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Spenser Bennett Mar 2016
**** the lights
Say goodbye
**** the lights
Say goodbye
We are nothing but fiction
A sacrificial supposition
But you don't understand
No you don't understand
A life of living in demands
I, a sacred book in a beggar's hands
**** the lights
**** the lights
We're drawing out the common end
A preamble to your life of wasted youth
Never knowing the end begins with you
Say goodbye
Say goodbye
Figure 8 of 9 is just time intertwined against the definite nature of your infinity turned aside
I just wish it was this easy
To let the world know
How much this means to me
A heart bound to bones of my own creation but it won't show
So just go
**** the lights
**** the lights
**** the lights
Say goodbye
Say good night
CK Baker Sep 2017
heads turn
and minds churn
as the old white knuckle
brings life to the board
facilitation (and procreation!)
become heavenly fit
for the
paradigm day

jitter men
and podium seniors
sit cocked
in the back row
front runners
bust a brain box
(their lines frayed
and edges portrayed)

truth makers tread
the center stage
(with a new and improved
product portfolio)
an evolution
of human spirit
in apparent
perfect form

sound bites
and titillating calls
echo from
the main hall
a wise man
on a poorly
timed exchange

mind sets moving
quid pro quo
and convictions
and revelations
all fun
and fundamental
(or so they say)

depth charts
and zodiac principles
speak to the masses
and timeless

we’d like a peak
inside of you

a glimpse
of your point of view
the turks and talking heads
speak of
grand design
and inclusion

class complete
(interpreted at the 7th sneeze)
please check those thoughts
and insights
the final answers
are coming
Do not deign to achieve.
Do not strive to suffer.
Aspiration is naive.
Forget the stars, leave the gutter.

Hope's a hopeless hobby.
Nihilistic mother
taught steely melancholy.
Forget the stars, leave the gutter.

Wisdom dashes all wishes.
In egodeath, discover
how free a nebbish is.
Forget the stars, leave the gutter.
We are not indebted
to Indian givers stellar:
stardust smarts our fetish.
Forget the stars, leave the gutter.

The stars eat their young.
Orion universe, hunters,
whose lotus lights stun slums.
Forget the stars, leave the gutter.

Do not deign to achieve.
Do not strive to suffer.
Aspiration is naive.
Forget the stars, leave the gutter.
He told me I,  begged for a black eye

I had it coming

It was my Fault

Black eye, broken cheek bone

I'm trash

I volunteer at a shelter home for battered women

It's so ******* clear

Swallow me,  push me down  

I don't care if you can't breathe

You fell  slipped on the cats *****

Lost a tooth

"How dumb can you be not to catch yourself when I push you from behind?"

I want to say I don't have eyes in the back of my head

If I did I would know you where a worthless *******
His Sweet love notes how I love thee. Sweetest guy I have ever been with.
zebra Aug 2016
on the first date
she confided in me
i have a chromosomal disorder, disorder, disorder
i need love and pain strangely mixed together
my elixirs
i suffer reality distoooorrtions
a ghastly Vatican of ****** compulsions
my soul is black matter
my **** a seething cauldron of despicable desire
my *** cries for homicidal cruelty

mold me into a *******
fold me like a two dollar beach chair
the wrong way
tear me to bits
unwind my intestine
eat me like a blood ******* ghoul
make me squirm like an anime victim

i thought oh finally a soul mate
with soul

strange as a Dionysian mad hatter on hallucinogenics
hot girl creeping
grimacing at me
meandering conjurations by ****** contortions
stunning impersonations of a Fellini impaling
shes a famous artist
keeps broodish bowels and blood tampons in stainless vitrines
spot lighted
ready for her debut at the
Museum of Modern Art

she blows torrents of snot like ****
her beautiful desperate tongue searching the upper lip
a salty runny viscoses snack
finding it finally with her frenetic tongue
feeding her gooey ****
with wet fingers
oh yummy yum goo
up her *** too

first smiling then hideous scowls
exposed teeth
posing with a knife
wana see me cut my self bad boy, she taunts
wana see my impersonation of pizza with extra tomato sauce

blood blood *** in the be in the bed
wipe it up with ****** bread

some how she miraculously bulges her eyes out
then performs, ******* lips as if a minnow in a fish jar

pointing to her ***
giving me that **** hurt me twisted look
how about a peanut butter jelly ******* sandwich
with a side of ****** feet
**** and **** on toes
its especially prized this day of the month
as her **** tears like a vampires mouth, a torrent of blood
pouting **** with white red stained thighs that break a mans heart
*** nothing at all she quips
just a little accident
do you like it?
as she glares like an invitation
to play slip and slide bare foot in her puddle of blood

oh she made me *****
my cherry red **** having a nervous breakdown
from apoplectic horror gasms
a dose of heavens hell

i want her
she is voluptuous like a dozen venomous snakes
copulating in warm soup dark water everglades
she is slither theater

curdling screams
then muggling *******
brought on by the first belly stab
falling to her knees
looking up shocked
mouth gaping
eyes wide
glance steady
holding holding holding
the belly cut
a cacophonous modern dance of agony
followed by rapturous convulsing *******
that went on and on and on

get a bat she implored

she is a real ******* movie star
the Greta Garbo of *****
a dark jewel
a must have
a hell wife
goddess of dread
a ******* *** genius
my best girl ever

fused by desire
we kissed like **** loving catholic priests
in adoration of their savior
young boy *** castrato hitting the high notes

she looked up with desperation
eyes with glittering tears
and said
are you my black knight?
do you know how to hurt a girl
are you my
Vex Mallus
Dr Satan
Marquis De Sick
Nick Nick
Dark Officer
Remus the Werewolf
Dom Sugar Daddy
Pit Bull
Tommy the Tummy Gutter
5 o'clock Shadow
London Cabby
Amputee ******
Uncle Surgery Gone Wrong
King of the Carpathian Vampires
my sweet kissy Kitten

ooohh yes i said
i am all that for loves sake
albeit twisted
i am what you crave.. your no taboo lover boy
your ******* licking foot slave with a razor in hand
a bubble of poison between my legs
your homicidal suicidal cockealiciousness

she said good,
now that we have that settled
can we go out for dinner
ill be dressed in a jiffy
if i can find my dead skirt
of soft white gauze
with that lovely motif of dread red
and my precious toe tag jewelery
My poems remain explorations of the subconscious ******
If i where a film maker or a novelist  you  would see me telling a story, not judge me, although i admit to my paraphilias  
These poems  are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive  impulses we all share
Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about and then again  you may feel more complete some how if you do....I always loved that dark thing that sleeps with in me
Traveler May 2015
We met in back alleys
Trailer trash, slum lords
We laid in the gutter
We crawled on life's floor

I traveled the world
In slumber and sloth
I bled the world dry
And nearly fell off

Treading grey matter
Until the quickening set in
I survived the world
Now a new one begins...
Traveler Tim
Rob Rutledge Jan 2014

The boy decries!
His sister beams at the call.
Heads it is and now it is he
Who would have to fetch the ball.


The word echos in silence.
A chance of hope lost
Somewhere among
The lies and violence.
Down in the gutter
On his knees he begged,
Pleading to a shadow.
Gunshot rang for the dead.
Kathleen Oct 2010
rescinding messages of longing and lust
cast off to the wind like a broken record
skittering, twisting down the street in early morn'
your laying to rest your tired conscience on me
like one of those lovers in a movie theater
brushed off like salt on a shoulder
twirled like a young girls hair mid flirtation giggle
i think we're dancing in the streets now
scuffing shoes against concrete
mind-melding as we soft shoe across the yellow lines
i'm kicking you to the curb
like a rock into a gutter
your blowing through me like a chilled breeze
shuffling past me hurriedly to another time
like a scarf mid swing o're a cold shoulder
i turn 'round swiftly to meet you
creative commons
I wrote a poem recently.
Not so much a poem,
more like a story;
a story of love,
kind of like a love story.
it was the best love story
we've never read.

There were romances,
some revelations
and resurrections...
even a few bruised egos.

a bayside view of
false paradise
if I'd ever seen one;
some dogeared page
ripped out of a
journal written in ink
and found in the gutter.

No beginning or end.
Just a thought.
A memoir
of a fantasy that should've just
and never had to explain itself.
note: Do not read.
guy scutellaro Oct 2016
(empty pages and snowflake)

     Jack walks out the door of the bar into the wind swept gloom.
     at 2 a.m. the gray desolation of downtown is gone.
     the rain has finally turned to snow.

     the cold numbs. A candy bar or spoon full of sugar will help
     but if the body’s caloric need for fuel can’t be met
     the legs become uncoordinated
     the mind confused and then uncaring.
     eventually, the heart stops.

     this is what becomes of love forgotten, of the things we  push      aside. jack stares at the  hill of white snow plowed to the corner.
      his dog would be back.

     the snow covers everything.
     it covers the old cars and the rotting buildings
     the sidewalk and its cracks.
     the city, jack imagines, is becoming an adjectiveless word.
     a book of all white pages.
      jack steps off the curb into the gutter
      and the street is empty for as far as he can see.
      he starts walking.

      jack disappears into empty pages.
Spenser Bennett Jan 2017
It comes and goes
Wind and laughter
Does it matter
No one knows

Bend to break now
Gutter phenom
Hated Hinnom
Oh and how
Nico Julleza Dec 2017
Every year to me, now and then
Families and hollies filled with merriment
Only steps away of the outside snow
Sprawling emotions underneath the mistletoe

Glisten, the pavement covered in hue
Journey of a thousand crystals falling anew
The icicle dew at the gutter lines in row
Constellation tales upon the sky-light glow

Enchant pines adored by ornaments
Treasured memories flew like a firmament
Wreaths to every door, signs of triumph & joy
Bringing glad tidings from God's little boy

Trains in and out of the winter-night
Gifts and glory offered with endless blithe
Hymns from a choir trailing every post
Greetings to an old friend even to the unknown
#Christmas #Holidays #ChristOurLord #Joy # Glory

Merry Christmas Poets and Have A Glorious new Year. Hope I'm not late..
The inspiration just came to me, and this is to be my very first Holiday poem. Inspired with many traditions and observation all around during holidays.

(NCJ)POETRYProductions. ©2017
Marshal Gebbie Jul 2018
How tenuous this grip we have, how slight our hold remains
When all around  loud braggards boast that power now pertains,
We see the banner headlines splashed across our daily rags
And redneck demonstrations cleans the streets of Spics and ****
When blood runs in the gutter as the battons rise and fall
And whilst taking tea in style the filthy rich ignore it all.
The blonde leader of our nation struts, postulates and brags
While the rest of us skive off around the corner smoking ****
Our  kids ingest confusion as they loiter on the street
Unknowing  our delusions make illusions held, replete.
How tenuous the grip we have, how slight our hold remains
As our allies shower cold distrust convinced our fault inflames.
What chance of clear redemption, what remedies revive
When truth is lost to darkness can our honesty survive?
Reputation cut to shards, confidences ******
That leaders of community no longer hold our trust
When white is caste as black and then to green and then to grey
And sanity refuses pontification one more day.
How tenuous the grip we have, how slight our holds remain
As twilight turns to darkness caste against a larks’ refrain.

The White House
HAMILTON, New Zealand
25 July 2018
Despair across the nation, good people sitting quietly in their kitchens not quite believing the chaos and disunity sown by the White House amidst their communities, not knowing which way to turn to seek reason, to seek an element of promise for the morrow.

Who would have thought this possible in what was once, the greatest nation on Earth?

Kristaps Sep 2018
We real cool. We

Skip school. We

Fiest fruits. We

Rake roots. We

Make mates. We

Ditch dates. We

Weep winter. We
Bait bitter. We
Fake foster. We
Gamble gutter. We
Save stutter. We

Dance alone.We
Chris Aug 2015
Some days you need
The rain
To sit in your
Gutter, or
Wash the roads
clean of your plans.

Some times the rain
Ends the day
And closes the sun
Behind clouds.
I didn't want
To go out

And on these days
The rain
Hides your own drops
From your face.
What a perfect place to cry.

What a perfect time
To say
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