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False Poets Feb 2018
there is no value in a poem that reads
_____
_____
____­
M M l i f e s u c k s x x x n o p o e m i g o t

just

nerve; crap bs, a denial of craft

seek the intelligent intelligible,
kiss the sensational thrill that
emotion harvests with resonating tenses
that beg our brains to differ, sense

this claims,
there is no value in no words is
a hoax cloaked as art by the weak,
make thy metaphors metastasize,
my every cell, a preposition,
preposterous and precious and
comforting in their
privations and provocations

speak to us in alpha and
line our eyes wide,
with pictures at an exhibition
of a faun immobile and beauteous

let me hang on every word of yours and
let it be the raft that sees me happily
unsafe home

take your bs line poem  
shove it down your silent voice

this is not avant garde; this is insulting

p.s.  write me a smile and all will be_____
.
ok okay Sep 2018
Hang me from your balcony
So you can hear my fantasy
People only want to listen when your wrists are painting poetry
Push me off a cliff so you can make a tragedy
Tragedies make poetry
Poetry is lovely
Tie me to some train tracks
To create a mass catastrophe
Catastrophes make poetry
Poetry is charming
Life is cold :l inspired from 'life is beautiful' lil peep x
Chris Saitta Jul 31
Here hang the wine-sotted troubadours of sadness and clouds,
~Having played serenas to paramours lipping at the cup of an evening bawd~
Like tethered donkeys now with their packsong of pastorela and alba,
No more musical mensurations of the ****** Mary, Cantigas de Santa Maria,
But slung over the railings of dawn-blotted taverns or courts of renown,
Here hang the wine-sotted troubadours of sadness and clouds,
Like drinking gourds, their stringed citherns dangle from their shoulders,
Leaking the strummed honey-wine of sound like the retchings of the nearby sea.
The troubadour flourished in France during the Medieval Ages (circa 1100-1350), primarily traveling from court to court.  

The “serena” (evening song for a lover waiting to consummate his love), “alba” (dawn song of a lover), and “pastorela” (song of love from a knight to a shepherdess) are all song forms.  

The “Cantigas de Santa Maria,” the well-known “Canticles of Holy Mary,” are 420 poems sung by troubadours, each mentioning the ****** Mary.  

“Citherns” are essentially the precursor to modern-day guitars.
A Sep 2018
Two negatives drawn to no positive
Strings untied, white lying and provocative
Both completely out of our mind
Day 1 we merely improvised
By month 5 masks were off, no more disguise
Agreeing to disagree
10 months went happily
What ever happens is meant to be
Understand though,
This was never supposed to be
Inflicting pain is a kink we're both crazy
That was pretty clear to see
It was that same page til about 1 year
Next chapter brought distance, but still no fear
Couldnt resist it,
Locked myself in an unkempt cage
I'm your neglected pet
Whose tail still wags upon your
Not so frequent stays
Saying you'll fix this and sorry for the pain
Damaging my brain while it's me you've framed
18 months later and still begging me to wait
"Be patient, I almost got  my **** straight"
Using me as raw bait, enjoyed watching the chase
But you missed my back with your sharp blade
Spun around almost like a boomerang
Soon sharply planted deep in your face
Binge drink each noon feel our ending is near
It was way too good to be true
Caught every feeling you intentionally threw
I kept it too real
You said you did too
Push came to shove
Your shoulders just shrugged  
Walked away while I crawled out the mud
Let myself fall as you watched just for fun
Pulled me apart to keep me intact
Kept me racing and running back
Had me trippen over my own act
Won't lie at first I didn't see it like that
Shortly after month 19 I guess I survived, in fact
No matter how hard I fall
I always come back
Planning ahead cause you
Think I'm still coming for more
I took a hard loss but stayed keeping score
It's my turn, I'm gonna be on cue
Gonna skip the next few lines I became obsessed  
So invested in my crime, you have no clue
You've infested my mind now
Your debts over due
Invite you over not now but in a few  
We're meeting up after noon
Waiting, to the window my eyes are glued
Knocked one time
Quick to let you in
No time for conversation
Already towards the bed
Bet you didnt expect that steel pipe to the head
Down quicker than the lies you spread
Shouldn't have unlocked the cage
Should have left me dead
Near starving you left me un-fed
This heist is the only energy I've consumed
Sit you up nicely against the corner of the room
Now it's you that's ******* doomed
We're locked in here, just us two
Still unconscious from the fall you took
Wake tied to a chair down the hall
Now you're shook
My turn to torture you
No where to go we've got plenty of time.
Only thing is I gotta be out in a few,
I got **** to do but I might be lyin
You don't give a ****
So stubborn you refuse
Think life's hell, well it is and
You've been introduced to your devil
Short fused your fear keeps me amused
Starved for 18 days but todays gourmet food
Tease the **** out of you, but every so often still slightly please you
Made it to day 24 too weak to eat now
Tonights meal is your favorite
Fried heart stew
Don't cry now
There's no re-do
You ****** up
Untied you, no strength to move
This went all too smooth, time to retire
Day 35 so neglected you're ready to die
No energy left to open your eyes
I hope you hear me inbetween your faint sighs
This is the moment I had planned all those nights
It took you almost 20 months to **** and let me die
Still alive and only needed 1 month to take your life
Clenched fist violently forced down inside your neck
Bones break easier than one would expect
Stretch to pull my arm out, your heart has been removed.
Intended to take it but it's too badly bruised.
I gotta go now, so uh, get well soon.
The short story I didn't want to write because it was strictly inspired by you
aviisevil Apr 2014
.
.
.
.
.

Bite into my soul and taste your dirt,
inflict upon me your rules of hurt.

Make a wish in the fountain of blood,
take a sip and you shall conquer the world.



Hang me for all the world to see,
even in my death I shall walk free.




Show me the strength of your crown,
let me be chased by your blood hounds.

Cut me, scar me, tell me what have you found ?,
For you walk straight but the world's 'round.




Lock me in a cage so I can't leave,
even in these walls I shall walk free.




Burn my skin to reach my soul,
why break walls when I've opened the door ?

Come inside, take away all I know,
feed my hatred by hating me some more.




Erase me so I could never be,
even in my extinction I shall walk free.




Tie my hands and give me a blade,
tell me who my enemies are and war shall be made.

Whisper to me the words that degrade,
And I'll scream them at the world as I fade.



**** the lullabies so I can never dream,
even in my nightmares I shall walk free.






Now take my hand and lead me to paradise,
Fire of hell blowing through the kingdom of ice.


Sit on your throne and try to swallow your pride,
For this slave will never be yours for he's the master of his own life.




Hang me for all the world to see,
even in my death I shall walk free.
Notes (optional)
CK Baker Feb 2017
it falls through the glow of the wintery trees
building a cover under the breeze
luminous lights sparkle and hatch
snow pack high on the briar patch

pine cones fall from majestic fir
squirrel and robin rustle and stir
sitka spruce at tunnel bluffs
ravens roost on cedar rough

dusted peaks at hurley pass
snowline cuts the avalanche
fox and lynx are on the prowl
hollow eyes from spotted owl

cool winds up the valley trail
whirling snow from diamond vale
chilling flakes in candle hands
moonlight shines across the land

northern lights in krypton green
the sounds of verve are bitter sweet
curtains hang on a cold dark sky
counting stars, a lullaby
Gods1son Aug 2018
Trials and tribulations
Tests and persecutions
Trying times
Tormenting periods

They are all for a season
For faith workout reasons
My friend, do not cower
Let your faith rise like a tower

I won't give up
I won't give in
I won't cave in

This is my faith
And this too shall pass
Soon, I will look back and say
Yay, Season has changed!
Yes you will make it through this, just hang in there
Monika Layke Aug 24
My heart is split in two
Half with him half with you
Each believing love never dies

When you take me in your arms
And drive me out of my mind
There’s no remedy for the autumn bruise

Summer rains tap on my windows
My love is soft as sunshine
His wind smooth as the gulf stream
Her light bright as rainbows

All of the days or nights
I can’t hide all that I feel inside
We never do anything nice and easy

I see trouble on the way
Split in two is my heart
I know the end is coming soon

A hurricane brews
Half with you half with him
Looks like we’re in for nasty weather
Francie Lynch Jul 2018
#45
Draw an asterisk,
Then enlarge it,
Til it's the size of an *******.
Then frame it and name it #45,
And
Hang it.
Armand-DeamoJC Aug 2018
To all the goodbyes
I say goodnight
To everyone that dies
I hope it's bright

To everyone;
With a razor
Hand of pills
Tied rope
Dangling keys
Extreme height below
Finger over a light trigger
Electricity at hand
Open propane tank
Empty plate, with full glass

Stop, think about who you're leaving behind
I know my words aren't going to stop you, but just read
Did you bother to write and leave a note?
Is it worth it then?
Saying you're sorry, knowing you'll leave someone behind?
Stop. Think about why you're doing it
Do you have nobody?
Think about your opportunities that'll fly past
The chance of ever meeting someone?
Did you lose someone?
Think about if you'll actually see them again?
Being bullied?
Fight back, with whatever you have
Life shoved you down?
No, I'm not asking you to get up!
I'm telling you to get your *** into a nap
Think about all the possibilities that might not be
Think of all the opportunities and people in the future
Think of your legacy
Think of anything except the pain
Now balance the pain and everything else
Want to jump? Skyfall
Want to shoot? Paintball and games
Want to hang? Bungee
Want to overdose? Take 10% of it and party
Suffocate in propane gas, or blow up? Cook a nice meal, invite a friend or family. Surround yourself. No friends and family? Find a friend, build a family.
Want to speed wrong side of the road? Speed on the right side of the road and get carried with the wind, do it over again
Want to cut yourself? Cut off the pain and wrong influences
Electrocute yourself? Rather save electricity and watch a good movie with friends or family. Have none? Watch a movie alone, play a game online. Make friends, build a family
Want to starve yourself so you can get drunker and finally forget it all, when your liver gives in? Eat a lot more, blow off some steam at the gym and build a body that girls/guys would like, attract them and make new friends. Drink with friends.

I've tried many things, some of them didn't work out, or I couldn't stay awake longer. Create new dreams if the old ones died. Work hard for them. Achieve something
"At least leave a ******* legacy behind" is what my bestfriend, Steph used to say
"You can get out of this alive, but maybe a little ****** up, but anything damaged can be repaired" My bestfriend Josh used to say
"Life can carry you away without what you thought you needed" my bestfriend Divene used to say

Even more quotes from people I've lost in my life, so I ask you just think about it all
Still going through with it? Remember it's a one way ticket
I'm suicidal myself. Been for a long time. Just speak to me. Speak to someone. Let's fix this ****
Ashley Chapman Jul 2018
Pressesd tenderly,
your carnal flower opens,
its butterfly released,
hovers like a hummingbird
drinking from the bill.

Oh, I too would steal you away
and cage you happily,
to get under your black-fringed skirt; 
to see that pretty dress,
fly off once more,
and see you bare;
burned now forever in my banks,
a first sight,
of dark curls!

As I think of it,
my desire stirs,
but of us
I have already masturbated twice:
jammed,
hips pinned,
sliding over our wet perspiring bellies,
in our jungle heat:
'cause in the firmament of our embrace
- it's hot -
where glued we **** into each other,
stoking flames,
until sleep,
when we disappear from each other.
My mind crowds,
with niggling neurotic inanities;
yours with manic dreams where bed-wetting criminals in cages beg to be freed,
before better spaces overtake.

When I awake,
I am lying next to you,  
Gwen over the horizon of your fertile valley,
a mountain,
white and reposed.
You,
murmuring desire for me.
****!
I can't wait to answer.

It is late,
late morning,
and we are all half asleep.
You have your back to me,
as we lie,
rubbing feet,
stroking hands,
(the oiled bulb at the end of a finger),
your fine shoulders,
(that delicate but persistent bone in your wrist that stretches with pointed elegance);
as quietly inside,  
(warmly enveloped),
my couched *****,  
rocks us:
each diffusing into the other
like the early morning brew.

Lust and love,
closing-in,
which for a good while on edge had been:
the weeks,
days,
hours;
faint promises from afar;
sometimes a little closer,
our shadows in daylight cross,
as one over the other storms;
and once (or twice),
a sleeve brushes,
even better,
hair crackles,
as a speaking lip touches lobe,  
and for a moment,
taking in the other's scent,
a hint sublimely overpowers.

And these,
dearest of fancies,
are just some,
with which to penetrate your mind,
as you have mine:
the energy of my yielding tenderness,
inviting you to complete me,
as I spread for you with desire.

Much later,
those daring looks you have,
the way you walk our stage:
your beautiful elongated face,
those quick-fire arousing eyes,
your sultry self-assuredness,
your pre-possessing self.

I could talk about your couple,
of generosity,
reaching up,
beyond mere comprehension:
of the fact that I like Gwen
(his love gift for you, me);
but actually,
in truth,
I prefer to take this moment to make love to you;
to say how wrapped I am,
folded in your limbs,
in our mingling sweat;
how with your joy,
you touch my desires,
into yours,
so they flow,
run rather:
honeysuckle from your blessed nymphae.

You love my smell,
you say,
and I dream of gathering you in pheromones,
of drugging you,
of intoxicating you,
so once again you will find me,
take me,
have me.
Entice you once more like a creature from its shell:
Come!
where I can ravish you,
all of you,
lay naked to me,
flesh,
sinews,
everything,
your very bones;
those fine elbows,
those knees I would like to ******* over;
wash their smooth surfaces in my come:
from these cliff heights,
rain ***** on the rocks below.

To once more cast aside your socks and get at your toes,
to pour oil on 'em,
to rub and squeeze' em,
while in the moist cavern of your insides,
we ****,
half washed over by our own tide.
And as we do,
I quail,
speaking sweet nothings of appreciation;
from full lips,
your sounds return,
the hypnotic rhythm of your breath:
I engorge and in our labyrinth,
- the maiden and the bull -
we consume ourselves.

There,
Sweet Lentiform,
you did it,
you got me rolling in flesh,
lusting after your intimate parts,
wanting you in bed as I know you must have me:
pulling me on you,
kissing and biting;
my arousal in your palm,
pops,
as you run a curved finger over my nethers.

Lying,
lying,
side-by-side,
lying prone,
lying ******,
never unconsumed,
because,
please,
please us,
with more;
so rarely,
unfucked even for a pause,
nothing doing more than sleeping and carousing;
our sustenance barely enough to keep us at it,
an occasional comic thrown in.
Oh,
God,
throw the ******* comic at me,
will you?
Beat my ******* flesh with it if you like.
Anything to see you standing in all your pearly naked glory!

And if you can,
keep texting me,
so I can hang on your every word like a ******* puppy!
Beautiful
long-haired,
skin tight,
upright,
wise,
gorgeously wild,
woman ...
Now pull me by my **** into your **** -
where I love it best.
Shea Nov 2018
I walk with a straggle,
The chains become tighter with
Every step.
You see, this is my reason for
Giving up.

"You hold the key
to your own shackles"

I can set myself free,
With what ambition,
when my hands are tied?
What's the point of changing
When I've lied
For them to Believe I'm fine?

They say you can change,
They say it's possible to Believe
In something other than pain.
For this, I won't give up.
For this, I'll keep going
Until my hands don't reach
As low as my shackles hang.
Johnny walker Mar 21
Whilst laid at night In bed I'm laying In my thoughts of Helen that bring a smile to my face for I can see
us
laughing together whilst
laid in same bed that I'm laying alone In the bed once was shared by
two
And I'm seeing her face again and those beautiful eyes, she could say more with eyes than any words
ever
could
Oh so beautiful I no longer feel alone for I've still got Helen here with me for keeping things this way never allows me to feel
lonely
For where ever I go or what ever I do Helen will be right here with sat In the car just as she always
was when I drink my coffee In the cafe where we would both would
sit
I will hang on to every memory of her, at last through tragedy I have last found a peace a place of contentment free from the every day trails In life and happy I still have my sweetheart forever with me
I let never let go of my sweetheart go so she's still
with me makes me a happy man to know this
Morgan Mercury Sep 2013
I am not superman.
I carry around guns for protection.
I have killed many
And never was sorry.
I have stolen from men
who have stolen from others.
Do not look at me as a savior,
Not even as a big brother,
because I am nothing of a role model.
My wings have broken
and I don't even have a place to call home.
Pain is written on my skin with the smirk of a devil
leaving cracks all over for sorrow to sneak its way in and bury itself deep into my bones.
So give me hope because I'm not man enough to create my own.
I keep putting other's lives before mine hoping that counts as love
but wind up realizing that doesn't count as anything
Trust me, I'm no superman.
I can't even save myself.
I've burned my cape in the fires of hell because I've been there enough
to know I can't wear it anymore.
I have flaws enough to fill the ocean and I'm sick of drowning
and I'm tired of counting dead bodies
and I’m tired of swimming through waves I'm not big enough for.
So hear the violin and piano play my symphony
of the fallen man.
I never said I could fly.
I never said I could save your life.
I never gave up though.
So hold me tight and let me finally break and fall into the arms of someone I can trust and someone I know that'll keep my heart safe buried next to theirs.
I've played wicked games and lost too many times and now I just want to sleep.
I'm tired of turning up black and blue
But I'll do anything to protect you.
If you were never here then I would have ended this a long time ago.
I would have welcomed the salt water into my lungs
Or fall asleep in a tree and meet death in the morning as I hang in silence.
But now I beg for hope because I'm torn apart.
But I know am seen as your superman so I’m going to hang on with all my might,
And live this life with you
as a hero
as your superman.
Dean Winchester
Supernatural
Altar of false reassurance, symbolizing return, of the hat bearer
“Home is where you hang your hat.”
How many of you have the hat bearer hung on temporary walls?
During intermittent crawls from house to home
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2018
“there are no lines or lies in my writings
there are no definitions and
perception is only your truth”

Jackson *******


my poems are splats and drips.
you make them into paintings that hang
in your own private museum,
signed by you, truthfully, forever,
as first viewer,
and thus as,
co-creator


Nat Lipstadt
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jackson_Pollock
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Impressionist colors rising out of chocolate brown,
stretching chartreuse necks upwards.
Intertwining vines clutching each other in a desperate rhapsody of life,
all waiting to display their Creators’ palette of pure color.

Orchid and yellow chalices hold the morning dew
as all are christened in jeweled morning light.
With blue and white snow you carpet the ground
blanketing hillsides with hope of Monet.

Orange tongues of fire licking up towards the sun
while jade blades battle as new growth crowds in.
Blossoms hang full with a living harvest of yellow,
awaiting transport to another.

Stalks of dried grasses stirred by the August wind,
dancing to the rhythm of the warm stirring breeze.  
Summer now ebbing away in aged colors muted with brown,
returning to the muddied ground once again.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Stu Harley Oct 2018
where
to
find
a place
to hang
my
broken soul
where
i
hang it
all on
the
clothesline
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Hanging on to each day, trying to sustain,
as a spider on a web hanging by a thread.
Weaving our way through time and pain
left to hang by lovers, life and death.

Making my way through life;
strength and power of spirit take their leave.
“Be brave, chin up”, all clichés borne out of ignorance…
what do they know of me?  

Each must travel this journey on our own terms.
No flack jackets to spare us from hearts shot through by pain,
no maps to guide our way.
We stand; alone, vulnerable and lost.

Where is the one to guide me on the right path
through showers of pain and cobwebs that bind?
Let me see through this to a future of love and life.
Let me see you.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
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