"prefered" poems
Honesty is the best policy,
One we've chosen to abstain.
Honestly I'd rather you be honest with me;
Walking on eggshells we could refrain.
Tiptoeing around so we don't step upon the cracks in our floors,
Holding our breath tight so we don't breath in the thick truth-
God forbid we just speak honestly anymore,
God forbid we let all of the unsaid thoughts loose.
Honestly I can't say I know you like I once did,
And that's absolute fact.
All because we have absolutely forbid
Ourselves from a backtrack-
Backtracking to when we could actually talk without thinking before speaking
Or worrying about what we have said.
No worries of the truth leaking
From our honest hearts and heads.
I don't want your meaningless quips,
Your aimless remarks.
I prefered the small notes on slips,
Our conversations in the dark.
Honesty is the best policy,
A policy we tried and found true-
A policy we have declined to upkeep,
A policy we once knew.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
Daisy, Daisy give me your answer do........
boy! That Cadillac was one hell of a piece of engineering.
Burned a long time, like it enjoyed the pain of the flames.
He smiled at the thought.
Handmade by union men the way it should always be.
Not those ******* up ***** like Jimmy Hoffa either.
That ******* probably a ****** like hoover.
The image of him in a basque stuck.
Made him angry, but he soon reined it in.
Lecter was never angry. Not in the books.
He prefered the books, no change-the -ending for the mass appeal.
******* movies.
He was cautious now, the fake i.d. for the rental would fool most.
He was pushing things, her blood in the trunk even burnt black worried him. Next time will be better.
In Daisy's book was a circled name with hearts drawn around it.
Louisa. Her address as well. Nice and easy. 200 miles to go.
Make like Rutger in The Hitcher, move west....
The VW Rabbit was a ****** car after the Caddy.
The two kid's didn't want to give it up easy, but they did in the end.
They looked so silly, tied back-to-back in the rear seat, legs broke to squeeze them in.
Made him smile all through the night.
No blood this time, not yet anyway. Playing Slipknot to **** him off, little *****
Well write a song for these two, clown boy.
He had looked on their lap-top at the poetry site.
Saw the latest post from the pub landlord. He was a little confused, this poem didn't seem to be telling him his next move.
He dragged them out into a ditch before dawn, stood on their necks to **** them, like the coyote trappers did, cruel ********
No blood, just **** all over each other as they died.
Maybe he'd get a reward poem for doing it, in the meantime finding Louisa would keep him occupied.
The vw had a cheap sat nav, hope she's home.....
Jan 27, 2011
Jan 27, 2011 at 3:20 PM UTC
A small, frail woman,
very much a shy recluse
who prefered only
the company of few
Like many classical poets
she lived mostly unrecognized
until after her death
Immortality in the pages
Perhaps she was more daring
than her lifestyle
She had to be so, simply because
she was a woman and not a man
It is because of her
and those like her
that female writers,
even amateurs like me,
can let our pens flow
and our papers fill up
with wondrous words
So I thank you,
Emily Dickinson,
for having the courage to write
and to show the world
that females can make
such interesting words
come alive!
Aug 3, 2010
Aug 3, 2010 at 9:35 AM UTC
Oh yes! i love you babe
all my senses and my heart react to ur love
"oh my heart,how do u feel in there?"
slowly it respond"IT *****
oh no-no-no,it wasn't me babe
it was this heart
hey heart,u can't be rude,not at least with my love
oh my mind speak " u my lady,u r crazy.that guy u love doesn't even worry"
hey mind,have u seen scars on my skin?
skin exactly knows how much I love him
preety were the pictures of our said eyes
but mouth said "how ugly is tht guy"
but babe,I didn't say that
oh,ur smell,its way toxic & lungs complained
but I never did babe
your voice was husky,I prefered tht way
but later ears started to worry
but trust me babe,it wasn't me
oh,how u touched my hair and now it falls
is it because it misses u or u that poisonous
ya,fine ! Wish no more babe,wish no more
I did love you once
ignorance is a bliss& now m satisfied
enjoying the fake pie,saying I love you
just to make me high
oh yes,babe now I realize how " Love is a lie"
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
we have scorpions
my wield has two eyes
i saw no bee
running my right hand
up the railing and
continues hurting..
the cunning man i am
i urinated on it
and that has stopped
there is some wisdom
in the old ways
***** is a natural
healing..
vi
rainy day scribe
would like to imbibe
sweet long ago youth
to kiss your red mouth
that soured wine
and screamed our
insane face..
i would look into your eyes
and tried not to
think of them
so much for
that no..
but i´ d be gone
it was the ****
and all that colors
when we got effed up
you saved your best insights
for our arguements
you brought me two black
kittens
i put you in bed and fed you
porrige
everyone complained
i went to the occasional party
but prefered the country
we see the cure..
i lived the country
we went to cinema
we saw the piano
you on the bus
me on my bike..
i enjoyed that forrest ride
cool in the morning
and out of the breeze
you with the haarlam gazette..
o twas a cold of a winter so
i might visit my friend fiet
who lived on a house boat
with so many cats and dog
and a chicken and geese..
we would have a cup of t
and looked at her photos..
when the canals froze
when at the sea side
or with a sweet cognac
and a pint of mild
heck my hand throb
and my heart too..
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 8:49 AM UTC
The hat did not make the boy
they even wanted to select their prefered neighbours.
The dusty unused courtyard
long buried prayer books loitered.
If there was a God he was already made
in their own image,
insular and grunt.
To surrender to their leaden aviary
the cage wouldn't need bars,
archaism would ablute the soul
the world outsiders
a plank walkway the only means.
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 12:58 PM UTC
Garshin jumped from the fifth floor of his apartment building and died five days later at a Red Cross hospital.
Gilman prefered
chloroform over cance.
De Larra died of a broken a heart,
the bullet he took to the head only confirmed this.
Caicedo kept true to his words "to live than more 25 years of age was madness"
60 pills for every year he wouldn't live to see
O' Brien got a call
from Hollywood and a
week later he drank himself to death.
The movie was sad, his life was sadder.
MacIntyre just wanted to keep warm in Brooklyn when he
set his apartment ablaze.
Wallace hanged himself for knowing too much.
Me?
Ill die of natural causes on any given day
I lack the courage these men took to the grave
Hemingway- "if he is a good enough writer he must face eternity, or the lack of it.
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 5:53 PM UTC
All I wanted was to lay awake with you
In a dark room, staring at the white celing
Not giving a **** about the world
Or talking bout' feelings
Just listening to my old records
In silence.. Without saying a single word
With our hearts wide open
And our clothes all over the floor
But I was never good to you
Thats what I get for being true
It seems like you've always prefered
All those little ****** that want you to be scared
Dear, lonelyness is nothing to be afraid of
You can always find a friend
Inside the next glass of liquor
Oh, love.
One can never bet too young to seek for truth
Don't know much about it myself
But we can find it together if you want me to
With you I'd sail the seven seas
Through tides and storms until the sky completely clears.
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
I open up your letter
and I read your every word
I found them quite unsettling
for it was just yesterday
That they put you in your grave
Should I keep these empty pages ?
After all now you have gone
*** MARKED FOR A MAKEOVER
"I can change and bring you
a brand new beautiful song ."
But your chorus has been depleted
There are no more a capellas
The voice of the turtle will remain mute
As you prefered living inside your bony shell
Then I said to you , "Now do I really give a hoot ?"
So I threw your letter into the can
That's where the trash belongs
I know I will never forget you
With that thought I will be moving on
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 9:18 PM UTC
It's fancy meeting you here
I say as if I haven't been
Planning this run in for weeks.
And you give me
A smile in passing,
As you join the girl
You always prefered.
And I say it's okay,
And I scream it's okay,
To myself more so than to anyone else.
Because who am I
To dare
That you could ever
Love me again
After the way
I left you?
So before you go,
I just want to say,
You were my biggest mistake.
Not because you tried,
But because I walked away.
I recall all the attempts you made.
You wanted to fix my world,
Save a scared little girl,
And I threw you out.
I threw you away
Before with opened eyes
I realized
I needed you to stay.
No one else has ever looked at me --
Not the way you used to.
So it's funny,
Running into you here,
When I've been running
For all of these years.
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 4:22 PM UTC
the ''love of my life''
never washed my blood of of his hands
instead, he prefered to let it dry
so he could show off to his friends
that he was a real player
in the game
though the seconds he was away
turned me hollow,
it was okay, i felt
i was a phoenix-
who rose from
my own ashes of despair
and came alive whenever you decided to come around
you were my savior
and my murderer
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 6:04 PM UTC
arms stretched out
your presence falls to dust.
clinging to lost particles
essence blows to the wind.
Never mine alone
your hot breath whispers
nape of neck scortched
tendrils embrace fragile frame.
How could you?
callous manipulation
your earworm hypnotized
siren's song to keep me at sea.
*****
satisfied by legs sprawled wide
predatory habits
engorge on sickly perfume
latte skin prefered
Why her..?
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 2:35 AM UTC
Everytime I write, I write to prove something to myself. To reassure me and my kind that not all of thoughts are meant to stay inside of this head, this house, this old heart of mine.
Which is not to say that my thoughts could not be better expressed in some other way. As a matter of fact in the past they have. Which is why for years they did decline and always prefered to stay inside, to enjoy the corridors of a more well known mind.
And yet every day somehow I pull my thoughts and have them placed here now. Having warned them many years ago, that one day they would have to be more... Sociable, and honest with the world about where they would like to go.
Because if you only keep your thoughts to yourself, how can those around you be expected to help? As you press and press for something else, and somehow try and prove to yourself, that you can flip your own mind inside out and share about all that you create anew.
It is the head within the house of my heart which knows these sentiments to be true.
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 11:48 PM UTC
Love is what I thought I prefered to fixate upon,
But my brain stands on guard against lies.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 8:42 PM UTC
"And I hate it when you overeact, you'll go with your stupid poetry ****
There, you pushed the red button which send me right off the cliff
Freefalling from my only sanity
How do you expect me to react to your most destroying words, should I shut all my nerves and be your punching bag?
And why do you mind my stupid poetry **** if they speak nothing about you?
Well I guess the shoe fits you perfectly
And you feel attacked
And you don't like being cornered
So you lift up your gun
So that my head will end up below your knees
And if saying sorry means decreasing the air in my lungs
I'd be dead long time ago
Being sorry for not doing things in your prefered way
Being sorry for not saying yes to whatever you request
Being sorry to make you feel bad
Being sorry to ******* FEEL
You won the war,
And I'm the one living with fresh open wounds for years
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 9:51 AM UTC
I cried too much lately
And I still cry now
My heart breaks into so many pieces
But you seem so **** heartless
What would happened if we still be together?
Would you ever treat me as your perfect lover?
You haunted me in my dream every night
Have you ever think of it tonight?
I regrets everyday about my hard complicated life
Why you confessed to me in the wrong time?
I been waiting the words from you in so many ways
Is it not enough love you prefered from me when we are away?
Everything I spoken seem so useless
Now you gone like, today and forever.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 6:54 AM UTC
death lingerer
and baby,
it was eaither **** you or **** me
the old mans tale, **** or be killed
and i know which choice you'd much have prefered
baby you got lucky,
because the only one who wanted you more alive then yourself
was me, myself, i did
and so i did the deed
the do that you wanted done
and now im dead,
but baby, baby, baby, i'm not gone
dont you sigh of releif like that
dont you show false greif
the way you're looking over my dead body
i might mistake it for lust, desire, hunger
and i may be dead but the false hope still kills
baby, i'm biting back a scream you'll never hear
and you'd think that it was over
you'd think my deaths ruthless grip
would **** it all out of me
satiate the love, the lust, the desire
but it's only framed it stronger
nothing makes me want you more
i crave you more then ever
and i've been messing with the rules
i've been pushing the buttons
because every day in your life
brings you closer to me
and everyday in my death
my soul lingers with yours.
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
You were the first person
I ever introduced myself
As Ann...
But you refused instead,
Prefered by the name Ain...
As you thought it's prettier.
You made me blushed since then...
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 3:18 PM UTC
I don't think I ever wrote anything that scary
But just because you happened to dare me
I'll weave a tale of fear and dread
A story so vile it'll stop your heart dead
Deep in the night when you're asleep in bed
An creature most foul enters your head
He slits open your papery eardrums with his claws
And sneaks on through without even a pause
He runs his sharp nails along your tympanic cavity
And blood rains down as he licks at it absently
A slit he cuts in your middle temporal artery
Then he slides on in like a thief on a robbery
Riding the current on twists and turns
On the crimson tide he is now a foreign germ
When he reaches his prefered destination
It is here he will wreak his final devastation
Behind your eye he works his claws and drills your bone
Until he hits his mark and lets out a gleeful moan
From his mouth comes a proboscis long and sleek
Then out it's tip a rancid fluid it does leek
Turning your eyeball into slimy mush
He ***** up the fluid in one long gush
Then he squeezes through the hole that he made
And in the eyes remains is where he lays
When he wakes it's through your eyelid he tears
His furtive scrambling's on your face does pierce
As you wake up and the pain you can feel
Screams of terror as to your mother you appeal
The blood streaming slowly down your face
Is acidic and burning as it leaves a furrowed trace
Looking into the mirror in shock and dismay
You realise in horror that in your eye eggs have been laid.
Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 9:16 AM UTC
If it was autumn forever the ribbions tied to the banister of your porch would still be dancing on a vibrant breeze. And in the door step stair well where i left mumbling ghosts of uncerctainty, they might still wail at three a.m. when the cool night air cast me to your warmth.
But winter came and inbetween the microcosom fabric of those ribbions ice crystals grew and shattered, winter glass shreded all the pretty things i left. The ghosts prefered the chance of you but as winter fell and you became more transparent than them, i guess they hitched themselves to the moon, just trying to visit something beautiful.
Sep 4, 2017
Sep 4, 2017 at 2:57 PM UTC
In the dance of life
The shadows i hide
The light was your reign
A beat never skipped
From afar i did not watched
From near i was not found
Never did i leave my comforting ground
Clothed in the night
Running around
Only light was the distant glow of town
Not for you
Not for them
Going round and round was not for me
I prefered the shadows were i could sin
With a group of brothers none of us kin
I did not venture to the floor
You crept into the shadows
Curious what was behind that door
Still bathed in light
You reached into the night
And grasped a hold of my heart
Your eyes glimmered
Brighter than your dress
I tried but failed to hide and regress
Captivating you were
My soul wretched
But my hand reached
It was rough and scarred
The princess out the castle
Looking for a thrill
Took hold and sealed the deal
You learned of danger
You learned of the darkness
You asked me to dance
It was imperfect
Frustrated you grew
Yet beautiful to me
At first i was a thrill
But i stumbled
And your voice grew shrill
You left you ran
Back to your stage
You found new partners
I still ran the night
But when the music was gone
And ***** was thin
you still waltzed in my mind
Still Elegant
But now a touch of sin
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
12:22 sets the mood for another midnight ramble
When the lulling rumbling suffocation under a twenty pound cat
Can't and won't bring sleep
Choking on the flighty flickering of memories
Better left buried
Not walking my mind like listless zombies
Munching on the gray matter of my emotions
No sleep would be prefered than reliving my heart break again
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 1:27 AM UTC