"homegirl" poems
She is not thriving in the fancy place
but she grow up with the fertile mind
Other people think like she is in prison
But she feels like in mansion
She grow up and feel comfy
Stuck in her own routine
Doesn't makes her feel unlucky
No one can judge her, she doesn't care
She will prove it someday
What she's been prepare.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 6:01 PM UTC
Reading the paper kicking back with a few big boobie maiden's
He Man sit's and reflects after flexing his muscles for the maidens to giggle over mmm He Man loves the maidens.
Well after He Man's moment of deep thought he flushed the toilet
and beat the evil toilet demon back down the drain.
looking on the net and not just at **** He Man saw that evil Skeletor
had yet again erased yet another acount the master of the universe was mad so after wrasslin with the servant girl mmmm He man loves the servant girl.
He man called up Skeletor cause it wasa long ride over there and
and gas prices were a *****
One bar! fuck you verizon dam cellphone overpriced ****
He Man smashed the cellphone against the castle wall and cut that useless ****** head off cant hear me now huh ******
Man at arms build me better phone now!
mmmm He Man like a man in uniform.
After man at arms fought off He Man mmmm thats okay
he'll have to sleep sometime.
Man at arms built he man better phone with string and tin cup hello?
Skeletor Yorkie Speaking **** seems to be the problem.
Mmm talk slower He Man likes Skeletors voice.
He Man dam you leave me alone im busy with my life partner playing catch and hide the weazel.
Homegirl you better stop erasing accounts or im gonna get medevil on your **** He Man said in his naughty man voice.
Promise Skeletor replied.
BY THE POWER OF GREYSKULL WAIT WHATS THE REST OF THIS?
****** it been so long I cant remember who gets tied up first.
Wait what was i talking about?
I like ice cream mmmm ice cream.
Just then the line snapped it was cut by that naughty meat puppet
dam you Skeletor this battle has just begun.
Dont miss the next really weird *** episode of HeMan.
Todays lesson.
Well children never play with matches.
Cause they sometimes dont work so go out and get this
years sure fire hot **** seller toy.
The He Man Flame Thrower yes little Timmy wont have to take **** from that bully anymore just light his fat *** up like a christmas tree
and if this offended you get a life mmm He Man like life and *******
Feb 13, 2011
Feb 13, 2011 at 7:37 AM UTC
Edited by Maple, because mine was a rant nobody but she was supposed to indulge. Hahaha. See. I wasn't intending on trending.
I knew a wretched person once. And then. She died.
Now. Condoning death is the fastest method for becoming THE social pariah - for future reference.
But my god. I hated her. I really did. Not simply me; most of our peers felt similar. At least, they did till it was no longer appropriate.
See. Morgan was a ruthless psychopath.
And then she was dead.
Now. As a stranger, if you were to lurk her Facadebook, you'd think she'd been some ethereal messiah. Her web page is now trampled with laments. Kinda like the stampede that killed Mufasa. Her present facadebook now marks a day the devil became synonymous with our homegirl, Momma Teresa.
In what world, right?
The details of the fatality remain insane. Ranging from Ketamine to ****** But I won't illustrate them. Go see it yourself - on Doctor ******* Phil.
And they call me crazy.
Anyways.
I'm sorry, but she was a maniacal parasite with love like shrapnel. She destroyed her lovers, her family, her arsenal of friends by habit. And she did this for fun. So, again, I'm sorry. Sorry I am hardly sorry she died.
That's a lie, though. I'm not sorry at all.
Karma is candy. I'm happy she's gone. Never again to crumple and crush her loved ones to mush as mere eggs to her morning omelette.
And our world is a happier place.
Sue me.
for whatever reason this will not publish or save this particular recount
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC
Momma brought me up to fear
all of those four-letter words.
Two times two combinations that
stirred my interest and made me wonder.
Four-letters that I would
string together and spout off
louder and prouder than
a freshly lit firecracker
spinning and spitting on hot July pavement.
The same four letters that
slapped my fingers, flicked my lips,
lathered my mouth with bitter bar soap
and coated my tongue
with crushed red pepper
until there was nothing left
to touch
to speak
to chew
to taste
but my cautious curiosity surrounding
a apprehension of language that I refused
to acknowledge.
And when I grew up, like most little girls do,
I kept my nose in my books
straitlaced, like Momma asked,
and I learned
about my freedom of speech
and his freedom of speech
and her freedom of speech
and the same freedom of speech
that celebrates our right to use all words
in any order—
four letters or not.
In those same books, I learned that
freedoms come with their own price.
And trust me, I’m no stranger to their
single-syllable ugliness.
It’s their power to elicit such reactions
that makes them such forbidden fruits—
such juicy, delectable flesh at that.
In that same vein, I read the bible too,
and I know
when Eve bit into that apple,
homegirl wanted a little more than to just
keep the doctor away.
She wanted her own mind.
She wanted the same freedom that comes
with those four-letter words,
and she wanted the power
to fire them at Adam as she saw fit.
After all, her mother didn't
give her that mouth—
God himself did, and He knew
how that story would unfold.
But now I’ve grown up
and read a lot of things,
I understand those freedoms.
I respect them and use them
to color my communication as necessary.
I weave them into poetry and stories,
paint them with lush inks
and let them drip down
from once naked pages.
The truth though?
There may be one four letter word
that I’m afraid to speak,
and it has no mother-given stigma at all.
Anyone can tell you, its four letters
have more power than
any curse or swear ever conjured
by the evercreative tongue of man.
I keep it hidden in the thick of my throat;
locked away
until the L
the O
the V
the E
sheds its skin
and transforms into something
that I won’t refuse to acknowledge—
until I find my freedom
to scream it without a care
for its never-ending consequences.
Yeah, Momma should’ve of warned me
about that one.
****
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
I might not be rich
But I stay dream’n girl
After my success
Is you still with me girl?
I take a look at you
And I see my home girl
Yeah, you’re my homegirl
You and I we can take the world
Take a world class tour
From Paris to New York
Flying high, heavenly
To any city
As long as you're with me
You got the best of me
Until the end
Is it destiny?
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 4:29 PM UTC
* You gave me an Inch and I took a mile
But your homegirl moved quick who could resist your smile-
And when my birthday rolls around each year
Do you ever give me a second thought?
I bet a dollar you don't & boy you got caught
I'll admit you understood me better than anyone
but when your heart breaks love ain't fun
You knew where to wound me, we grew to close
I guess I figured out who really "loved who the most"
And they say it's the thought that counts
and you know the things I value
So you'll keep ignoring my existence and pretending I'm not here
And I'll keep pretending like I don't care
And life will keep seeming to be unfair
When All I really want is to hear you say my name
I'm tired of these games and you chasing fame
My love for you no matter what will always remain the same
Just please don't forget my name <3
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 11:48 PM UTC
The fake said to the phony,
"I'm hip to your jive and the smell of bologna,"
Meanwhile, homegirl still pronounces the L in salmon.
Somedays are deep fried and pan seared to perfection.
This is not one of them.
The bonafide bonerless guy cried aloud that he wished he would die,
so we took him out for ice cream.
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 5:20 AM UTC
it all started with a lie..
you lied about your taxes
Dump Trump, Dump Trump
what **** homegirl
you got the world in a whirl
can't really tell if your a boy or a girl
I didn't vote for you gotta low IQ
got beats to the rhyme, to the rhyme to the reason
soon you'll be made up as a clown in prison
What is are decision
What is are reason for believing
It's in the changing of the seasons
What alout this wall you seem to stand ten feet tall
See ya on the flip side cheese
Bruh, you keep spreading your deadly disease
It still won't knock me to my knees
You seem to be busy as a bee
You took out Hillary what a mystery
What **** Trump
make me ***** in my mouth
Soon you'll be going down South
In federal prison,
yeah, that's your final decision
Your fired !
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 1:57 PM UTC
I never took the time to sit and think about an M&M.
A chocolate that separates itself from the rest of the crew with its signature M.
Your empty palms await the decadent little multi-colored buttons,
Like they've always said, "melts in your mouth, not in your hands..."
When you take a bite into the cherub chocolate, its sugar-coated shell cracks like the frozen arctic water.
Exposing a sweet surprise.
Children jump for joy when they see the candy,
adults jump for joy too as their childhood is relived in every M&M.
Pop em' in your mouth during lunch-break,
share a few with your homegirl,
grab a handful at a Halloween party.
There's always a little surprise in every bite.
Sometimes it's a dab of peanut butter
or a crunch of peanuts.
Maybe a salty bit of pretzel,
or ooey-gooey caramel.
Whatever it is, they're good for the soul,
Your teeth won't be happy with you, though...
Feb 18, 2021
Feb 18, 2021 at 11:15 PM UTC