"fouls" poems
Beowulf the hier of nothing of rot
Mother he know not
Raised in shame banished wroght
Returned to his village to seek wrothgar a father he yet sought
News of death the sorrow he fought
Till the night trouble it brought
Grendal at night did strike
Killing thous from wicked and strife
None but Beowulf saw the **** of the fight
Guards did come, and saw a false sight
Beowulf they thought the killer that night
Sentenced to death but never to suffer that blight
Beowulf escaped and rode at dawn, Off to seek golem and where he lurk
Off to the woods there they found Grendal
With much haste golem charged Beowulf dirk was drawn
Hacking off the fingers of golem was hurt
Grendal roared and ran
Holding tightly to his wounded hand
Beowulf returned with trophy in bag gasps where made across the land
Guards double watch patrolling village to make a stand
Night came and blood was shed
Grendal made way to the mead hall all the way warriors bled
Beowulf was ready and calmly said
I have his fingers how about his arm instead
Attacking the creatures buckled arm ripping it off golem then ran and fled
Beowulf grabbed arms and said fingers now arm soon his head
They reassembled on horses arms ready and raged
Gave chase
All fell but Beowulf by accord golem laid dead he lead deeper around bend
mother by him seducing Beowulf of power and ***** by all that was said
Beowulf accepted the fouls bargain
But all was not well in thee end
Dragon flew to the sky warriors of King Beowulf Fend
Beowulf killed his son of the dervish deal the dragon
But deadly wounds of were not on dragon alone Beowulf had fallen both a killing blow send
Beowulf funeral ceremony of fire and water below the deep the foul was spotted to be burned alive with Beowulf lover in arms
Blasphemy and Treacherous woes for all of she slaughtered
Now known Beowulf deed leading men like fodder
Against them knowing deal he had waged
Too be written and sung in the latter days
Beowulf the hero king the liar the cheat they called
Beowulf the man flawed as all that ultimately brought his downfall
Nov 20, 2020
Nov 20, 2020 at 6:56 PM UTC
A new year is coming.
We want all the money.
Telling every woman bag back.
We was lost.
We fell off track.
Let's hope we do not relapse.
How could I worry about shot clocks, when I’ve been fighting just to make it to the playoffs.
Getting fired and hired and laid off.
You’re too focused on materialistic and pretend things.
Trying to impress your friends and these women.
I say all the time let’s move different.
This won’t fix none of the things that I’ve mentioned.
The relationship’s more like tradition.
We fight and don’t talk but we're moving on.
I still stay to myself, I’ve been traded on.
I can’t rush into something I keep my patience.
But you’re giving techs, fouls and a flagrant.
We know I can hit me a buzzer to win the game.
But why would I win just to feel pain.
Trying to fix myself and my mind-frame.
Stay true to myself in my own lane.
We all know these other women all want me, but I act expensive yet they all adore me.
To tie the knot won’t complete this story.
Better tighten up, soon they can afford me.
A couple of years of dating.
We on thin ice like we’re skating.
Don’t want to break, I’m just saying.
Believe it or not, I’m not faking.
Spent my whole life for this training.
For shot clocks...
So you can keep timing me or move along.
I should be writing a better poem and songs.
Self centered, you’re right and I’m always wrong.
If anything, you’re the one taking too long.
For shot clocks...
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 6:55 AM UTC
Soccer is the sport
Which my heart belongs to
Kicking a ball into a goal
Under a sky so blue
Yesterday a game
Was played quite nicely
Until the end
When we became less feisty
A kickoff to start
The beginning of the game
Not many spectators
As it's not of fame
Trying to get the ball
Like a good player should
I get backhanded in the face
Hard
Knocked to the ground as I should
The refs call no fouls
As they favor the other team
It made me so mad
Since my lip had begun to bleed
Further into the game
The ball comes towards me
Nails me in the stomach
Making me want to scream
The halftime whistle blows
We get off the field
To go over the game plan
And take a time to chill
Getting back on the field
Determined to tie the game
We get the kickoff
The ball our claim
So ways into the game
Another player crashes into me
I fall to the ground in pain
Because I twisted my knee
I'm taken off the field
Another player goes in my place
But it didn't really matter
The game was over with grace
It wasn't our best game
But we've certainly had worse
Next time we'll score
And hopefully, no one will get hurt
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 1:30 PM UTC
Is love a game?
Are there winners and losers?
I know it creates liars, cheaters and boozers
But it also creates romance, hopes and dreamers
The good with the bad, the angels and demons
Is love a game?
Can you forfeit your heart?
Is there a finish line? Where do you start?
Who keeps score and who decides?
Who is in charge and who is along for the ride?
Is love a game?
Are there MVPs or all stars?
Can you get injured? Can you leave with scars?
Blood, sweat and tears, nothing compares
To finding that one person who truly cares.
The ultimate touchdown, run and jump-shot
The hardest battle that you've ever fought.
Is love a game?
Who is your competition?
Yourself, your lover or other women?
Are there personal fouls? Can you get ejected?
Do you get two shots if you feel neglected?
Is love a game?
I want you on my team.
I pick you first- just you and me.
I know we can finish in first place,
If you can just look me in the face
And tell me that you want to win,
That you want to knock down that final pin
We keep getting spares, it's always the same
You keep me asking is love a game?
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 2:44 PM UTC
Two loose yellow tongues flap me back
to that cul-de-sac of leather
***** bounced on a tarry hot blacktop.
The sweat came fast, our slapping palms
got slippery. We couldn't waste time
on excuses or fouls, just elbows
strategically placed, saggy smiles
and my canvas Chuck T's tearing
away from worn-down rubber soles.
Apr 16, 2010
Apr 16, 2010 at 9:23 AM UTC
The Miss, Misters and Mrs.,
And the St. Joseph's Sisters,
Made me a Bluejay,
Jay- jaying and soaring
Over Wrens and Robins
Below in five rows.
Teeth marks on Ticondarogas,
Initialed pink rubbers,
Toothpicks and fingers
Solved all those problems.
Sister Lucille showed me Sarnia
On the Neilson Wall Map,
With the Malted Milk,
Crispy Crunch bars staring back.
They looked too delicious,
Her reprimand was contritious,
I'm doing time during recess,
Ninety minutes til lunch.
We stood in a crooked line,
Like a snake, to get marked,
With her drawer a crack open
We'd get a peek at her strap.
Black or red, correctively cold;
Sister Roseangela, we'd heard,
Cried, Quid Pro Quo.
We had football baseball,
And hockey dreams,
Volleyball, basketball,
And funeral teams;
Field Days, Holy Days,
Days needed at home;
Teachers were coaches,
With little time to complain;
But the kids back then
Just weren't the same.
There were skirmishes, fouls,
Strike outs and time outs;
We were sliced white bread,
No rye or whole grain.
We'd march double file
Once a week to the Church,
To genuflect and reflect
At the Stations and Cross.
To confess, get redress,
Display penitent remorse,
Though keeping a secret
From the Confessional box,
A comfort and curse.
Their objective succeeded,
The lessons went deep;
Using the three Rs,
The ABCs, 1, 2, 3s,
To impart and ingraine
How to carry one's cross.
I remember by name
The Miss, Misters and Mrs.
And St. Joseph's Sisters
Who gave their all,
Each day, and always.
They've gone or retired,
But recalled in tranquility
For the life-lessons I admire.
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 12:06 PM UTC
heal myself of the past
with dirt and rough skies
rain drinking as a shield
of the light passed
searching through the souls,
that bear all the slides
bold headed stay
tired of their fouls.
large locks fall
spewing out the skin
"O"-s and eyebrows lie
numbing my downfall.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 9:06 AM UTC
The reason is
The reason lives
Thinking is just diluting
The last true thought.
I am contemptuous
My belittling glance tells you this
And you still step up
A cutthroat diamond in the rough.
This is how the humans
All come through
Diner dashes and music school
Stageway prancers where dreamers rule.
Wasted hours
Clocking the highest sponsors
And if there's a glimmer of light
They all rush to the window.
Life the red tide
Time is time going by
Eat your unspoiled veggies now
Your own dreams ready to die.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
It is well known that evil spirits hate sweet smells and sends them running straight back to hell.
Once a mans object shows his true face nothing can be unseen again..I run I race.
I am very frightened by his face.
Look in left corner and you will see it is true..there is an EVIL MAN Haunting and Staring right at you.
There is no edit, no touch up-no game.
This mans objects show his face of shame.
I know the beast within him rages with fear.
I pour it on me heavily
the frankincense and myrrh~
Evil spirits hate that smell.
it fouls their mouth their nose and their hairs.
They stand on end and he protests..that **** stinks
I cannot digest!
I tell the man It is frankincense and myrrh
And it protects me from evil spirits that spur.
I look right at him no feat in mind
I tell him I wear it because of your kind!
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 12:34 AM UTC
Paralyzed with possibility;
These choices stun something within me.
Yearning to grasp what it is I want,
Whilst keeping myself chained. A taunt.
The animal within stirs up a chorus of growls,
The innocence slips past that thought which fouls.
My claws are sharp. My teeth, the same.
I am one who can not be tamed.
Jul 8, 2019
Jul 8, 2019 at 10:23 PM UTC
I neglected your heart when you gave it to me.
I shoved you & your genuine love when you tried your luck on me. I let the noise of the world silence my inner voice which told me all about your potential.
I stood on your way when you wanted to give your love to another person of which was very unfair of me.
I know I'm a **** but I'm genuinely sorry for all my fouls. I've never scored anything by the way.
My demons fought with my thoughts of you. I kind of seemed sprung, but it was never that. It was true love.
Balance is one of my challenges. Your love is too much for me, forgive me for all that you went through for I led you on. I'm sorry.
By: ofentse_tsie
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
I feel sad, oh, I feel sad,
Don’t shun me, for I'm mad, I'm mad.
Yes, I've had my share of strife,
That's why I carry this heavy life.
I lived by the red river's flow,
In a castle where darkness did grow.
Don't judge me for the past I had,
I dwelled with the wastrels, and it was sad.
I never thought the way they taught,
I was cast aside, battles fought.
But I wasn't wrong, hear my song,
Though my life didn't always belong.
I've sailed the river of life's vast pool,
Hiding my feelings, like a fool.
I've made mistakes, committed fouls,
But I won't let that darken my soul.
I may have been careless, lacking demand,
I admit, at times, I've been a little sappy lad.
Let's forget the past's deep bends,
And embrace a future that amends.
Sep 23, 2023
Sep 23, 2023 at 9:32 AM UTC
Nerves shot emotion frayed,
Still this endless despair stays.
The blanket blots in black,
shielding shying shimering cracks.
Hopeless you turn to those around,
Feeling empty cold and mind not of sound.
Dropping dreaming days are dieing.
Listless loveless lonliness and crying.
Keep me grounded but not kept silent.
Hold me tightly before desperation turns violent.
Stabbing, screaming softly to stay alive,
Pinching punching pulling eyeing knives.
Quieten these words to not raise brows.
Because honesty and weakness fouls.
Singing softly slowly to the breeze,
Languishing longing laying i hug my knees.
Begging for my heart to freeze.
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 3:56 PM UTC
Tangling temperament fouls my mood
Whispers of paradise; illicit and ****
Conquers my femur, my patience-
I brood.
Lips kiss of magic, twisted with soot
Who comes to split me?
To carve me in twos...
Magnificent folly, cement me in glue.
Mar 9, 2022
Mar 9, 2022 at 6:16 PM UTC
you sit and try to learn
The words you hear you said you could have written but you just needed another minute
When will it be your turn , to become a black balloon, and float toward freedom and the moon, your temper grows and true hearts are shown and now my mind has been blown like a referees whistle, you act like you are innocent but you know the fouls that you have committed
Just paint me a picture, of the future you see for yourself, tuck it away until a later day, let it collect dust upon your shelf
You are now the dove you dreamed of
Flying away back home, they say you can **** 2 birds with one stone,only if you agree to be alone
But I can only see the memory inside, even if its pressed betweeni a lie but your memory stays painted oN my mind
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 5:38 PM UTC
you know that feeling you get when you wake up
right before the alarm clock goes off?
that is us.
we are as carefully constructed as sand castles...
always one grain away from the hour.
just one inch too short of making the rollercoaster,
and tippy-toes now just won't cut it.
we are a missed flight.
i ran my fastest, carrying along our bags, bulky and heavy.
my palms keep getting blistered,
and i know for sure its not the monkey bars
or that baseball bat,
i kept swinging.
one homerun for every hundred fouls.
we are one mile short of the marathon.
a violin strung too tight to symphonize.
a micrometer short of the ratio--the golden
green of nature. but Frost knows best
that nothing gold can stay.
we are the silver medal,
and never could i settle for second best.
we are tired, weighted eyes
longing for closure,
and peaceful slumber.
but our lids are taped wide open
and we have stared too deeply,
too certainly and stubbornly,
into the past that
like an orphan on his birthday,
there never came a present.
we are that feeling.
we are the breaking point,
that moment right before you lean in
for a kiss you'll never get to steal.
the longing after lightning
for the thunder,
only ever finding silence.
and no law of physics can explain
this hole now.
we are a dead and ancient language,
a star that burned out just one century too early
to ever shoot into a wish.
a wave lost in the ocean,
a tree fallen in a forest so vast,
so pure, so untouched,
it didn't even deserve to make a sound.
we are two figments of one imagination.
a dream we are both too afraid to wake up from,
a grip so tight that everything just slipped...
...away into the wind that caught
your hair
and mine
and the wing of a seagull,
soaring steady above the coast
into a sunrise
we will never arrive in time to catch.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 12:19 PM UTC
I forgot the days
Of yesterday
And the past fouls,
I forgot to jot down
And weave
Consonants with vowels,
I forgot to wrap
Your heart
In warm misty towels,
And now you’re gone
And all that is left
Are my bleeding bowels.
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
The bitterness in your thoughts were evident in your eyes...
Its ok, somehow I knew it was all bunch of lies...
Vows, promises, loyalty just as well, I came to know...
That people of such virtue could fall so low as you...
Remember wise men have said, your fouls are watched by gods...
But don't you worry these sayings are only for odds...
A day shall come, when you might realise...
How selfish you were in losing me with your ugly disguise...
©sim
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 9:36 PM UTC
I said so many times
that it would be useless
I already knew the answer
knew the lack of interest
avoidance; helplessly shrugging off; taking off
such a pointless question
it lingers on my face, in my skin and I was
all clean in fresh socks so in the morning it looks renewed
but its the groggy feeling I can't clean the lingering stench of the
answer that fouls my personal space the unbelievable stabbing of the words you leave behind you leave alone you leave unformed it brings within a sea sickness that leaves me blind with vile headaches and bloated with excuses such a pointless thought avoidance; helplessly closing in; standing ground I hate the twinge in my stomach when I lock up for the night closing off all doors to the bitter soot the wretched trash I keep getting it all over but it smudges into the others leaving a trail of something I pretend doesn't exist even though everyone can see it (I can see it) so I heave a couple excuses to the wind and hope it blows through everyone hell I hope it doubles back isn't it time I believed it too and I know that if it wasn't for the 2% milk there wouldn't have been enough reason to come by there's never enough reason but it's the same thing I keep telling myself today you'll get through and tomorrow you'll get through and the day after that you won't have to just "get though" it will feel renewed as fresh as my clean skin and the disturbed air at your side will revisit a prayer and later I can thank God for the milk
I said so many times
that it would be useless
at least you can have your cereal
and move on
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 10:48 AM UTC
on Stage
a peacock of makeup
the comedian
bating thunderous uproar
knighting fury
turning humour over the belfries
of the overcharged assemblage
he fouls with them
utilizing his vile material
putting together ideas that no brain wants scribe
visuals
you create yourself
(but
your twist at his bidding)
you become broken down and ******
applied apart by his gagging speech
and his splintering costumes of mood
the comedian builds from this
until rage
and ruptures of relief
integrate...
a berserk laughter is result
kettled in the mob reaction
a collective convulsion
a need
more than a mirth
japes dressed in death
have foraged a credible rebirth
his soldiers attired
he has seized his corps of souls
his Mad recruits of Chaos
the comedian pulls out a plastic toy Sabre
and directs the revulsion
(the Grand Prank)
in a charge against
the wealthy neighbours
Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 11:41 AM UTC
...
*I rouse from
the lap of ocean..
rose up down
now and than...
~~~
flew on on the
wings of clouds..
walk play and
commit many fouls...
~~~
collide with the
mighty mountains..
feeling cavalier
without any pain...
~~~
a sudden my tears
rushing down
on cheeks...
flowing on peek
valley n creeks....
~~~
unconscious
unaware and shy..
unable to rise
unable to fly....
~~~
rushing towards
unknown deepness..
time passes
no hope no guess...
~~~
one day when
open the eyes ..
all around silence
vast blue sky...
~~~
I was in the
lap of ocean..
trying to gather
my lost emotion...
~~~
to start with
again a new life..
keeping myself
polite and calm ...
*****
©deovrat*
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 2:25 AM UTC
A glass of wine, a rainy evening…
The window’s wide open, the candles blink.
The wind is trying to put them out.
Silence fills her. No need to think.
She feels good, and no need to hurry.
Tears of heaven delight the ear.
She has no friends. She has no girlfriends.
And only her cat is always near.
She is contented with her aloneness.
There’s no fluster or moping at all.
She’s pleased with herself and she is honest
With her own conscience and with her soul.
She doesn’t want any loving thrills,
No worrying, no passions, no needless doubts.
All is got over. Nothing remains.
Enough as it were so many fouls.
The wine is drunk. The evening is chilly.
The window’s wide open. The candles went out.
She calmly goes to pure bedroom.
No need to hurry. And all is out.
Feb 20, 2025
Feb 20, 2025 at 1:30 PM UTC
The revelation of my ways lead me back
But that wall, it never crumbles
If we forget and forgive how long
Till we relive all our fouls and fumbles?
Carry me back to that time at the water
And your skin never looked so good
Your lack of persistence I never understood
And where are you now?
Where are you now that I'm gone?
Do you feel wronged
Or regret that I had to write you this song?
It was never gonna work
You told me last
Did you even bother to look through our past?
Who called it bad?
The only thing you told those faces is why you're so sad
But why not me? I was always open to suggestions
My bones could break from the weight I carried for you
And you can't turn away and act like it's not true
Stop this front, it's getting old
You always do what your music told
Wanna hear some romantic ****
Take a seat and let us handle it
Us, not the voices in your ears
The ones who don't know the good in our years
Carry me back to that time at the water
And your skin never looked so good
Your lack of persistence I never understood
And where are you now?
Where are you now that I'm gone?
Do you feel wronged
Or regret that I had to write you this song?
I'm not sounding desperate
In saying we need to fix this
I know it, you know it,
Always swing and a miss
How hard can it be for you to forget everything that I miss.....
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 2:27 PM UTC
The muthaphukkaz always lurking
Lookin for wayz to **** and
Suckas wanna claim mass apeal
**** how the masses feel
Id rather come with the real
Fresh daytons on the 64 with the chrome trimmed steel
For real for real heads get peeled
Talking outta line
***** im from Htown where we climb
The ladder of success
Smokin that budda for the eternal bless
Inhale exhale from ya chest the best
To test the streets know me
As i manifest
Like pac did pack pistols like eazy did
Make em rollover like rock the kid
And you know how i go in and out of hoes
Haters get exposed friend of foes
So go on with that hating ****
Before ya end up in a casket
Dead ghetto ******** smoke a philly
So i can chill just givin up the real the real
The muthaphukkin realllll
Now that the smokes rising fires blazin
Hands in air as im raising
Nothing but hell in the atmosphere
True playa international to be exact
Sharp as a tact dont know how to act
Ever since my Ogs taught me how to polish the mack
Death waitin for innocent or fouls souls
No repent heaven inside of hells cells
Sound libertys bell unravel the veil
Truth comes foo cant hide from my tools
Make bodies drool and ooze
Blood ya lifes wasting away
**** what ya gotta say i dash away with the ak
It dont matter where it hits em
As long as the bullets get em
Im crazy funky serious with this poetry ****
I didnt wanna be a rebel
But the rebel found me when i was baby
So dont get mad if i get an urge to ****
Just give up the what the what
Tha real the real the muthaphukkin real
Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 2:17 PM UTC