olivia grace Nov 2012
we were just small children so we didn’t quite understand what father meant when he said

“mother is sad”

we continued our games and make believe stories and waited for mother to be happy

and when we were young, sad just meant someone stepped on your picture

or they ruined your sand castle


and in 2 seconds it was over

the deeper I fall into my depression I find my mother
I find her ghouls and her ghosts
her corpses

I find her dark eyes in my dark eyes every time I look in the mirror
and I find her hatred for everything, including me

I find new ways to torture myself
my mother

“you have your mothers eyes”


we also have the same disease

the only difference is, her demons won
mine don’t stand a chance
Sagar Sachdeva May 2014
The perfect synonym of a pearl,
Yes I'm talking about a girl

A mother, sister and a wife,
She enacts every role in just a single life.
Being callous is not in her nature ,
But nimbleness is surely one of her features.

Then why, the gender based foeticide,
Set some rules and please abide,
Giving birth and throwing the girl child in a bin,
Understand morons, will never be considered masculine.

Don’t you have them in your fraternity?
If you have, and still get down to such heinous crimes, I pity.

Don’t know about men,
But girls are certainly made in heaven,
Show Love and respect for them,
As they truly ,are a gem.
See the thing with growing up with a single mother
I had to learn how to be a man by her and my older brother
But if I didn't have that strong woman
I don't know where I would be
Honestly,
She the one who pushed me to be me
The me that I wanted to be
Telling me I can do whatever
I dreamed
Yet still punishing me
A woman like that is an astonishing thing
Something you don't find often
But I got her
And I know she's a blessing
Because everybody don't have
A mother who cares
And a mother whose there
Even when I had nothing
Not even for my stomach
I had my mother
And she had more love for me
Than I could stomach
More advice than I could bother to hear
She could make any pain disappear
But she also got a side
That you never want to to hear
But she's my mom
So I always hold her near....
Alan W Jankowski Dec 2011
Grandpa sits in his favorite chair,
Spots his granddaughter and starts to stare,
Whips out his dick and starts to stroke,
He knows it’s his granddaughter he wants to poke,
Calls her over and says, “Pretty please.”
Come on granddaughter get on your knees,
She does as she’s told and sucks him with zest,
Because she knows incest is best.

Uncle Roy decides to give it a whirl,
He likes to dress his nephew up as a girl,
Likes to see him in silk and lace,
Lipstick and makeup on his face,
Imagining him with heels on his feet,
As he sits there and starts to stroke his meat,
He’d love to put him to the test,
Because he knows incest is best.

Mother decides to get in on the act,
Her and her son have a special pact,
While her husbands at work she gets in his bed,
Pulls down his pants and starts giving him head,
Son likes his mom dressed up in her lace,
As he shoots his load all over her face,
He knows his mom is better than the rest,
Because he knows incest is best.

Sister and brother are a special pair,
It’s more than a last name these two share,
Brother Bill can’t believe his luck,
Having a sister that likes to fuck,
Says, “Hey Sis, come on over here.”
As he bends her over and takes her rear,
Going at it like animals it becomes a real fuckfest,
Because they both know incest is best.

Father can’t believe his daughter is so kind,
She’s on her knees as he takes her behind,
She moans and screams and starts to cry,
Says, “Hey Daddy, you’re my kind of guy.”
Daddy tells her incest is the better way,
It’s a game the whole family can play,
Daddy treats his daughter like an honored guest,
Because they both know incest is best.

11-27-09b.
Far and away my most read poem, except perhaps my 9-11 Tribute thingy...this poem gets well over 1000 views per month on one erotic story site alone...and yes, it's done with more than a hint of humor...the line "Incest, a game the whole family can play" is something a friend of mine used to say back in high school...:)
Never noticed me
Under her pink dye
And thick thighs.
Never noticed me
In others eyes,
In others lies.

Didn’t notice me
Sinking in
And taking name.
A kiss on the neck
And I’m to blame.

Didn’t notice me
Notice her,
The other one
With darker fur.

I feel like a kid again,
The butterflies
In my stomach
And on my face
Give way to
Nails on my neck
And choke
That I can taste.

I drink to
Blue eyes
And costly affairs.
The timid blonde
That broke silence
Now laughs at me
With a stare.

“Smile,” she says.
Samm Smith Jul 2012
It’s the smell of bravery,
Of slickness, and treachery.
It’s the smell of doom,
Of attitude and gloom.
It’s all too familiar,
And a little bit chilling,
It’s the smell of her perfume,
And all too fulfilling.
It’s the smell of a con-artist,
The smell of a witch,
The smell of a criminal,
The smell of a bitch.
*I love my mom this poem doesn't describe her the title is just really raw and emotional and I liked it*
AK Bright May 2015
She looks in the mirror
At the age on her face
"I wonder what he thinks
of me this way?"

She considers her weight
and the pores on her skin
She thinks out loud
"I don't deserve him."

She picks apart
the woman he loves
Separating her worth
from all that she does
              
He looks in her eyes
and caresses her face
He sees it glowing with love
and full of grace

 The lines on her face
  he views with pride
  Recounting the victories
  each time they've been tried

The weight that she carries
 is that of a mom
 Nothing's too heavy
 She just marches on

These bodies will perish
 and mirrors offer no truth
True love abides
 beyond the corridors of youth

  No, she doesn't deserve me
  Perhaps God can see
  Conceivably, one day
  I'll be as worthy as she
to the mother of my children. Happy Mother's Day!
Poetic T Mar 2015
Jack** and Jill ran up the hill,
To perv on miss muffin
Getting her fill,
She was getting it hard boiled
From Humpy Dumpty,
Who fell of the wall,
Yolk sprayed up her back,
Her screaming she wanted more.

Mary, Mary,
Quite Contrary...
How did you make it grow,
You played with the bells,
And my cockle shells and it did grow,
Mary, Mary,
Quite Contrary
Not much words to show,
A mouth your good at what you do,
Mary my sweet little bike I like to ride so.

Old Mother Hubbard
Liked it up the back cupboard,
From the younger gents
She knows,
She liked to suck meat till the marrow
Did flow swallowed the lot in one go,
Now empty is the bone.
Who thought a lady in years,
Had all this energy on the go...
Suddenly,
buttoning their jackets and making sure
their sleeves were straight and perfect
as the train quickly approached her stop
became more important than
anything she'd done.

Only child. Straight A's. Good athlete. Church choir;

But this suddenly was the most
important moment of her
life.
rare-and-rad Sep 2014
Dear Meth,

       Fuck you and your devilish traps
thanks for making my good days go to crap
thanks for separating me from my mother,
for making me look like a fuck up to my brother
thanks for the addiction I have to face
you really did take me to another place
thanks for making me into the person I am
at least you never made me slam
thanks for making me stay up for a week or two
you showed me that I got nothing to lose
thanks for putting shadows in front of my eyes
but if it wasn’t for that I wouldn’t have realized my lies
I now put a gat in the side of my lap
cause I can’t even sleep or even take a nap
I’m always moving around , where ever it is you take me
bringing me to my dealers house making me beg on my knees
even if it’s just leftover’s, crumpled up in aluminum foil
Now I pick my arms because I think it begins to boil
I’m known as the black sheep in my family
you made my life a fucked up tragedy
The scars you caused aren’t only visible but mental
Thank god I stopped before I melted my dentals
There’s still a voice in my head telling me not to leave you
but I want to start my actual life, I want to be someone new
I thank you for the shit caused, for the mistakes you made me do
But I’m leaving you now, one last thing, fuck you.
lost girl Jun 2014
I've been having a hard time lately
I'm sorry about that baby.
I close my eyes
And thoughts of what would have been flows by.
I squeeze my eyes to keep from crying.
I've been doing that a lot lately.
I just haven't been the same since I lost the baby.


(a.d)
Not about me.
Pure LOVE May 2013
Mother nature
Strikes the earth
With tornado's
Flood's and Wicked
Storms
It's not because of
Anger or sins
It's what keeps
Our plant in its
Natural spin
The Ecosystem
Has to run
Its course just like
We run ours to live
I am amazed at
The science of
Our world
It takes every event
To keep in tune
If one thing
Changes it
It could
All be ruined
We need the storms and the forest fires so the ecosystem continues to run without it we will soon be done. Go green. Keep our planet from mankind demise. Love one another save our lives
What happens when the good girl goes bad
like the spoiled milk she left out?
Because I couldn't seem to get up.
I think it was something about acknowledging that I'm alive, I'm here.
Wouldn't it all be easier if I wasn't?

When the good girl goes bad
because she worked her ass off on that paper and only got a C.

When the good girl goes bad
because the world doesn't treat her right,
but I guess it must because that's
how come I'm the good girl.
Not my depressed sister sitting in her room;
not my other sister running around, destroying everything I had to work for;
most definitely
not my other sister who always seemed to be your favorite but is now smashing plates in our backyard,
'cause I guess that's what happens if you get too close to you.

When the good girl goes bad,
you get angry because
I'm supposed to be your perfect child
not supposed to be
your screw up child
your lonely child
your lazy child
your anxious child
not supposed to be
your good for nothing child
your dysfunctional child
your doesn't give a fuck about anything anymore child.
why don't I fucking give a fuck about anything anymore?

When the good girl goes bad
your life falls apart,
because clearly
you had enough to deal with already,
because clearly
this is all my fault,
because clearly
you don't have the time to face your good girl
and
because clearly
that's all on me.

When the good girl goes bad
because you left her out on the counter all those years, sitting there to rot.
And though I know that you can't waste your time putting it away, 'cause you never cared for it anyway,
maybe you shouldn't have bought the milk if you didn't want to drink it.
And I know the milk should take care of itself
but I tried and that only works for a couple of years
before the good girl gone bad falls far off the counter, spills across the floor,
and the only thing left is to throw that nasty old milk away
because your bread, eggs, oil, etc. need your attention
and it's just too late for the good girl.

When the good girl goes bad
because she never asked to be the good girl
or maybe I did, I don't really remember,
but not like this.
I just wanted to be loved
but little did I know that
the good girl just sits there
keeping herself afloat,
but the boat can't guide itself if it wasn't given eyes.
The boat can't patch itself if you keep telling it its still brand new
when its really old, broken, and covered in holes.
You shouldn't put a boat in the water if you know its going to sink,
but I guess you only really need a couple good boats
so you can just toss the good girl.

When mama's little good girl goes bad,
she feels guilty
because she was told she'd always be
the good girl.
Though, its hard being the good girl when you don't have any windshield wipers for your tears at night.
But the tears at night aren't supposed to exist
because
I'm still mama's mother fuckin' good girl,
just...
please pretend I haven't gone bad.
I added to what was originally posted. I was having some technical issues and decided to just post what I had before, but this is the full poem (5/16/18)
Next page