"nitty" poems
Guess what day it is
That's right! It's Sunday!
That fun day of the week
That's very very unique
I can finally let my lustful fantasies loose
Basically today I can be a freak.
So let's down to the nitty gritty
What shall I lick first? Lips or T-ties?
Shall I kiss you gently? Teasing you all the while?
Or shall we jump to the chase
And we make love while you're wetter than the Nile?
What position first? Missionary or doggy style?
Or maybe something crazy
We haven't done this in awhile
Or maybe we can take notes
From a book called the Kama Sutra
Believe me, there's a lot of ways I wanna do ya
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 8:47 PM UTC
The rusted belt is tight
in our hometown city.
Black smoke masks the lights
In one gaseous setting;
the permenant fitting
Of our hometown city
Trees exchange steel
In our hometown city.
You’ve never seen the wheels
churn and the deals burnt
In the factories that take pity
On the nitty-gritty of our
Own hometown city.
The last laughs with us
In our hometown city
We don’t’ ride the Cali bus,
But yea, I'd say we are witty,
cause al'the prettiest girls
Live in our hometown city.
The river’s been burnt
In our hometown city.
Yea we’ve learned a lot
From our own ad(e)missions;
And now, clinics fill prescriptions
in ourown hometown city
In my own hometown city
We’re slicker than you,
Even though our York’s isn’t new…
Why? Watch my city revive in
Front of your eyes- then ask me;
Why is this your hometown city?
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 3:04 AM UTC
There is a certain romance of incomplete stories
and unrequited passion....
A certain heroism , in unfulfilled ambitions and sacrificed wants ...
(There is also
Selfishness in altruism,
Mockery in humility...
Fragility of pretenses,
Deception of senses,
Armors of sensitivities...
all those nitty gritties,
paradoxes that haunt
etc, but then...)
Sometimes this happens,
love stays and we go.
Sometimes this happens,
there is no beginning, nor end:
through “ifs” and “buts”
priorities distend
the space between, what is seen and what has been.
I picked your hopes with my eyelashes
and thatched together a shade for us
You caught my fall in the web of your thoughts,
softening for me, the landing, and thus,
we built a dream.
Sometimes this happens
the stars are buried in the desert sands
the lines dissect though you’re holding hands
but for the heart that understands....
it’s all divine. Not yours nor mine.
Sometimes this happens
one understands, but it’s not enough
one knows, but accepting is still pretty rough
You may have all ingredients
but you still need a “here” and a “now”
no question of why? or what? or how...
Sometimes this happens
the wait becomes unbearable
so remember that you know....
time is deceptive
and it’s already tomorrow in Tokyo
Arshia.
Nov 26/27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 2:17 AM UTC
Love is beautiful
Patience and kind
Movie star kisses
Making passionate love
Paints a pretty picture
But lets get down to the nitty gritty
*** is ******* good
Rough and passionate
But the next day can be filled with regret
The next ******* day is plan b
And why don't people *** after *** on the television?
Thats a urinary tract infection waiting to happen
Or yeast infection
What the televison doesn't t tell you
you can get hpv with a ****** on
Hpv leads to cancer
(but not all strands- you still got hope)
maybe a chance you already have hpv
Because almost every sexually active person will have it at one point in their life
What the television doesnt tell you
after **** some girls will have to take a huge ****
And most girls don't like ****
It hurts every ******* time
What the television doesn't tell you
how to use proper protection
That you can be rubbed raw
Get a hernia during ***
Sometimes its pretty ******* bad ***
Its not pretty
It can be awkward
It can be silly
and you do not need to act ****
What the telly doesn't tell you
Is how it doesn't matter about the age you loose it but when you have the emotional intelligence to go through with it
Even then you do not know that you have opened Pandora's box
You do not know what you think you know
The specialist are still figuring out ****** hygiene
So the next time you watch the television and you see the **** stars or teen lovers
It is not so easy
*** is complicated
But can be good and worth it with the right person
No matter what age or relation
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 3:30 AM UTC
In the narrowest of lanes
I found the sweet shop.
Behind dusty crumbling glasses
dozed the old keeper
smelling of sugar, milk and sweat
over fossils of Paleolithic sweets
on a time machine from the century
he never was
to a millennium he doesn't bother about
clinging onto clay by pottery
not succumbing to synthetic
counting not on android
but accounting on parchment
with the art of finger's arithmetic
most intricately scribbled with pencil
announcing progress is a trouble
not designed for the simple
and contentment has no more nitty-gritty
than price and quantity.
Over his head
spiders worked and reworked
from the ceiling to the glass
as have been doing
since Carboniferous.
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 9:04 AM UTC
We are Manchester. The City, The place, we’re hospitable people with a smile on our face. You can beat us, mistreat us, and blow us to hell. We have had it all before and we don’t dwell. We’re the northern powerhouse of the northwestern elite, Where the Geordie's, The Scousers, The Yorkshire’s retreat. The premier League, The Roses Cricket, The Heineken Cup Is a one way ticket. United and City two football teams with stadiums full, bursting at the seams.
We are Mancunians Of this fair City, The People, The Love, The old nitty gritty The worker, The Shirker, The Homeless, The immigrants, each one of these they are all itinerants. The Steel, The Cotton, long since forgotten the old smokey chimneys blew out smoke that was rotten. The Massacre at Peterloo. Local politicians just don’t have a clue. With all the sights this city has on show here’s something that people don’t really know. Manchester is where New Zealand Born Ernest Rutherford split the Atom.
We Are Manchester, The City, the Place, where Sir Humphrey Chetham has his musical grace a school of music with musical taste. And where a man with a paintbrush painted streets on boxes. I don’t think Lowry ever painted foxes. And A comedian from Collyhurst who was absolutely awesome, a real funny guy by the name of Les Dawson, and where a man from Chorlton on Medlock became Prime Minister back in the day. David Lloyd-George had a hell of a lot to say.
We Are Manchester and it's the place for me. And a proud Mancunian I’m glad to be. I’ll sit in a cafe watching people pass by. They are all in a hurry and I wonder why. I see a business man in a three piece suit, and the homeless guy that is counting his loot. There's the girl on the street giving out free papers she is smoking those ciggies that give off those vapours. It's pouring with rain and she’s getting wet she’s worried about money to pay off her debt.
We Are Manchester and this is our City don’t waste your time we don’t want no pity. We are Manchester we are steeped in tradition we leave other cities standing. There’s no competition. Where A man from Moss Side a Vicar not a Dean called Rev George Garrett invented the submarine. And where the great Anthony Wilson was a journalist & impresario and a man named John Nichols invented the great drink called Vimto. and so When he wrote “This Is the Place” I’m sure he did so with a smile on his face. We Are Manchester and I’ll state our case because we are Manchester and we are ace.
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 9:45 PM UTC
In the nitty gritty of the city where details bog you down and you frown at the rats,wonder where are the cats and you need to get out of this town.
There's a light in the dark somewhere where the cars park but it's just some young lovers who are out for a lark and then there's no light at all as you fall into a sleep,some place above in your dreams angels weep,
you toss and you turn,wonder how you can earn just a crust,
life's a binge and a bust and we all end as dust,
swept up in the city
with the nitty and gritty and ain't it a pity
that nobody sees.
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 3:31 PM UTC
A bullfrog serenades his mate
With a booming baritone in anticipation to conjugate
Whilst the wind hums softly
Dry leaves rustling incessantly.
Within the vicinity, bees buzz
The air abuzz
With beautiful chirpings from birds
Visiting colorful flowers and buds
For nectaries
Nature’s nitty gritty pleasantries
The wind croons in a haphazard harmony
A bearable monotony
Of sorts
All these are exclusive happenings in exotic resorts.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 3:12 AM UTC
I'm not saying
that this is how it is
But,
In all my years of school
the one thing I've been taught
Again
and
Again
...
is the American Revolutionary war
Which makes sense
since,
it was technically the official formation
of the country I currently live in
But really,
In 10th grade
I'm having deja-vu back
to fourth grade
when we even had a musical
about it
(I was student #2 by the way)
And now
we have the Broadway musical Alexander Hamilton
which,
I am TOTALLY a fan of
Despite
the numerous reoccurring themes
I've had stuck in my face
enough to remember
for the
rest
of
my
lifeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
...
Okaaay,
So, Revolutionary War:
...
...
...
AftertheFrenchandIndianwarBritianwasindebtsotheytriedtaxingthecollonieswhichthecolloniesweretotallyagainst.Miscommunication(allthewayacrossthesea)alongwithotherthingsincludingphrasessuchas"notaxationwithoutrepresentation"werethrownaround.EventuallyitjustblewupintotheactualwarwhichAmericaendedupwinningdespiteBritain'ssuperiorarmyandinthenAmericawasleftwithamessofstatestanddisagreeablefoundingfatherstocometoaconsensusandfiguresomethingout.
Okay, I don't know if you actually
got anything from that
but basically
it was a rushed (sort of) summaryish
of the American Revolutionary war
...
ish.
Well, I mean I've only learned
about it from one side
Anyway, by now I almost know the facts
we learn in school here
as well
as the back of my hand
...
which I don't know very well by the way
why do people even use that?
Anyway, it's not completely old material
that we're learning
because
now,
there's analyzing too
Just today we analyzed the differences
between
Federalists
and Anti-federalists
...
Okay,
you probably don't want the
nitty-gritty details
...
And that concludes my
(Strange)
tirade/(I can't really call it a tirade because it wasn't angry
so maybe narration?)
About history class
...
Hope this quirky
piece of writing
gave you a few smiles!
(Or if not confusion works too.)
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
It’s not unknown, I’m not perfect.
And I doubt I am the only suspect.
Yes, when it comes down to, I’m a little fat.
Take this stand with others; we can’t have any of that.
Down to the nitty gritty,
I’m not all that pretty.
And I guess when you start to think,
My words all come out in an eyes blink.
Apparently, I am much too straightforward.
It’s better than sullen, sour peevish and forward.
I’m told I'm much to cynical,
It’s not my pedestal, nor my pinnacle.
I’m definitely not that girl,
Who in her hair has that perfect curl?
But in all my imperfection, there is purity.
Just don’t make me call the security.
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 5:22 PM UTC
Just because a girl is pretty
they chain you to a freaking rock,
invite the tide to nibble? ******
way to treat a Princess, and mock
a future Galaxy! Oh, crap --
now what the hell is this? A monster,
seaweed dripping, snip-snap
jaws agape? How gauche! It wants to
ravish me? Take a number,
Frankenstein! Start at zero!
Oh, save me, Perseus, come on
future hubby, Action Hero!
Let's get down to the nitty-gritty!
Can't you see this girl is pretty?
Sep 6, 2011
Sep 6, 2011 at 12:21 PM UTC
The itty bitty city kitty
She thought she was the best
She thought she was so witty;
Much better than the rest.
The itty bitty city kitty
Begged to be put to the test
That’s the reason for this ditty
She felt there was no contest.
The itty bitty kitty
Runs home to her nest.
She hates the nitty gritty;
Her voice loudly expressed.
The itty bitty kitty
Will always request
Travis Tritt and Conway Twitty
For her country music zest.
The little bitty kitty
In the cold she wears a vest.
She never learned to knitty
Though we’d have been impressed.
The itty bitty kitty
Takes scorn as just a jest.
She doesn’t need your pity.
She’s on a kitty quest.
The little bitty kitty
Likes her covers messed.
It kind of makes her giddy.
Likes her comfort best.
Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 4:12 PM UTC
Lately I walked deep into a forest near my house,
as I often spend there my afternoons and nights,
thinking about what happened in my life
and which of my available paths should be taken,
to lead me into future.
That's when I encountered a strange message
scratched in the bark of an old oak:
"Dear wanderer, please beware, as your life is on the line.
My wife, a very farseeing woman, went into these woods alone,
against my will, of course, as I have seen the dangers she might face,
Wolfes, inviting her nitty-gritty to a delicious meal,
Bears, rubbing their chubby cheeks at her,
Snakes, weaving wildly around her feet,
but most dangerous of all the whacky wicked witch,
keeping her from ever going back."
I remember sudden feelings of anxiousness and shiver
I had encountered only once before,
that was when a strange man came to my house
asking me if I had seen a pretty woman
with snowwhite hair and pretty face:
"I tried to find her all day and night long,
but I couldn't find her anywhere,
I fear my wife got lost - or worse...
as a whacky wicked witch is living here!"
Lately I walked deep into a forest near my house,
as I often spend there my afternoons and nights,
thinking about what happened in my life
and who will be the next to come and visit
me and my whacky wicked house.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 9:56 AM UTC
Sitting upon the rock, brain burning
In that solitary land
There I fall between two stools
I think bright as a button
As any stretch of imagination
As gentle as a lamb
I guess lines
Figuring out the things
Getting down nitty gritty
But I faint dead away
No heads or tails
But I reconcile
Like martin Luther
Between black and white
I scratch remaining forehead
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 3:19 AM UTC
I owe you for giving me hope,
I owe you for giving me the opportunity,
I owe you for helping me to cope,
I owe you to perfect even the nitty-gritty!
You are life and I owe you mine!
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 11:11 AM UTC
a pretty face and she’s little waisted
a pretty place and a little wasted
tumble and tip into submission
stumble and slip into position
set all sweating systems to go
as emotions among other things grow
I’ll love you like you won’t believe
you’re the merchant and I’m the thieve
I’ve got a trick slid up inside this sleeve
trust me darling, I will not deceive
that’s just the way the story goes
when we remove our whorey clothes
and get right down unto the bone
the nitty gritty, the solid as stone
I want to get down to the heart of you
I want to feel every last part of you
I’ll love you like you won’t believe
you’re the merchant and I’m the thieve
I’ve got a trick slid up inside this sleeve
trust me darling, I will not deceive
I will not deceive, please believe
I will not deceive, you best believe
as long as we can receive and relieve
as long as we interweave every eve
darling I would never, could never leave
I will not deceive, I will not deceive
I’ll love you like you won’t believe
you’re the merchant and I’m the thieve
I’ve got a trick slid up inside this sleeve
trust me darling, I will not deceive
Sep 11, 2010
Sep 11, 2010 at 5:40 PM UTC
I want to love you when you are ugly
pretty sirens held in tightly to my ****** regulation
of foreign relations/ and transgressed poverty
yes I do
I scream it at the top of my voice my darling
let me love you when you are ugly
I want to linger in your most empty places
awfully.
let me kiss you when you are angry
shed the ill word tell me everything you think of me
and speak to me bluntly
my ears are sore with the pretty
depict me/ dissect me
get me down to my nitty gritty
let me love you when you are ugly
let me stain you with my eyes and fly you away from this country
wrap my arms around you and tell you that you don't need your family
there was a time when blindness hovered in shades of gray
with wings of dragons
and tongues of Shakespeare
latent driven on the hooks of youth and
almost prosperity
let me love you when you are ugly
I say these words knowing it is almost quite impossible
for in my eyes you are always lovely
Mar 29, 2011
Mar 29, 2011 at 1:29 PM UTC
They call us survivors
I call us leftovers
They tell us we're heroes and deserve better than the hand life dealt us.
They use us as examples of inspiration and make shiny metaphors out of our trauma.
But.
But they never look at you long enough to see that you flinch when they reach, with greedy hands, towards you because to look at you too long would mean seeing the hand wrapped around your throat.
They are never around long enough to know that panic sets in while you shower and scrub at your skin until it's raw and bruised.
Sticking around would mean knowing that you were touched by Poison Ivy and they've heard it's contagious!
They don't watch when you're seventeen and crying into his shoulder, asking him to tell you he loves you, just so you can sleep because that would mean that maybe..you aren't that heroic afterall.
If they got too close they would see that you aren't surviving so much as submitting to being alive.
They sit on the edge of their seats gobbling up details about your so-called courageous story, eating up the nitty-gritty details because they know it will end in some form of you rises from the ashes.
But YOU didn't know that you'd be rising from the ashes when he was lighting his match.
When you tell them, you're still in therapy learning to breathe and count to ten, they have to realize bandaids don't fix gaping wounds, so they stop listening, notice the crows feet and crooked teeth, and turn away because suddenly...you look like a victim
Dec 2, 2017
Dec 2, 2017 at 9:44 PM UTC
Talent was not worth it,
Until it turned into skill
Rise against the odds
To go in for the ****
Thought it was supposed to be silky smooth,
Thorns in a bed of roses lay still
Hate it for the un-nerving truth
Victory accompanied by a sunken face
And a broken tooth,
What once was
A mountain to climb,
Now within my reach
The peak of ascent
Toiling along the way
A threshold to breach,
A view so spectacular
I could live there forever
Alas, the only thing worse,
Than an incoming frown
Is the dream I was having
Of getting to the top
Without ever putting a foot down,
A ghost of perdition
A drunken semaphore of
Nihilistic fortitude
Scarring enough to even put
Any effort in the journey,
Thinking all I had was
What I ever needed.
Oct 3, 2022
Oct 3, 2022 at 3:55 PM UTC
So if poetry is a riddle, is love the key?
Do we subtract sadness?
Take away fear?
What about pain?
In this equation who gains?
Life's a never ending circle of questioning what comes next,
And I'm not sure
Because I've felt a feeling I can't quite keep a hold of,
And it slips from my fingers just as it slips from my mind
And in this crawlspace inside my head I've decided, that we're better off alive.
Despite the pain that grows,
The anger that flows through our veins I still believe that we are at the very least,
Human.
And that is a thing in and of itself, to be able to say that today, I am and therefor will be and therefore always will be because I believe it to be such,
And tomorrow, I think I'll love.
And maybe I'll find a reason to cry,
Or a reason to yell or a reason to scream or day dream.
And maybe, I'll write poetry,
A symphony of constructed thought like I was born into a world where nothing else matters,
And maybe you can too,
Maybe you can believe in things that break you,
Like the things that don't **** me make me strong
The things that I do wrong today I won't do wrong tomorrow,
I hope
And nobody is perfect, and nobody should try to be
But with a language as fluid, and universal as feeling?
Why restrict it to the grandest of all?
Let's get down to brass tacks,
The nitty gritty, let's find the dark spots so that the bright ones seem brighter
Let's fill the room with ***** things so that you don't worry so much about what's under your fingernails.
Let's find out how beautiful beauty can be but first, a little perspective
Let's live through these hard times so we know how much better things can get
Let's find out how many feelings you can feel in just a few short years,
Let's become the people we always dreamt of being, and true change seems to stem only from tragedy,
But let's embrace them,
Because all of these things?
Are what makes you, you.
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC
Veronica LaMonica
Played the harmonica
In our local high school band.
She collected japonica
She says it is a tonic
Attuned to a young lady’s hand.
She swears she is not picky
But avoids the ricky-ticky
And goes instead for the class.
She claims not to be picky
But avoids like a big hickey
Anything of plastic or brass.
Veronica LaMonica
Played the harmonica
In our local high school band.
She collected japonica
She says it is a tonic
Attuned to a young lady’s hand.
Veronica is the prettiest
Down to the nitty grittiest
Girl in the local school we both attend.
She’s not always wittiest
Rather hit and messiest,
But I’m glad at least she is my friend.
I’d like her to be more
That’s what this rhyme if for
To tell her she’s the best in the world.
She ’s the very highest floor,
The one have always adored,
She’s most artistically talented girl.
Veronica LaMonica
Played the harmonica
In our local high school band.
She collected japonica
She says it is a tonic
Attuned to a young lady’s hand.
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 6:50 PM UTC
**Tears through the
paper and
scours the mind raw**
Catherine Jarvis
(C) September 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 6:37 PM UTC
World War III was a pity
nuclear destruction
***** and Gomorrah
Babylon the last city
World war; IV, V,VI
skirmishes nitty-gritty
Reduced to rubble,
Land no longer pretty
Boulders and granite
Fire and ash trash
An Unrecognizable planet
Walk on mounds of broken glass
Each day, a little less men strive
Those who managed to survive
Irreversible travesty’s against God
Chanted by men to Stay alive.
Souls Reduced to Unspeakable things
To eat a human being is not as easy as it seems
Humanity in its primitive form Cannibalism
The bell tolls for thee” Dinner bell sings
What length would you go for your kids?
Looking in their hungry eyes first dibs
Carnal nature, tender young flesh
Hunger, starvation, soulless don’t confess
living off the flesh of
The belly of the beast
“Stab it with your stealing knife
But you just can’t **** the beast”
Mouth waters, a banquet feast
Life on the outside filled with decay
Losers never win they just fade away
False promised prayers nothing to say
One more gory battle fire the last mortar
War Ends with One World Order
Martial law rioters reject Curfew in affect
Government laws suspect,
Man fights to the end to defend
Freedom life liberty protect
BLT Webster’s word of the day challenge
March 13, 2025 CURFEW
Curfew refers to a law or order that requires people to be indoors after a certain time at night, as well as to the period of time when such an order or law is in effect it can also be used to refer to a time set by a parent or caregiver at which a child has to be back home after going out
The Phrase
“Never send to know for whom
The bell tolls; it for Thee”
Originated from John Donnie’s meditation 17
and means we are all connected, and the death of any person, even a stranger, is a loss to all of humanity, as we are all part of the same human experience
Ernest Hemingway use the phrase as the title of his novel “For whom the bell tolls”
The phrase can be used as a metaphor to emphasize the interconnectedness of
Humanity and the importance of caring about the events and people even those far away
Inspired song
Hotel California by the Eagles
Mar 13, 2025
Mar 13, 2025 at 8:40 PM UTC