"gentlemen" poems
54
If I should die,
And you should live—
And time should gurgle on—
And morn should beam—
And noon should burn—
As it has usual done—
If Birds should build as early
And Bees as bustling go—
One might depart at option
From enterprise below!
’Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand
When we with Daisies lie—
That Commerce will continue—
And Trades as briskly fly—
It makes the parting tranquil
And keeps the soul serene—
That gentlemen so sprightly
Conduct the pleasing scene!
58.2k
Anna,
the young lions won't want you
forever.
Eventually you are going to
get tired
of keeping it tight,
of batting your eyes,
of applying the gloss just right.
Anna,
what will you do when the invitation beds
come to an end?
Eventually the lions will settle,
while you gather cobweb and callus,
while you smoke cancer and wallow in cellulite.
Anna,
find a boy who makes you feel like the sun.
Ultimately,
he's the only one who can save your soul
from all the crimes you've done.
Aug 29, 2010
Aug 29, 2010 at 10:14 PM UTC
They grace our tables
with their elegance and their beauty,
Support us in our careers
as though it was their duty,
They listen to our problems
day after day,
The same old problems,
They´ve been listening to since May,
Chefs, accountants, nannies and councillors
are just a few of their talents.
And when things are hectic
they mostly keep their balance.
And what do they get
when they've worked a long hard day.
I'll tell you something gents
they don't ask for any pay.
So how can we show gratitude for what is clearly so demanding.
Its quite simple
Gentlemen, please be upstanding,
The Ladies
Sep 25, 2010
Sep 25, 2010 at 11:35 AM UTC
Step One:
Meet someone.
Step Two:
Become friends.
Step Three:
Spend too much time with them.
Step Four:
Realize that you have gotten along better with them than anyone else you know.
Step Five:
Tell yourself that they're the one for you.
Step Six:
Tell them that they're the one for you.
Step Seven:
Date.
Step Eight:
Fall in love.
Take a deep breath.
This is where it gets tricky.
STEP NINE:
Stay together for awhile...
STEP TEN:
AND AWHILE LONGER
STEP ELEVEN
AND WHILE LONGER
STEP TWELVE
AND AWHILE LONGER
AND AWHILE LONGER
AND AWHILE LONGER
AND AWHILE LONGER
STEP THIRTEEN:
SHORTEN CONVERSATIONS
STEP FOURTEEN:
AWKWARD SILENCE
STEP FIFTEEN:
THEY STOP CALLING
STEP SIXTEEN:
THEY STOP TEXTING
STEP SEVENTEEN:
THEY SAY THEY FEEL DIFFERENTLY
STEP EIGHTEEN:
THEY SAY THEY MET SOMEONE ELSE
STEP NINETEEN:
THEY SAY THEY STILL WANT TO BE FRIENDS
STEP TWENTY:
THEY BLOCK YOU ONLINE
STEP TWENTY-ONE:
THEY BLOCK YOUR CELLPHONE NUMBER
STEP TWENTY-TWO:
YOU CRY
and you cry
and cry
and cry
and cry and cry and cry...
Step Twenty-Three:
...you fall
and hit rock bottom.
There you have it, ladies in gentlemen:
How to **** yourself without actually dying?
...Love someone who doesn't love you back.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 10:56 PM UTC
Gentlemen of Courage and Ladies of Excellence,
Toast to stolen prayers with rarer player’s hands;
Soft in defiant laughter,
when drinking their wine from the bowels of brines
Sing along the Ballads of Heritage with Melodies of Exception;
Boast, not a breathe,
though sullen heirs ghost to fairer wearer’s air(s) of land—
A settlement of Rapture and Resurrection, arid, amid dirt and sand
and King and thy Kingdom sprout flowering tomb, and rosebud temple reach to the sky during the showers of spring
Devours the crescent Moon
in big pink petals of bloom;
A garden so fertile
it could look pretty in wartime—
with Gardeners of Courage and Laborers of Excellence;
(Lapse, not into digressions of Being and Essence
but hands in the soil and planting the actions of kingdom come,
patient building of Spring Reign sure
as the flame, the architect of rising Sun is
(Daughters and Sons of kingdom came,
the soldier in a land been conquered and named; abandoned
for the greenness of hope.
)May it never come, Be All The Same; (
be gentle, though whispering wind)
Seeds of Nextyear and the spores of Awhile,
carried by the Wasps and the Clouds
To the Gentlemen of Excellence and Ladies of Courage,
illuminated, eyes from the flora of stars faraway forest floor of foreign
fears,
as the hungry Owls of Time prepare a final feast—
Consume the years between Here and Now;
Watching from blank perch, among
the Trees of Afterall; a place beyond expectance.
Sing the branches of experience, to wake
in Siren’s cipher; inelegant forms
of waking,
ugly sleep on rocks of seabed; once was aboard a marooned skyline—
Those Who Are Will Be
again, again a serf in a wave of Time’s refraction. Neverending neverbeginning;
Those Gentlemen of Courage and Ladies of Excellence,
on the Day That Is, arrays of seers sayers doers displayers
optimists and pessimists, toast to them
and their rarer player’s hands,
Boast they, not a breathe, though sullen heirs ghost
to fairer wearer’s air and land;
Laugh and howl and dine, they drink their wine
from disemboweled gourds
of their own divine—
Warped, in jowls of hungry fix,
no feast they fear, for they prey to the Owls of Time.
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 5:28 PM UTC
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----
A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a **** lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.
Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me
And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.
This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.
What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies
These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,
Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.
The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut
As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical
Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:
'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.
Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
26k
I am not required to love you.
Let's get that straight.
Neither man nor woman
Is obligated to profess
And show their undying love for you,
Just as the sun doesn't revolve around the world,
The world doesn't revolve around you.
A series of acts showing your "kindness"
Is not a contract for a relationship.
The very fact that you have to shout
How you are a "nice guy"
Shows how you aren't;
Kindness doesn't need reassurance.
To be frank,
This whole delusion
Is getting a bit out of hand
(see: the ****** Killer",
a guy so sexually frustated
He killed people
for not giving him the right to get laid).
Maybe, hear me out here guys,
it's not because girls only look for "bad guys".
Maybe we look for soulmates,
Not Good Samaritans with hidden agendas.
This may come off as a shock for some of you,
But all-around goodness isn't equal
to treating girls nicely
Only because you might have a chance.
So if your mating dance
Consists of acting like you're an angel And simultaneously complaining
About the blindness
And insolence of women,
It's high time you should stop.
Put down the fedora while you're at it.
It's become a symbol for gentlemen for you,
But now it's a warning sign for us: "Beware the self-entitling guy!"
Honestly, we cringe every single time.
And darling,
Nice guys always finish last
because they whine
Instead of running.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
ladies and gentlemen this little girl
with the good teeth and small important *******
(is it the Frolic or the Century whirl?
ones memory indignantly protests)
this little dancer with the tightened eyes
crisp ogling shoulders and the ripe quite too
large lips always clenched faintly,wishes you
with all her fragile might to not surmise
she dreamed one afternoon
….or maybe read?
of time a when the beautiful most of her
(this here and This, do you get me?)
will maybe dance and maybe sing and be
absitively posolutely dead,
like Coney Island in winter
15k
During one of my recent internet travels,
I came across a picture of a “minor”,
posing with tinted lips
and exposed *******
What got my eyes
pinned were the thousand number of likes
by virtually hooting “boys”
and comments by other group of “gentlemen”
telling her how to dress.
HUMILITY: I have been asked to repeat the word
too many times to recall what it means:
the man on the subway cat-called
and accused me of showing too much skin
but instead of fighting back, I smiled
because girls ought to be nice.
I have been taught to survive
by using my body as a swiss army knife,
and I convince myself that
there is protection in being polite.
H-U-M-I-I am forgetting the rest.
The smoke curled up from between his fingers
and he blew out toxic, blurring my vision.
I gasped and wheezed
but I held my sneeze,
I cannot slap him across his face. HUMILITY.
So, I just pretended to cough, hoping he’ll feel ashamed.
I have been trained to flutter my eyelash,
clench my jaw at a whiplash
and business school boys,
who manifest success by refusing to take “NO” for an answer.
And for every time his prying eyes
scan down by body,
as if rating my inexperienced assets on a scale of one to five,
and every time his touch trails a chill down my spine,
I wonder:
Male kindness is so alien to us; we confuse it with seduction every time.
HUMILITY: the quality of having a low view of one’s importance
but, I fail to understand
when did it become synonymous to diffidence;
there is a subtle difference between
papercuts and shattered integrity,
holding hands and chaining souls,
building houses and creating homes,
humiliation rotting down to bones and humility.
HUMILITY, have you spelled it too many times to know what it looks like?
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 9:59 AM UTC
The times here, mind clear
removed fear, mind fully-aware
they can’t calculate my circumference
they try-angle-hate to encompass
i’m too persistent
consistently consistent
my philosophy brilliant
they’re mindfully malignant
plots thicken and spots pigment
perfect gentlemen, acting indecent
handed them knowledge, didn't keep it
then peep game, telling secrets
I’m sure they’re getting seasick
its been written, still going off the top
the deep-end, the stuck on the plot
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
As Stong as the An African Elephant
Yet were are supple and elegant.
We are persuasive talkers so our words are very Eloquent.
Crafted From man's rib and An earthly element is How God made the first Wombman in the old testiment.
During the worlds development
We somehow begun to be irrelevant
Forgetting that we were designed as a help mate who is heaven sent.
We shed Bloods for days sometimes a months without dying.
Raising our children to Be Ladies and gentlemen whom are edifying.
In our wombs a human life we are able carry.
We are informational like a human dictionary.
We store resoureful pieces of data like a library.
Created with brown sugar, warm honey, cocoa and Gold.
Out spirits are Radiently Bold.
Our bodies are temples that can't be bought or sold.
We have a Story that must be hear and told.
We are the beautiful flowers in the month of May That Springs up and blooms in middle of noons day.
We flourish just as the fluorescent blue jay, Whose mood is Joyful and gay.
Our Skin absorbs the sun's Incandescent. Ray.
Some may say, Our hair is ***** but Actually, Our hair just happens to defy gravity
So we wear it upon our head proudly like a Crown
because Living in socitey's prospective of what you should look like will weigh you down.
You will stay stuck on being lost when you already have been found.
Be about your fathers business and know you are Heaven bound.
We are run life's race with meaning and purpose in our pace
Even our walk is embedded with grace
Nature's beauty smiles upon our face
As We Wear God's love like a Pure Gold necklace that's trimmed with lace.
The Strength we've gain
Turned us into warriors from living the through the most Excruciating pain
Thats the Reason we humbly pray as we sing and dance in the middle of the storm's rain.
Our humility will continue to remain.
We are women of Virtue
I wrote this to encourage you
Never let no one break, hurt or discourage you know who you belong to.
And who deserves a Woman of your statue.
For Being black Is Exhilarating
And being a woman is Breathtaking but Being a Black Woman is an Honorary Identity that is Legendary.
Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
I feel like a friend-- a true friend,
is more than a profile on a website.
And peace is more than a handshake agreement
brought by the outcome of a gruesome fight.
I know that self worth is more than someone's opinion,
and in no other dominion but mine own to foster and care for.
And I can see that happiness is more than having money, sure,
cause most of us laugh everyday here, and come on, we're dirt poor.
And I pray the human soul is more than Casper's counterpart,
somewhere between the heart and the pancreas.
And God, faith is so much more than cryin' and dyin'
over spilt milk between religions.
And in case you were confused, "I love you", is more than
pet names, bed games, and ***
Music is more than pimps, hoes, and MTV Shows, and T-Pain singin through a computer.
Believe that life is more than grades and degrees,
or drugs and disease,
or the 'ABCs' of success that some old man wrote a thousand years ago.
This poem has to be more than words strewn together
to voice my discontent at the status-quo..
Hell, the word "more" itself is more than a one-syllable statment
that what we lack in the present
is just a larger quantity of the **** "we already have",
and no!
The power of your silent agreement is more than that
of my voice alone, so...
What is "more"?
In many ways, "more" is the friend you never had.
More peace in the world would end all the mindless bloodshed.
More respect and selfworth would bring beauty back to youth,
especially to the women in the world,
that sell their unique souls to look like the cover of Cosmo.
More faith, that grants serenity in the times of hardship,
will be the soothing hand of an Angel on our shoulders as
we say, "I love you" to our enemies, martyrs for a better world.
More positive music will inspire us,
to be the change we want to see in the world, today,
instead of, "Waitin' on the World to Change "♫ ♪ ♫♪
So ladies and gentlemen, make a decision: if you want to be
critics and vipers,
war mongers and hope-snipers,
ignore my intention, and live with more division.
But, if any of you are artists starving for meaning and inspiration,
if you envision a world of more than... THIS...
Then let a word change a feeling,
change a thought, change a meaning,
change your mind...
And get more out of life.
Oct 5, 2010
Oct 5, 2010 at 1:38 PM UTC
As I watch you sleep, you wonder through vivid dreams,
This must be the reason for your kicking and muted screams.
As you slept, I held you so tightly, even though your naked body excites,
Which is a blessing on cold winter nights.
But as morning creeps in and the light starts to begin,
I create with a tiny lick, the most arousing sensation.
And as her vestigial legs slide so easily, I being the lovers embrace,
Bathing in her ocean of taste, great emotion fills her face.
"Oh, I am sorry sweetie, did I wake".... "oh no my dear, I did not want an oversight,
For a wish or a dream in the night, a touch so softly, there is no fight.
I figured I would stir you in the seeking of a snack,
But don't you worry a little bit, just relax and lay right back
For there is no greater act, then to lick our passionate parts so sweetly,
In between your thighs, while I drive my tongue so deeply.
But what I do with my tongue at midnight, when there is no one around to hear the yells,
I would go into more detail, but a gentlemen never tells!
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey—
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter—
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular,
A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there’s still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover—
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.
6.9k
I love you for your laughter
your soft hair
the morning routines I tried to adopt, that you have down to a science
the way you gaze into the abyss
with tender expressions
the careful footsteps
the blushing falseness
the pretty lace and ribbons
the black eyeliner and studded collars
BUT
beards and hunting and fishing
flannels and strength and handsome fellers
truck stops and smoking
whiskey and bonfires
g i joe and spiderman
but most of all batman and joker
the complications of comics
gaming on friday nights with bottles of bud
I love men and boys and women and girls and ladies and gentlemen
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 5:00 PM UTC
A gentleman is a guy who'll treat a girl right
But s thugg only wants to hit it for one night
A gentleman is romantic and sweet
A thugg is only nice to get in the sheets
The gentleman will open his lady door
And address her by her name of dear
A thugg will leave her and even more
But they say they bring a lady to cheer
A gentleman is faithful
Thugs are ungreatful
Calling girls ******* and hoes can be hateful
Thuggs are winning
Gentlemen are losing
The **** keeps lots of girls choosing
A gentleman dresses professional and neat
While a thugg sags and eorks the streets
You choose which one is best
Which one will win and put other to rest
A gentleman classifies me
But which one would yoh rather be
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC
Thinking, Pondering, Wondering
What’s wrong with me, am I too nice? Are my friend’s right?
For I heard this phrase for so long
Junior year to be exact.
Are you gay, you **** bro are you straight?
(Is what I heard)
Are you crazy, **** them hoes
(Is what they said)
Go out and get that bread
It’s all coming back to me.
Too nice
Is what I’m characterized as
Never the one to go out and get it.
What you going to with it?
You gonna to hit that, tap that
Because if you don’t I surely will pull that cap back
In to reality
Snap, it’s all coming back to me.
See I’ve had my time of deception and deceit
For now I’m grown and just want to take a seat
Relax and think
Blind to see that special someone for me.
But, in this world there’s no room for that
All society wants you to do is have babies,
Be poor, struggling
Oh, that’s a class act.
But for me, I don’t belong
Others strung along like a puppeteer singing their favorite song
Bounce that *** Twerk that
Is what our women are suppose to know
But, who is the one to show
All the beauty and potential they possess
Progress into women of success.
Too bad none of them will ever see that.
Most of them will be on their backs, thrusting
While the eyes of the Lord watching, as his child
Is no longer is his little girl.
Too Nice
Ponder at the fact that nice guys finish last
Where are the gentlemen, the ones that take women
Out on dates, but their afraid to actual settle down
Thinking I’ll look like a clown when my homies find out.
Sincerity and acknowledgment are things of the past.
Now days, saying ***** and *** is what’s going to get you past
In life, I learned that you can’t make everyone happy
But, if I can make most then that makes me happy.
Gratitude and simple thank you is all I ask
A little kerseys and small “how do” will do for I don’t ask for much
Friendship, Loyalty, and Respect
F.L.R.
But, how can that get you so far, because in this world no one cares about
Your feelings.
Phssst, what were you thinking?
I was thinking that for once, just once nice guys wouldn’t finish last.
Be glad while you have me for who know how long I’m a stay
TOO NICE
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 6:04 PM UTC
An urban legend of sorts they said, of a tree, of a
branch that took any weight given. it has nickname
It had a place in secluded nature where no one seen.
**"The *** tree,**
"Really,
"Ye but you have to watch your step,
"Why??
"Well lets just say its a well fertilized ground,
"The earth and plants feed well on the,
"Sap,
"Seeds,
Not from one but the many, I heard the branch
Can take any weight, a gentlemen of plentiful weight
Tested the legend and got stuck **** naked
Not for a,
"Moment,
"Minute,
"Hours,
"Was he stuck, birthday suit and all,
His lady friend had jogged off with wallet and all,
Its on YouTube,
Called tree hugger nudist,
There is loads of dents little *** holes,
Some say its all the ***** *******
So many hard ones poking dents,
indentations forever of ******* against this tree.
"I've been their done that,
Really,
"Never again,
"Were standing on this branch,
"What's that look for,
"Nothing,
(Giggles under breathe)
"Getting into the moment,
"Thought sap,
"Tree sap,
"Was seeping in to my hair,
"Don't stop what happened stuck,
*"Pants down skinny **** man up tree,*
(giggles loudly)
"Dude I'm 6 foot 5inches,
It was sap of a different kind,
(Gags in mouth)
No Fudging way,
Yep that's not the worst,
"How the hell does some one seed a tree that high,
**"It was like the tree was ******* itself,**
"Old juice, sap, Klingon,
"What ever I throw up on her,
She bit down,
I, we feel three feet out the tree,
"So that's what the plaster cast is from,
"Is that why your walking funny,
Twenty nine stitches its like something
From a Frankenstein film,
Never again my friend a bed is where ill be from
Now on, she fell in a puddle of Jib juice triplets
She had all three different, DNA tests on all
Who visited the tree.
As a video recorded of all who entered,
Just not the naked bits seen.
**"Nature can keep its *** tree,**
"I'll be lucky if mine works again,
"Mine isn't wood its a limp branch now,
*"Dude you got ****** by wood,*
"Bitten limp by teeth,
"Unlucky bro,
"Hahahahah,
"Rather you than me,
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 5:36 PM UTC
I should have been a boxer....the way I stick and move when I write. The only person I know that can make the sun shine at night.
I should have been a boxer....the way i fight with words to paint a picture. I'm using the jab to set you up for the knockout blow. I'm looking for your tendencies and when i spot it......down you will go.
I should have been a boxer....float like a butterfly sting like a bee. A sign of honor to a fellow poet.....and inspiration to me.....Muhammad Ali. I should be a boxer the way i study my craft and observe the legends of the game. It's all all about the passion.....I could care less about fame.
I should have been a boxer.....you can't be good unless you train. I have my book ....my pen .....ideas in my brain. I have so many thoughts I may need another brain. I'm on the speed bag so my brain is quick with the flow....switching styles like a southpaw.....which way is it coming? I guess you will never know.
I should have been a boxer....because i really like to fight. Instead of gloves I utilize my pen to pulverize the paper and annihilate those foes and lost loves....father's who left their children at start. They couldn't finish the fight .....was he a coward or a scarecrow.....born without a heart.
I should've been a boxer.....because my defense is always up. I hide my poems inside a book .....it's highly guarded so don't try to look. The thoughts inside are g14 classified....so I'm hiring security guards.....if you want to gain entrance.....you must present an identification card.
I should've been a boxer....because I'm always fighting. My thoughts are knocked to the paper and bleeds black or red. I write about life .....because I know nothing about being dead. Although, I been knocked around .....and have had to take a standing eight.....I leaned on the ropes and learned to wait. Still working the jab......which are the words i write.
I should've been a boxer.....one hitter quitter and then it's time to say "Goodnight!"
Ladies and Gentlemen......we have a unanimous decision. The new poetic champion of the worldddddd!!! ......I should've been a boxer.....Yeah right.
Oct 12, 2012
Oct 12, 2012 at 5:36 AM UTC
So, dope young fellow
With your pretty boy swag.
With your SnapBack on.
Pants so **** low.
Every girl just waiting in line just to give you a blow.
You're royalty around here, but this is still high school.
Taking every girls cherries and jewels.
You think that you're raising the bar but I've seen this before:
Call it VCR.
And then there's me:
Who don't get no ladies.
Because I'm the type of person who actually treats females as actually human beings.
Not toys.
I'll put them before myself.
I care about their joy.
You know what's dead: chivalry.
And it can never be reborn.
Not like Call of Duty: zombies.
Boom, headshot.
But there's another ten coming your way.
Then it gets to the point when you're just blown away.
But I'll be your player 2.
Girl, I'd give up all my perks just for you.
So you guys out there with the pretty boy swag.
Who just zip it all up cuz they think they got it in the bag.
I'm going to fight.
I'm going to step up for the voices not heard.
Cuz you've drowned them in depression, you've choke them with cruelty, and you've slapped them with sadness.
Unable to act.
Like a flightless bird.
I'll let them out of their cages so they can fly once again.
So you can't weight them down:
Call you Anchormen. Ooo, **** em'
So, pretty boy, nothing close to fantastic.
I just wanna say:
That I know I'm swagtastic.
S- saving
W- women
A- against
G- guys
T- that
A- abuse
S- sensitive
T- tender
I- innocent
C- companions.
Shorten that: swag.
S- she
W- wants
A- a
G- gentlemen.
So now boy,
Lets just see which one of us got that "Pretty Boy Swag"
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
Art will come and go
And grow and be bold or ugly
It will transform lives, sculpt beauty
It will capture phenomenal imagination
Lead to new places or people
Change an entire perspective
Open a closed mind,
Expand an eager mind
Art is in us all
So ladies, if the man you seek
Is unapologetic in his art
Be open to all his personalities
Help cultivate the many characters
That he may have shown you
Don't hold them under water
And fellas, be men, be gentlemen
If your woman you hold true
Has bigger wings than your ****
Don't be weary, become nurturing
A woman's fire should burn and burn
Women who are creating art is better
Than the story of creation itself
We owe it to each other to let art live
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 11:17 AM UTC
So you really want to know
Why chivalry died?
Well the truth hurts dear reader
But to explain I deal shall try
Chivalry died because of a lack of appreciation from both sides
Of the spectrum it's like seeing a reflection of stupidity in thine eyes
Ladies it died because we failed to train up gentlemen, and the ones that very rarely are usually end up being simply friends,
Fellas we killed it to by not training up our sons
More often now the golden rule is look out for number one
So chivalry died a slow painful death,
From neglect from both sides,
Will it ever return again
I don't know when really... But I hope we try
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Afterlife Airlines.
I’m your pilot, Captain Meta Physics.
Please fasten your sleep belts
as we are about to leave the body.
Please direct your attention to your stewardess
while she demonstrates safety procedures.
In the event of a drastic reduction in karma,
a mask will fall down from above you.
Place it on and breathe deeply of pure love.
Should those passengers who are clinically dead
find themselves returned by a surgeon’s skill,
the life raft under your seat will inflate
with a new sense of purpose.
After take off the stewardesses will serve milk and honey.
For your entertainment, the movie is
anything with Shirley Maclaine in it
or there are seven channels of chi
on the chakra-phones being dispensed soon.
For those contemplating joining the Tantric Mile High club,
please be considerate of your fellow passengers.
We’re making good time because
the breath of God is always behind us.
Below us to the right is the Ocean of Ego
and to our left some passengers may glimpse
the chain of islands: Faith, Hope and Charity.
We’ve been advised that it’s a little busy on The Other Side
so we’ve been placed in a holding pattern
on the astral plane.
Passengers are reminded to retrieve all emotional baggage
for security reasons
and please help Customs
by declaring all religious preferences.
Ladies and gentlemen, we’re cleared for landing now.
On behalf of the crew, I hope you enjoyed
your transdimensional flight with Afterlife Airlines
and we hope to see you aboard again soon.
Please fasten your sleep belts,
we’re coming in for reincarnation.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 1:57 AM UTC
Hare Krishna's
In their Pickups
Depressed Comics
Down on their Luck
Teenage Girls
Screaming Meme's
****** Pinko's*
Leftward Leaning
Vincent Price
Flo and Eddie
Rodger Rabbit
Priscilla Presley
Nuns in Habits
Dwarf's in Ponchos
Deadbeat Dads
Munching Nachos
Right-Wing Nut Jobs
Trading Slogans
A few Hero's
Including Hogan
Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Buddhist Monks
With Electric Banjos
Holding Signs Up
Of Marlon Brando
Taxi Cabs
Blaring Show Tunes
Pregnant Women
Down-loading Soon
Derby Jockeys
Flying Monkeys
Kool-Aidholics
Skittle Junkies
Bozo The Clown
Bumper Stickers
Psychedelic
Crazed Toad Lickers
Rhinestone Cowboys
In their Skivvies
Gothic Girls
Heebie Jeebies
Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Blue Haired Granny's
In pink Moo Moos
Ballerina's In
Tattered Tutus
Mathematician's
Number Crunchers
Even have Some
Out to Lunchers
Model 50's
*Do *** Daddies*
One More Round Of
Flo and Eddie
People Sneaking
Across the Border
Lonely Fry Cooks
Taking Orders
A Few Wannabes
Not Saying Much
Will The Real Elvis
Please Stand Up
Are just a few of the sights that you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Thank you...Thank you very Much
Ladies and Gentlemen
Elvis...Has Left The Building
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 8:59 AM UTC