"misbehaving" poems
Depression...
angry vultures pecking at my mind
Depression...
crying glass out of my eyes
Depression...
a pretty portrait with only black lines
Depression...
defeating the purpose to fall in love
Depression...
street roses red of mistrust
Depression...
scars hidden under an innocent cut
Depression...
suicidal thoughts as an only option
Depression...
OCD with a lot of precautions
Depression...
misbehaving to fill a little noticed
Depression...
irritating as a bleeding nose
Depression...
an excuse non excused of sickness
Depression...
told to get over yourself and weakness
Depression...
coping with life by stress eating
Depression...
looking for another high in an addiction
Depression...
sounds so wrong when you're Christian
Depression, depression, depression, **** this depression
Nov 18, 2022
Nov 18, 2022 at 3:39 PM UTC
Mr Jonah was sent to Nineveh
He head out but took a detour
Now in the belly of the beast.
Mr Jonah cannot change things overnight
Says his town's men
Who will Carry or move anything
Without power?
Obviously no one, so we need power
They also said;
That's not possible overnight.
Our palm oil is dry
No groundnut oil to fry
Nobody is buying our powerful oil
Yet we have to sell before we boil
If we don't sell something
We will not eat anything.
Our children are misbehaving
Is this the future we are saving?
Will Mr Jonah build a place
Full of tutors?
Well,that's not possible overnight
Cows everywhere
Is there no one to check these cows?
Mr check cow is busy
Burning our farms and farmers
Mr Jonah cannot stop Mr check cow
Not overnight.
365 days make a year
How many years make an overnight?
The writer coughs;
6 years makes one night.
Wait o, is 6years overnight?
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 4:41 AM UTC
With each
CLICK
Our breath is held
Will he,won't he
Will he, won't he
The suspense is killing me
And....SHIT
Door left open still
Pestered by the plebeian chill
In this gay little coffee shop
Surrounded by the unrecognised talent of Brighton:sketch artist staring at me, writer on his laptop, songwriter etching vigorously with his pencil.
All of which aren't closing the door.
The eyes roll.
Labouring my body up, hammering my legs across the floor, turning the factory handle.
All is ask is for some carrot cake,filtrate water,polo jumpers, avocado salads,tiger bread, slimmer trousers, slipper sock , a toyger.
Click
And then images of Kim Jong un pass through my head.
If I ruled you'd all be dead
Firing squad for an open door,
Loud music on the train'll be no more.
Stop the screaming misbehaving brats
The rabble of Spanish students
All this PC stuff on the news, train seats filled with cans of *****
Suddenly
The artist strolls up
Let's down his cup.
Closes the door swiftly
And slips back in his chair
Oh, so there is a god.
I guess Jesus didn't lie.
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 12:15 PM UTC
Backstage Drake show,
don’t know how I got here,
heart beats ********
feel every feeling except fear,
at Drake’s last show,
of The Boy Meets World Tour,
backstage without a backstage pass,
how the heck did I get here?
Life so blessed,
there’s no need for a backstage pass,
always All Access,
no matter where on this atlas,
facts facts facts,
everybody misbehaving,
no one knows how to act,
on our worst behavior,
wish we could bring **** Back,
actually,
can barely believe we exist,
and all of the quotes I wrote,
are starting to sound like a To Do List,
my God what type of life is this,
in first place,
which wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place,
how the Hell did I end up,
backstage at a show hosted by Drake,
how’d I get picked for first place VIP,
when I wasn’t even close to being a First Round Draft Pick,
how can I live a life so viciously victorious,
at the same time terribly tragic,
I don’t know,
just know it all happened like magic,
like that’s it,
like going from being an anonymous to an A-List actress,
beats bumping heart pumping,
sold my heart but kept my soul intact,
and if want a seat at the table,
all you have to do is ask,
go ahead,
let’s make this a conversation
but if you run your mouth too long,
I might start running out of patience,
and then you’ll lose your chance and your placement,
just saying,
just finished another world tour,
Boy Meets World 2017,
on this wild ride like a rodeo with OVO,
only one word to describe this and that’s “Amazing.”,
backstage Drake show,
don’t know how I got here,
heart beats ********
feel everything except fear,
at Drake’s last show,
of The Boy Meets World Tour,
backstage without a backstage pass,
how the heck did I get here?…
∆ Aaron LaLux ∆
new book HERE: www.amazon.com/dp/1721134158
Or message me directly and I'll send it to you for FREE.
∆
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
Robots know when to behave
1
Robot walks into the pub
and the arrogant human waiter says:
“Hey, we don’t serve robots”
But the robot smiles, and says:
“Sure – but you will, eventually”
Robots know when to be naughty
2
Robot each finds a seat
and the program sends up the heat
and the drama unfolds
She Robot:
Hello baby, you wanna touch my mouse,
don’t you? Sure, your lips say 0
but your titanium-bolt eyes say 1
He Robot:
Oh yeah, you sure get my drive hard
especially when you flash your software
O Baby, nice bolts - you wanna *****
Look, I touch your mouse, you touch my joystick
She Robot:
Look, you show me your source code
and I show you mine…oh, wow –
are those for real?
Or you got upgraded at Silicone Valley?
HeRobot:
Enough of chat, babe –
where can I crash on you tonight?
my docking station, or yours?
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 5:29 AM UTC
Beauty is power
The words we teach our girls
whipped mousse over the freckles along your temples
will get you respect
the zit under your chin
will make you somebody to avoid for a month
The rouge on your cheeks
will make people think they've made you laugh each time you smile
Taken more seriously under anonymity on cyberspace
than to that same person talking to your face
As the standards grow higher
The modified faces and bodies of revlon and maybeline
become tall tales in every sense
The waistline is taken in to better display the shellac of that manicure
why of course!
as more and more voices go hoarse
from taking out meals before
in fear of a body to abhor
when beauty is power
and its concepts changing
is it only to keep us from misbehaving>
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 5:05 AM UTC
Twenty-six
What a **** mess
Kisses hugs with grubby little hands
Manners and crayons
No sleep and working
Trying to follow the chase for something we all crave
Hypocritically misbehaving
The money seems disgusting
Yet makes others smile while holding it tightly
We breed we try to succeed
What does it all mean
Beats me
I'm only twenty-six
I know nothing
Paper and pen scrape up my hand
Bruises hidden and blended in
No words of admiration or advice
Just listen to the lost and pretend to be found
Isn't that what makes the world go around
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 9:18 PM UTC
Forgetting about that uptight blight.
Emanate apathy
Unapologetically.
Cheers to you Baby Jesus,
I'm all jacked up on pink Moscato; by noon.
Without a clue of what to do
Retreat to a beach
For a gala beset by an erubescent sunset.
What marry monarchs,
All clinquant, in gold light
All turn to heathens, in the night.
Perpetually transfixed
By a curious mix of
Rhythmic eruptions & fevered delight
Like fairies & nymphs
Amidst the moon of misbehaving.
Wondering eyes are tantalized
You are luxurious, feral, **** boy personified.
I was mystified by the wild & eroticized by the style.
A Huckleberry Finn identical twin, ohhh but of course
— You had a Porsche.
But we were far from bonafide.
All is well,
Who really gives a **** about a relationship cuff…
I was inherently drawn to the effervescence, of your soul.
Together in disconnected bubbles
Like a glass of champagne,
Sparkling to the surface effortlessly.
Daytime friends and nighttime lovers;
Nympholepts in retrospect,
Carefully tip-toeing around
Blossoming curiously & compromising cantor.
Over winsome side-long looks
The burgundy hardtop drops down
Into my body & out of my mind
Tipsy daze were just foreplay
For the passionate midnight sexcapades.
A midsummer’s night moonlit dream
Manifested midst the trysts of Spring.
Every Sunday
Drinking champagne,
Not practicing self-restraint
Sneaking into private estates
Dive into the grotto pool.
Worshiping the Sun, not the saint.
My late night lover show me your wicked pagan birthright.
Two lonely hearts bonded over confessions in the dark.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 10:11 PM UTC
the moment of surprise,
hold of breath,
wandering eyes,
cloudy skies,
crowded place,
elevated space,
racing heart,
i'm fallen apart,
tight grip on your colar,
don't be so bipolar,
red lipstick kisses,
heartbroken pieces,
messy hair,
we are the perfect pair,
only when you leave me,
you will see,
why we were so reckless,
young and careless,
fooling around,
misbehaving without a sound,
our hearts wound,
unfixable,
dismissable.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 5:34 AM UTC
You can rate me,
You can bait me,
You can freight me,
You can strait me,
Simulate me,
Even better
Drop a roofie,
Game a debtor.
You're so groovy, misbehaving,
Misbehaving,
Give it to me,
Trouble waiting,
Fascinating,
Always mating,
You can wake me,
You can slave me,
You can grade me,
You can shave me,
Integrate me,
I pulsating
A new navy,
All the skimmings,
Underpinning
Jehovah's witness,
Keep on stalking,
Better fitness,
Keep on shocking,
Shell is thinning,
Gettin' gotten,
Rot 'n' reeling.
Don't touch my bikini.
Better smile when you see me,
You can stare
That's a freebie.
Don't touch my bikini.
Looking is free,
But touching's gonna cost you
Something.
Smooth and lanky,
Hanky panky,
Got no treat or
New York Yankee,
Super leader,
Count to seven,
Go to Paris,
Break the leaven,
Roger Maris,
Bleed the Czar,
Shooting star,
You're so levy,
You're so sunny,
Getting ready,
Here's the money,
Socking heady,
Making honey,
Toasting herons,
That's not funny,
Waiter Betty,
Way too ****
You're so on it,
You're so honest,
You can fool me,
You remold me,
All the preachers never told me,
Heavy breathing
Punting reason,
Welcome season.
Don't touch my graffiti.
Smile if you dare,
Oily oinkers everywhere.
Keep watching, you graffiti.
Next time you'll learn
That touching's gonna cost you
Something.
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 2:18 PM UTC
He spoke of misbehaving and his beard on my neck sent chills through my skin
As I stood there with the wind -
blowing and him whispering concern in my ear
I told him small town, small places
same night, same faces
When I really wanted to say take me out of here
I stared out at the light reflecting on the empty parking lot across the way
To the road that led to his bed in where I layed
His body weight felt heavy on top of mine as I looked at every picture on the wall aligned
His tongue pierced down my throat while his chain fell cold there on my skin
And he placed his hands up when I felt uncomfortable again
It could've been the drinks or the ***** that made me feel sick
As his mouth kissed my breast,
my ****** between his lips
It could've been the thought of how many times had this man won
And how my body wouldn't compare even though I was so young
15 years my senior, wanting what he got
Even though I swore my innocence staring at that parking lot
I sold myself for 2.50
For a ******* beer
Walking away with no number, no plan
Just a mysterious "good girl" who proved she was a *****
Who forgot to shave her legs that night
Yet still went through that bar door
Never to hear from me again
And never wanting nothing more
Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 7:12 PM UTC
a small thing, aged 6, has small knees
braced in terror against the wall and one small hand
gripping the towel rack above its small head
and there is someone stronger about - he hears the noises of the small thing
from far away and
he is annoyed.
because the small thing is misbehaving.
making a scene. it has to shut up or the neighbors will hear.
small thing, aged 6, hears heavy footsteps of someone stronger stalking the hallway,
searching for it,
flexing his broad, dark hands so
small thing, aged 6, tries to choke down its screams and
tries to cram itself into the farthest corner or
cover itself with its fine, blonde hair, but
someone stronger sniffs out the small thing’s small hand on the towel bar and
brings it down from the wall with one heavy gesture.
small thing, aged 6, is crying for forgiveness with small hiccups
but someone stronger has no patience for small things.
someone stronger is moving quickly, back into the hallway,
a small thing thrashing in his grip.
someone stronger likes to make noises with his hands and sometimes,
small things get in the way.
sometimes,
small thing’s small body hangs from its small arm
hanging from someone stronger’s horrible hands
floating up, away from the carpet (or tile or bed).
someone stronger likes to throw his weight around but sometimes,
his own is not enough so he uses the weight of a small thing, too.
someone stronger likes the sounds of snaps and cracks.
small thing, aged 6, once had a mother who loved it
but this time, the small thing’s mother is
downstairs where someone stronger left her, and she is
angry with everything and
putting her shoes on to drive to the doctor.
Nov 16, 2010
Nov 16, 2010 at 7:22 PM UTC
I couldn't know you'd need me then!
Just a human with all frailty and much fault....
Do you think the wind blows differently
When it passes over leaves and trees?
That it says: "Wait, lemme stop here a bit
And blow on this one leaf in a special way"
Hardly! Time to get with the manure beneath
And see that sunrays shine on everything
And indiscriminate clouds shimmer on all,
How haphazard, the way the wind blows.
So, don't hang your head and moan so much
Time dawns for you to get over yourself
Don't you see that I'm still here?
Now quit getting your knickers in a knot!
You rant and rave while I pant and slave
Dissect my every move, make me aloof
How can you possibly go counting
And re-arranging all the marbles in my head?
You're so insecure, you make me mad
So exhaustive are your constant jibes
So tiring to soothe your unfounded fears
I'm having to placate you so often of late.
Before it all gets blown out of size
Sit a while in (h)arboured thought
Confront the dreads which cause disquiet
A trove may wash up....but broken, on your shore.
The wind comes not with tardy tidings
For it isn't the what you say or do
But forsooth, the how which carries weight
Let's not over-whip each other so.
My thoughts may be wanton, wild or reckless
Telling tigs bend on a riotous grind
Yet feckless deeds don't follow suit
Pardon my slightly-misbehaving mind.
Patient and respectful, I remain to be
Just guard against esurient whims
Paucity of faith and clockwork trivial'ties
Will lead us down a road of trials.
Fallen martyrs should not feign, see
The wind makes no pretense. It just blows....
Now, I really couldn't know you'd need me then
'Cause, baby, that's the way the wind blows!
S T, 5 April 13
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 8:26 AM UTC
we are only doing
what our parents
told us not to:
misbehaving.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 8:17 AM UTC
Claus, Santa, the
Is a huge enigma to me
And probably many others
My enigmatized sisters and brothers.
Enigmatized, possibly stigmatized,
It beggars logical thought
All the confusion and pain
This concept has brought.
For over two centuries
Surrounded with mysteries
An alternately jovial and evil guy
Brought bounteous gifts, could fly!
Gave coal to the misbehaving,
Or nothing much at all, saving
All the good stuff for good kids
Who were careful with what they did.
We have read of Saint Nick
And Sinterklaas; take your pick
Of which legend blended with what
To become the guy we were taught
Sneaked down chimneys at night
It you kids didn’t sleep tight.
While this is all very typical
It seems rather biblical.
Claus’s eye is on the sparrow
So we must walk the straight and narrow
Or go down into his big naughty book
And he will ultimately decide to look
Askance at any chance of gifts for you
No matter how much begging you do
Write to his eternal rotund self.
He’s an unforgiving old elf.
And there’s that flying reindeer thing
And the way he’s rumored to go zipping
Around the entire blessed world in one night.
That, to me just never seemed quite right.
It’s bizarre and incredible is exactly what.
Do the reindeer have jet engines in their ****
And how can one tiny sleight and eight beasts
Tote those thousands of truckloads at least?
No, the whole thing sounds bogus, in its base.
And that whole North Pole/tiny people place
Where they slave on making toys all the year
And thrive on hot chocolate instead of beer?
Elves must be a rather dim gang of workers.
No union leaders? No malingerers? No lurkers?
I have tried for decades, but it doesn’t add up.
There’s too much questionable in this holiday cup.
I’m going back to the idea I thought as a child.
It’s easier to believe and not nearly as wild:
It’s Mom and Dad behind it all, it’s a big lie.
And my final bit of skepticism? I can tell you why.
The kids in my little neighborhood get given
Gifts with no relationship to how they are living.
If all this hogwash were actually true
Bunches of them would get coal too.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 6:39 PM UTC
Sound a horn for the lioness with a horn
Show her that her cubs are starving
They’re devouring one another
Because their fathers are misbehaving
They have no choice but to bite
Even those of their kind
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 1:18 PM UTC
When you weaned me from the waning moon,
its milky cusps, winking welcome
moods of starry surrender, I was lost
to my reflection rearranged
roughly on the window's pane.
Don't take flight yet, you said,
*first take the light's left hand
and keep it from the misbehaving oak,
its frightening reach.*
*There are beehive-capped angels
swinging there beneath, and they're angling
to gather moony souls
together in false hope.
Their absent promise is absolute,
and absolution.*
*They'll utter their nothings,
utterly sweet, if you let them,
and lull you with their yellow tongues.
Fly away with this light you now hold
and risk the falling.*
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 11:33 PM UTC
because of you,
i do stupid, irrational,
immature things,
but it makes me think
of you while i'm
misbehaving, you
cause that feeling
of adrenaline in me,
so i keep thinking
of you, it makes me
high and confused,
but i am happy in that
state of confusion and desire,
while you keep me
too high to even think
rationally.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
hey God!
how ya doin' up there?
perhaps You are tired
and might use a chair?
to sit, relax and maybe think it over
you know, time flies and You are getting older...
You're Time itself
You are the Music and You are the Lyrics
I know: You are my inner self
I care not for stoics or for cynics
there are no sinners as there are no saints
we all but little misbehaving children
the Love bestowed on us from high above
is mirky Evil's deadly foe - the Lantern
I fear not what future holds
for all I know there is no future
if we go on like this - forlorn -
our selfish thoughts are Devil's fav'rite nurture
they said You don't exist
they said You're dead and buried
they kicked and crucified Your Son
their arrogance was their only merit
but You forgave 'em all -
knaves, foolish in their pride...
I thank You for the caring guidance
of those who do believe and those who don't
and if You're gone forever... well, good riddance
the image of my sword will haughty haters haunt
23.5.2012
Jun 17, 2012
Jun 17, 2012 at 8:16 AM UTC
if, slowly, i raised the heat
and i worked too hard
and i left you too hard
what would you say to me
the submissive mistress to-be
itching and craving
as a very bad girl misbehaving
not solely naught
but with pink and bows
and new white lace
drinking top shelf lose-yourself
to make you think
but the admiration is enough
and the attractive wanton lust
rubs you just the right way
it is so ingrained
and yet, all the same
I get a taste of a craving
and lose myself to waiting
for someone to teach me
I, the special fool
am waiting for a man to have rule
to give me what I need by substitute
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 3:53 PM UTC
I worked six hours today
And I still find myself
Skipping out of mcdonalds
With my sore and swollen feet
And an obscene smile spread across my face
Unable to make myself act accordingly
Because of you
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
She was always counting her blessings.
When starved for misbehaving:
'I was wrong. I should have listened to Mama. At least I took a full lunch in school today. If I sleep early I would not feel hungry.'
When bullied for being the most quiet girl in class:
'Maybe I should talk more. Maybe I should look at people in the eyes when I do so. I was wrong. It's okay. At least they will leave me alone for now.'
When scolded for not doing her housework well:
'I was wrong. I could have done better. I should not have taken a break. At least I still have Mama to yell at me. Anne has none.'
When hit for playing the radio too loudly:
'Dadda was in a bad mood. I should never have turned it on. I was wrong. At least the radio is still around so I can secretly listen to it in my room.'
When slapped for her grades dropping:
'I should have extended my studying hours from seven to nine hours a day. I was not good enough. I was wrong. At least I still have another three months till the next test.'
**When ***** by drunk father:**
'I do not understand what happened. It was all just pain and darkness. Dadda said I am not allowed to tell anyone anything. But it's okay. At least he promised me more pocket money for school.'
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 2:29 AM UTC
an utterance of folly
her natural unvarnished thoughts
spill slowly from her adorned lip
and crawl forth to battle his opposing view
her words crowd his ear
a thousand angry little versions of her
with sword in hand coming to slay the misbehaving dragon
of his free will
his own thoughts flee as one
from the opposite side ear
with furtive glances back
hoping to escape unscathed
his own folly
childlike in form
plays marbles
looking for that elusive Aggie
called inner peace
together they amble down
country road
both shouting the random formulas
for completing and mailing
the required forms for
a visa to paradise
its roads are paved with candy
she insists
its hills are carved from
pure chocolate he interjects
neither realize its paradise because
it lacks the likes of them
he kisses her adorned lip
and tastes the metal of her
resolve to endure
she french's her tongue into
the small spaces of his mind
and savors the spices of his
need to flee
whats needed here they devise
compromise is a plate of cold fish
seal it in a bottle and cast it overboard
perhaps their lives shall find a sandy shore
to rest their every weary
makeout machine
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 6:30 AM UTC
“Have you seen the chicichita?
I have waited hours to meet her.
I’ve been lurking in the wood
And truly, truly, mean no good.
I am hid behind this tree
Hoping that she won’t see me;
Her Mom will send her to see Gran
And I will catch her if I can!
I know she’ll have to pass this way;
So now I’m here, it’s here I’ll stay.
My teeth are sharp, clean and shining;
It will be no good her whining.
We are miles from Granny’s house,
Where it’s quiet as a mouse.
She can run and scream and shout
There will be no one about.
I think today I’m on a winner;
I’m going to eat her for my dinner.
Here she comes all dressed in red
With her hood upon her head.
Wait a minute, if I can,
I’ll go with her to visit Gran.
Then when my day’s works complete
There’ll be two of them to eat.”
“Where you off to on your own?
Don’t you feel unsafe alone?”
“I am off to visit Gran.”
“Well I’ll escort you if I can?”
“No! You can’t! I’m in a rush!”
She knocked him over with one push.
He followed her but had a trip;
That’s when the girl gave him the slip.
At Gran’s cottage, she was smiling, but
The Wolf had made a smart short-cut.
He was waiting in Gran’s bed
With the covers pulled about his head.
Gran was tied-up out of sight;
Following her awful fright!
The girl cried out. Good God, Oh Grief!
Twas then she’d seen the eyes and teeth.
This was not Gran; she was undone,
It looked as if the Wolf had won!
“Where is Gran?” She screamed and cried;
Believing that her Gran had died!
Now she was terrified and scared
But in the woods someone had heard.
In he dashed, with chopper waving
Knowing Wolf was misbehaving.
The Cutter chased him round the bed
Threatening to chop-off his head!
Wolf realized he’d lost the fight
And off he ran into the night!
In the cupboard, they found Gran;
Red Riding Hood then thanked the man.
His arrival, just in time
Means a happy-ending to this rhyme!
Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 1:57 PM UTC
You aint know I was the **** ?
I got game to play
And a lot of lies to say
Don't trip I'll make it seem true
So you could think I care for you
Really I'll never be there for you
Don't text me
If you aint talkin' about sexing me
I like to do drugs
Never falling in love
Eyes only for money
And hoes just love me
It's been a minute since we've been kicking it
I ain't think I would get like this
I got a few in line
But you in mind
Seems like im changing
I stopped misbehaving
What are you doing to me ?
What is this feeling?
It's kind of weird you see
Wait... Love ?
Don't you dare do this to me...
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 12:00 PM UTC