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"filler" poems
*be ever gentle to thy words treat them, your tools, well, cleansing and protecting, wrapping them in cloths of chamois and moleskin that they may be well conditioned and pour forth with a temperament clear and viscous, reflecting their high honors and a noble lineage, they are well-intentioned to exist far longer than your meager temporal life, upon this ever hasty, ever perpetual, orbit give them all respect, their fair due, they are treasure immeasurable, for which you have been granted guardianship, custody received from others to be gifted onwards, yours, but for the duration so oft we trifle words, expel them from the country of our body, without passport and earnestness, as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler, day tourists, to be treated as leavings, refuse for daily discardation, barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance, but leaving not, a mark of distinction more truffle than trifle, find them in the dark forest of your life, use them sparingly, just for soaring, take them from the roots of your trees, shave them with a paring knife, counts them in bites and measure them in grams, even in grains, for words are the seasoning of our lives, agent provacateurs that can modify the moment, bringing out to the fore the flavor of the underlying speak them slow and distinct, for they arrive slow to you, a trickling of refugees for your sheltering, harbor them as full companions, protected by natural law, provision them well, prepared and ever ready for a quick departure, moor them at the embarcadero, for the next restless leg of endlessness, which they themselves will inform you will last longer than eternity, long after there are no humans to speak them*
0
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
oh poet! be ever gentle to thy words...
*be ever gentle to thy words treat them, your tools, well, cleansing and protecting, wrapping them in cloths of chamois and moleskin that they may be well conditioned and pour forth with a temperament clear and viscous, reflecting their high honors and a noble lineage, they are well-intentioned to exist far longer than your meager temporal life, upon this ever hasty, ever perpetual, orbit give them all respect, their fair due, they are treasure immeasurable, for which you have been granted guardianship, custody received from others to be gifted onwards, yours, but for the duration so oft we trifle words, expel them from the country of our body, without passport and earnestness, as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler, day tourists, to be treated as leavings, refuse for daily discardation, barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance, but leaving not, a mark of distinction more truffle than trifle, find them in the dark forest of your life, use them sparingly, just for soaring, take them from the roots of your trees, shave them with a paring knife, counts them in bites and measure them in grams, even in grains, for words are the seasoning of our lives, agent provacateurs that can modify the moment, bringing out to the fore the flavor of the underlying speak them slow and distinct, for they arrive slow to you, a trickling of refugees for your sheltering, harbor them as full companions, protected by natural law, provision them well, prepared and ever ready for a quick departure, moor them at the embarcadero, for the next restless leg of endlessness, which they themselves will inform you will last longer than eternity, long after there are no humans to speak them*
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46
All that lead in their bones Smoke lingering blood They placed masks on their graves Unmarked in kitchens And fields of grain Washed out and bitterly red Against a blue white skin Liberty fell with her rifle Pointed at her own knees Crown set a gutter for soldiers to cower and puke in their false beliefs The only absolute in this ******* war is death You freedom ******* hypocrites
0
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 2:06 AM UTC
filler fulfilment
When you look into my eyes You'll be lookin at a homocide That's your soul's ****** demise It's about time you decide Whether you want to star in a thriller With a silent sociopathic killer A regular body part miller Nothing but a body bag filler I be living in this house of pain Behind these curtains vain Torn asunder by the knife That is sharpened in strife Letting loose liquid crimson life
0
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
Shakespeare in Compton
I am sorry for ruining all vaginas for you I hope you can recover eventually She said I hate to burst your **** bubble But I’ve slid some lies between your thighs When howling at your moon wasn’t so much praise As it was longing for a change of ***** scenery People change? How I feel right now is like when one time I was sick And my parents recorded a show I watched so I could watch it later And at the end of the show there was a number for a contest to go to space camp I called that number It was disconnected I always find out the important stuff A little late I cried that day I just wanted to go to space camp And I just wanted someone to love me like a black hole A warm black hole to put all my love into **** me in and fix me like there’s no turning back I mean in the darkness of space They all look the same All yank at you turbulent and fiery head rush passion I mean we all love the same So I am sorry I overshot your Venus To crash land in Uranus A semi-purposeful curious passion You coulda yelled **** We felt like **** When we walked away Parts of me have always been missing And I tried to fill the gaps with you Problem is when you might be gay and are fighting it Your closet is a ****** Not your fault your beard looked funny on my **** You can’t wear a person like an accessory I can’t slap her like masculinity till I feel straight again Some things aren’t right I’m not right And you are so messed up now Because you have this superpower to turn men gay You can’t turn men gay You can only remind them of the pain that lies In lying to themselves when they know None of this feels right None of it will Dear former lover Former black hole body Former holder of my confusion And filler of my empty spots I ****** up by ******* you I ****** up
0
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 3:55 AM UTC
The Most Disgusting Poem I've Ever Written; or, When You are Gay and Fighting it Your Closet is a ****** (MLP)
I am sorry for ruining all vaginas for you I hope you can recover eventually She said I hate to burst your **** bubble But I’ve slid some lies between your thighs When howling at your moon wasn’t so much praise As it was longing for a change of ***** scenery People change? How I feel right now is like when one time I was sick And my parents recorded a show I watched so I could watch it later And at the end of the show there was a number for a contest to go to space camp I called that number It was disconnected I always find out the important stuff A little late I cried that day I just wanted to go to space camp And I just wanted someone to love me like a black hole A warm black hole to put all my love into **** me in and fix me like there’s no turning back I mean in the darkness of space They all look the same All yank at you turbulent and fiery head rush passion I mean we all love the same So I am sorry I overshot your Venus To crash land in Uranus A semi-purposeful curious passion You coulda yelled **** We felt like **** When we walked away Parts of me have always been missing And I tried to fill the gaps with you Problem is when you might be gay and are fighting it Your closet is a ****** Not your fault your beard looked funny on my **** You can’t wear a person like an accessory I can’t slap her like masculinity till I feel straight again Some things aren’t right I’m not right And you are so messed up now Because you have this superpower to turn men gay You can’t turn men gay You can only remind them of the pain that lies In lying to themselves when they know None of this feels right None of it will Dear former lover Former black hole body Former holder of my confusion And filler of my empty spots I ****** up by ******* you I ****** up
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55
Met a girl on Tinder, fck it we’re all Winners, not thirsty but I’m starvin’, so baby tell me what’s for dinner, what’s in the oven where’s the lovin’, give it all to me raw no apologies no filter, it’s V-Day I’m as depressed as I am on my B-Day, still giving you raw lines uncut with no filler, and yeah Love gives life, but she’s also a killer, stupid Cupid’s got me dreaming lucid, still I feel salty as a Biblical pillar, like Lot’s wife in that one verse, in Genesis 19, yeah I guess lots is how much love hurts, get healed then hurt again, kinda like my life on Tinder, swipe left swipe left swipe right, kinda like Duck Duck Goose or Musical Chairs, not looking for a lifetime just looking for a night, a temporary solution to a permanent problem, some foreign aid in the form of a band-aid on my bleeding heart, can’t fix the problem but sure can relief the symptoms, at least for the night when we forget this earth and get lost in the stars, so I’m searching, swiping on that Tinder app, hoping to find true love, or at least something that resembles that, because my hearts got some holes, and I’m hoping someone can fill them, like my souls got some demons, and I’m hoping someone can **** them, what’s happened to society, and how’d we all get so lonely, especially in the age of social networking, everything seems superficial even this poem feels phony, like when I get liked on Tinder, and I reply with “We matched want to meet up”, and I pretend I’m fine with no worries, when really I’m feeling totally beat up, Jesus, don’t know if I can come step back from this ledge, feeling frozen paralyzed like a bad app, when you can’t scroll so you just refresh, and get a whole new lists or prospects, a whole new set of potential matches, another chance to build something grand, out of the burned past and all it’s ashes, and that’s when, I come back to the present, now where were we oh yeah, it was Valentine’s Day and I was on Tinder again… Met a girl on Tinder, fck it we’re all Winners, not thirsty but I’m starvin’, so baby tell me what’s for dinner, what’s in the oven where’s the lovin’, give it all to me raw no apologies no filter, it’s V-Day I’m as depressed as I am on my B-Day, still giving you raw lines uncut with no filler… ∆ LaLux ∆ The New Book Is FREE Here: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
0
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 2:39 PM UTC
Tinder Winner!
Met a girl on Tinder, fck it we’re all Winners, not thirsty but I’m starvin’, so baby tell me what’s for dinner, what’s in the oven where’s the lovin’, give it all to me raw no apologies no filter, it’s V-Day I’m as depressed as I am on my B-Day, still giving you raw lines uncut with no filler, and yeah Love gives life, but she’s also a killer, stupid Cupid’s got me dreaming lucid, still I feel salty as a Biblical pillar, like Lot’s wife in that one verse, in Genesis 19, yeah I guess lots is how much love hurts, get healed then hurt again, kinda like my life on Tinder, swipe left swipe left swipe right, kinda like Duck Duck Goose or Musical Chairs, not looking for a lifetime just looking for a night, a temporary solution to a permanent problem, some foreign aid in the form of a band-aid on my bleeding heart, can’t fix the problem but sure can relief the symptoms, at least for the night when we forget this earth and get lost in the stars, so I’m searching, swiping on that Tinder app, hoping to find true love, or at least something that resembles that, because my hearts got some holes, and I’m hoping someone can fill them, like my souls got some demons, and I’m hoping someone can **** them, what’s happened to society, and how’d we all get so lonely, especially in the age of social networking, everything seems superficial even this poem feels phony, like when I get liked on Tinder, and I reply with “We matched want to meet up”, and I pretend I’m fine with no worries, when really I’m feeling totally beat up, Jesus, don’t know if I can come step back from this ledge, feeling frozen paralyzed like a bad app, when you can’t scroll so you just refresh, and get a whole new lists or prospects, a whole new set of potential matches, another chance to build something grand, out of the burned past and all it’s ashes, and that’s when, I come back to the present, now where were we oh yeah, it was Valentine’s Day and I was on Tinder again… Met a girl on Tinder, fck it we’re all Winners, not thirsty but I’m starvin’, so baby tell me what’s for dinner, what’s in the oven where’s the lovin’, give it all to me raw no apologies no filter, it’s V-Day I’m as depressed as I am on my B-Day, still giving you raw lines uncut with no filler… ∆ LaLux ∆ The New Book Is FREE Here: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
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62
Even the longest journey Begins with a single step Tendulkar has waited patiently to be a part of winning the world cup The master has some incredible records to his credit No cricketer in the modern era can compare with him for merit Yesterday nearly 120o million Indian glued to the television sets Irrespective Of caste, colour, creed, religion or sects Dhoni and Co rewrote history after twenty eight years From the faces of Indian cricketers rolled joyous tears Cricket brought All the cricketing countries Unbelievably together The western Coach Gary Kirsten and Co were responsible For the Eastern thriller The great sport became the emotional healer and the gap filler And the greatest ever crowd puller Tendulkar has carried the Nation’s burden for nearly twenty four years So His team mates carried him on their broad shoulders Even Tendulkar could not help shedding his emotional tears It was really a great Moment for the entire nation to celebratewith cheers
0
Apr 3, 2011
Apr 3, 2011 at 7:47 AM UTC
THE A WESTERN COACH AND THE EASTERN THRILLER
a quote of Bernard-Henri Lévy ~~~ the divers’ recovery, diverse, shipwrecked salvage from different locations, auctioned to the highest bidder, tho the excised excerpts are exceptional, none come to do the bidding, for the provenance of words belongs to all, and to none ~~ “so oft we trifle words, expel them from the country of our body, without passport and earnestness, as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler, day tourists, to be treated as leavings, refuse for daily discardation, barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance, but leaving not, a mark of distinction” “the addicted pleasure words granted to we privileged few, like every enslaved soul to the mind, which I am, I am, evening dreams, midnight thinkings, sunrise seeings, how can I infect and thus protect the young to the liberty to love the crafted content of our human essence to better comprehend that a moment caught on tape of our shared words is a holiday, a celebration for the ages...and every molecule, becomes a human tuning fork in concert, in pitch identical, in blood tainted with the simplicity of we are all the same, only words, this will transmit” “murmur me, with soft downy charms, these words discovered recoursed and intended well to pointedly offset and contradict their very own tumultuous discovery uncovering, tear tongue me with calming, lapping word  wages, hymns harmonious and fine homilies, a call, a request, a bequest to sedate my shrill life “some cells, microscopic, preserved digitally, aged to imperfection, thrash my eyes, making me speak in tongues I do not recognize, but fluently possess, no wonder there, the memory place fairly empty, room aplenty for passerby's and the imagery                                                          ­ of the vaguest of dearly departed skin is not the only mot shed,                                                 sloughing of woeful words” “speak them slow and distinct, for they arrive slow to you, a trickling of refugees for your sheltering, harbor them as full companions, protected by natural law, provision them well, prepared and ever ready for a quick departure, moor these words at the embarcadero, for the next restless leg of endlessness, which they themselves will inform you will last longer than eternity, long after there are no humans to speak them”
0
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 4:55 AM UTC
“diving into the depths of my words”
a quote of Bernard-Henri Lévy ~~~ the divers’ recovery, diverse, shipwrecked salvage from different locations, auctioned to the highest bidder, tho the excised excerpts are exceptional, none come to do the bidding, for the provenance of words belongs to all, and to none ~~ “so oft we trifle words, expel them from the country of our body, without passport and earnestness, as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler, day tourists, to be treated as leavings, refuse for daily discardation, barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance, but leaving not, a mark of distinction” “the addicted pleasure words granted to we privileged few, like every enslaved soul to the mind, which I am, I am, evening dreams, midnight thinkings, sunrise seeings, how can I infect and thus protect the young to the liberty to love the crafted content of our human essence to better comprehend that a moment caught on tape of our shared words is a holiday, a celebration for the ages...and every molecule, becomes a human tuning fork in concert, in pitch identical, in blood tainted with the simplicity of we are all the same, only words, this will transmit” “murmur me, with soft downy charms, these words discovered recoursed and intended well to pointedly offset and contradict their very own tumultuous discovery uncovering, tear tongue me with calming, lapping word  wages, hymns harmonious and fine homilies, a call, a request, a bequest to sedate my shrill life “some cells, microscopic, preserved digitally, aged to imperfection, thrash my eyes, making me speak in tongues I do not recognize, but fluently possess, no wonder there, the memory place fairly empty, room aplenty for passerby's and the imagery                                                          ­ of the vaguest of dearly departed skin is not the only mot shed,                                                 sloughing of woeful words” “speak them slow and distinct, for they arrive slow to you, a trickling of refugees for your sheltering, harbor them as full companions, protected by natural law, provision them well, prepared and ever ready for a quick departure, moor these words at the embarcadero, for the next restless leg of endlessness, which they themselves will inform you will last longer than eternity, long after there are no humans to speak them”
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58
My Darkness is what makes me I embrace let it taste me Down to the abyss Death my favorite wish Naturally a killer Life is just a filler I hold the cards what should I deal you So dark feel me wicked See a knife I want to twist it Sadist or ********* either way I am gifted You will never see me You can even be me My Darkness seeps into the scenery Serial killer nah I'm much ill-er My Darkness is primal I am a sealer of fate Death Note set the date Allow me to demonstrate Villain mastermind What I am can't be defined Dark so lovely go ahead try mug me Eyes behold what's beautiful is ugly Call me a sinner I'm not a beginner We can play a game there is no winner So let My Darkness take you Devour remake you Heaven will never miss The devil in my kiss...♏
0
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
My Darkness..
I'd last about an hour as a clerk inside a store invariably I'd shoot my mouth off about someone's daughter dressing  like a ***** or making comments about the dreadful things  consumed which would include a good 99% of the people in the room I'd eventually end up getting my lights punched  out after  *********  someone as  a fat ***  undiscerning lout or cracking  some aside regarding what comprises that crud and making faces of revulsion "you'd be better off eating mud" ewwwww, you really eat that stuff? this store should be sued for selling such bluff children with diabetes, a third of adults obese the courtesy clerk dies a little  for lack of surcease line after line of vapid consumers mindless knee-jerk impetuosity belay the rumors what's an adulterant, what's a filler? propylene glycol alginate, yum yum sorbitan mono sterate, shut up and eat it, its fun! I can't even pronounce it, much less do I  care need I be a scientist to enjoyably savor fare Go ahead and poison yourself the quirky clerk exclaimed its ever so clear you're stupid and lame stay mired in your pig-headed muck of  ignorance you're exactly what they want another brain dead consumer a regular culinary savant stuff  your face with no remorse nor heed no worries, the clerk of little courtesy knows your need he'll limply wheel  out your cart of miserable choices for you and wise-crack some snarky rejoinder then promptly get  beaten,  black and blue
0
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 8:09 PM UTC
The Discourteous Courtesy (Quirk) Clerk
I see you crying, the pain's so deep inside, I see your guilt and shame, you've lost all your pride. I see you lonely, yearning to belong, I see you lost and confused, because everything seems wrong. Your broken heart is on your sleeve, That no love or drug could relieve, Oh if only there was just something to believe... So when I'm filled with doubt, I will say this prayer, Cuz I need to know if your light is always there... God I'm lost and alone, Please shine light from your throne. I'm in need of your love, Please shine bright from above. God, let your light shine through me, So all the world can see... That more of you is all it takes for our burdens to be set free. This is world so dark and cold, And this sad song is getting old, Father shine your light straight through my heart, Let my walls fall apart, Oh God this world needs some more of you... Lord let your light shine through us, To show them who we are, God let your light take over, So we shine just like the stars. Cuz this world needs a little hope and love, It needs their father from above, Oh God this world needs a little more of you. So when I need a helping hand, I will say this prayer, because I need to feel you're always there... God I'm lost and alone, Please shine light from your throne. I'm in need of your love, Please shine bright from above. God, let your light shine through me, So all the world can see... That more of you is what we need, to be guided through eternity. And I know that it's not easy For us to shine for me and you. The world around us crashes down, and we forget the word that's true. Jesus died upon that cross To save our sins and win our loss In a world that needs some victory, God will play through you and me. Oh God, this world needs a little more of you. Because this world's so dark and cold, And this sad song is getting old, Father shine your light straight through my heart, Let my walls fall apart, Oh God this world needs some more of you. Your light heals the broken and the weak, Provides any desire that we may seek, Your light is the filler of our cup, We won't run dry, we won't give up. So pour your light right on us and let your grace fall like rain, Because a little more of you is how we'll heal the pain. Oh God, heal the pain... When I'm hurt and I'm scarred, I will say this prayer, Because I want your light will always be there... God I'm lost and alone, Please shine light from your throne. I'm in need of your love, Please shine bright from above. God, let your light shine through me, So all the world can see... That more of you is all it takes to be a brand new me. Because this world's so dark and cold, And this sad song is getting old, Father shine your light straight through my heart, Let my walls fall apart, Oh God this world needs some more of you. When you don't recognize your reflection, Come on run a new direction. When you feel like there's gotta be more, Come bend your knees to the floor. When you're lonely in the dark, A fearful dog that lost it's bark, When you need to find a brand new self, Come dust that bible off the shelf. Open your eyes so you can see, God has a plan for you and me. His light will brighten the darkest places, Fill every corner and empty spaces. He has the power to make all things new, Wash away what was black and blue, Be your strength and dry your tears, Fight away your greatest fears, He will hear your every cry, Take you home the day you die, Forgive your sins and your mistakes, He heals your heart when it breaks. Oh when it breaks... When my heart breaks, I will say this prayer, Because I know God's light will always be there... God I'm lost and alone, Please shine light from your throne. I'm in need of your love, Please shine bright from above. God, let your light shine through me, So all the world can see... That a little more of you is all it takes for us to be all that we can be. Because our world is dark and cold, And our sad songs are getting old, Father shine your light straight through our hearts, Let our selfish walls fall apart, Oh God our world needs some more of you. Oh God I need a little more of you... So one day i will say... There's a light in me, That all the world can see. I was lost, now I'm found, You've turned my life around. There's a love I feel, That every hurt will heal. God is there for you, In everything you do. And every where you go, I hope you always know... That all we need is just a little more, of God to save this world. Oh just a little more... Just a little more... A little more of you in me.
0
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 11:26 PM UTC
Shine the Light
I see you crying, the pain's so deep inside, I see your guilt and shame, you've lost all your pride. I see you lonely, yearning to belong, I see you lost and confused, because everything seems wrong. Your broken heart is on your sleeve, That no love or drug could relieve, Oh if only there was just something to believe... So when I'm filled with doubt, I will say this prayer, Cuz I need to know if your light is always there... God I'm lost and alone, Please shine light from your throne. I'm in need of your love, Please shine bright from above. God, let your light shine through me, So all the world can see... That more of you is all it takes for our burdens to be set free. This is world so dark and cold, And this sad song is getting old, Father shine your light straight through my heart, Let my walls fall apart, Oh God this world needs some more of you... Lord let your light shine through us, To show them who we are, God let your light take over, So we shine just like the stars. Cuz this world needs a little hope and love, It needs their father from above, Oh God this world needs a little more of you. So when I need a helping hand, I will say this prayer, because I need to feel you're always there... God I'm lost and alone, Please shine light from your throne. I'm in need of your love, Please shine bright from above. God, let your light shine through me, So all the world can see... That more of you is what we need, to be guided through eternity. And I know that it's not easy For us to shine for me and you. The world around us crashes down, and we forget the word that's true. Jesus died upon that cross To save our sins and win our loss In a world that needs some victory, God will play through you and me. Oh God, this world needs a little more of you. Because this world's so dark and cold, And this sad song is getting old, Father shine your light straight through my heart, Let my walls fall apart, Oh God this world needs some more of you. Your light heals the broken and the weak, Provides any desire that we may seek, Your light is the filler of our cup, We won't run dry, we won't give up. So pour your light right on us and let your grace fall like rain, Because a little more of you is how we'll heal the pain. Oh God, heal the pain... When I'm hurt and I'm scarred, I will say this prayer, Because I want your light will always be there... God I'm lost and alone, Please shine light from your throne. I'm in need of your love, Please shine bright from above. God, let your light shine through me, So all the world can see... That more of you is all it takes to be a brand new me. Because this world's so dark and cold, And this sad song is getting old, Father shine your light straight through my heart, Let my walls fall apart, Oh God this world needs some more of you. When you don't recognize your reflection, Come on run a new direction. When you feel like there's gotta be more, Come bend your knees to the floor. When you're lonely in the dark, A fearful dog that lost it's bark, When you need to find a brand new self, Come dust that bible off the shelf. Open your eyes so you can see, God has a plan for you and me. His light will brighten the darkest places, Fill every corner and empty spaces. He has the power to make all things new, Wash away what was black and blue, Be your strength and dry your tears, Fight away your greatest fears, He will hear your every cry, Take you home the day you die, Forgive your sins and your mistakes, He heals your heart when it breaks. Oh when it breaks... When my heart breaks, I will say this prayer, Because I know God's light will always be there... God I'm lost and alone, Please shine light from your throne. I'm in need of your love, Please shine bright from above. God, let your light shine through me, So all the world can see... That a little more of you is all it takes for us to be all that we can be. Because our world is dark and cold, And our sad songs are getting old, Father shine your light straight through our hearts, Let our selfish walls fall apart, Oh God our world needs some more of you. Oh God I need a little more of you... So one day i will say... There's a light in me, That all the world can see. I was lost, now I'm found, You've turned my life around. There's a love I feel, That every hurt will heal. God is there for you, In everything you do. And every where you go, I hope you always know... That all we need is just a little more, of God to save this world. Oh just a little more... Just a little more... A little more of you in me.
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121
I still dream of you late at night. I dream of your silky black hair and your big brown eyes and for the night all seems right. I wake up only to not find you there. It's not fair. I miss you and we both know I still love you. I often wonder where we went wrong I Still listen to all of our songs. I listen to every second. Every second, every tear that falls is just happy filler to that fills my day that's all. If I had a time machine I'd travel back and try my hardest to make it all right, but for now I will settle for you in my dreams even if it's just for the night. ~D.P. Shoemaker
0
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 10:41 AM UTC
Scorpio
waiting in a white room with no furniture the humming air conditioner can’t even drown out my thoughts waiting to go back to maryland for a hyperbolic death sentence— to meet with the wonderful hypocrites who shaped my cynicism and anxiety to feast on the last meal of failure. waiting to hear back from potential employers who hold my future in their hands but prefer to let me stew waiting for the tears to start falling I can feel my eyes welling my lungs lugging every last bit of air to my heart as it pounds like an urgent knock at the door waiting alone with just my thoughts. waiting to see the friends who never got out to see the world to look at me with delight, hoping soon I will re-join their ranks as a mindless tractor mechanic or slurpee filler waiting for the cheap bottle whisky in my stomach to regurgitate waiting for numbing conversations about menial tasks and news like the weather, or something else I can see in front of me. waiting to be coma. waiting to see my reflection— or shadow. waiting for paper and pen, waiting for suicide by rhyme at the end.
0
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 30, 2011 at 8:10 AM UTC
I am waiting.
Let the poetry of others repose in majestic halls: My poems are filler for paper shredders, For packing in shipping boxes, And backing for flypaper sticky strips; To wipe the muddy soles of shoes That have seen too much of springtime In the garden. Others poetry fills the airwaves, and sits between the covers of books; My poetry is for grocery lists, And sudden messages you need to scribble while on the telephone, And maps to undiscovered geneological treasures That are only a township away- To trace the faces of cool tombstones Under a mid-day sun. You won't find my poetry near any other kind of list That doesn't say get bleach, dog food, and toilet paper. Still, my poetry is from a well lettered life- I have written all my heartbeats, and most of my sighs Into sibylline hieroglyphics, from midnight initiations In the secret brotherhood, of my own soul: And I will die a freeman, because nobody Will ever feel the need to own any of these words.
0
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 12:51 PM UTC
Words of a Freeman
Only fifteen, He is only Fifthy, He, her cake eaten, Her Grandfathers peer, the Child Fears, that man is so Filthy. Poverty is the biggest SINNER. Orphaned, Two little heads, 10 and 5 Dependant on this 15 year old mother-sister AIDS is the killer. Those groaning two little stomachs need a filler. Now destitute, She drops out, Looks but cant find work Whites say experience lacks Spotted by a mercedes benz driving malechavaunist She is robbed her innocence to put food in the table. Now one day, The mother-sister never returned, Exported to Mexico, Shes been sold. As a ********** *** slave, They made *** tapes The man called the woman by parts of herself. When she cried. "Shut up, you ***** You miss mama ******* Tapes Sold online. Be acknowledged These kids grew up with Aunt Biological parents deserted them just when the young were toddlers. Their mom in Gauteng, a Fan of *********** ..........just one day whilst watching **** on You tube she saw a child with a face like hers Blinked her eyes, looked again Her baby Her baby is a **** star. Called the mercedes benz driving old man... how could he have known? He was never there. oh He Sold her. They recognised their child from ***********
0
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 8:32 PM UTC
***********
Polished off the filler rods now lifes got me dreaming soley about the silver lining the spooning of the woman on the moon Keep mapping the schematic, the big move heading straight to the oil soaked cash Ready again to make the great dash This time I'll save my dimes for those unavoidable hard times I'll pile it under my matress a secrete stash thats all mine Work my *** to the bone by welding up a storm Sitting all leathered up on my light weaver throne To meditate and consentrate on 13 times the suns bright Keep the eyes focused and fixate count to ten when the mechanics frustrate Troubleshoot the lines of life fix the issue then collect the lute.
0
Dec 18, 2011
Dec 18, 2011 at 6:14 PM UTC
Welders rhyme
we both work in the postal service but neither one of us has ever sent a single love letter maybe it's the drill of the job maybe its the grind of the machines or the clack of the keyboards grind turns to a drone and i look around to what we thought were industrialized patents were actually what we had once considered our friends was that where they disappeared to? instead of quitting the dead end i had assumed too fearful to follow the leap they hid away in mail bins and P.O. boxes i thought i was alone maybe i was maybe they really did leave their souls gone with empty shells of bodies remnants of what once was yes i am still alone those who i knew have fled the building in search of a more meaningful existence winding in up in god knows where anywhere but here these gluttonous pantomimes only accept hopefuls midlife crises who leap at the opportunity for promotion like increasing payroll would reduce their age same as the twenty five year old liberal art grads who need a filler to help pay rent while they work on what will collectively become hundreds of thousands of volumes unpublished here i stand twenty eight years old and strip off my badge as it falls to the floor i walk out the door say hello to the next boarding train (last stop your hometown) and goodbye to the dead end road.
0
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
postal
let me tell you, do not stay in a relationship that makes you questioning your worth, or a relationship that feels like a big question mark. you deserve someone who loves you without looking back, someone who does not make you a second best or option, someone who does not involve you in the comparison game. because you are not a void filler, you are not a backup plan, you are not a second choice. let me tell you your worth and what you deserve; you are a galaxy with all its beauty, you are all the best parts about art. you deserve someone who is willing to give the world to you.
0
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 11:13 PM UTC
you are not a second option.
The rivers channel rain The way I channel pain I begin to see the futility In denying pain's utility Pain takes on a ****** nature And becomes my intellectual savior I shatter the mirror And swallow the shards The pain becomes clearer So my ******* get hard Glass fills my lungs They're profusely bleeding From words that stung Being my daily greeting ***** shoots out from my gun When I cut myself for fun My hose starts spewing Once vultures start chewing It's the only way I can cope When it's pain that gropes I live in a world that mixes *** and violence I live in a world that mixes *** and silence Where the painkillers Become the pain creators And our life's filler Is being pain traders A bull has charged through my library for a decade At this point every bovine movement cuts like a blade He creates pain that lasts When every day becomes my past I had a dream A sorcerer controlled my body But he only wanted pieces of me Bones started snapping out of my skin Blood spurting everywhere I awoke to ***** down there I guess life isn't always fair When I dream to avoid stares The real pain comes when I care When the privileged boycott The impoverished boy's cot He learns to ********** in the streets And gains an appreciation for feet Feet that trample The pain is ample When people powerfully push him away So he decides to go against the grain But there's no peace to be attained And all he's left with is pain
0
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 4:45 PM UTC
Pain
He over looks me, His emerald orbs focusing on The girl next to me. To him, I am only a shadow; A filler of space. My only purpose is to exist, And for my feelings, Exactly the opposite. His ***** blonde hair Matches mine exactly, Complementing it like it should. Still, whatever I do, He looks the other way. He looks at her, and only her, Even though she doesn’t feel that way About him. He’s wasting his time on her, When I’m right in front of his face. Sometimes I think about waving, Or saying hi, But I know that it will give me away. And maybe this is just a silly infatuation, But it feels solely and completely real. I don’t want him to be the boy with the green eyes. I want him to be my boy with the green eyes.
0
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 11:30 AM UTC
The Boy with the Green Eyes.
"italicized idleness illuminated by the tic toc of time; fueled fluorescent in the blue confusion of flickering bulbs & clinical corridors of filler conversation."
0
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
empty 'inside'
Being told you are beautiful Is one thing But being told you are beautiful And believing it Is another I have been called beautiful More times than there are freckles on my face (And that is a lot) But not until recent Did I ever believe it Usually I would brush it off And see it as an empty compliment Or a conversation filler Or a device used for personal gain Any time someone would tell me I was beautiful I wouldn't believe it Not even a little bit And that's the way it was for a very long time I was too used to people leaving Especially after I let them get close to me And touch me I was too used to being let down I couldn't trust anyone but myself And I didn't think I was beautiful With or without anyone's truthful or deceiving opinion I truly thought I was the farthest from beautiful Usually when people would give me such a compliment I would say "No, I'm not And you don't mean that" Most didn't bother to argue So I never once believed it Until I heard you say it At first I tried to do what I always did But you wouldn't take no for an answer I'm not sure if it's the way you say it Or how many times a day you say it Or just the fact that I trust you enough But I really do believe you When you tell me I'm beautiful Hearing the words, "You are so beautiful, Evynne" And feeling the honesty and passion pierce my heart Is something I have never experienced before I may not think I am as beautiful as you like to tell me I am But at least I believe it And when I say I believe it I do not mean I agree But rather, you tell me I am beautiful And I think to myself, "You really do make me feel beautiful" Regardless of any prior opinions I held of myself Now that is a very powerful thing
0
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 8:15 PM UTC
More Than Just A Compliment
Being told you are beautiful Is one thing But being told you are beautiful And believing it Is another I have been called beautiful More times than there are freckles on my face (And that is a lot) But not until recent Did I ever believe it Usually I would brush it off And see it as an empty compliment Or a conversation filler Or a device used for personal gain Any time someone would tell me I was beautiful I wouldn't believe it Not even a little bit And that's the way it was for a very long time I was too used to people leaving Especially after I let them get close to me And touch me I was too used to being let down I couldn't trust anyone but myself And I didn't think I was beautiful With or without anyone's truthful or deceiving opinion I truly thought I was the farthest from beautiful Usually when people would give me such a compliment I would say "No, I'm not And you don't mean that" Most didn't bother to argue So I never once believed it Until I heard you say it At first I tried to do what I always did But you wouldn't take no for an answer I'm not sure if it's the way you say it Or how many times a day you say it Or just the fact that I trust you enough But I really do believe you When you tell me I'm beautiful Hearing the words, "You are so beautiful, Evynne" And feeling the honesty and passion pierce my heart Is something I have never experienced before I may not think I am as beautiful as you like to tell me I am But at least I believe it And when I say I believe it I do not mean I agree But rather, you tell me I am beautiful And I think to myself, "You really do make me feel beautiful" Regardless of any prior opinions I held of myself Now that is a very powerful thing
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51
when i'm drinking i always think the whiskey bottle to be in a predicament of the bus stop; i mean, waiting, for my eager slurp (god i wish i could insert an onomatopoeia right now) - i ate that body part and even nozzled it, i mean i stuck my nose in it being ripe... you better have sunday's news to let me forget; i swear, performing oral *** on women's genitalia makes you into an orator... or perhaps a gardener - that skin fold sure as **** speaks! well, better testimony than abraham circumcising isaac against holy ordained orders not to; but then the cat and dog doing overt-masturbation licking the **** thing; yes darling... pooch pooch ouch ooh now chow ready for a pampering? munch a moo choo cha cha wee wee? yeah, get that slobbering ***** filler out of here; oi! bring bang the blonde comb-over ferret! i ain't doing the spider dangle without it!
0
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
bus stop
We have *** everyday. But that's for me. not you. There's a reason I close my eyes when I kiss you. You're the filler-friend. I do not love you. I don't need your advice, I don't need your lectures. I need you to do what you're here for, then leave. Simple as that. Good Riddance.
0
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
Untitled
Lawrence, it’s um, doll… or i see, i met a con executioner.
0
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 5:43 AM UTC
FILLER HAIKU