"fav" poems
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities...
*that's all any man wants,
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
who knows the when and why of differing
cuddling styles...
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
who knows when to leave a man alone
alone in his man-mourning time,
distance needed,
letting his ex-rage dissipate or
watching his red and blue football
redefine ignominy...
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
that when the man low whistles, eyes adrift,
she heartily agrees and is
reciprocity rewarded regularly
with hunk alerts of
"hey-check-him-out!"
that's all any man wants,
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
a tigress in the bedroom
she asking, try this, I'll love it,
served with a desert demo of awkward afterward,
his less-than-perfect cuddling abilities
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
who doesn't abhor partner silences,
comforting they are, in their own ways,
lying side by side, interrupted only by peccadillo body noises unexpected and
sheepish apologies and loving arm stroking
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
who lets the man roar, top of voice,
when imprisoned in car,
his voice, un enfant terrible,
performs with Creedence Clearwater
a sing-a-long in traffic, asking
"Have you ever seen the rain"
while amidst Israel-leaving-Egypt
Sunday beach traffic on the L.I.E.
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
when it's pheromones alternative mode day,
he celebrates Carole King day,
she demonstrates her cuddling abilities,
par excellence, with kisses and tissues
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities...
a woman, plain confident in her abilities
no matter the situational status,
when confronted by
less-than-crazy-impetuous,
she smiling says "why not,"
when he proposes,
a movie and dinner in a fav haunt?
"plenty excellent enough" her answer,
spoke in a rising voice
full of unfeigned delight
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
accepting the unexpected airport embrace
on a moving sidewalk, unexpected delays
with the aplomb of a well lived life's
long term sustainability perspective
when he kisses her hand for no reason,
while driving 75 miles per hour,
she only winces internally,
the other hand vise-grasping
the other door's handle,
who brushes hair wisps in a dark movie,
celebrating her Bathsheba Everdeen's
duality of strength and tenderness
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
that when on second date he proposes
a non-exclusive relationship,
confident enough to high-five respond,
and laugh about it,
seven years on
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
that when she reads it,
analyzing the oeuvre as
"too **** personal and
as usual
too **** long"*
that's all any man wants,
a woman, confident in her
cuddling abilities
in everything...
even a little occasional criticism
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC
even I am puzzled that this phrase
did not prior
tickle my contronymic
poetic senses till now,
for what is tender is of not always legal,
and what is legal is far far from
always tender
<>
tender/tenderness
gotta rank in my 10 top fav
words,
nothing transforms
swifter than an
unexpected kiss,
a hug from behind,
the light(ing) stroke of a forefinger,
brushing a tear from cheek,
an errant bang, a lock from vision interference,
All Super Legal
gracefully given,
gratefully received,
Wholly Unexpected,
and
great~fully
tenderly!
Accepted*
<>
thinking that this maybe one of my
top 11 fav poems
~>
mmmmmmmmmmm
that's the sound
of me purring...
Jul 11, 2025
Jul 11, 2025 at 12:30 PM UTC
Memaw & Pepaw ..Mason Dixon Saturday night,
Just sippin' muscadine wine by the Tennessee moonlight
Rockin' chairs...Zenith Black and White
Roy, Buck, Minnie Pearl a Hee Haw delight.
Crickets a chirpin' and a Frogs a croakin'
Toe tapin' rhythm's got em all in motion.
Corn fields swaying like a metronome
Watching those two dance to cotton eye Joe!
Sunday mornings best at the Church of Christ,
Me, I'm Thinkin' bout Memaws country gravy, my fav-o-rite!
Fried Chicken, taters, eggs sunny side right,
These are the memories I like to recite.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 12:19 PM UTC
spring planting, spring harvesting, spring garlic
One of the great joys of having a job in agriculture
is to think days, weeks, even months ahead,
One of the great joys of having a job in poetry,
like a fireman, a patient planter of love,
you wait to be called,
then becoming by being,
part of an all consuming burning
come spring, take advantage of the cool, wet weather of spring
to put in multiple crops of peas and lettuce, also a great time
to get your perennial vegetables,
like asparagus and rhubarb, started
the planting cycle is not an either/or,
come harvest thy labored fruits,
nine crops to harvest come March,
kale, pick leaves as needed,
leeks, best left in the ground
and harvested as needed,
parsnips, purple sprouting broccoli,
rhubarb, spring cabbage, spring cauliflower,
and of course, my personal fav,
Spring Garlic
Garlic, like like love, is generally planted in the fall,
before the frost and harvested the following late summer.
But from March to May,
once the ground has truly thawed,
the young lover plants, spring garlic or green garlic,
can be harvested.
it’s a long bus ride to Western Canada
where the garlic spring has come,
ain’t complaining lots of time to write foolishness
and plant a few good bus poems in northern ontario
and even michigan,
the window slides, and the seeds scattered,
but at every bus poet stop,
those that need it,
planted many inches deep
April 2 naught how I wish I was nineteen again
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 4:02 PM UTC
Abbreviations of the Life Human
these little stories, bejeweled poeticals, long tall tales,
short-held breaths from the savings account breast,
all slow withdrawing-dawning,
all are but the abbreviations of the life human
my fav of course,
the one, the twenty six
the aleph best bet
<•>
4-16-18 10:47pm
a mondo Monday survivors prayer
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 11:16 PM UTC
EK BHEED SI LAGI THI SHAYAD MAR GAYA THA KOI,
ZANAZA UTHANE KO KI TAIYAR NA THA ,
KYONKI US MASUM KA PARIWAR NA THA,
DEKHA THA MAINE USE KAI DOSTO KE SATH,
SOCHA THA ZANAZA TO UTHAYENGE WE HI HATH,
JAB KOI NA AAYA TO YAH AAWAZ AAYI,
CHALO NIKAL CHALO KE KANHI UTHANA NA PADE,
WO DOST THWE JO CHUPE SE BAHAR NIKAL PADE,
KAFAN GEELA HUA AANKHO SE MURDA RO RAKA THA,
MURDA KHADA HUA KAFAN ME LIPTE HUE ,
PANHUCHA DOSTO TAK JO JA RAHE THE SIMTE HUE,
KANDHE PER RAKHA HATH TO YARO KA DIL DOLA,
KAFAN HATA DIYA MURDE NE WO RO ROKAR BOLA,
"MARNE PAR NA DOGE KANDHA YE DEKH SARMINDA HU,
MAINE TO NATAK KIYA THA YARO ABHI TO MAIN ZINDA HU"...
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 9:20 AM UTC
meanwhile,
the Big Fat Yellow Bootay
was getting right tired of
waiting for the election to end.
so,
she set off down the highway
going ninety five...
"HOKEEEY POKEEEY!" she cried
as she gunned the engine and
threw herself in gear.
"HOKEEEY POKEEEY! MOTHER *******
twice she cried,
"HOKEEEY POKEEEY! MOTHER *******
this second time
for extra good luck
with the unfolding election.
cool Fall breeze caressed
her yellow metal,
her big fat yellow bootay,
a glorious day to
be out on a drive!
well, except where she had
come from.
beep beep
beep beep
always driving her
beep beep beeping insane!
it shore nuf was quiet
out this way!
she turned the shiny
silver dial to turn on the
radio.
'gonna have to get me
some better speakers
one day soon.' she thought
to her big fat bus self.
and what came out blasting?
"That's Alright Mama,"
by who else?
but the King!
Elvis!
Elvis has left the building
and now,
Elvis is ON THE BUS!
she didn't quite know all
of the words,
but what the ****
she sure could sing!
As the big fat bus
with the big fat bootay
was driving along,
singing joyfully,
she glanced in the rear
view mirrow and what
did she see?
why the ghost of Elvis himself
was sitting right there
right in the back of the bus.
He starts strumming on his
own guitar and singing,
'that's alright mama.."
so she turned off the
radio to listen
to the ghost of
the King,
Elvis,
himself,
singing in the back
of her big fat yellow bootay!
she also watched him eating
a lot of food
in the back of the bus,
her bus.
his ghostly figure
seemed to
fluctuate between fat Elvis,
and skinny Elvis,
like a seesaw.
by and by
says he,
(not the really fat one
but not the really skinny one
neither.)
'I need a pit stop.'
says the King
so the big fat bus,
with the big fat yellow bootay,
asks,
asks she,
'you wanna stop at the next
stop & go,
or
the next
fizz & wizz,
or
my fav if you really
need a constitutional,
the stop & plop?'
at this particular junction in time
this ghostly King,
was in the shape
of Fat Elvis
but very cooly outfitted,
bellbottoms and rhine stones
or were those all diamonds?
note to self,
the big fat bus
squirreled away,
check on that.
are those real or not?
more mulha is always
good
and this just might
be mana from heaven
in the form of Elvis the KING
himself
and maybe just one
of those diamonds
will fall out and
get lost in me.'
mighty strange happenings
going on around here in this
big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay.
' the stop and plop little mama,' elvis replied
with that
ohhhh,
soooooo,
divine Elvis drawl
and that darling little
thing he did with his mouth,
but was doing now
as he was sitting there in the
back of HER big fat bus
with HER big fat yellow bootay!
OH MY,
it really is a
HOKEY POKEY day! she sighed.....
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 6:42 PM UTC
’Twas on a lofty vase’s side,
Where China’s gayest art had dyed
The azure flowers that blow,
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima, reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.
Her conscious tail her joy declared;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws,
Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,
She saw; and purred applause.
Still had she gazed; but ’midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,
The genii of the stream:
Their scaly armour’s Tyrian hue
Through richest purple to the view
Betrayed a golden gleam.
The hapless nymph with wonder saw:
A whisker first, and then a claw,
With many an ardent wish,
She stretched, in vain, to reach the prize.
What female heart can gold despise?
What cat’s averse to fish?
Presumptuous maid! with looks intent
Again she stretched, again she bent,
Nor knew the gulf between:
(Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled)
The slippery verge her feet beguiled,
She tumbled headlong in.
Eight times emerging from the flood
She mewed to ev’ry wat’ry god
Some speedy aid to send.
No dolphin came, no nereid stirred;
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard.
A fav’rite has no friend!
From hence, ye beauties undeceived,
Know, one false step is ne’er retrieved,
And be with caution bold.
Not all that tempts your wand’ring eyes
And heedless hearts is lawful prize;
Nor all that glisters, gold.
3.6k
I like the word oxymoron –
probably my favourite English word,
It sound derogatory but it is just a figure of speech.
I kind of like the word nincompoop
but I’d change it a bit to noncompoop
which would then I can say is an abbreviation for non-competent ****
I made up the word mysticscientist –
I know it’s hard to say, perhaps i should shorten it to myscientist.
I like the word strumpet,
coz even though it sounds like a musical instrument,
It’s actually another word for a **** not the eating kind.
Another fav of mine is teetotaller,
I mean who on earth would ever guess this to mean
someone who doesn’t consume alcohol,
really who came up with this, I’d really like to know.
When young, I learnt a word that truly stuck;
It’s guffawed meaning laughed out loud;
It’s the prefix guff that completely throws you off,
guff out loud, she guffawed or gol like lol!
(guff is not a prefix, just saying it looks like one: guffstraying, guffanalysing, guffanance)
Everyday I open the dictionary to discover new English words;
it’s a wonder to me, that the list keeps growing
only 26 letters but still quite amazing.
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 2:27 AM UTC
don't **** with Kanye, the crazy Kanye, beefing with Jay-Z Kanye
he's so sick, a ***** an addict, the **** Kanye, take the mic Kanye
take your pick, he'll diss yo' kids, kiss yo' ***** Kanye
can't spell Kanye, outselling your fav' artist Kanye
the old Kanye, the 808 Kanye, he outsold 50 the kim's Kanye,
yeezy for yo' skims Kanye, don't **** with Kanye.
Feb 23, 2022
Feb 23, 2022 at 2:46 PM UTC
~ one more for patty m. ~
slept late after dancing with my devils, from,
from the wee, until a pealing pearl from the Earl of Dawn,
recovering from an intrusion~invasion~brain~regurgitation,
and it’s nearly 9am, sipping my first cuppa Hawaiian,
& woke to a repost of a ten year old wondering plea(1)
makes me think “This old thing,” poem, like a fav
frock/suit that still drapes perfectly, and yet draws the
***** admiration and drippy drawling yummy compliments,
gracefully, gratefully demurred with them three words,
& it’s 8:39am, Bruce pitching in with “Born in the USA”
recipe for a new thank u Gawd poem to make room for
a fast~break diet for an old man with a rebuilt ticker, this
very emission~transmission of a verbal politesse writ going
some where, cooked on a medium slow burner fueling dressed up seeds of heartfelt appreciation made of ancient oat grasses
birthing a poem~child of thanks to the Lawd for one more day,
opportunity, the five sense’s delivery gratitude and gratifications, and the desire to intertwine the sights, music, a crisp blue November Sky, the need to bleed brew these words into a fulfilling,
second moment mug, for the pearls and Earls
of poetic humans
10:01am
Thu Nov 2 2023
Nov 2, 2023
Nov 2, 2023 at 10:16 AM UTC
this girls got it down
when she stomps on the ground
the whole town
looks around
"say what"
what
what
what
(no thanks, macklemore)
when she flips her hair,
and it's in dee air
the boys all go
"heyyoo"
and shout the whole dayyo
caz look here allison
i know you like peanut butter cookies
and your percy jackson bookies
and singin' josh groban
like (you gotta be jokin')
really girl,
you think you got it goin'!
you inspired me
and to climb up in this tree
and write this poem
just so i could show em
that i can take it
as well as dish it
and girl
you the best roommate
you got the best traits
even though you keep me up
caz you be watching 30 rock
and wearing my fav pair of socks
but that okay
caz with you girl, every day
is a par-tay
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 8:18 PM UTC
(1)
I posted a poem
at hello poetry -
and what happened?
Somebody started following me
I received a "notification"
(I can’t say “much to my gratification”)
that someone started following me
I think it went something like:
“Naked Blueberry started following you”
(2)
Oh what did I do?
What did I dodo?
All I did was to post a poem
and not a word from you -
O cruel menacing follower -
not a comment
not an expression of your displeasure
but you started following me
What did I do?
What did I dodo?
(3)
Sure
I may tell bad jokes
and write verse
that daily gets worse
Yeah, I may look ugly like I stole
a look from my fav Mad magazine
and once in a while I say something
about organisations -
but does that warrant you
following me
and transforming me into
a near-nervous wreck?
O Naked Blueberry
what did I do?
What did I dodo -
why do you follow me, you naked stalker?
I lie in bed now afraid
and my wife worries that
I cry out often in sleep:
“Hence, You Naked Succubus -
Follow me not!”
And I dare not approach my car
but after looking under bonnet
and boot and below the carriage
I dare not write a word now
but fear that you and your agents
will follow and stalk me
with ne’er a word, ne’er a warning
At least tell me, please O follower
O Naked Blueberry, O Protean Terminator
O **** Redberry
and all the others in various guises
(I know you guys are all one person,
namely Lily Raw and Ready)
- tell me why you follow,
show me cause of your anger
O what did I do?
What did I dodo?
What should I do?
What should I dodo?
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 8:05 AM UTC
Waiting for him,
Was like a,
Mindless abyss.
I thought,
This time I should give it a shot.
Add plus venture,
Into a realm full with pleasures of flesh.
Rather waiting to lie in sepulcher.
Thence came the wooers,
On horses, chariots, planes and cars,
Courted me to the foreign lands of brand new emotions.
Greasy, exotic, curious and even obscure ,
To satiate my hunger,
They poured,
And I sinfully devoured.
Ooooh!
A whip here.
Ouuch!
A tickle there.
Aahhhhh!!
The sheer unfolding of their classy work.
Every night lusciously they came,
Wrapped me in an awe of satire, skepticism and imagination,
Not to say of the bruises they gave,
Tears I shed of Anger,Pain ,Love and Hate.
Still I followed them blindly and agape,
Because a new world in me was taking shape.
Of Shakespeare, Freud, Tolstoy, Eliot, Byron, Wordsworth and my then fav,
the great Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
A medley of fantasy, fact-fiction, comedy, realism and romance.
Oh!
What not I chanced upon.
All emphasizing emotion, imagination, scientific and natural thought.
There was no stopping of these gnawing hunger pangs,
None lasted more than a one night stand.
The foolish me, unaware, cascaded in the fatal encounters,
Not knowing the pangs are of soul to reach the supreme ******
Thence came a Seer
The Prophet,
The Wanderer,
The Forerunner,
It was as if he can rip me with his thoughts,
And see my soul through that tear…..
I distinctly remember that divine night,
The moment I held him in my desirous hands,
I was no more in dual fight.
Things started falling into place,
Was no more in that abysmal space.
Still I would say,
It’s a current phase.
This soon would also evade.
New Lover ,
For every new night…
To cut a long story short,
Just so,
Because of your low attention span,
The lover, the poet , the wooer
Was the great
Khalil Gibran.
Jul 5, 2010
Jul 5, 2010 at 1:05 PM UTC
As I rounded the hill
Face to face with the still
That I'd only heard rumors spoke of
With no one around
I sat myself down
And proceeded to sample the stuff
As sweet as honeydew melon
Got my feet to a geling
Made me feel like I did in my youth
Sat with a dumb gaze for a while
Then got the biggest of smiles
When it came to me what I should do
So I went with my plan
And opened a stand
Right there on the mountain side
When word in the forest got out
I never had any doubt
That all of the critters would be stoping by
You should have seen them all guzzle
As the squirrels ordered doubles
Then proceeded to tell wild nutty lies
It was quite the fiasco
When they brought out the cowboy hats and lasso's
As the party went well into the night
They paid in nuts and berries
Which was fine by me
With them I made different flavors of shine
In flavors I made 32
So I wouldn't get sued
By Baskin-Robbins who has 31 at this time
From all the flavors I made
Boysenberry was the fav
The raccoons made up a dance called the boysenberry crawl
Which was a big hit
At the discotheque
The beavers built in the early fall
We made a deal
I would sell them my swill
For a little piece of the pie
We were all getting rich
I have to admit
It's quite the relationship, the beavers and I
Of course the beavers got greedy
You know how beavers are needy
Couldn't leave well enough alone
Figured they had the right
Who's going to pay for these lights
That make this the best disco in town
They started charging a cover
Which didn't go over
As well as they would have liked
Plus they doubled the price of the *****
Which left little food
On the woodland creatures tables at night
Things went from bad to worse
When they started to curse
Me, "The Man" for the troubles they had
I barely made it out alive
By the skin of my hide
When I packed and hit the road mighty fast
Things had been going so well
Before it all went to hell
And me and my still were forced to leave
Now still to this day
You know why I always say
That famous line, passed down in time
"Leave it to Beav"
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 10:51 AM UTC
Indulgent muse! my grov’ling mind inspire,
And fill my ***** with celestial fire.
See from Jamaica’s fervid shore she moves,
Like the fair mother of the blooming loves,
When from above the Goddess with her hand
Fans the soft breeze, and lights upon the land;
Thus she on Neptune’s wat’ry realm reclin’d
Appear’d, and thus invites the ling’ring wind.
“Arise, ye winds, America explore,
“Waft me, ye gales, from this malignant shore;
“The Northern milder climes I long to greet,
“There hope that health will my arrival meet.”
Soon as she spoke in my ideal view
The winds assented, and the vessel flew.
Madam, your spouse bereft of wife and son,
In the grove’s dark recesses pours his moan;
Each branch, wide-spreading to the ambient sky,
Forgets its verdure, and submits to die.
From thence I turn, and leave the sultry plain,
And swift pursue thy passage o’er the main:
The ship arrives before the fav’ring wind,
And makes the Philadelphian port assign’d,
Thence I attend you to Bostonia’s arms,
Where gen’rous friendship ev’ry ***** warms:
Thrice welcome here! may health revive again,
Bloom on thy cheek, and bound in ev’ry vein!
Then back return to gladden ev’ry heart,
And give your spouse his soul’s far dearer part,
Receiv’d again with what a sweet surprise,
The tear in transport starting from his eyes!
While his attendant son with blooming grace
Springs to his father’s ever dear embrace.
With shouts of joy Jamaica’s rocks resound,
With shouts of joy the country rings around.
2.3k
**"His mind would never romp again like the mind of God."
The Great Gatsby**
Does he fret,
Does he sweat,
Does he pay his bills
On Time,
Even tho his personal stash
Of anything,
Inexhaustible and
He bills himself?
Is he lonely,
So when he romps,
His greatest pleasure is
Inventing new kinds of pain?
Does he like to watch butter
Snowmelt,
Does he turn the honey jar
Upside down
Because viscosity is
A turn on?
Is he lonely?
Of course he is,
Is that why he endlessly
Tinkers with creative destruction?
Does he put strawberry jam
On his watermelon?
Salt on his wounds,
Caramelized onions in his
Cologne and parfumes?
Does he watch reruns?
The bombing of Dresden, Hiroshima?
The shaving of the heads of the French women?
What's his fav. late night host,
When he can't sleep
And. his damaged dreams
Become our unfortunate realities?
Acting childish, a métier,
So he can scold himself?
Does he keep score,
Ever say no more,
Contemplate suicide,
Or just murdering his sons?
Did he kiss Shakespeare's lips,
Or just his fingertips?
Does he sing a Capella
With Holly and Cooke,
Let Beethoven play rock n' roll?
What is he best excuse
For playing with
Tormented souls,
Making so many wonderful things
Forbidden fruit?
Does he worship regularly at the altar?
Irony his faith and skin his vestments?
Are his twisted straight,
His late, early?
His order disordered and when bored,
Does he just close his eyes and
Let us live in peace?
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
I wonder what makes pets so special…
Is it the love or some other essence?
Is it their honest love?
Or just their sincere presence?
Why is it that when your furry kid
Ruins your fav. Shoes once in a while..
No matter how mad you wanna get..
You just cant help but look and smile…
When things go all wrong and ugly
When youre stuck home on a stormy day..
You look at your pet again and again…
Smile & Cuddle your loneliness away…
And that beautiful moment wen u get tempted..
To plant a kiss on your sleeping pet
You wanna give em all the love..
All the love in the world you can get..
And that day….when they are out love..
They thank you to say a last goodbye…
I bet that’s the only moment…
When your pet will make you cry…
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 5:55 AM UTC
hi
I don't know what 2 say
Im marty and I am a man
I live in plymouth
and I drive a mini van
my fav things are
pizza friends music and my dog tracy
I play games online alone
and I am a paperboy
and my family lives overseas
dating is not my thing
so I am on this site.
and I want to fall in love.
and my fav movies are
**** bill jaws jurasic park and **** bill 2
I don't know what 2 say
maybe you liked my profile
so send me a msg or
cyber-roses or a digital chocolate box
or click the flirt button
I like to talk sometimes
when I get lonesome.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 10:02 PM UTC
on the margin
the paraphernalia
employed to obtain
the sweated inspirations
to tell these lies randomized
stories, factuelle (feminine)
pestle and mortar martyrs,
crushed together, drink in
her form, the S curves
of her shape, my fav
place, on a long list
of favs,
and she says;
hey poetry man!
which renders my
100 or so
senses,
that radiate,
congregate,
infantuate
rendering moi
delightfully attentive,
and I think:
Solitude:
Be All well and good,
wells and veins awaiting
for spelunking & mining for the
nexus of the
next line, but when she summons me,
with a cherished honorific I am
sundered by words deep felt,
and the next line forgotten,
disappeared and
for multiples,of poems,
that
die
heart busted broke
when she call poet, come,
it is like living in a gearbox
Stuck in Fifth,
that message of multiplex pixels,
so engaging and so many container conceptual structures,
those poetic burst and bust out,,
gnawing to be released free,
***** solitude, it’s her
attitude that gives
more than I can
handle…
and the poems are about the conjoining
of
the mutuality of our:
soliciting solitude attitude
Aug 4, 2024
Aug 4, 2024 at 11:03 AM UTC
One
I saw a great high mountain soaring above the exquisite blue sky
I thought to myself 'what can i do?'.
Three days later i found myself ******* on top of it like a wild dog.
Two
I was listening to my fav rock and roll song on the radio
I thought to myself ''what can i do?''
Ten years later i found myself in bed on top of my saturday groupy.
Three
I stole some money from my mother
I thought to myself ''what can i do?''
Five years later i got a kick out of wiping my *** with a dollar.
My problem, my friend, is i can't say i can't.
I just ******* can...
Period!
Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 2:09 PM UTC
sway - “how have you been ?”
me - but you sit and you think about things. you replay moments in your head . you think about the first signs of trouble you ignored. you think about the way you accommodated your needs for them , compromises , half smiles , nights in bed with them .. etc you realize **** . you don’t really like the way they laugh, they’re actually pretty stupid , you were blinded etc ... then you think to yourself was this love ? did i only like movies on sundays because it’s what they wanted ? or because i enjoyed it ? did i like chocolate chips cookies because it was their fav or it taste good ? & then you’re like NO . it wasn’t for me , that wasn’t me , i wasn’t myself . you probably thought this person was the “one” . then you look back , i mean really look back & then you’re like no . so you just delete all that **** . and you start over . you start to feel good , better than before . you feel relieved . what’s for YOU will always be for YOU . so you go through this whole process . it’s not easy, but it’s worth it . somedays you wanna eat your heart out & you wanna cry to the sky . wondering why you have to go through this stupid **** other days you lay back and smile at the sky while the sun shines down on you & you feel good . you start to realize all good things take time . you don’t rush it or half *** it . you go through it . and you’re gonna feel great . you’re gonna feel like one of Van Gogh’s pieces in a world that lacks color . but you made it . rome wasn’t built in day & neither were you .
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 3:35 AM UTC
I don't mean to brag but
My friends are the absolute best
They'll beat the crap out of the person to hurt you
They'll protect you from the storm that is life
They'll make you smile when you just wanna cry
They'll give you that one thing you always wanted just for the hell of it
They'll get your fav author to send you a letter and a bunch of autographed stuff
They'll listen to you go on and on about your endless crushes
They'll set you up with someone
They'll allow you to go to your house whenever
They'll take your apple and do some weird stuff with it
They'll listen when you just need to vent
They'll love you unconditionally when you hate yourself
They'll hold you closer when you push them away
My friends are the family I never got
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
I will love you in the morning and in the mornings after that.
I will wake you everyday, cook your breakfast, make you fat.
I will run your errands, wash the car, clean the dishes.
I will do your homework and even finish your thesis!
I will swim the deepest oceans, ride a bike downhill
and I'll accomplish these goals, 'cause you've strengthened my will.
I will sit for hours with you, locked in meaningful stare,
utterly convinced no other beauty could possibly compare.
I will listen and understand, wait for you to make up your mind;
because of you, I've learned other ways of being kind.
I will hold your hand in public, hug and kiss you as I please.
Our Love Spectacular will be known across the Seven Seas!
I will feed your ego, as you would feed mine.
"Yes, that dress makes your *** look **** fine!"
I will take baths with you, and if I may be so blunt:
I will wash your back, but be more thorough with your front.
I will search for more films, more books for us to read
but you'll always be the only entertainment I'll ever need.
I will sing your fav'rite songs, and we'll make up a few of our own.
We will sing them to our children, even when they've fully grown.
We will grow old together, but I will look older than you.
I'd consider myself a good husband if you don't age past twenty-two!
Eventually I will forget
plenty of these things, I bet.
But know, one of these I hold dear.
My love, let me make this properly clear:
With you, I will love every moment eternal--- in fact,
I will love you in the morning and in the mornings after that.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 3:20 PM UTC