"gawd" poems
I'm trying
to read poetry...
a new love for me.
My critic's heart
is not so harsh
since you came to me.
You've freed me.
But..................
I'm distracted.
I'm stuck...
thinking...
your hand in my mouth...
the other on my wrist...
the blankets falling down...
There's teeth inside that kiss.
Even now
my breath is ragged...
my heart is quick
to send oxygen to my
(you know what)
and I....
know I love you for
far more than this...
but..............
OH
my
GAWD...
Did he just?
Yes he did.
And a smile wouldn't cover
how I felt with you last night.
Sounds like some **** right?
Like I'm lost inside
some teenaged *****
and thinking only of my groin
but you know me more
than I know me.
I spent six years waiting for this...
like it could be cultivated..
making love
instead of
making love.
Like the goal
was feeling satisfied
instead of
feeling loved.
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 11:52 PM UTC
have you been to
the honey bunny buffet
its on ***** hot ***** street
and lick it up all day
you can start with a kiss
theres buttery *****
don't you dare miss
her fallopian tubes
she comes with a milk shake
and sweet ***** treat
her **** delicious
you'll love her feet
there are deserts
different flavors for sure
and pudding viscous
you'll *** for some more
if you like women
shes yummy yum yummy
be you boy or girl
shes feels great in your tummy
i love to go their
its all you can eat
stuff your self good
gawd shes so sweet
do you like ****
its pink and its red
its good with black bean sauce
you can have it in bed
or **** warm and gooey
with ******** lips
sopping wet deliciousness
its so hot when she strips
theres big bowls of *****
smothered in cream
if you like *****
your gona scream
i want to eat their
every **** day
but my wife wont let me
so home i must stay* :(
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 3:22 PM UTC
The house was haunted
The family fled
They couldn't find the priest
So they got me instead.
I read aloud my poems
Full of sorrow and pain,
About dreary things
And nearly going insane.
"My Gawd", the ghosts cried
" This is fierce gloomy stuff,
I thought we were bad
But this, Enough! Enough! "
Well they wailed and they shrieked
And they wailed some more
Then holding their ears
They ran out the door.
Even ghosts they desert me I thought
After they'd gone
They'd never even heard of a sorrow
so deep
Or a pain as sharp as mine.
I sat there all alone in the silent house
With not a whisper, no! not a mouse
When all of a sudden there came
something strange
A little sound like that of slow trickling
water.
"Have you something to say to me
House", I asked
"Before I up and leave you forever",
The little sound, it stopped all at once
and looked up
As if very surprised at having been
discovered.
I rose to leave
But quickly turned back amazed
When from down & out of the
chimney
Crept this little voice so slight & warm
& tender.
" Forgive me Sir", it said,
"But I could contain myself no longer,
That little sound you hear, the tiny
trickle
Is but the teardrops from my eyes
dripping
Such a pain and sorrow as yours
I never heard before
Those anguish drenched words
They seeped through my walls right
into my heart
They pierced me deeply,
Yea, they pretty near tore me apart,
I'll remember you Sir when you're
gone
I don't think I could ever forget you".
I listened and was sorely moved
"Thank you House ", I said, "thank
you, thank you kindly"
And turning again at the front door
"Goodbye House, look after those
who'll live here, won't you".
Outside the birds, they were singing
And up in the sky, the sun
The sun, it was shining.
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 7:10 PM UTC
Like some goofy lisp.
Like left over from Surrey to Essex.
Lycan, Omish, with some Roudy Rawdy Piper.
Like a WWE event, no ropes in the ring and a whole
bunch of cheerios.
It sounded like chweer wee ohs.
I got England to laugh out loud.
We were all laying on the floor hoping
fuhat bassthard would gooh on a diet.
Like Van Gogh and his buddy whats his...
knuck knuck. Painting pictures of Marshall
Islanders for a vote or veto. Paul Goin and Vincent
Van Gogh sharing a lisp.
Sthounds like..... Ah gawd!
Shut up you sobbing limp noodle.
Try writing something we all can laugh at.
Humor me Socrates with Albert Einstein.
E equals MC squared.
One part energy, a mass constantly squared.
Cheerio old chaps.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 10:45 AM UTC
Maguire said: "Help me to help you!"
desperate measures
loud voices vie for unholy green
human bleeding punching bags
shaken brain, dulling wits, eye blur.
What's it all for? Gawd almighty dollar...
Better? A ten o'clock scholar.
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 3:21 PM UTC
Our houses, spitting-distance close
Feet propped on railing
cold beer with fresh lime
watching robins flung in flocks
to the failing of August
Too close-- Really?
John, on his cell
is fu_king the world again
from his garage
Why not-- squeeze in pool or a dog
Lawn mowers and **** whips tune in to whine
late Friday afternoon 'bout dinner time
Clinking silver, scrapes of plates
Running water for suds
through open windows to the thunk of pots
Doors bang behind on pathway to garbage
or joint in the woods
wafting over all
wordless squeals of delight from autistic child
Meanwhile, the odor of nail polish removes
all doubts of--
--Gawd!
lodging low and toxic
as the sun dissolves orange
in its acetone setting
Kids playing Man Hunt as darkness falls
Leaping hedges, slamming gates
No yards can contain these kinetics
restless legs, furtive minds
Muttering wind chimes
from four different porches
above the drone of highway
a half mile yawns
Pieces of talk
flipping the crickets
over--
Why or who or at what time?
Other-worldly glow from The Mall
dims stars
outlines mountains
brightens the horizon behind
Mosquitoes coming in for a landing
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 5:20 PM UTC
Venus cursed but well rehearsed
Phoenix heart destined to burst
Through cleansing flame I'm what remains
Infinite energy that never drains
Past..Forever regrets we sever
Break the pattern release the teether
Listen maybe you'll understand
Our future is held in our hands
Once upon a selfish mind
Saw the light made me blind
Search for answers that's what you'll find
Cast I am I play a fool
Manipulating every rule
Two versions of me in a duel
Both lay dead in a pool
Procreate self reproduction
Initiate new construction
Find a purpose how to function
Don't be a meal to feed corruption
Oh my lord I feel a change
Phasing as I rearrange
Wisdom flowing like a sage
Cursed I am with a life that's strange
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 7:23 PM UTC
~ one more for patty m. ~
slept late after dancing with my devils, from,
from the wee, until a pealing pearl from the Earl of Dawn,
recovering from an intrusion~invasion~brain~regurgitation,
and it’s nearly 9am, sipping my first cuppa Hawaiian,
& woke to a repost of a ten year old wondering plea(1)
makes me think “This old thing,” poem, like a fav
frock/suit that still drapes perfectly, and yet draws the
***** admiration and drippy drawling yummy compliments,
gracefully, gratefully demurred with them three words,
& it’s 8:39am, Bruce pitching in with “Born in the USA”
recipe for a new thank u Gawd poem to make room for
a fast~break diet for an old man with a rebuilt ticker, this
very emission~transmission of a verbal politesse writ going
some where, cooked on a medium slow burner fueling dressed up seeds of heartfelt appreciation made of ancient oat grasses
birthing a poem~child of thanks to the Lawd for one more day,
opportunity, the five sense’s delivery gratitude and gratifications, and the desire to intertwine the sights, music, a crisp blue November Sky, the need to bleed brew these words into a fulfilling,
second moment mug, for the pearls and Earls
of poetic humans
10:01am
Thu Nov 2 2023
Nov 2, 2023
Nov 2, 2023 at 10:16 AM UTC
I wrote this for a slam to explain who I am
It's PoetryByMAN
Yes I am a pseudonym
Mystery I provoke
Take it in let it soak
Word playing every stroke
Savor every ****
Next level set the tier
I'm here to make it clear
Though Twisted is the mirror
Rhymes you shouldn't fear
Competition vital
Here questing for the title
Who shall be my rival
In this game of survival
Hit with love
Vibrating like a hub
Ba doom Ba doom
Hit like a Sub...Woofer...
Heart full not hallow
LIKE ME!
If there was a button would you follow?
Messenger I am
Also I'm a fan
Diggity **** he thinks he's a rapper man
Simple..direct
Vocabulary wreck
All due respect..
Don't want to be correct
Commercial break watch me pop my snapple
Many skills acquired hope my talent is ample
Kung fu poet
Choose style I'll flow it
Talent the seed
Nurture grow it
From my bones
A melodic tone
Comfort comes from coming home
Shaman Buddha
Hybrid to school you
Sand a vibe
Runs right through you
Play my part
In this world of art
Butterfly to a new start
Blow nose with prose
Words without flow
Stand on stage
Put on a show
Hope you enjoyed PoetryByMAN
Spoken in 3rd I am
Blogs on tumblr..Facebook can't stand
Throw all in the air top rope poetry SLAM!!
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 7:03 PM UTC
THE TRUE STORY
The wolf sat on the ground.
Little Red Riding Hood
sat at his feet.
"Well, well, well, so
here we are again!"
said Mr. Woolf in a faux
English accent
he had picked up from watching
Peter O'Toole be Lawrence of Arabia.
"Some apple juice my dear
have some apple crumble do!"
enquired Mr. Woolf of his
fairy story cohort.
"I baked it myself you know
molasses instead of sugar
gives it that dark flavour
oh and a little touch of ginger!"
Little Red Riding Hood
wolfed down the apple crumble.
Sipped...slurped
noisily through a bendy straw
annoying the silence that
gathered itself around her.
There was a piece of apple
crumble on her nose.
For a little girl she
had a big appetite.
The wolf ate nothing.
"We can't go on like this
any minute now a child
somewhere in another
somewhere
will start our story
by opening a book.
I will be called upon
to eat you and Granny up.
I don't even like
grannies for gawd's sake!"
Mr. Woolf had tears that
refused to fall.
It's got...it's...got
to somehow stop!"
Little Red Riding Hood burped.
"Pardon!"
So, when the child I used to be
opened the story once
upon a time it was
simply not there.
There was nothing there.
Nothing but a great big ****** blank.
Somewhere in another somewhere
Little Red Riding Hood
swung on a swing
Mr. Woolf pushing her
higher and
higher into
a summer blue
sky.
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 3:27 PM UTC
Had her legs insured for
movies, her career,
a million dollars
worth
calves and thighs
Kneecaps that just won't quit
and those tights
with the seams in the back
Oh.
My.
Gawd.
Betty Grable
Driving me insane sometimes
I lay awake at night
mentally budgeting future
paychecks
online shopping for those
lacy tights
I want to get my legs insured
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 4:36 PM UTC
Speakin’ in general, I’ave tried ’em all
The ‘appy roads that take you o’er the world.
Speakin’ in general, I’ave found them good
For such as cannot use one bed too long,
But must get ‘ence, the same as I’ave done,
An’ go observin’ matters till they die.
What do it matter where or ‘ow we die,
So long as we’ve our ‘ealth to watch it all—
The different ways that different things are done,
An’ men an’ women lovin’ in this world;
Takin’ our chances as they come along,
An’ when they ain’t, pretendin’ they are good?
In cash or credit—no, it aren’t no good;
You’ve to ‘ave the ‘abit or you’d die,
Unless you lived your life but one day long,
Nor didn’t prophesy nor fret at all,
But drew your tucker some’ow from the world,
An’ never bothered what you might ha’ done.
But, Gawd, what things are they I’aven’t done?
I’ve turned my ‘and to most, an’ turned it good,
In various situations round the world
For ‘im that doth not work must surely die;
But that’s no reason man should labour all
‘Is life on one same shift—life’s none so long.
Therefore, from job to job I’ve moved along.
Pay couldn’t ‘old me when my time was done,
For something in my ‘ead upset it all,
Till I’ad dropped whatever ’twas for good,
An’, out at sea, be’eld the dock-lights die,
An’ met my mate—the wind that tramps the world!
It’s like a book, I think, this bloomin, world,
Which you can read and care for just so long,
But presently you feel that you will die
Unless you get the page you’re readi’n’ done,
An’ turn another—likely not so good;
But what you’re after is to turn’em all.
Gawd bless this world! Whatever she’oth done—
Excep’ When awful long—I’ve found it good.
So write, before I die, ” ‘E liked it all!”
2.4k
Dear Gawd......I wanna be Pope..
I never ride backwards
on train or bus,
I never profane,
blaspheme or cuss,
I'm limpid,
riven of diaphanous stuff
never been given,
to a female ****
I'm penitent, contrite –
shriven of sin,
compliant, reliant,
I'm bendy n thin.
not quite castrato,
gives good vibrato
to choirboys mullato
with bellybutton fluff.
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 2:19 PM UTC
The day blister as the sun followed 'er.
No shade nor a parasol as she goeth an' hope for evanescent heat
A basket in 'er hand, one way to marketplace
'Alt! A mad horse kicked thro'
Dropped on earth, dirt in 'er sleeves
"Gawd o' all horses keep yer eyes open to see!"
A fine young man bowed down for repent about his detriment ride.
O! Poor little thing!
A thorough water in the basket she offered for 'er long little journey.
** The vigor horse galloped an' circle round she.
'twas a good thing an' he proffers honourable ride.
There goes the curtsy 'off in the marketplace' says she.
Alt! The creature pause. Where is this? "thy big heart shalt hail for I, present thankfulness. Devoting thy fortune." the prince rendered his throne bounteously.
O! Applause how majestic upclose a palace could be.
'tis she wish e'er since. To seek for a lost playmate, hoping for camaraderie. Remembering in that small village where the little prince sneaked. Oh dear! 'Twas he!
Aye! The prince hoped the same an' knew all of a sudden. He made 'er his wife!
(An' they live happily e'er after. Bow)
-A
8/11/14
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
If only you were a little less bent
Fixable
Like, a little less hollow
Gullible
"If only you would just! stop! thinking!
For once
You must be tired
I mean OH MY GAWD
Its like you're wired!
And like, your're way too cynical
Sarcastic, witty sure, but that's just
typical!
Arrogance, you think your're better-
than- Oh wait look at that hot guy,
his name is Brent-
Wait, wait
Now, what was it I was saying-
Yeah your'e like way too
cold, puts people off
Your're disarming...
No wait-I meant alarming
haha!
I mean smile, for once
Laugh at a joke!
Talk to the guys,
Gosh, you don't even ****
-All you do is mope,
I mean seriously c'mon
I'm trying to be nice
You have such potential!-"
-"shutup you dumb *****
Dec 31, 2011
Dec 31, 2011 at 11:28 PM UTC
I have this dog, a huge great pooch,
Just like the one, on Turner and *****
He really is a big orange lump,
Dare I say how much he dumps,
He shreds and ruins my favourite stuff,
Covering the floor, in loads of fluff,
TV remotes, he's chewed them up,
He costs a bomb, my naughty pup,
His snoring rattles the gates of hell,
And when he farts, my gawd, the smell!,
Don't let's forget, he loves his food,
Face in your cup, slurp slurp, how rude,
What's yours is his, he takes the ****
I dare you say the word, "biscuit"
He slobbers shoestrings, from his chops,
Each room has a rag, for him to mop,
But that aside, he has my heart,
His crinkly face, and stinky farts,
Rolling in fox mess on his daily stroll,
Sniffing crotches, of those who call,
I kiss his face off every day,
I could never love a man this way,
He has a face you want to snog,
I really, really love this dog :)
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 5:59 PM UTC
I helped my Uncle Jack off a donkey once and
I helped my neighbour Bill Krapp into a church, but
Thank Gawd I never saw my aunt's ***** being eaten
By a grizzly bear, only by my Uncle ****
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
Gawd at times it's pretty rough
I get these flashes from the past
The pain, the anger, the sadness
Just creeps up on me, unexpectedly
To recall deeds that has been dealt
The memory like a cutting knife
You think that's all in the past
You think you can heal and move on
But something always comes back to haunt me
Memory lost now recalled
Gawd I need to get these thought out of my mind
But they still haunt my life
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
People with BO
Dogs, that bark too much
In the fast lane, moving slow
The sound, of a grinding clutch
Grocery cart squeaks
Those who can't decide
Driveway, oil leaks
Someone ate, the last slice of pie
Un-reset microwaves
Cat crap on my stoop
Children who misbehave
And parents, full of ****
But most of all, and foremost
It's always on my mind
Those who refuse to see
Even though, not blind
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 10:42 AM UTC
For Berlinski
<X>
it's so true, can't believe it though,
this fact so well known, my cells fibers denied it asylum,
mocking me with a berating ****** single-cell-syllable of
shut-up
my runted eyes never spake this confess out loud
but here it is,
a silent truth rutting onto the **** mirror paper-white screen
where the pixels do my screaming pleasing easy and the
goldie oldie ***** stains, asking "you again?"
silence reverberates, like a tree falling in the forest,
the screen where I live, holy matrimony 90% of everyday
for better or worse, still crazy, the years get longer and the
the poems stretch out, ******* sag, and pseudo-crazy making me
lazy tired
no shy guy me, but the word waste of pointless,
sends me silently screaming to the bedroom where under covers
I count threads. herding words, making pleasure gutter noises,
that can only be heard by the audio surgically implanted
in a human chest, and the dust mites
*but the blunt i smoke stimulates the nervous brain system and the gibberish comes furiously fast, trying not to burn the sheets
that just were laboriously added up to soft and silky when served with a side of naked girl and discovered that I talk hugely stupid when stupid and ****** oh so common, and
the s-words cut bluntly and satrap sharp where there and when the plain sentences become bread knife sharp and the poems gestate in 9 minutes because nothing is blurred and all use Exit 74 on
the interspatial, intracellular inter-pet
fully formed, in finery, winery celebrated, spilling wine on those sheets and now I am cursed cause words are the master,
leaving me just the mature, shy crazy boy, the muted tool;
oh god, dear god - Oh GAWD!!!
please let me be still crazy till long after my
bleached bones rumble,
"boy, it is time to be in that in that valley"*
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 4:21 PM UTC
*I should do my HW.
But you still haven't responded,
What if you do while I'm gone and I can't reply?
Then you'll think you aren't important enough to respond to.
I guess I can hold off on it for a little longer.
Looove meeeeeee.
Gawd I'm stupid for liking you.
But the way you laugh,
The way you talk,
The way you simply live.
(Dying whale noises)
God you're perfect in the most imperfect way.*
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
Compassion is a distraction
Leaving butterflies and still question marks
While I'm smiling, groaning, and thrashing
Swimming in a cesspool filled with cruel sharks
Not used to kind remarks and the complimentary excess
So I hashtag fallacies and clever messages to make them all perplexed
Then
Come the moment of truth cross them out wave goodbye
And slash every last dime a dozen heart
If what they were saying was genuine. . .
I'd find a way
To be disappointed from the start
Pixellated picture frames hover play over dull space
When it's the only real way to me I ever get to see your full face
And when left alone in the confines of a necessary moment
I'd lead with retrospect and waste time wondering what it all meant
I forget to taste and touch. Too busy while I preach and rush
To enjoy a moment in the sun and all that noise seems to hush
The day I forgot to stop and think was the day I had some fun
Until I rewind the reality tape and press play to watch it come undone
The tale I spin runs with parasites that perforate dripping abcesses
Ravage rats ravenous and infected blood flows through cordial asepsis
Fantasizing of better times while right now passes by.
I close my eyes and kiss the sky and wish that I could fly
Fish for stockpile rhythm and dive bar singing blues
Sizing up and dicing up and slicing up the clues
Sometimes it can be as simple as simple: me and you
Until I **** that too and habits bloom I'm just a fool
Who thinks on wasted talent
The words I write don't render sight so I don't bother myself
A single dent.
My cup has run over wild amok. Belly up. Superfluous in extent
I'm not certain whether to give a **** or pray to God my soul is sent.
RE: :) Wow. My Gawd that is sooo hot. You're really so tlented! Hmu 2 c wat's up. Or better yet txt me #Spent xoxo
Until next time
Let me kno wat u ment.
...
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 11:46 PM UTC
look, here it is 3:23 am
and i have been tossing and turning
for several hours with too much on my mind
and i finally relent to the fact
that sleep is not going to come easily for me,
so I can come down stairs
and get on the computer
and look at posts from others to distract me
until that first mighty yawn arrives.
Gawd, i hope it happens before the alarm clock goes off
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 5:18 AM UTC