"insta" poems
I will have you know that you are in the mine-ority
If you don’t look at my pic and insta-click “like” on me
I thrive in this weblight, you subsist in ambig-you-ity
Mine is the looking glass of Aphrod-I-te
The un-My-ghty look on my aesthetic perfection and despair
I am the reason there is an earth
All was designed to usher in my triumphant birth
You are just hateful ab-you-sers and mis-you-sers
YOU are YOUVENILE YOULINQUENTS!
I am the oh-so-fleeting truth
Present in a world obsessed with youth
I am only worth what others see in me
I embody the my-jority
My onscreen attention antics
Are the me-ssential components
Required to build a thriving Me-ocracy.
~
NM
10/17/14
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
[Hashtag]MeToo
Here it goes again,
trending on Insta and Facebook.
Where real awareness stems.
Mind the sarcasm,
social media’s a powerful tool
not knockin’ that.
I wonder though,
does the mind of the follower
understand the context of the hash?
Do they get it should be a call to action?
Not necessarily at the keyboard.
More like on the couch with their children,
Giving the conversation of consent.
Most people do not even understand it by definition .
The meaning of yes and no convoluted by scenario.
Bias boils over like milk and water over full flame.
The posts bubble out and stick to the side of the pan,
quickly drying; leaving their mark.
Until the soap and warm water flows over them,
and the steam evaporates the confessions.
Until they are again whispers we all hear and know.
It’s whispers from the alley ways,
and from married couples bedroom doors.
The woman is the property,
the man is the proprietor.
We refuse to address the real problems,
the failures of our up-bringers.
We point fingers and slay names
yet the statistics provide the truth.
One in four for females, one in sixteen for males.
We all have been violated, slandered, and forced to say
[Hashtag]MeToo
Not going to say I did not share it,
I know the touch of unwanted hands,
the invasive ***********
All for the sake of the insanity,
in repeating a useless gesture.
The only difference is
My hashtag went to my Senator.
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 9:25 AM UTC
I quit insta to
join this. Sadly I can't fix
haikus with makeup
Oct 24, 2019
Oct 24, 2019 at 1:42 PM UTC
Ash to mouth
divide north and south
east and west,
shout with class of Scout
let it out with griffin clout
we here we out , hear me out
— rhymes in time without
silent shrines to mime
cleared the crowd
covered eyes and mouth
over body desert shroud
if vengeance is your business
then from swords to plow
en lakesh
an eye for an eye binds
the all to be blind
but you can’t unsee the signs
no thoughts unclouded by loss
out the window I toss
mosaic fragments that cost
health and awesome sauce
Nazareth gutted commandments
by anarchy spelled
disaster after culture
massive ego it swell
up the road ahead a pit depress the juncture
so we spit the dirt divide just to touch the other
from pup to wolf so many bites, a pitted puncture
so much disfunct the fight till all be winded lungs sir
you can run
but from
gamma ray
you no hide
passed a black hole
wand inside
a body died
but it’s alright
(it’s heaven sight
till Zombie night )
animate dead necromantic black ring
the rhythm of life and death a chronic swing
the pendulum blade cross over cosmic skin
consciousness draw out from within
traced the win which wound round tat to skeleton
a dusty tome bound and crafted man
medicine subtracted by the head that spin
in the sky and its happening, blessen-ings
the miracle is mystery u cant guess it
talking 3 eye see
talking vip
climb high as canopy
walking so
my shadow lands under me.
ten toes touch to the dusty roads
when toads appear throats close
mighta had the Midas touch
still the golden one
was too much to flush
you might live in Laos
you my livid crowd
you might live it now
neva hit my limit how
cause you live in now
when you wake up proud
timid mind plowed
divid-dine fill the cloud
insta crowd wowed
this I vowed
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 7:59 PM UTC
ensorcelled - the day burns and burns
the dusk is filled with ashen husks
and white flies swirling in the wind
different kind of bittersweet day
like a girl who ditched you at a good movie
a sunset lighting the boughs up at 2PM
like a good day despite the world on fire
pretty and futile; like throwing selfies on an insta
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 3:34 AM UTC
Read random books
And take some pics
Eat bacon, soup and.. oh a Sandwich
Add it to your story
And add stickers, lips
Drive a BMW and sing a silly song
Of?
Not even the words of
Your "speachless" mind
Don't forget to talk out loud
Start a live
While going out, mad
Add "thinker" to your bio
pretend
You're different than the others, oh not my dear lad! Eww
Go to the gym
Take pics of your body,
Hola!
Isn't that a dream?
Make some more friends
Then make them cry
For your fake pains
Dance with the "kiki" song
Post it somewhere (mostly to girls)
Make sure
You are walking on *** son
Send follow requests to some **** barbie girls
Do not accept guests, and
make fun of fat nerds
That's your life Bro!
Did I ever protest?
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC
Hour by hour
She checks her Insta
Posts a new picture
With a Snapchat filter
If it doesn't receive any compliments
It's not good enough
Every morsel is captured
For her followers
Praised by the likes
And screenshots
Wouldn't be seen dead
Without her makeup
Clothing
It's got to be designer
Membership at the gym
To show off her trainers
Trails through pages
Like a maniac
Can't help but compare
And want what she's got
Her house is big
Her boyfriend is handsome
Her friends are cool
Her family supportive
She needs a new car
The latest Apple product
A holiday
To an exotic location
The trolls are cruel
She can't be seen with you
Her lips too thin
Her nose too big
Searching for surgeries to fix the double chin
Without the screen
Her life is meaningless
She's addicted to social media
Depressed and anxious
Jealous and bitter
She's too deep under water
To see you trying to save her
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 6:44 AM UTC
I found this story on insta....pls check it out. this post is all about it https://www.instagram.com/stories/_jimochi__/ (ctto)
it's true armys, where did that contagious bunny smile go? why? why do people have to be like this? all questions that have been rushing through my broken mind. it doesn't have to be like this. he shouldn't get this. yet he does. and it breaks me to watch day by day, that smile fade....
it breaks me..
because i truly want him to have everything. i will give him my life,
but how do I do that? how can I make him happy...
when
all
I
am
Is
a girl that loves him...who is miles away...she is so far away. so hard to reach him, give him her touch. so far to whisper in his soft ears that he is enough. she wants the very best for this angel but how can she give him the 'very best' when she will never pass that test. she wants him to know how much she cares. that "it doesn't matter what they say. you are perfect by the way".... but when reality hits...it hits hard.. that no matter how much she believes, she will never feel his heart. she will never be able to tell him "i love you so much". she can only cry, and watch as he breaks and sighs.
but no matter what happens, she made a promise "i promise to never say goodbye" but she will stop to try. trying to stop all his tears while her eyes blur from her own. because she knows no matter how hard she tries and tries, she will never be the one. the one to stop him from falling apart. she goes crazy every night, her head feeling so light. her broken voice whispers out
"I love you so **** much. I want you to love yourself. to not listen to them. because you are perfect my love. I don't want you to cry anymore. that's enough of the tears and heartbreaks. those people that hate, they aren't worth your precious time. I know it's hard...pain kills. but I am here...and you don't know that. but I am here. so I just hope you realize that you are my world and... I don't ever wish to see you fall. so while I am lying on my knees, ready to die. do me a favour and smile. do me a favour and get up on your feet......it would make my life"
and then reality hits again... she can wish and wish and try every second of the day...but she will never get to say this to his face. only in her head, it's true that he will be hers, but outside her cruel mind, she realizes "he will never be mine".
and the pain, once again, began....as she burst out into tears, finally accepting the fact that
"I am just a fan"
Apr 11, 2020
Apr 11, 2020 at 4:27 PM UTC
come & find me
i've left my phone plugged
into the wall because i can't feel
you breathe through your fingertips
and i can't read your lips through emoji
your belly-button doesn't look right shrouded
in 8 mega-pixel dust and i want to touch you instead
of a keyboard on a screen and tell you about my day because
even though it's written doesn't mean it's real meet me offline because
i don't want a five second snapchat victory snapshot of your panty-line
i don't want my silly romantic poetry to be re-grammed on your insta
framed against a picturesque city skyline or a stoic mountain lion
with hashtags and sexting doesn't turn me on like the sound of
your voice i can write you letters until my fingers bleed but
they always arrive seven days late and you never cry
when you cut them open with a knife and i'm not
looking for a pen pal anyway or a friend
instead i seek a mirror with glowing
teeth or an outlet to plug
into and charge
me up
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 12:04 PM UTC
I tried to be Insta-famous
Insecurities celebrated
Half naked, for the attention
High on pillies, money, vacation
With every notification
Filling the void behind my left breast
I worked for it
With body goals like this
Rock solid abs
Icon: fire and 100%
A whole snack
A girl that don't crack
Strip on that pic
Like Cardi B on that pole
Dancing around men
With the only goal of getting rich
Hurt them
Slight curl at the corner of my pillow lips
Ruin them
Feed the feed with self-admiration
It was the meds
or was it?
Inner ego
Remain incognito
Only every other photo
Only then you can show
How you could work that camera phone
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 11:05 PM UTC
im done learning a language rooted in vanity
like I need to take a selfie for my latest avi to go along with that tweet
and we're up in arms fighting, but its on the hush hush in our subtweets
thinking these anons that ask questions to boost my self security
telling friends, give me just an instant to update my insta
yeah, we're full of wit
spitting captions to gain cheap chuckles
lacing 140 characters together to make a point
less, we're spending time thinking of a cheap rhyme
while in the meantime our headlines are suffering from the lack of attention
because if one more ******* person tells me they're gaining fame
online
with meaningless angles, and pop culture retweeted
im going to lose my ******* mind
this **** is such a waste of time
this shrine made up of the kind of things you call mine
and we're washing out the brilliant minds
that are taking the time
to tell you something worthwhile
we're using a shovel as a ***
and plowing this tool into the ground
when artists all around are trying to dig through the ********
just to show you
that somethings are actually worth noticing
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
__|small gee for god; big bee for byron|__
Strikes a chord with you, does it?
This shambling poverty of thought,
Insta-rated and underwhelming;
Thank god for Byron.
__|keats versus shelley|__
Sparing no injury to his phthisicky frame,
Keats lies atop a make-believe of cherry trees
Searching among the clouds
For wealth, health and a Grecian urn,
While Shelley does Venice
And blows himself a hookah.
__|o poesy! for thee I grasp my pen|__
Panning the wayward sky for inspiration,
A hope, a word, a beginning;
A versification so ecstatic as to transfix the senses and pierce the heart,
A lightning phrase capable of uprooting all commonality,
As outrageous a miracle in the minds of men as crucified immortality.
__|requiem|__
Unlike the wilting rose which has no higher calling
Than to bloom and die upon the stem,
And having relinquished its last perfumed petal
Retreat from memory again,
I fear that I shall linger,
Tethered to this eternal moment
By shudd’ring will and breath combined,
A brighter shade of myself than what of me I have left behind.
Apr 16, 2021
Apr 16, 2021 at 4:21 PM UTC
So I'll lay in bed at 3:00 AM
& think about that one picture
I left on my instagram of you
Not because you're in it,
but because it's my favorite
You can see the way your
eyes sparkle in my direction
& how perfect our hands look
interlocked with one anothers
It's a great ******* picture
& there could have been more
had I not seen the picture of
you & her
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 3:24 AM UTC
got poetry to show to my friends but im thinking of deleting my twitter
my thoughts aren't as cool as I wish they could be, so bookmark my HP page for the updates
the summer is chillin and im going places my mom doesn't want me to go to
just because a place brings back bad memories doesn't mean I shouldn't be there
Im past all of the stupidness and accepted my foolishness, no need for the reminders my ego is drowning
my link on my insta no need for tweeting my emotions my tumblr is boring but so are your hobbies
im writing for some dollars for more pencils, im running out of them
i got some money but thats for anything that comes coincidently coincidence
no need for some pens because I cant erase mistakes with them
nhom site under construction so give us a few weekends our weeks are productive we hustle until we get it **** what you're doing
there isn't any way but the need way so excuse your missing bikes, we're 16 and we're foolin
we order pizza and write down ideas no time for galleria
we ride for adventure on two weels
interacting for promo no need for hiding behind some screens
my life is a run on but thats how it should be no time for breaks, sleep is an option lead is necessary
rooftops capture sentences paintings illustrate our visions
if you dont contact me then why should I
I should be humble but my account has 4 zeros, my mom dont trust me with it so I dont know the pasword
That child support is piling up, I dont really care
got miles on miles on miles on miles on miles ridden on my bike but I haven't gone anywhere but the city
Im aiming for the carpet so when we go back to school I'm bringing my summer
Got numbers as options but there's no reason to hit them up, got a good one I'm grateful
I'm riding fast my way don't slow me down, is this a comeup? I don't know I'm just going along
Come up from suburbs, I want to live high until my view is the moutains
Im from Dallas but that don't mean nothing, no city defining where I'm going because I was on the 26th floor when I was at my lowest and I wasn't even on coke
these days my grind is so lowkey, im sleep deprived
my paint never dries, my brushes are always getting washed but these projects aren't for the public
I only have a few questions, is love really real? should I sleep more?
i dont know but Monarch dr is gonna be in a book one day
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
the freedom of
not being chosen
frees up your Fridays,
your DMs, your
thoughts.
all of a sudden you
have all this time
to spend with yourself,
the cat, your friends,
even with strangers.
your evenings, once
filled by longing and
the dreadful ritual
of distracting yourself
with anything at hand
to avoid the unbearable
waiting. for a text. for a
sign.
breadcrumbs beggar
amateur
female
.hopeless romantic
25.
single.
self-respect – work in progress.
I tell myself I don’t
need the validation
from a guy who learned
emotional literacy
from Pokémon Go,
a guy who spends the little
time he has for
himself arguing with
strangers on FB or
posting on insta like its his job..
he makes me laugh.
but he also leaves
me baffled, confused,
he has me analyzing
and “decoding” every word,
touch, action.
he acts as an incomplete
puzzle.
all nonchalant
and breezy.
but little
does he know, I lose
interest in puzzles
rather quickly.
Sep 9, 2025
Sep 9, 2025 at 7:39 PM UTC
I look at the screen and see this perfect bride,
she is his ride or die, she is his wife. He loves her yet gives me the side eye,
I don’t know why I think she’s the other guy? I want love and security,
I want independence and non-codependency.
I want trinkets and tchotchkes but not a ring on the finger,
yes a finger but not that kind of finger,
I am not ready and he isn’t the one,
will I ever be the other woman looking in at the other one?
She struts away up and down,
gives me this glare while she drops a timid hand on her hubby,
possessing him and making him be her property,
smirks at satisfaction with the way my face is painted,
she doesn’t see it,
but love’s not a competition.
I don’t love him, nor do I lust,
he is just eye candy that I like to **** with my eyes,
he isn’t my type of guy.
Jealousy is funny cause I was where she stood.
Told him to block her and remove her as he should.
But I didn’t get it then and she doesn’t get it now,
if he’s looking at me,
she’s the other woman now.
Cause she is ‘othered’ by him,
she is replaced as the apple of his eye by me in his vision,
it is a revision.
Competing with me will do you no good,
cause I’m a class apart, a classy bossy b
and you just live in the neighbourhood.
I have visions and goal and options, you just him to be understood.
You chose to settle it’s not my fault,
you’re average at best,
it’s what I can recall.
We don’t even live in the same dimension,
you’re looking at me, but I’m looking at you and laughing
how you’re so green with envy,
I didn’t even speak to him even then you still think,
that I will steal him from you,
whoever you think are you two?
I got a better life to live than live in jealousy,
bless your heart but you’re not my enemy.
I am the only woman in this world, none of you ******* are in my caliber,
go cry to your daddy,
cause you are not me, you’re not an Insta baddie x.
Jan 1, 2023
Jan 1, 2023 at 3:23 PM UTC
A woman with a past, she’s forever making peace with it
Its pages written when the years were raging and wild
mellowed by time, they nurse pain in brittle folds
when I try to turn them, she breaks into tales untold.
Her heart is stone cold and yet she knows of love
How? she doesn’t know. How? I can’t begin to tell
She gives her all to me and retreats behind the stage,
when I press rewind, she slips into the act to cover-up her ache.
She tells me she wasn’t looking, and in her made-up now
she built a life whole and knit a yarn of awesomeness
I broke the many mirrors that mirrored her insta smile
She cowered and hugged me to escape her own guile
You don’t know my past, she tells with mock belief
I remind her we are both travellers having come this far
Our journeys writ on milestones dotting many a stay
We’re interesting stories we picked and lived on the way
She doubts the past won’t measure up to my idea of love
The night, I tell her, doesn’t care what you did with mornings
It just wants you to lose yourself, moor you to its dock
make it whole again, and stop looking at the clock.
Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 3:02 AM UTC
I used to Tumble my feelings away until you found my blog. My feelings are backlogged because you've got my URL on your homepage shortcuts next to Google and Pornhub.
I relish the days I used to subtweet you from the club. How I used to let
the bass drown out my thoughts as the beat dropped faster than my faith in you. In us.
I wish I could Insta this moment without worrying you'd see me with him. You ******* stalker get a life. Why are you holding on so tight? Quit covertly favoriting my pics, tweets and reblogs. I'm over it.
Status Update: I'm done with you. You can unfollow, delete and block me now because the only thing you're holding onto is the illusion of closeness. Outside this digital world I'm not a follower, a friend or a subscriber.
I'm the last good thing you had.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 12:20 AM UTC
A.I. Poet pounding at keys,
a lifetime of memories in
Chat GPT.
Punch up a sunset hues of
crimson and gold,
Throw in some birds,
Hit generate,
watch it unfold.
Selecting a font,
I couldn't
hazard a guess,
I'll just select an emotion
let A.I. do the rest.
Funny, this Insta-poetry is starting
to all sound the same,
Can't get any views,
I'm going insane.
Gotta find some new prompts
to up my game.
This Stupid AI ****
is getting pretty lame!
Jan 6, 2025
Jan 6, 2025 at 11:18 AM UTC
I after-taste like french fries,
I here-now taste like gum
All minty-fresh and sparkling,
Going plip-plop on my tongue.
The fries were nice and hot,
With a crispy outer skin.
The burned my mouth a lot,
But I kept shoveling 'em right on in!
Now my tongue it kind of hates me,
And my mouth it is real sore.
So I'll get a Wendy's frosty,
'Cuz soft-serve chocolate's insta-cure!
Oct 22, 2010
Oct 22, 2010 at 9:39 PM UTC
I stalked your social media - I stalked your Insta, Facebook.
I looked for you on Twitter but I don’t think you’re on there.
You didn’t post that much, but still I stalked you day and night.
Until you blocked me everywhere after a few drunk calls and texts.
I found you on Tinder. You didn’t match me back.
Oh well, I am sure, you simply haven’t seen me…
Please make a YouTube channel, it’d make my life way easier!
I’d watch your vlogs, it’d feel like you are with me.
I think it'll help with my addiction!
Oh actually… It’ll only make it worse...
But still, please make a YouTube channel!
I’d love to know what are you up to.
Where do you live?
Where do you like to go to for food?
You know, how life creates coincidences…
It might become my favourite place to eat from now too.
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 1:07 PM UTC
I sit on our recliner,
Luna bar wrapper on the floor.
My robe is cinched
too tight, a reminder--
your fingers should meet
around my waist, but my ****
and *** should spill out of your palms
because defined curves and wiles
are the definition of a divine
woman worthy of insta-fame,
tumblr posts, and right
swipes.
I'll twist and turn and pose
in front of any mirror, desperate
for a flat-planed stomach and fuller
cleavage, the whole time
wondering if you look at me bent
over the bathroom counter, fixing my eyeliner,
and think that I'm a dime disguised
in a size 0 dress.
If my sides could shrink as fast
as my self-esteem, I'd never crunch
my abs into idealistic numbers again.
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 10:11 PM UTC
Black hole kisses
******* me out of myself.
Kisses wrapped in hugs.
Intimate moments at intimate times.
Memories to treasure
On a cold winter night.
We once played a New Year Game
In which you kissed a girl
Then swopped her with another:
Twenty or so kisses
To compare.
One kiss so wide
I could hardly stretch
To meet it.
Ending up
Trust me,
With the big fat unresponsive one
Too drunk
To even know
She was being kissed.
Recall one time being coolly kissed
Politely:
A kiss that said
In no uncertain terms –
If you want passion
You’d better go elsewhere
My dear.
For kisses are like handshakes:
Some firm and friendly;
Others too hard
Or too limp.
The young don’t always get it:
Lettuce limp
With their customary hands.
Physical expression
A dying art
Like conversation
In this digital age
Of mobile phones
Snapchats
And Insta-Images.
Time to rekindle the past,
Go back to playing out –
And away!
Get mud ****** mucky
All gloves off.
Back to Basics,
That’s The Way.
Paul Butters
© PB 5\2\2019.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 6:28 AM UTC