"gimmie" poems
it's the management
here to inform you
your lust has been hacked
we know what your thinking
what you hide
we are all up in your business
like cyber terrorist's
don't ruin your life with to much self respect
we are all watching you **********
to mamma mia meets a hundred shades of crimson
and fight club blood ****
while you ***
screaming
ooooooooh god
licking
holes and poles
like a pig at a trough
praying to be handcuffed and on your knees
sweating and hysterical, a red moon struck **** face
high on drugs
in a dream better then this life has to offer
life is full of yogas
***** pony position
bouncy bouncy
i'm the light in your darkness
i know what you do
i want pieces of you, you wont show anyone else
your sickness, is my own
you are my love slave
turning me *********
who loves to hurt you
who's the *****
who's the switch
your flawless
now
cry me a river
move a little bit faster and to the left
your **** is a cartoon
**** grinning emoji
bleeding shrieking
fu fu fu fu *******
your brains running out of your eyes
gimmie all your venom
***** movie poem's
*** tongue and *****
your mouth like hemoglobin jewelry
saliva diamonds
kiss that
you'll never go back
squealing smooth heat
breathing winds of perfume
love and pain
united by
tragedy and desire
by
the grotesque and the beautiful
like thirst holds stones
stop crying
you know baby
you look your best on the toilet bowl
shameless
a delicious little *******
that holds me close to life
like a baby to the womb
please
stop banging on the door
i'm using this stall
Thank you
The Management
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
unsuccessful potatoes & you found a tree in the ocean
i spent the afternoon digging, digging
my fingernails into my own fear of commitment
the fear of my own reputation
now the cat's in heat & richard nixon (the dog)
is teasing her with his trump card
she takes it
& squeezes it
very gently
then rips it open madly & snarls
& it oozes and drips out of her mouth
we all pick up a thousand pieces of a minute
i cremated my sister this morning & new spirits
arrived at my doorstep before noon
they sang to me of instinct,
whinnying about the antique zenith
up in cheyenne
"gimmie some secrets" she said
so i carved them
into my arm
into a minotaur's chest
into a giant looking glass
into a wooden boat
& i set sail for the sundial,
"there is no truth"
my eyes are wax & the ocean
means nasty filth
but everything is useless now
frogs carry high powered harmonicas
& walk into the spells of Poe
& into the hexagrams of Hamlet
i do not want to carry a pitchfork across
some godforsaken desert
i do not want to feel my own evaporation
while the real artists brood in the meantime
i want to waste away on a slushy evening
i will live in my armpit
& hate you
& never wear deodorant
"your mind is small--it is limited--why must you understand?"
Jan 10, 2012
Jan 10, 2012 at 9:11 PM UTC
you wanna be happy dontcha?
Not 'till I reach the state of Anhedonia
never heard a such place.
Well I guess that you've been blessed
Good cheer and health, good taste I guess
Seems Old Man your way's the best
But I wasn't taught the same
and i know you're not to blame
What the hell is it that it makes grown men drool
Well it's not the Bright Side but The Dark Side of The Spoon.
Blissfull Bafoons The Beguiled, miscreant, Fiendish Fools.
Dim Lit hid in Vastness of the last Lunar New Moon
Beg that you see and awaken. You and every one else awaken too.
how good does it feel to fly above ridicule?
Gimmie some money and ill show you old fool
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 12:18 PM UTC
I couldn’t sleep. I was lying in bed watching the patterns reflected moonlight made on my ceiling when I heard the faint beep of the kitchen microwave. I smelled popcorn.
I decided to fill up my water bottle and see who was up. I slipped on a thick, terrycloth robe I’d gotten from Lisa last Christmas. It must weigh 15 pounds and it’s so warm and heavy I seldom wear it.
I silently glided into the main room. Leong was standing at one of our two large picture windows staring out at the night. Her left arm cradling a bowl of ultimate-butter popcorn. Anna told me last night that Leong and her long-time boyfriend, who’s back in China, had broken up. They’d been together forever and had been expected to marry.
A bright half-moon was hanging high over campus, an electric ornament on a velvet background, its moonlight glint painted the world, like ice on mountaintops.
“I heard about your breakup,” I said, “what does it mean?” In Leong’s world, who you dated was of family interest. That person had to be approved, their bona fides proven - they had to fit into some long term plan.
“It means I can’t be tamed,” she said, with soft bravado. After a moment, she spoke again, more seriously. “It’s better this way - for now - someday..,” she trailed off.
I understood. All of our hopes are resting on someday, like so many wagers at a casino. I imagined some gambler, stepping up to a betting window, in an old black-and-white movie, saying, ”Gimmie 5 bucks on Someday to win.”
Something in her voice, a brittleness, precluded further questions. I looked at the clock, it read 3:47. I gave her a hug and yawning, filled up my water bottle from the refrigerator's filtered tap.
“See ya.” I whispered and headed off, back to bed. With any luck I could squeeze another hour's sleep out of the morning.
Feb 3, 2022
Feb 3, 2022 at 5:04 AM UTC
I called a friend of mine,
you see I've always scratched her back
you know and she's scratched mine.
What makes me crazy is that
she's always one to take,
she's always on the make.
You gimmie and grab
and turn around and gouge
out my eyes,
you talk real ****
you don't answer any of my whys.
My thousands of whys.
Well so long now,
sorry but I got to go...
Yes so long, it's been a slice,
shaking loose of you is like
putting down a vice.
Golden earrings and pretty bobbles
couldn't clean up your act.
You've walked barefoot across the floor, broken fragments of glass,
everywhere, and you were there,
but, oh so was I.
I was there too
I've given you my very best,
yes I've given you my very best,
and what do I get?
I get treated worse than all of them,
worse than all the rest.
I wish I could remember
if it was a movie or if
I heard it in a dream.
It doesn't matter much now,
Because when
I see you coming
I just want to leave.
Just like Dylan said, "A whole lot of people dying tonight
from the disease of conceit."
I've tried taking you aside
and softly admonishing you,
that ended in a stalemate,
what good did it do..
You wore my Austrailian hat and battered it black and blue.
You took my painting and threw away the frame,
I lend you money
and you drink it away.
I don't talk about drawing a line,
I just do it and
if you're in you're right mind
you won't cross it
unless you really want
the **** to hit the fan.
This conflict, I must confess,
well it can make me cry.
every time you
turn around
you're telling me another lie.
I feel a lot of ambivalence .
I don't want to hear you any more.
Some times I think I want silence,
some times I think I want to even the score.
Man, I am on
cloud nine,
look what anger does,
as if I'm in a fight.
I just get to average,
but by no means normal,
the only normal I have found
is the cycle on a washing machine.
I'm not sinkin' in a hole
that was dug real deep by you,
thinking
this old world is all ****** up
and
you don't want to play the game,
You'd just end up leaving me,
so sad and feeling so full of shame.
Do you love me, let me count the ways,
it's not that I don't care,
it's not that I don't want to be there.
I just don't know any more...
what's that sound
telling me I have fix it,
that I have to
put it right.
Now you're looking
to put me down,
always wanting
to start a fight.
You're acting so abstract,
while with me it's so 'as a matter of fact'.
Knowing no one has even half the answers.
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 1:44 AM UTC
the silhouette of two girls kissing
deep into the caress
deep into the tender
like they are plundering with feather light touches
in the flickering lamplight
the music drips through the dark room
like the leaking of bobby dylans mind
his voice torn asunder with spoken tears
with the gravel of a thousand hard roads alone in the heat
of an unforgiving sun
the girls are wrapped tight to eachother
like bubble gum wrapped in satin
you cant cast aside such delicate force of nature
it will saunter down and ask so sweetly
for you to take a powder while the girls get nasty
i sit on the hood of her buick
primer grey and fast
as fast as thick blood
and watch the stars dance on the chrome
and breath the thick air and see death dance on my fingertip
but most of all i see her silhouette leaning down
over me and sweetly asking
for my last breath
put cowboy boots to pavement walkin into the future
dragging the past that she wants
into the motel of the sun with its neon moon
where these two lover girls lay out by the pool
and soak up the sun till the world is in darkness
soak up the love like cherry soda
and plunder
the dance slow on the bed
while i'm curled on the carpet
but there's no desperation to be found
except in poor bobby dylan as he drips
like fine wine from the speaker
and intoxicates my dreams
with her eyes
with her thin bright wet lips
and her softly sweetly asking once more
to give it up honey buns
gimmie your last breath
silhouette of two girls french kissing plundering tender
so romantic
so loving
so long bye bye
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
and we put our hard earned dreams
in a wooden beach chair
and set sail
cross the blue blue sea
using seashells as hats
using palm fronds for tea cups
and get em all mixed up chasing paper doilies
sing you a song that stretches all night long
you spend the dawn clapping and calling for an encore
so we all join hands
and get another chorus goin
because that smile you gimmie honey
midnight and she stepped to the edge of the road
with a rubber duckie in one hand
and a lethal dose of reality in the other
she will use one to make you laugh
then she will administer the other one
cause that's what she thinks is funny
but that's the thing
reality checks always bounce
got rubber duckies on the brain forevermore
sneak down her road
with her hand in mine
and all the mister naturals in the world
couldn't be wiser than the cherry eating
little gnome in the movie usher outfit
sitting by the exit
charging admission back into the world
cause its exactly as advertised
its stranger than freakin fiction
and its heavy brother
sing you a song that stretches all night long
you spend the dawn clapping and calling for an encore
so we all join hands
and get another chorus going
because that smile you gimmie honey
they ain't got too many passion moments left
let em get on with their
neon green VW bug and its
fifteen clowns waiting in the trunk
cause if all else fails and she needs distraction
you can set up a tent and sell tickets
to the sunrise of her surprise
at how easy it is
but deep down inside you know its heavy brother
so you pick up a guitar and start to play
whatever tune comes to mind
and while chopsticks is better on a keyboard
your heart is hungry and chinese sounds good
she lights a kerosine lamp and holding up to the sea
all the lost sailors hoping to find their homes
stop in for tea and a biscuit
it all sounds like romantic gibberish to me
all this play for pay
food for gain
sing you a song that stretches all night long
you spend the dawn clapping and calling for an encore
so we all join hands
and get another chorus goin
because that smile you gimmie honey
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 1:01 AM UTC
My roommates and I congregated in our suite's great room and we’ll head out for dinner soon.
“Have you ever eaten dog food?” Leong asked Anna.
“No,” Anna answered, “it smells like chicken - it’s got chicken in it”
“OOO!” Leong pounces, “Busted!!”
“What?!” Anna reacts.
“How would you know that then?” Leong asks, doubtfully.
“My mom told me!” Anna cries, in self defense. “She’s a vegetarian too.”
“Your mom told you.” Leong said, like a prosecutor raising an eyebrow for the jury.
“I just took my last English class,” I report, pony-tailing my hair, “my teacher told me - privately - that my writing destroys.”
“Nice,” Lisa says.
“Yeah,” I say, smiling and grooming with pride, “I thought that was a ballin’ complement and I’ve been riding that high.”
“No doubt,” Anna says and nods.
“My English professor..” Leong says, exasperated, “is driving me crazy, I’ve written three final papers so far and she’s rejected them ALL.”
“Huh?” I gasp, “Show me one!” I demand, wiggling gimmie-fingers at her laptop.
“Here’s a question,” Lisa asks the room, “What would you change about your childhood?”
“I would have never grown up.” Sophy said.
“When I was in third grade, in the UK, a girl in my elementary school, was murdered,” I reveal.
“What?!” Anna says.
“Oh, my GOD!” Lisa gasps.
“Spill” Leong demands.
“Her name was Kennedy,” I begin, “She was in another class, I didn’t know her but I started to imagine that I’d known her. I’d think of her playing on the swings in a yellow dress, in daydreams and in nightmares.”
“I can see that,” Leong said.
“I was flummoxed, at the time, how a family could lose a little girl and a president.” I added.
Anna looked confused.
“I was in third grade,” I replied, ”what did I know?”
“Go ON,” Lisa prompts.
“We heard that she was walking home and got snatched,” I continued.
“Jesus,” Lisa said, shaking her head.
“Although I never walked home, I was careful not to be snatched for a while,” I summarized.
“I bet,” Anna agreed.
“That’s what I’d change,” I said, “Poor Kennedy.”
“People **** Lisa pronounced, and there was general agreement to that.
Apr 29, 2022
Apr 29, 2022 at 1:45 PM UTC
daylights body wanders down the cobblestone street
and falls on the old church steps
the friar steps out of its golden doors
and tries to sweep daylight off its feet
with a ten cent broom
but he cant get a purchase
on the shadows that follow light wherever it goes
daylights groupies are naked for daylights leasure alone
so the friar retreats afraid and muttering curses
at all the power and influence the church has lost
daylights body takes a powder from that strange place
and goes down to the shore
warm up all thouse chilly babes
snowbunny's massing on the beach
pale skin honeys needing a tan
all give daylight a kiss on both cheeks
how ya been babe gimmie a call do lunch
but his is a hot phone number to have
and you gotta stand in line
to catch a breeze in that company
daylights body is dying to take a break
so he slips on down
the back road
and kissing the girls one last time
slips over the horizon
be back tomorrow
is the sticky note in the sky
snowbunnys are here and its time to fly
up to the big tree
in downtown ft lauderdale
and see what winner gets the bed in the corner
under the all night gypsy choir
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 8:49 PM UTC
You are my doctor
keepin health up ,
gimmie what i need, when i need, without me even knowing i need,
letting me breathe.
easy rest, easy sleep, easy feel, slightly queasy or uneasy, steady me in the storm.
dock into harbour
take off the armour
hear my thoughts like no other
baby you my one time lover but my full time homie
you show me you care in the slightest of touches followed by dancing on clouds and deep sea trenches
we do the things for each other , your home is mine and mine is yours
this is what we feel like when we touch , to me ,
agreement in decisions - trust is golden
coffee and tea , gin and whisky , choice drinks
share a plate
share a bed
share our bodies
share our minds
share , share , share
to infinity and beyond !!
when we out - everyone knows it , we are a pair of lovers who love everyone
because we love ourselves , definitively.
True Aim.
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 3:26 AM UTC
Sometimes
I wonder what you’d say
Would you walk away
and let me follow in your wake
laughing about the feeling of your
rain that kisses the curves of your tan softened face the way I wish I could,
the very rain that seeps into the laugh lines of your eyes, the rain pools that cut outs of your smile
would you let me linger in the decadence of your sarcasm
would you let me sit next to you while you laugh
In that way you lazy way you do
when you
lay back against the wooden
bench
Or would you hold me close,
close enough to smell your aftershave
and let me see your broken nails
and torn calluses
close enough to feel your stubble on my cheek and feel your breath on my jaw
close enough to put my hands around your back and feel the scars that reside just out of my reach
Would you let me avoid telling
the truth to myself and shut me
up like a gull at night, so peaceful until it reaches the peak where night is no longer dark, and suddenly a cacophony of screeching worse than the alarms on the traditional alarm clock
or would you let me fall
onto an open-ended, double edged
question
sharper than a thumbtack and twice as rusty
Do I even have the courage to tell
you?
Or am I a molotav cocktail
and waiting until smashed to
crash and burn
Would you even let me open my
metal mouth and let my tongue
carve waves into your soul and tear you up
so you feel half as bad as i do
alone.
Would you let me read your
texts?
and ask me why she was upset?
or would you even come near me
I open my mouth to tell you
“Hey! I need to say something!”
“Yeah?”
“Gimmie a hand?”
You said okay.
that wasnt what I wanted to ask
but
You said okay
and smiled
like an empty glass of expired wine.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 1:38 AM UTC
Ok, gimme me your best day, take your best shot at perfection.
Our minds take experiences and press them grape-like,
into the intoxicating liquor of memory.
The vivid ones linger - unaltered - like youthful Internet mistakes forever posted.
Someday to beckon us back, teasingly - like bright, neon signage.
.
Peter’s off again to job interview (second round, in Geneva), he was only here two days but something of him remained behind. Oh, fingerprints for sure - but memories too - like scattered Christmas wrappings - or a poem.
Aug 6, 2023
Aug 6, 2023 at 3:42 PM UTC
he rubs his fingers slowly
over the smooth surface
chewing his lip
her vacant eyes consume him from across the small room
her naked sweat glistening and pulsating in the harsh
industrial light
there is only the low mechanical sound
of the machine as it slowly digests her mind
piece by inglorious piece
absent chewing sound he thought might have made this bearable
her lips are slack
and a single string of drool flows down onto her chest
her face is a livid smile caught in
the midst of unspeakable **********
and her fingers trace out the words
more...i want more, ***** gimmie more
but her plea is unseen by him
he just wants this to end
leaning over he wipes away the drool
and kisses her
she spits in his face
and digs her nails into his hand
placing it on the textbook
that teaches about pavlov's dog
she mutters 'woof woof baby'
she wants to have her mind
that has troubled her for far too long
to be castrated
she wants to be without the
thoughts
the terrible thoughts
that something could change
if the right sequence could be hit upon
if the right person could walk through the door
he sighs
and pry's loose her weak grasp
the machine has finished
she awakens
'is it over?'
'no'
'woof woof baby'
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 7:03 PM UTC
Gimmie that hat of yours darlin’. Let’s race up ladders to the top of the book shelf. I crave meaningful conversations so I outgrow this awkward stage. Like those comfy sweat pants I outgrew, the ones I never wanted to take off. They were too **** comfortable. I think you might be the one to buy me a new pair of comfy sweatpants; force me out of the old hemlines. Baby, this cliché is crazy and all those teen poppy songs never felt so true. Rip these hemlines off, force me into a new; let’s learn to climb these ladders together. And once we get to the top, let’s learn to fall because nothing hurts better than falling for you.
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:33 PM UTC
The two hidden cameras caught it all.
it was midnight, time to close the store.
he slipped two twenty dollar bills in his hip pocket
as he counted out the register...
As he dropped the days receipts into the floor safe,
he was thinking...
he wished he'd never borrowed that forty dollars from mom.
As he stepped out into the cold night he felt the pelting rain hit his
face... he turned to lock the door and felt something cold
and very hard press into his head...
"gimmie your money....now"
I have no money...
"Im not playing...now"
here...it's all I have forty dollars.
"broke *** *****
He never heard the gunshot, as the bullet deposited the front of his face
onto the store front...
Karma's a bitch...I should of paid mom next week...
As the perpetrator turned and stuck the gun back in his pocket,
he thought to himself...finally...I can give dad back that forty dollars I owe him...
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 3:21 AM UTC
I’m a bit of a sensualist.
First, let me emphasise emotional resonance,
there has to be an emotional base,
not just an appreciation of hotness.
Then, there’s a sense of longing and mystery—
that male unknowableness.
Don’t forget the hard strength of those rough male edges,
you know, the feeling that he’s kind of sculpted from
a marble that you just want to run your hands over.
And this jet-black hair, the curves and the spiky bits,
casual, careless, not fussy or particular,
and his warm, firm, implacable hands.
Oh, God. Gimmie some.
“Sensuality's connected to desire, ya?” I asked the room (Sunny and Lisa are there, studying).
“It sure is,” Sunny said, flippantly, “and you just need that hot boyfriend of yours to spank it out of you.”
“No,” I winced, “that’s not true.”
“Ooo! I love this song” Lisa said, as ‘try’ by BETWEEN FRIENDS began to play on our Echos.
.
.
*Songs for this:
this is what falling in love feels like by JVKE
golden hour by JVKE*
.
.
Our cast
Sunny, (suitemate) 21, a (pre-med) molecular, cellular, and developmental biology major, is a cowgirl from Nebraska (seriously, she has a quarter horse and barrel races). She’s an outspoken fem-facing ladies-lady.
Lisa, (roommate) 21, my bff and a high society princess, who grew up in a 50th floor Central Park South high-rise. A (pre-med) molecular biophysics and biochemistry major.
Your author, a simple, multinational, upper-crust, trust-fund baby from Athens, Georgia who's also a molecular biophysics and biochemistry major (pre-med).
Mar 28, 2025
Mar 28, 2025 at 8:39 AM UTC
I gotta, gotta new me…
**** so you really let this dude let me get high roaded
And you didnt mind looking in the rearview
The sound of that car sound so uncanny
Because it shoulda been us… but as long as your new vigilante
Will keep tribal dancing 'round your fire
And will keep making your blood rush
The band-aid will eventually fall off
It's all just a withdrawal!
Blrr, blrr, beep
Hey, man, wassup, how you doing?
Havent heard from you in a minute, bro
I know you've been cut
And how you been feeling like a storm drain just above water
But you know these hoes be looking for their own homonym
Haha, you get what I mean?
Yea, bet you do, but hey, chin up, aight?
Dont loose your groove
You'll keep grinding your teeth
Gimmie a call, bud, and talk about what's underneath
Peace
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
Gimmie one good reason I shouldn't turn 'round and leave.
Gimmie two beers and a shot of your finest whiskey.
Gimmie three minutes so I can explain it to you simply.
You're making it hard to leave here inconspicuously.
Close your eyes, you'll never miss me.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 4:20 PM UTC
Gimmie a thick ****
With a big ****
So I can nut
Before the deep cut
A pound of draw
Word I saw
Kick her out the door
Ain't seein' her no more
Drop that cold hard lyric
**** I give,call me a synic
I'm in it to win it
So gimmie a minute
Its not an apathetic mind state
I'm irate
Outlaw,land pirate
I'll drink a ******* crate
While I mastabate
During a mass debate
Over the fate
Of mans tied up,but wait...
Check the chick tied to the bed
She give good head
But when I said
I'd rather be dead
Her jaw dropped all irrational
She needs to liven up,I'm a cannibal
I'm a fan of all
Each creature with a mandible
Strip flesh clean down to the bone
I'll leave your family alone
Cos they clean out my zone
I won't atone
For the thing I do next
Mandem is vext
When I don't get back text
left feeling perplexed
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 10:51 AM UTC