"pukes" poems
I ate hot meals,
I brushed my teeth day and night,
I spent long hours on the mobile
with friends,
I wore well laundered clothings,
Not a single crease or a stain on them,
Before motherhood.
My home was ***** and span,
No stumbling on scattered toys,
No ***** window panes,
No tiny hands holding my skirts,
No one eagerly waiting for me on the doorsteps,
No spits,pukes, pees or poos to clean,
No teared eyes to wipe,
No tiny bundle to hold in my arms,
Getting love,warmth and satisfaction in return,
Before motherhood.
I was in control of myself,
Of my mind and thoughts,
Caretaker of my own body,
Spending hours to enhance my beauty,
To maintain grace and elegance,
Before motherhood.
Now I am a mum,
I don't mind if my hair is disheveled,
My house is a bit messy,
I am exhausted,
For the reward of a hug, a kiss
and those endearing words,"I
love you mum,you are the bestest." completes me.
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
I'm the Emperor and my face looks like a prune.
I have dark circles around my eyes which also makes me look like a raccoon.
My name is Palpatine but I'm also known as Darth Sidious.
Everybody pukes when they see me because I look hideous.
I was able to trick Anakin Skywalker into turning to the Dark Side.
I actually convinced him that I had the power to save his bride.
I can't believe that I was able to turn him into a Sith Lord as easily as I did.
He actually believed that he could save Padme by killing Separatists and kids.
I thought that my new Death Star was safe from the rebels, I thought that I had won.
But Darth Vader dropped me into the main reactor of the Death Star to save his son.
Luke Skywalker removed Lord Vader's mask and he became Anakin Skywalker again.
I still can't believe that those **** Ewoks were the reason why my Empire didn't win.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 5:19 PM UTC
is what i wear.
it is a loreal campaign offering the art of concealment
wrinkles are for unironed clothes and old folk homes
all creation and destruction spun from tomb
the glow emanating from a woman's womb
this spf
isn't always available for the wear
its not some cap we can slip on our hair
or the glasses we use to hide the despair
for our pimples have awoken from
their nightly slumber
allowing the light to
illuminate their number
best we take it all in
the midnight pukes
and
the morning glow
lets carry on with our dancing dynamo
all starry eyed and audacious
all messy and pugnacious
with our lips soaked in red
shouting words of poetic gibberish
to statuesque lovers
who spin in and out of the revolving door
as we sing our tune under helmets
under bleeding stars
and wind up with tattooed legs and arms
for there is a radiant rose in your brain
permanently blooming
against the ticking of time
as you stand in alliance
with lust and love alike
when they conveniently misplaced their pain
at the local bookstore
i can't imagine they'll go looking for it.
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 8:31 PM UTC
BOMB MARS NOW
BOMB MARS NOW
WE'VE GOT MEGATONS OF NUKES
LET'S GO BOMB THOSE MARTAIN PUKES
NOT IRAN, NOT A 'STAN AND NOT NORTH K,
LET'S USE OUR BOMBS ON MARS TODAY
BOMB MARS NOW
BOMB MARS NOW
THE MARTIANS HATE OUR WAY OF LIFE
THEY WANT TO **** YOUR KIDS AND WIFE
THEIR RELIGION THROWS HUMANS ON THEIR ***
LET'S TURN THEIR PLANET'S GROUND TO GLASS
BOMB MARS NOW
BOMB MARS NOW
BOMB MARS NOW
BOMB MARS NOW
Jun 15, 2011
Jun 15, 2011 at 8:48 PM UTC
Here I was,
pheromones **** in the chilly fall air,
tumbling about among the atoms and molecules of
oxygen and nitrogen and methane and gas
for any to stop and smell and--
*Please just grab my ***
The truest of lights
streams into my eyes,
blinds me and unclothes me,
throws off all of my lies and false feelings
and turns me into the soppy mess I am.
I stumble down the street,
tears blurring my vision;
"I'm going for a walk,"
I tell them,
"I'm going to find my friends."
They've all left me behind,
I tell myself.
I'm alone and trailing them
on this road of
***** and
tears.
I had wrapped up my hair,
worn the shortest of shorts,
drank until I couldn't think
and still--
and still I walked alone.
The lights of Columbus and
the crisp air of an
old country route
haunt my heart,
play hopscotch and
dress it up all
nice and tidy.
Whether a **** and
pulsating body
were against me or not,
would I be happy?
My body is fighting to break free
but my drunken mind
can't even manage that.
*Here I am,
world,
take me for all my
sloppy iniquities,*
I think, stumbling back to the house
from an adventure poorly spent.
He had gone
and so had him,
boy was done with
my foolish whims.
True love is hard to find
and true like is even harder
but sometimes it helps to just
sit back and think and
ignore the thunder
of thousands of people pushing down
on your weary, little head--
platonic attraction
just doesn't cut it, sometimes.
The mounties rear up and back
and I walk around;
a girl pukes her heart out and
I crush it into the dirt.
The door slams open and
all eyes rest upon me,
those drunken
and
judgmental
eyes.
Their gaze burns me,
catches me alight
in the unwavering flames
of social curiosity.
"Are you all right?"
they ask me.
I fall down instantly,
sink into the old oak floorboard,
melt into the grain and
become a vague pattern among
millions and millions of black and brown circles and lines--
"Yes,"
I answer,
"I'm perfectly fine."
Here I was,
sloppy and seeping onto the cold, hardwood floor.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 4:14 AM UTC
I see you trying to play the badass
In a Japanese car, I would have to
Only laugh and say you ain't going far
So many ******* juveniles clamor for this and that
They only have to ask their mommies and daddies
For **** that their too lazy to do themselves
Get me this, get me that
I want this, I want that
Christmas comes and they get it
Because if they don't they'll throw a fit
A ******* disrespectful fit to their parents
No kid has any ******* respect anymore
What the **** happen to respect your elders
No, they would rather steal from them
And push them out in front of a bus
I say punish these kids
Take away everything the parents bought for them
Because they feel guilty they didn't grow up with
Much of anything. And if that doesn't work
Use the ******* belt on these ungrateful pukes
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 2:38 PM UTC
She dragged her body across the room
Away from the steamy pile in my studio
“why does your japartment smell like spoiled cheese and
Sadness?”
Her speech sloppy as her movement
“because you vomited on my ******* floor!”
Her head spinning, she lurched forward
“I didn’t do that – must been you.”
She slurred, staring at her mess, smelling the fumes.
Swinging her head round, smacking the wall
She burped.
Why help the helpless? It’s hell.
An hour of her refusing clothes
Forcing her to dress like a toddler in my clothes
“I’m a goddess! I’m a goddess!” she bellowed.
“Yeah, but even Athena wore clothes.”
When you ***** in a toilet, it
Goes in a second – cleaning’s a breeze!
When someone pukes on your floor, it smells like sadness
And cheese,
Interesting how I remember my toilet bowl clearn
That night, resting my head on icy porcealan
Alone, isolated from friends usually there when I’m “unwell” in a toilet stall
After ally, why help the helpless? It’s hell.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
***No rest
for a lost boy
he knows no bounds
A journey he embarks
What he seeks
is yet found
A premature hatred
Like ******
He pukes
pain
from stomach
For weeks
he is weak
For days
he is dazed
Eyes vengefully blazed
bullets flew
grenades blew
Such beautiful lies
Unhappiest
of times
No disguising it
This child has lost
A dreadful crime
He executed
right along with his
mind***
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
in the beginning
was BamiBami
He the True God
the One God
He wanted everything for Himself
this BamiBami
so He weeded out all competition
and ate all the food at Cosmic Meat
Yum! Yum!
said BamiBami
*More! More!
Yum! Yum!*
and Mighty He fell sick
and He had no mother to make Him chicken soup
and He had no woman
to scream Him out of His Indisposition
But He had One Predisposition
and so He
vomited the Sun
and He vomited the Stars and the Planets
and the Cosmos
(and He vomited with such vehemence
the cosmos and the stars and space,
they’re still moving outward)
and then He turned round and He made one final *****
and He vomited the Earth and all its creatures
that includes you and me
and think about that,
that makes you puke
(say Hi Puke
to your fellow human pukes…)
and since then we’ve always puked
look around, and you’ll see the muck and puke
we’ve even gone nuke
All Praise be to BamiBami
He of the Divine Puke
and that’s how we got here
not by a fluke
but by a puke
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 9:45 AM UTC
work, and work, night and day
no sleep, no rest, no small getaway
sick, and sick, and violently ill
sick, still sick, pop a pill
dream, a dream, a beach so clear
dream, and dream, a sunbathed dear
warm, so warm, so smooth to touch
warm, so warm, so very much
sunbathed beauty, in the sand
sunbathed lover, take my hand
warm, so warm, almost too much
warm, and warm, i'm warm to touch
fever, haze, and dream awake
sick, so sick, more pills to take
drowsy, dizzy, daisy dukes
again, again, again she pukes
sleepy, sick, and a sunbathed beauty
this medicine is kind of fruity. . . .
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 2:50 AM UTC
"When did you get so thin?" they say it like it's a revelation like the gods from heaven had sent down a message to convey to the whole world and that message was conveyed in a girl and the numbers on her bathroom scale.
Smiling thinly I have to replay "good diet, good exercise" even tough deep down I know the reality and they know it too but I lie because how can you explain that the thing that gives you life is the thing that's killing you?
The good diet? Apparently might as not, apparently celery and gum is not a healthy way to make your body function, apparently no meals is not, apparently diet coke is not, apparently ice is not a way to live your life, but who wants to live mine anyway?
It's hard to convey that every bite adds on a stone and every meal is equal to 10 kilos I have to run off, till I trow up, till my **** is toned up, till my senses turn off and my heart gives up, because when I look in the mirror the girl I see is not the girl in me, the girl I see isn't a girl at all, she has no bones and no muscles, rather she has jelly around every bend of the body, every inch of it is filled with the word that becomes her, a word that she becomes.
Fat.
She's fat, she's ugly she's fat, she's fat, she's ugly, she is fat, she's just not that fat, she's fat, her stomach pukes when she eats, fat, her thighs jiggle when she walks, fat, her arms and legs can barely function, fat, she's always dizzy and cold, fat, her face is pale and she is that word. Fat.
Although people try, although they try to tell her that she's not, to help her, to save her, to rescue a girl that does not need rescuing, this girl does not need saving rather this girl needs a knife, a knife to cut away all her worries, to tear her lungs and bumps on her body until she has nothing left, nothing at all because nothing is perfect,
zero is perfection, zero meals, zero carbs, zero calories, zero kilos, zero efforts, zero voices, zero people in her head screaming, zero messages in her head gleaming whenever she eats, the evil ones that she deals with, the ones who stop her eating, the ones that know that every mouthful she eats she is no longer beautiful, she becomes that word, fat,
what torture could be worse than that?
Selfish, she's selfish, I'm selfish for believing that a few spare pounds is the worst thing that can happen to me.
People are reminding me constantly that how the nightmares I feed are not the ones to fear because I could get hit by a car, I could get harassed or stabbed, I could get a disease that can stop me from breathing, I could get kicked on to the streets an of course, of course these things are worse and terrible and horrible and bleak but at least in these circumstances I wouldn't have to eat.
The truth is I'm a jealous little girl in a world that doesn't care, I'm jealous of the people I see who weight less than I will be, I'm jealous of the people who don't eat that people don't see, I'm jealous of the scale, I'm jealous of nothing, I'm jealous of bones and vomits and pills of prescription and water and air and nothing.
So, "when did you get so thin?" they say it like it's a revelation because how can they begin to see that the thing that gives me life is the thing that's killing me.
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
Psychic soul suckers
Narcissistic little *****
Poetry for pukes
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 1:32 AM UTC
She watches **** at 3am, and has both ******* pierced
her nails are like white roses
and her palms like the thorn of every flower dead or alive
I feel like if I *** in her mouth she'll keep me inside her forever
I have to google "how to get hard" with every girl that's not her
she's a dead head, barley leaves her bed
keeps a rusted flask under her pillow
and a knife to rip her beat up wrist
there's nothing glorifying about her image
It isn't beautiful the way she pukes on the floor and can never find bandaids
and on sunny days she'll get this feeling in her stomach
that makes her run to the nearest drug store frantically pushing everything out of the counters, looking for scar cream
when she goes long enough without sleep she'll text everyone she knows an apology for something she did three years ago
and I will always love her, but I cannot marry pills and blood
and all the people know her as a crazy, crying *****
she was born with a different heart beat
as she was counting days left, the other little girls were counting sheep
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 5:49 PM UTC
Nine Lives (Cat From Hell)
I have a cat that just wont die,
trust me, I gave it the old college try.
It pukes, pees and poops on the floor,
brings dead animals to my front door.
I've dropped him off many of miles,
but it always comes back after awhile's.
No food or water for many of weeks,
my water bed now has many leaks.
Killing this cat is so **** tricky,
whenever I **** it, he comes back like Little Nicky.
Poisoned its food with lots of cyanide,
into the window it would collide.
Stabbed it twice, buried it in the yard,
but in like Pet Sematary, this cat will die hard.
Ran it over and over with my truck,
he just makes me look like a schmuck.
Tried to drown it in my bath tub,
this cat belongs to the nine lives club.
Every morning, I wake up in my own blood,
it laughs at me while he smokes my last bud.
He breathes fire from its meowing mouth,
he definitely came from the deep south.
I'm like Tom, he's like Jerry,
its favorite drink is a ****** Mary.
I once even fed him to my dog,
next day it came back inside a brown log.
I've punched it hard, and kicked it far,
this hell cat is the most bizarre.
Tried killing it with a single gun shot,
burned it with water that was boiling hot.
No matter what I tried it wouldn't work,
he always made me look like a stupid ****
I even burned down my own house,
there he was carrying out a dead mouse.
My whole body burning from cat scratch fever,
I chopped off its head with a sharp meat cleaver.
Put it in a huge *** and made some cat chop suey,
it tasted bad and very gooey.
After that day, I felt scratching from the inside,
two weeks later, internal bleeding is how I died.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 8:45 PM UTC
And that polar bear was my friend
Never understanding the migration patterns,
Of which there are none; stand still and live.
Polar bears are meant to adapt to the cold,
The biting air and piercing words of others.
When life pukes on your ice, eat it,
That is what polar bears do... right?
I can be that warm coat to protect you, day,
And night, claws that rip and tear.
I would love to be there for you,
And that polar bear was my friend.
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 3:01 PM UTC
Feeling you oh my world unjust
from matter grey growing old.
intellect chaotic in cruelty killed
mercies all dead in hearts chilled
for morsels of humanity,ravenous.
with tidbits of graces small ecstatic.
despaired for a dreamy mirage afar
in flaming greed's do I slowly char.
smoky guns rattle dealing out ******
whining chainsaws balding green all
very wombs earthy tremble with nukes
elements all so impure,one just pukes
men in name only **** with rebukes.
all of us many brutalize one world just!
flowing from nooks of a spirit noble
my tears, moistening heart,well in eyes
unseeing and drop silently on earth ******
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
If you think you're about to read something nice
think again.
This is the worst thing you've ever read,
written by the psychotic alive.
It had to be clarified he isn't dead
because he's actually rotting under my skin.
Oozing out like moldy cheese left in the sun,
sprouting hairs and covered in *****
Everyone who looks at me pukes on me,
violently.
Getting it in my eyes, and up my nose,
until I choke on it and suffocate.
Dying repeatedly in a murderous loop
of zombie corpse mutation.
The third time dying makes me hungry,
I smell food in your bedroom.
Crawling across the floor in the dark,
you cant hear a sound,
my phantom ghastly body secret.
Underneath your bed I will be waiting till you sleep,
the moment your eyes close out I will peek.
Stare at you in the dark,
grin down upon you,
in shadow.
I am famished,
you look good enough to eat.
Everyone wakes up at the first bite,
screaming as blood splatters across the room.
Rip your voice box out while you're still awake
and kicking.
Reach my hand right down your throat
and ****** it.
**** your eyes out while I'm at it,
they're gooey and delicious.
Human beings are nutritious.
I work quickly yet painfully,
your nightmares should
be afraid of me.
I'm coming after you...
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 1:20 AM UTC
i would know
when my heart sinks
im listening to one of
the six songs that you played
pulling right into the handicap
thanks for the placard
creak open the drivers side
and waft into the carcasses
beetles flown in for late spring
jangle at the door lets me know
im home
phone and off
litter in hand
sirens
not the kindly looking ones
the ones that make you shake
by hands
arms
heart
drive home to hold him
(or her depending on your mood)
but the child...
where are you
not here
as he pukes
and giggles
i dont weep for you
or his continence
for us instead
and the way you bathe
i dont need to talk
now
anymore
this is not about love
and so on
what am i to you
something trivial
dont deny it
what else would curdle my veins
love?
or this nom de plume
the response to it?
no
its how i cant be with you
its how you deny what i offer
its what i offer to all the people
that can read
when can i expect all you offer
how soon can i cease my own denial
very soon
i hope
pick me up
carry me to the threshold
so that i might carry you
right the **** back in
i beg
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 12:16 AM UTC
"You're drunk
you
need it." - Lykke Li.
Don't puke
this time,
make it the seed
instead of the giving earth.
The earth pukes in fire,
and that hurts the belly.
Trust me when I say
I'm stupid,
and that I'm staying.
I have been with Heather,
I have been with Carolyn,
I have been with Gnat,
I have been with Yolanda.
I have ****** all of them.
Every single one
has not touched
as fatally
as you
and you have undone
the ropes
inside of me.
The unbound package
is
disaster.
It signals the death of promise.
But it gives in the lighthouse
of love.
I cross the fog,
I trample
the destinations
of rain,
I laugh at thunder.
No storm is greater than
you.
So replace me,
disown me,
hate me.
I love you,
and that will not leave
in the night,
like werewolves
after dawn.
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 9:36 PM UTC
I'd like to be
Bukowski today,
I'd like
to get a good **** in
before
dusk,
and a good drink in
at some point,
I've wanted some Wild Turkey
more than anything.
A good ****
when done right
without
the spring-loaded
traps of love,
just *******
until your body swells,
can make you come
for days,
and a good drink
is good for washing out
sadness as it pukes dramamine
in your stomach,
and Bukowski for a day
would be a lemon.
This is pretentious
as **** I am a
pretentious ****
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 8:50 AM UTC
The lines are sharp and they lacerate
My brain is dull and can’t actuate
Pop the amphetamine and wait for the kick
To make me less useless, to make me less sick
Society pukes itself seeking the grade
And gives up the children, a foolish trade
Mechanical education will only build robots
Those heartless automatons, terminator and whatnot
Smash the machine, rip out the circuit
Infuriated by the pressure to be perfect
Burn the tests, incinerate the scale
Eliminate the concept of pass or fail
Make everything new.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 4:39 PM UTC
*You don't know the real me. I don't know the real me. I only know the parts.
Do you know the part of me who has no feelings, who feels no pain, that part of me who does not love? Do you know that part of me who survives despite the struggle not too? She punishes me, that woman. She will take everything I have and make it disappear. She will take it because she knows I can’t be trusted not to cave in emotionally. She is empty and she wants me to be empty. She feels nothing, less, than nothing, and she wishes to disappear. She will hurt me but she feels no pain. She wants to hurt, to be hurt, because she deserves the pain – she deserves to be hurt. She takes care of no one and expects no one to care for her.
Do you know the part of me who is explosive & raucous? The one who speaks before she thinks? Have you met the angry girl who spews venom on the rest of us…unconsciously yet fortuitous like a loud crash? Her words are frenzied; they engulf and hinder, they get in the way. And yet she is full of them…poisonous words that she is unable to contain. Her lashing anger is knee-jerk and reckless, her words cut like knives.
Do you know the part of me who has emotions so overwhelming that her very presence chokes the life out of me? The part of me who vomits to get out the feelings of dirt and shame…she pukes until she is empty and even when there is nothing left, she cannot breathe. She used to be the strong one, but now she is weak. She is easily overwhelmed and she cuts herself to feel her emotional pain in a physical way, a way that makes more sense to her.
Have you met the whiny little brat? The 5 year old brat who weighs me down, overwhelms me with her needy dependence…Her feelings consume me, envelop me, and I can no longer hear myself because she* GETS IN THE WAY! None of the others like her. She just needs so much! She can’t even take care of herself. She wears her weakness, her sadness…like a coat of arms. She is pathetic! She is the reason we are where we are – because SHE *was the weak one, the one who couldn’t resist him. This is all her fault!
I have been betrayed, abused, and broken. I feel there is nothing inside of me holding me up…soon I will crumble like cinders…dirty worthless ash. Leave me alone because alone is where I am safe. Alone is where I want to be. Alone is where I can take care of myself. But the rest of you, the freaks inside of me?*
GO AWAY! *All of you! Go away! You all consume me and I can no longer feel me. I feel like there’s a cord tied around my neck and each of you want to pull the noose a little tighter, drag me down. You want me to weaken, so you can control me. You are all like an Achilles Heel – you all drag me down until I can no longer breathe.
Please go away. Please leave me alone.*
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 7:34 PM UTC
I just want to destroy.
Vanish all you conquerors,
You don't belong here,
I just want to be alone.
Thinking, reflecting in the back seat of the car,
As time passes by in a crystallized disunity,
I believe I was meant to be here,
Today as I am, hating so ravenously.
What if I controlled your lives at my finger tips,
What would I do?
I am not a happy person...
I think for the best but... I just want one day.
You don't understand,
Well that is fine with me,
This is my poem not yours,
The heat that courses within me.
Why it's a beast,
And it's just been born,
Now waiting to be fed,
Feed it, feed me, let me consume.
Flames now surround the world,
And I cry without tears,
My body pukes without bile,
And I die without death,
A rebirth of hellish proportions,
Is this what you expected?
I'm not supposed to be here though.
I- am not supposed to be a man yet,
It hurts.
Is anyone coming?
I wish I wasn't alone anymore.
Its cold now.
I was wrong.
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 9:28 PM UTC