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"irritate" poems
Nosey people annoy me Pompous people bore me, Pretentious people irritate me Whilst drunk people irrigate me. Opinionated people grate me, Cheating people forsake me. Sly people irk me Lazy people shirk me. Judgemental people cast me, Bigoted people blast me. Most people avoid me!
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May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
People who annoy me
There are people that Irritate me and I have To beat them senseless
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May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 10:39 PM UTC
Hockey Temper Haiku
Value someone who values you not like silver and gold, Value someone who values you in fact ten times fold. Value someone who values your smile, Value someone who in difficult times makes smiling worthwhile. Value someone who has always been there through the thick and the thin, Value someone who has held you through late nights and gin. Value someone who may irritate you till you pull your hair out, Value someone who would knockout anyone else who tried to in a single bout. Value someone who catches your every precious tear drop, Value someone who does everything in and out of the book to make those stop. Value someone who assures you that not all is lost, Value someone who inspires you at no cost. Value someone who protects you from every scratch and rake, Value someone who spends the worlds time with you putting everything else at stake. Value someone who holds you when nothing is right, Value someone who's always there all your worries to fight. Value someone who stands up for you in every situation, Value someone who never gives up on you and goes for a vacation. Value someone who does not care what the world says about you, Value someone who recognizes the real inner you and believes you are unique in your very own way too. Value someone with whom you may have the biggest of a fight, Value someone who still incessantly stands two steps behind you and for you with a smile whether day or night. Value someone who values you for what you are, Value someone who continues to value you every minute and every hour, whether you are close or whether you are far...
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
Value That Someone
Value someone who values you not like silver and gold, Value someone who values you in fact ten times fold. Value someone who values your smile, Value someone who in difficult times makes smiling worthwhile. Value someone who has always been there through the thick and the thin, Value someone who has held you through late nights and gin. Value someone who may irritate you till you pull your hair out, Value someone who would knockout anyone else who tried to in a single bout. Value someone who catches your every precious tear drop, Value someone who does everything in and out of the book to make those stop. Value someone who assures you that not all is lost, Value someone who inspires you at no cost. Value someone who protects you from every scratch and rake, Value someone who spends the worlds time with you putting everything else at stake. Value someone who holds you when nothing is right, Value someone who's always there all your worries to fight. Value someone who stands up for you in every situation, Value someone who never gives up on you and goes for a vacation. Value someone who does not care what the world says about you, Value someone who recognizes the real inner you and believes you are unique in your very own way too. Value someone with whom you may have the biggest of a fight, Value someone who still incessantly stands two steps behind you and for you with a smile whether day or night. Value someone who values you for what you are, Value someone who continues to value you every minute and every hour, whether you are close or whether you are far...
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24
<> you pout and defer, dancing backwards, claiming, blue is now blackened from underuse, incapable and incapacitating revival *saying  eyes cannot see, distinctly, neither near or far, the tremble of love, forgot & distantly absent, but I know, a heart’s sensory muscles never die, though weaken they might, underused, un-exercised denying  that inspiration   no longer resides with in thy sensitivities, has fled, undercover of smoking forest fires all the diurnal hazards that invade, occupying my internal spaces once filled by poems you conceived, birthed, in a pleasured haze, came so fast, you bare recall agony accompanied, but not the ecstasy of the end resultant!* ***you know it’s you of whom I write, but, a note not shaming names, but messages countless private messages have I sent begging, beseeching, give me your gifts*** once more, you owe me not, though I oft irritate with my deafening pleas, yet only denials continue, my pleas ding but dent not, the tired fear of your exposition so speak to you plain, feed my soul selfish like in years gone past, there are holes in mine that require your elixir, creamy softness that moistens my face with tears of your words originating, astound, enfold** not later, not soon, not excusals, write for me NOW, WRITE FOR YOURSELF, but leave me not forsaken and thirst un-slackened,** Answer! To whom do you owe your poems?
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Jun 11, 2023
Jun 11, 2023 at 11:30 AM UTC
The Ink in Your Blood Never Dies! (To whom do you owe your poems?)
The Sirens are in love with me. I’m digging a hole so deep, I’d rather continue to dig and dig and dig. The calm winds bring thunderous predictions. Bicycle rides send mixed signals. The Sirens send backup. A victorious guilt has won, But I fear the next day. The snowflakes come swimming in on May 1st, 2013. I’m a lost body browsing for comfort. The Sirens reach their destination. A collection of material items, Will only irritate the burn. I haven’t lived for one billion seconds. My mind is trafficking against my will. The Sirens have won.
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Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC
Soul Searching
Heartbreak Poems Writ After Midnight Poems writ after midnight Effervesce intensity, how can it be, both an Awakening, a dreading, a deadening? Volcano in the chest, bullet in the head, Cry stifled, but heard blocks away, Almost reaching a house where you live Poems writ after midnight Presage dread of day soon to start, Come forth more effortlessly, Spill, soil, stain - simultaneous - pillow, cheek, us. Rivulets of senses aflame, Police cars and fire engines scream warning, coming, Roaring warning lights of silent pain, heard blocks away, Almost reaching a house where you live It's June and from hallways and town streets, Your shadow will disappear, graduate, not from, but to You-know-where, the place where Emo music is born and screamos die, Same **** place that Poems come from after midnight Offered emollients, creams, stupid words, Drugs, hugs, catch phrases that never soothe, irritate hurt worse, The only word in the universe of words I can't explain A four letter gift my lover 'presented' and It is pain Read somewhere some poems never end, Now I understand that better, Cause there are no bandages, stitches that can close, Cause there are no pills, switches that can shut off, The ripping sound, the cutting noise, the raging inside Heard blocks away, almost reaching a house where you live, And dying in the same **** place that Poems come from after midnight. 5:16 am forever
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Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 5:17 AM UTC
When I Was Sixteen: Heartbreak Poems Writ After Midnight
I begin to hate it when someone is too much talkative I like my silence, I like my calm, my own peace I need to be alone, to stay alone And it’s starting to irritate me, I hate those people when they begin to see how I feel And I hate it. I want to stay the smiley one, the girl with a happy face But I don’t want people to disturb me in these times I like my own little world that nobody else can see I just want to be me
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Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 2:02 AM UTC
An introverted's thoughts
play the part the part of your character the character which the puppet master has created we all dance and laugh simply putting on a show for the evil puppet master he watches with a giggle creating new ideas to entertain his sick puppet master mind as we laugh and cry to the demand of our puppet master we enjoy when he's happy and suffer when he is down for he is the puppet master we cannot fight back for he calls the shots and if he senses a rebel scissors will be in the hand of our puppet master don't irritate him he has a temper and a sick sense of humor for he is our puppet master
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Jan 31, 2012
Jan 31, 2012 at 12:08 AM UTC
puppet master
I know that some of us, well many of else have noticed the tiny hemorrhoid who has been festering around HP for a while now. He pops in, leaves his unkind marks on our skin, causing us to scratch and irritate the area. What I am wondering is how many have noticed his poems (for lack of a better term and in an attempt to be somewhat nice) trending with only 1 like? My friends, they trend because so many people view them…not like them. That is how it works here at times. Views vs. people following you. He has only a few following him (proof drugs are still running rampant) and it only takes a few views to cause his used toilet paper offerings to trend. This, in my opinion is his goal. He spends his time trying to discourage anyone he comes in contact with so that it will cause us to view his vomited works. (Ok, getting a little uglier). He slaps and then runs, waiting to see what we will do to feed his regurgitated ego, and we follow, accepting his bait. My suggestion is to completely ignore this hemorrhoid, block him, no reading, no leaving ugly remarks on his work…just make him invisible to you and every one else. Let him write his little crayon projects and post them on his own fridge (because I’m sure his mom won’t even put them on hers). Will he eventually go away? Probably not, he is so full of himself; he could not live without himself. But, we can go away…not from the site, but from him. There are people like this everywhere…people who get joy from hurting others, people who sit there with a pen in one hand and something else in the other. (use you imagination) Ignore this pain; don’t let it get you down. If we all do this then maybe, just maybe he will get the hint…probably not. But maybe the swelling will go down a little. This is just my opinion and my suggestions.
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC
Preparation HP (How to ignore a hemorrhoid) Not a poem
I know that some of us, well many of else have noticed the tiny hemorrhoid who has been festering around HP for a while now. He pops in, leaves his unkind marks on our skin, causing us to scratch and irritate the area. What I am wondering is how many have noticed his poems (for lack of a better term and in an attempt to be somewhat nice) trending with only 1 like? My friends, they trend because so many people view them…not like them. That is how it works here at times. Views vs. people following you. He has only a few following him (proof drugs are still running rampant) and it only takes a few views to cause his used toilet paper offerings to trend. This, in my opinion is his goal. He spends his time trying to discourage anyone he comes in contact with so that it will cause us to view his vomited works. (Ok, getting a little uglier). He slaps and then runs, waiting to see what we will do to feed his regurgitated ego, and we follow, accepting his bait. My suggestion is to completely ignore this hemorrhoid, block him, no reading, no leaving ugly remarks on his work…just make him invisible to you and every one else. Let him write his little crayon projects and post them on his own fridge (because I’m sure his mom won’t even put them on hers). Will he eventually go away? Probably not, he is so full of himself; he could not live without himself. But, we can go away…not from the site, but from him. There are people like this everywhere…people who get joy from hurting others, people who sit there with a pen in one hand and something else in the other. (use you imagination) Ignore this pain; don’t let it get you down. If we all do this then maybe, just maybe he will get the hint…probably not. But maybe the swelling will go down a little. This is just my opinion and my suggestions.
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4
Messes irritate me. Yet, I am a perpetually messy person. Always cleaning the same mess Over and over.
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Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
Confession #2
Hey there, you, driving the lawnmower, sitting atop your shiny red toy-- state of the art, the best of the best in lawn technology. My meager fields are no longer in disarray since you came around; Tell me, Mr. Lawnmower, Do the aspiring clovers and rogue dandelions irritate you? Is their determination to survive a mere inconvenience, Or is that the slight trickle of fear running down your back? What about the bird's nest perched perilously in the gutter and the rusted horseshoes nesting in my flower bed? The disused swing set, now eroding in my backyard? I rather like my own personal jungle! Still, I suppose someone has to trim the branches that hang over the power lines. The poison ivy sneaking its way toward the roof needs an occasional reminder of the terms of our uneasy truce. Perhaps I need you after all.
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Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 5:27 PM UTC
The Lawn Therapist
Sometimes, I get cold as I lay in my bed - And it hurts a lot... Not being cold, But the thoughts that my heart whispers to my mind. Babe, It's so lonely on those cold nights, And I can't help but fantasise about wrapping my arms around your waist, Whispering nonsensical confessions of love into your ear because my heart rate is too high, thus I can't sleep. And resting my head on your shoulders and curling my body around yours when your warmth finally calms me down and your complaints ward off my attempts to irritate you. Baby I wanna cuddle with you right now - But it hurts having these thoughts, Because you're not here And well, You're not mine...
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Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 9:51 PM UTC
Cold lonely nights
Social anxiety is when you wake up and fake being sick so as not to have to go to school. Social anxiety is when you wake up in the middle of the night because you had a nightmare about a person talking to you. Social anxiety is not being able to approach the girl who has been one of the most important girls in your life for the last year. Social anxiety is not talking to people because you don't want to irritate them. Social anxiety is leaving to class ten minutes early because you can't be around people anymore. Anxiety is always dodging humans because you are scared if they see you they will laugh. Social anxiety is terrible. Social anxiety is Real It's Not Just An Excuse I Use To Avoid You. I'm Sorry If I Have Ever Hurt You By Avoiding You.
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May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 11:21 AM UTC
Social anxiety
I'm a cloud of useless waste of particles. I float freely, I fall slowly. I'm a useless dust of chalk. Wasted. What is my purpose? After my knowledge? After I have made my marks on the board? What am I bound to do? After I sit steady in the cold, dark place that I stain? That I ruin? I'm a useless powdered material. I stay stationary, I move slightly. I'm a useless left over matter of chalk. Unimportant. No appreciation for my knowledge. No notice for my wisdom. Is my purpose to be unseen? Is my purpose to irritate eyes and wreck souls? I'm a chalk dust in a dark, cold corner... Soliloquy is my game. What I play. every time. everyday Intentionally left behind, By my knowledge, my wisdom, my faith, my truth. I'm now A Nobody. I vanish, and I flourish and I fly. I'm a chalk dust with no purpose. And so, the soul had fled the existing body. And in the end, I see... My useless soul, my life... Under appreciated ** jnldm
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Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 5:26 AM UTC
Chalk Dust
Poison Ivy Not to be mixed up with poison Oak Thriving to irritate the human skin Leaving people with days of a red itchy rash So abundant and lively Berries white, run on fright A red vained plant of pure torture Three leaves, let it be Poison Ivy
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Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
Poison Ivy Nature Poem
at your own peril! *dare to vex provoke, antagonize, exasperate that is what my words will do they won't irritate or annoy, bug or merely peeve, a simple bother insufficient vex your core, demand that you more than mere question yourself but riptide extracts the elemental, battery acid on the essence bared learn the power of crafting words for maximum effect torment, infuriate, expose yourself, what has lain beneath the skin, you will let me in, to let you out why play with poetry, the most dangerous weapon unless you nakedly intend to* !dare to vex!
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Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
dare to vex poetry
Do you ever feel the noon breeze? hot yet relaxing brings you to an ease it unfold the memories inside my brain's deepest crease mesmerizing breeze i am standing under a tree Moringa Oleifra the mighty on which sits a sparrow chirping in mystique and another strange little bird with long black beak chirping tooo-weeee-t on the other branches two squerrals playing hide and seek and there sits a crow alone on one peak i am in whirl of memories of past year 2016 didn't i mention it's about a boy in his thirties he talked ocean deep but treated me like i am a feast like he is a ringmaster and i am his beast i can still feel the pain of that time when all the good is out of my reach Why do i think of him now when i am in peace? would he think of me like i did? nah or may be nostalgic or i might weep my orange colored dress doesn't irritate me in this scorching noon but thoughts of you did i have to head back from this muzz i am going back to my people who loves me where i am allowed to refuse where there is no abuse i am returning to peace goodbye noon breeze
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Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 10:55 PM UTC
Noon Breeze
How lonely would you be, Sitting on the only rock, Above water in a lake? Can you cry, If I were to die, Drowned beneath these waves? Listen to the flying shadow, He cries, he screams, he travels with ****** Foreshadowing awaited end, floating up, Out of the water, I can no longer touch the border, Of water and earth, And the transparent evidence of my life, No longer does it irritate me, No longer does it sparkle in this underwater sunshine. How happy would you be, If I were to rise? How happy would you be, If I appeared alive?                              -from firefly
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Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 5:54 PM UTC
How Would You Be?
Feminine Essence arrives from Sirius, riding expansive emotions, not equipped for Challenge Earth.   Enter Orion Male Essence, to irritate her into full glory. Still refining the Balance.
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Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 9:29 PM UTC
Get Sirius, Orion.
to irritate an instrument to intrude into an interlude to extract the extrapolation from a well developed tune to manipulate the melody to solo with your soul and finally to finish with your really groovy goal Lots of ways to sing it sad Lots of ways to gig real good Lots of ways to write it wrong or dance to it, like you do
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Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 8:30 PM UTC
To Irritate An Instrument
the distant eaves irritate the groundline; which becomes a hilly horizon in twilight A glance of warm colors: is it the glory of dawn or an afterlight? Who knows, and no real difference; the moonbeam will eventually bring peace, along with loneliness to drifting lives. The mother tongue has reduces to silence and the hometown as remote as paradise. I am here, hair in wind tells the destination of clouds. I believe in freedom, in any variety; as many as the ways of being nothing, tenderly.
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Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
The West Horizon
I tried to simplify all the complicated feelings I have. Some times you irritate me, so I leave, but then miss you. Some times I dont like it when you touch me, but then I want to be all over you. Alot of the time that im smiling, I want to strangle you but then you make me laugh. I'm actually not really sure if I even like you that much, although I think I might just be in love with you... It's all rather confusing.
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Jul 22, 2010
Jul 22, 2010 at 7:00 AM UTC
Endearing Inadequacy
The words Be happy They make me angry For the words be happy Do not fix me The words Just eat They irritate me For the words just eat Wont make me hungry -ARI
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Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 4:21 PM UTC
Words Won't Fix Me
Seven Nine Twenty-three point zero five Cotangent of angle a What can I find? Why do I look? It's a secret that I mistook for a solution Variables that make me ***** Integers that Irritate Numbers give me the heebie-jeebies Resolute in their Absolutes No quarter Just one over four
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Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 1:52 AM UTC
Math Class
How do you dislike me? Let me count the ways. At least half of what I do and half of what I say Seems to irritate and frustrate you. My deeds mistrusted and misunderstood As something other than selfless good. Your suspicion steals a narrow view Of how I would prefer to spend my time. So the sentence precedes the crime And love is shackled in its gaol, A prisoner with no parole, Once found guilty, condemned for all, And nothing can now avail. Imagined crimes will never fade And penance be ne’er truly paid.
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Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 8:45 AM UTC
Sonnet 43 (How do you dislike me?)