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Ron Gavalik Jul 2016
If you let the ******* get you down,
you deserve to be down.
It's that simple.
While the mad howl
into the void
of restless summer nights,
bad *******
sip cool drinks
in confident silence.

Bad *******
laugh when others weep,
feast when others hunger,
they **** long and deep
the angels others crave.

Bad ******* die
far more often,
worn from the continual fight,
broken by the drama
of never-ending
women.

In rebirth,
bad ******* learn
to wring out every last drop
of a whiskey flawed life.
Then and only then
do blood red skies,
that musky scent of wet ****,
or these typed words
have any real meaning
or significance.
Reflection.
Jack Jenkins Mar 2017
Yeah, we're broken,
Torn apart and led astray,
Scarred by wounds you never see,
Jaded against the world and it's beliefs.

We are the misfit *******,
That keep loving through the pain,
Because we'll take the hits for the rest,
Because we know that we are the best.

So raise your bruised arms up high,
Let the world see your black eyes,
Cuz we know we're misfit *******,
And we're proud to bleed for you.
Mateuš Conrad May 2018
fake news or no news,
yetis or
                    drunk eskimos
loosening a ****
                   on a trampoline...
whatever,
                   one fact is certain:
male sparrows,
                and mallards?
blush *******.
                     hands down
i honestly can only
drink... what's tha'....
less VAT and more F...
     vvvvv'aha...
v'ah thought?
   - bran...
      brand...
           BRADLY!
   caught a sober sailor:
straight, no ice...
and i somehow received
a castration notice minding
these two bird species,
which exfoliated in:
dull dumb hay-coloured
female...
   my my...
the males are ripe for
a military procession,
and a unanimous yell
akin to the modern russians...
slightly the gay hurrah,
and more mother Ural
citing:               itself...
       sparrow males
and mallards...
          cut those ballsies
off an i'll crown
myself the last prince
of a Bahrain harem...
to appease shamrock
sheikh baldy...
              start
   flustered over a well
salivated paper aero-experiment
hitting slam-dunk
shamrock rap...
       eh... the usual...
        hand only comes
in second to exploring
the ****...
          kissing prostitutes
is apparently equivalent
to stalling on: blah...
        blush *******
though...
     in vivo memoriae mors:
in life, the memory of death,
guess death has
to revive owning up
             to a bit of life...
imagination i can agree
dies, utterly...
        but memory?
    hard to **** off memory...
thinking can die the easy
death of mishearing
   the term: future...
   but memory?
            blush *******,
the male examples of
sparrow and those
english pub ducks and
bulldog card game subjects
of depiction...
     no... i'm pretty sure
a ****** wouldn't
   be composed with
      imagining a scenario
for death being
        stanced as: panicky...
problem with
perfecting a deviance...
         becauae...
this mea culpa
      *******-shaving
mantra?
                 it's...
   kinda... itchy...
   irritating...
                status quo
     fizzy, or rather:
  boiling under the radar...
          mea culpa mea culpa
mea culpa...
                to have been born
into this sort of masochism?
       counter arguments:
     heading into a cul de sac...
like the genesis of
cognition
   with an chimp scratching
its cranium...
         nice to know
the fungus brigade
having two pence worth
                of argument
to imply:
         infested, long lost
limb,
replaced with a pickled
fungus stump,
or the "hallucination"
   of a brain and spine
            in a bio-broth...
   hell, if it's safe to say that
god-head-fungus spoke
through me...
           photosynthesis
edibles are...
                  what was the point?
a ******* mushroom
conspiracy?!
              blush *******...
those male green 'ed
ducks, and notably
the in-reverse
   niqab slit male sparrows...
   blush *****...
               you almost
want them to become stuffed
mantles...
      if only not compensated
by the jittering
movements...
   the irony of being
able to float, like a bumber-sticker
with an annoying
relief for body in ushering
out a quack... like some sort
of a squeezed *******
revealing a:
                     HA-to-Q-to-mmm...
and you'll never know
visting a *******,
given the nearing a week-old
        "moral" hangover...
trigger-happy-itch though?
      don't know that
                   'un either...
           a 2 year celibacy spree?
no wonder i'm disorientated...
i attempted the same
results from cutting up
raw beef into a culinary
party-of-one in the guise
of a tartare;
             oh god, it can't be minced
beef...
            nearing sushi...
popcorn sushi -
        edible bits,
             simulating cartilage treats!
kaleidoscope of torn
                   into sinew lisps;
and it doesn't even bother
me eating poached chicken...
  given the precursor
of broth...
                   notably with
pregnant-pouch-soft
    delicacy of certain
vegetables...
  notably a leak,
   an onion or a garlic tooth...
i'll admit though:
nothing beats
oven "hibernated"
poultry skin...
   and cartilage... of any sort.
Waverly Nov 2011
Who Am I?

Well,
I must be
that ******,
the one
in the black hoodie
***** sweatpants
and an uncombed eye,
that's always wooly
scratchy,
bloodshot
with searching for
my stash spot,
that ******
in your peripherals
that you keep your eye on
because he's
not
in a polo
looking nice,
talking
"well-spoken"
and
not
a threat
to your beautiful
lily-white daughter.


Because I grew up
fixing myself
ramen noodles
and
lifting the welcome mat
after school,
I must also be
that ******
whose father wasn't
in the same house
until he was age 13,
and when I tell you that,
you weren't expecting it
because "you're not a racist."
but
you weren't surprised.


You see,
I must be
that ******,
a stand-in
for all other *******.
I must be that ******
who represents
all *******,
not because you are racist,
but because I'm the only
******
you've met
who doesn't talk like
dis, y'know whatmsayin,
and i talk like
this, do you know what I'm saying?
I must be that ******.

In order for you
to feel okay
being around me
I must be that ******
who goes to college
does the right
thing
the white thing
and gets a job
a nice little house,
a nice black wife
with a nice
new england
clear
dialect,
(what I was
trying to get at
earlier
is that ****** dialects,
by their mere intonation,
denote stupidity,
right?)
and doesn't say a word
when his white friends
make ****** jokes
or talk in a ****** dialect
mocking some Aunt Jemima
they heard at Walmart.

But,
I also must be that ******
who doesn't step out of line
and say
"WHY IS IT
THAT IN EVERY SINGLE
ENGLISH CLASS
WE READ
ONLY
TWO
BLACK AUTHORS
A SEMESTER,
AND THAT'S
ENOUGH,
JUST ENOUGH
TO KEEP THE
****** PARENTS
HAPPY."

And If I happen to be a ******,
I,
by all means,
must not be that ******
who had a white girlfriend,
and
this girlfriend
after dating
a ******,
tried to date a white guy
she liked,
and when she told him
that she had dated,
loved,
and yes,
******
a ******,
he had said back:
"I can't believe
you ****** a ******."

Then again,
I must be that ******
with the big swinging ****
able to destroy
a white girl's ******
with its pulverizing
power.

And,
please,
If I am going to be a ******
don't be the one
who writes a poem
about
having to be
that ******,
because those
kinds of *******
are being
over-sensitive,
those dashiki-wearing-*******
who think
"Da white man dis."
and "Da white man dat."

Because
I am not one of those *******
descended from the first people on earth,
your brother,

not in the ****** way,

but the familial,
species way.

Why am I even writing
this, ****** isn't a main operative
word anymore.

Search and find "******"
and
replace with
"Black Guy." That way it becomes
a joke.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
. 'as for those poets, only the perverse follow them. do you not see that they go too far in every direction and say things, which they cannot do?' (ash-shu'ara / the poets 26:224-226).

call them what you like,
the Huguenots,
for all i care...

   you always side with
the "heretics"...
  
   given that, "said" heretics
retain some cultural value
relativism of other cultures,
namely in the form of
depiction -

    since why would, "the word"
be deemed holy,
    ****-naked,
                rather than donning
a bikini of "iconoclasm"...
         when words... are at
the meat-market of copyright -
what with © coca cola?

                 sunni islam would have
never allowed sufism...
  but Farsi does...
  and will continue...
since no Iranian will bow
before an Arab within the schematics
of history...

          Sunni Islam, it's Wahhabi sentimentality...
so why persist in signing
the Adhan?
   why not speak in a honing like
drone sentiment of plain speech?
i thought all music was banned?
the current Adhan is a form
of music... isn't it? BAN IT!

    you never side with these Sunni
muslims, exploiting Bangladeshi labor,
you side with the heretics of Iran...
these *******, i can at least respect...
  
      no fast cars, convenient ongoing
cultural insurrections -
   Sufism...
       Afghan women's poetry,
and all that much closer to Hindu mysticism...
    
yeah... "islamophobia":
but only against Sunni Islam...
   but Shia Islam?
   no problem...
   i could stomach these peoples
like i could stomach the in-between
of the Turkish variant -
no ideology - simply, pure, power throttle...

i could make a great Janissary -
with a Turkish barber...
         for a great trim of hair and beard...
i'd cast a shadow on some
obscure chocolatier of Brussels
who thinks himself a politician...

     but there are certain aspect of Islam
i am willing to tolerate...
   what happened to the son in law
of Muhammad, namely, Ali...
was raw ******* kicking...

               promises, promises...
no promises...
           Shia Islam, as an European,
i can tolerate, Turkish Islam, i can tolerate...
Turkey is incrementally shy
of being treated at the 2nd variant of Iran...
at least with Iran, we share a history
via the insurrection into the ancient
texts through Greece...

  come to think of it...
whenever i listen to
matta's song echo babylon...
i start feeding myself goosebumps,
reminding myself
of Cyrus... Nebuchadnezzar...
and the dim-wit that was
   Belshazzar...

always siding with the heretics...
if not on economic groundwork,
then at least motivating,
rather than monetizing an idea...

and the Shia muslims are...
    one way or another...
   unlike the gluttons of Dubai...
the barbie dolls of postage stamp
"proof" of progress,
in size, and worth...

   Sunni Islam would have
never allowed poetics to remain
a viable form of expression -
the Persian tradition that is,
far beyond the western concern
for a comment section...

         Shia Islam allows patronage
of the arts, notably poetry,
without concern for monetary
funding, it, at least, doesn't prohibit it...
given the pride of the Persians...
Sunnis and their continual quest
for finding water...
    sure... poetry is pointless within
such restrictions of
existential concerns...
    but... given the current, civilized
establishment?
   sky-scrapers in *******
sand dunes?

         the qu'ran should have
forbidden the architectural ambitions
equivalent to the tower of babel
being erected, in environments,
that could never sustain said projects...

    and who originally spewed the term
islamophobia?
Sunni Islam...
        i never liked this strand of belief...
i hate the Sunnis like
a Shia partisan...

p.s. it's called patriotism is America...
but nationalism in Europe...
    you sure that's not a synonym?
Europeans can't be patriotic,
and Americans are never nationalistic?

...

   well: how could i ever convert to islam,
i do enjoy the adhan from time to time,
"sorry", but i do...
  i can't help it:
if i'm a sucker for pop songs,
i'm also a sucker for the adhan...
   crusader songs, templar songs become
stuffy after a while...
and last time i checked:
     there were the northern crusades
against the baltic people:
notably prussians, lithuanians...
with that cushion of: mediating the
escalation of war by the polacks...
coming from the east:
  last time i checked the mongols
didn't reach leipzig...
               buffer zone people...
and what of the ottoman onsalught
of vienna 1529: the ****** winged hussars
won the charge...

so, coming back to heidegger... aphorism 26
ponderings IX... how am i to not be
the historical animal?
         perhaps in german, in germany
i might become a non-historical animal,
to begin: anew, but with a terrible
past to hide, to negate...
   i could do that: if i were a german,
speaking german, in germany...
but i'm in england:
            i might have some roots in
Silesia, but it's "hard" to not be a historical
animal, an "animal" with a sense of time,
i.e. a future a past a present...
esp. under the english conditions
of: the biological animal momentum narrative,
like a tsunami, like an earthquake...
ripples throughout...
              i can't move forward with
the english championing darwinism every
single ******* step of the way...
why can't they hide darwin like the polacks
hid copernicus...
given the motto: copernicus -
who moved the earth, and stopped the sun...
why wouldn't i escape into history
if the current biological reality is:
(a) a yawn... the cruel nature of per se?
   the courting of pigeons on a t.v. antenna...
pigeons get rejected all the time,
lesson learned, he bows and bows,
coos... expands his tail feathers upon
the bow then folds them... she flies away...
repeat...
    (b) i can't escape being a historical
animal in the way that what the current
facts are being repeated have encountered
a whiff of Chernobyll...
              history is inclided to answer reality...
biology? not so much... not from what i've
seen and heard...
             truly a schizophrenics disney dream:
to walk among the newly insane feeling
like the only sane among them...
beau-ti-ful!
                   well... given the current criteria
of being bilingual as being synonymous
with being a schizophrenic...
           magic!
                    
   now the crescendo...aphorism 24
ponderings X:

              the word designates, the word signifies,
the word says, the word is (heidegger)...

i found that you can only write
"philosophy" with a neat, fixed vocab. regime,
clarity of boundaries...
    quadratic events in vocab.:

i.e. the reflexive: yourself, himself, itself etc.
and the reflective: your, self....
                       his, self...
                                  it, and the self...
                    ergo? atheistic scissors,
  the two articles, indefinite and definite
                                 a / the "self"...

i'm not playing "identity politics",
when i say that only two peoples ever managed
to sack Moscau... the mongols and the polacks
with the help of lithuanians,
"identity politics" only happens in
post-colonial society, akin to the english,
i'll speak the english,
but i will not be a cucked indian of
the former raj: i will eat the fish & chips,
i will eat the sunday roast,
   i will eat the english breakfast with great
delight...
            but i will not do what these former
colonial masters expect of me:
integrate at the expense of making my
mutterzunge into hubris!
stubborness contra pride...
                hard to tell the difference...

and why do i like heidegger so much?
i'm not into the ad homine arguments...
my grandfather, was, a communist party member...
so?
       i like heidegger... because he appreciates
poetics, i like that poets can share the same
values as philosophers,
thanks to heidegger: we have been requested
back into the republic...
if plato and islam didn't like us, hanging around,
some offshoot german thinker / promenade
enthusiast like used enough to,
i suppose: ban the theatre puppeteers...

i am not playing identity politics...
biological reality is not enough...
but archeological reality?
       can you really advance to counter?
i was born near:
Krzemionki Opatowskie, a Neolithic and
early Bronze Age complex of flint mines
for the extraction of Upper Jurassic (Oxfordian)
banded flints...
  personally? i don't believe in
the African genesis conundrum...
i believe "my" people originated from
the Indian sub-continent,
as, associated with the complex:
Indo-European categorization of language;
i'm still to see an African phonetic
encoding system, beside the hieroglyphics...

i, was, born, there! i'm not a displaced
post-colonial debacle between former master
and former slave...
i have: roots... i'm not ******* up to the fish & chips
brigade with a friday night's worth of curry...
i cook my own curry,
and by god: it is the food of the gods...
i'll give the blue indians that counter...
but sure as **** not the worth of mead
or whiskey...

if they only tolerated themselves,
sure, learn the english language,
but know this much:
           english is the modern lingua franca...
it's the language of economics,
forget the natives, too ignorant to learn
either deutsche or française:
island-folk...
                what else, what other attitude?
even the russians are like:
that land of the weirdos? the idiosyncratics?
yes, we know that land...
the only "thing" that shelters the english
are the h'americans, the south africans,
the australians etc.,
  sure as **** the scots aren't sheltering them...
and, mind you?
   if the i.r.a. really wanted to plant
a bomb?
   a real bomb? they'd revert from speaking
any english to begin with... resorting
to revising their usage of gàidhlig:
ga-id-hlig... gaelic...
   like the welsh, stubborn people, proud people,
retaining their Çymraeg...
celt: said kelt...
the glaswegian football team?
       Çeltic... not: keltic...
  borrowed from the greek: sigma (ς: cedilla to ****)...
   wow! all the particulars in the english tongue!
guess it would take an ausländer to spot them!

U-21 european championships,
england versus romania:
                           a magnificent match...
the youngsters playing better football
than the oldies in their mid to late / early 30s...

i'm trying to tolerate Islam,
               it's not in my nature...
            hell... i enjoyed visiting a turkish barber
shop, i still have an unflinching opinion that,
the turks are the best barbers in the world...
but...

              this quote, is going to **** you:
same aphorism / pondering (24 / X) -


*** fight videos - count dankula...
you know what i'd love to do to these little
snarky *****?
the french revolution isn't enough...
n'ah, them hanging, is not enough....
ever heard of the butchers' hook?
                 it's also callled close-up fishing...
imitation hang-man...
   you insert a fishing hook...
and you let the sweeney todd ****** dangle...
on a hook, rather than a noose...
lords of salem come your way?
i'd rather the snarky teen hanging off
a fisherman's hook than dangle
like some lynched ******...
beside the suffocation,
i'd like them with a fisherman's hook entombed
in their hard palette...
         i don't want them hanging...
what am i? a sadist?
  i want them on the fisherman's hook!
when suffocating without a broken spine absorbed
by the neck isn't enough!
  fisherman's hook gallows is a
masterpiece... of suffering...
  most certain...
  when cheap comedy is being towed...
making fun of bums, or homeless people...
the current society is so welcome
to bypass all the "adventures" of Loki...
but akin to the lords of Salem...
burn!? such a limitated imagination!

ah... right... digressing...
        the reflexive / reflective quadratic...
language - only if speech  has acquired
the highest univocity of the word does it
become strong (enough) for the hidden
              play of its essential multivocity
(as withdrawn from all "logic"),
             of which poets and thinkers alone
are capable, in their own respective modes
and their own directions of sovreignty.

we do live in a time of a lost sense
of dialectic, since we do not live in a time
of etertaining dialogue,
perfectly sensible opinions,
that's all we have...

                       if one of these snarky *******
came up to me...
they'd get a chance to experience a rubric
of 4, knuckles...
what's 189 centimeters in empirical?
6ft2...      oh!
                   see where imagination takes you?
and here i was: thinking i was without it!
butcher's hangman...
oh, not so easy...
                  
                fame by no association to fame...
just the tears of parents who raised their children
to be nothing more than rugrats...
annoying gnat like bothersomes;
and nothing quiet special to be associated
with weimar berlin...
     just, these,
   h'american mall onlookers
with pwetty-guy-for-a-white-fly-mentality,
as borrowed from californian
1990s punk;

re-used ****** losers.

mad-hatter's fraction: 10/6....
      0.666...
      well: to the given extent:
1.666666(7)....
     1, 0, /6,
no number is divisible by 0,
every number, divisible by 1:
is the same number...
    mad hatter's 10/6...

   re-used ****** losers...
i like that phrase...
        7 for every 6, 7 for every 6...
until the 0. fraction comes
a 1.: exponential serf of 0...
0 being the multiplier...
          
         i really am growing a beard to less
don it, but rather to experience
a relief from patience...
war robots?
the first non n.p.c. game...
i like that, very much...
      and when i did:

you know my first experience of
love at first sight?
the younger sister of my then girlfriend...
****** up ****...

love at first sight is a terrible phenomenon...
i was nearing 18, she was barely 13...
i was dating her older sister...
but it was love at first sight,
the trouble with: love at first sight:
it doesn't lie...
it tries to lie...
          but it can't lie...

   paedophilia? a bit... untouched bodies
though... bodies of people who were
never supposed to touch...
i once said to a fwend:
well wouldn't it be ****** up if i touched
her?
   she's a muse, which doesn't translate
into vacating her as a busy body
worth of a touch, does it?
     if only my old friend samuel said
otherwise:
sylvester "contra" tweety:
my first girlfriend...
but her sister?
         i was nearing 18, she was about 13...
love at first sight...
untouched, cradled, unscathed...
and so she remained...
   until she did what every girl would
have done...thank god she remained
a figment of my imagination...
   rammstein: rosernrot...
    
           i have seen love at first...
such a load of ******* that it had to be
the younger sister of a girl i was dating...
and the **** that i had to be 18 and see
was just beginning her teenage transition...
the world unfair i grant
the most justifications... as being
the (just - unnecessary adjective) arbiter...

love at first sight becomes a forbidden love...
love at first sight was always a forbidden
love...
           and the sort of "love" that achieves
a perspctive of change that doesn't
translate into old age...
love at first sight is soon translated
into a love of affairs closely associated
with middle-age disenfranchised
state of affairs...
i.e. to love again...
            how else to feel relief from
having lost both one's inhibitions
               as well as one's ambitions?!
in the conundrum of the mortal
"question" of the continuum being
preserved?
Thomas Crone Dec 2013
To all the ******* who don't
Know what is and isn't important
For their own **** good.
A *****, rigid, spiked, smelly
One finger salute for each
And every one of you.

This ******* throws his kids
Out into the streets in November.
Big man of the house who trys so
Desperately to be intimidating,
With a ****** back and a
Horrible stench of alcohol on his breath.

This ******* who thinks she's special.
The stuck up ***** that too closely
Resembles a plump ****** carrot.
Who thinks the perfect guy is a hairless
Fruity smelling mommy's boy *****
With perfect flippy hair and a big ****.

This *******, the few, the proud,
The fruity smelling mommy's boy *****
Who wouldn't know a pair of pliers
If they were ripping off his sparkly earrings.
Never having an ounce of dirt on his hands,
But at least she... I mean he has nice teeth.

This ******* that can't tell one honest
Fact about his "hard and lonely" home life.
The one who nods and laughs but just wants to ****.
Who beats off to his computer after taking a hit
That he bummed off his rich friends.
Who is confused as to why some people (me) hate him.

This ******* who screws with the emotions
Of one of the best guys ever to glide through her life.
Who throws him on a roller coaster with smiles
And flirtatious giggling while she lets him kiss her.
Then throws him to the side and takes the next in line.
I wish only the very best for you, you ****** *****.

Those ******* who abuse, torment
Or play with someone who just wishes the best.
The ones who hurt the vulnerable
To feel better for themselves.
No one deserves the **** you give,
Except each and every one of you.

Honorable mention to those *******
That complain about all men being the same
When in reality they're just searching for
The same type of meat headed ******
Every time they have such a painful terrible
Breakup. Just shut the **** up. For real.
Pluto says
Keep your hug

Pluto says
Dwarf Planet my ***

Pluto says
Sticks and Stones *******

Pluto says
I know what I am
I don’t care
For your “opinion”

Captured by the Kuiper Belt! Please.
Or one my favorites,
A cold rock!

You called me a trans-Neptunian object?
I have five moons!
An 11 year old girl tried to name me.
She won £5 but I’ve had many names.
I am fond of Hiro.
But I’ve also liked Minerva.
I am hardly a minor planet.

In 2006 they tried to make a verb out of me
To "pluto" is to "demote or devalue someone or something.”
*******!
So passive aggressive and insulting.

I am not carrying that around with me
My orbit is 248 years.
At a 17 degree angle thank you very much
To pay my respects to that egomaniac Sun.
Why would I care what you think?
Perhaps I am envied because I am so far away.
I don’t think that I am far away at all.
It’s relative, no?
Yes, I am removed
from that Versailles situation over there
and all that *******.
That horrible planet
You know the one that I mean.
The one that’s crawling with “things”
They’re not even you.
Disgusting.

I am awash with molten ices and
I even sport a plasma tail.
I spin in nitrogen gases
On my own path
Alone
With my FIVE moons!
Just us!

They claim that there are other
Dwarf Planets here and there
And even go so far as to suggest
That I am the puniest amongst them
But with my five and five more still
That’s 10 to 8
And you already know what I can do.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
daj, do wynagrodzenia: reszty.
daj: to niby: siebie;
a... dam... dam...
ale pierw: powiem:             to!
(ich) nicht werden
                  geben (ihr) das nacht!
first... i'll punch myself
hard enough to give myself
a plum-eye: ******* pacifists...
and then?
    then i'll strap a trouser belt
to protect my knuckles...
and then... then...
                    then: we'll "talk":
who might find a translator
ready...
   god...
i'm gagging for a
knuckle exchange...
        almost... itching!
like i might await
a shaving... from a Turkish
barber... in Essex...
of all Danish palaces;
and why would i want to allow
consort with these women?
considering the fact that
the russian ones believe in trans-national
grievance taxation:
of someone... who hasn't...
actually died...
              you know what?
*******...
suffer...
       watch me wipe my ***
with a satanic smile
ennobled
by a coulrophobia...
excesses of vogue
                      atypical models...
how is it... that...
coulrophobia doesn't translate
in reverse?
  and what's up
with the black privilege of
jass music, akin to white mozart...
as...  
  sure as ****, the drum would be
the first, and only thing,
prior to the people learning
the ******* clarinet!

oh drop me your ****** ***
holocaust dead bomb
on a polish ***...
     i triple, quadruple dare you!
you *******... ivory coast
   centipede!
               i'm *******...
as watts: wild-eyed...
       unstrap me from this
"unreality" of conversation...
then undo the internet banking...
and the rest of it...

             not adam watts!
    glitter & doom....
who?      tom waits...
oh **** me... blue valentine?
if that's not a **** with me
album... what is?
                 live circus?
        
do i look like a ******* ****-
(see the hyphen?
it's a prefix... the english are
lazy sometimes: couldn't,
i.e. could not,
remnants of shakespearean
english...

       i'll always cite macbeth...

  time, thou anticipat'st my dread
exploits: the flighty purpose never
is o'eertook, unless the deed go with it.
from this moment, the very firstlings
of my heart shall be
  the very firstlings of my heart.
   and even now, to crown my thoughts
with acts, be it thought and done.


it's hardly a racial slur, ergo...
why so ******* sensitive akin to a french
footballer or a ballerina?
   ****- (hyphen! hyphen!) ergo a prefix...
as already mention:
no, no...
   it's not: no iraqi ever called me a pa-ki
      (pákí)... yeah...
and you never called an afghanistani an
afghan, ever, no?
   pure camaraderie in that part of
the world... all the way... yeah yeah... yeah...
-stani (suffix) is sometimes missing
because... the english like to shorten words...
e.g. why is daniel: dan,
why is matthew: matt?
  why is muhammad: mo (farrah)?
                                    ******* pansies...
police your circumcised penises fiddling
english teenager girl, first,
come after my vocab. justifications: after;
savvy?

or a gypsy?
   by now...
     i'm looking like any
traveler...
and the world...
       forever resembled
a world,
  in the confines of
      a claustrophobia...

but... if there's a bigger concern for
a world...
  and a freedom...
i want a bare knuckle fight...
a black eye...
namely...
you bring  BOXING GLOVE...
and i'll bring...
     a LEATHER BELT...
wrapped around my knuckles,
and the wrist...
    like i might care to give
a second attempt to smile...

ah... the men... who care
about minding, if not in the least,
keeping women...
      bye bye, bye bye...
       and i've allowed myself
to know my grandfather...
as i did the slap in the face...
and...
the key question:
in the unfathomability of counting
the 32 / 4 ratio...
alas... one fist... one smile...

and countless... dentistry encounters...
because?
   because the rest?
the cultural artifacts of a today?
  lost to h'americana...
            as i might have wished...
for my prior genes
to make an autobiography
in **** germany...
  
   what?
  
      well... obviously: the oops.

no, for the crescendo...
you know...
           i'm getting this funny vibe...
gott ist tot... it's not really spectacular...
nietzsche really believed in eternity,
to the point where he pointed:
what does science offer, only old age...
what does religion provide? eternity...
oh nietzsche was big on eternity...
   gott ist tot is as unspectular as:
is it: how to do you pronounce x,
or is it: how do you pronunciate y?
debate:
              everyone says around here
the former... since no one wants to be a *****...
pro-nun-ci-ate (pro-nun-cíate)...
   might as well replenish the vocab. bank
and replace the word with:
how do you elocute z? / recite)....

gott ist tot / gott ist tod...
    "same ****, different cover"...
you know why i believe in god?
    not the christian reference points...
salvation blah blah, saviour and hide & seek blah blah...
n'ah... where would i derive all my vocab.
hunger if not from him?
   some men derive their vocab. from
women or gambling...
            i am not in the position of their
luxury... so god it is...

            primarily though?
               god is metaphysics...
             ergo? his judgement is not clouded
by metaphysical questioning...
it's impossible to receive a metaphysical
answer from a metaphysical question
when engaging with a metaphysical
ontological paraphrase of one's own search
for meaning in this mortal frame...

oh sure sure, my belief in god is as juvenille
as anyone else's belief in humanity's
clarity when it comes to jurisprudence
and its application...
    i've experience "jurisprudence" once...
drive-by phone theft...
me and three fwends...
   i catch the number plate...
i tell one of my fwends to note it down,
police station, report, culprit found,
a sit in at a barkingside police station
looking at mug images,
spot the ****** (it was dark when the mugging
took place, photographic memory, **** happens)...
a court session, australia is playing england
at the ashes (****, i missed it)...
in court the defence lawyer shows me
another picture of the culprit...
back then photogrpahs had dates
attached to them...
the photograph? over 4 years old...
i tell him: but this photograph is 4 years old!
how can i identify if this is the same
person: i, myself, will probably
don a beard in four years time!
      a simple slip-up...
        now that i have a beard:
it's so much more fun than growing your
hair long... i hated the nickname
chewbacca back in high school when i was
growing mine for a french braid...
i walk out of the court,
come to terms with the detective...
and i see the same hunger in him as i see in me...
will justice be served?
highly unlikely... since the victim
didn't recognize the *** in the mug-shots...
justice was probably not served...

   and this is how god plays into all of this,
hell or heaven, blah blah...
man created the figure of domina Iustitia
as blind... god created death to be blind...
justice was never supposed to be blind,
death was: the unfortunate deaths
of teenagers in car accidents,
among all the other freak accidents...

clouded with so many metaphysical questions
i don't appreciate man's ability to adhere
to jurisprudence without being
subjectively contaminated...
i have more belief in an "imaginary"
god than belief that strains me to belief
in man's sense of justice...
          the nuremberg trials are a rare exception...
but only when the culprits are
unabashed and fathomable by a collective
sense of pride... a blidness...
i believe in god, because i'd love to experience
the judgement of a post scriptum of
metaphysics...
  personally? i have been wronged...
heavily...
            i will not name names....
i know when and how i was wronged,
and by whom...
                2007... Canterbury...
      i won't name names: i'm not a rat...
man is too clouded with metaphysical questions
to begin with, god isn't,
he's a metaphysical ontology "bias"...
which is why, he is primarily a jurisprudent
answer...
   i'd love to experience divine jurisprudence,
hell or heaven are not of my concern...
and i don't imply divine jurisprudence
associated with the polytheistic take of
jurisprudence via a solipsistic mechanism
of a minor god and the person in question
without the hurt party...
in monotheism the god is solipsism personified...
these days: also the personna non grata...
so no... gott ist nicht tot...
            he's a personna non grata...
i just don't appreciate the human *******
of law, law governance...
   come on, in england you can receive
an a.s.b.o.s. for your cockerel being too loud
in the morning, your dog barking...
           would you trust man with
jurisprudence?
  a woman was cleared of the ******
of her husband
       when she hammered his head into a pancake:
over an abusive relationship...
police, weren't, "there"?!
sure sure... the hammer will do...
i believe in god without a sense of reward...
i just don't think man is capable of
passing justifiable laws...
no man could ever pass the eternal laws,
gravity... 100°C for the boiling of water...
i need a being  who has groundwork
in eternal laws, in unshakeable laws...
the ten commandments aren't:
you shall not...
   more... maybe, you shouldn't...
they are the most pristine jurisprudent
laws available... the: maybe you shouldn't,
eh, chappy?

       i just don't like playing the thesaurus game
on the more tight-knit game
of "passing" the wink-wink of Solomon's
judgement...
please, **** me please,
i'll eat 20 raw herrings in a cream sauce,
slurp 30 oysters,
eat 40 strawberries on a hangpverl
eat out about 50 harem virgins
like a castrato if you ask me, nicely,
**** camel cockey:
lucly i landed on a black gold slurp
with plenty of bangladeshi slaves:
******* of riyadh...
     what did muhammed tell you?
you camel jockeys / sand *******
have clearly forgotten...
******* arabs: short attention span...
you need to remind
the retards...
the dajjal would come from the east...
a palace of gardens...
well obviously the prophet wasn't
thinking about genghis khan...
            
  hmm barbarians...
vikings, arabs: yet so inclined to like poetics...
funny, that...
the civilized peoples banished
the poets...
            the ruling class and their cushioned
people: sacrosanct sycophants...
wankers, basically.

    the hajr? muhammad spoke of the dajjal
coming from the east,
and the east being a city of gardens...
where isn't riyadh and where is mecca?
isn't riyadh east of mecca?
was the dajjal to come from the outside
of islam, or from wtihin?
      last time i checked...
sh'ite islam isn't friendly to sunni islam...
if islam was the one true religion...
would have a shcism have occurred?
i don't think so...
   a persian would never bow before
an arab... that much os true...

oh i believe in god...
given how man practices jurisprudence...
is it some sort of, a, thesaurus game
i wasn't told about?
to me the human quest for jusctice is
a thesaurus game...
man is incapable to pass but one,
eternal, law...
he's great at nuanced laws...
laws allocated to sports...
i mean, **** me, cricket?
the best vocab. you'll ever pick up...

even god isn't as pertinent
in making the sort of music associated
with the limited alpha-to-beta
of A, B, C, D, E, F, and G...
wow! seven... seven?!
how many heads does the beast
of revelation have? oh... 7!

i'll stop tolerating islam, and start respecting it,
when it, acknowledges its presence
as a character study in the book of revelations...
then i'll just move on,
having made my point...

until that time comes...
    it's 600 years shy of becoming what
degenerate christianity has become,
oh and it's ripe...
it's gagging to implode!
600 years and wait for it to become
the next secular vasal conglomorate...

the warning muhammad gave
about "the best from the east"
was in point of question:
   a reference ti gneghis khan...
more like ibn saud:
  thst fat diabetic one eyed ogre...
and the legacy of decadence he left
behind...

saudi men with slavuc girlfriends,
buying up pink cushions and *******
chihuahuas...
**** after ****...
  you know the three slavic proverbs?
1. better a sparrow in your
hand, than a dove on your rooftop?
explanation?
better the small joys at-hand,
than impossible possibilities out of reach....
2. a drunk can spot east,
past mecca, whenever honing
the safety of his own bed... even at night...
not much of a proverb...
3. i don't care to rememeber...

once toleration comes into play,
i will, respect... just a waiting game...
i'm pretty sure no iranian will
bow down to a sunni camel jockey...
i like proud *******,
it implies: there are absolutes,
un-moveable goal posts...

                      if you are ever to bind yourself
in supporting a "side" outside a sports' dynamic,
always the outsider...
always the outsider... in this case?
the ****'ite islam brigade...
       the persians...
the sunnis can shove it...
   *****, bones, whatever....

                   ****'ite islam i can
fathom, even respect,
sunni islam i just tolerate...
  as much as iran takes claims for the
big satan in ref. to h'america...
well... if h'america supports the infantile
saudi arabia, who's to blame them?

you know that polonaise joke about
about the pacifism of jews in
2nd world world war poland?
the joke ran along the words:
weren't the jews shooting the nazis
using crooked elbows (rifles)?
they always seemed to miss them,
taunted into walking into gas chambers,
the ******* hobbits...

          what? some bolshevik Brooklynian
jewish rada is to spare me
                 the pay-up diffrential
telling me, i was wrong?

  as i said before: the nazis lamented
when the warsaw uprising happened...
no, st. paul's doesn't stand proud
because, because...
   even with the blitz...
                 the luftwaffe were told:
you drop a bomb on st. paul's: firing squad...
and when notre-dame de paris -
last time i checked...
   the nazis didn't luftwaffe the **** out
of paris... did they?!

                  the nazis weren't mongols;
no people so well versed in chanel in terms
of their military being so well
   suited & booted could ever make such a
                              architectural sacrilege...

what?! people under the silicon curtain
are gagging, begging even: for nazis!
can i be the first?!
i just want to please the hungry!
if not punk then moving swiftly into ska...
am i the first?
   siliziumvorhang...
well, **** me... from under the eisenvorhang...
what's with these neo-communist pseudos?

and the hebrew god?
a jealous god... so a god with the knowledge
of the existence of other gods...
why wouldn't a jealous god have
no knowledge of other ("imagianry") gods?
to be jealous of only one's own existence?!

3 / 1: that's the ratio....
that's the only ratio... 3 times i experienced
love at first sight:

when i fell in love at first sight...
malina, samantha, janina,
priya....

equal measure: isabella of grenoble...

in reverse:
magda, promis, ilona, kot (i forget her name,
7 years old, first kiss, you can be forgiven
to forget, she had two twin sisters
and she was the senior,
her fasther drove a distribution truck,
milk, i think)...

****, i actually mismanaged
that ratio...

i believe in "a" god...
since i find too much of human jurisprudence
to be riddle with the thesaurus...
i don't think man can pass
law, he can "suppose so"...
but he will never pass the sort of law,
made forbidden,
or absolutely allowed....
i don't believe in a god akin
to the sort of a pontous pilate god
where i'll always find myself
outside of punk evolving into ska...

         mind you...
i'd hate to be trapped within
the confines of an atheistic exclusion zone
of intellect,
      to be trapped in nothing is one
thing, but to be trapped inside
the confines of an atheist's "nothing"
is quiet another....
i don't like being a hamster inside
a cognitive wheel of another...
   god is the jurisprudence spirit,
man the metaphysical spirit...
and i would very much like to stand
in the light of divine law being passed
to finally feel my shadow...

kult: brooklyńska rada żydów...
  not familiar?
  i forgot punk a long time ago...
esp. when californians came up with their
version, ergo? ska...

i'm currently taping a film
about the silesian vampire...
how strange, that the prussians came
back into the ***** of the polonaise...

growing a beard is so much fun!
fiddle after fiddle: and no violin!
atheists bore me
as much as the theistic hags
who's only ambition are
the thrill associated with Sunday
h'america and cinema...
               i can imagine only one
heaven...
where i am blind and given
               a large library of music.
"Man, I can't stand the people who just panhandle and heckle the passersby. It's not their job to support your lifestyle and/or habits! I had one friend who was just harassing people; hey man, leave them the **** alone! I just wanted to punch him in the ******* face. Get a job, ya ***! Trim some **** or some ****!"

"Heh, yeah.. people can be obtrusive about some things.. I still like to try to help if I can; I mean, we're all in this together."

"I don't want your ******* money! Well, I mean, I have a job; I could go over to that ATM and take my money out and spend it.. .but why the **** would I want to?  I only say that 'cause some ******* **** me off. Support yourself, like the rest of the Natural World, you selfish *****!"

"Well, I'd feel better with my cash in hand than in some bank owned by some greedy, shifty, slick, loophole-******* *******."

"Wait a second, boy, do you paint your fingernails?"

"..Yes."

"Are you hetero******?"

"... yes."

"Okay, just checkin'. I'm just curious. I don't care what you do with your **** as long as you're responsible and don't **** with well-meaning girls' hearts and ****. We got too many diseased and pregnant *******. People deserve better than that stupid ****. Some of 'em like being treated like objects, though. Them's the filthy'ns."

"Ookay.. thanks for the advice. I'm going to be on my way now. Have a great day."

"Alright. Don't be an ******* to anyone until they show that they deserve it! Be a ******* Person to other ******* People, you know what I mean, boy?"

"Yep, I sure do. It's been an experience; good morning."
This just happened.
Shayla V Sep 2011
All dimples and curls and pigeon toes when sitting,
purple; and gold dangles
light-skinned girl, dark-skinned girl
depending on the translation
hips swivel to the left, ******* that follow
in commanding black bras
and matching lacy *******.
Rolling backwards into handstands for most *******,
else on the loveseat
whipping love back and forth between the swell
beneath the shorts
and beneath the outer layers,
the lip gloss smiles and masquerades
beneath the veins and bone and guts:
there's a naked, quivering heater
switched on all year long
its dainty wiring peeking out,
the head of the cord puckered.
[08-12-11]
Hustle hard remix freestyle by : junior

(Rap)
Yea young junior baby
Work hard, get paid
Put foods on the table
Pay bills for my parents
My daughter need a kandle
***** I can't handle
Imma hustle hard
If you **** stop me
I will ******* up
Snap my fingers and money come to me
******* im the boss
That what I do
I'm so addict to money like honey *****
Imma making raining on this hoes
******* bend over and touch your toes
Get rich or dying trying
******* I told my dad if I didn't make money
Imma die trying
My daughter is my inspiration
Her smile is my motivation
******* are not my level
I see them pedal their bike
I'm on my Lamborghini  ******
I see my ***** kimbo
Watzup ***** how are u doing
50 cent said, hey homie swish your style up but if they hate let the money pile up.
**** all my ******
Yea kisss my ***
I just miss your funny jokes
If you keep talkin **** behind my back
Imma come and choke you ******
******* I'm not playing
I'm gettin money like 50cent
You *** hoes
I'm ******* *****
***** ****** say, yo jr **** this *****
Yea imma do that ****
While my daughter swimming with the fish
I call her mermaid ******
I'm making money money
You ****** ******* *****
*****
******* ****** wat wrong with this haters
I used to chase ***** until my dad told to chase money
***** ain't my time
Bro, it good tho
I'm wearing bing chain until girls call me **** while ****** hate on me
Let them hate but they can't touch me
Let me take you in the past
When I was a kid
I love big things
Big cars, big house, big ***** and big ****
Dad asked me, son what your fave car
I said, Lamborghini
He said, ****, son this **** is expensive
I said, dad I got this
To all this ****** shot my bro cause he was tryin to get money to feed his daughter
*******, I'm here to ******* up
I'm your ****** nightmare
If you try to get money
Imma come to rob you and **** you
Show no love cause love will get you **** that what 50cent say
All day I'm right here
I'm not goin nowhere
Imma hustle hard until I died
God forgives but I don't ******
Neil Brooks Aug 2013
You once stood for something.
When they told you "NO"
you stood like a black-eyed-susan.
like the tao.
but when they beat you, betrayed you,
hogtied and pepper sprayed you,
you got angry.
You did things that soiled your good name.
I guess you just should have learned to take it,
like the tao.
like the tao, and wait.
like the tao and let the waters rise.
like the tao and overcome.
the weak overcome the tyranny of man with numbers.
WITH NUMBERS.
as each drop of water equally starts the flood.
like each living being that has ever thought
"I will overcome."
I will overcome.
I WILL OVERCOME.
WE WILL OVERCOME.
OR AT LEAST WE'LL DIE TRYING YOU *******!
Waverly Dec 2011
A crazy *******
got in my face
the other day.

"This is my shop!,
I put the work in this *******,
see ya'll young people come in here
trying to mess up my shop,
this is MY SHOP!"

"Mmhmm," a fat ****
in the corner affirmed.

Crazy *******
are often your
barbers.

He's pulled this **** before,
I've seen him do it.

He'll just throw the clippers down
and get in somebody's face,
while they flip dumbly through
Sports Illlustrated.

It's funny as hell.

He had spittle
in cakes at the corners of his mouth
that wiggled
like eggs on an unbalanced beam
and fat lips that looked
like rotten peach slivers;
all brown and ugly pink.

He's in his forties and stumpy.
But all he ever does is yell.

I punched him
right in his lips.

His teeth were hard and scratched my knuckles,
but he backstepped,
gave me one of those crazy people
"I might just cut your head off" looks
and walked to the bathroom to clean himself up.

Crazy *******
think
they're the crazier than everybody else.
LylexRose Jul 2018
18
When I was...

When I was...

When I was 18!

Back at it again, mind doing loops, going through a bend, wading through a field of blood but all I needs a friend, feeling like I'm starting to decend, down a path I'm never coming out of, feeling things are a lil bit intense, and I'm next, but ain't no nobody do it like I do, and in the end, I'll be the one everyone, everything, and nothing will never ******* comprehend, it's this I'm chasing, they might hate it, Ill act like ya'll get it and the game isn't ready, but I am

Living like I'm 18
Take my days with my dreams
Things are different, it's never as it seems
Feeling trapped as a machine
Living like I'm 18
It's hard to choose between

Now I'm starting a new expansion, flushing out everything I use as a distraction, feeling like things are becoming too much; I need to take action, need to go ahead with this, this kinda life I need to abandon, if I go to far now we got a real problem, it's no mistake homie, use your glasses, nevermind my status, this is my ride and I'm captain, I know it's hard to imagine, showing my compassion, no matches to action, I'm no fake for real passion and now it's feels like I'm crashing...

Living like I'm 18
Take my days with my dreams
Things are different, it's never as it seems
Feeling trapped as a machine
Living like I'm 18
It's hard to choose between

I'm full of surprises, how would you discribe this, never too late to realise, how far I'd go to unto demise, yeah now I've got a place to divise, no respect for these lines, ya'll have no idea what I'm going through but ya'll ready to criticise, suppose I should release something more often, and now it's me you've forgotten, walking round looking like a big shot, how long until it's ya'll I haven't got, like to act like a hot shot with a free thought, struggling away last couple of months, sorting out my life and I wonder if I still got it, showing a bit of spark like a megawatt, electricity's not my game but whose to say I'm not shocking, all the little ******* taking their shots, saying I got a case of writers block, so we gonna cut the small talk, they think I've got the writers block, acting like I've hit a road block, that's how you feel well then go ahead and **** my...

...I know it's a joke, a bad one at that, but it's who I am, and it's why I'm born to rap, been wanting to do this since primary, and to all the offended *****, you don't like my music just fire me, oh wait you can't cause ya'll ******* can't touch me, I'mma follow my path to be who I wanna be... this path I thought would stay uncharted, it's just this, this is my beginning, hate this, but I am just getting started.....

Living like I'm 18
Take my days with my dreams
Things are different, it's never as it seems
Feeling trapped as a machine
Living like I'm 18
It's hard to choose between...
Just a sum up of my 18th year alive
Vivian Oct 2013
just another lovesick poem
written by another sad boy
about
being alone or
rejected or
"in love"
as if any of you
*******
have the experience
to look at another human
and know
to the depths of your soul
that you are
in love
all lowercase
because
love isn't trumpets and fanfare
love is
quiet mornings and
simple dinners and
a willingness to be
vulnerable
love is
"hi babe
I know you've had a rough day at work
so you just lay there and
let me make you
***"
or
"I'm gonna make you dinner
and then
I'm gonna tie you up and
*******"
love is not
what we were taught in church or
on the Disney Channel or
from a Stephanie Meyers novel
love is not
what your parents told you
"wait to have *** until you're
married"
abstinence is good
condoms are bad
your *** should be vanilla
men are dominant
women are submissive
missionary is the only position
*** is about procreation not pleasure
love is self defined; find it for yourself.
Andrew Rueter May 2017
I see the rabbits feeding on the grass
My heart is filled with joy
Their life is precious
I see the vultures feeding on the rabbits
My heart is filled with joy
Their life is precious

That's what I never understood about coffins
Life is about expanding your prison cell as much as you can
There's no requirement to be contained once it's over
Our nutriance to the Earth
Is our nutrients into Earth
All creatures that die on this planet
Become a part of it
The Debt they paid to the future
The Debt that is always collected on
We travel nonchalantly on their corpses
Wishing they could appreciate
That each and every one of them
Was one step closer to sentience
This planet's passion project

Could the first single-celled organism
Comprehend my humiliation?
When the first creature walked on land
Was it anticipating my shame?
Did it sprout wings
To give me nightmares of dying in an airplane?
Did ancient Neanderthals dance around a fire
To reenact my adolescence?
Could mystic voodoo shaman
Cure my lack of agency?
Or did lost American tribesmen
Prophesize the complexities of my love?
I can feel all these ******* looking up at me from the ground
And it's just me
As I accidentally burn my notebook with a cigarette
Can be found in my self published poetry book “Icy”.
https://www.amazon.com/Icy-Andrew-Rueter-ebook/dp/B07VDLZT9Y/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Icy+Andrew+Rueter&qid=1572980151&sr=8-1
Juliana Dec 2012
Let’s make vulgarity beautiful
for a couple seconds.
Dwell on the ******* gimmicks of language,
the shock value of mixing syllables together,
the stupidity of poetic “terms”.
I’ll tell you about my hate for
******* clichés,
****** overused poetic devices and word pairings
that ruin the fun for all of us.
I’ll lay down some ground work here:
too many minutes of my life spent
trying to count syllables ,
rhyme words,
analyze and alliterate annoying argumentative articulations.

You know what?
**** alliteration, assonance and consonance,
bastardisations of the brilliance of poetry.
Destroying all appreciation of something so fine
at such early age,
with red pens,
poor introductions,
and misconceptions falling out of every ******* mouth.
Reused and recycled clichés
trivializing the beauty of rain,
that stomach hiccup when you see someone you like
the actual emotions that fundamentally make us human.
The over-judgemental *****
who can’t write for ****,
think they’re high and mighty,
overusing these feelings with the vocabulary of an eight year old,
giving us poets a bad reputation.
**** those *******
with their dark souls
empty hearts and
broken dreams
**** them over cups of cold coffee
in vintage mugs
snapping in a low-lit jazz café.
Sonnets, haikus and ballads aren’t the only forms of poetry,
nothing has to rhyme,
I shouldn’t be graded on my ability to be a thesaurus.
******* teachers narrow-mindedly give us
“creative writing” homework
that's not creative,
like the colour green.
I don’t see how they can judge poetry,
perhaps how it flows and word choice,
but I have an extra syllable
and purple doesn’t rhyme with anything,
**** me right?
Because purple is the only word which
accurately portrays what I mean,
excuse me if I pronounce this differently
rendering my iambic pentameter to ****.
I didn’t deserve a B.
*****.
Poetry isn’t something you can confine to four walls,
it can’t be truly ugly,
it can be the sort of ugly where your mum doesn’t want to put it on the fridge
but she keeps it until you’re satisfied,
and then she trashes it,
but it’s not ugly.
Remember that poetry is supposed to be beautiful,
*******.
Forget about that *****-*****-***** who ******* you over,
that ******* who didn’t say thank you or
that ****-faced ***** who should go digest a bag of *****
and write something worth reading.
Something that will makes eyes wander back to revisit phrases,
admiring the careful craftsmanship
that translates into something universally beautiful.

The moral here is that
poetry is an art to be mastered and
no one has yet to master it.
Some have come close,
and not all of them have used alliteration,
similes about the heart,
metaphors for love,
binding syllable limits
or rhyme schemes.
Whoever told you otherwise is a raging *******
who doesn’t deserve even the lowest paid *******.
Don’t be afraid to use taboo words;
it's your writing and anyone who doesn’t like it can *******.
Despite the irony,
vulgarity can be beautiful.
http://poemsaboutpoetry.blogspot.ca/
My life seems so much ******* better than I ever thought it was. I try to be ******* positive but there is so much **** out there that isn't. I try to have a positive outlook on life but what the **** is right when I turn on the news and see ******* killing each other and ending life. Who are you to ******* decide to take out someone but if I was in your position I probably do the same thing. There are so many ******* that need to be hung, a bullit put to their brain and their blood spilled all over the rug.  **** it, shoot them out on the pavement,  line them up and have a firing squad blow them the **** away. I want to be like a serial killer, so many ******* that need to be dead today. I see them walking the streets, I hear it on the radio, turn on the news, I see them taking advantage of me and you. Getting rid of the nuisance would be so much better.
I like to write morbid poems,  about killing others. Truthfully, there are ******* that shouldn't be breathing. But where do I draw the line? **** it, don't take it personally. And for ****'s sake don't go out there and **** someone just because I wrote something about it!
Geno Cattouse Oct 2013
not since nor silk.
Mother's milk for the generations.. yes she was .

Greeted Lindbergh on touchdown.
Society clone. Rich ******* could not leave her alone. Tall tale teller.Paperback
construct. Stepping into the ball with no invitation and stopped the music and conversation.
Pale skinned poser.
Gettin over.
Her daddy was a man of means.
Hired by the Majesties to count jellybeans.
He loved the local **** to the tune of
Poppa was a rollin stone.

The magistrates and potentates in the republic of bananas. Pinkys up tea sippers .
Could not get hold of collective zippers.

Faded portrait. long dead poser.ball buster. Pretty as crystal.Tough as pig iron.
She was high flying flapper. Cutting a rug. Charleston,Jitterbug. Short skirt flirt. Grandma ?

Smokin hot and  smokin when women did not dare. C.O.P.D. and a hacking cough came the pipers toll.                                                            ­       The Wages.
                                                                ­                           Just keeping it real.
                                                           ­                                                               Sl­ip sliding away.

Drove a Jalopy.
Aiee Pahpi chulo. Bestin May West with a smaller life jacket.

                                                        ­                  Turn the century.
                                                                ­          Trench warfare.
Over the top.The war to end all ? shiiiit.  Great Grandma
was a show stopper. To the very end.
Retrospective on my great grandmother in Belize In the early nineteen hundreds. She was an extremely beautiful woman who was independent and bold in Colonial British Honduras. She was a ground breaker and fearless. Had wealth and lost it all. But remained strong.
josh Dec 2011
She's a dime everytime...
Making ******* rhyme on the grime...
Tell her how great she is if you so incline...
But don't forget she's mine...
Disrespect will get ripped from your spine...
With a smile on my face while I dine..
**** she's so fine...
Bring terror to the streets so divine...
Like a fine wine aging over time...
An acquired taste...
And quit while you're ahead...
******* with my girl will get you two to the chest and one in the head...
Clear...
Mouth to mouth resuscitation...
You might as well give self-mutilation...
It's a celebration...
Of your life affiliation...
Yeah they call me Jkizzle...
No i'm not the white version of Eminem...
Haters can go sit on the bench with the rest of them...
I don't give a **** what you say...
Bow down before I break ya legs...
I go hard for days...
No hesitation...
No room for strays...
Head held high...
Outer space...
So lets arase all the hate...
And go back to loving one another...
I can love you like a brother...
Or ******* over *******...
You know that I'm a ******' baller, Kobé

Erryday I'm killin' *******, OJ

I'm always dealin' with some *******, matador

When all I want's another *****, Labrador

All the disrespect to Kobé
Ja Feel
Hanson Yang Sep 2018
Toney talking **** ever was been at relative action: so this is what happens when i own ****
the game and the actual man that prones ****
talking **** like if it was actual that arms **** short for the factual
i've been underneath like i wrote the bible since like it was his "wonder feat"
You're a wonder feat till you understand like every plundered treats,
the E in Eden has you wonder feats repetitive like a tree grown demanding scars in roots like i was underneath: Playing me only gets you murdered  like actual feats cuz this ******* talking **** like if anything hurters like Obama to your hair mang like how you arose a gangbanger to man defeat
ir really was me mang startin **** everyday all confused everyday like if demand was me.
Cuz i'm all g man another ******* till i'm ever he stand
raise it like how magnitude backstabs left was she man commandin fleets
Raise it like how it passes all magnitude was hidden from know by praise of it's masses, cuz now i'm startin ****, startin **** with my claimed owner of kinfolks, disposing flows and all opposing with your chinblow; been smoke till i'm ******* up all your naturality as it was real in every returned K to the K-O chaos enlived flow the to the now chin mode to every kinsmoke.
Bleed mode like an attempt to **** your **** up with one need- blow of my established chin mode to discovered manhood in precision given of range.
I'm jacking up my A-O to every Kayo like getting my cigarettes jacked now asked for every parallel to mind of my females to enlivened envision of range
enlivened envision of rage
enlivened envision of hate
.....Thinking jacking me was or is ever the body neutral has every one of you and my kinfolk women jacking your **** like shittin you at enlivened in thangs
I'll be everything anything anybody prasing me like assistance in ranks to be given out perception to my women now to restrictive in thangs insisting the aim: right? right, yeah right it's right as given as range
the higher you go you know ******* well of it's enlivened discovery absolute like marraige in range that **** the lesser when you're rearranging the pain
talking **** been magnitude mang like the masses pretend hides **** before i was ever fake claiming lives before you would know ******* well that proof aiming was claimed
as if rhymes was the median:
I'LL **** YOU ******* TO AIM RANGE WAIT,
i'll get your *** craving for everything stolen in energy that i own for every *** that you're in it just validates your life justly justifies your claim to my aim range strength truthly you're only talking **** as hindsight of all desperate measures to the existance of all body. Raise it and be the man of learnt confusion to all hate and chaos as chosen path to the actual "levels HIGHER already like if all extensions was justly validating as all talk when i been spittin claim when i'm shitten remember me as when i am all talk when everyone smaller was all brought like hindsight perception.
Knowing me was all absolute in all talk like minest sight deception: I'll ****** you **** now you're knowing truth: true truest nature before i was ever you in being a faker; more like a being you know truest dreams as instinct before i was ever a ranker: I'll ****** you **** in complete pristine dreamed grabs at crutch crotch as aim range prankster even wankster as the holder of time,
space and time clean backstabs as you fist **** of every trip traps as a pristinely dreamed beings pretending underneath when all you are now are on top of every wonder **** if ever reupping the true as if you know what i am in reality before intercedence death cuz it was truly me: like reality this is all future to all your poetry actual renders a blank gaze of mine of wisdom as you write your blank page is actually what aim range explains space to what blank faced truly is at fake takes of what you've stolen in actuality reality owned envisions of me
like enlivenment only just visions creates in actuality ranks raised none enlivens but make ways as a holder of time ever remembers me none as the entity's won actual remembrance of me: lonesome to none to truthful beings who reject truth in reality was really ever to gain none sight to minest right ever to wrong surity might right sight.
i own **** what you are: like all small things in my stature of nature lived as holder of everything comes to pass, your only fault is visions of perfection in education given back to your ***. I'LL WAIT *******.....
Waverly Mar 2012
when me an Gnat split
we kept our eyes open,
cause we could close them,
behind blindness,
and I could take her soul
for nothing,
and I could keep it forever,
so now what we do,
is set fire to those
in the same situation,
we put their hearts
on our grills,
and tell them to wait
until they have regained
the fire,
so then,
society wasn't ready
for the realest ****** alive,
becuase by then
society
had told them
that ******,
emos,
true-*** emos,
them *******
could just drop
everything
to keep you on the low-low,
and they were the realest
I ever knew.
"Oedipal-*** sons of *******!"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A9BMcA8-4zo
Shelby Hemstock Aug 2013
"Dude, we're going to a burn this weekend and none of us have a car, will you take us?

"Sure, if you pay for my expenses."

And thats how I went to my first burn,
Freezer Burn, in the dead of winter, outside of Austin, Texas
So icy polar bears wear parkas and penguins wear pea coats
In the same essence of Burning Man
Just on a much much smaller scale
Located down a gravel road
Tucked away deep in the woods, miles away from civilization
Where primeval screams go unnoticed and the people go unkempt
No one to impress, everything is everything
The effigy made of wood, a colossal abominable snow man
Which would later be burned in a blaze of glory
Accompanied by fireworks, fire spitters and fire spinners galore
There were drum jams, free spirited belly dancers, and herds of hula hoops
The name of our camp site was "Goonsville"
I kept mistakingly referring to it as "Ghoul Town"
There were a lot of other camp sites,
We bordered "Camp Glue **** Together"
And "Tribe Named Search"
The first night was bone chilling
I had no gloves and all I had to soften my brain was cold cold beer
Sitting next to the fire was all we had to stay warm,
But we didn't have a fire
So we walked fire to fire, auditing camp sites
Greeting strangers with hugs and beers offered
A stranger with a beard walked up to us
Holding a bottle of whiskey
He extended it my way, no words, just whiskey
He wore soft toes boots, worn out bell bottom jeans
Yellow sunglasses and a red beanie, it was night
We were friends immediately
Being in a place like this makes you free
If you had the curiosity to come to a burn
Then you were automatically excepted as a friend, all equal
My friend Sam even called him cutie to which he responded,
"I'll be by your tent later tonight"
If gay jokes are in the air,
You're in the company of friends

My notes tend to trail off there,
I kept getting fed psychedelics
Teddy Grahams dosed with sunshine acid
The fungus was among us
I snorted a grain of something off a tooth pick and
The stars came together like a connect the dots worksheet
After that everything became a memory within a kaleidoscope
All I have written are quotes from passing strangers

"It's essencial to bring a beach ball if you want to have fun"

"When I let go its like Cleopatra letting her snakes loose"

"I woke up at 8am and had my first psychedelic sandwich of the day"

"**** buying ****, you don't have to do that, it's just an illusion"

"It's best to be sleep deprived when you take LSD, it enhances the trip"

"You can't occupy that space because it's occupied by my spirit"

"Whats the purpose of number 42?"

"You'll have to excuse me I just got this guitar from a pawn shop the other day, mind if I bust a tune on ya real quick?"

"******* beatin' on drums and drinkin' beer! Hell yes!"

"This is a good first burn man, not too many people, just real chill"

Andrew, Ben, Chris, Collin, Frank, Greg, Justin, Olive, Sam, Travis
Freaks, Friends
Freezer Burn January 14th, 2012

— The End —