"frigged" poems
A monotone voice says no school today
Followed by a hazy sleepy stumble,
Back to sleep right away
Warm sheets embrace me and
Lull back the dreams,
I get comfortable
Allowing for blankets to surround my form
Hold me close,
As no one else can...
No longer the frigged winter but on a beach far far away
The day comes to its end and the sky begins to blush
As the sun kisses her cheek, goodnight
Sand in my toes a lofty breeze in my hair
What more perfect a moment than being free in the summer air?
My subconscious ponders
My heart begins to sting
I am alone.
And so I emerge from my slumber,
For the boy of my dreams cannot be found when I'm asleep.
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
It was a hot summer day and freshly hatched flies
darkened your massive window bay.
Inside your decaying bloated carcass
millions of larvae are eating your flesh
they are eating you slowly away.
Your room had such a rancid stench
The New London Day gave it away
how long you laid all alone on the floor
four days old it was on your piano bench
out your body bag I saw a single fly take flight
in the embalming room that only leads to a big fight.
Rule is, turn out all the lights and open the door
Because they will then take to the air and bother you no more.
For a perfect viewing you must be purged of your infestation.
Step One, hook your nostril to a rubber hose,
Step Two, turn up the pressure so the water flows,
Step Three, push on your chest to break up there home, I call it their nest,
Step Four, Watch them all swim for their life as they exit out the other side of your nose.
I have a fetish for death I need to touch with my bare hand
slowly combing your hair with my fingers strand by strand.
I take out my Sterling Silver Mirror and then place it upon your frigged lips
and then I have to then put on a plastic frown when I see no BREATH!!!!
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 1:08 PM UTC
Why forget the face of bright sunshine,
Whom's smile melts ones frigged heart,
Whom's eyes are the color of a Hershey's sweet,
Why I look away?
Because, one glace at you knocks me off my feet,
Not a day passes that I don't think of you,
Oh how I long to prove my feelings so true,
Never shall I think twice about winning your heart,
Because,
Living without you tears me apart,
How I long to hear your voice once again,
How soft are your words,
How quiet is your voice,
How I long for your gentle touch,
If only I had control over what I do and say,
If only my tongue would preach,
My feelings so deep,
If only you were mine to keep.
Feb 15, 2019
Feb 15, 2019 at 11:46 AM UTC
Gwuts on gwanilliagax
Ready hot gwip
Trill on the vibrant note gabeeboh
What a thril it is to be in nice gazeebo
What a punk that doused on the free zobe
What punctillious panagax that frigged all the wets out
And when the trip to the sausage make didnt pull down alaz
Alaz, I am the wet tug.
Alaz, the sprig of wheat ***** taint.
Didn't you say you loved me?
Well, the bruts on the wagon sauce now
Didn't me have a big one, tug one, sauce one?
Well elemayo gwit gwits gwit gwits gwit gwit.....gwit
Embryo collecting on the branch of a saggy
My baggy be ripped, dripped all the can out
Me step on a puddle, the wet one, the biggy
My pets on the leg, rub, all on it sticky, how ******
He chugs out a wet belch and creams on the gricky
How quaint is his fat bristle comb, of his **** I am assured
This great honkulous tank sub that brits on my dimbo,in limbo my ship
It greats on the grates treat me to a sub snack ship ***** ***** factory get e
Tag me on your webpage, then **** me silly
Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 11:01 PM UTC
**** MY FIST COPYRIGHT 2011 DAVID EHRGOTT
Lucy Lucy What have you done
******* a kid
well it ain't no fun
Bashing and gashing
covering him
My right forearm hurts like sin
Lucy Lucy Kiss me kiss
Match the left one by doing this
Just
**** My Fist
**** My Fist
Yeah
**** My Fist
**** My Fist
Lucy Lucy ******* me blue
Here is all that she did do
Slapped me around; Put me through walls
That ************* Lucille Ball
So
**** my Fist
Yeah
**** My Fist
just
**** My Fist
**** My Fist
**** My Fist
**** My Fist
**** my Fist
**** My Fist
Tuesday Weld was not a Ball
She frigged herself and that was all
But Lucy had a *** playpen
For children around the age of ten
so
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
Surviving this is not a bliss
and my arm, it hurts like ****
I raise it up to tell the world
That Lucille Ball was my first girl that
****** MY FIST YEAH SHE
****** MY FIST
****** MY FIST YEAH SHE
****** MY FIST
SO
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
JUST **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT
SAID **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT
JUST **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT
SAID **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT
Little boys of only ten
Should not be used like that again
But you know Hollywood and them
I'll save the world and tell them just to
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
Lucy did it why don't you just
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
Hollywood Hollywood just kiss this
I've really had enough of your **** so
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST...
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 6:26 PM UTC
Tuesday Weld was a frigger
She was friggin' everywhere and
Everywhere she went, she frigged
As a matter of fact
There wasn't a day that went by
In which Tuesday wouldn't frig
She frigged at the supermarket
She would frig at the mall
She frigged at the movies
She frigged at the gas-pump
She was caught frigging at the dentist
She even frigged down the shore
All her twenty-seven siblings
Worked the local house of ill-repute
It had a bar inside of it
And was Whorethorne's best kept secret
Even the police would get laid there (on Tuesdays)
Finally, the townspeople of Whorethorne
Could not take it anymore
And they burnt down The Barn
Then, just like Tuesday
They too
Went frigging nuts
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
Translating life threw an empty wine bottle
Putting it all into words that collide and fall out
And spill all over the page
Ground-out cigarette buts and a newly lite one
The 'click click' of the type writer
It's sounding more like a loaded gun
Only one more 'Bing' until the triggers set off
Because I can't keep up this craft much longer
A useless pilot, slept threw class
But passed with honors
I'll be crashing now, ditching out
I suggest you all follow
I hear them yell 'no!'
I know this waters cold
Can't find the plug
To break this frigged flow
Better off tomorrow when the sun shines
To dive down deep and gather dimes
Slip them in the slot to give us more time
Until the clock runs out
The curtains draw across of my eyes
Shut, you're drowning out the violence
From the stick up kids, who used to play the violins
Traded in for prescriptions, please
Make me normal Saint MD
Or at least give me something I could use
To make a little cash on those streets
The ones I kick it on at night
But I think I hit it to hard
I think I blew out the light
Feb 12, 2010
Feb 12, 2010 at 1:03 PM UTC
Why do I dine in a twisted up mind
Kind of like a spine
it twists it bends it turns all night
Tired I perspire
weary joints after a days work
I'm working out these muscles
The sands of time are falling down around me
I don't mind
I fright that I might in a few months time
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 1:08 AM UTC