"grimey" poems
Dirt . Grimey filth.
That's what you are.
A cheat.
A liar.
A womanizer.
I accepted you.
Into my heart.
Into my eyes.
Loved the love
You gave to me.
Accepted the disguise.
Knowing you were bad for me,
I took your hand.
Accepted the lies
You fed to me.
I still don't understand.
How you'd break a promise
As pure as mine.
I'll never understand.
But I guess that's
Just fine.
She's everything I'm not.
She isn't humiliated.
Or empty.
I still feel for you,
And you used me,
So simply
I give you this goodbye.
Breaking my passion.
To the one I once admired.
Take the pieces that you broke.
Turn my blood
Into fire.
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
The things Ive seen have brought about the things I aspire to be. Yes she inspires me to be all I can be. Tho, my actions are unpleasant today. I hope she understands tomorrow. I hope she comprehends my actions and statements like the lady that's long left this nation. She knew me better than me now no one can see this pain that afflicts me. The voices that drive my mental, insanity, is the answer to the question they haven't asked. Long ago in past I meditated on my sanity in hopes the facued of being normal would last. Self medication takes place when the ice hits the glass and the taste of ***** and codiene numbs me face. Tho now when I see her face feelings of love take place. I love this girl tho it hurts me. I see the anguish in her face sadly I have placed it deep inside of her heart. Though one day like alchemy I'll make love from the pain. I wish to extend my days with her, because I can't explain the extent of my happiness when I'm with her. Tho she's yet to truly know me the different personalities within me. The dreadful things I've seen, the caged beast that lives in my words, the worries of life, the twist and turns of my brain, the differences in each name. Mentally my brain is split in three, tho, physically there's only me. So she cannot see; that the poet brings peace to me, Jay is a few pieces of me the good the bad and the ugly that's what most people see, Jaykhuan is at the root of me the grimey, the dreams of people shooting at me, worse than the ***** I'm expected to be, and still smarter than the ****** trying to flex on me. So you see Jpoetry mends these words of pain sewing them on a string to stitch beauty in my brain. Jay always escapes but I hate for Jaykhuan to get out his cage. The criminal who hides the pain. Tho at night she soothes me happily. I've finally found what happiness can be her life and family bring happiness to me. So motions of devotion grow strong in my heart, but my heart hurts because I've caused pain to her. Tho willingly I'll endure to ensure that our lives will be drawn out successfully. I'll endure her pain the silent tears in her name, and hope the grand scheme of things won't turn her away. The drugs in my vains take away my pain, but can't numb the disappointment in her face. So I hope, pray, and believe that she'll learn me so she can see, can understand the actions that overtake me are not just for me but for us. It breaks me when her anger makes her cuss. Tho for us I'll remain tough so down the line this love will bring love to both of us
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
the story of the mechanic's hands that only knew how to break things
starts small and quiet
a feverish night in june
reaching out for the first time
in balled up fists
then palms opened to the world
in demand
then, pressing into linoleum
then, gripping the handlebars of a bicycle
then, wrapped around yellow number 2 pencils illuminated by fluorescent light bouncing off white brick walls
then, for many years, nothing but the cold metal of a rusty wrench
i said, i like your filth
teach me how to be grimey
you're only allowed to touch me with dirt underneath your fingernails
i said, i'm young but i know what it's like to be covered in black grease
these hands have touched many
held onto some
left none clean and pure, or easy on the eyes
in their calloused glory, lifting the pleated skirts
two parts of a whole that's only purpose was to destroy
i wonder in the time i have spent
hands under sink
body in bubble baths
fingers down my throat
purging a gasoline stained, black grease, mangled-with-wrenches childhood
were the mechanic's hands pressed together in prayer
did they ever get scrubbed clean?
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 6:40 PM UTC
Acquaintances and ... " Friends " ...
This Nonsense ... NEVER Ends ... !!!!
Who WITHIN ... " Your Crew " ...
Will Be There Til' ... The End ... ???
Who Are Those ...
Who You Can ... " Trust " ... ???
Who Will Make You ...
Want To ... CUSS ... !?! ...
Acquaintances ...
Are Often .............................. Cold .....
While ...
FAKE Friends ...
Will Come and .................................................. Go .....
When They See Your ...
..... ATTITUDE .....
Is ... DIFFERENT To ...
Their ... Simple Views ...
Do You KEEP ...
FOOLS Around You ... ?!?
Just So You ...
Can Have A ... " Crew " ...
of People ... Who ...
DEEP DOWN You ... **** ... !?!
Just To PROVE ...
...... That .....
You're ... " The MAN " ... ?!?
This Stuff I ...
DON'T UNDERSTAND ... !?!?!
They Won't Be There ...
When You Stand ... ON YOUR OWN ...
Or When You HIT ...
A ... TROUBLED Zone ... !!!
REMEMBER What Happened ...
In ... " Revenge of The Sith " ...
When They TURNED ...
They Turned SO QUICK ...
Jedi Died ...
Cos They Got ... HIT ... !!!
Just Like THAT ...
NO MORE ... " Friendship " ...
Friends Will Always ...
RUN Their Lips ...
Til' Your Life ...
Takes That ... " BIG dip " ... !!!!!
When You NEED Them ...
To ............. HELP YOU ..............
They Will ..... Leave You ......
Feeling ......... " BLUE " ......
Take My Advice Folks ...
PLEASE BE ... " Shrewd " ... !!!
In ... WHO You Have ...
Surrounding You ...
Make Sure They ...
RESPECT Your Views ...
... " Acquaintances " ...
Like To ... USE You ... !!!
TRUE Friends HELP ...
When You ... " Feel Blue " ... !!!
These ARE Words ...
You KNOW ... ARE TRUE ... !!!!!!!!!
This Applies ...
To ... FAMILY TOO ... !!!
Some Are NOT ...
TRUE Friends To You ...
DON'T Think Cos' ...
Your Blood Types MATCH ...
That They'll Choose You ...
Before Some ... CASH ... !!!
They'll Make A DASH ...
Just Like The FLASH ... !!!!
Once They've Got ...
Their ... Money Stash ... !!!!
This Is What ...
We've Now ... Come To ... !?!
Friendships Are ...
Simply .... ABUSED ....
People Now ...
DON'T Have A Clue ... ???
What Their ... " Friends " ...
Are Now ... INTO ... ?!?
Coc' or CRACK ... !?!
Or ... White or Black ... ???
Friends WILL STAB YOU ...
In The ... "Back" ... !!! ...
These ARE Words ...
YES Based ... On FACT ... !!!
DRUGS Will Make Some ...
Be Like ... THAT ... !!!!!
Friendship ... " ODDS " ...
Have Now Been ... STACKED ...
Like The ... " Cards " ...
In A ... MARKED PACK ... !!!!!
Maybe You ...
HAVE Got ... GOOD FRIENDS ... !?!
KEEP Them ... "Close" ...
Until ... Your End ...
DON'T DEFEND ...
... " Acquaintances " ...
They WON'T LAST ...
Long ......................... Distances ... !!!!!
They Are ... QUICK ...
To YES ... " Jump Ship " ... !!!
When You ... START ...
To TEAR ... A P A R T ...
Things INSIDE Their ...
.. CALLOUS Heart ... !!!!!!!!
SELFISHNESS ....
and JEALOUSY ....
" Acquaintances " ...
Give THIS For FREE ... !!!!!
This Is Why ...
I ALWAYS .......................................................... FLEE ............. !!!!!
From These ............................
........ " FRAUDS " ........
Who .....
TRY TO ... "SQUEEZE" ... !!!!!
ALL THE ... Goodness ...
OUT OF .... Me .... !?!
These Are ... " THOSE " ...
Once Known As ... CHIEFS ... !!!!!
On These GRIMEY ...
.... London Streets ....
I Hope ... By Now ...
That You Can See ...
Friends AREN'T ALWAYS ...
....... " Trustworthy " ....... !!!
Some Are COOL ...
But Most Are ... FOOLS ...
Who Are ... Simply ...
Human ... GHOULS ... !!!!!!!
This Is NOT ...
How I've Been ... " Schooled " ... !!!!!
I've Been SCHOOLED ...
To .......................................................
Avoid ... " Duels " ...
With These People ...
Who Will ... FUEL ...
....... ANGER .......
DEEP Inside of You ...
People ... THIS ...
Is My ..... Poem .....
About .....
" Acquaintances & Friends "
Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 8:29 PM UTC
i come home crying
tears slither down my cheeks
i am simply ugly
for my nose is too big, horribly wide and contorted
my eyes are too small, beads of obsidian on my pale face
and my chapped lips are thin like crushed scribbled paper
my forehead is too big, i could write all of this down on it if i wanted to
why must i seek validation from those who will never respect me, even in my purest form
but my purity is not good enough
society gazes upon me with it's large luminous eyes
i am sorry that my hair is not straight enough
or i am flat
and when i look in the mirror my reflection cries, its hands reaching out to me through the fractured glass
yet why must i weep
beauty is in everything,
in the smoldering fire which dimly lights my cold room, sending marmalade sparks across the floor,
in the grimey walls, grout growing in the cracks and spray paint slowly crackling off,
in the failed paintings, where the splotches of cobalt and splashed of marigold are too thick,
in the cheap foundation i slather across my face,
in the maths equations my brain cannot contemplate,
and even in me,
there is beauty
Oct 1, 2024
Oct 1, 2024 at 6:23 PM UTC
Evidently frogs lie in wait,
And the moon sets on stranger ground,
Than we will ever imagine,
Grey landscapes of endless twilight and,
Shifting sand,
Shadows that congeal into shapeless forms,
Gliding over dank walls,
Flowing into dimly lit caverns,
Filled with hunched figures,
Hundreds of them,
Four limbed slugs captured eons ago,
Growing wings and emerging from sacs,
Peering into neon and,
Farting occasionally,
Stubby limbs chained to,
Grimey floors,
Tubes running into foreheads,
Ruffling DNA,
Every so often we run into humans,
Who do not understand,
That they are only Earthlings,
This side of the Universe,
Night flies on computer screens,
Attracted to the light completely.
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 4:53 PM UTC
kookaburra war
cacophony at dawnbreak who needs sleep
not me
strong black coffee please! long sleepless night behind me,
longer day ahead
origami cranes
gather on the windowsill
awaiting the breeze
feeding virtual koi
one of one thousand inane actions done this day
sticky little hands
***** grimey, smiley face kindi good today?
Once upon a time,
So much latent potency
In five simple words
lay you, down thy head,
upon linen cool and fine
rest thy weary mind.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 10:32 AM UTC
The storm trooper costume was somewhat of a joke between us friends. When we were 20, we dreamed of buying houses full of useless merch that fans buy out of love for something, but really just feeds the capitalist machine. Those friends are gone now and so are those dreams. The apartment is bare and empty, save for rusty heater that groans like an old drunkard, the hard bed in the corner next to the window that lets in the cold winter air and the single chipped wood table that wobbles on its uneven legs. There isn't even a lighter for the cigarettes.
I wonder how much Darth Vader paid his storm troopers? I wonder what it would be like to be in that suit, firing guns at Jedi Knights but not really hitting anything. I wonder what it will be like to be on spaceships travelling between galaxies and different points of the universe at light speed, setting eyes on new planets and whole new species that may range from space worms to aliens with higher intelligence.
Then again, there was that possibility that I could die. I was part of an intergalactic army after all. I'd be no match for a Jedi and i'd probably have no idea how to work my own weaponry. You probably can't smoke or drink, either-- lest you wish to incur the wrath of Darth Vader but... despite all that, I'd still take it over all of this grimey ****
After all, anywhere was better than here.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 10:12 AM UTC
i can hear your hesitant silence
louder than an
atom bomb
and the sliverous little
glances
that weave between the
minds
i counted them
once before
when the wind
blew out your
lashes,
when your
fumbly words
and jumpy fingers
gave away
all
your secrets.
show me the string
that unravels the thing
ive been
hunting all day
in search for -
the mirror in the rain
that collects all the pain
for gain
that
ive been waiting
my life
for.
'bunch of student
pollutants,
faces sooted
in black,
fingers
grimey and sticky,
snatching the little
i got.
all ive ever wanted
has been a
simple enough dream:
to be happy
and sappy
with my lover,
my cream,
to play my part
and finish out
what i
started,
to exist on this earth -
serene
but there's this itch
i can't get
to succumb to a
verdict.
this is it.
are you coming
or going?
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 4:25 PM UTC
There's some dangers to the game, some times you gotta watch out for where you put your **** cuz some of these ******* out here have death traps. If you hit the walls right, she'll come back the next night, next thing you know you're in a fight. Who is this person? How did we meet again? **** I feel like I'm six feet under, maybe ten.
In deep, but not losing sleep. Still workin, going to shows, lookin for new ho's. That's the life of a **** or one that wants to be, if you try to graduate, you'll get closer to degree. And it burns when it's not fun anymore, and you realize you're at square one once more.
And you keep chasing a ***** an imaginary person, someone who isn't worth it. She'll find you. That's the truth. You don't have to look for it, cuz it'll scoop you, like a cyclone.
Take you places you'd never thought you'd go. And then it's all ove.
Never talk to you again, I gotta keep it movin. I got **** to do, no time to worry about two.
Your **** is grimey, triflin, that's the only words I can think of, I want to put a rifle in, your imaginary mouth and blow it, see you later, you're gone, explosion. That's all I think of when I think about that, two chemicals went bad, and now there's combustion. I gotta cool off, see you later, I'm going to another river, I'm going to chase some paper. The finish line is far away, but I'm going to make it, and if anyone else tries to take it, then I know they're just fakin. Goodbye for now for good forever and never, again will I think about that person I wrote about in the beginning of this poem. **** it. I'm out of town.
Dec 21, 2012
Dec 21, 2012 at 4:29 AM UTC
Voila!
A beautiful ******
Watch the delicate movements;
the serenity of spirit,
the feminine grace in her gait.
She raises a glass of water to her thirsty head,
crystal coolness against youthful lips,
curious tongue.
Vital and charming, she eludes all hunters.
She outsmarts and outruns the vikings who wish
to steal her mojo, her soul.
They want to skin her,
to feel her pelt against bare, sweaty flesh;
they want to mount and stuff her
full of formaldehyde and polyester batting from Wal-Mart.
They want to lock this majestic, innocent creature
in a cell
without padding, only harsh, cold bars
and stare at her nakedness with crooked grins on grimey faces
and **** her of her will to be whole.
Even worse:
they want to love her,
to hold this creature's hands
and write intense poetry of devotion.
These lunatics want to love this poor, hideous beast
who does not want the attention.
She is a monster,
a ******* abbhorred abomination of existence,
and they wish to court her like a little lady.
Pristine. Pure.
But they are only seeing a siren, a mythical form
better left to starve on the jagged rocks of eternity
than to be admired and held in soothing arms.
May 13, 2012
May 13, 2012 at 6:17 PM UTC
"The Queen's upside down"
you bemuse
I smirk at at eye-less face
hung up, lips to the sky, hung
from a picture frame on your bedroom wall
Why do they all have multicoloured hair?
I don't.
Mine's red.
Fiery, jealous, and fairly insecure.
Friday morning blues
How is it possible to feel sad
on the happiest day of the week?
Saturday morning is where I want to be though
grimey and exhausted in your bed.
I sit outside because the empty skies make me closer to you
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 9:50 PM UTC
Sounds like:
you know,
got a head in a musky chiminey
you and me
we're not so different
not so evolved
just play **** erectus
walking tall on all twos
but our minds are a stew
filthy, grimey
yum
want some
?
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 8:19 PM UTC
A sudden burst of sound jolts me from sleep,
I am now awake and listening closely,
my room is dark and the streetlights outside are all burnt out,
car doors close and someone swears outside my door.
The home alarm beeps and I know mother is home,
and through muffled voices I hear her and my stepfather,
I poke my head out my door and can see her defensive stance,
she is ready to explain her late arrival,
dressed in nice clothes and her hair still groomed,
a stark contrast again her grimey boyfriend with stains down his front.
It is the same as usual,
an argument about the workload divide in this house,
mother is crying and her lover is screaming,
and neither consider the children watching.
A turn towards the stairs and I close my door,
I climb back into my bed and his words burn into my skull,
and mother’s crying as permanent as always,
my room is dark and the streetlights outside are all burnt out.
Always defensive and never offensive,
mother will never have control of her life.
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 11:18 AM UTC
Hazy houses only contain helpless hope masked by chemical....
Broken bottles like souls remain at our feet on grimey concrete...
We smile thru deceptive instruction
to rally rebellion .....
And like we challenge ourselves we shuttle towards deadends ....
But this is as happy as we can achieve with tempory friends...
But fatigue and famine contain the way our hell ends....
If we could have just believed in upstairs cellars...
Maybe we wouldnt have eased our way down into lower levels..
But welcome mats litter the basements we exist...
While we take another hit .... I kinda remember the things i miss...
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 11:33 AM UTC
bird **** plummets onto the roadway pavement as pedestrian traffic moves through the crosswalk intersecting Johnson and Douglas, vaguely luminescent from the bright of the sun until they transit beneath the awning shadowed canopy of a downtown tree planted on the sidewalk and disappear around the sight-block of an old redbrick corner building now refitted to host a Burger King, its windows grimey with human sweat grease and fast-food fast-life apathy.....
// // ... // // ... . and as I open my eyes, I realize it for the visceral memory it is; a waking memory-dream of the job I once held at a smoke-shop downtown. A job obtusely abandoned with no more than a crisis-ridden "sorry-goodbye-so-sorry-goddamnit-goodbye." These strange internal replicas of days spent in hours sitting, waiting, small-talk drenched in my own irrational impatience at everything-at-once, habitually referencing death as a way out from the hollow auditorium in the back of my head where all my thoughts lose themselves amongst their own reflections in an endless hall of mirrors. These are the only souvenirs I possess from the end of an era.
Life has simultaneously come and gone. Death and birth manifest in every moment. Dapper conventions leave a framework in place while I peep through the wide open margins where walls and windows should be, wondering if the jig is finally up.
Long before both my birth and the birth of Christ, Heraclitus wrote:
"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man."
and just as it is in life experienced, so it is in the grand rivers and overlooked tributary streams of memory quite the same.
And though it may not be the same river nor I the same man, the flow of both is contiguous with all. This I know for certain.
Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 12:57 PM UTC
Gather it up from the bottom of your belly,
use your calloused hands.
They’ve seen a lot,
and they can reach deep down into the thick of it.
Soil your fingernails,
like a cat kicking up its heels in the litter box,
fling it all to the wayside without remorse.
Exhale that grimey charcoal soot.
Purge it out, and let it ******* go.
It’s been building for some time now,
And you know it weighs you down like rocks.
When you go to speak--
and it stutters from your mouth,
like there’s a concrete glacier in your chest,
and nothing makes any ******* sense.
That ugly ***** pain again, and all that ******* shame--
Simply for feeling anything at all…?
Layer upon layer, and another one again,
like a ***** sheet that covers the light.
It’s the dust on the bulb--(and it’s) clouding your vision.
Wipe it clean.
This time, you might need bleach.
Yes, there was that deep inner knowing,
and no matter how many times it said ‘No more’
literally pleading with your soul,
screaming ‘No ******* more’
you just ignored it, and plunged deeper down that hole.
Graceful as a swan would,
You left no scraps behind.
Not one solid tether to reground,
You forget to consider the potential aftermath,
And just spit freely into the face of the ******* wind.
None of it mattered, because you smiled.
And It was beautiful,
as you told yourself, this is bigger than me.
Suddenly, with your muscles, bones and blood fused together,
all one in some corporal kinetic wave...
You melted into putty.
And it felt so good, for a few months.
...what’s time anyway?
But you know what else?
You were malleable,
And you let yourself bend, bob and weave to someone else’s will…
Here and now though… there’s space;
And now you know where to find the line.
So recognize the concert of compromise…
Because your flesh is not clay in another’s palm.
Your soul is not the tar and texture.
So please don't let that truck pave it down into asphalt.
It might look smooth from the outside,
But it’s so hard and beneath, it’s just dirt.
There’s no truth there.
None of it is as precious as the soil you were born with.
My love, stay true, and let those shiney magnetic things go by,
they were never meant for you.
Just exhale, and let them go,
there’s nothing left here to cling to.
Believe it.
Something far better is coming.
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 9:20 PM UTC
I sit in a lukewarm bath
cradling unshaved legs.
Quietly rocking back and forth
as water splashes in my face.
I quickly sink under the surface
holding onto grimey walls.
Choking and resisting
the desire to end it all.
Hands began to shake
with great intensity
liquids flood my lungs
it's getting hard to breathe.
Everyone stands there watching me
laying frozen and still.
My lips turn dark purple.
This ride has been a thrill.
Dec 17, 2019
Dec 17, 2019 at 11:41 PM UTC
I wrote you a poem.
You said that you liked it.
I added a ****
You could say that I spiked it.
You left me no comment.
You said not a word.
Now it sits there unwanted.
My poem's now curd.
I could write you another.
A little less rhymey?
Something romantic.
Not nearly as grimey?
I'll leave out the ****
The ***** and the lows.
I could write you of sorrow.
Of heartache and woes.
Just tell me dear reader.
What do you want?
Love and raw passion?
Except leave out the -unt?
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 10:38 AM UTC
fungi sunshine ride try time
grimey-find me-blinding--house couch tv--remote variable-gruesome food spoonfed by joanna newsom
singing in the key of airplane noises--make-shape-exorcise fate from cups half full of lulls and binary--hi-bye--lycanthropic soda dealer guilt tripped by the full moon--cool dude though-fun crunch curmudgeon stuffing love into guts-upchuck-punch drunk-cousin to state vector wreckage-barbecue-hard to loot-heart over headaches--family-friendly--revelry-devil setting clocks back--watch-lost and boundless-child in a wilderness--eat-eat-drink-shit-piss-piss-pistis-missing person surgery--blind forensics-thick skin---little bitty mystical-sit down
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 9:32 PM UTC