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"mischievous" poems
this is a tale of two star-crossed lovers with a love so powerful they tainted the heavens with bursts of colours they were never meant to be; mischievous little kids finding love in sinful glee in laughter, between dreams and reality and though it was lawless, they found solace because in every prison, they found a rhyme and a reason but even for a love so great, they could not escape the fates’ wrath and envy destiny pulled on their threads cut them loose, thrusted them into misery; for their memories were wiped clean, but feelings remained as strong as they had ever been the boy exiled in a far off land across the pacific sea the girl trapped in her need to break free in a realm both boring and bland ensnared in a labyrinth of woe the lovers yearned for anything— for something, for someone, to obliterate this endless longing the gods answered them in the form of two loved ones polished in every edge, a perfect someone but perfect felt too perfect and not perfect enough to fill up the hole left by a perfectly imperfect until one day the gods whispered for the winds to push the two and the birds to tug at their sleeves over mountain and sea even through the darkest valley so their paths would finally meet and so they did. in the flurry of a moment a pair of brown eyes met and time was frozen once more the two stared intently as if remembering a broken melody a lost childhood song branded as a wrong the birds fluttered and flew taking the cursed red fibre snipped them in two and the lovers felt all the lighter it was the girl who spoke first: **** the stars. i don’t want perfect, i want you.”* eyes dazzling, the boy nodded: *“we’ll invert the universe— the night sky a blank white the stars pitch black the earth moving in reverse”* the fates saw and surrendered as the stars began to wither for this love is love in all its splendor so the lovers walked away with a promise under their breaths, they both swore: *“i lost you once, but nevermore.”* ****
0
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 10:46 PM UTC
f*** the stars
this is a tale of two star-crossed lovers with a love so powerful they tainted the heavens with bursts of colours they were never meant to be; mischievous little kids finding love in sinful glee in laughter, between dreams and reality and though it was lawless, they found solace because in every prison, they found a rhyme and a reason but even for a love so great, they could not escape the fates’ wrath and envy destiny pulled on their threads cut them loose, thrusted them into misery; for their memories were wiped clean, but feelings remained as strong as they had ever been the boy exiled in a far off land across the pacific sea the girl trapped in her need to break free in a realm both boring and bland ensnared in a labyrinth of woe the lovers yearned for anything— for something, for someone, to obliterate this endless longing the gods answered them in the form of two loved ones polished in every edge, a perfect someone but perfect felt too perfect and not perfect enough to fill up the hole left by a perfectly imperfect until one day the gods whispered for the winds to push the two and the birds to tug at their sleeves over mountain and sea even through the darkest valley so their paths would finally meet and so they did. in the flurry of a moment a pair of brown eyes met and time was frozen once more the two stared intently as if remembering a broken melody a lost childhood song branded as a wrong the birds fluttered and flew taking the cursed red fibre snipped them in two and the lovers felt all the lighter it was the girl who spoke first: **** the stars. i don’t want perfect, i want you.”* eyes dazzling, the boy nodded: *“we’ll invert the universe— the night sky a blank white the stars pitch black the earth moving in reverse”* the fates saw and surrendered as the stars began to wither for this love is love in all its splendor so the lovers walked away with a promise under their breaths, they both swore: *“i lost you once, but nevermore.”* ****
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73
The sea, endless, magnificent blue Reminds me of your deep swirling eyes Looking at me with mischievous love Reflecting the big, open skies The stars of the dark night Remind me of the scars dotted on your skin Painting your body in loose touches Polaroids of everywhere you've been The Sun, in its bright glory Reminds me of your smile Radiating, powerful, from cheek to cheek Sadly, I haven't seen it in a while. And finally, I must say, my love I realize, as I finish this verse Before, I saw the universe in you Now, I see you in the universe
0
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 12:33 PM UTC
Reminded
Since you've been away I've trailed the wake of the clouds Just crumbling clay... That lay in the shade that enshrouds Depending on the ifs and mays.    Wake up, my love... Since you haven't been here The sky did nothing but only sang Ambient translations of mocks and jeers As the green blades of earth bared their fangs Mischievous songs that I've held dear.      Wake up, my love... Since you've been gone I've realised that I'm not moving And you too, haven't moved since last dawn A reality all too disheartening Bits of me all cut up and sawn.          Wake up my love... Since you've been missing I am never whole, and never will A lifetime of endless chasing Bottomless jar without a seal Void clustered emptiness in need of filling.             Wake up, my love... Since you've been absent I could only hope for this lungful To lead me to subsequent Ones that taste like bitter pills encapsuled. Mind full of drugs running rampant.                Wake up, my love... Since you wouldn't have known What these days are like... Time induced tumours have grown The hours impale with temporal spikes... Inseminating malignant thoughts soon to be sown.                   Wake up, my love... Since you've been away I'm a player hoping for a fair game Nonetheless still crumbling clay... That lay in the dark just the same Choking on the what ifs and what mays.
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Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 12:16 PM UTC
Wake Up, My Love
Witches are eating the toes of a troll with a spoon, boiling blood in a cauldron, and chanting mischievous lyrics in the silver moon. Feel their devilish ways cursing life, casting ugly spells and cackling at tormented suffrage and strife. Watch in horror while witches dance, stripping away sanity by carrying off hope with no redeeming chance. **** this nightmare caused by witches, hypnotizing minds by changing their appearances. Hunting desperate men for affection, seducing the weak to coerce their love like a **** infection.
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Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 1:26 PM UTC
Witches
"I could tie a plastic zip tie to my wrist real tight until the veins pop out just like a blood test when the nurse ties your arm with a rubber band. All so that i could pull a blade from its dull rotten scabbard, purposely rusty but very sharp and slice right through the plastic into my pale green flesh. Make it look like an accident, An act of carelessness, A fools play time with plastic and knives." Today was the first time, in a very long time, to re-entertain dark mischievous thoughts. Thoughts on taking what wasn't, isn't, and won't ever be Mine to begin with-- My Life. It is owned by, represented with three circles: Red, Blue, and Yellow. But it, I, was never fully accepted, almost shedding tears in a cell full of strangers, strangers i somehow knew but Strangers all the same. What got me through was a hopeful bubble that at each day's end, I'm reincarnated into a different world, A virtual one, Escaping my past life of which I am residing in.           An assasin running through rooftops,      A lone wolf learning to survive in a fictitious world,      A super soldier shooting bad guys all night long      Or straight up controlling the mind of a completely different being      (Thank the heavens for video games). But this is in no way A solution. It is temporary, not an end to a new beginning.
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Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
The Truth, no more Lies
Innocent eyes, Green and gold, Mischievous smile; The lips that they imagine teasing whispers come from. Just one glance And you'll know that she doesn't a man.
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
Green Eyes
A hairy ball of energy Who loves to run and play, Whose tricks and tomfoolery Would brighten any day. Almost hyperactive, Without doubt lively, Incredibly inquisitive, Exploring constantly. Chewing on everything, Peeing everywhere, Not fond of house training but slowly getting there. Extremely mischievous, Just wants to have fun, Loves to get pets from us, Each and everyone. Yapping so excitedly At everyone and everything, Such an incredibly funny Lovable little thing. Who looks at us imploringly With great big brown eyes That we fell in love totally Should come as no surprise This lovely little puppy Right from the start Became one of the family, Captured every ones heart.
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 3:46 AM UTC
Puppy Love
My aged mum excitedly points outside White flowers burst open bright overnight She says they look like popcorn I love her metaphor and play along Flowers white like popcorn bright Tickled by the heat of the micro light Mum speaks of small things in her big age Sun, rain, wind, hot, cold, quite days The unrelenting pain in her legs and memories of things she could once do with ease She speaks of the coming and going of mischievous monkeys real monkeys - not metaphors She tells of how they brazenly steal her fruit when she is alone at home - teasing her as they walk backwards out the glass door slinging their stolen bananas like a colt 44 My mum sits across from me the sun gently brushes her short silver grey strands of hair Today she wears a pretty pink dress - patterned bright with pretty pink and blue flowers - reflection of the pretty flowers outside She sits in serenity - she is at peace - inside My niece pops corn in the microwave My sisters biryani fills the hungry air My brother in law awaits his birthday party I am at home The pretty white flowers silently blossom in the yard I sit across from my metaphor mum My poet, my muse, my loving bard Stanley Arumugam Richards Bay
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Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 1:51 PM UTC
Flowers like popcorn
'twas a long hot summer day sticky air without a breeze concrete burning my bare feet cicadas screaming in the trees a triggered memory smelling honeysuckle scent, the way he looked at me remembering what he meant when I was sixteen with his mischievous grin and a squint in his eye he said, I hope you know how to swim in his old pick up truck as we rolled the windows down he drove us to this place in the woods outside of town off road, through a pasture to a watering hole, he found guaranteed to cool me off from spring fed water underground sweet talking me naked still not sure how he did it a memory now sacred my first time skinny dippin'
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May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 11:14 AM UTC
That Summer Day
I remember you from your beautiful smile your cinnamon scented hair your contagious laughter your nail-biting addiction your pointless insecurities to our silly inside jokes our dumb little fights our peculiar bets our goofy text messages through tears and smiles you were the only one who understood my unspoken words my concealed pain my unexpressed happiness my puzzled feelings counting your days we recalled our mischievous memories when we danced in the rain when we rang doorbells and ran away when we pranked the gullible ones when we stole Ikea pencils when we fangirled over stunning guys when we were together everything turn into excitements moments with you I remember them all, Grace it was a week before December twenty-fifth when the monstrous cells stopped your heart a glimpse of smile appeared upon your face as you're being taken far away from us skin turned pale body stiffened tears flooded my sight there were wailing across the room time flies like a bullet train without you it's a rainy day today you've always loved rainy days sinking my knees in the dew-wet grass raindrops whisper in my ears as I brush off the gray snow from your stone I still remember you, Grace I still do
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Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 5:27 AM UTC
For My Grace
You feasted yourself with the beauty you saw in front of me. The smiles, the laughter, and the nonsense talks behind those mischievous glances. Yet you never cared to look or even spare a glimpse at the scars branded at my back.
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Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 11:09 AM UTC
Feasted in Half
Here I stood with ***** crystals beneath my feet and waited for the sky to turn golden. Here I laughed into the echoing tunnel under my home as wet earth dripped on my skin. Here I learned about parenthood among feathers and little eggs and ungodly morning crows. Here I gloated about the manhood which sprouted from under my arms and in my mischievous thoughts. Here I waited till dark to meet him in secret all the while dreading the sound of tires on gravel. Here I buzzed with excitement as the boys had their lazy Sunday afternoon. Here his freckles came close to mine as he softly said "you're so beautiful" with Bruno Mars playing in the background. Here I said I would never grow up. Here I comforted her with my pain because I had to be brave. Here I forgot that being called "muddy children who act like savages " was considered an insult. Here I cried into the stars for reasons I didn't understand. Here I walked on hands and feet with happy little scratches and silent giggles. Here only the sound of our beating hearts and delicate pride could be heard as I held him close. Here I sang at the top of my favorite tree and waited for the words to hurt him as much as he hurt me. Here the glow of a flashlight illuminated our tent as I asked her if she liked me like that. Here a little piece of me was left sitting on a branch waiting to capture the next magical heart. Here I wrote "I love you" on a mango leaf only to realize that he spelled love differently. Here I sat beneath bright green trees and pondered my not-so-complicated life. Here my words came out blurry and my stomach swayed like a sail boat out on a windy morning. Here my hands went numb as I raced to the end of his life. Here I visit through pictures and messy journals to remember the little things that are now so so big. Here I left muddy footprints now covered with grass, but here they will stay.
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Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC
Muddy Footprints
Here I stood with ***** crystals beneath my feet and waited for the sky to turn golden. Here I laughed into the echoing tunnel under my home as wet earth dripped on my skin. Here I learned about parenthood among feathers and little eggs and ungodly morning crows. Here I gloated about the manhood which sprouted from under my arms and in my mischievous thoughts. Here I waited till dark to meet him in secret all the while dreading the sound of tires on gravel. Here I buzzed with excitement as the boys had their lazy Sunday afternoon. Here his freckles came close to mine as he softly said "you're so beautiful" with Bruno Mars playing in the background. Here I said I would never grow up. Here I comforted her with my pain because I had to be brave. Here I forgot that being called "muddy children who act like savages " was considered an insult. Here I cried into the stars for reasons I didn't understand. Here I walked on hands and feet with happy little scratches and silent giggles. Here only the sound of our beating hearts and delicate pride could be heard as I held him close. Here I sang at the top of my favorite tree and waited for the words to hurt him as much as he hurt me. Here the glow of a flashlight illuminated our tent as I asked her if she liked me like that. Here a little piece of me was left sitting on a branch waiting to capture the next magical heart. Here I wrote "I love you" on a mango leaf only to realize that he spelled love differently. Here I sat beneath bright green trees and pondered my not-so-complicated life. Here my words came out blurry and my stomach swayed like a sail boat out on a windy morning. Here my hands went numb as I raced to the end of his life. Here I visit through pictures and messy journals to remember the little things that are now so so big. Here I left muddy footprints now covered with grass, but here they will stay.
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22
To each its own I sincerely dwell, Mischievous wonders, spiteful wishes to hell. To strongly hate, or slowly mistrust, The things we had, a history in rust.
0
Mar 16, 2011
Mar 16, 2011 at 4:49 PM UTC
Unfaithful, Ungrateful
One fine morning on my way to work I met a real dinosaur in big boots and a mischievous smirk I’m kinda lonely he said just visiting this town I don’t have any friends and thats bringing me kinda down He looked kinda sad with his tiny Dino eyes I’d have to call in late and explain it to the office guys First we went out for ice cream then we played a video game He cracked a lot of dinosaur jokes which were all kinda lame When he would laugh his mouth would open wide Which sorta kinda scared me and made me want to hide His Dino tail would wiggle and his laces would always come loose It was funny trying to watch him tie up his dinosaur shoes Then we went to Iceland and all the rides were cool It was really spectacular seeing a dinosaur floating in the swimming pool Then we were really hungry and we went out to dine He scared all the waiters and waitresses and drank up all the wine I climbed up on his back and he went for a run Omigosh this day was perfect I was having so much fun Everywhere we walked people screamed and ran at the big stomping dinosaur causing all the traffic jams If only they would listen If only they could see Mr. Dinosaur is just a nice guy just like you and me Our perfect day was over Dino had to go back home probably back to Jurassic Park and left me here alone Next morning at work was a ****** such a tiresome bore I just wanted to leave the office and run out the office door When the clock stuck five I finally decided to leave I left my dull office and Lo & behold I just could not believe Standing before me in front of my very eyes stood my dinosaur buddy what a nice surprise! We talked and talked for hours even after dark and when the day was over I decided to move in to Jurassic Park Now we’re never lonely Dinosaur and me Dinosaur has a friend and I have family
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Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 4:17 AM UTC
I Met a Dinosaur
One fine morning on my way to work I met a real dinosaur in big boots and a mischievous smirk I’m kinda lonely he said just visiting this town I don’t have any friends and thats bringing me kinda down He looked kinda sad with his tiny Dino eyes I’d have to call in late and explain it to the office guys First we went out for ice cream then we played a video game He cracked a lot of dinosaur jokes which were all kinda lame When he would laugh his mouth would open wide Which sorta kinda scared me and made me want to hide His Dino tail would wiggle and his laces would always come loose It was funny trying to watch him tie up his dinosaur shoes Then we went to Iceland and all the rides were cool It was really spectacular seeing a dinosaur floating in the swimming pool Then we were really hungry and we went out to dine He scared all the waiters and waitresses and drank up all the wine I climbed up on his back and he went for a run Omigosh this day was perfect I was having so much fun Everywhere we walked people screamed and ran at the big stomping dinosaur causing all the traffic jams If only they would listen If only they could see Mr. Dinosaur is just a nice guy just like you and me Our perfect day was over Dino had to go back home probably back to Jurassic Park and left me here alone Next morning at work was a ****** such a tiresome bore I just wanted to leave the office and run out the office door When the clock stuck five I finally decided to leave I left my dull office and Lo & behold I just could not believe Standing before me in front of my very eyes stood my dinosaur buddy what a nice surprise! We talked and talked for hours even after dark and when the day was over I decided to move in to Jurassic Park Now we’re never lonely Dinosaur and me Dinosaur has a friend and I have family
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68
*The naiveness of morning sky tempting the sun to show his mischievous side, the winter sun kissed the horizon making sky blush a deeper shade of Crimson !!*
0
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
December Morning.
my whispers, they float over the currents braving the undulating waves in our overture... around their necks, hung time-worn pendants whispers... struggling to convey my sentence like wreaths adrift perhaps with hope like a requiem filled perhaps with remorseful penance but more like weakened footholds on a slippery slope... this dream... only spoke grandly of sprawling blackness where nothing did gleam only thoughts heavy but... oddly weightless except for... a repertoire of transgressions... raucous and obnoxious mischievous taunts that pull me back caging me, enslaving me, smothering me senseless that was my consciousness where second chances exist... in faint sporadic eruptions through the heavy curtains of uncertainty's mist finally awakened by hastened breaths heavy and laboured as like previous temporary deaths I could hear my heart thumping... beating... fighting... to set its beats apart breathe deep... allow the new day's air sink in rise fully from sleep wake up and... let today begin
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Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 8:01 AM UTC
Unsettled Heart
Twins of opposites, cradled upon Darkness & Light, Each brought up in the beauty That beholds each, Darkness looked upon all of it Surrounded, it had beauties not Seen, elegance beheld The sky at night, the opposite twin Sparkled, Flickering, Glints, Gentle pin drops in the heavens, Bringing a mergence of both "A beauty to behold" Down to earth all sleep Embraced in the  silence Entwined in night, The gift given away from  light And so Illumination Radiant Light Did end the time of  darkness And so one twin left for the others Time so shine on and all was seen In all it glory, but even in light there is Darkness But not of the twin, but of mankind's heart It was a contrast of the twins, Shifting, Changing, Mixtures Of both at once, But light was good For beauty shined through, every inch It gave light, nurturing growth That all reached for above As if to touch the giver of life, Darkness could have fun with light Taking the sky up before the light Eclipsing Overshadow Shrouding Taking the limelight away from its twin, But the mixture of both, excites Those below, the spectacle of each If only for a short time in the skies above, So the twins are of Darkness and Light Play with each ones given talent, They were mischievous but each held Their own beauty and dangers, But they are twins of opposites, From the beginning till the end of time.
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Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 12:08 PM UTC
Twins Of Opposites
many stories beforehand have warned me about the likes of you ones that brightly blaze radiant majestic mischievous ones you should never allow yourself to come close to love but it was cunningly inevitable our tale of two you were the sun and I was Icarus i was meant to fall for you
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Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 6:22 AM UTC
The Fall of Icarus
They all can see They stare at us with eyes squinted Prying mischievous eyes Our every move noted At the corner of my eye I can see them exchange glances. Whispers roam and coat my senses Let them know Let them see This love is different Why can't it be? All we want is to be happy To love who we want Body and soul freely. They don't understand We don't have to make them understand We just need to hope that maybe Our happiness can be their happiness. Barricades of questioning and disgust Their opinion doesn't define us Stand proud for you are strong Defying the boundaries of love itself. Are there even boundaries?
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Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 9:36 AM UTC
I ship gays. Problem?
from the start I should've saw your mischievous heart Like the girl who talked to you when we were eating lunch "But, you said you had a crush on me." she exclaimed, yet I didn't have a hunch. you're.. a player. I should've saw any sign. but slowly the shards of painful memories pass by that I find you took two girls to the homecoming dance, but before that, we had our first romance why did I trust you to be loyal maybe because I was blinded with love and was treated royal there was too many signs... Like the messages I saw on your phone when I checked the time, that person calling you the same loving names you wanted me to call you? her name, "Alaina?" You convinced me it was just a "role-play" and I didn't see any red flags? I just wanted to believe you loved me the girl's name, Alaina ...who is Alaina?
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 7:07 PM UTC
I should've saw the signs
Happy Valentines Day If Venus child Come loves melody sing I shall break the bow And slash the string If he dare to infect me Trick my heart into desire Seasoned on a spit he will be Roasted in a blazing fire Conniving Whisper sweet nothings in my ear Tear off his wings Turn my eyes from his tears Not by the all the gods decree Will I commit my love to another Binding his mischievous hands Return him swiftly to his mother My warnings are clear Unheeded Towards me he point the arrow His last sweet breath This cherub shall inhale Never more see the morrow This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base.  All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby
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Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 8:46 PM UTC
Child of Venus
I wrote a poem on a bus but to hear it you must climb to the top of the bouncing metal stairs.    Slither snake-like past the rail and sit on the rainbow nylon bench.    I'll be there at the top of the bus, reciting my rhyme, written as we ride along, past shops and houses with musty nets and peeling paint on dingy doors.    There's the old woman who lives in a house no bigger than a shoe box who had so many children she didn't know what to do! But they've all grown and flown now and she's all alone with no-one to talk to but herself.    Look at that kid: grimy smile and mischievous eyes, skateboard-scuffed knees, darting out from the roadside. Screech! As we stop and angry words. The kid glances back and tosses a vee leaving just his smile behind.    The bus lurches on at a snail's pace and stops at a stop for a giggle-girl-gang to chatter up the stairs with a clatter of feet and voices:   weekends and boyfriends, music and laughter. The bus trundles and sways past shops all shuttered, old folks gathered by doorways talking about people dead and forgotten ... except by them.    Into the town now: a river of road-rage as our bus ambles onward toward car-parks and markets and rat-racing shoppers    And stops by a brown pigeon-stained temple of public philanthropy, a gift from a long-dead civic leader and now proud home to dogeared tomes of PC persuasion.    Our bus, like some Trojan horse, disgorges its riders who spatter and scatter like rays of dawn light to shop till they drop.    So, just me and you seated atop the steel stairway and you say to me sharply, “So where's your poem then?” I look at you strangely: “It's happened around you,” I tell you quite curtly.
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Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 11:35 AM UTC
On a Bus
I wrote a poem on a bus but to hear it you must climb to the top of the bouncing metal stairs.    Slither snake-like past the rail and sit on the rainbow nylon bench.    I'll be there at the top of the bus, reciting my rhyme, written as we ride along, past shops and houses with musty nets and peeling paint on dingy doors.    There's the old woman who lives in a house no bigger than a shoe box who had so many children she didn't know what to do! But they've all grown and flown now and she's all alone with no-one to talk to but herself.    Look at that kid: grimy smile and mischievous eyes, skateboard-scuffed knees, darting out from the roadside. Screech! As we stop and angry words. The kid glances back and tosses a vee leaving just his smile behind.    The bus lurches on at a snail's pace and stops at a stop for a giggle-girl-gang to chatter up the stairs with a clatter of feet and voices:   weekends and boyfriends, music and laughter. The bus trundles and sways past shops all shuttered, old folks gathered by doorways talking about people dead and forgotten ... except by them.    Into the town now: a river of road-rage as our bus ambles onward toward car-parks and markets and rat-racing shoppers    And stops by a brown pigeon-stained temple of public philanthropy, a gift from a long-dead civic leader and now proud home to dogeared tomes of PC persuasion.    Our bus, like some Trojan horse, disgorges its riders who spatter and scatter like rays of dawn light to shop till they drop.    So, just me and you seated atop the steel stairway and you say to me sharply, “So where's your poem then?” I look at you strangely: “It's happened around you,” I tell you quite curtly.
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62
It's Not love yet, but I wanna make love to you , too early to decide, What this connection implies. Wanna just feel your body, That mischievous smile makes my senses shoddy Wanna just touch your smooth skin, Your silky hair and that grin, The kiss of your lips, a beat my heart skips. About last night, Guess, I wasn't thinking right, Even i don't wanna stress out Let the time pass and see how it turns out.
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Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
Love Vs Lust
No more than a rumor Or a legend spoken in whispers Mischievous folklore Foretold around campfires About a man Skin black, birthed under an Eclipse Who stalks the dark forces Casting his might over them Fending off the evil Which festers across the land Bleeding gold ink That soils the crop and livestock Wherever life thrives Evil musters its footprints But wherever it may be He is there Baffling their kin Striking like thunder Swift and silent Like the humming katana Making clean kills And fading back into thin air Being seen as a ghost When more is known of him For he is flesh Great in heart And vibrant in sight As the father of judgment Carrying out his given cases That are closed by his steel hands
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Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
Birthed Under an Eclipse
My seed, my seed, why do I despise thee? Never, have I been respected for my Generous gifts given in between thighs. One mischievous night that I could not flee And now I’m bound to you through my money. I did not want you; now you’re always nigh You somehow stimulate every sigh Laud’num doesn’t dull your presence, my seed. Sometimes, I think – but no – my mind’s tangled. Red *** riddles reveal… nothing. I find These psychotropic fantasies have slid Beyond me and you, I could not wrangle. Years will pass ‘til we meet, but the check’s signed Because ********* my seed, you’re my kid.
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Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 2:32 PM UTC
Deadbeat Dan DiNero