"hards" poems
It's hards for some to believe.
That many us of has no jealous bone within us.
Especially us truly in love.
Some people always jealous.
Jeaous of the woman that can get a man.
Or the man constantly with a woman.
They always jealous.
Some people always jealous of others people breaks.
Although the same opportunity exist for us.
Sure some catch a lucky break quicker than others
And you'll find some people always jealous.
It could be a brother.
It could be a sister.
It could your lover.
This emotion ruins many affairs.
Where it seems people over cares?
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 9:18 AM UTC
Imaginary adversaries are emanating from the alcohol to facebook walls, in temporary solutions for the vibes polluting my constitution, in the willful regrets atop my onset of contempt itching my temples cleft in my futures vision of itself.
I am myself and to no-one else do i answer unto hallow cancers ******* my bones away, and my mind astray in the straight laced fates of the other players who played their cards right, the same.
I go all in with the pocket deuces, atop intrusive verbal abuses, serving useless satire to the tired faces of try hards, bleeding of inadequacy.
Im a runon and on sentence of rambling weaponous vapors from the fragrant flatulence breaking from deflating colons, swollen like Noland's ego, when hes drunk and grumbling about life, lolling as he whines of the wines flavor, savoring the bitter for betterment of the sweet, neatly wrapped in sheets of plastic for later.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 11:20 PM UTC
Jesus jizzes holy juices,
That you people gently rub upon your faces.
Liers lie to protect that which they deny,
To the lavished living people.
Why won't the sun set,
On this selfish age of *****
I'm tired of these try-hards taking over,
My rightful territory.
Come hold my hand,
As we hoist our way to Heaven.
We'll need to step on some somebodies,
To sleep with the silver lining.
All I need is the native nature,
Of the not so naive heart.
Can anyone help me heal,
These horde cuts from hell?
Let's all do the calm camel,
And claim the dunes of the cautious for our country.
A country we all call America,
The anticlimactic antagonist that aims for anarchists.
Words will always be that way,
Of the world's wary warriors of peace, protection, and self worth.
And with that I say,
So long.
Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 3:36 PM UTC
Sudenly
I find love in you're eyes
for the first time
there is wormpth beneith you're hands
those hards dangerous hands
tenderley yet hungerly
coress my skin leaveing me yet again borised
only now I'm kissed by those lips
lips that ounce crussed me
leaving holes in my soul
holes that I never thought would heil
now they kiss me & it's the worst thing you could ever do
becuz tomarrow will turn back the hands of time
& I will live yet again in yesterday
where you're hand will bruise
me and you're words will eat a hole in my heart 100 times more then ever becuz now even after the *** runs dry
I
L
O
V
E
You
Dec 21, 2010
Dec 21, 2010 at 9:48 PM UTC
its the rip comin' up
with much reps i keeps my eyes on the prize
g'yeah i improvised on a uprise
cuttin' all the dead weight competition
my ammunition keep suckas in suspension
or lock down when i come around i clown
with the homies and the homettes
got the wet wet to get my brain set
for a drive-by suckas slippin' 40 sippin' 4 dippin' hittin'
multiple switches laughin' at these
punk sons of ******* unload my clips
throw there bodies in the ditches
cut off they ***** n leave it in they mouth
so they know the south
aint no joke loc cuz we smoke
suckas til they wesley snipes color brothers
like me bound for the penitentiary
its a gang were all the low-lifes hang
but things don't ever change
im trapped inside a maze with much blunder
i could've have been successful maybe
if the hood didn't take me under!!!
so many after me cuz we enticed to the same
epitome rap is mind my mind is rap
can't shake the flaks
see my homie in the caddy rollin' with tha **** daddy
gangsta mack kickin' drag to all the hoes with big *****
skipped hardknock classes
went straight to hoods college gainin' knowledge
graduated with honors
from the big timers tellin' me how to make a move
and don't get caught up in the groove
u gots to play it smooth
and be vigilant on ya closest friends
cuz they'll pretend to be ya homies but after ya dividends
thinkin' this bank roll they gone spend? but i lends
my lue to no one only a gun
up in ya grill piece thats the only peace
i see you laying and becomin' one with death
heartbeats slow no hards breath
when i commence to ****** know ya never heard of
me cuz i strike unexpectedly im makin' money
by the ton thats on the one son
ull catch me rollin' in a pimped out 97 honda
maybe id be better off dead if the hood
wouldn't take me under!!!
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 6:57 PM UTC
Baltimore
this is a love poem.
Baltimore
this is a break up poem.
Baltimore,
I remember
when I first
fell in love with you.
It was 2012
I wandered around the city
taking ****** pictures of street art.
Took free public transit.
Spent the afternoon
at the old, old red Emma's
back when it wasn't bougie.
Baltimore
I knew what you were
but I couldn't help it,
I fell in love.
Baltimore
I remember courting you,
thinking maybe I could call you
Home.
You
Greatest City in America
you
both
gentrified
and
run down
all at once.
In 2014
you held me
through my numbed out days,
through my drunken nights.
You
with your ****** transportation
that might or might not arrive.
You
with your gentrified Hampden
where I once heard a white man say he felt
"So safe."
You
with your burnt out building I climbed
with a girl
who'd one day leave me behind.
You
with your street cats,
street rats.
You
with the Royal Farms
that sold cheap Mikes Hards.
I could barely love myself,
but
I still loved you.
Baltimore,
I need you to know
that I will always care for you,
but somewhere along the way
something broke in me.
Baltimore,
you held me then,
still hold me even now,
but it's getting time
for me to move on.
It's not you,
it's me.
My restlessness,
my ungratefulness,
of what you've done for me.
My inability to value
potential stability,
potential community.
It's not me,
it's you.
It's all the same with you,
same scene,
same bars,
same parties.
Baltimore,
I love you,
I really do.
Baltimore,
I'm sorry,
but we need to take a break
long-term.
Need to start seeing
other people.
Don't cry,
it's better this way.
And besides,
you're not,
could never truly be
home.
Baltimore
this is a love poem.
Baltimore
this is a break up poem.
Baltimore,
maybe one day
when the dust settles
we can be friends.
But for now,
I need to leave.
I love you.
Good bye.
May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 6:27 PM UTC
Listen to stories as I spill
Cuz this something that's too **** real
Hard for you to dodge my lyrical collage
So step with me into this reality first
I woke up then I looked up
I see it's a l
Past quarter to nine
And woodys on
At twelve
But forget that verse cuz it was only the spirits in a thirst
Called up a few homies while I'm laying in the bed
Watchin' Wilma and Fred then a thought occured to my head
I told my boys we should go out
Maybe a stripper club or diner
But either way we need to roll out
So I got dressed made sure I was good looking
Check the mirror even it was shooken
Got a make move moving real fast ya see
Cuz I gotta my Posse to G -E -T
My Posse on MLK My Posse on MLK
My Posse On MLK
Now once I pulled up in the big black truck
Ya know the big Tahoe where I tie hoes? Get it
Naw I'm just clowning thinkin a groove so we can start soundin'
Off to beat our vocals meet
We acting real silly up goes the dilly
They playing throwback of Magoo and Timbaland on the track
Way back up jumps the boogie all in me
Now I'm amped with my Posse
We ready to get it crackin'
And no stoppin' us G
Like Reggie Miller on three top of key
Where we all love to meet
We check each other make sure we fresh
Cuz the girlies love to test the way we dress
So we now in the street bass bumpin' with the beat
Gotta admit I had to roll up a swisher sweet
Nothing to see here haters cuz we gettin ready to raid ya
My Posse on MLK My Posse on MLK
My Posse On MLK
As we make into the club I'm feeling real good
But I hate that songs scrubs
Girls stop fronting djs cutting
Got everybody in the club jumpin'
Mens is grinding on girls behinds and
And there me and posse in long line and
Next thing ya know they move us to the front row
VIP status man I'm feeling the baddest
Once we got on set
I told the dj to change the rec so I can show em
How cold me and posse gets
Once I touch the mic their was a long silence
Microphone screeching
But stop once the rhymes started preaching
Everybody nodding having a good time
Out comes the rhymes break em every time
Throwin' hards thrills so ya better chills
Or else my Posse going to rearrange ya grill
Now that ya in a trance with my music
That's makes ya dance
And all this time they had nothing to say
Cuz my Posse to Ill from MLK
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 12:49 AM UTC
Sudenly
I find love in you're eyes
for the first time
there is wormpth beneith you're hands
those hards dangerous hands
tenderley yet hungerly
coress my skin leaveing me yet again borised
only now I'm kissed by those lips
lips that ounce crussed me
leaving holes in my soul
holes that I never thought would heil
now they kiss me & it's the worst thing you could ever do
becuz tomarrow will turn back the hands of time
& I will live yet again in yesterday
where you're hand will bruise
me and you're words will eat a hole in my heart 100 times more then ever becuz now even after the *** runs dry
I
L
O
V
E
You
Nov 25, 2010
Nov 25, 2010 at 5:15 PM UTC
The alcohol that you measure in your graduated cylinder
is not the alcohol you binge drink on the weekends,
is not the alcohol your parents drink out of elegant crystal,
but they all burn.
Burn like the knowledge that knowledge gets you swallowed into the abyss of faceless statistics only to fill up the remaining desks left by those who care too much not to.
Life is too short to worry about why 1, 2, 3 has turned into your abc's while life screams just shut your textbook, please. There's love, and *** and drugs just waiting for you to realize that school rots the brain, not Mary Jane.
But Mary Jane still sits with her nose in a book, knowing life doesn't end when the graduation caps fly up,
up,
up to the top of her class, because money may not buy happiness but without a solid education financial stability is a joke, and it's a matter of time before you crash and burn,
burn like the alcohol in your red solo cup, chugging away the inevitable:
life is wasted by the try-hards and the try-nots.
The geeks and the nerds whose potential is squandered by the system, teaching them how to read rubrics and recite rhymes and reiterate the same ******** spoon-fed to them by those who failed to exceed to the limitations of the textbook.
The hippies, the druggies, the ones who can be found in the dark hallways and back rooms and hugging the outside walls all see the futility in it all. so why not jump out of an airplane without a parachute because each joint only lasts a few puffs, and the high only a few short blinks until you are thrown back down to earth.
High school reveals how you will survive life: in one impetuous bright burst or one prolonged apathetic smolder. But all the blazers and all the late-night homework-doers will have to put out the flame or turn off the light sooner or later.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
(I this very am a contradiction to itself)
this which is
the very thing i am
is not at all a multitude of singularities
but a single multitude of multiple singulars
i am large
and small
and enormously
a colour daft as starry days
and brightly nights
and with pale meter
my hards are soft
and softs are hard
(and i am like an onion
in petals of purple skin
an acrid flavour imps
my beam of darkly
steeply cooler hotter
breaths that buzz
like wondrous flies
in ample valleys or
cotton pasted flesh
in denim
)your jeans were on my floorIfoundthemthismorning
and i woke up to call you just so i could touch your voice with my ears
and kiss the treble of its throat with my gangling soul waxing profusely
with sparks of verdant poems blossoming in the uncommon pit of the stomach of my gross futile blithe brain because you made them with the
errant tattoo of your slight and tremendous music bustling its enormous
yawn over the roof of (my) rainbow hard heart that would like to comment in Your plunk of navel ringing tiny glittering barely hairs my smooth and
pinkish crumpled crumbs of love and sprinkle you with careless *** sometime maybe SWOON.
Apr 26, 2011
Apr 26, 2011 at 8:20 PM UTC
My sweetheart our honeymoon is just in the cards
We are not ordinary lovers, extraordinary die-hards
In our own domain of love we are but real lords
Sincerity in love my love brings all good rewards
Let celebrate our love in the midst of colorful lights
Let beauty and love in chain achieve eternal heights
Let make our days wonderful and tasteful nights
Beauty indicts and excites in trance all love insights
Love surpasses beauty and beauty surpasses all
Let me take you on my love and in love let recall
On snowy mountain came to cover lovely hot shawl
Heart and soul gone to dangle and dance in enthrall
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 2:50 AM UTC
We were listening to California Love when your friend left my room at midnight
and you decided to stay longer and move onto the single bed of my dorm room.
I didn't ask for you and I to be alone in my room.
I didn't ask for bruises on my neck or a permanently locked door or a situation I never thought I'd end up in—
but somehow I ended up with them.
You want to be a model and it shows—
you wanted photos on your phone
of us making out before i kicked you out of my room
with a smile on my face because violence
is scarier when you could reciprocate it
(i know you're not above that).
you started crying because I am "so beautiful,"
taking off my shirt
"too beautiful to pass up."
"Like Barbie"
It took me twenty minutes to convince you to leave
with California Love playing again on my laptop.
California only loved you because they love ****** up try-hards who did too much coke once and dropped out of university.
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 7:14 AM UTC
Soaked by the rains
and poked in the eye by the people
as I flow into the drains
and what do they gain
from the pleasure of seeing poor men feeling the pain?
In the laundromat where I dry off my pieces and start to think that
the World is unfair
and I'm afraid of drying my hair in the drying machine
because the temperature's hot
and I've only got a couple of quid
just enough for a bottle to get rid of the taste
that I taste in the waste and the water of streets.
It's a rinse and wash cycle and around I will go
into the jaws of depression where everything's so
down
and down on a template where nothing is rated and I don't even count
I am mounted on tape and put in a booklet and in case I forget
it's available on Amazon,
The story of John and the the things that went on
in the cul de sac where there was no hope of heading back
and the lack of direction which was locked in suspension
and extended detention.
I have a secret
do you want to know?
would you like to travel down avenues where the junkies use
daylight as a midnight binder
would you find in it something to make you think you'd bring the answer to a table
could you allow for the language that melts even plastic and the discarded cards of the die hards and addicts and if you picked up the lingo do you really think that you'd go into the den of the demons?
Do you want to follow through shallows and into the bellows of bellowing madmen who with not a thought of the where or the when just the now and the how and the eyes that would grace you then steal as you walked through?
In this soaked state I am in where the sin starts to dry and in quite equal measures to the amount that I cry
there is always a why and a solution to buy
but it's always too late
for the few who can't wait
and the rain keeps on coming while those people keep running
and I flow down the drains.
Jun 15, 2013
Jun 15, 2013 at 11:49 AM UTC
Dear Mr.
Smart mouth
Calculated
Wise crack
Arrogant
Smirk faced
Cocky
Sly eyed
Sarcastic
Over-confident
Too good for you
Son of a gun,
Try harder
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 1:36 AM UTC
Its been years since you brought me forth to the world.
The best thing was growing up with you through the softs and hards we went through. Things are different from they way they used to, i remember we would cry together when i would be challenged. You would comfort me and pray with me, hold my hands and tell me all will be ok. We had dreams,really big dreams some have come and many will be coming soon. So now am grown though still a child to you. The far i stay from you reminds me the our tales, yes we had little but were happy, you tought me to work and hustle to survive, you didnt give me chance to be lazy, you taught me that tears are not the way forward and me to be man enough from childhood. Yes you cained me very much....i now appreciate. Had you given up on me when my doors were closed i wouldnt be me, you left it all to have me raised. I kown am not the best of children but i originate from your flesh. cowards wished us gone but proved wrong immense. Look at how you toiled, moved places, sacrifised joy for just me alone. I dream too, to have in my tomorrows future a lady of your charisma, full of love and great modest & a championed brain of change-sweet mama
However much i grow is still stand in the shadow of you principals, courage and hardwork. Your worth no present for it will diminish your intergrity. Am happy wasnt born rich but you showed me the way to reach there...MAMA am on my way there and cant forget each day of the old-new words you said to me. You're such an admiration, a principal, a unit of joy and progress, a secret of progress. Now that i dry my tears, clean my sweat, fit my own shoes, each day will be a memory in life that God awards you good health and long life. God made me the greatest favor to make you my Mum. How i pray you live yo benefit and dine with the virtues you installed in I for one, as God weathers blessings over your life and dreams. Thanks with Love.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 6:27 AM UTC
Why so downcast my child?
Has someone stolen your joy?
That look in your eyes breaks my heart
Your dreams have been destroyed
Don't worry for I am here
Look up to the heavens
Let me whisper something in your ear
My love for you is as strong as it could be
It's bigger and deeper than the sea
It's time for you to dream again It's time to dream
Go ahead and try it's not as hards as it seems
You may have been stripped of your childhood
You may have had to grow up to soon
But I will never leave nor forsake you
Its time to imagine the impossible
Come on now your unstoppable
Go ahead and reach for the high peak
I know that you can do it in a heartbeat
You dare to dream again
Surely this is not the end
But a new beginning
A time for singing
A time for joy
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC
Admiration
our likes and tastes are quite different, ladies loving ****** and other die-hards for gents. Men for thigh exposure and others for descence, though all for a reason. We fancy scents, clothings, height, rides, the wallet size and most definitely the LOOKS, before all is gone some sense. Everyone needs a person to look up to for inspiration, in work, sociality, design and so forth. It costs you nothing to admire positively, many there look Upto you though you don't know, just keep it up-take yourself very important, for it's the beginning of hope for others that believe in you. Not necessary to forge a life #be you #be real.
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
She was the last perfect thing I ended my month with
And she was the first perfect thing I started the next with
I'm kind of afraid, afraid that I'll see nothing perfect anymore
Don't blame me,
Don't blame, you never looked into her sparkling eyes, heard her voice or felt her soft hards..
Never felt her indescribable hug, never touched her skin, never taste her eatable lips..
Don't blame me,
How can I like a smell that isn't hers,
How can I enjoy a laugh..
Or stare at someone..
That isn't her,
How can I, how can I like a girl after her.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 8:28 AM UTC
Our lives are under a circle of changes
In our boldness we persevere many things, shame on those who dispute resolve in public their personal affairs, our call in life is to be famous but rather fame of positivity and great inspiration.
A great kiss restores fundamental memories for it digs through the roots of the heart.
But those who live to please are carried on like a flying paper over petty winds of smoching goodies whereas the die hards know the pinnacle in the hunt.
Be meek and spy eyed to sieve and not be sieved in deceit.
When you love to change positively, you live to grow positively, in our journeys the start point is the destination but many destroy their paths in light of never return instead of having cleaned green their paths that on return their traces pave way.
Good shall always pay you well though even bad has got a price. The ditches you live in life are those you will find dug by others for you.
Run a race of tactical peace amidst wars of the sheeped wolves.
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 2:33 AM UTC
I know.
I heard it.
I'm the man of sterotype.
The one, who loves to deep.
It's me.
It's true.
I won't deny the obvious truth.
Especially, when my love is for you.
They say I've been placed in this sector.
That hards to recover from to some.
But I accept my truth.
I accept my faith that I've been sterotype concerning you.
I like this role of being in love.
I, if truth be told accepts it with honor.
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 10:21 AM UTC
Is there a word for the moment you win tug of war,
when the weight gives and all that extra rope comes tumbling towards you?
How even though you’ve won, you still end up with muddy knees and scratches on your hands? Is there a word for that? I wish there was.
I would’ve said it last night, when we were finally alone together
Strawberry Lemonade Mike-Hards in the hands of heavy hearts.
We finally stopped, we finally fell; the game was over.
We were messy and vulnerable
but for once, we weren't one two sides of a rope.
I hope theres a word for that. I would say it all the time.
Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC
I hate talking...
But i have a lot to say.
Im very rude...
But i tell people i dont know to have a nice day with every ounce of my heart.
Im very shy...
But im inquisitive, curious, amicable, funny, and usually the conversation starter.
Im cautious...
Yet completely impulsive.
Im clean... And neat....!
But sometimes im too lazy for a shower......
4 days at a time which is repulsive....
Im energetic...
But im too in love with my couch to show you.
Im aggressive...
But im too empathetic and laid back to hurt you...
I love my life...
But it hards to accept the trials...
I want a wife....
......i dont want a wife.....
I want a family....
But its hard to make one when youve never had one....
Hmmm....
Maybe i should wait....
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 9:16 PM UTC