"fourty" poems
The blue Arabian sea, the towering Western Ghats
This then is Kerala the most beautiful Indian state
Lush green hill stations, lowland paddy fields
All are in Kerala between the mountains and the sea
Fourty four rivers flow so water here for all
Exotic plants in abundance beside the waterfalls
Enchanting emerald back waters put here for your delight
The days are never long enough to view each wonderous site
Kerala is called gods own country, the reasons very clear
Wildlife abounds, exotic birds and sika deer
Here you will live longer than in any other state
Fresh food in abundance and low mortality rate
Why don't you come and visit this paradise on earth
And take away the memories that you will always cherish
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
sext: wrap me in the blanket that's in the back seat of your car, call her while I'm staring into space, tell her you love her out of no where
sext: uuuuuuuuhhhhh......I don't want to move in with you
sext: I love you but I'm moving a thousand miles away
sext: I love you so I'm moving a thousand miles away
sext: I'm moving a thousand miles away BECAUSE I love you
sext: I want to bite off your tongue
sext: really bad
sext: you shouldn't have told her you love her when I was already off the ledge
sext: I'll bite your lip, it'll bleed, red will pour down your mouth and your clothes and your horns will poke through and BOOM! satan
sext: baby baby BABY you turn me on
sext: especially when your actions completely correlate with what I was always told not to do
sext: I was told not to do you, but, well....ok we were supposed to hangout at a park like this is a ******* indie movie but this cop told me that park was closed? I didn't know parks ******* close? so we met in a parking lot and you mentioned how your roommate wasn't home and la la la la LAAAAA, we ended up on your living room floor and the carpet was covered in my black lace
sext: I'm wearing high heels, tall ones. I'm 5' 11 1/2", you're, ummm...something. someone. oh yeah, I'm in love with you. well, I dunno about that anymore what's love? I defined it and it said "sext: an intense feeling of deep attachment". ah, ok, got it. I now understand you, love. this was supposed to be **** ya no, like me running down the back your legs in my red high heels, sending chills through your veins and breaking all of your bones. ****** **** right? **** I ruined it when I brought up love
sext: uh, it's been 3 days since we've talked. I know you said like 3 months ago that we needed to "draw new lines for each other" and "figure out how to have self control and not pounce the other when we're alone and I play smashing pumpkins" but we've ****** like what, 40 times since? and you told me you loved me and begged me not to leave soooooooo....? those lines need to be erased buddy boy
sext: uhg. you don't get it. I'm tired. got so drunk I could barely stand last night. slept for fourty minutes. then worked a thirteen hour shift. I'm sorry. give me a kiss. no? but this is supposed to be a sext?
sext: nothing you say is equivalent to a sext these days
sext: take your clothes off
sext: take your clothes off
sext: then take mine off
sext: then take mine off
sext: you wear mine, I wear yours
sext: jk babe the clothes are off we're ******* ******
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 3:44 AM UTC
I admit the Pressures you Three must pass
Your own Barometres took quite a toll
From Stubborn Demands your ****** Peers had
Compel you to Shrink and keep on a Roll
But there are VALUES; Those Trusted Elders
In Humble Present their Words will sure Guide
All you need is some Time for yourselves, Brothers
Such that its Petals will unwrap for your Sight
Kind and apt Admiral! May your Shoes fill
Set their Braces to walk they know can Trust
So even if Hooties make Milk-Thoughts spill
A Shielding Light to soap their Dunged Shells, must.
This is just an Advice. Again from a Friend
Whose busy Torrents tries to Help does rend.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC
What begs a Sonnet if not to Express
But Expression alone Good Fame depends
If Maps such as these confuses the Rest
Then Life's Published Theme will begin to End
These Girls do not just a Heart label so
Pressing the Rewind back to Robin's Day
But Issues pressed onto Paper, and go
Feed the Bird's Stem and regulate their Say
Someone like me must care about these Things
And Mark at how their Chemistry reacts
Prudence, the Ingredient I must now bring
To set my Items from Falsehoods to Facts.
It would be Easier if you just Spoke
Perhaps my Attitude made me go Broke.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 3:08 AM UTC
some greedy little bitter man has put together a picture-perfect person and out of pure laziness and malignant attempts at control he pays off a psychopath to make it happen but we’re just a little body, flesh and bones come between them and their paychecks so why not make it easier? they made a factory out of our garden and nothing grows in factories it’s manufactured, easy as one two three four five six, we’re all sitting on an assembly line waiting for some alcoholic man to shout at some pimply-faced twenty-something “FASTER! FASTER!” so it begins! press of a button, we’re created, step one: your parents were given the baby books, kids! infants, they’re all the same anyways. they’re not individuals yet, they haven’t been encoded so relax, parents. want them turn out like you? sure, do what your parents did, worked out well, eh? been occupying this factory your whole life, then? well anyways, step two: they spend less time with you because you’ve been in this world for three years so it’s time you get out on your own…. step three: they gotta YELL and scream and children aren’t supposed to touch things or say things or scrape their knees because that’s more work for the adults, and they work all day, just like they were programmed for, good little machines 'cause they forgot what it’s like to be a baby or an animal or a plant or a God but also the resentment, a child wants to live but how ridiculous? there’s no life in industry… all about the money baby step four: you buy your education because it builds your character because money says power but when did meaningless power equal respect? I don't know but they force you into reading the same old instruction pamphlets left in the break room at the plant for the past century or so and five: your turn to work for fourty years in this polluted place because it’s hard to break free from twenty-three years of moulding into a cookie cutter you never did fit, that’s why it hurts so much when they try to push you through, your muffin-top is sliced right off and you’re contorted to fit the view of perfect sugary sweetness but just to make sure you're ready they coat you with vanilla icing to cover up your imperfections, perfect, now step six, and this one is the doozy, and because you’re **** broke: go back to mom and dad’s and grab those baby books and again and again and again the cycle repeats and repeats and repeats….
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 9:03 PM UTC
What is the Secret of your Great Tan Skin?
This be bashful on a Blind Afternoon
With you on Sail, and Tongues burning within
High on a Jetty, the Girls see you soon
Frankly, you the Millennium's Next Best Ken,
Picking Barbie after Barbie on Hors
The other Males sour; Then prune once again
Thinking them robbed from the Best Picks before
See, how your Rome enamourates the World
And letting this pour like an Endless Fall
Splashing on Flesh, to Cologne turning swirl
Eau et de la Belle, who boasts you and all.
Seeing this Promo, this Six-Pack so thin
Still did not respond to your Great Tan Skin.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 3:48 AM UTC
Which of your Favourites you take to Trust
And hoping One of them will fill your Void
So Alone, though in Many you Adjust
Though their trifle pertinence you carry
Those Nerds ahead just consider you Strange
Yet Groupies counteract with their own Praise
Now who is Correct? They sit at the Lounge
Then settle to offer your own Fresh Space
That around your College are Ideals formed
When Some in Prayer may publish their Book
Took you as a Model; And Critics scorned
See their Used Lives in a Better Outlook.
You just have to Smile; And Happy you did
Fan their Frustrations of that Love you hid.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
Let the Dealer take to his Gambles spend
Such that his Boots would limit to arcade
Which two-fold bets cast odds on top descend
And his Service strikes without much delay
I meant the Italian you happened to wear
And strip for Happy Golgotha delight
You wanted Admirers in Cheerful bear
Then their Smiles came true for their ****** Sight
After all, Talk Show's a Norm-for-the-Woos
Which indeed supplements the Popular
Which you desired; And asked you turn loose
To be one of those Studs Spectacular.
Happy for you. Since your own Flesh at stake
As you are now Ripe; Your Best Rind you make.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 3:01 AM UTC
Sweet Tea wrote 3 months after I turned 15, 2018
Before you, I was a girl devastated by things I couldn’t change
Trapped in an endless bitter reality from which there was no escape
Sinking into a dark, spiraling well, from which I reached my hands and found a pool of light
You were my light, a haloed sunshine angel, who graced me with his presence for what seemed so long and ended so abruptly
The sound of your voice seemed to be honey, so sweet, attracting the bees, attracting me
My sunshine sweetheart, angel lover You’ve done your time so now you can leave
Why would you want to stay with me? I’m only a cement brick that will bring you down
A loose thread that will tear you down, a yammering parakeet who will wear you down
One time you told me that I thought too highly of you
How couldn’t I? With someone who made me feel so confident with my body, somebody who praised me, someone who thought I was worth their time at least for the time being
In a way it’s better that you left, you’ll never be forced to see what I had to see looking in the mirror hating every inch of myself, hating the way I acted, and the way I interacted with everyone and hating the way no one seemed to like me
But you liked me, but it’s better this way because I’m a letdown
It’s Like when you thought you had bought sweet tea
But it’s actually unsweetened
The new version
Sweet Tea wrote 1 month before my 18 birthday, 2021
Before you, I was a girl alone
Being molested every day by the people who said they would take care of me
I was a fourteen-year-old girl who was taught at a young age to get yourself a man to save you
So I tried everything to keep you because talking to you distracted me from the fact my fourty-year-old stepdad was touching me
But what I definitely didn’t need was a twenty-year-old man messaging me
Telling me all the things he wanted to do to me
When the law would finally unclaim me and allow me to give someone a part of me he doesn’t deserve
You made me feel so much more alone
Somebody who told me he’d touch me
But instead of giving me what I’ll need he’ll leave
“Lick me up like an ice cream cone” huh Luke?
yes I thought highly of you
Because you made it seem like you’d never hurt me
You were the biggest disappointment
You always will be
Jan 12, 2021
Jan 12, 2021 at 2:36 PM UTC
Why pucker the Doll which does not puck back
Was what they told me through the Window Pane
A-thinks they see Clear, keen on what they Lack
The Gauntlet needed to smash such Glass again
That dare you cut your Friend's supposed Line
Just because he saw the Animals play
They are only Plastic; And Air inside
A Harmless Chapter your Youth needs today
Do you think I will Sing? And rend your Shame,
Whose Salary you know I won't enjoy
Good Lord, Man! Why must you label my Name
Like those Land Sharks who bite you out of Joy?
What do you need to tie the Ribbon Blue
That is your Colour; That should have been you.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 3:45 AM UTC
I only know how to love you
in ways that hurt, that feel
like scraped knees and
dropp
i
n
g
skittles on the floor,
stubbed toes,
****** nose,
chest x-ray
came back negative
because I gave everything that
was in there to you so they had
nothing to see in the doctor's
office. My heart was never
really mine to have, anyway.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 10:37 PM UTC
Mum, was the Messenger real when I heard
He agreed to Deal after the Event
His Five-Rings Birthday made Flesh of the Word
Jab Stings to his Leather; A Totem forms then?
Which, in Real Cosmetic, itself no harm
If rely on his Throne responsible
He has a Deaf History; A Long-Since Charm
And every Girl he knew is Commendable
This is your SON. Your Mirror's Primal Truth
And no way my Purchase must interfere
Dad did his Job to keep Tradition's Youth
So the Choice lies on the Good that is here.
Thus the Paper was signed, out goes the call
Enter Twenty Years. His Mark shows it all.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 3:03 AM UTC
What used to be a rewarding escape
is now fourty eight tedious hours
filled with self-hatred and regret.
Saturday nights spent isolated, wide awake
wishing we had never met.
Reminiscing about challenging weeks gone by
followed by feelings of failure,
thoughts of insignificance
while I begin to silently cry
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 7:58 PM UTC
So, after reading this Programme with her
And felt the Blood up-river past your brain
She was Smiling. And thus I beg-confirm
How to abdicate this Throneful Pain
Do Tears from your Fans ever sensate you
Even when their Pillars support your Fare
Bitter Notes will tweet; And Pretty Souls too
Just how you Falter these Dictions beware
She was Brave enough to post the Same Event
At Risk to debit their Frustrated Fears
Brother and Sister: Most live Excuse meant
A Funny Welcome to whom they Revere.
Please. This isn't the first Turtle Reflex
Of Four-Digits-Two minus Year-of-Six.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 3:41 AM UTC
I live in this fantasy world,
you see.
An imaginary time of lent,
in my total control.
One where instead of giving up sugar,
and sweets,
I am able to give up my emotions,
all of them.
I need to forget what it was like to
be happy.
I need to learn how to be angry with you,
not yearnful.
I need to psyche myself into believing...
this feelings ends.
If only for fourty days and fourty nights,
I'd give my love for you up in a heartbeat.
If only you were like my appendix,
then I could tear you out and somehow live.
But I'm left with you as a literal piece of my heart,
I bleed slowly everyday we aren't together.
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 2:57 AM UTC
I noticed the System on how we relate
For every Plus a Minus you return
Yet this Gnawing Event nailed to your Gate
Were your Foe's Doomed Plagues; Yet left me unspurned
Which made me wonder why you chose to mum
Yet for this Announcer a spite you blew
Why? Was it to boost your Public Aplomb
And cheat your way with the people you knew?
Like your First Partner. Whose Rabbit Remark
Asked for Improvements whilst stuck on his phone
Then came Black Letters asking for his bark
When all he did was to leave you alone.
Diver! Enough with your Cosmic Abuse
Don't wait for the Witch to cast her Spell loose.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:49 AM UTC
I’ve made my decision.
I’m running away from what’s inside my head.
Shutting down and getting by doesn’t seem to be enough
but if I close off and just be numb,
what would I become?
This is something I can not overcome.
So this is it, I quit.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 6:22 PM UTC
clicking teeth
rattling breath
veins too small and cramped lungs
spindly ribs and spiderweb lips
you wake up
sunshine on your face
lazy smile lazy voice eyes squinted
why can't I be happy like you?
you taste like ozone and i have traced the knots on your ankles
and the hole in your chest
for hours
revising calculations
compiling a chart
mapping your unknown spaces to find the real distance from you to me
not in the light years from your mouth to mine
but thoughts
memories
four thousand six hundred fourty four instances without me
that void is infinite
your mouth is full of flies
your brain is a quasar with no light on the horizon
there is nothing left of you but bones
and a nest of veins and arteries with your heart stuck in the center like an egg
your wings are melting
you've flown too close to the sun again
wax tattoos you poppy red in drip
drip
drips
how could i forget you?
your parabolas
your rosy cheeks
and the weight of you
how could i forget?
you have no solution
(i could help you find one)
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 9:55 PM UTC
One morning, Howard was deciding what he was going to cook for today's lunch. Howard was not the worlds best cook, he mainly enjoyed buying ready meals to eat, Fishermans Pie was his dearest. But today was to be different; a change; he would make something from scratch. He decided that Carbonara met his fancy, so he got up from his wearing sofa, and made his way to the half filled book cabinet. 'How to make Pasta', the book read. It was a result for Howard. He clinched his hands on the closed book, and bought it into the front room.Howard opened the book to the contents and turned to page 21, 'Carbonara Chicken Special'. Howard firstly read the ingrediants needed, then popped to the local convinience store to fetch the things he needed. When he eventually started the meal, he was on task and ready to go. So he prepared the sauce, and the pasta, and the chicken. Then put it in the oven, a fourty-five minute wait.Howard was knackered by this time and thought he'd have a quick lye down..."BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP"!!!!!!!!!!!!! This incredibly loud noise was coming from the smoke alarm, startaling Howard! He rushed to the kitchen to discover masses of smoke dominating the room. Howard glanced up at the the clock to discover that he had been sleeping for over an hour. The pasta was ruined and had to be thrown away.Howard was starving though. So he went over to the freezer, grabbed a microwave fishermans pie, and heated it up. As he sat down to eat the meal, he thought to himself; ' Well I gave it a go, one step closer eh'. Then digged into his seafood.
Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 4:37 AM UTC
George HW Bush has left the room
For the last time we salute his duty
Save be it the last image of his bloom
The red, white and blue his beauty
Stars and stripes live on forever
In our heartbeats his wonderful space
We honor his service and endeavour
For preserving our country's better place
From dedicated soldier to president
His passion for his country took flight
For he was always there ... a present
In fighting for his country to shine bright
Now his mission over leaves us blessed
The fourty first link's mettle was impressed
Logan Robertson
12/05/2018
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 3:30 PM UTC
My dear, it was a moment
to clutch for a moment
so that you may believe in it
and believing is the act of love, I think,
even in the telling, wherever it went.
In the false New England forest
where the misplanted Norwegian trees
refused to root, their thick synthetic
roots barging out of the dirt to work on the air,
we held hands and walked on our knees.
Actually, there was no one there.
For fourty years this experimental
woodland grew, shaft by shaft in perfect rows
where its stub branches held and its spokes fell.
It was a place of parallel trees, their lives
filed out in exile where we walked too alien to know
our sameness and how our sameness survives.
Outside of us the village cars followed
the white line we had carefully walked
two nights before toward our single beds.
We lay halfway up an ugly hill and if we fell
it was here in the woods where the woods were caught
in their dying and you held me well.
And now I must dream the forest whole
and your sweet hands, not once as frozen
as those stopped trees, nor ruled, nor pale,
nor leaving mine. Today in my house, I see
our house, its pillars a dim basement of men
holding up their foreign ground for you and me.
My dear, it was a time,
butchered from time
that we must tell of quickly
before we lose the sound of our own
mouths calling mine, mine, mine.
1.6k
You think your parents are invincible
Your father your knight and shining armor
Your mother an untouchable saint
Providing, protecting, and loving you all unconditionally
But one chest pain brings a surreal reality
And you watch your fragile father lie on the hospital bed, crying
And you see your mother fighting back tears, trying to be the strong one
Your invincible parents now crumbling in front of you
Shaken and terror stricken, tears flood your eyes
You don't ever think your dad, the one who wiped your tears when you had a bad break up
Could be so fragile
He is supposed to be the big tough guy who is invincible
Not the one to get a heart attack at fourty three
Lucky, they said, your dad is lucky he survived.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC
Father. Mine and Yours. Both Oil Lamps at zest
Managed to hone our Characters throughout
Mine the Prime Wisdom; Yours his Water's Best
Both total Great Hearts we can't live without
So why do we Fight? If Reason betrays
And later picks our Spoils scattered by War
And who gets Hurt? Those caught between the Leys
Where supposed Joy must settle by far
Yes I am aware you find it Funny
To exploit your Gift and choose to Ignore
Is that your Model? Where your Harmony
Took some Chopsticks and plucked out those who bore.
Remember him again. And read his Lines
On Words which matter; And Self you define.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:54 AM UTC