Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"flog" poems
I can be a sadist I can be a **** I enjoy a bit of pain I'm often filled with lust I want to be the Top and to be topped too I'd love to tie you up or to be tied by you Push the right button and I'll be your subby or grant to me control I may lock you in the cubby Stick me full of needles or I'll put some in you zap me with electricity I may pass the current through Whip me, flog me, spank me I too can you impact I'm happy to do whatever and that's a ***** fact I can be anything for anyone pretty much more or less it all depends on circumstance and on what you confess So let's stop prevaricating and get on with the fun let me know where and when and which way round you run Cynthia Pauline Jones 25/10/13
0
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 5:24 AM UTC
***** Facts
Distant clown, over-grown cow. Greed, fled, fed, boat-led Sam, Getting nowhere, near no fear. Inner, sinner; surrogate's recycle-Bin. Learned not we have, might constitute. Flog a sand-bag, get dusty. Provoke, take a stand for right. Resolve why the hate. Quite! Speaking of cows- inquisitive beasts; Shouldn't be cast the wrong role. Directors fault; new term. Choice-less. Exactly. What would you do? It's not of oppression, strike-down obsession. Internal bee-stings, are not the painful. Whatever the previous past, catalyst presentation... On-going retaliation, stains not a few. **** Rocks are heavy! So what of the boat pudding? Not constructive. World should bear this too. Culinary dialogue. O'Bam, more custard?
0
Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 7:46 PM UTC
Boat Pudding
When we had left the Seamans mission lugging our suitcases, Beeston seemed the best place to go 4.6 A.B.V  felt like pushing the boat, but the fillies were feisty enough to flog off our descendants into the zeitgeist.
0
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 2:11 PM UTC
Christmas glubber
∙∙∙◦◦•◎•◦◦∙∙∙ In a world of turmoil’s people in strife black and gray, a syzygy warring here and there striking each other's knife love one's left friends flog then fade yoking, the loneliness came broken, it's even hard enough —to fathom or wade On a cliff some of us wish to fall like ecstasy to forget to mark nothing from all a road was gifted and ways of life would recall in the verge I might lose so, a verdict, my heart had chosen to live rather than to die I would go to tread a path, a great unknown long long journey still I would go a grasp of hope I'll forever hold as I walk all alone
0
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 2:46 AM UTC
Walk Alone
I'd like three cows - maybe a bull; couple of alpacas - fer the wool. a turtle, a frog, few pigs n a hog, oh, - n a tortoise n a porpoise - the eggs - which I'd flog
0
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 11:24 AM UTC
"- Heggs fer sale -"
I see what you're doing; I know what you are. Seen you travel some distance through this lyrical bar. I know your particular flavor, as you 'give' yet leave nothing to savor. Did you say it all...did you feed your callous need? As your 'so called' critiques and comments just left another to bleed? How 'brave' you are behind your avatar, but you see, You've done little, if anything, to honestly impress me. You use your lack of diplomatic restraint to simply crush spirits and leave behind a dark, bitter taint. Did you say all you needed, does is make you feel better? To ruffle thin feathers; crippling feelings altogether? I know what you're doing; I could BE you, if I very well wanted to! The bile and power of your word, leaves poor souls understanding that their thoughts and opinions, to you, are absurd. Time after time I read your insolent speeches on many a blog, as you spew forth your 'wisdom', dispensing a high voltage flog. I know what you're doing; I could BE you, if I very well wanted to! Unlike YOU, 'friend', I prefer to pay visits and leave a word of kindness; never leaving them with lyrical blindness. Sometimes I may read, and have nothing to say...if their words overwhelm, hit a nerve, or inspire my mind to stray...to a place of recognition...far, far away. I just felt this deep need to express, how you're grating on my nerves; with your sour, evil comments just disguised as 'clever words'. Go on now, my 'friend', try to pen words that INSPIRE... I promise I'll be kind, even as I unleash my fire... unto the likes of you... such a mean spirited shrew! So next time, give great thought to your comment before you click away, 'cause I know many a great poet here, that by YOUR cold, pathetic words... will NOT be chased away! -by Mercurychyld Copyrights
0
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 9:18 PM UTC
LYRICAL POISON
I see what you're doing; I know what you are. Seen you travel some distance through this lyrical bar. I know your particular flavor, as you 'give' yet leave nothing to savor. Did you say it all...did you feed your callous need? As your 'so called' critiques and comments just left another to bleed? How 'brave' you are behind your avatar, but you see, You've done little, if anything, to honestly impress me. You use your lack of diplomatic restraint to simply crush spirits and leave behind a dark, bitter taint. Did you say all you needed, does is make you feel better? To ruffle thin feathers; crippling feelings altogether? I know what you're doing; I could BE you, if I very well wanted to! The bile and power of your word, leaves poor souls understanding that their thoughts and opinions, to you, are absurd. Time after time I read your insolent speeches on many a blog, as you spew forth your 'wisdom', dispensing a high voltage flog. I know what you're doing; I could BE you, if I very well wanted to! Unlike YOU, 'friend', I prefer to pay visits and leave a word of kindness; never leaving them with lyrical blindness. Sometimes I may read, and have nothing to say...if their words overwhelm, hit a nerve, or inspire my mind to stray...to a place of recognition...far, far away. I just felt this deep need to express, how you're grating on my nerves; with your sour, evil comments just disguised as 'clever words'. Go on now, my 'friend', try to pen words that INSPIRE... I promise I'll be kind, even as I unleash my fire... unto the likes of you... such a mean spirited shrew! So next time, give great thought to your comment before you click away, 'cause I know many a great poet here, that by YOUR cold, pathetic words... will NOT be chased away! -by Mercurychyld Copyrights
Continue reading...
57
I've lived off pressure Ridden on expectant falls Derided by some I've been loved without measure Tripped over some hearts Hated by some Whatever it is you do There are expectations to flog you with But always bear in mind That humans We never stop judging Dressed in stereotypes To our burial sites.
0
Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 1:19 AM UTC
Expectations
two men sat fishing by a village stream one short one tall... Short Man: I think he's wrong to chat to kids leave them alone there is no need Tall Man: What have you there your venal mind has lost the plot there is no deed Short Man: No man has kids who like him so it must be bad let's cast our vote Tall Man: No issue here we're always there he's not alone I'll have you note Short Man: They tell him stuff we never hear why don't they talk to us instead Tall Man: You're busy mate you shut them up and all you do is keep them fed Short Man: It's just not done the kids all flock they see a saint could be a threat Tall Man: The Lord himself had kids mill 'round for he was good no need to fret Short Man: It's true I s'pose that's different though a Son of God can do it right Tall Man: So all of us imperfect souls can only lose the moral fight? Short Man: Of course it's not as clear as that just can't abide if kids get hurt Tall Man: Well that's okay but blacken not a decent man by throwing dirt Short Man: I'll flog him to an inch of life if we would hear he's crossed the line Tall Man: You know I loathe all deviant ways be careful though for he's benign Short Man: I hear you man my thoughts run wild we mustn't see it black and white Tall Man: Imagine if he's told this sh-t to slander hear how would that bite Short Man: You have a point not all are bad some have more time than most townsfolk Tall Man: I've heard he steers them to the good he's simply not a usual bloke Short Man: You're right my friend you've pulled me up an honest man we should defend
0
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 7:54 PM UTC
- river trial -
two men sat fishing by a village stream one short one tall... Short Man: I think he's wrong to chat to kids leave them alone there is no need Tall Man: What have you there your venal mind has lost the plot there is no deed Short Man: No man has kids who like him so it must be bad let's cast our vote Tall Man: No issue here we're always there he's not alone I'll have you note Short Man: They tell him stuff we never hear why don't they talk to us instead Tall Man: You're busy mate you shut them up and all you do is keep them fed Short Man: It's just not done the kids all flock they see a saint could be a threat Tall Man: The Lord himself had kids mill 'round for he was good no need to fret Short Man: It's true I s'pose that's different though a Son of God can do it right Tall Man: So all of us imperfect souls can only lose the moral fight? Short Man: Of course it's not as clear as that just can't abide if kids get hurt Tall Man: Well that's okay but blacken not a decent man by throwing dirt Short Man: I'll flog him to an inch of life if we would hear he's crossed the line Tall Man: You know I loathe all deviant ways be careful though for he's benign Short Man: I hear you man my thoughts run wild we mustn't see it black and white Tall Man: Imagine if he's told this sh-t to slander hear how would that bite Short Man: You have a point not all are bad some have more time than most townsfolk Tall Man: I've heard he steers them to the good he's simply not a usual bloke Short Man: You're right my friend you've pulled me up an honest man we should defend
Continue reading...
99
the dog owner neglected his so called friend no sustenance to the dog did he kindly tend over a period of time the poor wretch withered away he took his last panting breath on a hot summer's day twas criminal what the dog owner did foist upon the dog for his uncaring actions he deserves a thumping good flog his heartlessness truly unforgivable the dog seemingly to his eye twas invisible everyday dogs die in a state of distress their owners perpetrating undeniable cruelness
0
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 7:21 PM UTC
Undeniable Cruelness
-Is not poetry -Just blank prose on a blank page -Devoid of meaning That was a haiku listing its own description maybe this is too Fruitlessly search her Find her pointless intention Flog her innocence Be not satisfied consummate your great wisdom speak of your power From literal farce the meaning of life is found flourish as she dies
0
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Not a poem
So I sew stitches around the crown made of fingers twisted like a tangled dandelion strangled garden worn as a closet to hide my crafted paper daft boxes that I keep my skeletons in because their keyholes keep appearing on my face, If you destroyed like me you'd see that ashes are the outcome of a matchstick man, I cannot rest my head yet on my pillows made of dead rabbits feet and fox tails until I store them in their little coffee can tin jars far under this mattress pad of nails, Warm words in cold rooms subsumes the silent night screens projected over by my rising motion picture smoke breath that my eyes watch alone now at a distance starting from my lucky lucky steel dagger full sized sheet set and ending at an omen reflecting my separation anxieties coming from my lungs, Yet loneliness is the only person neatly tucked between it other than my own broken battered body with a shiver and a quiver discretely manifesting, And like white ghosts the stars watch me sleeping at night, You can flog all my windows, But I'll still be sleeping at night, I'll miss all your wake up calls, Every single one, So I let the music play, Because noise cancels noise inside an introverted fire starter
0
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
When I Leave The Room It's Because A Nightmare Sits Next To Me
Dear Me, You have done things in the past Done them fast With no second thought But now You regret the choices you made And when the time comes you will have to pay But until then Try hard to do what's right Ignore the ones who get you frustrated Don't give in and fight Write everything down like you are doing now Write when you are sad, write when you want out Hold closely the ones who are your friends Because you never know when that friendship will end Hold them close stitch them to your heart if you have to Because they are the people who love you Don't forget to hold you family close also Keep your head up when you are brought down When they breach the walls you placed And they throw the words like spears to your head When they beat you and flog you make you raw mentally and emotionally Just keep your head up You shoot me down but I won't fall I am Titanium Sing this when you need to be the best person you can be Be the person you want them to see and enjoy Try hard every day to do what you can Try to be a good man Sincerely, Yourself
0
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC
A letter to Myself
I waste my time with you, everyday with you Enraptured in this sin that we've been hiding in Years go by with us pretending Our connection we keep defending And in the denial we become consumed I waste my life with you
0
Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 5:36 PM UTC
Deprive. Flog. Repeat.
If only she accepted me as her friend, I would accompany her to destination. She wouldnt have search for shade to bend. Love will be our protection. Behold how she shivers like feverish monster. The unmerciful rain made her a wet fowl. She said that rain is the administer of ugly,sorrow,sickness,cold and foul. Oh no! if Goliath seem toughest, call on David,if rain is the administer cold call on love,the supernatural best. The most costly free gold. If me and her in the rain walk, the rain will only flog the dead horse. Our teasing jokes and sweet talk, will be our umbrella,no sorrow nor the worse.
0
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 5:32 AM UTC
LOVE WOULD HAVE BE OUR UMBRELLA
Stick it with a pin And I will yelp Twist its arm And I will cry for help Strip it And I will seek cover Kick its groin And I will double-over Punch it And I will bruise Slice it And I will ooze Stomp it And I will ache Slam it And I will break Drown it And I will choke Burn it And I will smoke Skin it And I will peel Flog it And I will kneel Bite it And I will heave Kiss it And I will leave.
0
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 3:19 AM UTC
Voodoo Doll
go ahead and take a look: I put myself up for show. just don't expect you're due respect when you say what I hear and know. come and take a ride, little doggy, you'll be my pony for the day... comments claim you're a stud, but you still **** in the mud. run home and I'll flog you all the way.
0
Mar 27, 2011
Mar 27, 2011 at 1:54 PM UTC
Tact Comments Only
I was sat in a Tavern in Pompey Town, Sipping a tipple of *** When I watched a Jack make an axe attack, Chop off his finger and thumb! I couldn’t believe the blood that flowed From the cut of that rusty blade, But the barmaid Flo, said ‘You’ve done it, Joe, Now look at the mess you’ve made!’ She cleaned it up with a swill of ale, Walked off with the finger and thumb, ‘I’ll nail these up on the balustrade With the rest that have been as dumb.’ But Joe sang out when he’d had a drink ‘It’s better than being a tar! I spent three years, under the lash On His Majesty’s Man o’ War.’ ‘They ‘pressed me when I was still a kid And treated me like a dog, I suffered scurvy and couldn’t work, The answer to that, was flog.’ ‘They flogged me around the Southern Cape, They flogged me a-ship and ashore, Whenever I thought that I might escape They dragged me onboard for more.’ ‘And Cap’n Foggett’s abroad tonight With his cut-throat parcel of rogues, Impressing the able-bodied men, They’re lining them up in droves.’ ‘For Nelson’s lying abaft the lee With barely a half a crew, He needs more men for the ‘Victory’, And that means me and you!’ ‘In every tavern they’re moving in, In every alley and quay, At first they offer the King’s shilling, To war with the enemy.’ ‘But the Frenchies rake with the carronade That will rip the flesh from your bones, And the decks run red from the men who bled Impressed from their wives and homes.’ ‘They say he sails on the tide tonight So they’re doing a quick Hot Press, Even a gen’lman walking late Won’t meet with their gentleness.’ ‘A cudgel whack on a squire’s head Then dragged to the bilges, free, They’ll never know ‘til they all wake up That they’re headed on out to sea.’ ‘That Nelson’s got but a single arm, He’s got but a single eye, If that’s not enough to be alarmed By God, then I wonder why!’ The Press Gang came to the Tavern door But couldn’t come on inside, They tried to sell me a Man o’ War But Joe had made me decide. I took a gulp of Jamaica *** And I steeled myself to the task, ‘The Press are waiting outside,’ I cried, ‘Just hand me that rusty axe!’ David Lewis Paget
0
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
Before Trafalgar
I was sat in a Tavern in Pompey Town, Sipping a tipple of *** When I watched a Jack make an axe attack, Chop off his finger and thumb! I couldn’t believe the blood that flowed From the cut of that rusty blade, But the barmaid Flo, said ‘You’ve done it, Joe, Now look at the mess you’ve made!’ She cleaned it up with a swill of ale, Walked off with the finger and thumb, ‘I’ll nail these up on the balustrade With the rest that have been as dumb.’ But Joe sang out when he’d had a drink ‘It’s better than being a tar! I spent three years, under the lash On His Majesty’s Man o’ War.’ ‘They ‘pressed me when I was still a kid And treated me like a dog, I suffered scurvy and couldn’t work, The answer to that, was flog.’ ‘They flogged me around the Southern Cape, They flogged me a-ship and ashore, Whenever I thought that I might escape They dragged me onboard for more.’ ‘And Cap’n Foggett’s abroad tonight With his cut-throat parcel of rogues, Impressing the able-bodied men, They’re lining them up in droves.’ ‘For Nelson’s lying abaft the lee With barely a half a crew, He needs more men for the ‘Victory’, And that means me and you!’ ‘In every tavern they’re moving in, In every alley and quay, At first they offer the King’s shilling, To war with the enemy.’ ‘But the Frenchies rake with the carronade That will rip the flesh from your bones, And the decks run red from the men who bled Impressed from their wives and homes.’ ‘They say he sails on the tide tonight So they’re doing a quick Hot Press, Even a gen’lman walking late Won’t meet with their gentleness.’ ‘A cudgel whack on a squire’s head Then dragged to the bilges, free, They’ll never know ‘til they all wake up That they’re headed on out to sea.’ ‘That Nelson’s got but a single arm, He’s got but a single eye, If that’s not enough to be alarmed By God, then I wonder why!’ The Press Gang came to the Tavern door But couldn’t come on inside, They tried to sell me a Man o’ War But Joe had made me decide. I took a gulp of Jamaica *** And I steeled myself to the task, ‘The Press are waiting outside,’ I cried, ‘Just hand me that rusty axe!’ David Lewis Paget
Continue reading...
61
Godless poetry Dangling from a skill tree Disgusting when i rot Stop me Start me Cautiously Fearsome knot Frees me Flees me Freeze me If hell is hot Sock me Mock me Flog me But trust me not Its mine to break:
0
Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 11:44 PM UTC
Mine to break
I am in transition, I speak to those who come after me, I learn from those who come before me. In trepidation and in fear, I wait for the anticipation found only in her tears, that when they bloom on the dry, thirsty wood, marks the time to begin, I hear. And in a whisper, a whimper, and shrill, when cold leather makes a trail, the heartbeat beats fainter still, until that time when metal becomes a pill. I make her back warm, Melting Iron, Smelting leather and skin, Into leather again. She is silent as a mouse. She sits, remaining only a part of the beats, and his expressed torturous tenderness. Where consent meets fear and pain, there is a shadowy still sadness that waits to be shown in the light that is happiness and gain. Some see a barbarous deceit, in that which takes place, but she only says, Please. Please. As you wish. I flail and flog at my own inexperience, waiting to see, if I make a mistake or three. Til the time comes when she screams out loud, I press on, deeper, deeper, until a chasm is found. The afterglow of the torturous tenderness, that illumines the heart and makes fuzzy the eyes, is enough for me to see that consent remains. I ask only the simplest questions, Noting that she's infantile in emotions, where high context rules, and only those that know the code may endure. She limps and lingers, needing more than her fingers as she craws safely into that safe place called her spiritual chamber. Having melted iron, leather and skin been smelt into leather again, I sigh at those wafers that cannot understand, that the greatest of gifts is in a helping hand.
0
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
A Helping Hand
I am in transition, I speak to those who come after me, I learn from those who come before me. In trepidation and in fear, I wait for the anticipation found only in her tears, that when they bloom on the dry, thirsty wood, marks the time to begin, I hear. And in a whisper, a whimper, and shrill, when cold leather makes a trail, the heartbeat beats fainter still, until that time when metal becomes a pill. I make her back warm, Melting Iron, Smelting leather and skin, Into leather again. She is silent as a mouse. She sits, remaining only a part of the beats, and his expressed torturous tenderness. Where consent meets fear and pain, there is a shadowy still sadness that waits to be shown in the light that is happiness and gain. Some see a barbarous deceit, in that which takes place, but she only says, Please. Please. As you wish. I flail and flog at my own inexperience, waiting to see, if I make a mistake or three. Til the time comes when she screams out loud, I press on, deeper, deeper, until a chasm is found. The afterglow of the torturous tenderness, that illumines the heart and makes fuzzy the eyes, is enough for me to see that consent remains. I ask only the simplest questions, Noting that she's infantile in emotions, where high context rules, and only those that know the code may endure. She limps and lingers, needing more than her fingers as she craws safely into that safe place called her spiritual chamber. Having melted iron, leather and skin been smelt into leather again, I sigh at those wafers that cannot understand, that the greatest of gifts is in a helping hand.
Continue reading...
47
Listen... As they show you their many needs and ways From the moment they are born To the very last of your days Their poetry is in motion They're language is in play Their cries for help, behavior Their wisdom, confounds "your way" Love... Though you may be tired And doubt plagues your mind You crave quiet open spaces And Sanity is so hard to find Know each grace is given For travelers to find a path Branches placed to trip you Land you on humility's softened grass Learn... To see youself the prisoner You keep under lock and key The one you flog for disappointing The one who begs to be set free To let go of your agenda Your illusion of control Listen, Love and Learn All that's needed to be made whole.
0
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 1:47 AM UTC
Listen, Love, and Learn
*A Pale thick fog, A dark moonless night, To live forever we're agog, Until death angel comes, When your time runs out, He finds you no doubt, To lay your soul to waste, To lay your soul out of this life, You can hear nothing but him whispering, Calling your name and death murmuring, You see nothing but his face, With every single breath, You smell nothing but death, You have no excuse, You can't say no for death, You can never refuse, A dead horse you flog, If you look for clues, Only life to lose, No options, it's fate, You can never choose.*
0
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 4:36 PM UTC
DEATH
My friend, my LOVE! You're asleep and I sit here looking at you. Flipping through the pages of your past, my heart bleeds for you tears well in my eyes for you. I've seen the things you have, experienced it all, lived it all - at your side. You, my friend, my dearest friend - I've known you all your life You show mercy, even to the smallest creature you fight for the weak and helpless I just wish you could show yourself that mercy show yourself the love and compassion you so freely do for others For you deserve it! The stuff you've endured the life you've had and challenges you've faced, would have broken lesser men Now I lay you down to sleep maybe to be released again in the morning's early hours when your defences are down! For in the day, you keep me locked behind our eyes you cage me in our heart, you silence me and I stare in horror as you flog us beat and punish us and deal harshly with us for stuff that hasn't always been our fault. Tomorrow morning, reading this please show yourself some mercy you're not that bad you might even be better than you know even deserving of love
0
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 8:58 PM UTC
My Friend
This is too much. Surely, I did something To deserve things as such. A lazy, glassy-eyed **** You haven't kissed me open-mouth In well over 15 months. The good guy routine Well, it isn't a routine... But I artfully mask my anger with ******* at night And in the mornings caffeine. I imagine That when you look at me I'm less man than machine. But knowing me, I'll continue to flog myself For these crimes I haven't committed. And maybe one day the gavel will fall And I'll finally be ever-acquitted.
0
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 10:36 AM UTC
Dis Tew Much
the dog owner neglected his so called friend no sustenance to the dog did he kindly tend over a period of time the poor wretch ebbed away he took his last panting breath on that hot summer's day twas criminal what the dog owner did foist upon the dog for his uncaring actions he deserves a thumping good flog his heartlessness truly unforgivable the dog seemingly to his eye twas invisible every day dogs die in a state of distress their owners perpetrating undeniable cruelness
0
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
Undeniable Cruelness