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"moron" poems
I feel like I am neurologically deficient That a lot of my brain cells are missing Like a punch drunk doped up punk boxer A pimply muscle bound ***** on steroids Hanging out at my old high school locker No shocker that I am no medical doctor But I always thought I’d be just a bit better I guess on average I am a little bit smarter But the bar is set so low that it requires Very little to grow and go over it, you know In comparison to the other young men I may be grandstanding and one upping them But when it comes to grand scheme of things When compared to past people Who shared my glorious dreams Like Percy Shelley and John Keats Like Ginsburg and the other Beats I think I am drifting of course just a bit Lest we all forget the **** cut the crap to fit in it Maybe I’m okay few travel this way anyways So who’s to say if I’m doing it the wrong or the right way But I still feel like my brain needs a chemical treatment A diet with more nutrients and sufficient Supplements Because I’m feeling neurologically deficient
0
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
Feeling Deficiant
Holi, a hearty enthusiastic festival in horizon Colours curdling, water washing every ***** Out of us evil ever going and playing on Land of character cherished by coloured lawn. What a scene to see! Gracious glory gone If you miss this mesmerizing festival upon A folly. Foolish will be called such a conn. Holi, a hearty enthusiastic festival in horizon Holy played in school is highly pleasing crayon, For Kinar, Aayushi, Kunal. Aryan or John. Monorhyme has one colour, holi many micron. Mital, Mitesh, Vaikhu, SIddhu, Saurabh are don. This day even principal thinks to prevent throne And join joy with teachers - see anxiety thrown. Holi, a hearty enthusiastic festival in horizon Songs, screams; dance, D.J.; homage and hymn on; This day with Holika heavy burdens and sins thrown. Cruel Hiranyakashyapa was killed; glory was won. Kunal, Arpita, Sandeep, Amit and Shreyas on lawn Play water and colours with cool Pari’s scone In Jalgaon, Agra, Kanpur, Karanja, Surat or Bonn. Holi, a hearty enthusiastic festival in horizon
0
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 4:22 AM UTC
HOLI FOR SCHOOL ASSEMBLY IN ALLITERATION
Oxymoron Oxford ***** Oxford-y ***** Moronesque Marked on ***** Boron ***** Down on the floor on Do the dinosaur-on ***** Water pour on Out the door on Oh baby Give me more on Adore on Implore on Slam a door on a *****
0
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 7:55 AM UTC
Oxymoron
I hate Science I hate Technology Neither Am I Orthodox Nor I am Fool I am not a ***** But still I choose to hate Science and Technology Both gave us many things I remember, there was a time I worshipped both of them They produced machines for us They produced robots for us Machines started building Homes, Bridges and Flyovers Machines helped us in Food and Cloth Production Milk and Silk Production And Blah Blah Blah Blah They made our life easier They made our life safer They provided better security They provided better tools They made our life longer They made our life smarter They gave us rays of hope They promised much more They promised more Freedom They Promised Leisure Time They promised better Environment They promised clean Air, Water, Soil They Promised Harmony and Peace They Promised Equality for All Both Science and Technology Progressed exponentially day by day But something went wrong Someone captured them Hijacked them and misused By applying their ***** minds We still have Machines and Robots We still have Logic and Skills But where is Freedom and Peace? Where is the clean Environment? Where is clean Water, Air and Soil? Where is the promised Leisure Time? Now we also have Nuclear Bombs We have weapons of mass ****** We have smart tools for our Extinction We have weapons of mass Destructions Robots are being transformed From Robots to Human Beings Humans are being transformed From Human Beings to Machines Yes Slavery is back in the Game Machines have enslaved Humans Robots have been granted Citizenship and Civil Rights Machines have been made ready Ready to wage war against humans The question is who is the culprit? Is it Science and Technology? No. Not at all. I know this very well But I still hate Science and Technology The real culprits are the hungry Capitalists Who captured, hijacked and misused Science and the Technology for their greed Though they have all the things they need Science and the Technology easily surrendered and allowed themselves to be used for their greed This is why I Hate Science and Technology I also hate Capitalism and Capitalists too But I have a big question for Myself. I still doubt - "Can I really live without Science and Technology"
0
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 8:02 AM UTC
I Hate Science And Technology
I hate Science I hate Technology Neither Am I Orthodox Nor I am Fool I am not a ***** But still I choose to hate Science and Technology Both gave us many things I remember, there was a time I worshipped both of them They produced machines for us They produced robots for us Machines started building Homes, Bridges and Flyovers Machines helped us in Food and Cloth Production Milk and Silk Production And Blah Blah Blah Blah They made our life easier They made our life safer They provided better security They provided better tools They made our life longer They made our life smarter They gave us rays of hope They promised much more They promised more Freedom They Promised Leisure Time They promised better Environment They promised clean Air, Water, Soil They Promised Harmony and Peace They Promised Equality for All Both Science and Technology Progressed exponentially day by day But something went wrong Someone captured them Hijacked them and misused By applying their ***** minds We still have Machines and Robots We still have Logic and Skills But where is Freedom and Peace? Where is the clean Environment? Where is clean Water, Air and Soil? Where is the promised Leisure Time? Now we also have Nuclear Bombs We have weapons of mass ****** We have smart tools for our Extinction We have weapons of mass Destructions Robots are being transformed From Robots to Human Beings Humans are being transformed From Human Beings to Machines Yes Slavery is back in the Game Machines have enslaved Humans Robots have been granted Citizenship and Civil Rights Machines have been made ready Ready to wage war against humans The question is who is the culprit? Is it Science and Technology? No. Not at all. I know this very well But I still hate Science and Technology The real culprits are the hungry Capitalists Who captured, hijacked and misused Science and the Technology for their greed Though they have all the things they need Science and the Technology easily surrendered and allowed themselves to be used for their greed This is why I Hate Science and Technology I also hate Capitalism and Capitalists too But I have a big question for Myself. I still doubt - "Can I really live without Science and Technology"
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72
------------------------------------------------------- Time Is Alway's Tikking And Tokking Never Ever ******* Stopping Hear The Clock Tik Tok Tik Tok Tik Stop Time's Figting Get Up And Start Realizing Look Around You Ungrateful ***** ----------------------------------------------------- LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL -----------------------------------------------------
0
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
Time
My ancient cell phone died. Had to replace it with a smart-phone. Samsung Galaxy. No Choice. Smart-phone my *** nothing but a hassle since I got it. Phones should make phone calls. I don't want the weather in Ukraine. I don't want people texting me. (What the hell is texting? *** LOL. IMHO.) Don't want to play games or listen to music. Sure as hell don't want to watch movies. What kind of ***** watches movies on a phone? Ned Ludd where are you? Call me if your phone works. We need to make some plans.    ~mce
0
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 7:43 PM UTC
******* New Phone: A Lament
What does it mean to be a Chicano/Latino in the US? What does it mean to be Black in the US? What does it mean to be a minority in the States? You know what that means...it means that we have a lot to prove   As in the words of Booker T. Washington: "When a white boy undertakes a task, it is taken for granted that he will succeed. On the other hand, people are usually surprised If the ***** boy does not fail. In a word, the ***** youth starts out with the presumption against him." Now in a society where institutionalized racism, Or racism without racists, prevails We are disenfranchised from even being considered youth. We are a bunch of wetbacks, idiots, moron...you name it, Where failure is expected of us... ...but enough is enough, we should not abide to the stereotypes And stigmas that society stamps on our foreheads. As a matter of fact, I do not ever recall giving this white patriarchal society My blessing to call me whatever the **** it decides to call me. We are here to take manners into our own hands, here to do whatever the heck our heart desires. We are here to create the change that we wish to see in the world. We are here to become the few & growing positive statistics that we fight for. We are here to create voice and shed the light on those wins that we take to our hearts. No one is here here to reflect the stereotype that this ****** up society Tries to slap us with on an everyday basis. We are here to change perception of who we are and where we stand in society. We are positive statistics...not a stereotype.
0
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 3:10 AM UTC
A Positive Statistic...Not A Stereotype
What does it mean to be a Chicano/Latino in the US? What does it mean to be Black in the US? What does it mean to be a minority in the States? You know what that means...it means that we have a lot to prove   As in the words of Booker T. Washington: "When a white boy undertakes a task, it is taken for granted that he will succeed. On the other hand, people are usually surprised If the ***** boy does not fail. In a word, the ***** youth starts out with the presumption against him." Now in a society where institutionalized racism, Or racism without racists, prevails We are disenfranchised from even being considered youth. We are a bunch of wetbacks, idiots, moron...you name it, Where failure is expected of us... ...but enough is enough, we should not abide to the stereotypes And stigmas that society stamps on our foreheads. As a matter of fact, I do not ever recall giving this white patriarchal society My blessing to call me whatever the **** it decides to call me. We are here to take manners into our own hands, here to do whatever the heck our heart desires. We are here to create the change that we wish to see in the world. We are here to become the few & growing positive statistics that we fight for. We are here to create voice and shed the light on those wins that we take to our hearts. No one is here here to reflect the stereotype that this ****** up society Tries to slap us with on an everyday basis. We are here to change perception of who we are and where we stand in society. We are positive statistics...not a stereotype.
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27
Woke up late Day's shot to hell But, hey it's Friday So, I guess it's just as well Called in, booked the day off I figured what the hell Had a coffee and ten cigarettes But, it's Friday...can't you tell It never fails to come around The Friday morning curse There's nothing you can say or do That will fix or make it worse By six a.m the day is shot And it hasn't started yet Breakfast is a coffee...cold And at least ten cigarettes Figured since I'm staying home I'll watch some tv shows Cable bill got missed this month I guess that's how it goes It's Friday so, I'm going To head down to the bar But, I find out in my driveway That someone stole my car It never fails to come around The Friday morning curse There's nothing you can say or do That will fix or make it worse By six a.m the day is shot And it hasn't started yet Breakfast is a coffee...cold And at least ten cigarettes I think I'll call a taxi That'll get me to the bar Then I think You ***** You left your wallet in the car The day is going nowhere And it seems, I am too But, hey At least it's Friday And to me...it's nothing new It never fails to come around The Friday morning curse There's nothing you can say or do That will fix or make it worse By six a.m the day is shot And it hasn't started yet Breakfast is a coffee...cold And at least ten cigarettes No wife No car, a day off too No tv shows to see There's nothing more can happen That can make this worse for me Breakfast, it's cold coffee and at least ten cigarettes But, hell It's frickin' Friday And the day ain't started yet... It never fails to come around The Friday morning curse There's nothing you can say or do That will fix or make it worse By six a.m the day is shot And it hasn't started yet Breakfast is a coffee...cold And at least ten cigarettes
0
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
Ten Cigarettes
Woke up late Day's shot to hell But, hey it's Friday So, I guess it's just as well Called in, booked the day off I figured what the hell Had a coffee and ten cigarettes But, it's Friday...can't you tell It never fails to come around The Friday morning curse There's nothing you can say or do That will fix or make it worse By six a.m the day is shot And it hasn't started yet Breakfast is a coffee...cold And at least ten cigarettes Figured since I'm staying home I'll watch some tv shows Cable bill got missed this month I guess that's how it goes It's Friday so, I'm going To head down to the bar But, I find out in my driveway That someone stole my car It never fails to come around The Friday morning curse There's nothing you can say or do That will fix or make it worse By six a.m the day is shot And it hasn't started yet Breakfast is a coffee...cold And at least ten cigarettes I think I'll call a taxi That'll get me to the bar Then I think You ***** You left your wallet in the car The day is going nowhere And it seems, I am too But, hey At least it's Friday And to me...it's nothing new It never fails to come around The Friday morning curse There's nothing you can say or do That will fix or make it worse By six a.m the day is shot And it hasn't started yet Breakfast is a coffee...cold And at least ten cigarettes No wife No car, a day off too No tv shows to see There's nothing more can happen That can make this worse for me Breakfast, it's cold coffee and at least ten cigarettes But, hell It's frickin' Friday And the day ain't started yet... It never fails to come around The Friday morning curse There's nothing you can say or do That will fix or make it worse By six a.m the day is shot And it hasn't started yet Breakfast is a coffee...cold And at least ten cigarettes
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75
If ever I thought I was worthless useless an empty vessel to hold the blame of the world, I was ignorant. In the shadow of others I did not realize I was outgrowing the limited social garden bed of my ‘friends’ and companions. Friends would be an overstatement and a title many of them have never and will never earn. As a Scorpio my trust is not easily gained, and one lost, it is gone forever. Something in me, though, always forgave, but kept the trespasses against my trust cataloged, loaded, waiting to fire across my synapses is self destruction. If ever I took your interest as a sign of friendship, I was a fool. If ever I opened my heart to you, if ever I extended an almost maternal hand to you I was an idiot. My body has been run ragged with its attempts at pleasing all and apologizing for its darker nature. My narcissism has become a survival mechanism that I once thought needed you. My soul is weary of your needy hands, your open-bird mouth that I keep feeding more and more of my soul. Compassion has an end with me. In this game of survival, I will always be the fittest and you’ve stopped entertaining the animal within me. I am worth so much more than being drained of my entirety. I am manifest energy as you are, as the earth is. Like the Earth my resources have been tapped and I can give no longer. Like the Earth I shall strike with ground shattering vengeance. If ever I thought friendship was giving you everything for nothing in return, I was blind, for I am a Goddess as you are. I am a Goddess as you are a God, and your meager offerings of passing interest and constant need are insufficient. My inner patriarch has fed of your male-centric patterns of thought, and the women of my past lives are too loud in protest for this to continue. I deserve much more than “friends” like you. & most of all If ever I thought my thighs were a sufficient reason for me to hate myself, if ever I thought they were an excuse for you to disrespect me, then I was a ***** Because you are an *** hole. And my body is rad
0
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 4:59 PM UTC
if ever i
If ever I thought I was worthless useless an empty vessel to hold the blame of the world, I was ignorant. In the shadow of others I did not realize I was outgrowing the limited social garden bed of my ‘friends’ and companions. Friends would be an overstatement and a title many of them have never and will never earn. As a Scorpio my trust is not easily gained, and one lost, it is gone forever. Something in me, though, always forgave, but kept the trespasses against my trust cataloged, loaded, waiting to fire across my synapses is self destruction. If ever I took your interest as a sign of friendship, I was a fool. If ever I opened my heart to you, if ever I extended an almost maternal hand to you I was an idiot. My body has been run ragged with its attempts at pleasing all and apologizing for its darker nature. My narcissism has become a survival mechanism that I once thought needed you. My soul is weary of your needy hands, your open-bird mouth that I keep feeding more and more of my soul. Compassion has an end with me. In this game of survival, I will always be the fittest and you’ve stopped entertaining the animal within me. I am worth so much more than being drained of my entirety. I am manifest energy as you are, as the earth is. Like the Earth my resources have been tapped and I can give no longer. Like the Earth I shall strike with ground shattering vengeance. If ever I thought friendship was giving you everything for nothing in return, I was blind, for I am a Goddess as you are. I am a Goddess as you are a God, and your meager offerings of passing interest and constant need are insufficient. My inner patriarch has fed of your male-centric patterns of thought, and the women of my past lives are too loud in protest for this to continue. I deserve much more than “friends” like you. & most of all If ever I thought my thighs were a sufficient reason for me to hate myself, if ever I thought they were an excuse for you to disrespect me, then I was a ***** Because you are an *** hole. And my body is rad
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16
People, they just ain't all golden, not at all. Not even silver, magnesium or copper. Maybe zinc, because it tastes like ink and it does your body good, but you never get enough, even though you know you should. But had I the means, and the ends were understood, would I be zinc? Would I carry the common good? Would I feign precious metal? Or am I nothing but wood? I met today aluminum, he said, "I'm bad luck." "I know it," I said, "You're out of your element." "My melting point is 660.2°C!" I told him my name was Kristian Huselius, but that turned into a testament. "You're just lucky you aren't a duck," he said. "Maybe, but I find I've got too much will." "You can't spread will on bread, my friend," he said, much to my Brazil, "but lucky for you they make contraceptives in pills." I didn't want children anyway, but when Boron arrived, I was feeling less than sublime. Boron said, "My name rhymes with 'moron'!" "No kidding, Boron," I replied. "I can come in both the dark crystal and brown powder variety!" "That may or may not be true," said Aluminum, "but at least I benefit society." Oh, yeah, he said it, he went there. "I value correctness and propriety!" Boron shrieked. "And you can be flimsy, squishy, and weak!" I wanted no part in this, so I meandered. Not too long after, I met Helium. I told him my name was Carlton Deandre. "I don't believe you, mealworm," he bombasted. "You're gaseous," I said, "I wouldn't put it past ya."
0
Apr 5, 2010
Apr 5, 2010 at 8:14 PM UTC
The Common Element
These 4 years drove your memories away, but i never knew you'll make me write someday. "Love at first sight" exists,i knew then, I reminisce,12th April at dehradun railway station. I hopped down the train, whining children,seperating lovers loving families,pleading beggars i saw, Searching for coolie,my eyes glued on a boy,leaning on a pole, An absolute treat to eyes casted a spell on heart of metal. shapely body,white skinned, curly hair,lips like petal. Yellow t-shirt on the skin of gold, dimple-dipped chuckles,widened his charm fourfold. unsure,if it's just my eyes or it was him who resembled the Greek Gods. Talking over the phone,he burst into laughter His playful,lively voice husky deep baritone, bringing my dead senses alive. Mindlessly,I pictured us,together laughing profusely on a riverside. He raised his hands for adjusting his hair. I felt his fingers brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear. The morbid roar of trains , turned into the symphony of my heart. abruptly, breaking my spell called a girl from behind, long haired,beautiful,leapt at him, no sooner he grabbed her tight in his embrace. Mad Lovers,my heart soliloquised. and here came all my wishful thinking to an end. I turned and walked away a little heartbroken before i could win him,he was taken . You gave me nothing but trust me for those minutes i wanted to be your everything I scrumpulously stole those seconds from your life which still make me skip a beat. I'll think about you again after a  few days, for now,enough of nostalgia. and which ***** said, Love at first sight saves time?
0
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 5:09 AM UTC
That somebody.
These 4 years drove your memories away, but i never knew you'll make me write someday. "Love at first sight" exists,i knew then, I reminisce,12th April at dehradun railway station. I hopped down the train, whining children,seperating lovers loving families,pleading beggars i saw, Searching for coolie,my eyes glued on a boy,leaning on a pole, An absolute treat to eyes casted a spell on heart of metal. shapely body,white skinned, curly hair,lips like petal. Yellow t-shirt on the skin of gold, dimple-dipped chuckles,widened his charm fourfold. unsure,if it's just my eyes or it was him who resembled the Greek Gods. Talking over the phone,he burst into laughter His playful,lively voice husky deep baritone, bringing my dead senses alive. Mindlessly,I pictured us,together laughing profusely on a riverside. He raised his hands for adjusting his hair. I felt his fingers brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear. The morbid roar of trains , turned into the symphony of my heart. abruptly, breaking my spell called a girl from behind, long haired,beautiful,leapt at him, no sooner he grabbed her tight in his embrace. Mad Lovers,my heart soliloquised. and here came all my wishful thinking to an end. I turned and walked away a little heartbroken before i could win him,he was taken . You gave me nothing but trust me for those minutes i wanted to be your everything I scrumpulously stole those seconds from your life which still make me skip a beat. I'll think about you again after a  few days, for now,enough of nostalgia. and which ***** said, Love at first sight saves time?
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44
The jester dances For his king host, The king host asks the jester, What makes you different from most? The jester replies In an interesting manner, He bows forward And taps his head with a hammer, The king host laughs then tells the jester to go on, The king host then whispers to his queen, Is this jester a ***** The jester begins to dance As he says aloud, I am no more ***** Than wind is cloud The king host keeps silent With a puzzled look on his face, As the jester dances and hops All over the place, The jester begins to speak again, Oh people what you be? You are what you are And all that I see, For look at our king host, As I have perplexed his mind, With simple words that I spoke Not rude but kind, Oh look a bee! Look what I see! So close to me! So happily free! Oh king host be as this bee, Do not be thrown by a simple thing as me, Oh king host be kind and wise, For every man comes and dies, Oh king host finish your war, Win it with honor but fight no more, Oh king host know your lands, There is much to be offered from many hands, As for me the jester, I travel to the next king, And I travel with a smile As I dance and sing,
0
Sep 15, 2010
Sep 15, 2010 at 12:26 AM UTC
The Jester
Never fall in love with a poet. They will break you apart like stanzas. You are a metaphor, a simile, an oxy- ***** Never fall in love with a poet. They will tear you apart like a rough draft, burn you, and then call it art. © A. Leigh
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Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 8:19 PM UTC
Never Fall In Love With A Poet
Nationality shipping ****** Strategy damage fragments ***** puke ***** fraction Biological ***** disobedience Fannie pictorial laundries ****** manhood caliphate Woodworks Biebers frites ****** vandal’s fakes Utmost openly grim ******* ************ Piled dish cell Discuss **** ****** Jihad imbeciles reincarnation Fear fears America Watching emptiness falling Dinner screaming nonsense Deadly velvet laughs Banality quack leprosy Games flood biting Tv nation ****** Swallowed road poets Animal replied stories Creature’s terminal idea Explodes gloom stare Selling young crack Game scratch ******* Confuse spill scream Genitals China responsibility
0
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
*** Crime.
I open up to you My Deepest and Darkest thoughts Gloom was my mind in the thick mist of depression Awaken was the beast of endless tears The sorrow of always living in fear Having an open heart Subsumes the probability of a broken Soul Pieces shatter of ice so thin So cold it makes the flesh As it travels within the cracks of the pulsating muscle So red and pure Lively and pulsing Transiting life in the form of little oval hopes Peaceful as they move in motion Rhythm as they move with stride Knowing they are keeping the body alive The cold turns blue Blue is the gloom Blue is my favorite color The blue of cold Souls freezing what is giving me life The blue freezes Motionless is my body Silent is my heart Can you hear it? No longer is it alive Yet I am still breathing Barely My eyes fixated at a wall that has been torn Trust has won the war to break these walls And now deception reigns through my veins Black as death as it poisons my skin Revealing to the outer world a broken-hearted fool You fool You complete ***** I look for comfort only to realize I am alone Alone in a world where so much care about you? How is that possible? When the one you care about the most Is not there Does not hear you calling Does not feel your pain Loneliness resides And darkness rises And my life Is now an everlasting crisis
0
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC
A Frozen Heart
*with all these advances in neuroscience it’s time you numbskulls learn a little about your brains* 1 First up, you must know your brain’s made of the right hemisphere and the left hemisphere - and what do they say to each other when they can’t agree with each other? “Let’s split.” 2 You know the neurons (no, not morons – neurons, you ***** – now, why do they love emails? Cos they love sending and receiving lots of messages, these neurons do 3 Now, you 100bn-deficit no-brainers - do you know what your brain does when it sees a friend across the street? Yes, it sends a brainwave… And when does your brain get afraid? Yep, when it loses its nerve… And be alert - never give your brain a bath cos you don’t want to be brainwashed, do ya? 4 You get fired, baby, you don’t work any more; but your neurons - they get working when fired 5 And for more advances in neuroscience you might want to consult your nearest neurosturgeon… with all these advances in neuroscience it’s time you numbskulls learn a little about your brains - while I get back to slicing these donors' brains fine; or making them into soup - just part of the trade, you know, of neuroscience
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Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 5:49 AM UTC
know your brain
I could write love poems for days Yet not once have I been in love (With someone else that is) I could write a book of sonnets With no one to recite them to (Except to myself of course) I can preach about the danger in our love And the joys in our heartache Because I am a Narcissist who hates myself I am an utmost contradiction An antithesis, an oxymoron (or maybe just a ***** full stop) Either way I have loved myself The way the moon loved the sun And yet I've destroyed myself The way Mt Visuvius destroyed pompeii Relentless, and still gentle, A beautifully tragic mess. Self love turns to self hate With the flip of a switch of my bedroom lights Light turns to dark And I turn into my own worst nightmare Becoming my own demons And when morning comes And I'm so bloodied and bruised, Ill nurse my broken body tenderly Reviving my former self I'll look in the mirror and see The only friend, the only lover, the only person That has ever stayed And i'll remember why I love who I am And how I am strong, Stronger than my demons, Than my own thoughts , And stronger than myself.
0
Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 6:52 AM UTC
A love poem to myself
I'm dreaming of a WHITE Christmas Not like the ones we used to know Where the hoods and robes are making things all ***** Those kooks dressed up white as snow I'm dreaming of a WHITE Christmas His uni underneath the tree With his new Doc Martins That he'll look smart in To show his mentality I'm dreaming of a WHITE Christmas I'm glad it only is one night With his new plaid shirt on This racist ***** Hia tree...has no coloured lights I'm dreaming of a WHITE Christmas What would he do if he just knew The KKK man Had better re-plan His Christ....he was born a jew I wish everyone a Merry Christmas, black or white, green or grey, red, brown and yellow. Have a wonderful Christmas Season, because it is Christmas after all.....and remember, this is just a poem, just fiction. I want a White Christmas, but, one with every colour of the rainbow treated equally, and hopefully some nice prezzies and a song or two by Andy Williams and Bing Crosby. MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE
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Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 11:12 AM UTC
I'm dreaming of a WHITE Christmas
Electrons, making me feel like a ***** Where the heck did ADP come from? I don't even want to wonder why there suddenly is a phosphate group. How come G3P wasn't a nickname when I was a sophomore? Glycolysis was not a crisis, And I understood Miss Minnie's drawings. Now I have a book with 3D figures, But cellular respiration was not who it was four years ago, And I swear I've encountered all of them before, But where did they all go? I know their names but not who they are. Honestly, I'd rather think fermentation occurs in a bar.
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Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
Biology; Gee, Pardon Me
feeling sorry for myself again, surprise surprise, I think a lot they say don't it's bad for you, surprise surprise, I wonder still feeling sorry for myself again, like some crack-addled ***** frustration at every turn, as I see the corridors of my mind; a dead end every time, and maybe the migraines are a true sign of recent times pain for days, a complete sense of contempt seeing myself so low, I must mount my eyes high up in the trees, stitched into leaves to look down on everything so feeling sorry for myself again, surprise surprise, I think a lot they said don't it's bad for me, surprise surprise, I wonder still feeling sorry for myself again, like some lonesome lowlife I understand the kettle's whistle, tormented and brought to boiling point, tortured by the very talents that give it purpose am I a kettle or a joke to you? pain for days, a complete sense of contempt seeing myself so low, I must mount my eyes high up in the trees, stitched into leaves to look down on everything so
0
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 10:04 AM UTC
Self Commiseration
Simplify your poetry. Make it fit for a pop song. Simplify your poetry, make it fit for me, your little *****
0
Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 1:50 PM UTC
Simplify Your Poetry
You call me your dog, your ***** your fool, hurling words like stones to shatter my heart. I wag my tail anyway, smiling through trembling lips, fetching scraps of kindness from the shadow of your hands. You call me useless, a beast beyond learning, but I only want to please you— to sit, to stay, to love. Even as you turn away, your voice cracking the whip, I crawl through every wound, bearing the weight of your name like a leash around my soul. For to be your dog is still to be near you, and I, the fool, would bleed to feel you call me mine.
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Jan 16, 2025
Jan 16, 2025 at 11:18 AM UTC
Mr./Mrs. Labrador
Stinky and Hinky Both egregious pigs Set out to **** us all; They don't care a fig If all of us starve to death As long as they get rich. Stinky and Hinky Each a venal summabitch! Stinky hired Hinky Two minds, one sewer. Stinky had no talent But Hinky was newer. Many people doubted That either had a chance But over half the voters Chose to skip the dance. So we got two reprobates With no regard for us. So, without much fanfare And no legitimate fuss The country got overrun Crooks got left in office. Now they all are setting out To, once and for all, off us. Stinky is a ***** And Hinky is a bigot. They crap on the Constitution. And expect us all to dig it. Stinky uses the USA As his personal ATM. Hinky is just evil. We’ve had enough of him.
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Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 5:22 PM UTC
STINKY AND HINKY
I am sore muscles, burned food, lit windows of houses I’ve seen while standing out in the cold, dead leaves underfoot, dreams of shoulder blades pushed against plaster and a lump in my throat, catching someone check their reflection when they think no one’s looking, running after an ice cream truck, airplanes crossing the sun, laughter shooting from the chest, vehicles racing along pavement, the tenderness of the air this morning, shadows stretching across snow, my gut fluttering when we’re alone together, poems I write in which nothing is true, the migration of birds, lights dimmed and all the music turned up, constellations of stars I will never know the names of, my thoughts chattering to no one, driving on ice with a pounding heart, dragonflies and thunderstorms with one ear-bud in, a head on a shoulder, hugs tight enough to hurt, swerving to avoid strangers in the street, poetry read on full eyes and an empty stomach, waking in the middle of the night to move through the house while everything’s soft and quiet, leaning into things with base violent passion, strawberries picked in August, things I want but will never have, that great numbing beauty, laying back on an unmade bed, laughing and sobbing like a *****  hurling rocks into the navy monotony of the ocean, electric jealousy, inhaling dust of old books, euphoric indie riffs, photographs pinned to walls, jogging to catch up with a new friend, spilled milk, a cool pillow at the end of every day, shifting seasons, happiness louder than bombs, lungs full of breath, affluxes of glitter in my eyes, a roar building in the space around me, love and love and love
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Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 6:54 PM UTC
Anatomy
I am sore muscles, burned food, lit windows of houses I’ve seen while standing out in the cold, dead leaves underfoot, dreams of shoulder blades pushed against plaster and a lump in my throat, catching someone check their reflection when they think no one’s looking, running after an ice cream truck, airplanes crossing the sun, laughter shooting from the chest, vehicles racing along pavement, the tenderness of the air this morning, shadows stretching across snow, my gut fluttering when we’re alone together, poems I write in which nothing is true, the migration of birds, lights dimmed and all the music turned up, constellations of stars I will never know the names of, my thoughts chattering to no one, driving on ice with a pounding heart, dragonflies and thunderstorms with one ear-bud in, a head on a shoulder, hugs tight enough to hurt, swerving to avoid strangers in the street, poetry read on full eyes and an empty stomach, waking in the middle of the night to move through the house while everything’s soft and quiet, leaning into things with base violent passion, strawberries picked in August, things I want but will never have, that great numbing beauty, laying back on an unmade bed, laughing and sobbing like a *****  hurling rocks into the navy monotony of the ocean, electric jealousy, inhaling dust of old books, euphoric indie riffs, photographs pinned to walls, jogging to catch up with a new friend, spilled milk, a cool pillow at the end of every day, shifting seasons, happiness louder than bombs, lungs full of breath, affluxes of glitter in my eyes, a roar building in the space around me, love and love and love
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