"peeve" poems
I have procrastinated for months
To eventually write this poem today
Ironically, this time
The poem to be penned
Was meant to bring to an end
To my pet peeve of procrastination.
I thought my writing of it
Would be bring me face to face
[Oh, no. I am behind time and Procrastination is ahead of me.]
With procrastination.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
Social media companies
Swear it's you they want to please
They badly want for you to see
That they value privacy
And that there are several strictures
On who can see your posts and pictures.
You think your profile is secure
You're satisfied until you hear
That they sell your information
To advertising corporations.
Every post that you've spent time on
pictures, videos you had your eye on
They save it all for using later
And say "It's ONLY metadata!"
They as good as have a list
Of content that you can't resist
And knowing full well what you like
With custom ads they duly strike!
They desperately want you to keep scrolling
So they can see the money roll in.
And their ethics will be forfeited
So advertisers can be profited.
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 5:59 AM UTC
"I just can't even"
no you really ******* can
I pinky promise
that is is more than possible
for you to finish
your ******* sentence
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
I was an idiot back then,
those trips to Rebekah's hovel.
though they did make me sentimental,
for the days when her dad had taught me guitar
for eight weeks when I was thirteen.
she told me of a suicide dream
that utilized her iron deficiency.
I told her I would tell her parents
if she started pushing it in motion,
that made her cry,
though in retrospect, I wanted her to die.
I was at that misery factory age
when your heart pumps nothing
but razorblades and jealousy,
and the death of some overly-depressed
girl would at least give me a story to
tell.
I was a pseudo-lover,
writing page upon page
of poetry for Sheila,
I used an alias for her:
"Nature's Criminal".
It felt appropriate.
what she did to my
emotions seemed rather
unnatural.
we would kiss on dark, dirt roads,
and duck when cars would passby.
she would always preface
our encounters with,
"remember this doesn't mean anything."
now, Rebekah only writes to tell
of artists signed to Saddle Creek.
she got married to some diabetic,
acne-marred, sex-fiend that
bares the burden of a pet peeve
that revolves around bananas.
now, I only see Sheila,
when some boy is ********** her,
when she feels beyond used.
in her parasitic apartment,
I always remind her
they don't mean anything.
Dec 22, 2010
Dec 22, 2010 at 8:35 AM UTC
at your own peril!
*dare to vex
provoke, antagonize, exasperate
that is what my words will do
they won't irritate or annoy,
bug or merely peeve,
a simple bother
insufficient
vex
your core,
demand
that you more
than mere question yourself
but riptide extracts the
elemental,
battery acid on the essence bared
learn the power of crafting words
for maximum effect
torment, infuriate,
expose yourself,
what has lain beneath the skin,
you will let me in,
to let you out
why play with poetry,
the most dangerous weapon
unless you nakedly intend to*
!dare to vex!
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
Listen, I understand that being happy isn't all that artistic.
That loneliness, anger and self hatred are trendier
than being content.
Unrequited love, jealousy and deep-seeded unquenched desire
mathematically recorded in clever metaphor and
unexpected similes simply sell better than stanzas
sifting and shifting to shape a smile.
But writing is a form of expression, I can only mirror myself.
If only I could express to you fully how amazing it feels
to finally look into that mirror to see me completely
with every flaw, every blemish,
every pimple, every crazy strand of curly frizzy hair,
every tan line, every inch of stretch-marked blotchy skin,
every pet peeve, every tear, every inch of stubbornness,
every reckless thought, every word I've desperately written,
every choice I ever made and truly love every bit of it.
I imagine it feels like moving the ocean; I'm a shining beautiful moon.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 11:41 PM UTC
Whenever I get in a car I make sure the doors are locked
I do this because I like to lean against the window with my whole body
It's terrifying to think that the door could just fly open and I could fall out
Sometimes I make sure everyone's doors are locked
It's sort of a pet peeve of mine
Or maybe it's more of an anxiety
I climbed into the back seat of my dad's big red truck last night
I leaned against the door like I always do
But I didn't lock the door,
Actually I made sure it was unlocked
You could say I was waiting for something bad to happen
The truth is I wasn't waiting, I was wishing
Aug 16, 2012
Aug 16, 2012 at 11:44 AM UTC
A gnat did fly up my nose,
on purpose, I must suppose.
He set off a pet peeve,
as his wings made me sneeze
and I pee'd into my clothes.
Aug 4, 2010
Aug 4, 2010 at 1:10 PM UTC
The sun peaks from behind
Just to warmly say hi
I encourage myself to smile
And view the world without a sigh.
Let me observe what is right
And detach the wrong knit
Let me decide with supreme might
To avoid the doom pit.
Let me face obstacles without fear
And let my body steadily bear
Let me cure the wound with tears
And change the misconception of dear.
Let me enjoy my worldly life
But not abandoning the true divine
Let me kiss the moment that rife
To make my days stay shine
Let me live within the moment
Appreciating the oxygen given
Let me strive to be competent
In studies, in work and in romance.
Let me be the real me
Who is weak but love Lord
Don't judge, don't peeve
Cause I believe not only me is odd.
To live a life that is hella dificult
To be a girl of diamond worth
To ignore any kind of evil cult
To make my mark on Earth
I thank myself for these endeavour.
Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 11:02 PM UTC
so... it's no longer enough that
i learn your language,
into a p.s. of conversational
etiquette -
addressing the confrontational
assertion of the existence
of orthography,
minding your, Germanic,
metaphysical ********
and then...
i'm, supposed, to,
listen to your average citizen,
dictating rules,
like some sort of king?!
i'll drink a beer, walking
past the east ham central mosque...
and i'll be like:
getting the **** eyes ******
you stare -
in reply: you know what?
do it... **** it... do it...
make me a ******* martyr...
but i'm going to drink this beer,
feeding a solidarity of the 7/7 commuters...
hence my teasing...
once i'll burn scissors and
craft a tattoo on my arm...
once i'll put out a cigarette
on my left hand's knuckle...
the everyday englishman who "thinks"
he's king...
i'm thinking... plum hues
to replace mascara... with a *******
fist...
no... private property,
is private property...
now i'm gagging for a fist
frisking! i'm less trigger happy,
and more, european,
i.e. knuckles itchy!
i want to juggernaut something
down...
and then start biting into it!
any obnoxious englighman,
being a **** will satiated my
palette.
GNASH GNASH GNASH...
i want... a chance...
to scoop clean...
the "riddle" of meaty chicken
schnacks of drum-sticks...
fiddle fiddle, fiddle me something...
i want to engage in a 1, 2,
punch & bite something...
attempting to relieve itself
from physical confrontation,
having exhausted its verbal allowance.
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 10:03 PM UTC
I don't mean to anger or jar you,
But you've hit on a pet peeve of mine;
To answer your question, "How are you?",
I'm required to say, "I'm just fine".
Dec 17, 2019
Dec 17, 2019 at 6:03 PM UTC
I dream of dogs
though I doubt they dream of me
or rabbits running across
a monochrome field
I presume
many things about the canine psyche:
an ancient wolf howling in their head
an inability to feel dread, and
the arrogance of cats,
their “pet” peeve
feigned feline ferocity
may bother them not one whit
nor do they likely give a **** what stirs
in my primordial cerebral soup, when I scratch
their ears, and vainly imagine their fears
of the dead dark, are the same
as ours
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
and I loved it...
the efficacy,
the efficiency,
obeying, used,
the being used
to muse,
all in one word,
verbed and j'accused,
identifying the culpritess
(for my M-use is
definitively a woman),
I say:
Please baby,
Please bossy,
Please sir,
muse me some more?
M-use me, use-me,
accuse-me, heck,
abuse-me,
my tongue, my lips,
(especially, my lips)
your devoted
poet-servant.
give me spiel,
words to make
them laugh,
groan and squeal,
do me baby,
one mo' time,
the big reveal.
you know I am
exclusive to you,
others get my body,
but only you
get my
my poetic
streams of screams
things I can
never confess,
peeve but at the hinted
whisper of them,
things that weaken me,
in the places
where poems
umbilically
die stillborn,
the chord
connecting
just us two,
it, that chord,
wrapped round
my throat
choking off
my special voice,
cause you want
just those words,
My Muse,
all for yourself
and I can't say no
to
My Muse,
My Conscience
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
You get off work on a Friday eve
The backed up traffic is your pet peeve
You stop off at the local bar
Run into friends as you park your car
You drink import on American dream
Hey there's Mary , ain't she a scream
Someone slips you some super daze
Your out of it for a month of days
You dance now with every smile
Got you running fifteen miles
Long ago you heard last call
On the way out you stumble and fall
Passed out inside your car
Wake up behind the bars
Gee you think it was so much fun
Cain't wait till the next week's done
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
I've come to the conclusion
I am two parts of a whole
you may look at the glass half empty
or half full
sometimes it's really hard to tell
but call me a Gemini , if you will
behind closed doors
I'm either high
or low
one minute I'm soaring
& the next on the floor
one half of me
battles depression & anxiety
my thoughts are scattered inconsistently
my heart pounds in my chest
the minute you speak my name
just know I'm doing my best
trying not to go insane
other days I'm free
gliding thru the breeze
of my life
energetically speaking
the sun dances around me
against my face, glistening
but I seldom wonder
the thin wall that divides me
if I should ever sunder
two halves of a broken heart
searching for the glue that once held them part
Gemini's are twins
such like, good and evil
an angel and a demon
dancing on my shoulders
dragging me farther and farther away
so in the eyes of the beholder
I sense the middle becoming yet much colder
judgment is given on the evil side of me
I'm distant , I admit it
at times , fairly resistant
a poor trait one must receive
nothing more than a peeve
alas I did not select this trait
nor must I choose to accept it
my slump has taken its toll
I do not wish to see anything as it is but dull
I may be present and alive
yet inside, negatively drains my mind
I pray that good outweighs the unfavorable
that you may overlook how I'm unstable
my bright eyes & tinted cheeks
how I simply ignore my urge to be weak
for in that one moment
I've experienced a whole heartbeat
ultimately, there is no escaping
no path could lead me elsewhere away from thee
no debating
I am not one but two parts of a whole
one day I hope I am in control
Gemini
the twins
its me
& I am them
Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 7:52 PM UTC
Skins in contact,
sweat pouring from your hair.
You pump it harder this time,
demonic is your glare.
Arrest me,
undress me,
caress me,
only then you'll set me free.
Give me what I plead,
anything that would cause me to bleed.
At the back or in front,
I don't want no pet peeve.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 5:48 AM UTC
It's five a.m. I am dawn over, yet again..
I am the water I drink, the food I eat, the air I breathe, the sleep I sleep, the music I hear, the people I see, the places I go, the content I read, the player in my games, the epitome of lame, the disorder I blame, the weeping I wax & wane;
Chaos in a flame
I am the cigarettes I smoke brand name, unruly & untamed, the pride that I coincide with not having shame in who I am, the crazy in my eyes, my daughter's surprise, my fear's accomplice, my mother's only child;
What's worse, I'm wild
My father's little girl, my hair when I twist, & decide to give it a curl, I am five feet, seven inches short, I am a case to dispute, I do mind trivial pursuit, I am the upchuck I hurled, when I found myself among this world, I am dawned before sunset, I am still susceptible to surprise, I have blue/green eyes, I still can't see why god loves ugly, I am critique in concrete, on this couch I have a seat, three cats;
All lying around above below or beside me
I am beside myself, I need mental health, I scream with my mouth, still no one hears me out, I am down & about it, I gave up long ago, I am wishy washy windy, I cry tears laden with doubt, I too often have something that I worry about, I have been spread too thin;
I am disheartened on a whim
I am a cracked *** I am a blossom out of stock, I am a non smoking **** I don't get blown away like the leaves, I have skin that needs to breathe, I left my body because it's a pet peeve, I shed hair in long strands;
I am overthinking needing a weeve
I am punch drunk, I need sleep like I never slept, my pillows head away, I swept them up, put them down for a rainy day, yes I am a classifiable clown, I make path my own way, If only the right hook is in town, I am able to smile at my frown;
B E C A U S E I L O V E T H E E D E E P D O W N
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 6:57 AM UTC
The feelings are there
The words won't come
It's like some kind of writers block.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 10:32 AM UTC
Gazing into nothing
With my ghastly swollen eyes
Amazed I'm so emotional
And that takes me by surprise
Tired of being crowded
With people and my thoughts
I sneak into the shadows
And try to unscramble your retorts
At no given moment
Was I aware of the pain
Until I was alone once more
And reunited with disdain
It's the feeling of grey
A vision blurred with a cloud
A taste so greatly rotten
A silent scream, unplugged, aloud
As I melt into reality
The figure is much more clear
Much more potent to my memory
So ugly as it starts to veer
I don't know what to do with it
So I poke it and conceive
It's something I can get past
Just a time wasting little peeve
Jul 7, 2012
Jul 7, 2012 at 11:58 AM UTC
I am a tollerant girl
well sort of
I don't mind who you hang out with
Well i do but i wont stop you unless it will hurt you
So why do you have to lie?
Why do you have to lie
when i never lied to you?
Do i intimidate you?
Your one of my best friends
So why do you lie
Its my biggest pet peeve
Something i hate
ITS THE WOrst thing you could to me
You are one of my best friends
and lucky to still be one
Apr 26, 2010
Apr 26, 2010 at 3:02 PM UTC
And until now, I hate the sound of the door slamming against the wall because it reminds me how easily a person can leave without coming back at all.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 5:23 AM UTC
Light vs. Dark
The most cliché idea ever.
Light is good.
Dark is bad.
People who are afraid of questioning love it.
It's all Black and white.
I'm sorry, but it just can't be true.
There wouldn't be dark without light and light without dark
So if light exists because of dark and dark exists because of light, they create each other, depend on each other.
So how can light be completely good and dark be completely bad?
Another point.
Humans are often afraid. We like knowledge and instead of being in awe of it, we fear the things we don't know, can't see, hear, taste, feel, or touch.
We can see in the light, we can see what is in front of us.
That's why we think light is good, because we are not afraid.
Darkness, on the other hand,
Is scary for humans who depend on what's in front of them
but that doesn't mean it's bad.
We think up monsters and demons but in reality
there could be an angel watching over you in the dark.
It's so common for so many of us
If there is something we can't see, we go simply crazy.
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 12:35 AM UTC
Can a disease be a pet peeve?
This one can.
It has taken over my family and torn them apart.
It has grown inside of people I love,
Tormenting, restraining, and suppressing them.
It adds a higher level of suffering,
So that my bad days are comparatively fine.
My sufferings don't count
Their sufferings count too much, making them
Dangerous
I worry about the things they will do or say
I worry about their safety
I worry that they'll always feel this way
I can never escape this disease inside of people around me
I will forever have to be the strong one
The one holding it together, so they can fall apart
What happens, if I fall apart?
I feel alone, and afraid
All because of some stupid disease.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 6:35 PM UTC
Social media companies
Swear it's you they want to please
They badly want for you to see
That they value privacy
And that there are several strictures
On who can see your posts and pictures.
You think your profile is secure
You're satisfied until you hear
That they sell your information
To advertising corporations.
Every post that you've spent time on
pictures, videos you had your eye on
They save it all for using later
And say "It's ONLY metadata!"
They as good as have a list
Of content that you can't resist
And knowing full well what you like
With custom ads they duly strike!
They desperately want you to keep scrolling
So they can see the money roll in.
And their ethics will be forfeited
So advertisers can be profited.
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 7:58 AM UTC
When you gonna put my separate selves together
When you gonna make my disparate children gather
Such a silly mind, say the opposite of what you really mean
Just to get a rise, wanna make me rise to the wrong occasion
M-M-M-M My Pleroma
My Pleroma strikes a mystic chord of memory
Better angels spark a dream, get the better of me
Nature takes hold, goes bold, breaks cold sweats we wake up from
Scatter brained by upside two-by-fours keep score struck dumb
Gotta fill it up, fill it up with cuisine
Gotta take a pill, **** it! (Know what I mean?)
Big pet peeve bug drives a crazy fix-it man sane
Till the time ticks past the track, misses the train
Gets back to the place to where we once belonged
Waterloo derailed, revolution curtailed, narrative sing-songed
Everyone repeat after me: Eat a great meal, feel good with friends
Put your arms around loved ones, make means meet ends
M-M-M-M My Pleroma
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 12:15 AM UTC