"playpen" poems
The attention-grubbing *****
Will sit out on the floor
Waiting to be ****** by a
Siamese sock puppet duck
Its quirky little smile
Will show only for a while
Toothpaste soda and Hot Gin Sour
It's all up and about in a stour
Poor sodding toothless *****
Goes to playpen and dances around
Empirical to the idea'r of
the crowd wanting a ****
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:27 PM UTC
sauntry and sultry,
a fraudulent check written
in a moment of disclarity.
if you've got a bridge to sell
I'm buying.
I've got stakes on this land,
broken with till,
seeded with pain,
nourished with blood,
razed, salted, travesty, and sown again.
a faulty playpen snaps shut on a toddler,
a man trips over his Pekingese
and puts his hand in his brand new
20% off buy two get one blendtec
brand blender,
showering his mother in law
with shards of wrist bone
and strips of lacerated flesh.
this is my foot.
these are my fingers, broken,
distal, intermediate, and proximal
phalanges.
these are the carpal and metacarpals.
I am a Spartan of a shitshack.
I was trained in the wicked art of
long arduous bowel movements.
squeeze one out for the ones you love.
in some small musty room
in new York city
there is a cocknballs paying $200
to get ****** on
by a wombwalker
and thinking about his ******
Pekingese.
you know its true.
don't try to think too hard about it
or you might lose an eye.
Apr 8, 2012
Apr 8, 2012 at 2:36 PM UTC
early morning scavengers,
the street is their turf.
little shadows of a starving nation,
a beacon of hope on a leftover bread.
wake up, wake up Dear President.
how can you eat on a silver plate?
how can you digest a corrupted food?
put your television on, please.
for putting it off wont change a thing.
look at those ***** angels,
all smudged up and dying.
your ignorance and selfishness
are tucking their wings in.
knock, knock..open your door to them,
let them play and wallow on your floor.
let them have a taste of heaven
for a taste of New York wont make it even.
wake up, wake up you sleeping thieves.
how can you not notice?
how can you sleep?
roam around the playpen you decided to rule,
and see your toy soldiers disappearing.
as you fought for a position,
they fought with their lives.
and when you cover their remains with our flag
feel their courage you trembling ****
see how their blood tainted our native land,
from a bullet the enemy bought from your hand.
(inspired by Former President Arroyo of the Philippines and her corrupt ways.)
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 5:58 AM UTC
Games are for boys -- I was in the wrong.
No other opinion ever matters,
and how I know this, it makes me sick
Middle of your twenties dedicated to
card and computer games, but
never once was your attitude cool as
you thought it was.
Maybe I'm wrong, but I play for fun.
Maybe I'm naive, but I play to feel free.
Games are for boys only --
sometimes for girls who "aren't like other girls"
but then look what happens, Mary,
you get exposed to **** enough,
you'll become an *******
I want to have fun, but I can barely breathe.
You all want to be competitive until you lose
in a way you never thought you would,
then suddenly the competition's a farce
and you're not okay, because of that list
you made, the one that has acceptable
and unacceptable ways to win and play.
I could be mean if I wanted to, but sometimes
the truth does work.
Sometimes the truth does work.
Honey, if you're hurt that you didn't learn
what you should learn in kindergarten
you are more than welcome to join your
toddler friends in the playpen
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 6:29 PM UTC
Let’s not go chasing ants today.
The grass is gone
And dirt won’t burn anyway.
Why not get to work with me
And let your memory go out to the yard to play?
Let’s stay away from the familiar doors
And antique halls
Whose windows open only to walls, anyway.
Let’s ditch the dollhouse unopened,
Still in the box.
You and I have business in the life-sized world.
Bin the old plastic flags,
Still furled in bags, let them go to the ground
In triangles over G.I. Joe caskets.
Stuff your red lunchbox with as many
Kens and Barbies as you can
And let’s bury them in someone else’s playpen.
We should burn that old forest down
Where we used to do magic,
So no one can cut down the trees
And make planks or papers -
Because it would be a ***** to find them,
(Not to mention climb them) but
I suppose you can’t go torching forests.
Still,
Chuck that cigarette in the bushes.
Maybe something will catch.
May 24, 2011
May 24, 2011 at 10:44 PM UTC
Pretty little wind-up doll
wound up in the wrong hands
Was going through the motions
for too long
Years of tinkering
with her gears
she springs out of control
Repairs include
conserving energy and
resting her joints to
revitalize connectivity
She will no longer
be entertaining in your
playpen
You broke her
Jul 3, 2021
Jul 3, 2021 at 5:34 AM UTC
Ladies and Gentlemen
Sheeple of all kind
Come on out to McMonsantoLand
We have rides like GM-gO Kart Racing
The Circle Of Life Ferris wheel
Where you can see life from birth to death
In one short genetically altered cycle
And don’t forget to visit our horror house
The Organic Farmers’ Revenge
It’s guaranteed to scare you out of your overalls!
Let your kids loose in the
Government Playpen
Let them pretend to run the world
And see how much money
It doesn’t take
To own the government
Don’t forget to stop by Game Row
And play the BT ***** Exploder
Win some of our precious one-time use only seeds
And grow your very own food clones!
And if that’s not enough,
Try some of our delicious frankenfoods
But beware
They may try you first!
Come one
Come all
A perfect place for the whole family
McMonsantoLand!
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 8:10 PM UTC
All the things you do to me
You give me all your hurt
You fool around in front of me
Heartache I don't deserve
Was it something that I said?
Do you need to be restrained?
If it would help I'd tie you up
But, it would not improve a thing
A psychiatric ward would work
But, also rot your brain
I can't return all of your hurt
No one could handle this much pain
You're kooky with your nonsense
That drives me most insane
Yet, every time I see your face
I fall in love again
And I can't come down
I know I need it
But the Ritalin A won't do no no
The Ritalin A won't do
You gave me girlfriend and I thank you
Let me tell you she was pretty good to me
I want to tell you all this loving cost me something
But, really, was love ever free?
Oh, don't believe those ***** hippies
Not one word, because like you, they lied to me
But, I'm not judging, just a nudge then we're together
And let everything just be
Let everything just be
And I can't come down
I know I need it
But the Ritalin A won't do
No, the Ritalin A won't do
We'd make a million dollars on your actions
If you got paid what you're worth
And all your stinking playpen games please tell me
Are you through with me?
Are you through with me?
Because I'm still way too high on loving you
And I can't come down
I know I need it
But. the Ritalin A won't do no no no no
The Ritalin A won't do
So get your body over here
Because I can't come down
No, I can't come down
From a loving you
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 3:11 PM UTC
Old car batteries, jumper cables and a squeeze toy
lay strewn about the playpen,
saliva and battery acid intermingle there,
a jagged-toothed mobile slowly revolves overhead,
the arc-welder spits brilliantly as we mend teddy’s arm.
The walls shudder from pounding machines downstairs,
the scent of spilled hydraulic oil and grease waft in,
is dinner cooking?
Teddy’s arm is healed,
the weld a rippling scar,
we take him by the arm to the forge
and draw a bath,
climbing in we turn molten again.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
Modern man unpacks his woes
He'd have us call it progress
The way back to our cave is paved
Several million ante-deluvians
drowned under the same delusion
How high do you need the ziggurat?
Asks ****** at Babel
Time wasn't ripe back then for God
He disabled their default accord;
their demon intent to destroy His plan
Three thousand years it's taken to regroup
Time enough for His time to be right
For the time of the end of the curse
So please, can the clever caveman thoughts
next time you imagine shuttles in space
a reflection of how superior we are
He'd downgrade us again in a flash
if it wasn't just about the time
we get to blow ourselves up anyway
Wiseup weasels, remember the reason
our playpen was restored in seven days
from Lucifer's null and void revenge
We have seven milenniums to learn to love
To take up our parts in Father's plan
or blow away like the wind
Six of them are practically over
Six billion souls in six thousand years
Created on day six, the number of man
We're at point six point six point break
Day seven's about to dawn.
The number of perfection and rest
Tormented earth groans anticipation
Mushroom clouds and lawlessness
pose no threat to YaHWeH's timeline
Null and void is on His Just In Time list
Every eye will see Meshiach come
Every knee will bow for
The Ancient of Days
Sep 28, 2009
Sep 28, 2009 at 12:01 PM UTC
**** MY FIST COPYRIGHT 2011 DAVID EHRGOTT
Lucy Lucy What have you done
******* a kid
well it ain't no fun
Bashing and gashing
covering him
My right forearm hurts like sin
Lucy Lucy Kiss me kiss
Match the left one by doing this
Just
**** My Fist
**** My Fist
Yeah
**** My Fist
**** My Fist
Lucy Lucy ******* me blue
Here is all that she did do
Slapped me around; Put me through walls
That ************* Lucille Ball
So
**** my Fist
Yeah
**** My Fist
just
**** My Fist
**** My Fist
**** My Fist
**** My Fist
**** my Fist
**** My Fist
Tuesday Weld was not a Ball
She frigged herself and that was all
But Lucy had a *** playpen
For children around the age of ten
so
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
Surviving this is not a bliss
and my arm, it hurts like ****
I raise it up to tell the world
That Lucille Ball was my first girl that
****** MY FIST YEAH SHE
****** MY FIST
****** MY FIST YEAH SHE
****** MY FIST
SO
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
JUST **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT
SAID **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT
JUST **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT
SAID **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT
Little boys of only ten
Should not be used like that again
But you know Hollywood and them
I'll save the world and tell them just to
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
Lucy did it why don't you just
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
Hollywood Hollywood just kiss this
I've really had enough of your **** so
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST
**** MY FIST...
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 6:26 PM UTC
I feel like a child.
Sat in a playpen,
given only a ball.
I'm reined in, I'm deprived.
They tell me its fun,
that I need it.
So surely I've been let down.
To be sat in a pen,
with naught but a ball.
And I've been told to play.
I'll sit and stare at you dumbly.
You need not repeat yourself.
You need not attempt to make me play.
I promise your request will fall on deaf ears.
But give me pen and paper,
and I can make words fly.
I'd make them soar to me, take me away
from this empty, dreary playpen.
They'll take me mountains away,
entire oceans away from here.
They'll take me to see a different sky.
But I've been told to play.
Sitting in a dreary and empty playpen
with nothing but a ball.
When I know my words, want for them
to take me away,
and let my mind loose.
So I can be free.
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 7:43 PM UTC
Could I relive the moment I first saw you
Can I have that first kiss again
Is it possible that this sorrow will disappear
Can I be wrapped in your body that is my playpen
Will the day come
can it come real soon
Because I'm getting real tired
of this same old tune
What once was my everything
is now even more
I want whats good for me
I've never been so sure
I will do anything
I can beg, I can plead
and I will crawl
until I bleed
All I want is my destination
and that is what I will get
Through hell I will travel
Because you are heaven sent
Jul 18, 2012
Jul 18, 2012 at 6:40 AM UTC
They live here, it is not just their home and backyard. It is their playpen as well as their church. It is provider and sustainer, their Mother. They own it and it owns them. You and I may visit, we may stay as long as we like, partake in the beauty, become inspired by its vastness and variety, and then move on. They live here, always. Even when they can't be here they take the forest into their dwelling to keep the spirit alive within. Yes they live here full time, the forests are always on their mind, always calling to them, reminding them. You and I check in from time to time, they live here.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 12:04 AM UTC
So this is goodbye again
My fickle friend
You were hard to live in
At times
Others like the moon
Surrounded by stars
people and cars
Everywhere
A hum hanging
In the air
A chaotic symphony
Swooping like blind spirits
Through streets and hair
And I left you there
Behind me
Staring eagerly after me
As if a toy
Fled your playpen
And you want it back
To parade me around
Manipulate, twist and bend
Toss playfully into the wind
Caring not
Where I land
Just another speck of sand
On your overcrowded beach
Yet still within reach
A pawn without a Queen
Just a wasteful tyrant King
Waiting for the East to bring
Your next crop
Of starry eyes
And hungry hearts
Actors hands out for their parts
But I’ll sneak out in the dark
As the ghetto birds hover
Over dogs that love to bark
And then I’ll finally be free
And when your highways
Wake you in the morning
I find it funny
You won’t even miss me
- Jack Piatt
Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 2:39 PM UTC
A frolicking being, with no rules or distortion. A god of their own playpen, but regardless, mortal. But does an immortal being surpass a mortal in any other sense than time? Who’s to say.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 3:43 AM UTC
A day in the playpen
who could ask for more...
I was the princess
who they all adored...
There was uncle Al,
uncle Vic and uncle Rudy...
Who jumped in the playpen
for babysittting duty...
They took over everything
from bottle to bear...
Now I know they were silly
but it shows that they cared...
by ~ judy
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 5:34 PM UTC
In the arena,
success means everything,
and potential means nothing.
And everyone with tattered sleeves
is written off as vague, gray, and
lost to the doldrums of dreams.
No one wants you to be lost here.
It was cute when you were younger,
but you're too old to pretend.
Just be successful at being you,
whatever it is, that you do.
I want to go back to the playpen,
but not just to **** around.
I want to be a puppy with potential,
not what you perceive
to be the success
or failure of my identity,
Because my potential
is what makes me successful
as a human being,
so, believe in ME!
Mother, please believe that
my zigzagging monogamy
is a rainbow array, not color theory.
I'm sorry you'll have to wait
for grandchildren to play
in your backyard...
with my future husband...
What if they were playing...
with my future wife?
Lover, please believe that
when I open my heart
I'm not doing it
to capture and pin yours down
I just want to feel it beat.
Stranger, believe that
I am not trying to win your praise,
I am ignorant, naive,
and ambivalent to white lies.
Friend, believe that
I am actually concerned
with how YOU feel.
I'm not just asking to be polite.
Boss, believe that
I am not the title
you use to assign and reward me.
I am a human.
I'm good at learning the rules of these games.
Audience, believe
that I am not a poet.
I just feel strongly
and write those feelings down.
Ego, believe that
I am smarter than you, wrapped up
in other's presence about ME.
I am just ME,
yet I rarely feel like ME.
I often just feel like trying to be
what you want me to be.
Ego, I must remind you everyday
to leave ME at peace.
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 11:48 AM UTC
Coming on in leaps and bounds
surveying all that he surrounds
banging on his playpen
nearly knocking it over again
think he’s gone to big for that thing
maybe a hang from the door swing
I got him a walker
he just sits still
becomes a talker
it seems that once he’s given the freedom
no longer wants it, more secure in his kingdom
maybe its out of his comfort zone?
makes him feel lost and alone
Is this the same for all of us
banging the walls, making a fuss
if our every wish was granted
would we suddenly feel stranded?
if we live without hope
pretty soon we run out of scope
we need something to rebel against
otherwise our thoughts are filled with angst
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 8:30 AM UTC
Some day soon
When karma's killed the last one
And the clock kick-starts at Noon
We'll all know nothing
Way back when
When we all had hearts
Back in our caged playpen
The last time we knew innocence
Everyone makes me sick now
I can't look you in the eyes
Upon birth we took a vow
To never let the light stray from us
But we all **** up
And we all hit pavement
At our wounds, we ****
But nothing ever heals
Mar 16, 2012
Mar 16, 2012 at 7:22 PM UTC
Our needs weakness
R-Restless
R-Ruthless
R-Ravenous
R-Risque
R-we $$$
Rich?
To death be as part
Sickness or switch
Struggling it seems
Endless
Moon shines for others
Why am I dressless
Where is our star
With the Countess?
Waiting too long
Racing mind buying
another car
Too many offers and deeds
Losing yourself in
one star*
Vamperish layers
The finest relishes
Exquisite jewelry
out shines and
his smile declines
She volunteered
She polishes anyones
spirit to get divorced hum
Right on to beacon on
She volunteers words
the right one's
Mike and Robin
delicious so ambitious
He's the classic Electric
Radio's
To be or not ot be
Diddos winning lotto
Widows rediscovered
Or cut like a knife
The Rose in her prime
Those high expectations
She volunteered new
inventions of time
Remembering President
Kennedy Ask not what your
country could do 4 times
for you
Now the Playgirl calender # 5
babe what she could
do for the country plenty____
Modern times date men of many
6 Men and women remains a ten
Feeling spoiled in a playpen
Those useless years perhaps the
lucky 7 love me times
Flooding your brain
White picket fence chimes
"Bad moon rising full moon
Giving away rebates
Those volunteers Scenic routes
Vineyard enjoying aged wine
Be mine you need more time
Laura Croft tomb raider
in her loft be the smart player
In Rome architectural beauty
My Mom is amazingly
Judy********
And she did her duty
Red changed the color
Valentine
Became the watcher "Rolex"
You were writing the words
like a women stalker
pills of Xanax
Your husband is eating
Your "Prima Donna"
4 the love of pasta & capers
He will always be your
love mentor
The blood and chocolate hand
We will all live up to the
Titans don;t ever say never
You only got 10 fingers
Now land
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 12:18 PM UTC
1.
Flickering orbs of light
daintily pirouette
carving deep wells of horizontal thought
into the distant cave walls.
Gyration
by gyration
birth dancing shadows
emerge from the unpainted
anthropological canvass
of her moon waltzing heart.
2.
She feeds
on the blood
of a holographic universe
a vampiress
of the verse
her quill composed
of hushed owl wings
a squadron of angry whispers
poised on the galaxy’s edge
sipping deeply
from inky black existence
her pure
mirror soul
a rainbow suffused
with the mystery
of midnight
the oscillating wavelength
of her mind’s delicate intent
ripe with stark blue motion
reaching barehanded
into even the greatest broken-glassed voids
winking wryly at the waves
of the Cosmic Microwave Background
posting that playpen snapshot
of a stumbling baby universe
onto the ostentatious fridge
of her cascading nightime heart.
Oct 2, 2020
Oct 2, 2020 at 11:09 AM UTC
I heard you made a story
just the other day
to show the world a wind of news
that blows in everyday
You're always over trying
When it's your turn to behave
at least you still stuck with it
Got plenty now to save
I once believed your story
and everything you said
Sometimes I wish I had listened
to someone else instead
Do you believe in make believe
or are you immune to it
Sometimes I like to just pretend
Hello there, have we met
But that was many years ago
Before you crapped on it
My life or what it really is
a simple dull existence
You added very interestingly
excitement and much stress
added pain and misery
to a life already bent
But your story is so very old
The jealous lovers end
If I can't have him no one can
so devious your plan
Your arms (are) like a Cephelopod
Devitalize my wit
I'm sure the world can figure out
Who is the devil-fish
Reality was my start plan
Yours was just garbage
Why did you choose to bother me
I had no life to begin with
I once believed in make believe
I thought we could be friends
That was many years ago
Before my life did end
But don't give up the hope my friend
She can't destroy all' men
Some even know they're lucky gents
Avoiding her playpen
I like to make up make believe
some thing to believe in
Don't worry it won't hurt your ears
or ruin you again
I want to live in make believe
and start over again
paint all the colors nice this time
so my life can begin
Do you believe in make believe
Then come on, jump right in
enjoy the fun and happiness
and make believe again
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 2:44 PM UTC