"fricken" poems
I want to be your abacus baby,Oh you can count on me.
I wont say that i love you, or i heart you, I less than 3 you.
Your molecules must be moving fast,girl. Cause your really hot.
Are you igneous sedimentary or metamorphic? All i know is baby you rock.
And if god existed I'd thank him for you, but I'm rational and read a lot of Sam Harris.
Your beautiful like the font garamad,but i want to see you sandarac, take your pants off.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me,
And i observe your quirks oscillating, and I'm formulating, a g-string theory..
Like an archeologist,I'm gonna try and compute your age. cause i really want to date you.
You make me feel like a male giraffe. I want to nudge your **** and make you urinate,and mate you.
Scientific fact,thats what they do.
The value of my love for you cannot be expressed exactly. More rational then Pi.
Hey **** is a legitimate word in scrabble, just FYI
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me.
You can **** me into your super massive black hole, the center of your galaxy. Im talkin ******
I may not be the strongest or the prettiest, but my knowledge of grammar shines.
I know how to use the words further and farther..correctly. Every fricken time.
Example:farther indicates physical distance
and further a depth or degree
example: the moon is getting farther from the earth
about 4 centimeters annually. Fun factoid,take it home with ya.
You just keep getting further into my heart.
You just keep getting farther into my heart.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me,and if the situation is ambiguous, further and farther can be used interchangeably. Just a fun factoid.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me.
Baby i less than 3 you.
So please take off your pants.
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 7:14 PM UTC
It's that time of the Patriot's year
Postseason playoff games are in full gear
The road to the Superbowl, I cheer
But not for the big, bad grissly bear
That takes every opponent's fate without fear
That's right the big bad bear without peer
I'm snickering the Patriot's to cry a tear
Nothing would make me so happier, I swear
Fricken, dicken, bitchen Patriots beware
To see another Bostonian tea party, I glare
I do show respect at the Patriot's lair
Brady and Belicheck what a podded pair
Steady, stoic and simulcast, condescending I declare
You see a Patriots playoff loss is so rare
Their team profile is beyond compare
A well oiled machine that wear
Goliath close over David with regular fare
The road to this year's Superbowl Sunday, I say a prayer
That the other teams flag is flying patriotically in the air
Logan Robertson
1/11/2019
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 5:05 AM UTC
Nothing is certain anymore.
I used to know: I miss knowing.
I had decided he was the one.
Forever. For ever. Everlong. Everlast.
But it wasn’t everlasting.
And now?
I’ve lost the partner to my dream.
Begin again. Start once more. All over.
New introductions: new dynamics
It’s all different.
Unsettling.
Exciting – I’m thrown off balance.
Soo much to learn.
What’s beneath the ripply surface?
Open up, prise to sunlight; I must see.
Figure: are you the new ‘one’?
A replacement?
A new dream. A new adventure.
A thousand ways to see the world.
Perspective dominates so much.
I think we come from similar mind
- But unless you speak I cannot be certain.
“What’re you thinking?”
“Mmm… I don’t know”
It’s a gap
Between thought and mouth
- I’ve been there, I’ve felt it.
We need to build a bridge.
‘Put your trust in me, I’m not gonna die alone’
I don’t want to. Not alone.
I need someone to accompany me.
I want a family.
Who?
It feels like time to settle in.
Who?
I’m tired of this game
This uncertainty
Either let me be alone
- Impossible for me, I know:
I ***** too much up when I’m single.
Yet there should be growth there.
- Then let me be with the one.
I know there is no perfection.
But imperfections may compliment.
I know it takes work.
Communication.
Sacrifice.
Energy.
Time.
I know difference must be respected.
I know connection is of most importance
- Or perhaps a close second to support.
And love.
But love grows.
Even arranged marriages fall into love.
Why not choose?
The one with the traits
The dynamic that is desired
Love will come
It always does in the end
So long as resentment does not dominate
The dynamic is soo important!
And the lifestyle
- What am I willing to give up?
What does he desire?
I’m over this dizzying romance game.
I’m throwing the towel in.
If not him, then someone else close by.
Because I’ve always had too many options.
And before that made me scared:
Given urge to ‘play the field’
Taste all within range.
Now, now, I am tired.
It’s nice to know someone’s intimacy
Exploring beneath the cloak:
Let me in, let me in, let me in.
I know it takes time
Let me in, let me in, let me in.
But trust me. Please?
Let me in, let me in, let me in.
Coz ****** I’m letting you in.
And ****** I want to show you my world.
And to see yours.
And when we escape this place,
Maybe just for a day or two,
But when we do,
It’s fricken beautiful
And we’re beautiful
And I know that.
Please. I want to fall into love.
Why not with him?
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
You did inquire why all of my poetry is depressing, or morbid... or sarcastic.
I wish I was ~positively~ poetic, but my positive feelings channeled through prose!
I have some neat journal pages... inspiring or thoughtful
-I guess...
But when I look back at the days of pages I wrote in my paranoia or depression.. spite... it's just really horrible! It don't like remembering how sick I got myself over things. And I've always admired poetry.. and I remember the first poems I read from you were more morbid and dark. So I followed suit.... and I like looking back at these poems, more artfully worded and less angst ridden... much more than those journal pages.
I have been inspired to write more light hearted poems that are NOT sarcastic, but those are all drafts and I just don't know how to do about things and they just sit there and never get finished. No, those poems about friends leaving me behind, school being really fricken freezing, and mom sounded like a raspy parrot are the only ones that seem to get finished.
I'll work on putting something light together for you... rather or not it gets finished it up in the air though haha. I love you a lot!
xoxo
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 9:07 PM UTC
This is not a rhyme
this is not a poem
there is no hidden messages between ambiguous word
or conveyed through complex metaphors
this is the tears of my heart
bleeding
fuelling me
so that I can find the courage to speak
to speak the words of my soul
the words I've been dying to say
... no
to scream!!!
The words I've been dying to shout out
as a proclamation to the whole world...
I DON'T LOVE YOU
I DON'T because I don't know what love is
but I do know you make me wonder
you make me philosophize about it
about what it feels like
I DON'T know what love is...
but you make me feel
something that must be close to it
...
if not better
I think about you ALL the time...
there is not a moment that passes where I don't think of you...
not a single message from you at which I don't smile
not a single night where I hate the dawn of sleep, because it means goodbye
ALL OF MY FRICKEN POEMS ARE ABOUT YOU
last night when you were here...
in the three seconds that we kissed
in those mere blinks of an eye
when our lips softly brushed
... I was paralysed
... It was the first time in my life where my mind was COMPLETELY quiet
the first time I didn't instruct myself through a kiss
and just let go...
now your scent is stuck to me...
I smell it all the time
the smell is intoxicating
and I think of you with every breath I take
unwillingly falling further and further into your arms...
and so I call you...
just to hear your voice...
just to hear you laugh at what I say...
because hearing your voice makes my day...
the sound of your laughter...
it's a toe curling
goosebump-giving
heart-wrenching
pulse-rising
start-smiling
start-crying
but never nail baiting...
because I know you hate that
... sort of sound.
and I envy the guy who is lucky enough to have you
I envy him with all my heart.
I have a bitterness towards him compared by only few...
and a sadness towards you compared to no other greatness...
why can't you see
that his love for you is not...
nor will it ever be...
the same as my NOT-LOVE for you
can't you see he doesn't give you the romance and the happiness you deserve
the laughter and the acceptance and the complete free will...
can't you see that I adore you
... so much so that I have turned into this monster who envies...
one who feels bitter towards someone he has never met!!!
I am lost without you...
I want you...
I need you...
I want to need you...
I Better-than-love you
I xoxo you and mwa you
forever and continuous
(not-)love (- but better)
me...
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 6:12 PM UTC
I can't dream if it's from this closet
Every thing I want to do just sounds so god **** pompous
I talk about what I want to do and everybody thinks I've lost it
I'm on the radar, but I'm the darkest blip
Walking the plank on purpose, S.S. **** you, I'm off this ship
I feel like I've finally got it, and of course then I've lost it
I write a masterpiece, "hey where's the follow up?"
Like me and my girl jinxin the future with a prenup
'Oh you know we just trying to be safe,' right ***** let's marry up this **** then
You can take it all just split them assets
Get me bent with no price or rent
See I ain't tryna get around just tryna win this
Can't seem to get to the top when I'm the only one in the bracket
Try to be a team player, but my teams full of *******
I'm Harry Potter ***** imma smash that *** like quidditch
I gonna hit that pinata, till the cash flow get me riches
I talk ***** but I miss the way you talk
British, you a fit birdy, girl
I eat my grits, but I ain't really eating till after we're flirty, girl
Take you to the back room, pour some wine and then some feelings, watch some mad men and tell you bout my last girl
I said I like the way you talk to me but I think I just like how I can talk to you
You're an outlet, and I'm plugging, your sticking around, but you should know I'm just thuggin
And maybe I just say the ***** things I say to mask my potential under promiscuity cause I got a real problem promising myself I'll solve my problems too
(I'd never admit it though)
See that's just something me and my crew do
I guess it masks all the little ***** blues 'fake cries'
During this poem I think I grew three inches for you
In my heart
See it's so easy to gravitate to you like your the sun and I'm Mercury, I'm too close and you're burning me alive, but I can't pull myself apart, girl it'll never work
We can't stop Miley, that's melancholy for sure (but keep the twerk)
You make me feel like Frank Sinatra, and I can't even sing
So **** confident, you let me discover myself, I'm deep, I can feel, I'm Mike Tyson, Kung Pao chicken, I bring it all to the ring
All these little kids on the streets learning how to *** from me 'like fricken'
The thought of you got me sick to the stomach, it's sticking
..
Too bad you're just a god **** fling
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
I would be a better god
than this god
I can rule her out completely
were I your god
I would not rest
even on her Sunday roasts, "no fricken way"
there would be no commandments
no sacrifice of your children
no denial of self
no crusades of hatred
no hypocrisy
no eternal damnation
So for the love of god
dethrone this tyrant
free yourselves you ******* idots
I am your man dogg, not her
or ******* Her, or whoever THE **** was ******* her...!
Meh!
As you can see I'm passionate about this
and I don't mince my meat sometimes
but **** we're all sick it
********
Let me be your crutch in hard times
but be stronger quick,
cause I got better **** to be doing
Thanks for your vote
and hey girls
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 6:32 AM UTC
This morning I told myself,
I will write a poem today,
But I ended up just hanging out,
With my friend named procrastinate.
8:30am
I was awakened,
Rolled over and saw my notes,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.
10:00am
Lounging around,
It’s my lazy day,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.
11:30am
Just finished showering,
Poetic thoughts ran through my mind,
While the water ran through my hair,
But now that I’m out,
I’m busy,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.
12:30pm
My dad made me listen,
To a sermon with him,
I almost wanted to write a poem,
But I was preoccupied with Dr. Thompson,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.
1:45pm
Money feels good in my hands,
But first I gotta do all this addition,
Time cards ****
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.
3:00pm
I haven’t eaten anything today,
I’m starving,
Maybe because my refrigerator is empty,
I haven’t gone shopping in four weeks,
I should pay the grocery store a visit,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.
5:45pm
Tacos sound good,
I have no clue how to make them,
But I guess I’ll give it a shot,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.
6:45pm
Dang, that tasted awesome,
I should probably make something
Gross so I don’t let these cooking skills
Get to my head,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.
7:00pm
It feels so good to sit down,
My new favorite show, Falling skies,
Is awaiting me on amazon prime,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.
11:00pm
Four episodes in,
I’m officially addicted,
But I’ll let my brother use the TV now,
While I pass out on the couch,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.
11:15pm
Crap…
I was gonna write a poem today,
What the heck am I supposed to write about?
Nothing serious is on my mind,
Depression, abuse, peace and war?
The only peace I’m thinking about is sleep,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.
11:17pm
I guess I’ll let my eyes open,
It might be time to write a poem,
Not sure what to write about,
I could write about writing a poem or whatever,
Poetry,
Yeah, maybe now.
11:30pm
I’m done,
Here’s your fricken poem, Matthew,
Can I go to bed now?
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 7:06 AM UTC
THE SUN USE TO BURN BRIGHT
SEEPING IN ITS GLORIOUS LIGHT
SHINING ALL DAY LONG
HUMMING IT'S BEAUTIFUL MORNING SONG
BUT THEN ONE DAY
THE SUN DECIDED TO STAY AWAY
THE DARK AND GLOOM
FILLING THE NOW EMPTY ROOM
MY SADNESS SHOWED UP THEN
AND CONTINUING TO COME BACK AGAIN
I MISSED MY SUN
WISHING FOR HAPPINESS OR FUN
MY HEART WHEN SAD
AND NOW I FEEL REALLY FRICKEN' BAD...
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
I wish I could just pick up the phone and text you now and again,
call you even just maybe once in a while.
Instead of just seeing your face from a distance again and again, or hearing little specks of your voice talking to someone else.
It’s **** I feel ****
Hearing the stories with your name written in them make me feel useless, like I’m just there, far away into the background that I’m not even a character.
The words you say, I see on someone else’s screen, and my name mentioned once and never again. Why do I feel this way so strongly, so depressing, and yet... so used to the treatment.
By family and friends, my own fricken mates don’t acknowledge my existence when they make those plans for the weekend, my parents not knowing who I am because I’m not noticeable like the others
I wish I wasn’t this way. This way that I am used to being, this way I am used to feeling. Like **** every-fucking-day
Do I mean anything to those around me truly?! Deep down maybe but not straight away, and thats a selfish remark for me to make and I shouldn’t even think of saying such a thing, but I just did, and I’m not erasing it from the screen.
Deep down I’m still hurting but no one see’s because I hide it behind, laughter, sarcasm and dark humour to shield my walls that I let fall. Deep down I just want to be held again, in arms that make me feel safe, to be kissed in a way that makes me feel special, and have my hands played with and my skin traced just because.
But I’m too quiet to ask for help.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 4:00 AM UTC
I felt so sad as I took a jar of paper stars from the top shelf of my school locker and held it close to my chest as I walked down the halls and I knew you were watching... Arden.
You just didn't do anything.
You knew what it was like to cling to life the same way you hung from death, like it was some kind of sick game. However, this is not a one player kind of match now, is it?
I powerwalked through the halls once, wanting so much to die. I had no plans, just a few ideas. You know, I didn't consider hanging myself in my mind to be a "plan to die" because I didn't actually write out the plans, I just thought about them a little too much.
I answered "No." when asked if I made plans to **** myself, because in my mind, I really didn't make plans.
When asked if I was homicidal, I don't remember what I said, but I remember not saying "no". I remember that I've imagined punishing people, but never killing people. I want to hold their lives in my grasp and hear them apologize like they actually mean it.
But I am too nice for that. Too Christian for that.
It takes a strong person to lift weights, but a stronger one to lift the personal weight off your own back.
I've thought about retiring my poetry career 10 years too early, not even making it to my mid-twenties before quitting simply because there were too many people too eager to get offended at my work.
I will not play innocent to your sickly made games.
I am no fool.
Although, I will not retire my poetry career just yet. Because every time I feel the urge to quit, I am here at 3:22am writing long strings of poetry.
Arden's gonna have a fricken sleeve of tattoos.
Alex is gonna have pain.
Baer is gonna have me taking care of her sister.
But who really cares about that? Because Arden's gonna have something.
Arden has friends,
education,
teachers,
a job,
a life.
Arden's gonna have love.
Arden's gonna have fuckin' love.
Alex is not going to beg for my jaw unhinged from all the fighting.
Alex will not bend.
No sir.
Baer has hired me as the worlds worst babysitter, and her sister, only a few years younger than I already holds me to a higher standard than most.
But Arden has more to life than me.
There's no comparison.
I too, want to die when I'm not staying up this late to escape my thanatophobia.
I will not live to see Arden's graduation.
But I will live to see the hurricane that comes after it.
I don't feel special Baer.
But no one really needs to know that.
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 4:39 AM UTC
I cannot stop crying to say my life.
It's like it's on a schedule.
Crying in school, after school, in my car, at home, to my parents, to my teachers, to no one at all. For sometimes... hours.
I have officially become so broken that I've become pathetic. So I don't know. I'm a wreck. I cannot even think about this without hating myself, and I can't talk about it without crying.
I'm a broken fricken record about this story. Saying it over and over.
Apologizing over, and over, and OVER.
I am so sick of it. I do not want this, but I can't escape it. As much as I may want to, I can't. It is so easy to write about the bad.
I can't remember one good thing last said by someone important.
But I have a million good things to say about them. I always will.
And you're the one who's sorry?
Not as sorry as I am.
I don't want to be told to "get over it" as if it was ever that easy.
And I hate this. I really do. There is nothing left here. So I guess you were right about me being nothing more than my mistakes. I hope you take pride in being right. Because I am barely hanging on.
And you decided to walk away.
That's okay.
After all, this is the real me right? I've secretly always been this monster. I'm nothing more than you say.
So tell me what I am.
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 7:44 PM UTC
"I am one tiny fish
in this giant pond-the ocean"
Oscar from Shark Tale
The world is huge if you think about it
I am one person among about 6,893,300,000 other people
How can I be heard?
What do I have to do to be noticed?
I want to make a difference
but there is so many fricken people
I HAVE to get their attention
I HAVE to help them out
But I am like a tiny fish in this HUGE pond
I've got to swim to the top.
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 12:42 PM UTC
Too tired to stay awake. Too scared to go to sleep.
I close my eyes
And the nightmares creep
They shadow over every wall
They jump and shout
They whisper and crawl
I try to keep from letting them win
These nightmares are only my thought deep within
So I listen to music to block it all out
but it won't fricken work they're just way too loud
And then the tears begin to fall down
As I stare at this screen because I daren't look around
I sit there a rock backwards and fourth
Backwards and fourth
I sit there and rock backward and fourth
Until I wake up in the morning's light
And this thing hasen't happened just one or twice
Why do you think that i'm up at this time?
Do you think I just deprive myself of sleep?
Do you think I'd lie about all these things?
Do you think that I'd make you read these words?
If all that it were was a way to be heard?
No.
Since the seventh of Feb 200 and now
I haven't slept without freaking out
can't properly sleep because I see his face
and when I do it scares me for days
I see him so cold lied there all alone
And no one can help him or bring him back home
There's just so much
That I will always regret
And there's so much more that I should have said
I wish I could change it go back and be there
Dad
I'm sorry
I should have been there
I should have seen the signs
I should kept you from losing your mind
I should have known
If I had known
I could have helped
I could have saved youur life
Saved you from all of that unfairness and strife
NO one should have to deal with that
especially someone as amazing as you
Dad
I miss you.
I don't know what to do.
Please tell me what to do?
Dad I don't have a clue.
They say I will move on with my life
But you're my hero
my king
my everything
I will always need you
I will always need you back
I just can't seem to chose the right path
To go down anymore
I need my daddy back
To help me live, to help my heart heal and soar.
So come back.
Please.
Come back.
Dad.
Withought you.
I can't
Sleep.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
Tell me.
Tell me what amazing thing I'm doing right now.
I'm going through the fricken motions of next to every 16 year old girl.
I have done nothing spectacular.
I haven't changed anything.
Had I not been born others' lives would be minimally altered.
Why am I not doing anything?
Nothing. I'm doing nothing for anyone or anything.
I'm making no impression and that makes me angry.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 12:57 AM UTC
Dear friend I wish to speak
of memories of which I keep.
Both in my heart and in my soul
You know that heart? The one you stole?
I treasure all them days we had
to see you leave it made me sad.
But when we do talk on the phone
I feel less, and less alone.
You made me climb out of my shell
you helped me rid a living hell.
Not sure if you knew but I lived in the rain
until one day like an angel you came.
I'd met someone different
someone like me.
I use to get bullied
for who I wanted to be.
So I kept it all quiet because I cared what they said
but after a while I put those thoughts to bed.
And now that you're gone it's just like the past
I sit, my head down, at the back of the class.
But I learnt so much stuff that will always remain
and i'm sure that one day it will come back again.
So I write you this poem, a letter from me
to thank you for setting me eternaly free.
And although you live far our now friendship won't end
I'm so fricken greatful that you're my best-friend!<3
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC
Baddie brains blown out hick-up pick up picky pick up lines hirried stubbling drained from the gum. Yes tis gum from the stuomuch that you swallowed for month because I just loved the way you ***** *** I'm sick.
I puked.
I puked?
I started runnning the walts of Conan the quenched dominator beefing with minny mouse for spanking mickey. He sipps mickeys just so you know I'm holy dust, sike. I wish I washed my mouth month before I ate the groomed flappy fingered fizzathered lips of Haley Jade. I wish I had a ****** **** Nut after nut and after this nut another nut and a nut a then the knux cause she got the **** crumbling runs rinse me in Faygo cause these Jugglalos have hair I love to get the stow in jars from a far, because I farted. Beanie I ******* farting who started this ******** fricken flame flare Jack Keoroac couldn't spit enough spirts to-at-alley trickling pink pavement funds that freed Zepplin.
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 4:49 PM UTC
Totally girlfriend...
My life is nothing but a spin...
A freskin whirl wind...
With a wind try na break down my fricken bricks g....
I mean and it truly has...
My wall is not perfect...
It's got holes and tough edges...and for a while I have and ma in denial of my marks
,my scars....
But without those mistakes...where is there room to truly grow...
You see each and every wound is a piece of me being destroyed...
But it is a wound right...it heals
...and Imperfctness is perfect
Because my Lord still loves me and doesn't expect that of me or any of us
...therefore I will accept my holes n flaws
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
You make me feel sad.
To the point where I'm only getting mad.
But you seem so glad
And don't feel bad
Not even a fricken tad.
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 9:44 PM UTC
Pooh bears ass-cheecks are clogged and he's looking for honey. It's otay, lemonglade. I ice skatelike diamond rangs and live with tigger and he freaks me fruit. It's otay, I'm geeky and love Pokemon and Yu-gi-oh pour my Po Bo I'm fricken Asian hi. I like the way your a dumb **** This is garage band garbage I push through my viens in this cage I waste for Jake when he aims to be tied-up. I wonder why Pooh smells like **** For fruitful 21Savage ***** **** like other Ellen fans. It's otay, I got charmon for me ***** till. I paid from my left pocket the right one hanging, chicken wings falling from the right ai-ight. Out of sike.
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 5:24 PM UTC
I just realized
I have 99 followers!
That means that 99 wonderful people
On this wonderful cite
Have decided they like my poetry enough
To have it show up on their page
Whenever I post!
That’s fricken awesome!
99 friends.
I love you all my beautiful and valid and amazing friends!!!
Sep 26, 2019
Sep 26, 2019 at 6:40 PM UTC