"pitbull" poems
Fear hurts.
No matter how happy I am, there is always fear.
When it’s dark at night, there is fear.
Fear crawls underneath the blanket with your beating heart.
When you eat an ice cream cone, there is fear.
Fear slides onto your tongue, along with the sweet, frozen cream, and makes its way down your throat.
When you squeeze a pillow, fear will be there,
refusing to exit your mind.
Fear, why won’t you exit my mind?
It never leaves me..
But fear is what keeps you going everyday.
When you climb a great pine tree,
you feel glad, happy, strong, though never fearless
for fear’s there lurking in the needles right there with you.
When the sweetest pitbull licks your face with it’s oh so soft tongue,
you fear that it will leave you.
When your phone rings,
you fear of who it is.
Fear makes me fearless
When you play, you still fear.
You don’t even know what you fear but
fear is everywhere.
It doesn’t make sense.
Fear doesn’t make sense.
Fear is fear.
When fear comes along
Fear is your best friend
Fear makes me dance.
When you love something,
you fear that it will go away.
You fear of yourself.
You fear of the world.
Fear comes to make life harder,
to make you sad,
to make you scared,
but your heart is full of joy so you just sit at the kitchen table,
eating donuts with a side of fear.
You may love fear, you drink it like it’s coffee,
but you hate fear even more.
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 12:26 AM UTC
in the middle of nirvana, ashima wakes up
she doesn't know how she reached this sphere
full of silver lights and black silhouettes
everyone she knows seems to be present
greyly shimmering leaflets are floating
through the air, gently, like mist
and red fireflies are clapping their wings
the crowd of shadows is starting to sing:
"ashima, you have come a long way to us
we are the voices of nirvana, listen
nirvana is the deep core of your soul
the land of your most secret wishes
sometimes, in your dreams, you reach out
when you are waiting for a train and the
rays of the sun are reflecting your thoughts
you never find us but we know where you are
you may call us your wishes, we belong to you
as **** as branko and your mom do
are you the imitation of your dreams, ashima?
or do your dreams imitate you, our girl?
certainly, you will become the thing you dread
we know that you took revenge recently
when you were slashing the pedophile's throat
as his blood was slowly flowing into the sheets"
in the middle of her apartment, ashima wakes up
she becomes aware of a crinkled and dark leaflet
it is more than twenty years old, informing about
something that ashima can not read anymore
the letters on the leaflet have become dust
ashima is taking a deep breath and sighs
her pitbull branko is strolling towards her
his wet tongue, ashima thinks, feels cute
Jan 30, 2021
Jan 30, 2021 at 11:04 AM UTC
**** masterminds
steer clear of this man
He's relentless
a pitbull
Lumping up Pinkman
for no logical reason
He's a madman
Massacres Mexican
kingpins and button men
Knocks out Keith Jardine
in a barfight
initiated as a ptsd
relief valve
Maddog brothers
Axe murdering elite
eliminated with a bullet
a fender
and a little help from Gustavo Fring
The only man
to walk away unscathed
from the exploding head of Danny Trejo debacle
Houndog Hank
the sherman tank
is hot on Heisenbergs trail.
Its almost guaranteed
One of them will die
Heisenbergs Bad
But Schrader
is badass.
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 6:09 AM UTC
I feel mean and nasty.
I cuss out everyone I talk to behind their backs, saying
'That asshole!'
Or,
'What a pussy!'
For no reason but that the caffeine wears me thin.
My only child-friend is Bubba the dog, who gives me those eyes,
'I've never tried watermelon before, please Jilly can I try it!?'
And, of course I say yes.
Dogs love you even when their food comes late.
He's a pit bull. I feel someone of importance when I walk down the street with him, you know,
'Move it, coming through with my friend the tan pitbull with the sad eyes! We don't have all day! We have to eat watermelon!'
He lays in the sun and I think of things.
'Why is he afraid of water?
Why does he step so daintily over obstructions in his path?
What does he really think of those
cats he chases...does he want them to sit down and eat watermelon with us?'
I want someone to eat watermelon with us.
Danny is at work, and the sun is high in the powder blue backdrop it calls home.
We want a watermelon friend.
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 6:06 PM UTC
I want an ugly boy
so rough and tuff
don't care bout anythin but me
I want an ugly boy
he'll act as crazy as can be
crazy in love with me
maybe he zef
so I can be blessed
anything I need
he got it
anything I want
he got it
I want an ugly boy
my pitbull
my protector
I don't need to tame him
I like him how he is
he like me how I is
he likes that I am his
he don't need me to change
perfect to the letter
but I change anyway
for the better
I won't have to spend my nights so cold
in fear of growing old
he'll drink my tears
for they're tears of joy
all I really want
is an ugly boy
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
March comes like a punching bag
March will bring her smiles like plastic bags
Some tear some don’t
You never know when she will glare her teeth like razorblades and bleed the snow
from underneath these fingertips.
Leave my insulation soaked, me; feverish.
And the joke is, I saw this coming
shivering the melted ice out of me she
bares her grin like a warning sign,
and I was either too brave or dumb enough to step inside
like a welcome mat made out of ice
and a cartoon dog
A scared pitbull, and a woman in charge.
The joke is that haha
There is no joke, you walked in.,
and made one out of yourself.
Out of the frost on your eyelashes and grief on your fingernails.
haha get it,
sweat her out like the coldest fever, without dying of shock.
Get it now?
She brings back the taste of firewood and comfort of flames when you needed it the most
Punches like the best punchline
hard enough to make it hurt
not hard enough to make you forget
hahaha
Knocks the wind out of you.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
ashima abraham
teenage girl
needed love
desperately
she thought the reason for her
despair might been her longing
while her longing was nothing but
normal and the origin of her
despair might been
fear
one day she met an older guy
his name **** black he a
forensic officer
investigators like him look for
traces under dead body's fingernails
stuff like that
until ashima met **** her
love was exclusively reserved to
her pitbull
his name was branko
a fearsome creature
Nov 19, 2019
Nov 19, 2019 at 5:27 PM UTC
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
The smoking and drinking and snorting and fighting and drinking and crashes and drinking were not good for him.
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
One summer, when he was 16, everyday he would take a bottle of wine from his mother's liquor cabinet, buy a pack of cigarettes at the corner store, meet up with his friend Mario, who also stole a bottle of wine, and together they would ride down to the river and smoke and drink and swim. Everyday, for a full 1970's summer they did this.
And now he tells me, that at the time they were having fun and they were not worried about money or addictions or the future.
They were just having fun.
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
One day, in the dead of fall 1981, he and his friends Mario, Mark, ****** and John all got together at Mark's apartment on the corner of 51st and Diablo boulevard. They hit the town, drank, snuck into movie theatres, harassed girls and had a good time. They returned to Mark's apartment at 2 am and thought it a good idea to steal Mark's mom's new car. They decided to go to Reno.
Driving, as my dad put it, well above the speed limit on Highway 49, they collided head on with a big rig. There were no fatalities but my dad broke his shoulder and suffered a minor concussion. Mark's mom chose to not press charges nor did the driver of the big rig. The next day my father was back at work, refusing to adhere to the doctor's orders of taking it easy and wearing a soft cast, entrapping his left arm against his chest, climbing under cars, changing oil, and repairing engines.
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
One cold winter's day, in December of '82, my father's ever faithful companion, Mario, picked my father and his dog, Wimpy, up and they drove over to a small burger joint named Big A's. My father ordered two bacon cheeseburgers and a large rootbeer. Mario got the same, only with a single bacon cheeseburger. My father father gave his second bacon cheeseburger to his pitbull Wimpy.
My father was better to his dog than he was to his own body.
Now, my father coughs himself to sleep every night, and has chronic bronchitis. His liver and kidneys are shot and he plans to not live passed sixty. He will be turning fifty in two weeks.
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
Mellow Dramatic
is nice
But so is my
PITBULL
named
GYPSY
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 9:02 AM UTC
I just got home from work and driving through the sun rise after stopping at the gas station for cigarettes.
The pink lightbulb guides me up the steps to my apartment and I'm greeted by Sophie the pitbull,
she wiggles and runs happy to see me.
She's the first one into the bedroom when I open the door and as I change out of my work clothes I pet her and kiss her head, complimenting on how cute she is the whole time.
Then I light a candle, pack a bowl and go to Netflix in search of Bob Ross, The Joys of Painting.
On this episode he is painting a night scene in the forest.
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 6:39 AM UTC
The sky is bright on a Sunday afternoon
My neighbor steps outside
He's got his pitbull on a leash
And he's rocking a pair of bare feet
I'm lying in the grass
Inhaling menthol
And listening to the cars hurry past
His eyes narrow to protect themselves
from the burning sun
When he waves,
I just nod
We're friends
We're friends because we say hello
And we never ask questions...
We just kind of know
He hears me weep from the edge of my bed
I hear him scream at the stars
When he stumbles out into the night
Just two normal people
When the days are turning
And the public is watching,
But we know more about each other
Than anyone else ever will
Without even knowing each other's names
And so we give that omniscient smile,
Like
*"Hey I'm crazy too
We're gonna make it through"
And we do
My alcoholic, pitbull having neighbor & I
We make it through
And no one knows
And no one cares
But we've got each other
He waves
I nod
That's all*
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 1:29 PM UTC
Mellow Dramatic
is nice
But so is my
PITBULL
named
GYPSY
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 5:21 PM UTC
After My Little Black Dog Died of Melanoma.
After the Lumps on Her Small Brittle Body Slowly
Burned to a Pile of Ash in the Vet’s Office. After My Step-Father
Drove in His Ostentatious Truck to Pick Up Her Remains. After I Cried
in My Dorm Room and Tried Not to Wake My Roommate.
Realization that My Loss Does Not Make Me Different. There Are
Graveyards That Span For Miles and They Are Filled With More
Dead Bodies Than I Have Ever Seen. There Are Hundreds of
Thousands of Children in the Foster Care System That Have
Never Met Their Parents or Maybe They Did and it Just Didn’t Work Out.
Kids Who Might Have Lived With Their Terminally Ill Parent(s) For Years
Not Just Days. Kids Who Never Sat in the Opened Up Trunk of Their
Mother’s Black Nissan Pathfinder at the Drive-In Movies. Kids Who Lived Too Far From Their Too Old Grandparents or Who Lived Too Far From Their Too Dead Grandparents. Kids Who Were Never Told Not to Throw Snowballs Because There Might be Big Chunks of Ice in Them. Kids Who
Never Had a Childhood Dog to Cry Over. Kids Who
Don’t Like to Read Because They Were Never Read
Bedtime Stories When They Were Younger. Kids Whose
Mothers Never Called Them Tweetie or Pumpkin or Honey or ***
Kids That Were Not Told to Just Go to the Bathroom When
Their Tummies Hurt Instead of the Health Room. Kids Who Never
Listened to the Spice Girls’ Album Spice World on Cassette on the
Way to the Store. Kids Who Never Got a Peach Drink Out of a Vending Machine at the Pick’N’Save on 27th Street and Still Don’t Know
Exactly What 50¢ Peach Drink Their Mother Bought For Them.
There Are Thousands of Dogs Euthanized Each Day Because of
How Sick They Are or Because They Were at a Shelter For Far Too Long
or Because They Are a Pitbull or a Rottweiler or Some Other
Irrationally Feared and Disliked Dog Breed. We Didn’t Euthanize My
Stage-Four-Cancer-Stricken Dog or Even Get Her Treatment Beyond
Pain Medicine Because We Were Selfish. We Do a Lot of Things Because
We Are Selfish. We Waited Five Days to Pull the Plug on My Vegetable
Mother Because We Were Waiting For a Miracle That We Knew Would
Never Happen Because She Stopped Breathing the Moment the
Aneurysm Burst. My Sister is Getting Married in June and My
Grandfather is Going to Walk Her Down the Aisle in My Mother’s
Place. My Grandparents Had to Move In With My Sister After My
Grandmother Fell Down Too Many Times and Didn’t Take Her Health
Problems Serious Enough. There Are Repercussions For Thinking
You Are Safe When You Are Really Not.
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 10:18 PM UTC
Just **** off Nelly
and **** a fat **** Pitbull.
I want some Nick Drake.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 10:20 AM UTC
He's so sweaty tonight
His brown hair turns into tangled perspirated stuck to his cheeks
Stuck to his neck
He's screaming mercury in cancer
And he's like 10 years ago now
His hair is stuck to his neck
His long eyelashes really turn me on
His arm pits I wanna lick
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
Vader the black nosed pitbull
had a very lovely smile
and if you ever saw him
you would stare for quite awhile
All of the other pitbulls
laughed at him because of his size
they wanted nothing to do with him
but boy were they in for a surprise
Then one day in Bullhead City
a man gave Vader a home
They left the pound with joy in their hearts
and now Vader was no longer alone
Now Vader has a family
and they're all filled with glee
Vader the black nosed pitbull
is the best dog in history
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 1:21 PM UTC
I feel my head exploding,
splitting really,
into a thousand clouds of
silver.
An uncharted breakdown
that is so very familiar.
People should be held accountable for
the actions of others.
The pressure lessens its grip on
my spinal cord.
The musical adaptation of my life
blossoms before my very eyes.
Seen through a dream catcher
that is broken with
nightmares of fallen ancestors.
Please,
forgive me for rambling.
Words are hypnotic and
let me forget about
the ringing in my head.
A thousand decibels of silence,
shattered.
They are forgotten by society.
Forced to live in gangways with cockroaches and
the pages of old leather bound books.
They leave on
a wing and
a prayer.
Bathed in dust and dirt,
they hear the barking of the pitbull
inside my head.
Brought down by the blade.
I once observed a church being boarded up,
blocking out the elements and homeless.
It was calming.
Does that make me a horrible person?
Eerily beautiful.
I wish I could go back to that moment in time,
frozen in place.
My head explodes.
Can you hear the bell tower ringing Quasimodo?
Chimes louder than a bomb,
falling through the rotted out wood.
It's for the best.
The Horseman didn't need a head.
The silence will bring me back.
Remember,
our actions now
are our actions now.
Ring the bell!
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
When I looked into your brown eyes,
I knew it was love.
I knew I just had to bring you home,
Give you the love you never received,
Because all of the neglect
Abuse your former owners put you through.
When I bent down
And I stuck out my hand,
You were hesitant,
And just for a second
I saw something in your eye
Hope.
Hope that I would love you
And not neglect you
Disobey the stereotype the people have put on you,
That pit bulls are vicious
That you could possibly **** me with one bite,
But there is no chance of love
Without taking a chance.
So I brought you home,
And I worked with you
Showed you love
And in return you loved me.
We would go for runs,
Go for swims,
And not once did you try biting me,
Even when you were suffering
All the pain from when you got old,
So now I say to you,
"Run on
On into the wind
And be the dog you were suppose to be,
Because you will be miss
Every single day I breath."
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 1:31 PM UTC
Ok maybe the word wasn't treasure
But
Trust me you were better
Than what I've settled my anchor on
But who said the cap'n pleasure should be the first
To be grant upon?
No one
I just hope that one someone will understand
Sometimes a mustang needs to roam
And be alone but i have been to alone for too long
That letting go of the first love feels wrong
For fuck's sake i sound pathetic
like the stupid pitbull chasing its tail even though it never gets it
My feelings for you only were a trick to the dome of my headaches
The only difference is this actually helped serenade
Late night games
Turned
To late night discussions
Then
To late night calls
Then to late night video calls
To me you are as addicting as the last cigarette
But you wouldn't and couldn't let that happen
To let me in to your heart would be tragic
Right?
Or is that just a false accusation and suggestions?
You got from poems and story's
Just ask this question
"Do you REALLY want to be alone forever?"
And then you'll remember the love you felt for him
And yourself will answer that question
To me you'll always be at the back of my head
And at the front of my heart
Not even rejection will tear me apart
I wish i knew were this poem SHOULD end
My believing will probably never end
For the #1 thing you are is my best friend
F.C
P.s i mean it <3
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 3:33 AM UTC
Walking down a mournful street
In a heartbroken neighborhood
Wasted cement
The birds whispered nervously
The sun shined because
It has to
At the base of a sagging wood fence
I saw the paws of a pitbull
Digging frantically
Blood seeping into the mud
She paused to poke her snout
Through to the other side
I stopped and thought
You poor beast
The people and the wind
Are just as cruel
On this side
But I felt real foolish when
That dog broke free
Ripped a child from a mothers arms
Devoured it
In a bed of flowers
Then crawled back under its fence
While the sun kept shining
Because
It has to
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 12:32 PM UTC
the surprise attack
is always a great play
feigning love interest
like the pitbull never wags it's tail
all the time waiting for a fight
for no other reason
than to let it all go
Oct 12, 2019
Oct 12, 2019 at 6:02 AM UTC
When a bigot is caught redneck handed
He is in two minds
Fight or flight
fly away from his bigotry
No I am not racist
Fight for his bogotry
Did you watch birth of nation
What about darwin
**** darwin
When a bigot is caught redneck handed
Show her no mercy
Black child
A thousand fold his hammer blow
Has backed you into a corner
Bite like a soweto pitbull
Teeth in
Grab and lock
Then pull
Side to side
As you step back
Letting go only when a chuck of the bigot is off his bone
When a bigot is caught redneck handed
Ask him to show you an sos
We sent to his forefathers
Begging for their so called civilazation
Misseducation
Polutted minds
And twisted souls
We were fine without them
Content under african sky
True bohemians
When a bigot is caught redneck handed
Go for the jagular
Angle for his ghastly soul
Destroy it
Cause no exorcism will succeed
His hate
Too deep
His crime will remain a crime
For time to come.
When a bigot is caught redneck handed
Remind her
She is the real beast.
Jan 13, 2020
Jan 13, 2020 at 12:47 PM UTC
I’m coming out my coma like a Russian spy sleeper, and I be assassinating these ******* while wearing some fuzzy slippers. I’m a boss, I’m a goat, and if you got a problem with it, imma put my foot down your throat.
Racial profiling defined me, stereotypes and statistics shunned me.
**** my progress before I even start, I can’t even enjoy myself on a sunny day in the park.
All because I hit that racial profiling mark, for the white man only see’s me as a pitbull and aren’t willing to hear me talk,
for all they hear is a threatening bark.
Man that’s ruff!
Better Put em in cuffs!
Better yet put him down before he hurts someone, so I have no choice but to take out my guns.
Grew up with a disadvantage, grew up with traditional racist cultural norms that left me to fend for myself in this garbage. Plus drugs be flowing through my neighbour hood, and that’s the only way you make money and afford school and food.
So to survive I Gotta do what I gotta do, so why judge me ***** because if you were in my position what would you do? When you haven’t got a chance to prove yourself a winner for capitalism already has decided you to be a loser.
No safety net, nor is there a invisible hand to get ya out of debt.
Gotta fend for yourself in this world full of hyenas, and if there is a God out there why isn’t he defending us?
Hook:
Internalized designs,
Set up the designs that confine,
That blind us from seeing inside.
Can’t sleep when Im under the microscope.
Can’t speak when people in power have taken away my throat.
Verse 2:
With no one wanting to see things from my lens.
From my scope.
When no one wants to hear what I can lend to make amends.
As they just think I’m on dope.
But This is just the inter-scope of an insomniac.
The reason I can’t sleep.
The reason I’m deemed a freak.
The reason there’s a divide.
The reason why many commit suicide.
Because what’s the point of living,
If no one’s willing to listen to your side.
When no one is willing to acknowledge their privilege.
When it doesn’t matter if your indigenous and proud when society still sees you as a savage?
When your given a one way ticket to prison.
When in all honesty where else is there to go?
With most our language and culture lost and land stolen.
Government has taken away everything precious from us like golem.
And totem pole effects leaves us internally broken.
With everyone believing themselves to be the victim.
And never apart of what lead to the problem.
Hook:
Internalized designs,
Set up the designs that confine,
That blind us from seeing inside.
Can’t sleep when Im under the microscope.
Can’t speak when people in power have taken away my throat.
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 1:59 AM UTC
The day you went to the pound
All her fellow campers jumped up and tried catching your eye
She sat in the corner daring not to make a sound
Stoping at her door she let out a small cry
Sitting next to the older girl, you see it in her eyes
The pain of her past, hoping to be rid of it for good
The life she had was full of pain and lies
All her life she was misunderstood
Just for being a pitbull no one dared to touch
But now there you sit, showing her you care
At first she gets scared, her teeth may have clutched
Don't be afraid just because you hear you need to beware
She smells the grass outside your home
Her first look around, already scoping the couch for her new favourite bed
You show her the yard, the boundaries she may rome
She may be a little older but she has lots of life ahead
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC