"lly" poems
By Arcassin Burnham
Like I said,
There is no need to hide
Ripping out your entrails,
Punished for your betrayal,
You will prevail,
To be an enemy of Mine,
now thats pErfect grammar
Cause I'm actuaLLY attending to care to diss you,
The ******** unfit mother you are,
You should be in the slammer,
Your kids wouldn't miss you.
Now Thats Perfect Grammar
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 11:43 PM UTC
The versatile buttock abounds with
such uses as 'what you sit down with'.
Such a wonderful tool,
but what I find most cool:
‘tis an awf'lly fun thing to make sounds with.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 5:08 AM UTC
See. I'm.
No- fi- I
thi ne. was
ng I'm. up
is Go- rea-
wro- od, lly
ng. Okay late.
I had a snack before I came.
The. I'm
make. I'm Just
up. Not Tired.
Makes. Broken I
Me Don't
Look. Feel
pale. Well.
Yesterday was great
I just. I'm I just
Had. Ha- Like
A bad. ppy. The
Sleep. Style.
These are the threads
Of my web of lies
That I build above your heads
Strenghth ending everyday
My common day lies
Spun like spiders silk
Drifting unbroken in the skies
So plain it stands hidden
Entwined strings of excuses
To form a mask from the world
With a million uses
To fake that I am whole
Because I am the spider
Creeping through the day
Dangling off silk as my web grows wider
Trapping all the flies
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC
You’ve seen, I’m sure, my blog. Perhaps. Maybe..
(Am I being blasé?) I like, such things
Not found in mainstream minds; I guarantee
I’d rather be in ancient halls of kings,
Or fighting beasts in far’way lands than here.
Occasion’lly I’m Belle, at times I’m Croft;
I will admit at Ten dying I shed a tear
(Alright many), and a sweet man; but soft
What light through tumblr breaks? It is nerd boys.
Oh! They understand, and yet always are
In America, or some place far. Toys
I have never thrown away, but kept. Hours
I spend whiling away the days, online.
Nerd Girl I am, an awkward thing (divine).
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 8:12 AM UTC
Empty words from empty tongue;
empty thoughts from empty minds.
Your eyes doesn't convey the phrases
you're trying to speak;
you're talking so much without understanding it,
and you're just playing safe.
Distorted.
Your actions are torturing me.
Exploded.
From being imprisoned of that loud silence.
Even if you kneel for forgiveness;
even if you say thousands of apologies.
(It's fin'lly over!)
Each story of yours seems so unsound,
and I'm done accepting you (over and over again).
You left me hanging with no regrets,
guess what?!
I'm sick and tired crying bottles of tears.
Stand up!
Just burn yourself by the coldness of the ice!
You can do noting now,
when your sorry is not enough.
(It's fin'lly over)
Leave me alone with
no arguments,
and
no questions,
for I've given you already so many chances before.
Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 4:52 AM UTC
.
•the ••••••••
old man wi- ••••••••
thered•as suns ••••••••
would set....over ••••••••
many days•follies ••••••••
he committed, then ••••••••
unencumbered•fina- ••••••••
lly caught up...so now ••••••••
he pays • like an unca- ••••••••
ged bird, he had left his ••••••••
perch• not looking
back, leaving behi-
nd hatchlings and
nest• he discarded
his roots when he
left them in the lu-
rch• flew to pursue
what he had thoug-
ht was best•now he's
ailing thin.....he seeks
to reconcile • reached
to his sons...and left a
voice message•asking
atonement for his cri-
mes so despicable and
vile • for now he lays con- ••••••••
sumed.........by illness and ••••••••
rage•hours tick by as his ••••••••
days blur into weeks...• ••••••••
his frail breaths weak- ••••••••
en as he succumbs in ••••••••
bed•finally the call ••••••••
did come bearing ••••••••
the absolution ••••••••
he seeks• ••••••••
just a minute too late,
for the old man is already
dead•
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 10:24 AM UTC
life is energy conversion
thoughts are chemical reactions
you would see these are the answers
if you saw through your distractions
life is energy conversion
thoughts are chemical reactions
you would understand what i'm saying
if you looked passed your distractions
all that lies behind these eyes is
pumping blood and sparking flesh
a molecular symphony
nothing more and nothing less
human heart is just a part
and the body's a machine
we're already codependent
all our bodies are machines
all our lives are codependent
we're all parts in a machine
all that we think that we see
and perceive as reality
through the filters
of our senses
we miss that
which can't be seen
all our bodies are machines
all just parts in a machine
life is energy conversion
thoughts are chemical reactions
you would see these are the answers
if you saw through your distractions
life is energy conversion
thoughts are chemical reactions
you would understand what i'm saying
if you looked passed your distractions
...
fire is
a chemical reaction.
a beautiful and unique
energy conversion.
innocent consumption
sustaining itself
until it fin'lly dies out.
until it fin'lly dies out.
and so is
life
a chemical reaction.
a beautiful and unique
energy conversion.
innocent consumption
sustaining itself
until it fin'lly dies out.
beautiful and unique.
May 8, 2011
May 8, 2011 at 6:56 PM UTC
this is
a poem of a
bird, a duck to be tota-
lly specific .Although
there might
not seem any-
thing that duck-ish about this poem as you read
it, it will soon occur to you (if it has not already) that
this poem is really very special since it is not only
about a duck but it is in the shape of a duck...
You see this duck is called Gershwin and he
likes splashing in puddles so that is
what makes
he , him
does happy
all bec-
this is ... day ause
supposed to be a long . he
puddle .Yes it is and and that , is a duck!
a ....... too ........
........... ....... ... .
splash
look below......
......
...... ..................
......................
..............
.......
.
* this is the most weirdest poem i
have ever written and its just so RANDOM*
;p
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 12:19 PM UTC
juice box and soda pop
and post modern electronic rock
and
all these various things
ringing
through the halls of my dreams
where the memories
they slip and stack
and some come forth
and some push back but
in the end they'll return
for just,
one last look and I'll learn
about
all the things i never knew
were part of who i felt was true
i'll,
fin'lly see for myself
all these,
thoughts i've left on the shelf
like the
juice box and soda pop
and post modern electronic rock
and
all these various things
ringing
through the halls of my dreams
but as
nostalgia loses its grip
and memories begin to slip
back
to where they reside
buried
deep down and inside
my mind
will refocus on the now
and point forward
deciding how to
carry on with my days
find my
way through maze after maze
and at
days end when I lay to rest
i almost always feel my best
when
i return to my mind
free to
take whatever i find
and its
only in my dreams i feel
that maybe afterall i'm real
and
descartes would agree
if i
said i think i was me
back to
juice box and soda pop
juice box and soda pop
juice box and soda
pop
Jun 20, 2010
Jun 20, 2010 at 3:20 PM UTC
I used to loathe when tired, those who erred to disregard the pull of thoughts towards the complexities that make us who we are. Or perhaps the tug they never feel, the stinging ***** within the soul. That scratch that must be raked by nails until one feels they fin'lly "know."
I loathed the hedonist's sweet relief
The gratification and tunneled vision
The scarless frames, the husks they may be,
The innocence of things unseen-
I once would wish that I could be so null to that which mattered most. Its relative, but even still I wished that I was like those folks.
11:36p
8.28.18
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 11:39 PM UTC
*A Poeme from ye Penne of
ye right learned Professor Peter Buttocke
collected by hysse Pupille Edna*
There is an ancient Shittah in my Garden, eldritch and right dun in alle Aspect
Wherein dwelleth a loude and noisome Ouzel, ye like of which I have ne'er yet seen
Under thysse our goode Goddes fayre Welkin up in ye Skye above us alle.
This foule and unwholesome Beeste, with trespassynge shote-like ****** Effusiones
Hath performed ye veritable Antithesis of kindly horticultural Edulcoration
For whiche Sinne I shall emasculate ye Brute, so God may grant me Pow'r.
Sudating at ye Nostrilles I advance, my trustie Stang at ye ever-ready,
And I prepare to eject it from yon Pollard, having previous shattered
Alle its horryd Frangibles with one brave bolde frampold Blowe.
Thwacke! A last Piffero-reminiscent Warble escapeth loude from its fowle coronoid Appendage;
Right severe Damage and harsh fatal Ruine of Nature irreversible have I caused
To ye shaggie shamelesse little avian Runte, whereon Goddes smile hath ne'er dawned.
Thus descendeth it to the Faeces-bedecked Herdwick, and I titubate triumph'lly o'er its conticent Corpse.
And were there yet a duodenary Set of ye Frass-Depositors, I would not give a Demi-Testrel for their Survyvall
Should they e'er again infringe the sacred Privacie whych ye ancient Shittah enjoyeth in my Garden.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 6:37 AM UTC
our love is like the sun and the moon
we were unintentionally pulled by the gravity
you kiss the earth
I hug the night
I’ll say hello,
you’d wave goodbye.
perhaps we weren’t really
meant to be
mines the sand
yours is the wave
I was waiting for you
and will always be
but when you were there
it seems that you never cared
wiping every lil grains of me.
you stand so firm
you never seemed
the dusk collides
from earth I breath.
I stood here still
the river flows
I see your face
across the wildest coast.
I count your laugh
I hoped to smell
the life you had
though unaware
you made me dreamt..
it’s just the odd
who seems to know
I was soaked in the air
I was caught by the wind
I’m a shell in a reef
praying for someone
who'd fin’lly reap
‘tis untold love of mine
that once hath bloomed
in the unreachable soul
of thy calm aloof ocean.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 10:04 AM UTC
Now that time has unwinded
We're songs that are lost in the wind
And even though we're constantly reminded, we'll
Make our way back to them
So just take my hand, take my hand
I promise
That if you take my hand, take my hand we will
Find another land, no demands
I promise
That somehow we will be okay
We run through life with scratches and bruises
As our friends peel back their thin skin
The one who never tries is the one who loses
And even though we know it's there we can't begin again
So just take my hand, take my hand
I promise
That if you take my hand, take my hand we will
Find another land, another land
I promise you
That this is where we will begin
An empty casket lies upon the table
You look inside, there's nothing but a pen
And a single sheet of bright white paper
Left for you to write your memoirs to your best friend
But she has passed on, this is the song
You promised her
And it had better be worth every single word
But we're finally here, you are a dear
I promised you this
And we can fin'lly see eternity, my friend
We can fin'lly see eternity, my friend
Oh, we can fin'lly see eternity, my friend
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 5:41 PM UTC
at night, alone, it seems
my heart is ripping at its seams
torn by sunset's pull,
reaching out, for naught, it seems
my heart is ripping at its seams
the threads so caref'lly stitched,
tightly gripping my blood-bag's crease
waiting just for cruel fate's bite
or when the day turns into night
seeking, almost, to be forgotten,
lying, torn, only to turn rotten
inside me still, my heartstrings scream
whilst from their barren cage, pours steam
at daybreak, then,
my heart is mended
as though the night's events were pretended
i know now how
the blood can flow
and disregard
what i think i know
my mind is clear,
but it seems for naught
as again i feel the blood
begin to clot
slowing, beating,
struggling to rest
my eyes turn red
as the sun sets
with the star at noon
i feel relief
the moon incurs agony,
doubt, and grief
at night, the dark, alone
it seems
the ripping seams,
it seems…
are only in my dreams
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 8:25 AM UTC
The drama is Korean and called "Save The Last Dance For Me." I loved it until the final episode.
(sonnet #MMMMMMDXIII)
I watched those silver curtains whose thin veil
Down in the valley blotted trees with thence
But ghostly figures 'hind thet rainy sense
Of nowhere, while the greener Maples' tale
Just whispered on this hilltop like to scale,
And thought dreams were too pretty hence
Wrapt up with love in those refrains, til whence?
But how we punished these in sheer betrayl.
La. Why must even dramas skew in poor
Excuse the heroine? She suffered to
Effect and then some, 'til when fin'lly fer
All that they had all, she was crippled through
The villain. Wherefore must we ruin as twere
E'en that? The rain gone, midnight glowrs, deep blue.
23Jul17
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 8:25 PM UTC
Clay is shaped to yield for time
Half hour hopes of fin'lly crime
Life is brought from fire to clay
Beast will tend to seem helpful in the fray
Young five hold arms straight out; yell
Fighting ensues and sparks will swell
Great foe grows until thirty feet tall
He may have a chance after all
Mechanical five meet size change
The kids are yelling from kicks strange
Close vict'ry means twenty minutes
Have passed since clay formed for high hopes
He's clay one time more, the kids cope
I'm glad I woke so soon for this
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 2:22 AM UTC
All cats,
curious and lazy,
are cleft-lipped.
All humans
are a posteriori-lly
dependent and nosy.
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 5:49 PM UTC
You say no to writing, to speaking, to thought
Yet this evening you laughed as we bantered and talked
My heart is aflutter, my shackles are cracked
The guards have dispersed, my odds fairly stacked
The walls I constructed to keep me alive
Are no longer hiding the fear deep inside
I'm yearning for something I once thought oblique
But now fin'lly realize its linear streak
You once told me that there was no way to win
And to start life all over, to refresh once again
I've told you I love you through poems, books, and song
And now I will prove that, for once, you were wrong
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 12:12 AM UTC
Is the Earth REALLY round,
is water REALLY wet,
and will girls REALLY come to this school?
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 5:56 AM UTC
*they call me the mourning dove.
hallowed be my refrain.
i sing with a bleeding tongue-
beauty stems from my pain.*
you're slivered inside and derided on sight.
your abhorrent habits have cast fans aside-
your knack for dramatics belittles the tragic.
it isn't romantic. get over your strife.
*they call me the mourning dove.
hallowed be my refrain.
i sing with a bleeding tongue-
beauty stems from my pain.*
not all life is suffering- you're twisting it in your head.
psychosomatic pain's no reason to act dead.
you're wasting your youth with these childish blues.
self-pity is useless, contagious. get out of bed.
*they call me the mourning dove.
hallowed be my refrain.
i sing for my poisoned loves-
my voices guides them to their graves.*
stop worr'ying the wound and it'll event'lly heal.
quit floating towards koreyland- identify what is real.
if you wanna get better you gotta be brave.
face the pain and the rain or stay caught up in tears and weals.
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 2:34 PM UTC
My heart becomes
The beating drum
And I hear your Song
I see your trail
It’s light; it’s frail
And it leads into the wood
You laugh, you smile;
Though your life is a trial
And now I follow you
I’ll always stay true
My soul’s an empty blue:
It’s broke
Living in borrowed shoes
Walking on borrowed paths
This is the only ruse I feel
Following borrowed Light
Wandering in the night
As long as I find you
And now I see
The line of trees
And I feel the breeze
The path: it turns
My choices burn
An echo of my past
The black is near,
For now I fear
That your trail has fin'lly faded
And now I’ve become the hated
What was once infatuated,
Is lost
Living in borrowed shoes
Walking on borrowed paths
This is the only ruse I feel
Following borrowed Light
Wandering in the night
As long as I find you
Now time beats on
The dark is wrong
And I long for the dawn
My chains are cold
And I’m growing old
I need them to break
You have the key
But you won’t free me
And now I am fin'lly dying
And what’s worse: I won’t stop crying
So why can’t you just stop lying?
You care
Living in borrowed shoes
Walking on borrowed paths
This is the only ruse I feel
Following borrowed Light
Wandering in the night
As long as I find you
Living in borrowed blood
Walking on borrowed laughs
Wading on through the flood, I feel...
...I’m following borrowed hope
Wandering down a slope
As long as I find you,
As long as I find you,
As long as you find me
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 5:39 PM UTC
This is a poem called "Exterior."
I have tried to get your attention for so long now,
but you have never actua- lly noticed. So I have been
trying and trying and trying to write something about
you but it never really comes out cute. It just turns
into me whining about how you will not and
never notice me. Oh look, I did it again,
but perhaps if I organize this
into a cute lil' heart you
will kinda may-
be love
me
Oct 23, 2011
Oct 23, 2011 at 4:37 AM UTC
Stranger came into my nights, and changed it;
the stars shines along the eyes of the moon,
the wind blows perfectly where time meets dawn
and the seeds of thy journey grew e'en more.
This stranger showed the strands of ev'ry truth;
I could still see her between horizons:
whenever love is just, thus, love's a proof
ev'ry pain will be healed for ev'ryone.
The voice of an angel, so sweet and soft;
I fin'lly found one of those things I lost,
through the world laughed upon my countless fall
she were there to remind me of my worth.
She's the reason why sun rose inside me,
why I can still walk, though I stumbled down:
she offered love, thus, love is in return;
I never knew love until I found her.
I never knew love then, 'twas hidden
now, 'tis in my blood which runs through my veins:
for love be pured, thus, ne'er to be declined;
and only diamonds could break its kind.
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 4:08 AM UTC
Fire spread upon the heart
And you, well you tor mine apart
But just because the song won't start
Doesn't mean that we have to give up
And since the thought of you, it makes me weak
My lips are moving but I can't speak
Now the hope has fin'lly reached it's peak
We just have to let go and see where we fall
For now I know
That I can't let go
But maybe
Maybe
You can
And that's alright with me
Time is fleeting in my chest:
A cavity where birds make their nest
And yes, I once said it in jest
But believe me now when I say
That I'll follow you through blood and smoke
And your eyes are enough to invoke
My heart to laugh, although it's broke
The spiral ends in a pit
For now I know
That I can't let go
But maybe
Maybe
You can see
That now I am
A stronger man
And somehow
Somehow
You see
The good in me
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 8:11 PM UTC
We moved out west to Hollywood
And quickly settled down
Amongst the rich and famous in
The heart of Tinsel Town
I joined the local Lion’s Club
My wife, the PTA
The kiddos were ecstatic when
Invited out to play
They called for pick up early and
We asked them on the go
Just how it went with their new friends
In Nine 0 Two One 0
They answered back in unison
It wasn’t fun and games
These California movie stars
Give kids the strangest names
The Nanny said that we should play
With Coco on the lawn
So we made some in the kitchen
High-fived...and said, ‘Game on’
Were we to know that ‘Coco’ meant
A girl and not a drink
Oh, pardon our absurdity
And poured ours down the sink
About that time the Nanny said
That Apple was out back
So we patted on our tummies
Oh, fi-na-lly...a snack
Were we to know that ‘Apple’ was
A friend of Choc’late Moo
Of the sev’ral major food groups
We’d shared play time with two
About that time the Nanny said
That Blanket’s on the deck
We weren’t the least bit cold at all
But, wrapped up for a sec
Were we to know that ‘Blanket’ was
A boy and not a spread
The blankets back where we came from
Were folded on our bed
About that time the Nanny said
Tu Morrow’s on her way
And wanted us to stay until
Tu Morrow came--to play
We didn’t know ‘Tu Morrow’ meant
Not staying for a snooze
So we begged off playing longer
We were getting too confused!
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 3:58 PM UTC