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"gue" poems
On its back, The cockroach, In a jacket of red wings, Slender legs, And bulging abdomen, Like the tummy of African statesman, Its legs wallowing in despair, In the air, Stamping the spread eagled, Hind and forelimbs, Of the poor anthropod, Kicking and waving, A cry for the succor, To be freed from ebola, Or breaking the *** tether, Or un-doing strong bonds of poverty, Three districts under leprosy, In the domain of the bull’s eye, Where lesbians and gays swallow raw fate, Its salient manifestation, Then the cockroach kicks silently, Anticipating for salvage, But when the domain owner comes, He steps with full weight, His foot dressed in military boots, From the previous legacy of Che Gue Vara, On the belly of the kakerlag at Berlin Wall, Bursting its stomach but hopscotch, Spilling the white stuff out, Of poverty and mental dilemma, Amid hopelessness in future and history, As terrorism mires tomorrow, When China reigns today, At mercy of contemporary panjandrums, Moving from white to black And from black to face book, Killing those who fall in commercial love, As if money is the ***** for nuptial night, But only to go forth ignobled, Without making momentous affinity, In the realm of ill fated cockroach back-dom, Sending Mafousian Egypt to Swedish table, Without scorn and regard for true African blood, Where will I apologize? If the ****** bug Enters my head and heart, To blind my logical eyes, Only to open wide The senses that see and feel Religion and race; O! Al Qaeda!
0
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC
THE COCKROACH ON ITS BACK
On its back, The cockroach, In a jacket of red wings, Slender legs, And bulging abdomen, Like the tummy of African statesman, Its legs wallowing in despair, In the air, Stamping the spread eagled, Hind and forelimbs, Of the poor anthropod, Kicking and waving, A cry for the succor, To be freed from ebola, Or breaking the *** tether, Or un-doing strong bonds of poverty, Three districts under leprosy, In the domain of the bull’s eye, Where lesbians and gays swallow raw fate, Its salient manifestation, Then the cockroach kicks silently, Anticipating for salvage, But when the domain owner comes, He steps with full weight, His foot dressed in military boots, From the previous legacy of Che Gue Vara, On the belly of the kakerlag at Berlin Wall, Bursting its stomach but hopscotch, Spilling the white stuff out, Of poverty and mental dilemma, Amid hopelessness in future and history, As terrorism mires tomorrow, When China reigns today, At mercy of contemporary panjandrums, Moving from white to black And from black to face book, Killing those who fall in commercial love, As if money is the ***** for nuptial night, But only to go forth ignobled, Without making momentous affinity, In the realm of ill fated cockroach back-dom, Sending Mafousian Egypt to Swedish table, Without scorn and regard for true African blood, Where will I apologize? If the ****** bug Enters my head and heart, To blind my logical eyes, Only to open wide The senses that see and feel Religion and race; O! Al Qaeda!
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50
The world was never going to end in fire. It was never thought to. Now. Thunder comes on. The raincoat boleros around the street. Momentous, One two slow slow one two. Earth splits / an avocado, molten core discarded. In the southern hemisphere they are waving flags. Complimentary colors crawl up the sky tiding in. They are dancing. Ba-cha -ta, Me-ren-gue. Their hemisphere Charybidises, trees genuflected. Quiet. The puddles are sleeping. In the north. The hemisphere has run aground. It capsizes. All the bands are going down playing. Rain panics off the timpani prisming. The brass cherubs in the clouds. The strings red shift. At the equator, an umbrella floats: 1 bird inside it. She prays in single syllables. Help. Please. Quack!
0
Feb 22, 2011
Feb 22, 2011 at 3:10 PM UTC
The Umbrella
There once was a man named Pop, Who always went out to mop. He thought his mop was too chubby, So he went to give it to Bubbie. Bubbie went out to mop, When suddenly she halted to a stop. She thought her mop was too thin, So she dumped it back in the bin. Bubbie accidentally stepped in some gue, But didn’t know what to do. Picking her foot up didn’t work, So she went to call the clerk. The workers came rushing over, As to playing the game Red Rover. They went to get the mop, When surprisingly, they fell to a plop. They quickly picked up the mop, And started to swop. Bubbie’s foot came twirling out, Then Pop walked out cheering about. Pop fooled Bubbie, She now got really mad, Then Pop had realized, What he had done was bad.
0
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 2:50 PM UTC
“Pop and the Mop”
tentang melepaskan bervariasi ada yang perlahan lahan ada yang secara kontan! aw! ada yang sepihak ada yang masing masing pihak sepakat ada yang masih meragu ada yang sudah mantap ada juga yang sudah mantap namun pendiriannya runtuh lagi runtuhnya pun akibat hal hal kecil yang manis kalau dinalar pun tidak artinya terlihat bodoh memang bodoh maksudku akhirnya hanya tinggal puing puing bobrok tidak jelas berantakan abu abu menunggu untuk segera diratakan buldozer biar hilang sekalian
0
Jun 15, 2021
Jun 15, 2021 at 9:05 PM UTC
kalo gue sih ya
Da n  pen do sn t  wo k I  gue s  th  tho u hts  are  stay ng  in t e  id a  pr bably suc ed so  w atev r dam   pen A pencil's just not the same
0
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 11:48 PM UTC
Creativity Slayed
Jangan kegeeran Siapa tau lo nyari nama gue di hellopoetry Bukan apa-apa Semua puisi yang pernah gue tulis Bukan buat lo Tapi buat gue sendiri Gue emang pengecut cuma bisa nyampein disini Yakali juga gue bilang ke lo Sadar Lo juga pengecut Cuma bisa ngira Gue mikirin lo suka lo dll Mau tahu orang yang beneran gue sayang? Yang beneran gue suka? Yang udah mandiri Yang udah bisa mikir masa depan Yang gak manja ke mama papanya. Orang kaya gitu ada And i fell in love with him Not with you ******* -tertanda, cewek yang cuma nganggep lo gak lebih dari seorang pecundang.
0
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 11:14 AM UTC
Hai, yang disana.
what is it I carry that is throwing me this way a personal belief I couldn't bury in the haze the smoke's the only thing that showed me where I want to be a step ahead of lonely and a wave above the sea I'm not a haunted being like I thought I always was it turns out we are nothing but the end of what's become and I am ever sorry for the purposeless divide I know you couldn't feel it but I kept you like the time the pieces of forever couldn't possibly ignore the thought of this not ending was a plague that wanted more than we had ever given for we thought the night would bend with you and I together in a plausible pretend the seers and the doers are supposed to be the same without a doubt collateral for everything we claim I laid you out in fragments and began to learn your soul I'm not the type of person who will ever let you go I'll try to find a way for all the seasons that we sing today it feels like autumn but tomorrow will be spring and I will ask the rain to introduce me to your hands so I can fall asleep before I touch another man
0
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 9:51 AM UTC
The carrying of
Scales reflect the sound. Reptilian type of tongues speakin. Reaching out Reaping thow. Eating fowl. Spittin raw heat Fire magma like gue. Burst a whole town into flame Murdering all like he was spraying for food. He just tryna be creative dog But in that moment acted a foo Spittin so much fire. He will burn up to the tip top Thats what he do Flying because he big dawg Flying because of big ***** Eaten like a big hog **** em burn em live long.
0
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
Spittin dragon
Jadi kemaren gue rencananya kaya bikin puisi atau apalah gitu kan sebelum ganti tahun. tapi gue ketiduran. terus gue kaya pas bangun tuh gak nyesel amat sih tapi kaya ada satu beban aja gitu kalau belom post apa-apa disini. Jadi gue post aja deh first impression gue buat orang-orang yang aku sayang hehehe. tapi karena maleaes, kapan-kapan aja deh bye.
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Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 12:19 AM UTC
lol 2018