"jared" poems
her hair blows back in the breeze
as she strolls down the sidewalk
between all the trees
with a smile that reveals
every one of her teeth
and the dimples
of her red, freckled cheeks
she's an angel, i think
her divine, secretive lips
shine in their glossiness
begging me for a kiss
i stand aback, watching
mesmerized by her beauty
only able to muster the words
'dat booty''
- jared huskey
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
The last kiss from you
Lasted like a huddle in
The snow blitz
Rocking my anatomy
In the frosty glitz
The last words from you
That barged in my eardrum
You were in a hurry
To smell a new leaf
Draped in a diamond dew
The last gifts from you
Was an instrument
Which still I use
To recognize people
Or to refuse!
The last time
You said I love you
I remember I was laughing
Hysterically as if I was watching
Jared Leto’s jaded mimicry of Joker in YouTube
Intriguingly, when the last time I saw you ****
It felt like pretty Ivanka’s embarrassment
Noticing her dad is a lewd
The last time I was chatting
With you on Facebook
I was wondering why
I shouldn't hack your account?
To check your inbox
Yea, it was filled with the message of *******
F- Bombs, **** shaming and tagging you as harlot
All they were asking was your service of escort
Either in full discount or in hefty cash drops!
The last time I wrote
A letter of love to you
I discovered my Keyboard
Began to blurt out
No more, No more, No more…
The last time I had a chit-chat
With you in the Burger King or Pizza Hut
I listened to your hissing clack-clack
That someone else has become your puppy cat…
The last time I became sick
When I was with you
I heard you threw a party
Where you were whispering
To your besties, how
I become your double whammy!
The last time I was
With you in the bed
I felt like I was indentured
To **** a dummy toy
Sans spirit and flesh!
Loving you was like
Santa Claus gifted me
With a Pandora’s Box
As soon as I opened it
You decided to release
Our *** tape of your having ******
In pornhub’s forum of interracial!
The last time I heard of you
Is that you were giving an interview
To The Cosmopolitan’s board of review
Facing the barrage of inquisitions
You calmly joked, the series
Of latest uproar about you
In the social media or Internet
Is because certain people always
Love to rave about Women’s body
Shoving in and out of their pigeonhole
With their one night stand queen trophy
To flavor your form in their fantasmic mouth
You also smirked in a raspy voice
Defiantly declaring “we (women)
Have been locked indoors
With no air, no food, no water”
My last boyfriend is also no exception
He certainly thinks I came this far
Through ******* and deception
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 12:33 PM UTC
The Donald went down to Georgia
He was lookin' for a state to steal
He was angrily blind 'cause he was way behind
And he was lookin to make ah deal
When he came across this Q man
Sawin' on Twitter and layin' plots
And the Donald jumped upon a hickory stump
And said, "Q let me tell you what"
"I guess you didn't know it, but I'm a Twitter tweeter too
And if you'd care to take my fare, I'll Twitter follow you
Now you lay pretty good tweets, Q, but give the Donald his due
I'll bet a Tower of gold for your soul
'Cause I think your tweets are cool"
The Q said, "My game's phony, and it might be a sin
But I'll take your bet, you won't regret
'Cause my tweets'll ensure you win
Q, fire up your phone and type your Twitter hard
'Cause Hell's broke loose in Georgia and the Donald deals the cards
And if I win, you get this shiny Tower made of gold
But if you lose, the Donald gets your soul
The Donald opened up his cell and he said, "I'll start this show"
And fire flew from his thumb tips as he tweeted just for show
And he pulled his thoughts across word streams and he made a evil hiss
And a band of MAGAs joined in, and they tweeted somethin' like this
When the Donald finished
Q said, "Well, you're pretty good ol' Don
But sit down in that chair right there
And let me show you how tweet's done"
"Biden's in the Basement", run, boys, run
The Donald's in the Whitehouse having fun
Ivanka's in the West Wing makin' dough
Jared, do your thoughts bite? No, Don, no
The Donald bowed his head because he knew that Q could tweet
And he laid that golden Tower at the ground of Q's feet
Q said, "Donald, just don't concede if you ever wanna win again
I done tweeted you once, you son of a *****
Cuz my tweets will make you win" he played
"Biden's in the Basement", run, boys, run
The Donald's in the Whitehouse having fun
Ivanka's in the West Wing makin' dough
Jared, do your thoughts bite? No, Don, no
Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 8:07 PM UTC
I look forward to the re-enactments of historic moments in the pageant of The United States of America. [sic]
Gettysburg, Crossing the Delaware, The Moon Landing, Paul Revere's Ride, The March on Washington, The Storming of the Capital, The Clearing of Lafayette Plaza, The George Floyd ****** The Separation of Families, The Arizona Re-count, The Plot to Assassinate Democratic Governors, The Imprisonment of: Jared, Donny, Eric, Ivanka, Don, Carlson, Greene, Gaetz, Guilianni, Hannity, Conway, McVeigh, Barr [sic] (just to mention a few of the Founding Fuck-Ups.), the death of 650,000 people (the vast majority being innocent), The Pandemic of the Unvaxxed [sic]
After July 4, 2024, History may never be the same. See it now!
Jul 22, 2021
Jul 22, 2021 at 3:39 PM UTC
Jared and Ashwin, sitting on a tree;
Blazing it up with a **** on their *** pees.
Don't sleep on me, cuz I got a big ****
Slamming that hoe's *** like it's ping pong.
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 12:42 AM UTC
The Caged Man (2018) By Jared Ross
Heart racing, the caged man stands excited for his master
To free him of his burden,
Confound to solitude and desperation
The caged man stands idle in corner
Body to be left waiting until warmer.
Without voice and without cry the caged
Man tries and tries
His master’s absence causes worry in eyes
For he is a caged man,
He can not speak nor signal
He awaits his master for his mind is so simple.
The caged man is loyal and his duty is plain,
The master will be here he will wait everyday,
Until his bones break down, and his expression to frown,
Until his beating heart ceases,
Until the maggots eat him to pieces,
He’ll wait for his master,
For he is a loyal caged man.
The caged man wags his tail,
Anticipation to see a master who never showed up,
The cage is far from locked,
But the caged man remains inside,
Waiting for an absent master,
What a ******* of a master.
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
No woman Is worth what you put me through,
Girls talk about men and the bad **** he'd do,
But that's nothing compared,
To the emotional despair,
From terrorist attacks, from a woman's lair,
**** I'd wonder why I'd care,
Sayin' it isn't fair,
Ya disappointment's perpetual and you were never there,
Should have not got ****** now my heart need repair,
And through all the pain and agony you weren't even aware,
I tried to shrug my love,
Pretend I didn't give a ****
Hoping it didn't come back round like bad karma, ****** luck,
Hard truths,
Cold facts, It's all through,
What's the point of part one if there's never part two?
Heart's glued,
Still trying to put back broken pieces,
It's all you,
And I'm thinkin' over thesis,
Go back to observation,
Evidence of perpetration,
Hold you accountable for all ya allegations,
It all supports my theory,
If I'm superman your kryptonite when you're near me,
I fear thee,
Cryin' when you week and weary,
Sayin' "Jared, I need a friend so please hear me"
'Cause that's the nicotine I try not to let get near me,
Askin', "Are you listening?"
Through self imposed misery
Treatin' me like a figurine,
So I play you like a tennis team,
And make sure you get no love, back to my history!
Because you never deserved my presence,
Men try to win ya heart just a part of contestants,
Just to win a section,
Of your empty affection,
Compulsion, and expections,
Of giving that's one way in direction,
Taker Take her,
Come meet you maker,
The distance you created like the comet did the crater,
Don't ask me for no favors,
Cause i savor the flavor,
Of live with out you compared,
To a life with you despaired,
And everyday your name slips me,
Is like a little victory,
Because you name is to me,
A bad taste in my mouth, and amnesia is my listerine,
Forgetting things,
Now relationships are hard, because, of what you did to me,
Left me with scars, half dead like chivalry,
But it still lives through me,
If I ever see you again, I'll pretend, it didn't get to me,
Stop talking, and start listening,
Vapid actress,
When will you stop actin'?
You can fake love but you can't fake passion,
Vapid actress,
When will you stop actin'?
You can fake love but you can't fake passion.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 11:47 AM UTC
Christmas
makes you realize
how lonely
and pointless
you are.
Everyone's at Jared's,
laughing with the overly made up
thirty-ish
forty-five year old
behind the counter.
Making jokes about
how
the bride-to-be
"lets him get away
with certain things,
but he knows who's boss."
While the groom-to-be stands beside her demurely
as she flexes that nice glinting rock.
"So when's the wedding?"
Or seeing people
going to Micheal's
for some string and
beads, and wood-carved letters,
to make a homemade
necklace
for her,
because commercialism
ruins love.
Real love comes from the heart
and necklaces made out of heartfelt twine
glistening with green and red beads
that enclose her name
in wood-carved letters
that have probably been chewed on
by a progressive four year old.
I think it's the whole idea
of togetherness.
This feeling of closeness brought on by the cold.
The need to be warm and vitalized,
while realizing
that you are rubbing your own shoulders.
you are shuddering against your own pillow.
you are curled up inside your own covers.
you simply are
and there is no one else around
to affirm
with love
and ***
and ingenuity
that
you are.
Dec 22, 2011
Dec 22, 2011 at 12:04 AM UTC
You complain about Jared Leto's speech because he didn't "thank a trans person" and instead delivered a timed and beautiful and empowering speech for his mother and for anyone else out there who was listening. It was an all inclusive speech and made many cry. Yet you complain because he didn't mention a trans individual. And I wonder, what all of you that are complaining have done for the trans community? Because if you truly want to help them, you should know that Jared Leto saying 'Hey Thanks' won't make their lives any easier. Instead of complaining about the things that aren't happening, get out there and do them. Make a difference in their lives. And then you can complain about **** that doesn't matter.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
I was going to stick a metal rod in the outlet today
I was already vivid with the excitement
Of taking serious health risks
Imagine, just imagine what it would feel like
O, what sweet ecstasy the pain would be
Shocking, and locking my arm in place
No escape from the unconverted
Power
I was so tempted to put the metal in the outlet
I didn't care what would happen
If it killed me, so what?
If it put me in the hospital, so what?
If it gave me super powers, so what?
The thrill and excitement built up within me
And like a dam about to burst, someone said No
Someone said no no no no no...
The voice in my head chimed in
The timid little good-doer in my brain
Said No
But my arm reached forward
The metal grasped tight between my bare fingers
Grown numb from holding on so tightly
The outlet was near
close close close
My smile was the widest it's been in years
My heart was racing faster than seeing Emma Stone
And then the timid voice came back
Stop being an idiot, Jared. Go back to rehearsing the play.
I threw the metal rod across the stage
And got up
And delivered my lines
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 3:33 AM UTC
I'm so confused,
Like a ticking bomb,
I need to be defused
My feelings are jared up
Mixed emotions --
I do not know where to start
Met you in my worst,
And you stayed.
And that made it even worst
You make me feel less cynical,
Clearer than crystal,
Every move now is critical
What magic do you posses?
With one look everything is supressed,
Smile and the sleepless world is at rest
I want you,
I need you
But I can never have you.
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 3:02 AM UTC
On the road five miles from reno.
I wasnt with anyone I only
heard the story from Jared.
There had to be a few tired
truckers present. I bet
some one needed a target
to lauph at when the birds
shat all over your head.
Even then you were to proud
to put on a ******* hat.
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 2:14 AM UTC
Tricks, treats, taffy, tutus, timber, and trees.
Night time arrives, and the children come out.
Ghosts, ghouls, witches, and even bumblebees.
Readily running round, rugged, rough route.
Mandy and Randy get lots of candy.
Meanwhile, mom and dad are at a party.
Playing charades and sipping on brandy.
By the way, whatever happened to Marty?
Mandy says she lost her in the graveyard.
Scared, spooked, shivering, she slowly saunters.
Marty makes her way to the boulevard.
With red bite marks on her neck, she falters.
If Marty’s parents had not been toking,
They could see it was Jared just joking.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 1:07 AM UTC
I am being devoured from within
In the most whimsical way.
It is with ease I feel it to say
That an obese leg amputee
Is standing on my chest
In their single high-heeled shoe.
I am being devoured from within.
I need a cigarette.
Because the word "okay"
Has become my safe haven.
For I am all right
Though I'm drowning
In skepticism inside.
I need a cigarette.
I am a toddler's tantrum.
My innards have been twisted in knots
Not even Maniac Magee could untie
For the promise of all the pizza in the world.
I am a toddler's tantrum.
I am an anxiety and not much more.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 12:30 AM UTC
I left my hand print
On a glass door this morning
And thought nothing of it
Just like your mom smoked crack
Like nothing of it
Or your dad walked out
To avoid the fiscal cliff
Of raising you
I left a hand print
Thinking nothing of Jared
The window wiper
Who makes half as much as I do
With twice as much
To lose
My existence to him
Is the effort he takes to hunch
And clean up my disrespect
Jared is seventy two
And has back problems
From "The War"
His wife is dying of cancer
And he stays late
To wipe away
My inconvenience
Jared will never know my name
I will never know Jared's name
Jared will never understand
Why some people
Can't just use the **** handle
I will never understand
How my daily actions effect everyone
Thinking nothing of it
Jared will work late
I will leave hand prints
But someday
I will wear shoes
Similar to Jared's
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 8:15 PM UTC
On the first day I noticed nothing but your hair.
How it caught the sunlight and reflected it tenfold.
How it swayed around your neck.
On the second day I noticed nothing but your lips.
How they individually felt between my teeth.
How they left marks upon my neck and thighs.
On the third day I noticed nothing but your mouth.
How the words flowed out, powerful as an ocean.
How your teeth would bite me ear, drawing blood.
On the fourth day I noticed nothing but your hands.
How they held mine, always eager to calm them.
How they pulled the needle out of your arm, quivering.
On the fifth day I noticed nothing but your legs.
How they powerfully allowed you to stride great lengths.
How they were ever in motion, even in your deepest parts of sleep.
On the day sixth I noticed nothing but collarbones.
How I wanted nothing more but to crawl in to them and rest.
How I could gently **** on them, causing your whole body to palpitate.
On the seventh day and for years since I have noticed nothing but each individual hair on your body.
They each have a name, Kassandra, Jared, Peter, Ryan, Falyn, Jacob, Hammed, Caroline, Audrey, Yo-Landi, Diane, Khajjitt, Daralyn, forever and ever and ever.
On the last day I noticed how I never noticed your eyes.
But you were gone,
and I could not tell you what color they are.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 12:24 AM UTC
Its yellow with white shutters
With flowers in clusters,
Surrounding the big green yard
A rocker outside, wooden and bold
So one can get busy growing old
With a cabinet of homemade jams jared
A big garage to the right
To work and play in at night
Filled with half done projects and dust
Oil, gears, and tools to carry
Every man’s sanctuary
With broken machines and the smell of rust
A tire swing swinging
Child’s laughter ringing
Around the maple tree outback
River flowing nearby
And a kite flying in the sky
The small orchard outfront brings a snack.
A garden planted where
the sun is fair
And the pathway to it is curved
Inside there are colors
Hypnotizing to others
And a pump for water to be served
Ivy streaming up the walls
Vines curling as they crawl
Like the Christmas lights of spring
The windows glisten
As the residents listen
To the song birds in their nests sing
A winding staircase inside
With secret compartments to hide
Countless precious or priceless things
While happy photos paint the walls
And the small vases in the halls
Hold flowers with petals like butterfly wings.
The living room displays a simple radio to see
Which winter replaces with a Christmas tree
Beautiful music is played every hour
And depending on the season
Or any other special reason
The joyous residents will sing with notes sour
Food on the table
A comfy couch for cable
As the pie sits on the window to cool
A cookie jar ready to serve
But only given to those deserved
And the sweet smell could make anyone drool
In the study, take a look
To find a shelf full of books
Some are worn from use, others are untouched
All are worth a read
To a hungry mind to feed
And an old diary nearby waits to be clutched
Paintings strewn all around
Bought, handmade, or found
In rooms decorated with western antiques
Family heirlooms displayed
Heritage; dusty, old, and frayed
Proving that each family's history is unique
But at the heart of it all
At the back of the wall
Is the cradle thats held so many a child
And when death takes its toll
And captures the parents’ souls
Perhaps, the children will cherish something so mild
And the house and the cradle will hold many more
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 1:53 AM UTC
This one's for the dreamers
These words for them all
The heroes lived and died someday
Their stories left in war
Hidden, buried inside you'll see
The passion of a soul
This love that keeps a diary
Of a tortured, weathered hole
I won't give up till the soundtrack stops
When the credits are rolling down
Your purpose is to change this world
For the better and the poor
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
How sad for you, Ivanka dear,
the world can be so mean.
You toil so hard both night and day
there at your sewing machine.
To bring the world such wondrous joy
of shoes and bags and fashion
but big, bad Nordstrom came along
and stomped upon your passion.
You seem kind and intelligent
but folks won't buy your stuff,
'cause you support your daddy
and of him, they've had enough.
Ivanka, we all understand
that you must love your dad.
But narcissistic greed and power
have driven him quite mad.
So please Ivanka, intervene.
Enable him no more.
Just let us know you disagree
and step back, we implore.
If you and Jared do what's right,
then you we will adore,
and you may find, your product line
will be back in the store!
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 9:00 PM UTC
Premature, they died at birth. Twin brothers and I too am their brother.
They were born 5 years before me. Jared Scott and Trevor Alexander. I was born with my umbilical cord wrapped around my neck, and they were so small they could fit in the palm of your hand.
They were kept in glass boxes: incubators humanizing glass bodies shattering aliens in fabricated wombs. Clear tubes ran from each nostril to machines with numerical equations that simulate abnormal infant’s breathing pattern. Their hearts were UFO’s, unidentifiable, black hole brain matter with lungs like space vacuums.
“They came too soon.” I was told
Possibly cremated, I can’t remember what my parents said.
When I was younger, I thought babies couldn’t die.
*****
Upon my birth, my parents gave me the twin’s middle names: as if some fusion of sunlight and stardust could manifest into a third being, still stuck on earth with the cord around his neck.
Cortex in cortex. Conjoined astronauts sharing intersections of skin, fluids, and bone. We are of flesh and blood, yet I did not know them. They are more than childern, but intersteller beings, cellestials and heavenly bodies.
Twin constellations, Gemini, comparable to Castor and Pollux themselves. Their fates were left up to the stars, but they were not spaceships, they were meteorites burning out in unearthly fires. Without a fighting chance, their flames were stifled.
“Mayday.mayday……….. Mothership.is………………………crashing…..… ……………Mother……board.short-circuiting……………..……… Firing 3rd……….. ……thruster…… Firing………….. 5th.thruster……… 10 minutes ..till…...…….…... ………………………………………..impact……………………………………….……
recharging ……….......flux.capacitors……………………..Oxygen..Nitrogen…..…..
……………..Burning……………..… up in atmosphere……………..….5.mintues.till ..impact…………………Suffocation…........Fuel.exhaustion…………1 minute…….
………….45…...seconds………….Depletion..............30.seconds………….............................................................................................................................................
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… Planetary. Collision……… ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………15.seconds…………………………………………………………... ………………………… Planetary. Collision……………………………………………
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….………………...………The sun is so bright …………….…………………………………………………………..…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………”
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
dear jared,
today, i realised that i loved a boy
who wasn't you.
my time with you taught me to be patient,
despite many people who teach such themselves
are not.
his name is jake;
a humble, intellectual individual
without anything rude to ever say.
he's got neat but long, golden hair
and he's almost 6'2.
his voice is low-scale, but gentle.
i've never thought so much about kissing someone
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 6:40 PM UTC
JARED KUSHNER HAS A RUSSIAN CONNECTION
A SECRET COM CHANEL WAS SET UP
ARE THERE ACTUAL TIES TO RUSSIA
OR IS IT A STORM IN A TEA CUP
JARED IS THE SON IN LAW AND
A FAMILY MEMBER OF TRUMP
AND AN ADVISOR TO THE PRESIDENT
OR JUST A VERY SMALL STUMP
ONE THING IS FOR SURE THAT THE
FBI ENQUIRY WILL FIND OUT THE TRUTH
IF THERE IS A RUSSIAN CONNECTION
THE PRESIDENT WILL GET THE BOOT
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 7:30 PM UTC
Don Junior had a meeting with
Natalia Veselnitskaya
and he did not disclose this fact
or say what did transpire.
Paul and Jared were there too
but "nothing was discussed".
Don said the meeting ended
and turned out to be a bust.
The New York Times found out
and asked why Don did not report.
"But nothing happened" Junior claimed
when making his retort.
Then under pressure from the press
some emails he set free,
confirming Russian interest in
a Trump presidency.
His daddy claimed, "He's a good boy"
"He's new, green and naive".
But Manafort - He should have known
(one would like to believe).
But Junior's new transparency
turned out to be untrue...
It seems that a fifth person was
there in the meeting too!
A former Soviet officer
named Rinat Akhmetshin
was also at the meeting...
so why was he brought in?
And then we soon learned of a sixth...
a seventh... and then eight!
Tied to the oligarchs and
Russian governmental state.
What was the meeting all about?
Perhaps there's nothing to surmise.
The secrecy though, would suggest
it might be otherwise.
Don Junior had a meeting
that nobody disclosed.
Let's hope this helps fulfill the dream...
to see his dad deposed!
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 9:34 PM UTC
i’m 13 and my first kiss is from a boy named nick behind ***** sporting goods in stale street air. nick’s canadian and when i ask if he can speak french he says no but I can play hockey and that is the next best thing
a week prior when i tell lauren we’ve been dating seven months and haven’t kissed yet she can’t believe it but all i believe is i’m 13 and a first kiss was supposed to be so special
so special i am too scared to close my eyes so my first kiss is a waterfront view of spider-leg eyelashes, too much spit, and all nick.
two weeks later he calls me cherry and i call him kiwi because we think normal pet names are too mainstream.
three weeks later nick breaks up with me when i corner him by the west wing lockers in the middle school by english class. i confront him, lay out the facts, and that is that.
i’m 14 and my second kiss is by the bleachers at the high school football game – not behind because behind the bleachers is where kids go for second base and to form ****** lips around leaf sweet smoke.
i‘m 14 and my second kiss is still nick but it’s not all spit and i wonder who he’s been kissing
i’m 14 and my second kiss is to the melody of a collective crowd’s stamping feet and a boy named jared with no real teeth wolf-whistling at us from the corner
i’m 14 and i remember to close my eyes
i’m 15 and grind on levi who’s twice my height to a rihanna song at homecoming
his crotch is against my upper back when it should be against my ***
he doesn’t kiss me, drops me off, speeds away in his oldsmobile
i’m 17 and my first **** is with a man named dan who serves at the same restaurant i smile at and hand menus out for tips. i’m his twenty-third and for a while after 23 is my favorite number
i’m 17 and i’m bleeding on dan’s brother’s sheets
i’m 17 and afterwards dan sleeps with a girl named stephanie who probably ***** better than me. i got my ears pierced at claire's last year but stephanie has tattoos between her **** and a dermal.
i’m 20 and barely flinch when i see nick at the local community college. i ask if he still plays hockey and he asks me what good books i’ve read lately and i wonder if he’s any good in bed.
i’m 22 and i’ve laid with a dozen men, all nestled like eggs in my crate of shame
i’m 22 and i've learned to close my eyes until they've finished with me
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 8:38 PM UTC