makes you look like you queen and king of petty and uncool.
Got a grade school nephew he is age four and he speaks without thinking.
We know why little kiddies speak out and can't control nasty actions.
Why grown *** people sit on net dissing poet's poems.
Me thinks it's like having a nasty out of control mind like kiddies
like when those kiddies diss poets poems and actions are nasty.
Repeating for you what those who are wise know and with no dissing.
If you do not enter the tiger's cave, you will not catch its cub.
American meaning be like nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Posting whatever the hell poems is good and no such thing as a bad poem.
on poetry site this be no write poem, no poems under name.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 7:13 AM UTC
now I don't mind taking criticism but those who disrespect me should expect to be seeing light like a prism you shouldn'tve said anything you little troll you never commented on anything I wrote inboxing me trying to scold me for reposting something I found funny you'll learn not to **** with me the blast master you little ******* can't type more than ten Words while I can drop bombs and bars for hours I'll scour the internet and **** you're no original self up on here or on wax if you wanna take it that far man **** it I'm done you're a waste of dissing bars
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 8:55 PM UTC
On his mighty mountain
Jove reigned with his queen
Never questioned
Never held in check
Such riches never seen!
With mount Olympus as his home
Far above the throng
He could do just as he pleased
No, he was never wrong!
Then a fair nymph maiden
Caught Jove's roving eye
Hera was out shopping
He saw the maid go by...
Making his advances
He found that he was spurned!
No matter how he postured
Her head was never turned!
"Oh Jupiter!" She laughed aloud
"You bloated moon, you knave!
I'd rather love a he-goat
For all the gifts you gave!
You have no tact. No honor.
You plurocratic fool!
You pick your teeth with
Poor men's bones
Using wealth as tool!
Go on then! Arrest me!
Force me... if you dare...
But I know Hera's servants
The one's who do her hair!"
Jupiter was stymied
He knew just what this meant.
Hera'd throw a fit for sure!
So he had to relent.
But he cursed the nymph-maid
With great poverty.
But dissing him was such a joy
She'd do the same for FREE!
(C) SoulSurvivor
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
Current affairs, making family disappear.
Blood thicker than water; I can't see that from over here.
Haters show hate, to hide their fears, hide their faults by dissing piers.
Their hands weak so they dis their peers.
Weak-minded; Diss-impaired.
Test the truth and get dared
Like something that's undeclared.
Put a ring around your rosey,
Then I’m taking a chair.
The kingdom come;
The dynasty is aire.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
**We are a funny lot
As in, seriously… we delve into ‘funny’ a lot
Very rarely does a day go by
That I don’t come across something that cracks my funny bone…
Or as a Kenyan would put it ‘makes me just die!’
Body bag
The Kenyan
This specimen of human is always quick and capable of ridiculing anyone’s apparent "swag"
Everyone gets a turn here… so do not huff when you’re ‘it’
There must be a reason you joined this dissing game… this unique Kenyan version of ‘tag’
Just remember
The rules are simple, really
Keep it above the belt, unless upon exception...
They also clearly allow one to feign concession
Yes, these rules highly encourage strategic deception
Kind of like what our politicians do before the main election
But also if you paint a target on your back… you will get shot at...
By everyone… and I mean everyone
I haven’t seen anyone do that and elude the social media firing squad yet
Computers and phones in this case, acting as the internet's version of the bayonet
And watch closely if you’re ‘it’… for the inevitable, the friends that will stab you in the back
It’s bound to happen, as much as this may ****
The memes will come by the truck load… in what may seem like a self driven truck…
With a life of its own
Just ask Susan Mirfat
The most recently owned!
We’re a funny lot I tell you
Loose cannons almost
Our leaders’ shenanigans, our parents’ semantics and our own clownish antics…
Prove that despite…
How mature as a country we've become…
We’re still all just a bunch of children, inside.**
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 1:15 AM UTC
I TOLD THAT ************ TO SWING ON ME,
TAKE A CHANCE
MOTHEFUCKER,
TAKE A CHANCE,
I WANNA GET MY *** KICKED,
LET ME
CHILL HERE ON THE EARTH
WHILE YOU STAND OVER ME,
SPITTING
AND
DISSING.
BUT WHEN I GET UP
IMMA BE MAD
ENOUGH
TO SCREAM
AND ****
IMMA BE
A MANIAC
ON YOUR DOORSTEP,
IMMA BE
A ******
WITH NO CHANCES
WHEN I'VE GOT THREE.
SO WHEN YOU SWING ON ME ************
SWING ON ME
AS YOU TRY AN CALL ME A *****
JUST KNOW THAT IMMA COME AT
YOU
WITH A THOUSAND GRENADES
IN MY FINGERTIPS,
AND WHEN YOU DON'T SWING,
AND DON'T DO ****
I'LL KNOW HOW YOU'RE MADE,
IMMA KNOW THAT ALL THAT **** YOU TALK
IS JUST A MISNOMER.
MY FINGERS GRIP MY HEART
AS MUCH
AS THEY GRIP FISTS.
KNOW THAT IMMA CATCH YOU
WITH A RIGHT HOOK
FULL OF VEINS
AND A MAGAZINE
WITH YOUR NAME ON IT.
CHECK ME,
IMMA HIT UP SOMETHIN TONIGHT,
IMMA BRING MY FISTS
LIKE BURNERS,
MAKE YOU FEEL THE FIRE OF HELL,
CAUSE I'M ON THE EDGE,
AND THIS GIRL ****** UP MY HEART,
MY GRAMMA IS AT THE END OF HER ROPE,
MY MAMA IS STILL POOR,
MY SISTER STILL DOESN'T KNOW HERSELF,
AND MY HOMIES
ARE FAR AWAY,
FARTHER THAN YOU CAN SEE,
SO IMMA CHILL ON THIS PULSATING LEVEE.
Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 11:30 PM UTC
Over and under,
I'm getting higher.
You know that you love her,
No player for flavour.
Rolling and hitting,
I'm taking you higher.
Shit's kicking, nobody's pimping,
I got my heart with her.
Pimping sipping this words,
Them poor got you *******
Living and breathing,
All for that money you dissing.
So grab your ***** a ***
She'll be digging deep for golds.
Drag your *** back home,
No player ******* fools.
Get your karma proof,
And I toss them 7 folds.
This gangster loving fumes,
Got me hook, your love, I'm ******
Don't be tripping on your homie bag's cold,
For I'll always love you, we're gold
©2013 Maman Screams
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
I stand there and smile and check them in
I answer all of their stupid questions with a pleasant grin
8 hours of this then I'll be free
None of these people care how they treat me
Their snotty and rude and make a mess
I've never behaved this way while being a hotel guest
They turn up their nose's and spend money all week
Then when it comes to the bill they want to be cheap
A discount here a discount there
And when I say, "No", they grit their teeth and stare
They yell loud and scream like I will bend or cry
Thanks to the survellience camera I have an alibi
In my head I start to wonder
"Isn't this the guest that asked for a plunger?"
"He's complained about the food and our lovely staff."
"He's dissing our lamps and even our town maps."
"Then he comes to the front desk to fuss and cuss."
"He's pointing his fingers and having a fit."
"Yuk! He's talking so fast his mouth is collecting spit."
I decided that was it I had enough
Working in the service industry is tough
But all I could do was stand there and smile
And this is what played in my head all the while
When people start to scream and shout
This is what I do to tune them out...............
This is a test of the Emergency **** Off System.
This is only a test
insert sound here
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 10:45 PM UTC
I'm caught in between,
knowing what i do and don't need.
But this feeling seems to exceed,
whether or not i breath.
So i'll hold my ******* breath,
hoping this isn't another one of your tests.
Because i know i'll ******* Ace it,
and put an A on your chest.
I'm not the same person as i used to be,
I've been through some **** that only i can see.
I'll shovel it up for the simplicity.
It's like electricity,
Girl i know you're gonna miss me,
so stop dissing me.
Nobody has shoveled up your **** but me.
So trust me, before you motherfuckin' press me.
Don't test me.
You don't wanna be me,
or see what i've seen.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
Astonishing
Bewildering
Caring
Dissing
Educating
Fulfilling
Gravitating
Healing
Inspiring
Joking
Keeping
Loving
Motivating
Naming
Organising
Praising
Quizzing
Restoring
Smiling
Trusting
Uplifting
Varying
Willing
Xoxo-ing
Yelling
Zesting
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 3:24 AM UTC
I travelled straight west
to the epicentre of the southern wastelands
and 'twas with mind-numbing disbelief that
I found an Oak table propped upon the sands
and it was not alone either
for three beings sat it, seemingly nonplussed -
one was a skinny old man
wearing a linen suit faded and powdered with dust
his collar frayed around the edges
a moth-eaten hat sat upon his head,
he had a daisy poking from his breast pocket
so very much preserved, so very much dead,
to his left sat a one-eyed Hare
the sole eye ecstatic and wiggling -
he swore and blasphemed each time the man spoke
from a mouth toothless and dribbling,
sat to the right of the man
was absolutely (absolutely!) nothing,
however I observed with mild humour
that both man and Hare were convinced it must be something
for the man was profusely adamant
scorning the Something for dissing the Hare's hair,
although the Hare was too busy rolling around its one eye
to even notice the man, or simply give a fu- care
"Hey hey talk to I! Hath thou seen my missing eye?!"
Hare asked from a voice shrieky and shattered
saliva running in rivets
upon the table it slopped and slavered -
then suddenly the man started singing encore
his voice cringe-worthy, out of tune,
sounding like a cat back-broke and on steroids
rocking and waving like a spastic-loon;
"If Father Time has no end,
does he even have a beginning -
oh, if there's pain is there gain,
which one of us is it that's winning?"
alas, that's when my attention was brought to the mounds
of surgical needles cluttered on the ground,
feeling sickly aura lick the back of my throat
I started backing away without a sound
["Hey hey talk to I -"]
["If there's pain is there gain -"]
["Hath thou seen my missing Missing MISSING EYE?!!"]
#FLASH!#
the dystopian landscape around me melted
into a field of bloated poppies -
serene, scarlet and blinding 'neath the sun,
feasting upon our charred bodies.
AJ
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 5:23 PM UTC
I tried to look without blinking,
I stared uninterruptedly for a long time
It got blurry for a while and it I almost couldn’t visualize for a splitsecond until I blinked and there it was staring right back at me
So I started drinking,
Wine, spirits and a lil’ liquor,
And with every sip and every glass I still felt my heart sinking from the weight of my troubled thoughts..
Day in, day out I was always caught by myself thinking,
Pondering and wishing everything away..
It was persistently adamant,
With it there was no going away, no shaking it off, no shrinking, no flinching..
Its sound piercing like tyres screeching,
Its sight gory like stealing in a lagos hood when its punishment inevitably would be lynching
It reminded me of an evangelist preaching,
Its effect was adverse 'cause classes I never attended about it whenever they were teaching..
I got my self into this mess so I guess its time to stop ********
Brace myself up for some ditching and dissing
I had it, I messed up and now its missing
In its place this monster I have created, I nursed it, I raised it
Now I gotta accept it, live with it and deal with it
Its not just a part of me, its now whom I have become..
It taunts me, it haunts me and constantly reminds me that;
I am a bad habit, I am an addict, I am eccentric, I am a misfit, and I am not going anywhere cause I am unique and I am you..
-r3d-
Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 6:38 AM UTC
oh but my love is not
a red, red rose.
i chose to replace
every tear on my face
with dying embers
of every memory
you said you would remember.
i trust
that you must know
that i am not a summer's day,
i will never play
at being warm
or temperate.
you can berate
me for not knowing
whether i am to be
or not to be,
but forgive me
if i don't play by the rules
and exit
the right stage
in a wrong scene.
it just means
that your music
is not the food of my love.
i will continue to shove
your thoughts
under a carpet of denial.
do not throw away
any vial you might find
in my room,
you sealed my doom
when you stomped down
that staircase,
tripping on the last time
we went for a walk.
my face doesn't run
smooth like the course of love,
you should have known
this truth.
my eyes are not rose petals,
my heart not a white dove,
my love
when they say hell is empty,
they haven't been inside
my mind -
here
you'll find horrors
of a sweet kind.
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 1:37 PM UTC
To keep a poet happy
First off... naturally...
You must give him time
Time to write
Time to rhyme
And three square stanzas
Every day
Keeping his writer's block
At bay...
**His pen and paper
Must be fixed
Or a computer
In the mix
A thesaurus
A rhyming dictionary
Or perhaps the classic writing
Of a visionary...**
Don't forget the light
To see his words
You also have to listen
He wants to be heard!
Some structure and a clock
To see the time
Avoid writer's block
And help him rhyme...
**Here is the recipe
For his feeding
If he has the block
He needs to be eating!
A pinch of metaphor
A splash of color
An image or two
Then add another!**
*But dissing folks
Has NO allure...
Nobody wants to eat
MANURE !!!*
The Girl Who Loved.You
SoulSurvivor
(C) October 10, 2014
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 1:39 AM UTC
Joe wants to know
how'm I doing?
an innocuous query,
little can he know,
bye bye is my merry,
marooned on a skerry,
noxious fumes in the aerie,
currently inhabiting my foreheady,
worry waves, rolling thunderous tides,
have myself beside
thus the answer to your toll,
something bad, on me, got a hold
Joe,
life is,
more than a tad
concerting
concerting?
surely you meant
converging, or perhaps,
concatenating, or concaving?
discombobulating, or more likely,
plain ole disconcerting?
indeed, all of the above,
fit like a glove,
but best combinated in steaming mug of
concerting
"to contrive or arrange by agreement: to plan; devise"
the world is secret contriving,
the world is secret devising,
a plan for my demising,
forces are concerting re me...
most concerning,
as trends converging,
concave hollow chains clinking,
a concatenating chorus
voicing their displeasure,
at my happy existence,
which now gone,
its loss, wept for, in great measure
life dissing me, in a manner
concerting and dis-concerting,
my composure,
decomposing,
the ides of depression,
hip hop discombob-
(undu)lating throb
but then again,
what's in a word,
what's in a rhyme,
jes that old timey R&B;,
rhyming and blues,
of a verbal kind
so, Joe, how'm I doing?
now that you are knowing,
as men of distinguished letters,
students of history,
part time poets,
Your Reply
must only be:
"Oh no, Natty,
say it ain't so"
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 5:03 AM UTC
I'm a rough tough son of a *****
But believe me I didn't grow up like this
Well life was easier then
Just follow the footsteps of big strong men
And there's nothing wrong with that
The only problem is it's a dogs world and you're a cat
Cats are good cats are kind
But sometimes I like to think with my own mind
And so when dogs will shut you out, shut you down
Some might simply frown
But as I mentioned before I'm rough tough strong and mean
And when I'm ****** i'm less like a cat more like a machine
And it didn't come quick I spent years in doubt
Just trying to figure it out
What made me different what made me a freak
And that's how I spent week after week
Doubting and dissing and hating myself
Until it stared destroying my mental health
And I was tired of hating I needed a rest
So I worked to become the best of the best
I'm not a cat nor a dog I'm sure you can see
I'm a very special breed, I'm me
And maybe I'm not the very best of them all
But you can bet your *** I'll be the last one to fall
So at the end of the day I don't ask that you fall to your knees
Simply step aside while I do as I please
Cause I'm a rough tough son of a *****
And I'm done listening to what men have to pitch
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 1:31 AM UTC
I think you're gone
but there is inside me
that voice
disapproving, judging
I had celebrated my freedom
with a Budweiser
and some tears
not realising like
Steven King's
Lawnmower Man
you had been released
into my every nerve ending
my very being
part of my matrix
in life you had the strength
of an ark angel
and as I stumble
over these words
I am afraid retribution
is at hand
I am still scared of secrets
to let too much show
you once asked if I still
write poetry after dissing it
well I'd hardly call it that
this is my fear factory
Oct 26, 2021
Oct 26, 2021 at 4:36 PM UTC
***I WANT TO THANK
ALL MY FAITHFUL FOLLOWERS!***
but I know someone
(or maybe a few someones)
are out there
dissing me
guess what?
I DON'T CARE.
SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
What is that?
More than just an object
glad you want ask
while were on the subject
under this temporary mask.
There's a whole other person
I may follow rules
That's just me
It doesn't label me a goody-two shoes
That's just how its meant to be
I listen to the teacher
I do me and that's respectful
So, keep calling me the preacher
Just know that some schools are a mess hole
and this school is on its way down the high road
I'm Christian
That is me
I'm tired of all these people dissing
So, now you see I'm going to be me
This is me
I go by Gods hand
his dream
up here tall I stand
So it seem
that by him I will perish
This is me high
and mighty having one dream
While tall I stand destined to die
Gods light will beam
For this is me
Brandon A-O Cook
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 3:35 PM UTC
- Joseph Childress
Absence makes the heart grow
Fonder for most
Somber for some
Odd of others
The presence of love
Is the foremost force
In the divorce
Of reason
Attachments
Magnets
Victims of attraction
Repel
Then make tractions
That keep the world
Moving
Rebels revel
In revolution
Worshipping
The great changing
Like crescent moons
Before the new
Each phase
Relays the latest trend
As love, hate and sin
Blends in a cocktail
Of delusion
Drunkards play martyr
In the extremist
Conditions
Relentless systems of belief
That leaves relief
For the reliving of death
The children witness it all
Imitating
And coming up shorter
Than expectations
With each generation
Alternating ideas
For alternatives
Altering native ways of thinking
Beings battle for correction
In facilities
As others rights
Squander
In the quelling of dissent
Fighting fear
Is dear
To the hearts of trendsetters
Setting the standard
For the new age
New way of thinking
Off to Walden’s Lake
For the Great Disappearance
Dissing appearance
For the sake of absence
As absentmindedness
Watches from afar
Don’t worry
I’ll return with enough
Civil disobedience
The laws will have to change
In our honor
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 6:05 PM UTC
how is beauty defined, in the way we speak? Noo there is no way to speak true beauty. Beauty is defined by the way we think, so there is no way to speak it because beauty is also in the eye of the beholder. All of this is leading up to this story. So before you say that a person is ugly or stupid please THINK.
I was called ugly today by this girl, even though she was 16.
I think that she was just being mean but then she said you stupid *** don't belong here.
So inaskded her a question. How is beauty defind? She replied by what I see and hear.
I said ehhhh wrong, it is defined by what we think just because you think I'm ugly doesn't mean other people think the same way.
And also I can talk to you about this all day.
So she instised on me telling her what I thought about her.
So I said well my first thought was she was way out of my league, but now that she spatt out a bunch of **** that. I did not care for how someone looks in care about personality. And I also told her to think about what she says before dissing someone behind their back.
But moral of the story is please think before you say **** please because it only makes you like an ***
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 2:40 PM UTC
AB:
Kings that sit on thrones,
We knock them off and take their place,
Mistake material of chrome,
But had to save the human race,
SPT:
For humanity would die
If left in the hands of spite
For the story's long sojourn
Faces of death untold
Handed down to those
Who were only left to morn,
AB:
In a world were born,
Having insecurity and hatred,
Fighting the chronic masses,
Of whatevers being displayed,
Draculas blood ******* days are over,
Overrun with shame and regret,
Like dissing two teams,
And never looking back , amazed by it,
SPT:
As I rise above he ashes
Lifting my spirit to wind
Never looking back again
Defeated they stand
Together we win
As silence summons the horizons
Standing under her son
Triumph births the dawn,
AB:
We do what we desire,
In your dreams there are no rules,
Birthing creations and cable wires,
Knowing there is no limit to what you do,
SPT:
Then cut these strings
And free me to roam
For what life is this
If I can never
Be at home,
These words like wires
String from vein
Is not free will to hone
Learning my desire
Self empower.
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
I’m so tired,
but I could break every dish in this place.
If I screamed,
and bled,
and fell to my knees,
would you even walk over to clean up the mess on your floor?
Mr. Incredible,
waiting for your wonder woman,
but who the **** is a hero,
when no one’s being saved.
Trusted you,
thrusted you,
and now,
i’m disintegrating,
rusted in you.
Cut from the same cloth,
but i’m fading.
I’m torn up,
and spilled on,
and nothing but new is good enough for you.
Took me away,
bag me up,
may wind up at a good will.
But all I had was good will,
good intentions,
muddled by imperfections
you must not have been able to look past.
But ain’t that the ***
calling the kettle ******
You’re riddled with the same mistakes as me,
breaks as me,
teased about your weight like me,
face like me,
the braces that used to cover your incisors,
but mine weren’t.
I was always straight with you.
And one time,
I was late with you.
And then,
you ran.
Cause our mistakes,
could only be placed on me.
Now,
i’m tired.
Cause I could have held part of you,
but I just held the burdens.
And I did so gladly,
I wore you like a crown.
I sported you rightfully,
but you thought you entitled me.
Again about me.
Even when i’m dissing you,
i’m wishing I was kissing you.
Cause you helped make me,
baby.
But now i’m your creation,
sitting here waiting,
wishing I was breaking,
everything,
but us.
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 11:42 AM UTC