"likw" poems
Right or wrong
Short or long
Agree or disagree
When singing a song
Ape or kong
Blunt or kong
When you're high
Its like you're living a life of a person from Hong Kong
Persuasive talker
Convincing stalker
Both of these are mind players
But I'd rather choose to ignore them with a bottle of Johnny Walker
Subconscious mind
Left behind
Likw a hypnotist I'll pursue this until I find
Blame it on the left
Decision making
The oven of thoughts
Busy opinion baking
Anxiety is close
Hands are shaking
All of the mess I made
I'll be out there raking
Mostly its pressure from your peers
Flowing through your ears
Seems like you've conquered most of your fears
And then peers begin to cheer
Sensors begin to hear
That you were wrong to listen to them,dear
Its...
One thought to another
Disrespecting you mother
Ignoring your father
Cause' you'd rather...
Party till the morning
Drink while you're yawning
Get drunk until you sleep on the lawn and...
Drink and jive
Drink and drive
An accident happens
Then you're no longer alive
But you thought you'll survive
That's because death gave you a high five
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 7:04 AM UTC
What a relief to set aside
my mechanical pencil
and write with you,
O Ballpoint Pen
found at the bottom of my pen box.
On your side is engraved
“Samy’s Camera.”
Did I walk out with you by accident?
or was it on purpose,
beguiled by your sleek, cool body
as you nestled into my hand
and I clasped you tight
likw my boyfriend in a steamy nightclub
dancing slow to Moon River.
Was I writing a check for
a roll of Kodak film,
ASA 400?
Or was it more recent?
Purchasing a digital mini-camera
to carry in my purse?
Before cellphones took selfies so flawlessly
that I tucked my Sony
into the dresser drawer
behind my underwear.
It lies abandoned
soon to be joined by all my
mechanical pencils.
You, my Pen, are my reliable companion
who will record lists for me:
To Do lists
Shopping lists
Birthday lists
Laundry lists.
You will record why my lover
doesn't want me anymore, but
I will tear up that scrap of paper
as soon as the ink has dried like blood,
that heartless man,
unworthy of the ink I waste on him.
O beautiful Pen,
sleek as the fur on a cat,
smooth as a gin and tonic,
solid as his hand on my breast.
for merely.
I hereby relinquish my mechanical pencil,
whose lead keeps shattering.
But you, dear Ballpoint Pen, I can press hard.
And how much more beautiful
with you
are the curves of my words.
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 9:08 PM UTC
She want to get out
She's waiting to set free
Shes planning to have control all over me
Shes the monster i can not hold
Shes the part i try not to show
I caged her inside
Yet she's peeking through the holes
Im scared but I can not show
Shes the darkness shes my demons
Her freedom is deadly
letting her outis wrong
Shes something I can't control
Never thought I can
Never thought shes strong
She kills lies betrays and steal all in order to grow
Shes carving on the walls
Shes likw my shadow
I know shes there
I see her in the mirror
I see her everwhere
I dont want to give in
I don't want to let go
I don't want to be the one caged inside
I don't want to just watch
I want to take the lead
I don't want to be scared
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC