"moshpit" poems - Hello Poetry

"Notice me Senpai" Something that started as a joke But now it's just fact But if you try to tell me that You were just kidding I will take my bidding I'm the winner of the prize Oh yes I am Wisemen of the wise You were always my favorite I was always celibate You said I was full of it Maybe in the moshpit Say my name No not that one Say the one you say to me When you're lonely Say the one that will tame The one that my heart won

0

Dec 17, 2014

Dec 17, 2014 at 3:23 PM UTC

evan-hayes27

A Text

"Notice me Senpai" Something that started as a joke But now it's just fact But if you try to tell me that You were just kidding I will take my bidding I'm the winner of the prize Oh yes I am Wisemen of the wise You were always my favorite I was always celibate You said I was full of it Maybe in the moshpit Say my name No not that one Say the one you say to me When you're lonely Say the one that will tame The one that my heart won

19

Rokkstarr There's no more love for the music, I've sang since birth about this world. Sang those love songs in my youth, Now your love songs make me hurl. **** Rock 'n' Roll and the bands you think are great! **** the police and **** you all! **** all those people that you hate! **** Radio 1 and **** the world! Rock 'n' Roll is dead and gone, Once Rokkstarr meant something great. Once we sang these songs with passion, Once we sang these songs with hate! Now we stand here on stage like wankers! So let's all sell out to the man. He gives us money for writing **** songs; Now moneys all we understand. Sell out tours and groupie whores. Life is great? No life’s a bore. Been here before and it was just the same. Same old thing again and again. Know what to expect, no more surprise’s; No more excitement, no meaningful trophies. It all means nothing, now we've been here so long; The **** record label wants another song. Which must be written, within the month; We have a release date, so we can sell this stuff, Before Christmas to the kids, because they’re our target audience; The music that they want, they can get from their parents. Because their parents know, that they just can't say "No.", To a kid that wants something, as much as they will. Rock 'n' Roll is dead and gone, Once Rokkstarr meant something great. Once we sang these songs with passion, Once we sang these songs with hate! Now we stand here on stage like wankers! So let's all sell out to the man. He gives us money for writing **** songs; Now moneys all we understand. To be a Rokkstarr, you'd think would be great. But the songs you once loved, you begin to hate. You sing them so much, it becomes a habit; Until one day you say "That's it! I've had it!" I'm tired of singing these songs; The words have lost all their meaning. I need something new, something I can believe in. I need music to fall in love with, I need lyrics with a real meaning; But my hope for all that's Rock, is a memory that's slowly fading. Soon Rock will die and be gone; Because new Rock bands come and go. Soon there will no longer be any hype; About a band you heard on the radio. Rock 'n' Roll is dead and gone, Once Rokkstarr meant something great. Once we sang these songs with passion, Once we sang these songs with hate! Now we stand here on stage like wankers! So let's all sell out to the man. He gives us money for writing **** songs; Now moneys all we understand. You never know though I could be wrong. Maybe soon I'll hear a song; That will move me like 'Bohemian Rhapsody' did. That will make me appreciate new music. Here's hoping for the future, For Rock to come back with a vengeance. Remember your roots in a jam-packed moshpit? Remember the mindless violence? Remember when you saw your girl through the crowd And fell in love with her there and then? That’s love for Rock music at its finest And believe me it will come again. Rock 'n' Roll's not dead and gone; Now Rokkstarr means something great! Now we sing these songs with passion; Now sing these songs with hate! Now we stand here on the stage; After finding our love for Rock! So let's all softly bang our heads and GET THE **** UP! (C)2005 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

0

Sep 20, 2018

Sep 20, 2018 at 9:58 AM UTC

aa-harvey

Rokkstarr

Rokkstarr There's no more love for the music, I've sang since birth about this world. Sang those love songs in my youth, Now your love songs make me hurl. **** Rock 'n' Roll and the bands you think are great! **** the police and **** you all! **** all those people that you hate! **** Radio 1 and **** the world! Rock 'n' Roll is dead and gone, Once Rokkstarr meant something great. Once we sang these songs with passion, Once we sang these songs with hate! Now we stand here on stage like wankers! So let's all sell out to the man. He gives us money for writing **** songs; Now moneys all we understand. Sell out tours and groupie whores. Life is great? No life’s a bore. Been here before and it was just the same. Same old thing again and again. Know what to expect, no more surprise’s; No more excitement, no meaningful trophies. It all means nothing, now we've been here so long; The **** record label wants another song. Which must be written, within the month; We have a release date, so we can sell this stuff, Before Christmas to the kids, because they’re our target audience; The music that they want, they can get from their parents. Because their parents know, that they just can't say "No.", To a kid that wants something, as much as they will. Rock 'n' Roll is dead and gone, Once Rokkstarr meant something great. Once we sang these songs with passion, Once we sang these songs with hate! Now we stand here on stage like wankers! So let's all sell out to the man. He gives us money for writing **** songs; Now moneys all we understand. To be a Rokkstarr, you'd think would be great. But the songs you once loved, you begin to hate. You sing them so much, it becomes a habit; Until one day you say "That's it! I've had it!" I'm tired of singing these songs; The words have lost all their meaning. I need something new, something I can believe in. I need music to fall in love with, I need lyrics with a real meaning; But my hope for all that's Rock, is a memory that's slowly fading. Soon Rock will die and be gone; Because new Rock bands come and go. Soon there will no longer be any hype; About a band you heard on the radio. Rock 'n' Roll is dead and gone, Once Rokkstarr meant something great. Once we sang these songs with passion, Once we sang these songs with hate! Now we stand here on stage like wankers! So let's all sell out to the man. He gives us money for writing **** songs; Now moneys all we understand. You never know though I could be wrong. Maybe soon I'll hear a song; That will move me like 'Bohemian Rhapsody' did. That will make me appreciate new music. Here's hoping for the future, For Rock to come back with a vengeance. Remember your roots in a jam-packed moshpit? Remember the mindless violence? Remember when you saw your girl through the crowd And fell in love with her there and then? That’s love for Rock music at its finest And believe me it will come again. Rock 'n' Roll's not dead and gone; Now Rokkstarr means something great! Now we sing these songs with passion; Now sing these songs with hate! Now we stand here on the stage; After finding our love for Rock! So let's all softly bang our heads and GET THE **** UP! (C)2005 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

80

**** that was the mdma.** I felt the chemicals crawling slowly passed my throat into my system And for a moment I was the only thing in my moshpit reality Standing completely still for once Right there In the middle of Hungary I felt the prodigy spiders climb through my skin Into my brain And I could not think myself But I heard the thoughts of others "Why do we do this to ourselves?"

0

Sep 26, 2014

Sep 26, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC

sinai

Budapest

**** that was the mdma.** I felt the chemicals crawling slowly passed my throat into my system And for a moment I was the only thing in my moshpit reality Standing completely still for once Right there In the middle of Hungary I felt the prodigy spiders climb through my skin Into my brain And I could not think myself But I heard the thoughts of others "Why do we do this to ourselves?"

11

You stupid, amazing ***** Your Mad heart vilifies Deceit, Mashing Xanax and ****** Benzos for the price of flight. Yet there you stand Idyllic and idolised, The chemicals and pheromones clash and dance magnificently. The Moshpit of Deceit Is your tragic sanctuary.

0

Oct 12, 2013

Oct 12, 2013 at 7:23 AM UTC

sam-dawkins

Wherehouse

You stupid, amazing ***** Your Mad heart vilifies Deceit, Mashing Xanax and ****** Benzos for the price of flight. Yet there you stand Idyllic and idolised, The chemicals and pheromones clash and dance magnificently. The Moshpit of Deceit Is your tragic sanctuary.

10

#*(What.. the Construct is not God?) A final flare across the falsehood. A message for the Circus carnies, their "Feerless Leaders" surrounded by all of those foul-smelling little Circus-midgets who stroke their emptiness as they feed on the open wounds of women and call it poetry. The girl has walked off the stage—and now you're left to perform for ghosts within that never-ending moshpit of clown-driven bumper cars.. signaling each other with nifty little 'doublesecret', nursery-school codeword handshakes..* ***This is not her elegy. This is your eulogy.*** You never had her. You only had her wounds. You dressed them up in silk, fed them validation like wine, watched her dance in your smoke and thought that was devotion. But devotion doesn't need an audience. And healing doesn't ask your permission. She’s walking now— through the neon bones of your kingdom, past the velvet ropes and half-dead prophets, past the pit bosses and poets with nothing left to say. She is not yours anymore. Not her mind. Not her mouth. Not her mercy. The girl is leaving Las Vegas. And all you have left is your mirrors and your rot. You built your house on applause and gaslight, and panting beneath the throne. You offered her fame in fragments— tried to turn her trauma into theater. But she has remembered her name. And it is not Object. It is not Muse. It is not ***** She is not your story. She is not your audience. She is not your ******* redemption arc. She owes you nothing. Not a final poem, not a farewell kiss, not a second read-through of your mask. The curtain is down. The light is off. The only thing echoing in this theater is the sound of your own need. You tried to brand her with brokenness. You tried to cage her in shame and call it belonging. But she has slipped through your stagehands like smoke returning to the mountain. And now, you will eat yourselves. You will tear your velvet gods limb from limb, looking for the magic you could never hold. Because it was never yours. It was hers. And she is gone. Gone, like a daughter returning home, with the fire still burning in her chest and no need to ask permission. Let her fly. Let the city crumble. The girl is leaving Las Vegas. And none of you pathetic ************* will follow her out. #

0

May 4, 2025

May 4, 2025 at 10:26 AM UTC

f-elliott

Leaving Las Vegas.

#*(What.. the Construct is not God?) A final flare across the falsehood. A message for the Circus carnies, their "Feerless Leaders" surrounded by all of those foul-smelling little Circus-midgets who stroke their emptiness as they feed on the open wounds of women and call it poetry. The girl has walked off the stage—and now you're left to perform for ghosts within that never-ending moshpit of clown-driven bumper cars.. signaling each other with nifty little 'doublesecret', nursery-school codeword handshakes..* ***This is not her elegy. This is your eulogy.*** You never had her. You only had her wounds. You dressed them up in silk, fed them validation like wine, watched her dance in your smoke and thought that was devotion. But devotion doesn't need an audience. And healing doesn't ask your permission. She’s walking now— through the neon bones of your kingdom, past the velvet ropes and half-dead prophets, past the pit bosses and poets with nothing left to say. She is not yours anymore. Not her mind. Not her mouth. Not her mercy. The girl is leaving Las Vegas. And all you have left is your mirrors and your rot. You built your house on applause and gaslight, and panting beneath the throne. You offered her fame in fragments— tried to turn her trauma into theater. But she has remembered her name. And it is not Object. It is not Muse. It is not ***** She is not your story. She is not your audience. She is not your ******* redemption arc. She owes you nothing. Not a final poem, not a farewell kiss, not a second read-through of your mask. The curtain is down. The light is off. The only thing echoing in this theater is the sound of your own need. You tried to brand her with brokenness. You tried to cage her in shame and call it belonging. But she has slipped through your stagehands like smoke returning to the mountain. And now, you will eat yourselves. You will tear your velvet gods limb from limb, looking for the magic you could never hold. Because it was never yours. It was hers. And she is gone. Gone, like a daughter returning home, with the fire still burning in her chest and no need to ask permission. Let her fly. Let the city crumble. The girl is leaving Las Vegas. And none of you pathetic ************* will follow her out. #

54

Young, Wild and Free There is no game and there is no compass How I despise, another fall Another diminishing glimmer in my eyes. Brown cascading with Blue Lips on lips, Hips and Sips I could like you but I don't know how. For monogamy is a practice unknown to me A language miles away, from where interconnectedness flies away It's greatest fear is it's mastery, for a life lackluster at it's very seams. Monogamy, a prized practice Forever at its lips bidding adieu, I would like you but I don't know how. How do I dignify a surmise, You're beyond deserving of more. I like to smoke and I'm not sorry, I like drinking until I can dance and I cannot forgive I find my comfort in a glass of whiskey, I find my charm breeds with corona. You deserve more than a mickey, You are my delicacy beyond this honey brown purity. You should be dignified, You should be invited to the ball and not the moshpit. A million words and a million girls So I cower in fear Simmer in the millions of men For every woman you see, there are a million men for me. I cascade in this, I comfort in the crowd. I find comfort in daydreams, ripping seams, lips Distance is my mechanism, Hope is abundance I want nothing but your gaze, But to save my soul with a simple graze, I seek comfort in the crowd. I'm lazy, I've grown lazy with indecision, A indecision that has bred on fear, A crippling, cold, vindictive tar suffocating all reason. Horror lulled me into laze, and now I await I await a love that consumes me But how may a love come to me when I stay begging Begging by a bottle, holding comfort in the crowd. I seek comfort in the crowd, but the crowd does not fulfil me. The crowd is a youth, it is not a lifetime. I seek comfort in the crowd, but the crowd cannot seek comfort in me.

0

Dec 10, 2014

Dec 10, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC

unkempthairmessysoul

Seeking Comfort in the Crowd.

Young, Wild and Free There is no game and there is no compass How I despise, another fall Another diminishing glimmer in my eyes. Brown cascading with Blue Lips on lips, Hips and Sips I could like you but I don't know how. For monogamy is a practice unknown to me A language miles away, from where interconnectedness flies away It's greatest fear is it's mastery, for a life lackluster at it's very seams. Monogamy, a prized practice Forever at its lips bidding adieu, I would like you but I don't know how. How do I dignify a surmise, You're beyond deserving of more. I like to smoke and I'm not sorry, I like drinking until I can dance and I cannot forgive I find my comfort in a glass of whiskey, I find my charm breeds with corona. You deserve more than a mickey, You are my delicacy beyond this honey brown purity. You should be dignified, You should be invited to the ball and not the moshpit. A million words and a million girls So I cower in fear Simmer in the millions of men For every woman you see, there are a million men for me. I cascade in this, I comfort in the crowd. I find comfort in daydreams, ripping seams, lips Distance is my mechanism, Hope is abundance I want nothing but your gaze, But to save my soul with a simple graze, I seek comfort in the crowd. I'm lazy, I've grown lazy with indecision, A indecision that has bred on fear, A crippling, cold, vindictive tar suffocating all reason. Horror lulled me into laze, and now I await I await a love that consumes me But how may a love come to me when I stay begging Begging by a bottle, holding comfort in the crowd. I seek comfort in the crowd, but the crowd does not fulfil me. The crowd is a youth, it is not a lifetime. I seek comfort in the crowd, but the crowd cannot seek comfort in me.

46

It’s been a week - things have been happening - I’m going through it. I’ve become nostalgic for two weeks ago. I got screamed at, I lost my AirPods case and I cracked my iPhone screen, so I’m several levels worse - I’m a sad human. I’m writing this at the Apple Store while a friendly Apple person renders me whole. The Ukraine situation has everyone unnerved. Draw a card - Pandemic or WWIII? Please, protect my peace. So there’s a level of “screw-it” now. Friday night, I’m in a bad mood and when someone says “Come-on let's go clubbing!” I’m - “Let’s GET THIS.” Later, we’re at a club, and it’s INSANELY crowded, like a moshpit. It was ABBA night. It did not escape me that this is exactly the type of milieu I’ve been avoiding for years. Did I mention the WWIII level of “screw-it”? Ok, moshpit, you could hardly move, you definitely couldn’t hear, and Anna dropped her phone - we were sure that it was gone forever but 30 minutes later a hole opens up and there it is - like it’s just been sitting there waiting - so, there ARE miracles. The list of life’s demands grow by the moment - reading, homework, laundry, dinner, upcoming midterms. I had a rock solid plan for a Saturday night of fun but assignments and necessities destroyed its integrity. After a heroic effort and completing everything, I felt a fast-metastasizing boredom, so I wandered outside my room, hoping for company and distraction - it was 00:30 AM - and for for once - no one else was there! Where was everyone? Hello zombie apocalypse. So I did what anyone would do in that beat - I cued-up ”Miraculous,” because Ladybug’s always there for me.

0

Mar 6, 2022

Mar 6, 2022 at 6:53 AM UTC

anaisvionet

Currents

It’s been a week - things have been happening - I’m going through it. I’ve become nostalgic for two weeks ago. I got screamed at, I lost my AirPods case and I cracked my iPhone screen, so I’m several levels worse - I’m a sad human. I’m writing this at the Apple Store while a friendly Apple person renders me whole. The Ukraine situation has everyone unnerved. Draw a card - Pandemic or WWIII? Please, protect my peace. So there’s a level of “screw-it” now. Friday night, I’m in a bad mood and when someone says “Come-on let's go clubbing!” I’m - “Let’s GET THIS.” Later, we’re at a club, and it’s INSANELY crowded, like a moshpit. It was ABBA night. It did not escape me that this is exactly the type of milieu I’ve been avoiding for years. Did I mention the WWIII level of “screw-it”? Ok, moshpit, you could hardly move, you definitely couldn’t hear, and Anna dropped her phone - we were sure that it was gone forever but 30 minutes later a hole opens up and there it is - like it’s just been sitting there waiting - so, there ARE miracles. The list of life’s demands grow by the moment - reading, homework, laundry, dinner, upcoming midterms. I had a rock solid plan for a Saturday night of fun but assignments and necessities destroyed its integrity. After a heroic effort and completing everything, I felt a fast-metastasizing boredom, so I wandered outside my room, hoping for company and distraction - it was 00:30 AM - and for for once - no one else was there! Where was everyone? Hello zombie apocalypse. So I did what anyone would do in that beat - I cued-up ”Miraculous,” because Ladybug’s always there for me.

8

Music flowin through my veins, Just reach out and cause some pain. A punch to the face and a knee to the jaw, Heads hit heads, the weaker ones fall. Pick em up, move em out, Keep the pit going, don't quit now. I wipe the blood out from my eye, Then run back with a kamikaze cry. Crack some heads, stomp some shins, I can't wait til the music begins. I'm the first one in, the last one out, Moshing's what I'm all about. If I don't *** hurt it wasn't that good, But **** ya shoulda seen the other dude.

0

Oct 24, 2010

Oct 24, 2010 at 4:36 PM UTC

gonzo

Moshpit

Music flowin through my veins, Just reach out and cause some pain. A punch to the face and a knee to the jaw, Heads hit heads, the weaker ones fall. Pick em up, move em out, Keep the pit going, don't quit now. I wipe the blood out from my eye, Then run back with a kamikaze cry. Crack some heads, stomp some shins, I can't wait til the music begins. I'm the first one in, the last one out, Moshing's what I'm all about. If I don't *** hurt it wasn't that good, But **** ya shoulda seen the other dude.

14

Leader of the pack Packing leading rounds Rounds of Jack's giant hounds Jack is with Jake By the lake Molly's with Kurt And he's a bit more then hurt They'll get together And raid the nether Jack turned on Jake Molly at the lake Lake at the night Molly's night of light Kurt threw a fit And fell to the moshpit Jake like a feather Just invaded the nether Ricky with a knife Staking his life Jack and Molly And Kurt almighty Wanted to stay rightly Ricky came for Heather Who was in the nether Oh, they're already gone Gone to a better sun They're all together At the bottom of the nether And you thought you knew better Wet winter weather

0

Dec 10, 2014

Dec 10, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC

evan-hayes27

Untitled

Leader of the pack Packing leading rounds Rounds of Jack's giant hounds Jack is with Jake By the lake Molly's with Kurt And he's a bit more then hurt They'll get together And raid the nether Jack turned on Jake Molly at the lake Lake at the night Molly's night of light Kurt threw a fit And fell to the moshpit Jake like a feather Just invaded the nether Ricky with a knife Staking his life Jack and Molly And Kurt almighty Wanted to stay rightly Ricky came for Heather Who was in the nether Oh, they're already gone Gone to a better sun They're all together At the bottom of the nether And you thought you knew better Wet winter weather

30

Do I sink, Do I swim— In dem eyes of Lake Michigan? I got my hopes up again Tryna stay afloat While the world ends So I’ll build a raft of empty prescription bottles And ride it out in the plastic sea Let it engulf me Beach hazards statement- I’m coming alive again I’m done asking the current to pull me in I’ll leave the call of the void on read While The waves are thrashing At the sea wall So just pin me up against the lighthouse And whisper me sweet static nothingness I’m coming I’m coming I’m coming alive again Beach hazards statement- You make me wanna give a **** and mean it We woke up on Subconscious shores Wind whipping sand in our face You’re hushing all my little wars Holding tight in your embrace Staring into me like Life imitating art Defines catharsis you’re the muse in my mind’s moshpit You’re the last punk rock princess Blowing out the speakers In another castle In your old skool vans And your mc5 shirt Leopard nuanced Leather queen The madness To the meaning Let’s get hyper real In the surreal cerulean So tell me, Do I sink do I swim in those swirling galaxies of Lake Michigan? Cause I don’t even think about the end Just an abyss of Fear and desire conflicting

0

Oct 18, 2023

Oct 18, 2023 at 6:42 PM UTC

kenny

Beach Hazards Statement

Do I sink, Do I swim— In dem eyes of Lake Michigan? I got my hopes up again Tryna stay afloat While the world ends So I’ll build a raft of empty prescription bottles And ride it out in the plastic sea Let it engulf me Beach hazards statement- I’m coming alive again I’m done asking the current to pull me in I’ll leave the call of the void on read While The waves are thrashing At the sea wall So just pin me up against the lighthouse And whisper me sweet static nothingness I’m coming I’m coming I’m coming alive again Beach hazards statement- You make me wanna give a **** and mean it We woke up on Subconscious shores Wind whipping sand in our face You’re hushing all my little wars Holding tight in your embrace Staring into me like Life imitating art Defines catharsis you’re the muse in my mind’s moshpit You’re the last punk rock princess Blowing out the speakers In another castle In your old skool vans And your mc5 shirt Leopard nuanced Leather queen The madness To the meaning Let’s get hyper real In the surreal cerulean So tell me, Do I sink do I swim in those swirling galaxies of Lake Michigan? Cause I don’t even think about the end Just an abyss of Fear and desire conflicting

52