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Ever since we met its lik i kno who u r
Its lik we are locked togethr on a shelf in a little jar
Ever since we hugged i feel so squeezed
Were missing a kiss my lips u wud tease
Ever since we held hands i never want to let go
If I still held on our path wud stay aglow
But now my path is dark and my feet are sore 
Ever since this all started i knew tht i hav had this feeling before
I dont think i can find true love any time soon
If i keep trying my heart will blow up lik a balloon
I cud just stay emotionally stable for a bit
Bcuz if i dont in my chest there will soon be a slit
I love listening to ur heavenly voice
I wud listen to it all day if i had a choice
This one is for a certain girl I have been talking to over the weekend. Im trying to prove myself to her.
Alan McClure Feb 2011
Every day
I'd see them headin aff
in that clapped oot old banger.
He'd nivver get it looked at -
thocht it'd run
on positive energy and a kind word.
If that were true
my fower year apprenticeship
and six year in the garage
wouldny be worth ocht, would it?
But would he come tae me?
He would not.

There they'd go -
the exhaust gruntin lik a vexed rhinoceros
an the fan-belt scraichin lik a banshee.
Ah couldae sorted that in unner an hour.

Ah seen him workin on it wance, mind -
thocht he wis fin'ly gonny change thae bald tyres
But naw,
he wis paintin' ****** flooers on the bonnet!

Ah kin see them yet.
Headin up the hill,
weans in the back,
cloods ae black smoke pechin oot the pipe.
Ah couldae fixed it.
Ah couldae telt them.
But ah didnae.

An they nivver made it hame.
My lov\ly..
yo//
     • – • •
• •
                       \
           to m\?
do yo//  n\\d a h\lp ?
     ..com\..
                          i will not
     • – • •
• •
                       \
                      to yo//
lik\
           • • • •
• •
                   – –
now, why yo// still hiding from m\ ??
                      im not  
• • • •
      • •
                   – – !!!!!
                            lik\ (r\st//) did to yo//!!
             \V\N  I   N\V\R
                        H//RT   YO//
...but will yo//...
                        FORGIV\ M\???
            i know it's hard to say.
                           but do\sn't m\an yo// can't
lik\ yo// r\ad this, and lik\ i

                    ...FORGIV\ YO//...
I wrote this poet to visualize how I feel when I forgive or be forgiven
Irisgoesrawr666 Jan 2015
Gurl stops meking out
n asked boi to get potartz
he dus
den gurl teks deep breff
and gurl sais
bf
I am pregnent
will u stay ma bf
n he seys
"NO"
gurl iz hertbrokn
gurl cried n runz awaii from boi wiffout eatin poptart
n she has low blood suga
so she fols
boi runs ova 2 her
She Ded
boi crie
I sed I no be ur bf
cuz i wona b ur husband!
he screems
n frows poptart @ wol
a bootiful diomand ring wus insyd

LIK DIS IF U CRY EVERTIM!!!!
Brave Menelaus son of Atreus now came to know that Patroclus had
fallen, and made his way through the front ranks clad in full armour
to bestride him. As a cow stands lowing over her first calf, even so
did yellow-haired Menelaus bestride Patroclus. He held his round
shield and his spear in front of him, resolute to **** any who
should dare face him. But the son of Panthous had also noted the body,
and came up to Menelaus saying, “Menelaus, son of Atreus, draw back,
leave the body, and let the bloodstained spoils be. I was first of the
Trojans and their brave allies to drive my spear into Patroclus, let
me, therefore, have my full glory among the Trojans, or I will take
aim and **** you.”
  To this Menelaus answered in great anger “By father Jove, boasting
is an ill thing. The pard is not more bold, nor the lion nor savage
wild-boar, which is fiercest and most dauntless of all creatures, than
are the proud sons of Panthous. Yet Hyperenor did not see out the days
of his youth when he made light of me and withstood me, deeming me the
meanest soldier among the Danaans. His own feet never bore him back to
gladden his wife and parents. Even so shall I make an end of you
too, if you withstand me; get you back into the crowd and do not
face me, or it shall be worse for you. Even a fool may be wise after
the event.”
  Euphorbus would not listen, and said, “Now indeed, Menelaus, shall
you pay for the death of my brother over whom you vaunted, and whose
wife you widowed in her bridal chamber, while you brought grief
unspeakable on his parents. I shall comfort these poor people if I
bring your head and armour and place them in the hands of Panthous and
noble Phrontis. The time is come when this matter shall be fought
out and settled, for me or against me.”
  As he spoke he struck Menelaus full on the shield, but the spear did
not go through, for the shield turned its point. Menelaus then took
aim, praying to father Jove as he did so; Euphorbus was drawing
back, and Menelaus struck him about the roots of his throat, leaning
his whole weight on the spear, so as to drive it home. The point
went clean through his neck, and his armour rang rattling round him as
he fell heavily to the ground. His hair which was like that of the
Graces, and his locks so deftly bound in bands of silver and gold,
were all bedrabbled with blood. As one who has grown a fine young
olive tree in a clear space where there is abundance of water—the
plant is full of promise, and though the winds beat upon it from every
quarter it puts forth its white blossoms till the blasts of some
fierce hurricane sweep down upon it and level it with the ground—even
so did Menelaus strip the fair youth Euphorbus of his armour after
he had slain him. Or as some fierce lion upon the mountains in the
pride of his strength fastens on the finest heifer in a herd as it
is feeding—first he breaks her neck with his strong jaws, and then
gorges on her blood and entrails; dogs and shepherds raise a hue and
cry against him, but they stand aloof and will not come close to
him, for they are pale with fear—even so no one had the courage to
face valiant Menelaus. The son of Atreus would have then carried off
the armour of the son of Panthous with ease, had not Phoebus Apollo
been angry, and in the guise of Mentes chief of the Cicons incited
Hector to attack him. “Hector,” said he, “you are now going after
the horses of the noble son of Aeacus, but you will not take them;
they cannot be kept in hand and driven by mortal man, save only by
Achilles, who is son to an immortal mother. Meanwhile Menelaus son
of Atreus has bestridden the body of Patroclus and killed the
noblest of the Trojans, Euphorbus son of Panthous, so that he can
fight no more.”
  The god then went back into the toil and turmoil, but the soul of
Hector was darkened with a cloud of grief; he looked along the ranks
and saw Euphorbus lying on the ground with the blood still flowing
from his wound, and Menelaus stripping him of his armour. On this he
made his way to the front like a flame of fire, clad in his gleaming
armour, and crying with a loud voice. When the son of Atreus heard
him, he said to himself in his dismay, “Alas! what shall I do? I may
not let the Trojans take the armour of Patroclus who has fallen
fighting on my behalf, lest some Danaan who sees me should cry shame
upon me. Still if for my honour’s sake I fight Hector and the
Trojans single-handed, they will prove too many for me, for Hector
is bringing them up in force. Why, however, should I thus hesitate?
When a man fights in despite of heaven with one whom a god
befriends, he will soon rue it. Let no Danaan think ill of me if I
give place to Hector, for the hand of heaven is with him. Yet, if I
could find Ajax, the two of us would fight Hector and heaven too, if
we might only save the body of Patroclus for Achilles son of Peleus.
This, of many evils would be the least.”
  While he was thus in two minds, the Trojans came up to him with
Hector at their head; he therefore drew back and left the body,
turning about like some bearded lion who is being chased by dogs and
men from a stockyard with spears and hue and cry, whereon he is
daunted and slinks sulkily off—even so did Menelaus son of Atreus
turn and leave the body of Patroclus. When among the body of his
men, he looked around for mighty Ajax son of Telamon, and presently
saw him on the extreme left of the fight, cheering on his men and
exhorting them to keep on fighting, for Phoebus Apollo had spread a
great panic among them. He ran up to him and said, “Ajax, my good
friend, come with me at once to dead Patroclus, if so be that we may
take the body to Achilles—as for his armour, Hector already has it.”
  These words stirred the heart of Ajax, and he made his way among the
front ranks, Menelaus going with him. Hector had stripped Patroclus of
his armour, and was dragging him away to cut off his head and take the
body to fling before the dogs of Troy. But Ajax came up with his
shield like wall before him, on which Hector withdrew under shelter of
his men, and sprang on to his chariot, giving the armour over to the
Trojans to take to the city, as a great trophy for himself; Ajax,
therefore, covered the body of Patroclus with his broad shield and
bestrode him; as a lion stands over his whelps if hunters have come
upon him in a forest when he is with his little ones—in the pride and
fierceness of his strength he draws his knit brows down till they
cover his eyes—even so did Ajax bestride the body of Patroclus, and
by his side stood Menelaus son of Atreus, nursing great sorrow in
his heart.
  Then Glaucus son of Hippolochus looked fiercely at Hector and
rebuked him sternly. “Hector,” said he, “you make a brave show, but in
fight you are sadly wanting. A runaway like yourself has no claim to
so great a reputation. Think how you may now save your town and
citadel by the hands of your own people born in Ilius; for you will
get no Lycians to fight for you, seeing what thanks they have had
for their incessant hardships. Are you likely, sir, to do anything
to help a man of less note, after leaving Sarpedon, who was at once
your guest and comrade in arms, to be the spoil and prey of the
Danaans? So long as he lived he did good service both to your city and
yourself; yet you had no stomach to save his body from the dogs. If
the Lycians will listen to me, they will go home and leave Troy to its
fate. If the Trojans had any of that daring fearless spirit which lays
hold of men who are fighting for their country and harassing those who
would attack it, we should soon bear off Patroclus into Ilius. Could
we get this dead man away and bring him into the city of Priam, the
Argives would readily give up the armour of Sarpedon, and we should
get his body to boot. For he whose squire has been now killed is the
foremost man at the ships of the Achaeans—he and his close-fighting
followers. Nevertheless you dared not make a stand against Ajax, nor
face him, eye to eye, with battle all round you, for he is a braver
man than you are.”
  Hector scowled at him and answered, “Glaucus, you should know
better. I have held you so far as a man of more understanding than any
in all Lycia, but now I despise you for saying that I am afraid of
Ajax. I fear neither battle nor the din of chariots, but Jove’s will
is stronger than ours; Jove at one time makes even a strong man draw
back and snatches victory from his grasp, while at another he will set
him on to fight. Come hither then, my friend, stand by me and see
indeed whether I shall play the coward the whole day through as you
say, or whether I shall not stay some even of the boldest Danaans from
fighting round the body of Patroclus.”
  As he spoke he called loudly on the Trojans saying, “Trojans,
Lycians, and Dardanians, fighters in close combat, be men, my friends,
and fight might and main, while I put on the goodly armour of
Achilles, which I took when I killed Patroclus.”
  With this Hector left the fight, and ran full speed after his men
who were taking the armour of Achilles to Troy, but had not yet got
far. Standing for a while apart from the woeful fight, he changed
his armour. His own he sent to the strong city of Ilius and to the
Trojans, while he put on the immortal armour of the son of Peleus,
which the gods had given to Peleus, who in his age gave it to his son;
but the son did not grow old in his father’s armour.
  When Jove, lord of the storm-cloud, saw Hector standing aloof and
arming himself in the armour of the son of Peleus, he wagged his
head and muttered to himself saying, “A! poor wretch, you arm in the
armour of a hero, before whom many another trembles, and you reck
nothing of the doom that is already close upon you. You have killed
his comrade so brave and strong, but it was not well that you should
strip the armour from his head and shoulders. I do indeed endow you
with great might now, but as against this you shall not return from
battle to lay the armour of the son of Peleus before Andromache.”
  The son of Saturn bowed his portentous brows, and Hector fitted
the armour to his body, while terrible Mars entered into him, and
filled his whole body with might and valour. With a shout he strode in
among the allies, and his armour flashed about him so that he seemed
to all of them like the great son of Peleus himself. He went about
among them and cheered them on—Mesthles, Glaucus, Medon,
Thersilochus, Asteropaeus, Deisenor and Hippothous, Phorcys,
Chromius and Ennomus the augur. All these did he exhort saying,
“Hear me, allies from other cities who are here in your thousands,
it was not in order to have a crowd about me that I called you
hither each from his several city, but that with heart and soul you
might defend the wives and little ones of the Trojans from the
fierce Achaeans. For this do I oppress my people with your food and
the presents that make you rich. Therefore turn, and charge at the
foe, to stand or fall as is the game of war; whoever shall bring
Patroclus, dead though he be, into the hands of the Trojans, and shall
make Ajax give way before him, I will give him one half of the
spoils while I keep the other. He will thus share like honour with
myself.”
  When he had thus spoken they charged full weight upon the Danaans
with their spears held out before them, and the hopes of each ran high
that he should force Ajax son of Telamon to yield up the body—fools
that they were, for he was about to take the lives of many. Then
Ajax said to Menelaus, “My good friend Menelaus, you and I shall
hardly come out of this fight alive. I am less concerned for the
body of Patroclus, who will shortly become meat for the dogs and
vultures of Troy, than for the safety of my own head and yours. Hector
has wrapped us round in a storm of battle from every quarter, and
our destruction seems now certain. Call then upon the princes of the
Danaans if there is any who can hear us.”
  Menelaus did as he said, and shouted to the Danaans for help at
the top of his voice. “My friends,” he cried, “princes and counsellors
of the Argives, all you who with Agamemnon and Menelaus drink at the
public cost, and give orders each to his own people as Jove vouchsafes
him power and glory, the fight is so thick about me that I cannot
distinguish you severally; come on, therefore, every man unbidden, and
think it shame that Patroclus should become meat and morsel for Trojan
hounds.”
  Fleet Ajax son of Oileus heard him and was first to force his way
through the fight and run to help him. Next came Idomeneus and
Meriones his esquire, peer of murderous Mars. As for the others that
came into the fight after these, who of his own self could name them?
  The Trojans with Hector at their head charged in a body. As a
great wave that comes thundering in at the mouth of some heaven-born
river, and the rocks that jut into the sea ring with the roar of the
breakers that beat and buffet them—even with such a roar did the
Trojans come on; but the Achaeans in singleness of heart stood firm
about the son of Menoetius, and fenced him with their bronze
shields. Jove, moreover, hid the brightness of their helmets in a
thick cloud, for he had borne no grudge against the son of Menoetius
while he was still alive and squire to the descendant of Aeacus;
therefore he was loth to let him fall a prey to the dogs of his foes
the Trojans, and urged his comrades on to defend him.
  At first the Trojans drove the Achaeans back, and they withdrew from
the dead man daunted. The Trojans did not succeed in killing any
one, nevertheless they drew the body away. But the Achaeans did not
lose it long, for Ajax, foremost of all the Danaans after the son of
Peleus alike in stature and prowess, quickly rallied them and made
towards the front like a wild boar upon the mountains when he stands
at bay in the forest glades and routs the hounds and ***** youths that
have attacked him—even so did Ajax son of Telamon passing easily in
among the phalanxes of the Trojans, disperse those who had
bestridden Patroclus and were most bent on winning glory by dragging
him off to their city. At this moment Hippothous brave son of the
Pelasgian Lethus, in his zeal for Hector and the Trojans, was dragging
the body off by the foot through the press of the fight, having
bound a strap round the sinews near the ancle; but a mischief soon
befell him from which none of those could save him who would have
gladly done so, for the son of Telamon sprang forward and smote him on
his bronze-cheeked helmet. The plumed headpiece broke about the
point of the weapon, struck at once by the spear and by the strong
hand of Ajax, so that the ****** brain came oozing out through the
crest-socket. His strength then failed him and he let Patroclus’
foot drop from his hand, as he fell full length dead upon the body;
thus he died far from the fertile land of Larissa, and never repaid
his parents the cost of bringing him up, for his life was cut short
early by the spear of mighty Ajax. Hector then took aim at Ajax with a
spear, but he saw it coming and just managed to avoid it; the spear
passed on and struck Schedius son of noble Iphitus, captain of the
Phoceans, who dwelt in famed Panopeus and reigned over much people; it
struck him under the middle of the collar-bone the bronze point went
right through him, coming out at the bottom of his shoulder-blade, and
his armour rang rattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground.
Ajax in his turn struck noble Phorcys son of Phaenops in the middle of
the belly as he was bestriding Hippothous, and broke the plate of
his cuirass; whereon the spear tore out his entrails and he clutched
the ground in his palm as he fell to earth. Hector and those who
were in the front rank then gave ground, while the Argives raised a
loud cry of triumph, and drew off the bodies of Phorcys and Hippothous
which they stripped presently of their armour.
  The Trojans would now have been worsted by the brave Achaeans and
driven back to Ilius through their own cowardice, while the Argives,
so great was their courage and endurance, would have achieved a
triumph even against the will of Jove, if Apollo had not roused
Aeneas, in the lik
Saša D Lović Sep 2014
1

gledao je dugo svoju sen
zakrvavljenim očima
  grlo mu se grčilo

sekiru sa zida da ponese
u šumu
  šta bi drugo

inače često dovodi sebe
u takvu situaciju
  ne zbog nečeg patološkog

ne zbog neke skrivene želje
već zbog šume
  ona je i ovog puta kriva

usne su mu drhtale
šumom odzvanjao njegov dah
  drveće počelo da vrišti

suze cerove kvasile humus
no to ga ovog puta ne pokoleba
  ovog puta otići će mnogo dalje

na sekiru pade zrak
i ona umi njegovo telo
  svojim sjajem


2

mala fide
dim se vije mehovi nadimaju
  čekići biju

znojavi kovači brkove suku
piju vodu metal stenje
  pod serijom teških udaraca

crveni se još nerođena sekira
u agoniji nastajanja
  sijaju se oštri zub i uvo tupo

pa je utom zgrabiše klešta
sve zaneme
  sve sačeka prvi vrisak

susret sa vodom
mala fide
  šta avaj nastade


3

u početku beše raka
i on je plesao oko nje
  poslednji ples

uma atrofičnog
udovi mu leteli sekli etar
  bale kvasila mu lice

očiju zakrvavljenih
ni glasa da pusti
  zmije su stenjale upregnute

niz amove otrov se slivao
raka poče da biva jezero
  drveće spustilo grane

i sve više grdilo mu lice
o boli
  ples je bivao sve sporiji

ptice su sve tiše rikale
iz tame poče da se rađa tama
  grđa i crnja

muve su naokolo zujale
drveće počelo da vrišti
  suze cerove kvasile humus


4

i kako je plakala sekira
naišavši na kamen
  vatrene suze prštale naokolo

kamen se vrteo kamen je jeo
vatrene suze
  i zub oštriji postajaše

svetlost njena poče da izjeda tamu
grđu i crnju
  od one pređašnje

pade zrak na nagrđeno lice
i stade sa plesom
  zmijama skide jaram

umi udove svoje u jezeru
urlik zapara galamu oko njega
  i nastade tišina tišina tišina

kezio se njegov lik
sa mirne površine
  progledao je


5

u početku beše i šuma
prašuma beskrajna
  u umu njegovom atrofičnom

i u njoj on i ona u njemu
podjednako
  plakao on plakala i šuma

jeli jedno drugo
grlo mu se grčilo
  udovi sušili crni dani behu

anđeli su sletali
kljucali mu oči
  koje su bile voda

donosili vatru u prašumu
da sagori um njegov atrofični
  vatra se gasila

donosili i vodu vodu mutnu vodu bistru
belu crvenu zelenu bilo kakvu
  voda se gasila


6

išla je sekira iz ruke u ruku
brzo i sigurno
  kroz vatru kroz vodu

padale glave
padalo drveće
  zub oštriji uvo tuplje držalje crnje

od krvi od zemlje
sekira je kružila
  tog su dana žene crno mleko muzle

ah nesreće
ptice su sve divlje rikale
  muve su zujale

pauci se razmrežaše
između prstiju njegovih
  ključala je lava u grudima šume

kezio se njegov lik
sa mirne površine
  jezera


7

sa rukom stopila se sekira
skameni se dah pogled znoj
  kidao je dronjke od odeće

bale kvasila mu lice
konji su bili nemirni
  anđeoskim hučanjem šuma ga zvala

lišće je padalo sa drveća
magla proždirala etar
  ptice behu odletele

rožnjače mu se zabrazdiše
srce poče da kuca
  sekira urliče

anđeli behu odleteli
samo su muve zujale
  on penio

šuma hučala
jezero ključalo
  tišina


8

na kraju beše svetlost
prasvetlost beskrajna
  u umu njegovom atrofičnom

i u njoj on i ona u njemu
podjednako
  smejao se on smejala se i svetlost

jeli jedno drugo
grlo mu se širilo
  udovi listali crni dani behu prošli

demoni su izranjali
kljucali oči
  koje su bile vatra

donosili gmazove u svetlost
da opogane um atrofični
  gmazovi se sušili

donosili pegaze sa rogom
bele crvrne zelene bilo kakve
  krila im otpadala


9

stajali bi sekira i on stopljeni
u agoniji
  svetlost zaslepi oko njegovo

iz rožnjače kapala je lava
tuga poče da izjeda svetlost
  grđu i crnju od pređašnje

zub tuplji uvo oštrije držalje istrošeno
pade tren na nagrđeno lice
  i poče sa plesom

zmijama jaram na vrat
kezilo se njegovo lice sa dna rake
  progledao je


10

granulo je sunce i nesta svetlosti
zmije su strašno siktale
  upregnute

gledale kako se otrov iz jezera
pretvara u oblak
  oblak zakri sunce

i njegov um atrofični
udovi mu leteli
  pogađali ptice

muve su zujale
očiju zakrvavljenih
  pusti glas planine su se tresle

vetar poče da duva
umrsi mu kosu koža mu se ospe
  iz tabana poče korenje da niče


11

sva se magla upi u njega
on spusti sekiru u raku
  u raku doteče lava

i ne bi više zuba oštrog uva tupog
šume prašume svetlosti prasvetlosti
  jednostavno ne bi

na kraju beše
on
  u agoniji

postojao je
It's not all that hard, it's so easy to learn,
Each and every one of these simple rules.
You see, I'm not even American,
But not even us Mexicans are such fools.

I know this language like I know myself,
I never laid hand on the shelf,
Where everyone placed their literature books,
Just to drop it for looks.

It's easy to remember,
Why can't you see,
English is so easy,
Or is it just me?

No.
That wouldn't make sense.
Spanish was my first language.
Yet I've come to know English better than my native tongue.

You're not North American, British, or Australian?
Alright whatever, I'll let it slide.
But really, born and raised here?
Come on, it's a free ride.

Deosnt it btoher you taht erevy wrod is speled rong?
Notice can't that you is order your wrong?
Proud to be an American, it isn't really saying much.
Cuz it lik jus syin I cn bearle evn speek such.

Yes, I think you're stupid, every time you spell wrong,
Because it's so easy to fix even a word that is long.
It makes me wonder wether your autocorrect's off?
Because that simple thing, knows each time that you're off.

Is it really so hard to put in that one vowel,
Or put in the consonant so your spelling's not foul.
Or correct the double-negative, you know it's not true,
It's easy to do, just proofread right through.

We all have the ability needed learn,
Yet it seems your ability's been placed in an urn.
You've got a big brain, so why don't you use it?
Trust me, I know, you shouldn't abuse it.

If you have pride in nothing else,
That's fine,
But it's good to have pride in the fact that you know,
YOUR LANGUAGE.
Be proud that you can communicate well,
Be proud that even the nerdiest of nerds can't use words you won't understand,
Be proud that you know how to use correct punctuation,
Be proud to know where "ph", "gh", "ou", "eau" and the silent "t" are used,
Be proud to know which words comes first, and which one comes last,
Be proud to know English, you can learn it all fast,
Be proud to know the art of words,
The art so many ancient cultures knew,
The ancient Japanese, and Romans, and even the French,
Yet America has forgotten how to use words.
Be proud to be a leader of the generation in the USA,
The generation that brings back knowing our own tongue,
So that foreigners who come don't know us better than us.
Be proud to know the beauty of language.
It really bothers me, it almost ****** me off, how much people seem to go out of their way to not learn their own language. People can compose great poems, but if you can't spell, or if the order's all wrong, your poem begins to lose its meaning and artistic value, it doesn't even make sense anymore.
I luv the way ur hair flows as u walk past me
I try not to luk as tho i cannot c
Wen u smile an angel gets its wings
Wen i c ur smile i can hear the angel as it sings
Ur eyes r lik 2 pools of undiscovered spaces
I cud get lost in them meet new ppl go to new places
Ur curves r lik the waves of an ocean
I cud notice them even if u arent in motion
Ur thighs r handles easy to grip
As we hug and meet lip to lip
I cant trust myself wen im with u
I wud hav sumthn ether gud bad or inapropriat to 
do
It wud make u happy sad mad or *****
U wud want to hug me kiss me slap me or *** me
It depends on a question i wud ask u in evry way
Ur reaction revolves around how gud was ur day
Phoenix Dec 2016
I always thought
The tiny little creatures
That we call hamsters
Were adorable
When they run on the tiny wheel

That is
Until I realized that
I'm the hamster
Running, running, running
But going nowhere

My anxiety propels me
To run, run, run
My instinct is to run away
But, just like the small creature
It just loops around me

I push it away
And it gets worse
And it just snowballs
Growing bigger

And bigger

And BIGGER

Then I'm stuck
Spinning so fast
On this hamster wheel
Round and round and round

I'm going faster than the speed of light
And I can't process things
But I brought this upon myself
By thinking, I could run away in the first place

Stupid
Stupid
Stupid
Stupid

I am so stupid
I have a mental illness
And it's not going away
No matter where I run

It's like a small child
Clinging to my leg for dear life
No matter what I do
That **** thing is with me

I can tell
That people are getting sick of me
I feel it
A feeling I'm all too familiar with
This is the feeling
That tells me to prepare for the storm
Because they are getting ready to leave

Just like a hamster
It's cute at first
But the squeaky wheel
Slowly drives one insane
And it's not so cute anymore

At first
People pitied me
As they tried to help me
But I continue
To use my anxiety
As a reason for my dysfunction
And it's driving everyone insane

At this point
I want to shut down
Stick a knife in my temple
And **** my brain
So I can think
But I won't
Because I have WAY too much to live for

So my next best option
Is to shut people out
And get the **** done

Alone

Because that's what I'm best at

It was stupid to ask for help
In a war against myself
That no one else sees
Because that's what pushes people away

They see me
For the monster I actually am
With my constant anxiety
And horrible depression
And they get overwhelmed
And leave

So the best thing I can do
Is lock this up
Put on a happy face
And pretend nothing is wrong
Lik I've done for almost 17 years now

I can't lose more people
I just can't handle the heartbreak
And I'm afraid
That my catastrophic brain
Will slowly destroy
The relationships I've worked so hard to build

So here I go
Just gotta hold my breath
Smile
Hold my head up high
And pretend I'm okay
Because that's the only way
To fight this impossible war

Fake it until you make it

*Right?
HTR Stevens Sep 2018
Life is lik’n to lightning;
Like the mist it does pass;
Oh! What is life – this thing
That can ne’er for long last?

See the clouds near heaven;
See the dewdrops – like glass
Life is shattered, broken;
Oh! Life does go by fast!

Life, like the rose, a flower,
Quickly withers and fades;
Dries as passeth each hour;
The soul to heav’n or hades.

See the flick'ring candle,
Watch it splutter and cough.
Life, o thou brief candle,
At old age do not scoff!

Yet, ere life dims away,
Ere our souls to God go,
Make the best of our day,
Make a friend of our foe.
3 reggae doobies sat on a wall.
One of them was seven feet tall.
The second was short, and fat.
De **** was tough, n' carried a gat.

All of a sudden, a doobette walks by.
De tree doobies wanna giv'er a try.
De bluntz lean in a little closer.
Each givea whistle lik a poser.

De female spliff dismisses deir plees.
De doobies cut 'er off n' get on deir kneees.
Dey beg, and dey beg, and dey cry.
But she turns away and says, "nice try".

De doobies jump back, onto deir wall.
Didn't get how she resisted their call.
A new baety walks by, to test their luck.
Hopefully dis spliff will be down to ****.

The tall one walks around front.
She waves her hand, shooin' dat blunt.
The fat one takes a shot, talks derty.
Clearly she ain't in da mood to be flirty.

Da gangster ****** roll takes a shot.
Literally, he ******' shot 'er bumba clot.
De doobies flee, as the doobette falls.
Dere goes 3 reggae doobies who sat on a wall.


*Respect women. You never know when they might save ya life.
It'd be jokes if the doobies were all cats instead. Right?
TJ King Mar 2013
This is a recurring dream,
it slips into my veins
on the best and worst nights
warm and vibrating
lik blue jazz:

I am sitting in a tunnel, huddled
scared and staring, open--
into the hazel eyes of Sarah
the wandering angel of San Jose,
the cool Sunflower in my brain
as Peter Sarstedt fills
the blue-bricked walls
with, "Where do you go to,
My Lovely?"

Shaking my teeth
and ribs
like old blank dice,
lovely accordion sobs-
What vibrations!
Echoes and blue memories running into the dark.
I hear you Peter, She hears you
I must tell you that--

and when I wake
all that's left are the echoes
of my accordion heart
and the sounds of traffic
over the plucking
of red chords in street.
caught up in a sa of altrd imags
alcohol flowing
   rd pupils
from all th slfis
   ****
scroll up /// scroll down
m8 u waz wastd
   vryon at ach othr
voics scrambl;ing
for pol position
#popularity laddr
a flck of jalousy
   slic of malic
   *fyi
grn lights signal
sombody cars rite??
hr bgins th dz-dss-
   the dscnt into pixls
primary colours
   '*** **'
night grows old
   plot unravls lik a ball of string
coagulats thick and bad
let fingrs do the talkin' 4 u
  nams bcom strangrs
bcom nams bcom strangrs
TTYL
:)
Written: January 2015.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time.
I have just finished watching a recent powerful UK TV film called 'Cyberbully', which highlights how an unknown culprit can attack others through the Internet. This got me thinking about how today's society is so Internet-based, it's quite shocking. I notice everyday how people can be rude or offensive to others online, and yet nobody thinks anything of it, and as a result, nothing is done. The culture of those aged between 15-22 online is a thorny topic - selfies galore, attention-seekers, terrible spellers - not all, but a lot.
This poem deliberately omits any use of the letter 'e', contains brief 'cyberspeak' and punctuation in an unorthodox style (but the sort of thing one may see online from time to time). Feedback as always is appreciated.
Hao Nguyen Apr 2016
To: Thomas

Message: hey did u reed that bok
bout Chauser cuz i didnt
get it.  Its jus 2 hard 2
read n i dont kno y
we r doin this.
I meen we r good @ talkin
in our english so y r we
reedin all of this ol ****?

Who needs it or even cares?

Canterbury Tales?  Mor lik
#icantspellbarytails!
LOL.  its like 2 long but
txt me bk cuz I dont get it
n ned help 4 the test.
TTYL, busy day sooo gotta g

~<3 Becky

Sent at 2:00pm April 2, 2011
This poem was created in an experimental form: texting.
magicbroccoli66 Sep 2017
i lik poomes si mooch
we smell badd?
yee

wen we do ti badroom we doo a triky po
somtems iit smell lik chandie floos47


boot rilee iss jutc pupu
wat do i rit noiw%
Emmi Oct 2013
This city breathes
the city st
irs and turns
this city is a sleeping tiger
a movin
g, boulevard-striped back
skyscrapers lik
e** strands of fur on end
it raises its young here

it is a mother tigress
as its cubs play and sleep on her warm body
their paws pound the pavement
they feel it move
her beating heart resonates in every beam and sewer grate

her roar is in the screeching subways
the bustling voices and
blaring horns of the streets
the calls of the preachers
the drums on the sidewalks
every cash register in
every deli

the sobs
the gasps
the spoken word of her clan

she moves in
strange
ways
she is a firm parent
and rears her children strong
and when they come, she will break them
remake them
rebuild them as stronger beings

she watches her offspring as their hearts
grow and
break and
grow
and she caresses and toughens

the tigress is strange
her young are countless and strangers
bound only by a love,
however deep,
however dim,
for their cubhood home.
Any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!
Cody Edwards Mar 2010
Apparently, it is my societal rol
e to once a month (or once a wee
k, or how may you) succumb to
all the indignity, to the crushin
g blue of broken hands, and allo
w the swell of eternity its coarse
st way with me. And swallow lik
e a sieve the strands of all the flu
id universe.
© Cody Edwards 2010
MJ Smith Nov 2012
Last night thought to myself wats the meaning of life? Praised God n spread his love right? Sure you'll meet some people that are mean n thn some that are Wat if u meet someone u love? Do I tell tht person tht I love thm or do bottle my emotions ?  Bt Wat if they ask me if I love them? Well god says never tell a lie even if the truth hurts! So tell her I love thn things get complicated bt hw shldnt they get easier ? Ig not but I was told tht if u love tht person alot u fight through some tough times n ignore thm n mental erase thm. So I do so cause I love her n things got easier  but thn wht if we get sick of each other ? U probly will I was told thn they said u gotta keep things new n exciting ! So I did so n it got even easier bt later it got hard again ! Bt it's always gonna get hard bt ur love for tht person should make it easy!
Even though I hate somethings since u love I learn to love. N I hope u do the same. So wats the meaning of life praised god n if u happen to find someone u Lik on the Way maybe u shld hold on to thm aslong as u can! Until the end of time
PK Wakefield Sep 2012
.                                                                                  o
                                                                                  f
                                                                                 hu
                                                                                man
                                                                               thin
                                                                              gs: ma
                                                                             ny doin
                                                                            g, thing
                                                                           s human
                                                                          are more n
                                                                         eatly couth i
                                                                        n Into-Dust co
                                                                       ats of polite var
                                                                      nish and their ha
                                                                     ats hang at precise
                                                                    their teeth ivory and
                                                                   the smell of their colo
                                                                  gne catches back at the
                                                                 throat wearing finest silk
                                                                s (but time, time looks bru
                                                               tally through their and prim
                                                              shoes and trousers. knees sag
                                                             eyes hang instantly
                                                                                                 languor w
                                                           ears them like cheap perfume and
                                                          laughter unsuddenly from nowhere
                                                         crisps the cheeks of everywaiting sou
                                                        l creeks with soon to be dirt bones and
                                                       amongst them sprouts something gener
                                                      ous. Less close to nearly dead, and has (l
                                                     ike a frond has) demure sturdy waifish. its
                                                    timber is clothed in blonde lips and eyes lik
                                                   e waking almost never(no like daffodils; yes l
                                                  ike more them) only daffodils, they are not so b
                                                 right, nor as agile, i think but who knows i was o
                                                nly a boy who, from across the street noticed, a girl
                                               pressed between death,
                                                                                                     laughing like a *****
Matthew James Oct 2016
I
I

I'm trying t' find my ID.
I think I'm missing it.
This thing,
This bright, shining light,
It's hiding in my blindsight.
I'm swimming in mist,
Trying t' find ... "I"

First I'm living
In my crib;
Clinging wrists.

Flitting my crib,
I'm Shy
Crying, whiny twit, missing bitty,
With stinky kids, kicking kitty.

I'm missing my crib.

I'm piling thinking bricks with big kids.
Slimy, smirking ***** hiss 'n' spit.
I'm sitting still in ill-fitting shirts,
shirking sight.
Hiding might blind ****** kids crying, "It's billy!!! Skinny ****!!" 'n' smiling in fits.
"Try finding kind kids x"
Finding "whys" in rising minds.
My mind grinds.
I'm kicking tins, spilling drinks.
Sitting in IT,
Sir chillingly insists "it isn't "fly" spilling drinks! "Shy" brings skills. "Why" brings ills."
I'm still shy.

This crib's tiny.
Tiny minds, blind by bling.
Fit chicks with *******,
Thick ****** thinking with *****.
I flit this Brit ****.
Brisk flight,
I find "I"
Simply shimmying "ir(o)n lik(e) li(o)n in zi(o)n".

In Brit, I'm still shilling it,
Finding thrill in it,
Hiding 'til it lifts.
I'm brisk fixing it,
I'm hiding in drinks,
Finishing in clink.
Trying things,
High by night,
Slinking by, finding light.
Thinking "this is it!! I'm in!"
Tricky light. Light trick. Sight trick.
Lying in my mind
It's still ****.

Is it?

His birth...
This child is my kid!
This brill kid!
I'M in this kid!
Big grin :D

First kid is big kid,
Mid kid is silly kid,
Quickly hitch my Miss.
Third kid. This kid, this girl is my girl.
Brill kids!

I bring my bling by flipping kids thinking bricks;
Fixing bits in thinking ink;
I'm finding it stinks.
Kids drink slick skills.
My mind chills with mind filling drills.
Kids grinding, crying spills -
"Sir, it's **** innit?
With missing mining, missing mills,
Im plying skills by filing bills."

I'm plying skills with mind pills.

Mrs "I" is criticising my id
Im minding my Ps n Qs
Biting my lip
Fists tight, shifting slightly
Slinking nightly
This is ****
Hit slight hitch
Hit BIG hitch
"'kin *****!"
I finish with my Mrs

Kids split 'twixt cribs.
Kids trips fix splits.
Kiss lips ***,
"Night night x"
"Light?"
Click light.
Right, "night!"

I'm hiding my ills in girls.
IT pimps, swiping right.
Primp ****.
Minging swill.
Fit chick.
Swift flirt.
Flirt, kiss, flirt, kiss.
Big ****.
Tight slit.
Milky spit.
Wiping ****.
Hiding ***** sight in mind,
I find it sticks.

I drift

Stick tight
Fighting my plight
Grin
"It's 'right"

Missing my crib
My ID
I'm finding my mind
Sticking with it
Fighting silly flirting ****
Try finding inspiring sights
My kids
My crib
My Inking
My Writing
My mind
My eye

I'm kind

I'm "I"
First poem in ages. Playing about with a vowel trick.
MJ Smith Mar 2013
Trying
Why should I try?
When all it does is lead to lies!
And then later I just cry
I want it to stop
So I can chill with my pops
Maybe he'll stop kicking rocks
And moms will put down the pills
Then my brother will be a chill
Cause trying is hard and loving is harder
And trying to love someone who doesn't love you will leave you ill
Wanting to take pills
Because u cannot chill
So u start kicking rocks lik ur pops
Oh Boy don't  you want  it to stop
But just lay there and cry
Because that person lied
MJ Smith Mar 2013
Yeah I love you but u take advantage of me u take all of my love for granted like im nuthin to yah...
It hurts hits me straight in the heart but I shrug it off likes its nuthin cause imma soldier I gotta be this world would eat me up i had to grow up fast where came from the streets is tough boy
Words from grandpa
U never kno what's out there for u never kno what's in store
I used to wear my heart on my sleeve so I went n bought a jacket so these ****** can't hurt me...
I just wonder why the love of my life does it to I hand her the gun n she basically shoots me in the back but Ill take the Bullet cause lik I said imma soldier !
midnight prague Nov 2010
your phoenix eyes
whos ashes fall like withering words
shedding too much detail of your fugitive disastors
your heart of prisoners
you awake in me lik a crisp dawn
on the breaking of ways
bringer of sorts
and rising of the day
I squint my eyes as I am awoken to your beauty
hunter of my mind, excute my loneliness
and I will ****** your crime
I will terrorize those white monsters in your fingers
and clear your mountains
and purify your waters
beautiful phoneix
let me in


you drag me into the darkness like night
endless as space
you one human
the wind loves you on those beautiful days, when life seems perfect
the sun simply hits your cheeks
life lives for you

you standing in the park alone
you raging hormone
you who lets out a sigh of pain
you who laughs at the unknown
you who smiles at the joy in a childs face
you are a universe intricate, beautiful, destructive
all on your own
Poetic T Jun 2016
Footsteps that were past tense echoing
upon me like thunder, then the lightning
fell upon my vision and it went murky
in sight. I was within an eclipse of darkness.

Hands clapping on my thoughts urging
me to arise from this ill-gotten slumber.
I was tied as if to be burnt on the stake
of old, raised on feet I gazed in confusion.

A rope levitated my throat to upper reaches
just enough for breath but I gazed on a
room of discord. All was as if anger had taken
form and expelled itself on the surroundings.

With muttered echoes I spoke, "is anyone there,
But my words fell like dead leafs from autumns
cold voice. I waited upon the mirrors reflection
bouncing back at me of incoherent thoughts.

"Hello Peter, how are we today,

Confusion was my playmate as I considered my
reaction to this voice of my solitude. I recounted
the many repetitions of who I had angered in
my life. And on me I struggled under there weight.

"There was a little called Alice her hair like sand,
"She was the apple in the eyes sweet and beautiful,
"And you took that all away, away from all she loved,

Karma had stewed for so long I could smell it on my
conscience, and I knew that my end was but echoes
of memories away. "I know who you are, technicalities
were my weapon of choosing to those ill fated in meeting.

She was one such one, and there were a few before her.
But I retired from that form of endorphin rush. I became
placid like the lonely tormented sheep around me.
"I'm was a good little boy, no need to take this further,  

But like a sphere once you take that first step you'll
end up at the beginning once again. I saw myself in
this dilemma, not as in this scene but others playing out.
And within those few thoughts I felt what was karma.

As I felt so warm at peace with this action, but then the
reality swept those lingering dreams away. I was dying,
A replay of what perspired in past memories but not her
me in that place. "Karma always finds you,

They were his last words, I don't know which father
brother friend they were. But now they had felt the
lingering sensation of expelling life. Would they
keep it secluded or would they become lik.............................
went from catfish and grits
to hoppin licks
off cheap bricks
i benefits
hood felon rhymes
like gelatin
beat fools til they
skeleton
a lonely man
cant stand in a holy land
temples with burning sand
sweating through my glands
once the mic touches
my hand
im. better than
the averago joe
**** a sho or video
im.coming through ya stereo
with multiple scenario
hangin in the hood bario
sayin there he go
yosef with that sick
o flow my mo jo
burn tracks harder
than flow jo
oh i thought you knew
i break crews
through scandals
none could handle
my pressure
running across yo brain
similar to rick James
i got fire and desire
step up my game
so i could get higher
learning thais i be
burning preach to ya like a sermon
big as herman
monster way down under
ya can see mu ponder
shake ya body up
lik sounds of thunder
make ya wonder
who stick ya cells
like glue
with this rhymes i t
rhymes make loot
but unsigned and hype
spittin' right
so i cant loose it
abuse it
southern playa listic
jammin' funk music

Now that ya out
Of ya seat i got the beat
For the streer
Far from neat and
Suckas can't compete
Against the elite
Once i show my
Pistol pete brains meet
The led from my steel
**** mass appeal seal
The deal
Never cross my hands
No gestures
Could put me on a stretcher
Hittin' rhymes so hard
Ill betcha
You run into not knowing who
I could be
Flows like b to i to g
Names biggie ya im
Gettin' jiggy
Been writing poetry
Since i was leeched
On my momma *******
Break milk gave nutritions
Im formin cold fusions
Abusin' aint no substitutin'
Far from.boring
Give these cats a
Pillow til they snoring
Borin' rhymes be Pourin'
Sourin' out the night
Nd my organization be
**** tight sho ya right
Im havin funs
While ya stuck in shuns
Check my creation
From concoction burial plottin'
Ya body be rotten
Once my flows assist
Ya mind like Stockton
On Utah Jazz spinn around
Hataz like taz
Leave suckas with a
Dash check in yo cash
Its pay out time
Im coming across enemy lines
All the time
With these dope lines

Crossin- me is like
A step through eternity
Journey with me
The yosef aint going
Out quietly roughly
I be the G super slick
With no perms on me
Keep a pick in my hair
Step if you dare
Bound to get mauled
If you to my lair
Rhymes stack like layers
Pyramid scheme cyclin' beams
As my force shows supreme
Slim yo weight
Cuz im gainin' much clout
No doubt
Put my shades on
So i can block spectators out
I make ya scream and shout
Like service in a
Church building hittin the ceiling
And im chillin'
Free willin' makin' sales
Like dealin'
Shot rhymes faster than
Matt Dillion noggins fillin'
Like buckets of water
Step to the arena be prepare for slaughter
Breakin' off so properly
Texas state property
Move so gracefully
Nothing but tha ahh
Southern playa in me
It's there
That familiar shape
At my fingertips
That unforgettable taste
Between my lips,
A longing
Finally appeased
But then replaced
By a new yearning,
Every breath
Unfiltered love
Deeply inhaled
Softly expelled,
The cool air
And the warmth clashing
Like snow and fur
Time and space watching
I trace every surface
Lik a friend
That never stays long,
But oh how
Her presence lingers
In all the corners
Felt but unseen,
An enchanting spell
Clutched to my heart unbroken...

APAD14 - 007 © okpoet
Virginia Lore Jan 2016
I am a blind hamster on a creaky wheel.
I am the weight at the bottom of a sack of drowning kittens.
I am your overdue taxes with thirteen attachments and nine different forms.

My life is mud.
It is a paradise for sickly toads and preying swampthings.
I slog through it lik ea nine hundred pound woman climbing a flight of stairs.

What do I want?

Everything.

Ocean sounds echoing off the walls of my sanctuary.
Soft cushions topping heaps of treasure.
Hot tea in a rainstorm.
Lovers from here to Mazatlan.
Seven angelic children singing like bells at Christmas.

I want to stay young.
I want to be young, younger than I've ever been --

I want straight shoulders
and hairless skin
and white teeth
and perfect eyesight.

The grace of a dancer.
The vision of a priest.
The life of someone starting over,
wisdom remembered, energy building,
all in love with skylines and jet trails.

Mostly, I want your eyes
meeting mine
and telling me
I'm not alone in this.
magicbroccoli66 Sep 2017
et id me borfday toodai
we ar so happi dso bee 16 yodqay
we wouldn lik to t6hank qaqdam rylander
he had ben  a grayt heelp

i wood lek jew also fank solari
he liked mee pomes and amde me go trending
if yoo cood chair dis wev ur frends and mak me famoos
i wood be appy
thankyou @solari and @lostboy
BF Sep 2014
My hear(t),
lik(e) pots a(n)d pa(n)s on a suburban street at m(i)d(n)ight,
quiv(e)rs up into my collarbon(e).

(I)t is heavy with the wei(ght) of carrying you into the new year.

That ki(s)s, that kiss of d(e)ath, dies a slow and (ve)xed death.
E(n)ough to paralyze but not ****.

My (s)k(i)n still tingles where the fuzz of your face ta(x)ied my cheek.
Screaming sensation,
— a surrendering of sorts.

The sequin top loses it's beading and the paper hat gets bent,
But like my (f)avor(i)te every season sweater,
I'll ne(ve)r outgrow you.
Even i(f) I d(o) have to hold my breath to keep yo(u) in,
you a(r)e (th)e colo(r)s I s(ee) when I close my eyes.

You wan(t)ed and you got.
And I still (w)ant what I didn't get.

Maybe this (o)ne. Maybe the next (one).
Luka D Feb 2018
Usred noći nagon me probudi
Moram na WC na visokoj sam uzbudi
Svjetlo palit odlučio sam neću
No nasred hodnika suze mi poteću

Na kraju hodnika On tamo stoji
Zovem psa u pomoć on se ničega ne boji
Na poziv upomoć on se nije odozvao
Čak i i nakon obećanja keksa nije se pojavio

Sada ja i Slenderman smo ostali sami
Prokleti lik koji stanuje u tami

Zajebi ti ovo, pišat više nemoram
Sad svaki put iz sobe sjekiru furam

Pod plahte skrivao sam se uplačen
ovu avanturu ponovit ne želim
Opran paranojom sada ti kažem
Iz ove kuće se što prije selim
It's in Croatian, it's about your mind playing tricks on you.
magicbroccoli66 Sep 2017
Whenj he shaikd I wasd not normilo I sad .
Feel insid I nit cirroct, thes maks me seddingtew
The bigg men ssai no tome, I lik deck en mi battem’
Wen je sai I soo sed I cri evy dai of aprel.

Wun dai I weas sed I mad mislef dei of rabbes
Wen I med dog hee *** do sed wot I dei
Hee tel me to no bee dei anymooor
Bow I em fin adn a shappy preson.
co-written by @lostboy
ArthurDKid Jul 2015
I find people here very interesting.
Watching and reading poems
lik a vulture waiting
Big wolves, lions, hyenas...
come on fight and feast
let me taste with excitement
Your imaginative and creative skills
Big Virge Nov 2020
So When Are We TOO OLD... ?
To Be Seen As.... " Dope ".... ?!?

Or What's Called... " HOT "... !?!
Like Some SUPER FINE Crotch.... !!!!!

Well I'm... At THAT AGE...
Where My Body NOW ACHES... !!!
But STILL Have A BRAIN... !!!!!
That Functions... OKAY... !!!

So Let's Set Things STRAIGHT... !!!!!!!!!!

I STILL Have ARRAYS...
of... CLEVER Wordplay... !!!
THAT Rhythmically Flows...
When I Hit The Stage... !!!

So DON'T TRY To CLAIM...
That My Stage Show's LAME... !!!
And That My Beats Sound The Same... !!!!!

Cos' My Age NOW DICTATES...
That I'm ABLE Today... !!!
To Use FEAR As A Way...
To Make My Game PLAY...
In Ways That I COULDN'T...
When I Felt Young And Brave...

So Am I Now A VICTIM...
of What's Called... " Ageism "... ?!?

You Youngu'ns NEED To LISTEN.... !!!!!
You're ENTITLED To... YOUR Vision...

of ART You Feel Is... KICKIN'...
But DON'T You Be FORGETTIN'... !!!

That... OLDER Heads Had Rhythm...
BEFORE You Guys Were LIVING...
Or ITCHING... In The Pants...
of Who You Call Your Dads... !!!!!

SO DON'T Be So......... DISMISSIVE.........
of Heads Whose... Form of Wisdom...

When It Comes To Basic THINKING...
Is Something AGE Has Given...
THAT Like Nas' Said Is WRITTEN... !!!

OLD Artists DON'T Be Quitting...
Because NEW TRENDS Are HITTING... !!!
CHARTS And... Those Positions...
That Leave Them With...
TOM CRUISE Type Missions... !!!!!!!!

For Their ART To Gain MASS VISION... !!!
Come ON... OLD MAN Be FILMING... !!!!!

Like OLD Rockers Be ROCKING............ !!!!!!
And Hip Hop Keeps.... " EVOLVING "....

Or... SHOULD DO But It's Mocking...
What... OLDER Heads Had SET...

A Formula That Said....
BOOM BAP Right To Hip Hops' END... !!!!!!!!!!!!!

We Mean NO DISRESPECT... !!!

But Trends Get Left...
Where CLASS Is Kept...

In Art That YES Transcends....
BEYOND What's Hip Or The NEW LIK'... !!!!!

Take Some Time To THINK On It.............................

If Life Is A CYCLE That Circles Around... ???
Why Would It DIFFER When It Comes To SOUND... !?!

It's Studio SNIFFERS...
And TAKERS NOT Givers... !!!
Who Choose What Is... " COOL "...

They're Out FISHING For FOOLS... !!!!!!
Who... HAVEN'T BEEN Schooled... !!!

So Think That Their YOUTH...
Will Be The ATTRACTION...
That KEEPS Their Tunes BLASTING... !!!

While MANY Are Asking...
If Hip Hop's COLLAPSING... !!!!

NO Lyrics Or CLASSICS... ?!?
To Feed Todays' Masses... !!!

Because of The Way....
That The Music's... ARRanGeD... ?!?!?

NO... Bass Lines That BUMP...
Or Kick Drums That THUMP...

NO MORE Jazzy Grooves...
Or... Samples To Use... !!!

"Man, them styles are TOO OLD !!!
To now grab a hold, of young bodies and souls !"

I Guess That's The Way... ?
That The Story Unfolds............

Well ME I Don't Know..... ?
While There's STRENGTH In My Bones...
And MY BLOOD AIN'T Turned Cold... !!!

I'll NEVER Believe...
That I Like The Style....
That Makes My Art Flow...

Will EVER CONCEDE To It...

Being.............................. .

...... " Too Old "......
Age Is ... But A Number !
magicbroccoli66 Sep 2017
we is no kind *** we lik de nazoos
dewinch cakle esz wbi pnik hedponesw are chool in mi book
hoorecane irmia no es divertido., we here at buzfeed tink we no wot u are dooeng
mnanspred is de goood teng ti do evri dai
dundundunduncdundunduindunduindundundudn
pie.


gavery is dood cor my vanes
@foundboy
Here i sit heartbroken and dead
My last bit of blood for u i wud shed
I wud fight until i cant fight anymore
I wud walk beyond the limit as my feet get sore
I wud do just about anything wen it comes to u
I wud do so much tht u wudnt kno tht id do
If we were a couple i wud go out of my way
Jus to say to u "hav a nice day"
I wud treat u lik the only ******* earth
U jus dont kno how much to me u r worth
I want to cherish my life with u 
Its jus the fact tht u dnt even hav a clue
If we were together i wud keep one half of my hart and give the other to u 
Only so tht wen were together its not in two
Paul Hardwick May 2012
There is something here
deep in my brain
not sure what it is
but it calls to me again

I have been waiting for hours
Had some tea, sniffed flowers
Not sure what it is
But been waiting for hours

Yes know I remember it well
So i sing to you
let them fly lik birds
As I remember you now so well

But I have been waiting for hours
And what are you doing in my dream
Not sure this poem is over, but lost the threads... Paul

— The End —