"pricey" poems
That genuine smile of yours delicate and mild,
Can soothe senses and tempers gone wild.
A raging storm with ease you can calm,
That smile of yours is ever so warm.
It takes you only a few seconds to flex those ****** muscles,
To brighten the days of millions amongst all the hustle, bustle and tussles.
Your smile is so priceless and pure,
For it all pain one can endure.
It’s like the rays from a billion suns shining bright,
Dazzling and sparkling like the brightest light.
It gives that extra glow to your face,
Making everyone’s heart beat race.
It’s like the most pricey jewel one could admire,
Among millions it could spark a burning desire.
Every smile you pass is like a treasure,
Making the few lucky, millionaires for sure.
But when you frown in the saddest of ways,
It’s like the happiness in the world has gone out of gaze.
Dark clouds fill the overhead sky,
Rain starts pouring as the heavens begin to cry.
It’s like the world hits a note so low,
Their happiness takes that heavy blow.
An empty feeling fills the hearts of those,
Who once with your smile happily would rose.
So smile because the world smiles with you,
Cry and the world sobs with you too.
Times may get you down in life,
But don't give up the strife.
Don't let those pearls from your eyes fall,
For someone or something who wasn't worth it after all.
So keep smiling day in and day out,
And brighten the lives of those you move about...
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 12:57 PM UTC
Mother must have said it a thousand times,
Look with your eyes, not with your hands
But I was careless, full of youth
I wasn't the most privileged coming up
I respected things though, knew the meaning of money
But I was careless, full of energy
The Squirrels Nest, oddities and antiques
Mom loved that place, pricey as it was
But I was careless, full of curiosity
She used to take me there, that odd corner store
Mom would browse while I explored the wonders within
But I was careless, full of nerves
I remember just how it felt when she slapped me,
Large Minoan vase, my helmet, shattered on the floor
But I was careless, full of destruction
Mother said it a thousand and one times,
Look with your eyes, not with your hands
And finally, I had learned
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 4:16 AM UTC
From whence we tip to toast the Cocktail new
Too pricey for a Sip, if you ask me
Still, those Pubbers demand your Freshest Brew
Either for Show or Truest Cheers that be
Now who composed the Price which I complain
May rob my Wages on half-month's budget?
You have Defense, though: Is that my Domain
To liver that Sign out of my Pocket?
I suppose either way Purchased or not
Those Senses concerned will take no Notice
With Baskets fare, Bread and Butter forgot
Mix the Lager still Best Friends acquiesce.
The Currant still topped, which to Celebrate
Ignore the Side-Bugs; Light the Good Debate.
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 9:11 PM UTC
red wine
sugar, cinnamon
sliced pears
nutmeg
boil boil boil
stir
pricey cheese
**** food
****** mood
Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 3:12 PM UTC
I smell Motherland in the corridor
She crept up on me with her soap, drunken men and things I’d rather forget
I was thinking about death since I was 10.
.
The plane gets up,
Chicken soup is served.
Here are your nuts.
Have this lolly, the tension is getting
Higher
Higher
And higher
I cannot hear anything.
.
We are now in a very neat place
Incheon, South Korea
Fancy, shiny, pricey
Another plane, bigger
Higher
Higher
Higher
Yoghurt and cheesecake
I like this food better.
.
We get off, and even the ground shines
The air is very different
For the first day I smell this country it does has a specific smell
And after 5 years
You creep up on me, my love.
.
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 10:36 AM UTC
Today I bought a square plate
it's not for me, but for an enemy
that I could do worse things to, if I was a less noble person
as the things they've done I will not speak.
The plate is porcelain and quite finely made
elegant and excellently finished for how not so pricey it was
hints of history seems to hide in it's shell--
as seams are weaved into
what has probably lived a long and unused existence
this handcrafted masterpiece.
Separately painted by some fancy artist
to whom I do not recognize the name of,
although it is said he may have done something wrought with his ear
or did this man's uncle make this plate, oh well, I am unsure.
It is these very details to why,
I am now in possession of this piece of the past
that will be priceless to those who know more craftsmanship,
at least more knowledgeable than the man who sold it to me.
From the gleaming in your eyes
I can tell this plate may even mean a great deal to you
is this true my good friend?
oh well, I guess I can give the plate to you
instead of the devil I spoke of before.
*As I handed my prize to them
it began to feel heavier than any ordinary plate should,
gravity granted the greatest reprise I've ever sought
as the demon's face whelmed with depression
and mine satisfaction--
for being such a convincing storyteller.
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 5:33 AM UTC
I saw you at the subway the other day
You were drinking hot chocolate
I thought about asking you for a sip
but on second thought I didn't want to burn my tongue
I chased you up the stairs and outside
I got into a taxi cab
I didn't want to see you, you were looking good
I wanted to cool off and take some time out of the busy day
I heard a knock on my door, my door
Who was there?
What are you doing here?
I'm really not sure you should be here right now
Because I'm going. It's getting a little pricey
that you should be in Sweden, my friend
because it's the only place for you
I hear they have really nice gear of sorts there.
You should be in Sweden, my friend.
Yeah, you should be in Sweden.
Get yourself to Sweden
I'll tell you what we can do
You're not bent on calling me
and we'll do lunch, I'm sure.
Your fax machine can fax my bags
and it will get in touch with your answering machine's secretary.
Your hair doesn't shine like it used to.
You're not using that conditioner I gave you last year for your birthday.
It was salon selected. I thought you would like it.
And now I'm so scared. I'm pale as white.
I would invite you to sit but I didn't want you to ruin my new sofa.
I've felt this too many times.
I just got myself back up the nerve to say, the nerve
that you should be in Sweden, my friend.
What are you doing here?
You should be in Sweden.
You can ski when you're there.
You should be in Sweden, my friend.
Yeah, get yourself to Sweden.
I don't care how you do it.
Just go to Sweden. Go to Sweden.
I'll tell you what we can do.
You're not bent on calling me,
but we'll do lunch, I'm sure.
Your fax machine can fax me back
and get in touch with my cappuccino maker.
You're not bent on calling me,
and we'll talk for a while, I'm sure.
You can get back my postcard machine
and it'll get in touch with your answering machine's secretary.
May 15, 2012
May 15, 2012 at 5:16 AM UTC
Skin erupts, itches
fingers resist temptations
small fight over guilt
every night wishing
looking into clear mirrors
feeling the reflection
applying lotion for moons
pricey creamy dream
exercising self-loathing
the unphotographed cheek(s)
endless blame
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 4:53 AM UTC
"No.
No you absolutely can not go to the store to buy some beer
you! you are too young
just stay inside and watch some TV
beer is for losers
no go and make your dad another G&T;
during the commercial break"
Feeling thirsty?
Want to be liked and respected?
want to be fun?
life of the party?
want to be swarmed by a slew of half naked vaginas with legs?
then get yourself a Bud
"Why can't you be happy with what you have?
you know we never had much growing up
and look at us now
a pair of reasonably comfortable adults
don't you want to be reasonably comfortable?
can't you just be yourself?"
Hey you! Yeah you!
what the hell are you just sitting there for?
It's a Friday night why aren't you out partying?
no invitation. **** Wait I know why -
What's that you are wearing?
you don't know!?
you need some Polo
and some Nike, just do it
throw in some brooks brothers
don't you want people to think better of you
don't be THAT guy in cargo shorts
unless you like ************ alone at night
and here's some Beats by Dre headphones
so you can hear us better
Now I no it's pricey, but don't you want to be happy?
we've got your happiness right here
and it will only cost you
your parents' credit card
"We just don't know what's wrong with you
why are you in such a rut?
get out of bed, go and do something
we got you what you asked for
why can't you be satisfied?
a lenovo 2 in 1?
what the hell is a Lenovo 2 in 1?
A laptop and a tablet?
Why?
Oh, you just have to have one
well I'm sorry, but money has been tight
maybe you should get a job
your birthday is right around the corner..."
Look at this cool guy
Look at how great his life is
you want this. We know you do
what you'll need is some more swag
just a little bit
and some cough syrup, expensive liquor and some ***
plus you'll want some *******
how else can you party this hard?
Maybe get a gun, or a knife
no. Definitely get a gun. A big one
that way nobody will say anything to **** your buzz
carry that big stick and walk tall cool dude
oh yeah, here's a secret for you
keep it to yourself alright?
women really like being treated like ****
we told them to
"What's that?
a gun? For what?
oh so now you're going to **** yourself?
well I'm sorry but we don't do that in this family
you'll just have to be ground into submission like everybody else
what makes you so special, huh?
why do you get to punch out early
shut up, keep your head down, do your job, buy some **** have a family
then get your kids started with all the **** you buy.
brand name baby clothes and such.
now be a good boy
and pay your taxes
but shush, the TV is on"
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 10:00 PM UTC
thank you! thank you!
my audience screams for more
i take a bow and raise my head again
"and for my final performance... i will be jumping into..."
wait
****
where did she go?
we lost her.
we lost her we lost her...
the show was eleven dollars.
a bit too pricey if you ask me.
i think everybody knew the girl on stage just wanted to get naked for the crowd,
she just wanted the applause.
i take out my phone and text my boyfriend.
"i just
i just want you to know that i cant commit to anything in this world, and there isnt a single thing out there that amazes me.
unfortunately this is just the kind of person i am."
he replies with
"i cant be around you anymore.
its confusing to me and its hurting me"
i reply
"okay"
and drive to the hospital, where they tell me,
"you really dont belong here
youre really fine"
i do that thing with my mouth
just so youll text me back
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 6:08 PM UTC
I'm thinking about June Acott
She died on the 18th of August, 2009
She had aged seventy-four years before her demise
That's what the bench says, anyway.
If June Acott were a wine she would be a glowing, sweet red
June Acott would be a summer wine
She would be a pricey vintage
And as she had aged the sediment would have built up
And it would have smoothed her rough edges
But maybe that wasn't enough
And maybe if she'd been decanted she would have aged seventy-five years
Or maybe seventy-six
But seventy-four is a vintage that anyone would be proud to have in their cabinet
And I hope that whoever built this memorial bench serves her all the time.
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 3:16 PM UTC
4:10 AM, Thanksgiving Day
he lost his breath for good while I watched
In his thirties
lungs weak from polio and huffing Marlboros
Saturday I held one corner of his glossy box
his pricey glossy box
that was to be covered
with free soil
Some spring eve a quarter century later
the old writer
who told his tales well into his eighties
slipped into hospice sleep
and at his widow’s request
I got to hold up another corner
and place another flower
on another fancy shining tomb
Another thousand times
since then
I carried the ironic weight of lives
not all the way to their holy holes
but inch by inch towards the unknown
my shoulder sinking a bit more each time
while I searched for some epiphany in rhyme
we all bear the pall
of everyone’s fall
each has one shoulder sorely bent
regardless of who chose to repent
so as we walk with this worldly weight
someone else helps shape our fate
for try as we may to walk alone
our time is never solely our own
We are the pallbearers, pallbearers
for all
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 7:25 PM UTC
Designer clothes, glittering cars,
A million buck fragrance,
Costly drink at the bars,
Flying in chartered planes,
Your so called stars ,
Celebs at the parties,
Smoking cigars .
Oh, you like calling it high society ?
Then please do, mister,
I can take facts with ease.
I've been a slave to it, since so long,
I know how ******* high it is.
Effin brats of billionaire dads,
Acting cool with pricey ****
******* roaming in alluring rags,
All slaves like me, of tempting fads.
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 11:37 AM UTC
I like a tough steak at a regular steak house
(I'm one of those people that doesn't have to have everything tender)
Filet Mignon the spaced out king
pricey Prime Rib
a juicy T-Bone
steak kabobs
a decent well-done steak sandwich,
the non-fatty round steak that
mother used to make
a real rare piece of steak
a cooked by me steak at a
real nice steak house
where the gimmick is cook your own
except for their steak kabob
same with Mister Steak,
that and Outback Steak House in general
Longhorn's will do for something like that!
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 3:06 PM UTC
Hello Super Bowl Sunday,
I don't really know you
I know I should be attentive,
but I haven't got a clue
You are a holiday to many,
a really big deal
But to me you are a mystery,
and an excuse for a meal
A game to watch, I get it,
and some really pricey ads
I can watch what others scream about,
and pick up on new fads
I feel I am outside looking in,
on others' joys and sorrow
They will hype all day beforehand,
recapping all tomorrow
After all, its just a game,
Not filled with reason and rhyme
But I will get my revenge next month,
when it's Oscars Time!!
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
I heard Peter Piper picked a pricey pepper, the same day I heard he got chased down by a hungry mob of less than lovely lepers, now Peter Piper and his picked pepper are prodded by hot pokers while a village of now happy, hairless, horrifyingly lipless lepers salivate in anticipation of poor Peter Piper's soon to be pickled body.
The Masses chant and cheer to sounds of Peter's screams that seem to season his sizzling skin as children scrape scolding scraps peeling from his searing kneecaps.
Veins build up pressure, veins then rupture, veins open and spray onto the crowd and moisturize all the rough textures, soaked faces gain weight and fall off exposing maggots that festered, excited crowds jump and cheer as their knees buckle and bodies fracture.
The elder ***** picks a peck of pickled Peter Piper, now the elder ***** enjoys a pepper with a peck of old Peter Piper.
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 4:14 PM UTC
The young poetess^ writes:
*Sitting on the edge of brilliance,
that cuts my youthful pride to shreds,
are the verbal shards of bards,
poets, beyond my experience.
Expelling their lifeblood,
I can, but only,
place my hands upon
their open wounds
murmuring hopeful platitudes,
praying that their blood spilled,
is not their excellence drained,
their wisdom wasted and stained!*
The old hoary replies:
Wishful thirsty drinkers
from the cups of youth are we.
We 'presumed' ancient bards
have lived to regret the
burden of our accumulations,
the weightiness of our pages,
owning insights, steeped,
fermented, wine-to-vinegar,
spoiled by age, time-wasted.
Our words, product of visions
grown dim and simp,
under no duress,
we-eager confess!
Better poets were we,
when possessed of
blood hotter, skin smoother,
brow clearer, innocent of fear!
Your eager cuts run
zesty red and freely,
Ours, clotted ones,
anemic, yellowed from
the curse of the boundaries
of too much experience,
purchased pricey rules,
murderers of our uninhibited courage.
You cogitate with
passions unlined, unruled.
We shuffle, bemoan
our drizzling days,
waiting for relief,
and yet, rue
our inevitable conclusion.
We curse our fate, our slow dissolution.
You bless the opportunistic rising sun,
enervated by energies unbounded,
You animate for answers, solutions!
We sit caned and quiet, acidic,
damning Solomon and his caustic words -
There is nothing new under the sun.
Perhaps we know a word or two more than you.
Gladly we'd trade that for youthful hands
that pray, point and scribe, with the eagerness
that sets words upon paper of spirits enflamed!
Time, our master, has shred our writs to pieces,
yet, you young poetess, greet the morn, confident, saying
today I will give birth to the first of many, masterpieces.
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
Sometimes,
I wish I were a plastic toy.
Inexpensive, but cheerful.
Why did we outgrow those things?
I would trade the pricey seriousness of my pearls
Any day now
For some cheap happiness.
Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 1:11 AM UTC
California daddy
buy me pricey whiskey
take me out to dinner
bring me home and get tipsy
yeah we're narcissistic ********
and we feed each other's egos
not the villains of the story but
don't pretend to be the heroes
sit me on your lap
light my cigarette
firm grip on my ***
yeah we're ******* to forget
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 12:16 PM UTC
Belly up to the
cannibal *** and feed, pig.
Be just like the rest.
Marrow in your teeth,
the flesh of your suckling brat.
You voted for this.
Your nose in the mud
tills up those pricey truffles,
while you eat your young.
Securitizing
your future derivatives.
Your fat on their plate.
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 2:34 PM UTC
I’m not going to make money by
Creating some clever gadget.
That costs too much for advertising
To fit in my future budget.
I’m not going to write a book yet
Because they are hard to sell.
I decided against self-help seminars.
Sitting through those is hell.
I’m not going to learn hairdressing
So I can be a pricey hair ******
I’m not going to write recipes to show
A hundred ways to use a blender.
I ruled out auditioning for **** flicks
I’m far to shy for all that.
I won’t be trying to make viral videos
Of adorable fuzzy little cats.
You won’t be hearing any hit songs
Written by me, myself and I.
I can’t carry a tune and can’t rhyme
So, right away I won’t even try.
I can’t paint and I can’t draw at all
So, I won’t be a world-class artist.
I won’t become a rocket scientist
In math I was never the smartest.
I'm not going to start some con game
And leave them all in the lurch.
Well, in a manner of speaking I am,
Because I'm starting a church.
I’ll spend tons of money on my home
And make a big flashy cathedral
Then spend lots of time bragging
How it’s all so very spiritual.
People will send me lots of cash thinking.
That will get them into heaven.
I’ll make more money selling God to them
Than owning a thousand 7-11s.
I’ll only need to convince my followers that
I have the get-out-of-hell-free card;
That I am the path to understanding God
And that just can’t be that hard.
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 6:02 AM UTC
He was sure she was elated
That joy welled up from her deep
After all that he'd fabricated
Bedtime stories before sleep
Little gestures just to keep her
Just to keep her up and coming
Taunting with his stingy morsels
So to make her blood keep running
Here and there he'd throw a bone
To his pricey-perfumed dog
Take a moment twice a month,
Toss a pearl to his hog
And the ruffled dog did good tricks
With no prospect of reward
For if just to please her best friend, man
To get a pat-down from her lord
See that kindled, foolborn spirit
Felt her lover loved her best
She rejected other outcomes
She ignored each of all the rest
And he let his pet keep twirling
Let her go jumping through rings
Though never really feeling proud of them
He was tickled by these things
So he sat upon his highness
As she mingled round his lap
And she felt so very special
To be his favorite place to nap
He liked to tell her bedtime stories
And leave out her favorite parts
So she could fill them in within her mind
While he left her in the dark
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 4:15 AM UTC
What makes you a poet
is it for you to make something and say you wrote it
what defines you as a writer
is it showing you're a fighter
I don't think the definition of an artist
comes from being the smartest
I think it takes a lot to put words on a page
maybe not necessarily to be brought upon a stage
What makes you a genius
because it's not grades nor brains
but something that falls on a level of understanding
Something about ones mind expanding
I don't expect the world to suddenly change and get better
but I do hope to be accepted as a trend setter
and I don't mean cute clothes
nice hair
or pricey looks
I mean some sort of trend that comes from the books
The idea of changing the world with your words
Well maybe not the world but just a few
to have an impact on even just one's view
whether you're a writer
artist or poet
make sure you use power in the words spoken
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 11:55 PM UTC
Constant staring at the mirror every minute till I feel dizzy and my eyes can't carry it out any longer.
Just standing there hoping the zits, dark spots will magically disappear
Each night,It's a daily routine of skin care,pampering the skin with pricey fade out creams, scrubs, even out and Popping doxycycline pills.
Why can't I have the perfect skin like girls my age?
'Just give it a bit of time, they'll go' they always say.
But what ******* time?
I'm tired of hiding it all beneath the foundations and concealers.
Even with makeup, I still feel the need to hide the ******* scars on my face marred by acne.
With these feelings of insecurity and self consciousness
There is a Daily reminder of how ugly and unlucky I am
I can't take it anymore
Acne is a curse.
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 8:50 AM UTC