"priss" poems
with disciplined guilt
i can spill a kind of pornographic hemorrhage
provoking a spell into the mind
deluge
a spiel
so many illicit thoughts to priss a label on
laxed into this state
i imagine my punishments
received in swollen glory
and in turn for this ungated imagination
i may earn further punishment
(no glory / dunce / head hung)
skirting dirt for promise
opening the aperture to the wild dark woods
and beyond natures primal propeller
seeking out opportunities for submission
under a church weight
of my own mined and kinkled cranium
Sep 15, 2022
Sep 15, 2022 at 9:13 PM UTC
For a friend that's not a tool
And for a friend who somewhat likes pools
I love you like a sis
And I'm glad your not a priss
Your always there for me
Even if I'm being a be-
I'm glad I have you in my life
Even if you'd never be my wife
Your the best person in this universe
even if it is diverse
I will never leave you nor we I lie
And I shall hold this true till I die
even if death do us part
And even if I ****
I know you'll never go away
Even if were faraway!
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
My book shook and look!
A crook which is sure to hook
onto some **** which doth
hang out randomly
like a dress out your car door.
I am shy with my
high and dry status
the why? I am not sure
But I vie and cry and
Lie and try to
Do more.
This will kiss the
Enterance pages of its
inspiration: Bliss.
Titled, this **** and griss miss
Priss diss this list and hiss
Like snakely Chris
Who is in Fresno
Hiss.
Hiss.
Kiss.
This is my bliss....
BLISS POEM I.
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 6:59 PM UTC
My last memory of…you
I drove all the way through town, chain-smoking through half
my pack as I burned deep inside from stoking the ashed embers of a fire
I had attempted to smother before it burned us both out after it had licked
Its way up my whole body—
But I reveled in how it ate me from the
deepest
inside while I let the tobacco
consume the healthy volume of my lungs leaving me breathless which I prayed
would either make you notice the red in my cheeks
or make you worry about me
in contrast from the systematic silence that had deafened our
friendship and scarred
any possibility of our future, but
when I got there you told me to drop the habit so it didn’t linger in my hair.
You also pointed out where the butts had rubbed away my lipstick and with a look that made
me want to smack
you across the face, but
also crush your lips
with mine because it
deepened your gaze
and sharpened your jaw
instead I said I’d gladly put the rest on you. Your friends, the Miss Priss Brigade,
saw chipped nail polish and slightly dull skin and last summer’s leftovers and I knew
we’d never end up
unfiltered and imperfect in the barely industrialized studio flirtingly touching
and kissing and dreaming and enchanting ourselves with the what-ifs of a future
we saw through wine glasses worn
by teenagers who didn’t know love from illusion.
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 7:14 PM UTC
I know it’s a strong word,
And it shouldn’t be said
But it’s always the first one
To pop to my head.
When I see her words
Written
A C R O S S
Your page,
I can’t help but get a little enraged.
She’s a priss,
She’s princess
She’s all show
And NO bound.
She think’s she’s got it all
Now that your back in town.
You’re up for grabs,
A perfect new bite,
And I think your trying to protect her from my might.
Well don’t worry
I’ll scurry.
I’ll pretend I don’t see.
Your free like a bird,
Just like me.
-ALC December 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC
**** every no
Ever said to me
**** every glare I get in the hallway
**** her
And her fat body
I hate all of them
Every single one of them
Who proudly wear their
"im fake!" sticker
Like its a blue ribbon
I don't give a ****
So **** you
**** all of you
I don't care
I got my friends
I got my girl
That's all I need
So all that judgement
Can go straight up your fat ***
And all that priss and ***** and moan
Can go up there too
I hate you
**** you
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 3:40 AM UTC
(Leeza, my roommate Lisa’s little sister, was off-tha-hook earlier this summer)
thirteen
peach flesh
fabuk buster
nu-metal priss
sexless *******
bitten fingernails
***** babyskin feet
mirror mesmerized
straight-eyed honesty
grouchapottamus
without analysis
corollary sister
wide eyed
hot mess
skinny
pacer
bella
doe
Jul 23, 2023
Jul 23, 2023 at 10:27 PM UTC
My book shook and look!
A crook which is sure to hook
onto some **** which doth
hang out randomly
like a dress out your car door.
I am shy with my
high and dry status
the why? I am not sure
But I vie and cry and
Lie and try to
Do more.
This will kiss the
Enterance pages of its
inspiration: Bliss.
Titled, this **** and griss miss
Priss diss this list and hiss
Like snakely Chris
Who is in Fresno
Hiss.
Hiss.
Kiss.
This is my bliss....
BLISS POEM I.
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 6:59 PM UTC
It's a straight and narrow path, well defined,
yours was content next to mine.
Hers to the right, his to the left, the intersections a veritable mess.
When you treat me, be kind, I know I've crossed over my lines and into yours, but southern hospitality is what you're known for.
Pour me a drink, kind stranger, this is stranger than anything I've known before.
And I'm a guest, I get it, but I doubt you can get me out of your head.
I'm enjoying the tour though, my friend.
I'm from the straight laced, early morning-late night, stick up your *** uptight class of those with grand plans of Ivy leagues and shaking hands with presidents and world class scholars,
and you from a more relaxed, kicked back, slow motion, 2.0 kind of world, surprising we get on so well.
It's probably the wee bit of **** in between us, because normally, the way you speak would have gotten you knocked on your ***
instead I laughed.
So when our paths cross again, both a little wider, more winding,
remind me of the time we had and please, do come again,
Priss and ***** Mench and shmuck, thanks for hosting such a cliche new friend.
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 7:12 PM UTC
*It takes the night,
but You'll arrive.*
Had you really done us any favors I could have seen past the subtlety of your jaundiced smile.
Callused by plumes of worthless words.
Skimming the surface of all your smoke.
but
Instead I wrote you off to cheap whiskey.
-P.S.
Insatiable appetites often linger,
Pallets often deviate.
Your breath said menthol priss,
But I couldnt hear it over the sound
of your skin screaming bliss.
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC
throat you rip is mine
princess of the day
ever gushing viper
stabbing things astray
walk the black you pave
with your shining lies
you will ride the post
impaled and harbor flies
did it all for daddy
found the perfect one
watch you priss in fire
see your glowing fun
hair that grips so nicely
blouse with designer tag
will have to use my foot
to stuff you in this bag
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:36 AM UTC
throat you rip is mine
princess of the day
ever gushing viper
stabbing things astray
walk the black you pave
with your shining lies
you will ride the post
impaled and harbor flies
did it all for daddy
found the perfect one
watch you priss in fire
see your glowing fun
hair that grips so nicely
blouse with designer tag
will have to use my foot
to stuff you in this bag
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 11:29 AM UTC
#**Six to Twelve
(My Big Sister)**
My sister,
she’s a silly ol’ priss.
Know what she did?
She gave her boyfriend a kiss!
Blech! Doesn’t she know
boys are just yucky?
Doesn’t she know
they’ll make you buggy?
We used to do things together,
my sister and me.
We’d play in our yard
And climb up our tree.
But now when my sister
Arrives home from school,
She calls up her boyfriend.
She thinks she’s SO cool.
She giggles and whispers
Closed up in her room.
She stays there forever!
Well…
All afternoon.
She’s acting so silly.
It must be a stage.
But I won’t be like that!
When I get to her age!
**Twelve to Six
(My Little Sister)**
My little sister,
she’s such a pest.
She goofs off in the morning
when she needs to get dressed.
She has to be reminded
to brush her teeth and her hair.
I have to tell her what to do sometimes
and even what to wear.
She can really get in my way.
I want to be serious,
but she wants to play.
I wonder will she ever grow up?
Will she be cool like me?
I know I was her age one time
but I was more grown up, you see!
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 9:20 AM UTC
If I were a replicant,
I'd definitely
look at things differently.
I don't know exactly
what I'd do specifically,
but I guarantee you this,
I would live each day to the fullest,
empty my bucket continuously.
And one thing's for sure,
Priss would be my girl,
she rocked it.
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
I don't consent,
I won't consent.
I know I said it was okay,
that I wanted to see where this would go.
I know I said that I was chill,
that I was ready, that there was no need to go slow.
But now I'm saying
Stop.
I'm saying I don't want it, want you, want this-
even if that makes me some sort of priss.
I'm saying step off,
and don't come back.
I'm not asking for a break,
you can't make up for what you lack.
I know I said I'd be down,
that I would be willing to try-
but boy, that's before I found my crown,
before I realized that it wasn't normal, how much you make me cry.
I won't tolerate any more teardrops, not in my sky.
So leave. Now.
Please.
Goodbye.
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 8:18 PM UTC