"ovo" poems
Backstage Drake show,
don’t know how I got here,
heart beats ********
feel every feeling except fear,
at Drake’s last show,
of The Boy Meets World Tour,
backstage without a backstage pass,
how the heck did I get here?
Life so blessed,
there’s no need for a backstage pass,
always All Access,
no matter where on this atlas,
facts facts facts,
everybody misbehaving,
no one knows how to act,
on our worst behavior,
wish we could bring **** Back,
actually,
can barely believe we exist,
and all of the quotes I wrote,
are starting to sound like a To Do List,
my God what type of life is this,
in first place,
which wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place,
how the Hell did I end up,
backstage at a show hosted by Drake,
how’d I get picked for first place VIP,
when I wasn’t even close to being a First Round Draft Pick,
how can I live a life so viciously victorious,
at the same time terribly tragic,
I don’t know,
just know it all happened like magic,
like that’s it,
like going from being an anonymous to an A-List actress,
beats bumping heart pumping,
sold my heart but kept my soul intact,
and if want a seat at the table,
all you have to do is ask,
go ahead,
let’s make this a conversation
but if you run your mouth too long,
I might start running out of patience,
and then you’ll lose your chance and your placement,
just saying,
just finished another world tour,
Boy Meets World 2017,
on this wild ride like a rodeo with OVO,
only one word to describe this and that’s “Amazing.”,
backstage Drake show,
don’t know how I got here,
heart beats ********
feel everything except fear,
at Drake’s last show,
of The Boy Meets World Tour,
backstage without a backstage pass,
how the heck did I get here?…
∆ Aaron LaLux ∆
new book HERE: www.amazon.com/dp/1721134158
Or message me directly and I'll send it to you for FREE.
∆
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
This strange egg you've incubated
has sprouted skinny chicken legs.
It follows you around clucking at
every throaty word you nasty-utter.
Pointing and pecking at your guilt
borne by some years ago sin which
all others hatch from and you keep feeding,
Remorseful grains of misdeed shell grit
to harden its anxious green shell.
With no law outside itself the taint faint
heartbeat of your reproof I hear beating
like fear's unglued false eyelashes
You soft swaddle it with empty gestures.
It gestates in every grimace of piety.
I watch it govern your vocation of drab
and undramatic mastery of feathered illusion.
I want to tear shreds in your black satin cape,
To avalanche your fears into frosty exile.
Burn them screaming in the blinding white of
anemic unconscious,
the blacking out.
Hang a trophy **** of your winged demon
taxidermied with glass eyes above my bed.
My compass needle has lost your polarity
there's just a crude representation of pain
I will plant this seed you gave me, in Lethe;
The River of Forgetfulness on its grey shore.
A watery landscape without vanishing point.
Where a white heron will weep tears of sorrow,
like a human to feed hope's tender shoots.
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 4:31 AM UTC
lead me far from the mainland:
i have need no more for their custom.
gore these umbilical cords i share:
i no longer need their worldview,
i have forsaken them
they have, me
writhing akrobatics!
i whip my flagellated tail
and prance defiantly
into the danger zone,
where the crispness leeches
onto my body
and i shudder in view
of the sincerity i have
forsaken for this
my life has terribly been choked,
ab ovo
in principio,
nothing, was i, but a mere ghost.
caged-in oneirataxia:
i cannot distinguish
( i was a saddened victim of kalopsia )
these prefab worlds:
one, real
the other, an illusion
my life has captured me and
coerced me - prisoner
with blackened post 'round my neck
wrenching exposure
and blemish me.
but there,
there is a light
past corridor's end
and i see it, theoretically,
finally
and i remember the one good thing
to come from Pandora's folly:
hope.
i no longer need their choices
which have guided me past with harm
i can fight alone without their armor
which never did fit right, to start
rummaging for the undertow
in this ocean
to take me far from home
where i am embraced
by my prime
their volition:
no more
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 6:22 PM UTC
Ljudi, hej ljudi, čiji je ovo tužni pas !?
Gledajte samo kako se
šćućurio tu u uglu,
i kako se samo trese od hladnoće…
Ljudi, hej, pogledajte,
da neko od vas nije izgubio psa,
pogledajte, nije džukac,
gle samo kako mu se crna dlaka sjaji,
pogledajte,
pa to njemu suze idu.
Ljudi, deco,
čiji je ovo pas,
poslednji put pitam,
ako ga neko ne odnese na toplo, uginuće.
E, ako je tako, nosim ga ja svojoj kući.
Dođi kuco, dođi.
Tako…
Jao što su ti se smrzle šapice,
sad ću tebe ja odneti svojoj kućici,
to će ti biti novi dom,
imaćeš i šta da jedeš,
biće ti toplo i čuvaćemo jedan drugog.
Pa muško si, ček da vidim…
Pa jesi, jesi muško si…
E sad da te ušuškam u svoj kaput i idemo,
ček samo da uzmem maramicu
da ti obrišem te suzice,
jeste tako,
nema potrebe da plačeš više,
sad imaš svoj dom.
Samo da smislim kako da te zovem…
Samo da smislim…
Čupko !
E, zvaću te Čupko, mali moj…
Eto, obrisali smo suze,
samo još da ti obrišem tu penicu sa usta…
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
My name is Thomas de Charney
16 years old but rarely play
Father a humble Templar Knight
Pedigree noble bloodline might
Was born special is all I know
For God’s direction to and fro
Shield from danger ab ovo
Reason revealed from His glow
Broadsword and lance, reading abound
Practice and fight til victors crowned
Warrior and Monk seen as one
One and Only Begotten Son
Father taught me the skill to fight
Learn skill to read on parchment write
Knight Templar to be, but then what ?
Fate left to God with no rebut
Then one day Father came to me
Young Parsifal son you will be
Sequestrated as directed
Pushed to excel unaffected
Templar Knight who carries his sword
Doing God’s work for no reward
Beget with specific design
Some day made known I do consign
_______________________________________
Father, it’s time we practice, yes—deke the
wield of your sword and parry your blows, and
push myself until all the sweat has left my
body. For I am a young Parsifal soon to become
a Templar Knight.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
Usred noći nagon me probudi
Moram na WC na visokoj sam uzbudi
Svjetlo palit odlučio sam neću
No nasred hodnika suze mi poteću
Na kraju hodnika On tamo stoji
Zovem psa u pomoć on se ničega ne boji
Na poziv upomoć on se nije odozvao
Čak i i nakon obećanja keksa nije se pojavio
Sada ja i Slenderman smo ostali sami
Prokleti lik koji stanuje u tami
Zajebi ti ovo, pišat više nemoram
Sad svaki put iz sobe sjekiru furam
Pod plahte skrivao sam se uplačen
ovu avanturu ponovit ne želim
Opran paranojom sada ti kažem
Iz ove kuće se što prije selim
Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 7:44 AM UTC
కాలం అనే భాటలో కలహాలెన్నో ఉంటాయే . .
కష్టాలనే తలచుకుంటే కన్నీలే ఆగవులే
కన్నీలతో జీవితం కాదు మనకు స్వాగతం . .
కష్టాలను దాటుతూ సాగితేనే జీవితం . .
hovu ovu ovu ovo
కలహాలనే కట్టిపడేసి ముందుకు సాగే జీవితం . .
కుంచె పట్టి రంగులు చల్లే జీవితం . .
కళలకు రంగులను దిద్దే జీవితం . . .
సాహసమే ఊపిరిగా సాగిపోయే ఈ జీవితం .
hovu ovu hovu ovu. .
Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 1:01 PM UTC
o kamenu suvi kad u tebi
počne ovo razdanje da kuca
pogledaj i vidi gde mi se pogled gasi
željan
miris osmeha pogleda iskrenog
njenog
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
A clock tower chimes gracefully in the distance.
My time has ceased to exist long before I ever got the chance to see it, I've missed it.
The virtues that I long for dwell not in this forsaken world.
No longer will a boy grow tall and strong.
Now he will complain of the strain and pain inflicted by the selfish souls that pre existed.
My time has came and went, but I seem to have missed it.
I'm a killer, blood red. Heart filled with confusion and body disillusioned.
Blood in blood out, this is the life I chose and I don't care whether you think its right or wrong.
I spend my nights out, but don't be scared, theres nothing to fear.
Into this world we're born, and in this world we'll die.
Family will cry, but not a tear in this eye for I have seen the dream so many of you claim to be the ambition for fame, torn and burned.
Scorched are the bodies of lust and deception that neglect to respect my ethic.
Don't test it just accept it my dear.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 5:06 AM UTC
][
|I had it.|
(I've)
Glorious
(had)
Implore me
(it.)
There was something
[70x7]
There was.
Something in the water
Holy mountain
Uproot and walk
[Something in the water]
Blue dream
Apparently smokeable
Kush life
Kush type
(Never smoked a day in my time.)
Box this.
Seriously,
Print it
Box it.
I could try and draw lines
Just send it to me.
[There's]
[something]
[]
Look closer
Assuredly
-OVO-
Ever over Ever
There was a point here
As there was over there
And if you connect them
There's a picture
Hint:[elephant]
The point of this poem is that it means nothing
but everything in it means something at some point.
Long lines
#dealwithit
I just need some shades
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 10:51 PM UTC
Little Agnes sits alone hugging beloved teddy tight.
The lights have gone, the sun long since fallen.
The sickly odors fill the room.
Creaking floorboards, the foundation settles,
the howling wind and tapping branches.
A shudder deep traces her spine.
Mommy had gone away again. Off to work she claims.
Agnes knows the truth, one she mustn't share.
She knows more than she ought, costing precious sleep.
The minutes drag on, each an hour long
whispers of her mind growing stronger.
The words have formed, now to invoke.
Majka živi, majka saznaje.
Ovo je igra koju neću igrati.
Round and round, Agnes chants.
Again and again the words repeat.
Echos shake the walls; rattle her soul.
Precious child, corrupted now.
Mr. Teddy begins to grow.
Eyes glow crimson, fangs sharpened.
Ears pull back as rumble becomes growl
Teddy will keep her safe, at the peril of those who would disagree.
The door **** turns, creaking hinges
announcing mommy's return.
She calls for little Agnes, summoning to her side.
Tonight Agnes does not respond, does not come.
Holler again to no avail, mommy begins to search.
Down the hallway, second on the right.
Reach for the handle that meets with mommy's hip
as the door bursts to splinters.
Mr. Teddy is on duty, mommy screams amidst the fangs and claws
ripping at the flesh.
Pain and terror overcome as she gazes past her demise, little Agnes sitting there with her baby blue eyes.
The last she will ever see as darkness overcomes.
The pain fades, the sounds lost, farther and farther into eternal night.
Mommy breaths no more.
Still Agnes sits, watching her guardian shrink back down.
His eyes dull, fangs recede,
Growl returns to rumble and fades altogether.
His job complete.
Slowly standing, precious Agnes crosses to the door.
She kneels next to mommy and pulls beloved teddy from her chest.
Back to the bed, holding teddy tight.
Agnes breathes a sigh of relief and calmly falls asleep.
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 12:31 AM UTC