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"hypes" poems
Fanatics fixed their eyes upon The screen to cheer their team The mood there in the air was tense Tricolor seemed out of steam The clock was counting down The time was drawing nigh Doomed to lose and head on home Bid Russia their goodbye An errant shot deflected out Gave them one last chance To score a goal and prance about Show off their famous dance From the corner, the ball soared in A hero rose above Mina smacked it with his head And won his country's love England shocked to see the win Snatched right from their grasp Colombia delirious Successful at last gasp And thus the game was sent along Into the overtime Two periods were played to nil Two teams full in their prime Penalties would now decide Which team would advance The locals glued to their tvs The nation in a trance Falcao scores! Kane as well! Cuadrado, Rashford too! Muriel then strikes one home Tricolor up three to two! Ospina blocks the next one Hypes up the frenzied crowd But Uribe hits the crossbar And the silence echoes loud Trippier knots it up again We're down to final shots Bacca fails to get his through Past Pickford's valiant swat Fate rests upon this final kick Well placed with perfect spin Just past Ospina's outstreched hands Dier seals the win The cafeteros reel from shock No sign of jubilation But still the crowd, crushed in defeat Show their appreciation Colombia eliminated We give them all a hand And though their World Cup here is done I'm now their biggest fan
0
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 2:58 AM UTC
Adios Cafeteros (an ode to the Colombian national team)
| / / | \ | \ \ | \ / // / | \ | \ | / | /  / / \ \ \ | / / \ Storm is gone and all hypes  have settled down i go straight to that one place for that much awaited cleansing...............and freedom i strip myself of clothings on the surface and those underneath my skin... Under the shower i am bare as a newborn babe.   sighing....as i surrender myself to the trickles of water sliding                                             down                                                    my                                                          body... I turn around once...                               twice...                                     thrice,                                             to spray the wetness                                                      all over me... ...i turn the **** gently....for more water ...close my eyes   ...as countless thin drops flow out, touch my head,                                                                 i let them trace                                                                         the countours                                                                                  of my face... Mouth opens a bit i drink in some...to quench my thirst let go of some...and retain the rest be overcome by the coolness of the tap water, .....take time to reflect...to ponder... ....while wet eyes give way to sniffles ....blending with those refreshing trickles, ...........erasing muddy stains of fear ...................and dried marks of tears ................sighs, of fatigue...and regret .............these, i most often neglect... .....under the shower, they'd be quashed ..........i'd let them all be awash ......................save for my personal friends, ..........like grit........and good ole common sense. As water saturates my whole being ...a few expectations and dreams ..........go down the drain .......while others.....stay ........and dwell within. Some feelings just cannot hide ...some, refuse to surface, and stay buried deep inside. Sally Copyright October 2015 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
0
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 1:12 AM UTC
UNDER THE SHOWER
| / / | \ | \ \ | \ / // / | \ | \ | / | /  / / \ \ \ | / / \ Storm is gone and all hypes  have settled down i go straight to that one place for that much awaited cleansing...............and freedom i strip myself of clothings on the surface and those underneath my skin... Under the shower i am bare as a newborn babe.   sighing....as i surrender myself to the trickles of water sliding                                             down                                                    my                                                          body... I turn around once...                               twice...                                     thrice,                                             to spray the wetness                                                      all over me... ...i turn the **** gently....for more water ...close my eyes   ...as countless thin drops flow out, touch my head,                                                                 i let them trace                                                                         the countours                                                                                  of my face... Mouth opens a bit i drink in some...to quench my thirst let go of some...and retain the rest be overcome by the coolness of the tap water, .....take time to reflect...to ponder... ....while wet eyes give way to sniffles ....blending with those refreshing trickles, ...........erasing muddy stains of fear ...................and dried marks of tears ................sighs, of fatigue...and regret .............these, i most often neglect... .....under the shower, they'd be quashed ..........i'd let them all be awash ......................save for my personal friends, ..........like grit........and good ole common sense. As water saturates my whole being ...a few expectations and dreams ..........go down the drain .......while others.....stay ........and dwell within. Some feelings just cannot hide ...some, refuse to surface, and stay buried deep inside. Sally Copyright October 2015 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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55
We were born writers, insane already when our mothers were aching to sent us out in the world relieve their personal catharsis. Little did they knew that this was the beginning of their pain. Their suffering, starts from childbirth and lasts till the moment they die. Our girlfriends will make the same mistake as our mothers; falling in love believing in the *** in the future entwined around us and some, at least one will make the statutory mistake of bearing our child the trojan horse for the end. We, are like parasites we **** food, water, shelter we nourish in beauty, warmth and care and yet when we find open exposed skins floating on blue, timid waters we have nothing better to do. words are our weapons, our friends, our nemesis our route to fame and the very real lack of it. We smash everything around us, people ****** into day jobs around us suffer forget the daily bliss of life if they share a conversation forget more if they dare share a kiss a personal intimation. Besides, we are depressed souls. Repressed sexually charged impotent and ugly, repugnant narcissists. We sit in coffee shops with our personal diaries and create and destroy the future of the tomorrow that reads, believes in us. Every inch of caffeine makes us **** out hate and spill out so much guts that people who read us squirm like acid burns. We create hypes, fool around with Nietzscheian ideas, existential crap but all we are doing is creating a device for shameful procrastination. The world was not built around us No world will Whatever we think we scoop up earthly dust our jobs are but the position of glorified janitors.
0
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 3:18 PM UTC
Writers, by birth
We were born writers, insane already when our mothers were aching to sent us out in the world relieve their personal catharsis. Little did they knew that this was the beginning of their pain. Their suffering, starts from childbirth and lasts till the moment they die. Our girlfriends will make the same mistake as our mothers; falling in love believing in the *** in the future entwined around us and some, at least one will make the statutory mistake of bearing our child the trojan horse for the end. We, are like parasites we **** food, water, shelter we nourish in beauty, warmth and care and yet when we find open exposed skins floating on blue, timid waters we have nothing better to do. words are our weapons, our friends, our nemesis our route to fame and the very real lack of it. We smash everything around us, people ****** into day jobs around us suffer forget the daily bliss of life if they share a conversation forget more if they dare share a kiss a personal intimation. Besides, we are depressed souls. Repressed sexually charged impotent and ugly, repugnant narcissists. We sit in coffee shops with our personal diaries and create and destroy the future of the tomorrow that reads, believes in us. Every inch of caffeine makes us **** out hate and spill out so much guts that people who read us squirm like acid burns. We create hypes, fool around with Nietzscheian ideas, existential crap but all we are doing is creating a device for shameful procrastination. The world was not built around us No world will Whatever we think we scoop up earthly dust our jobs are but the position of glorified janitors.
Continue reading...
69
©PMcCoywrites The female gender is beautiful A part of our existence Without which we got no experience You see her here and there She is designed delicately for care. The female gender is awesome She was wired to want some No, to want more She bear a part to adore Her innate nature resides in the room of praise. The female gender is colourful She makes the world beautiful Than would flowers, rainbow and music The male gender hypes her up She likes to be talked-up. The female gender is an amazing album The world can’t put bottom. Imagine the world bound in boredom And, God didn’t give Adam A female gender to pamper his emotion. Human kind would be bankrupt Without love to sooth wounded souls. Without her we wouldn’t have evolved. The male gender would retire his soles. And mankind goes into extinction.
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Jun 27, 2019
Jun 27, 2019 at 12:01 AM UTC
THE FEMALE GENDER
By: Cedric McClester A leopard doesn’t Change it’s spots Nor does a zebra Change it’s stripes America won’t be Great again It’s just a slogan He hypes Nothing will end Here and now That’s just What he says I can’t help But feel somehow That we should Say our prayers He promises to To bring back Our jobs As if he really can Like he’s some kind Of employment god But he’s merely A man He can do Whatever he wants Because of his Celebrity I think he’s on An ego trip If you're Asking me Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2017.  All rights reserved.
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Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
A LEOPARD DOESN’T CHANGE IT’S SPOTS
**i am just so ******* tired. of people that try to write like me. i hate it. you would think i like it, and i am flattered mind you, but i ******* hate it. sometimes i just see my words everywhere, i see my sentences everywhere, **** even the way i have normal conversations. i am happy and grateful so many of you idolise me, but when i see a sentence of mine in another's poem, it actually really hurts. don't ask me to teach you how i write, because i cannot. i hate it when its the people really close to me that think just because i value your friendship, you have that privilege. i hate it more when people just try to be close to me just because they want to write like me. just stop it.. okay? or, i will be no more.**
0
Nov 18, 2010
Nov 18, 2010 at 9:08 AM UTC
hypes
i can hear a neighbor moan in anguish about her hopelessness, and i too, get wet at the vibrations of those thoughts. i too savor in the salty sweetness of vulnerability and i too get off on the hurt as she hypes and pipes and rattles and shakes and quakes and breaks and slowly gathers herself together again as a puddle down the drain.
0
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 8:49 PM UTC
words cast spells over me
i.     He calls me sunshine. ii.    He hypes up my pictures. iii.   He reaches me every day. iv.   He tries to speak in my favourite language. v.    He absolutely knows how to flatter me with love. vi.   He spams me with morning and night wishes. vii.  He still makes time for me out of his packed schedule. Best of all, he is **** serious with his life vision with me. — seven things I thought they wouldn’t happen to the insignificant me, before you serendipitously came into my life.
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Feb 10, 2020
Feb 10, 2020 at 12:08 PM UTC
Seven Things
Every corner seems to be in love with him Over little dreams, dans the Cruise, Heartbeats over hearing in the summer rain Laughing about dreams, Honey dew. Honeysuckle is my queen, She's smiling upon him, She's so violent and proud, Chanting softly walking high, Feeling hypes above the sky, There are lovers, real on games, Walking roses overnight. I'm just happy on my way, Sunshine brights for me again, Sweet carnage, Follow kisses, Hit the rain, I got nothing more to life for Since I finally find my way, Dark soft roses, Dark spring, Honey love over the hill, Commonly hidden by fiends.                                                     -Luis Feliz
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Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 5:21 PM UTC
Italian Love
My heart leaps when i feel your presence My life sparks and chills with your essence My Love before makes no detailed sense But now with you my hypes are clemenced
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Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 10:33 AM UTC
MY UN-NAMED LOVE
The days shorten when you’re about to collapse into the pile of ashes. Make way for the young, the generation that hypes. Write to find a journey within the sand ; eat and be merry. Find your compliments through ART Andy—he looks right at me—dream on. Look towards the cross-eyed mannequin, slipping into a coma. No one wants to be alone, and vulnerable. We want to touch each other’s skin, lay in each other’s arms, kiss; nose to nose.
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Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 3:30 PM UTC
Knows bone
do not read the news just do not do it; media hypes the worst of it all in hopes that we'll become Paralyzed school is cancelled children cheer while families fear for the Future
0
Mar 14, 2020
Mar 14, 2020 at 5:23 PM UTC
powerful punchlines
I sought help from you and all your kind. To fix the cracks formed in my mind. I reached out because all was dark. In desolation without a spark. Consulting you because my mind had flipped. I don't recall the name of pills on that script. So many now that have come and gone. So many kinds you've had me on. My mind and body with side effect. Years and years of that neglect. Going cold while changing types. Try something new with all its hypes. Still waving like a drowning man. And despite my plea no change of plan. Is this all your education can do? What really is the point of you? Years of drugs and threats of E.C.T Do you know the new cracks you made for me? I wont medicate this stuff not one more pill. Not one of my mental cracks did it fill. Feeling better just being drug free. Thank you Doc for helping me.
0
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 9:33 AM UTC
Prescribed
I wish my wish would come true After what I've been through As my heart you took and tore Yet you are the one I crave for My heart still beats in rhythm As my mind beats on like drum Your love hypes up my feelings Coz my dreams you are stealing Here I am, there you are staring Your favorite color, I am wearing A blaze in your eyes, I've seen ignite In your arms, you did invite A dance on a full moon night Holding onto me, your grips were tight A lot said through your dreamy eyes My torn heart blushing, unexplained cries More determination you showed Fixed all broken promises you owed My wishes finally fulfilling As all my fears you kept killing... ©sim
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Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 3:08 AM UTC
Wish Fulfilling