Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"quadruple" poems
please do not serve me **** pie on a silver platter! oh, your unfamiliar with this type of pie?!! it is the kind that is hot & fresh with buried lies and deceits colored scented to seem sweet. Please, I do ask that you not serve this dish to me! I see through and know there are many many layers covering the other so I tell you do not serve to me              **** pie on a silver platter!!           Just be straightforward then we are good and clear as long as you are a truth teller you will have nothing to bury or hide baked         into quadruple **** layered sphincter pie so keep it straight         and girls won't hate but we will test and figure things,         So go with caution just as long as we don't sniff a whiff        being served to us by you via silver splat oh oops, that was your face oh-oh. SorryNotSorry bout that!
0
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 1:25 PM UTC
Do not serve me Sh*t pie
if you stop following the rules they say you have disorder even if it's just a little bit and they can't pinpoint who you are to them borderline personality disorder everything's either evil, or good people are placed in categories to the extreme then it calms down it's called hyper mood swing bi polar tri polar quadruple by pass aint savin me **** the rules manic impressive your diagnosis is depressive can't handle a little love a little chat a little quiet some existence you can't see or feel hyperbole turned real is a psychopath's mind errrr i'm like a dog on a leash waitin to bite the first ************ i see if he acts up
0
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
Crazy
I hadn't cried in years. I was always taught that strength was not having the courage to let yourself feel but ******* it up, holding it in. I am sick of "You're going soft on us, honey" Today I came to understand that you are completely okay with writing the same poem over and over again. This is a metaphor for the way you ****** her in my bed. This is a metaphor for the night you copy and pasted love letters. This is a metaphor for what really happened- I never fall in the same place twice. Except when I do. I think the critical difference between the two of us, critical because there are many differences but- I think our hamartia, our fatal flaw, our end scene is this: if people didn't like my poetry, if nobody listened, if I walked out on stage and nobody snapped their fingers, I would still write for just your eyes. I would still cramp my crooked, birth defect, quadruple jointed fingers writing to you about the nights you loved me back, for a minute there you loved me back. And you loved 20,000 other people back. And you loved small towns back and big cities back and the entire west coast back when you drove through, making temporary homes out of people who should have been permanent and I loved you. And I hadn't cried in years. Not because I wasn't sad, but because I was taught that showing emotion was weakness. So if my father made me memorize the How To's of strength, if I were going by the book, today I'd be so fragile you could say hello and I'd shatter so suddenly you'd forget you were the one that let go.
0
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
don't snap
I hadn't cried in years. I was always taught that strength was not having the courage to let yourself feel but ******* it up, holding it in. I am sick of "You're going soft on us, honey" Today I came to understand that you are completely okay with writing the same poem over and over again. This is a metaphor for the way you ****** her in my bed. This is a metaphor for the night you copy and pasted love letters. This is a metaphor for what really happened- I never fall in the same place twice. Except when I do. I think the critical difference between the two of us, critical because there are many differences but- I think our hamartia, our fatal flaw, our end scene is this: if people didn't like my poetry, if nobody listened, if I walked out on stage and nobody snapped their fingers, I would still write for just your eyes. I would still cramp my crooked, birth defect, quadruple jointed fingers writing to you about the nights you loved me back, for a minute there you loved me back. And you loved 20,000 other people back. And you loved small towns back and big cities back and the entire west coast back when you drove through, making temporary homes out of people who should have been permanent and I loved you. And I hadn't cried in years. Not because I wasn't sad, but because I was taught that showing emotion was weakness. So if my father made me memorize the How To's of strength, if I were going by the book, today I'd be so fragile you could say hello and I'd shatter so suddenly you'd forget you were the one that let go.
Continue reading...
36
mmm, palce lizać, albo wsadzić je w dúpe i nadawać sygnał wriggly-wriggly alter: wriggly-pigglety; counter-alt? calling it: the miracle of five croutons, and two pieces of sushi... c'mon, let's go crazy! and take it to the excesses permitted by the original feat! (yes, i mean the fish parts of sushi, there's enough carbohydrates in the croutons, so yes, no rice-bed for the tartars).                                        ć is the puritan's aversion to cz / chai;                                        or at least an exfoliation curbor. i write honey, honey honey honey, i write honey, honey honey honey p'ooh bear droned in on it. when i write, i write honey, honey honey O'Milee. from serving in the US and A navy, to a beach-buggy accident. when i write, i write honey -        *** e - Atilla styled liquorice -   lee co reesh - not liquidated rice - ghosts of latin almost everywhere; quadruple that. convene and converse - contrary             collective. some say this might as well be the famous goldberg sardines; when i write, i write honey, i write: honey honey honey...       will you be my Duracell bunny? honey, will you be my    ******** par excellance? i see... no, you won't be. the museum of Greek sculpture was vandalised!     guess what they took, the ****** fiendish crooks! with a wet splash of colour comes the cold marble artifice - a bit like the cool-mouth refrigerator of a woman during felatio... still don't know how she gets that gob down below room temperature.     (heresy input, never start a sentence with an)          and there you have it,                   writing, catering for abstractionism, just after he said: they're on a diet.
0
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 10:49 AM UTC
five croutons and two pieces of sushi
mmm, palce lizać, albo wsadzić je w dúpe i nadawać sygnał wriggly-wriggly alter: wriggly-pigglety; counter-alt? calling it: the miracle of five croutons, and two pieces of sushi... c'mon, let's go crazy! and take it to the excesses permitted by the original feat! (yes, i mean the fish parts of sushi, there's enough carbohydrates in the croutons, so yes, no rice-bed for the tartars).                                        ć is the puritan's aversion to cz / chai;                                        or at least an exfoliation curbor. i write honey, honey honey honey, i write honey, honey honey honey p'ooh bear droned in on it. when i write, i write honey, honey honey O'Milee. from serving in the US and A navy, to a beach-buggy accident. when i write, i write honey -        *** e - Atilla styled liquorice -   lee co reesh - not liquidated rice - ghosts of latin almost everywhere; quadruple that. convene and converse - contrary             collective. some say this might as well be the famous goldberg sardines; when i write, i write honey, i write: honey honey honey...       will you be my Duracell bunny? honey, will you be my    ******** par excellance? i see... no, you won't be. the museum of Greek sculpture was vandalised!     guess what they took, the ****** fiendish crooks! with a wet splash of colour comes the cold marble artifice - a bit like the cool-mouth refrigerator of a woman during felatio... still don't know how she gets that gob down below room temperature.     (heresy input, never start a sentence with an)          and there you have it,                   writing, catering for abstractionism, just after he said: they're on a diet.
Continue reading...
50
Upon the arboreal dozed and limb, Extended coccyx serpentine loose, Throne of inspection, tenet and dumb Stillness hunts akin stealthy Mongoose; Except for the natal locomotive Soft deep sufficiently immense purr Emanating from some industry; effective In the cover of the thick supple fur. The lord of his unconquered empire, Thrives on flesh and quenches on milk, Wintering unperturbed reading the fire That flickers, gleaming his bed of silk. Ever landing on appendage quadruple Acrobatic athlete not soiling once his back Consummating in strict concealment marble Couch of perpetual indulgence buried black.
0
Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 5:35 AM UTC
THE CAT
we did not Dye in vain! by michael r. burch (from “songs of the sea snails”) though i’m just a slimy crawler, my lineage is proud: my forebears gave their lives (oh, let the trumps blare loud!) so purple-mantled Royals might stand out in a crowd. i salute you, fellow loyals, who labor without scruple as your incomes fall while deficits quadruple to swaddle unjust Lords in bright imperial purple! Originally published by The American Dissident Notes: In ancient times the purple dye produced from the secretions of purpura mollusks (sea snails) was known as “Tyrian purple,” “royal purple” and “imperial purple.” It was greatly prized in antiquity, and was very expensive according to the historian Theopompus: “Purple for dyes fetched its weight in silver at Colophon.” Thus, purple-dyed fabrics became status symbols, and laws often prevented commoners from possessing them. The production of Tyrian purple was tightly controlled in Byzantium, where the imperial court restricted its use to the coloring of imperial silks. A child born to the reigning emperor was literally porphyrogenitos ("born to the purple") because the imperial birthing apartment was walled in porphyry, a purple-hued rock, and draped with purple silks. Royal babies were swaddled in purple; we know this because the iconodules, who disagreed with the emperor Constantine about the veneration of images, accused him of defecating on his imperial purple swaddling clothes! Keywords/Tags: royal, purple, imperial, Tyrian, Byzantium, porphyry, swaddling, clothes, porphyrogenitos, mollusks, sea snails, royalty, kings, lords, emperors, popes
0
Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 4:35 AM UTC
we did not Dye in vain!
we did not Dye in vain! by michael r. burch (from “songs of the sea snails”) though i’m just a slimy crawler, my lineage is proud: my forebears gave their lives (oh, let the trumps blare loud!) so purple-mantled Royals might stand out in a crowd. i salute you, fellow loyals, who labor without scruple as your incomes fall while deficits quadruple to swaddle unjust Lords in bright imperial purple! Originally published by The American Dissident Notes: In ancient times the purple dye produced from the secretions of purpura mollusks (sea snails) was known as “Tyrian purple,” “royal purple” and “imperial purple.” It was greatly prized in antiquity, and was very expensive according to the historian Theopompus: “Purple for dyes fetched its weight in silver at Colophon.” Thus, purple-dyed fabrics became status symbols, and laws often prevented commoners from possessing them. The production of Tyrian purple was tightly controlled in Byzantium, where the imperial court restricted its use to the coloring of imperial silks. A child born to the reigning emperor was literally porphyrogenitos ("born to the purple") because the imperial birthing apartment was walled in porphyry, a purple-hued rock, and draped with purple silks. Royal babies were swaddled in purple; we know this because the iconodules, who disagreed with the emperor Constantine about the veneration of images, accused him of defecating on his imperial purple swaddling clothes! Keywords/Tags: royal, purple, imperial, Tyrian, Byzantium, porphyry, swaddling, clothes, porphyrogenitos, mollusks, sea snails, royalty, kings, lords, emperors, popes
Continue reading...
18
Welfare check savings and Aston Martin dreams. Mix quadruple entendres in cereal bowl with tap water and eat for breakfast. Lend half a knee to the ground and kiss the blue sky a bitter hallelujah. Send prayers with naked eyes to the third Christ, after all, we are supposed to be our ancestors sci-fi.
0
Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 10:35 PM UTC
Jeremiad
Upon the arboreal dozed and limb, Extended coccyx serpentine loose, Throne of inspection, tenet and dumb Stillness hunts akin stealthy Mongoose; Except for the natal locomotive Soft deep sufficiently immense purr Emanating from some industry; effective In the cover of the thick supple fur. The lord of his unconquered empire, Thrives on flesh and quenches on milk, Wintering unperturbed reading the fire That flickers, gleaming his bed of silk. Ever landing on appendage quadruple Acrobatic athlete not soiling once his back Consummating in strict concealment marble Couch of perpetual indulgence buried black
0
Feb 13, 2012
Feb 13, 2012 at 6:46 AM UTC
THE CAT
There exists a mystical and quadruple representation of words, which is likened to a dictatorial Superstate, where translation is subject to that which is spoken, heard, written and read within the context of trans-national capitalism. As we gaze from beyond the glow of the pulsating circumference, we can humbly acknowledge the ludicrous predicament of the many who are ruled by the few. The parameters of this earthen citizenship may be somewhat characterized by embracing the perceived benefits of the system and a state of financially intoxicated anosognosia. However, as we traverse this metaphysical cataclysm where the majority votes of public arrangement diametrically oppose absolute law and that which is deemed to be reasonable; our compulsory co-operation self-regulates with a cardiovascular beat of semantic propaganda and monopolized dissention, where the relinquished rights of our revered forefathers have been re-written by coercive legislators in the name of socio-political equality. The philosophy of meaning and political expression both buries into and removes her gorgeous face from the cuniform textures of Sahara catacombs, where we ****** relate and disengage from the **** with tyranny.
0
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 12:43 AM UTC
A Voluntary and Sophisticated Conformity?
high finance and terror you had half a job the commissioner made a huge mistake where words just disappear oh do help the rich and well-connected they need you careful that your boss does not see you favoriting my tweets unstar! unstar! panic! panic! social media illiteracy bio: follow or **** off **** the king of hearts quadruple cheeseburger acidic fruits keep chugging harm on y a night of debauchery in the works our minds refueled with petroleum entropy hour with free golden shower where truth gnaws at your legs but you continue walking human irrationality gets beaten to a pulp by bot rationality how bland and discordant getting them drawn and quartered humanity can do without us that **** poet saw the egg hatch into regrets **** the only one who cares manufacturing awkward silences and making a killing what the hell is anergy miss world virginity 2012 what have we done ghost eating humans or some **** like that someone already thought of that funny thing you wanted to say your timeline can beat my timeline mute only the users who make too much sense the epitome of trying too hard and then coronal mass ejection all the over the place you know this goes nowhere so you want out no more outreach from this point on shredded the flow chart too much in the projects exit stage down
0
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 8:37 PM UTC
employment
So there's this new fad diet The Diet of Worms..... Can you tell me bout it doc? Is it good for your health? And I don't quite understand. Is it the worms we eat or do we eat dirt and sand?   In any case it sounds expensive.   10+% of everything I earn? And you have to commit your entire life or according to this pamphlet "your soul will surely burn"?  Wow...must really work!   But tell me has the FDA approved, found the claims to be true?  Any side effects, complications? Could I possibly turn blue?   And why were no American researchers and experts on the team that concocted this diet? OK OK doc I'll let you talk, I'll be quiet...... "I've taken it on faith that my patients who've tried it swear that its a miracle....I have no personal experience with it ...give it a shot who knows it might work.". Hmmmm OK. "But I heard they have a litany of products so beware that your investment doesn't soon quadruple in size." Thanks for the visit doc, Ill take it under advice.  I think I might....... especially if there's a refund if I don't like it after trying it and don't think it worth the price.
0
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 7:07 AM UTC
Diet of Worms
I am going to die Someone tripped my breaker I swim in the sparks Thinner lines of longitude Meet tangentially above The third eye. A veil is dropped and I See the spinning mandala Colors drip in lateral formations Each line crosses Infinitely deep in every direction Bisecting me Pay attention now You are dying You will tear through the veil ******* in the first breath Cold air The buzzing is around you Warm glowing life forms They sing songs! Music of shape and color Cyan and lilac notes Fluttering from their bodies Their songs spark and lightning Through my body filling me with joysorrowlustpainguiltecstacy Arcing off of my skin Leaving long gaseous, crimson-green trails through the buzz of light Watch me! Look at this Do you see what I can do? Do you see, young one? The souls gather around me Whispering the secret of the ****** We laugh together at the simplicity of it all They show me their playthings shaped Totem poles of fractal colors impossibly Spinning on a string of deoxyribonucleic acid Quadruple helices infinitely intricate strands Dripping diamonds in hues of color I cannot name It didn't last long Knowing the secret of it all Go back now To your bed Back to your dimension Don't try to remember us We are multidimensional Children casting tridemensional Shadow puppets upon your dimly lit cave walls Oh Demon! Oh archangel! Oh fairy! Ghost! You foolish primate Smearing your cave walls with words Try to figure us out, shall you? We are forgotten like a dream Stop Stop Stop The walls are alien And the impossible Shattered bloom on each surface Sing and vibrate It feels as If I have been here before. As if it has always been but I am  allowed to see behind the curtain Join the club Join the club We vibrate inside plant matter Inside each atom we dance Recreate us in your mind's eye dearest vertebrate Watch us swim in and out of your memories We have left our fingerprints upon the archaic machinery Of your central nervous system We are here You are here We are everywhere stop looking We probe and poke at you And sometimes we ancient-ones bend down and kiss you on the lips You strange humans always exclaiming:  Déjà vu
0
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 10:23 PM UTC
Sunday School for the Infinite
I am going to die Someone tripped my breaker I swim in the sparks Thinner lines of longitude Meet tangentially above The third eye. A veil is dropped and I See the spinning mandala Colors drip in lateral formations Each line crosses Infinitely deep in every direction Bisecting me Pay attention now You are dying You will tear through the veil ******* in the first breath Cold air The buzzing is around you Warm glowing life forms They sing songs! Music of shape and color Cyan and lilac notes Fluttering from their bodies Their songs spark and lightning Through my body filling me with joysorrowlustpainguiltecstacy Arcing off of my skin Leaving long gaseous, crimson-green trails through the buzz of light Watch me! Look at this Do you see what I can do? Do you see, young one? The souls gather around me Whispering the secret of the ****** We laugh together at the simplicity of it all They show me their playthings shaped Totem poles of fractal colors impossibly Spinning on a string of deoxyribonucleic acid Quadruple helices infinitely intricate strands Dripping diamonds in hues of color I cannot name It didn't last long Knowing the secret of it all Go back now To your bed Back to your dimension Don't try to remember us We are multidimensional Children casting tridemensional Shadow puppets upon your dimly lit cave walls Oh Demon! Oh archangel! Oh fairy! Ghost! You foolish primate Smearing your cave walls with words Try to figure us out, shall you? We are forgotten like a dream Stop Stop Stop The walls are alien And the impossible Shattered bloom on each surface Sing and vibrate It feels as If I have been here before. As if it has always been but I am  allowed to see behind the curtain Join the club Join the club We vibrate inside plant matter Inside each atom we dance Recreate us in your mind's eye dearest vertebrate Watch us swim in and out of your memories We have left our fingerprints upon the archaic machinery Of your central nervous system We are here You are here We are everywhere stop looking We probe and poke at you And sometimes we ancient-ones bend down and kiss you on the lips You strange humans always exclaiming:  Déjà vu
Continue reading...
75
left on seen, and pouring my heart out in 140 characters or less "can we talk?" ill double triple quadruple message you until you let me hear your voice again i know im not good at eye contact but i can try if i can see you again ill grow out my hair and lose 10 pounds if itll make me look good to you outside of my profile picture **** id write you a letter if it meant i could turn my phone off i dont want you to text me your goodbyes i want you to love me again you said we lost that spark we had but you set a fire in me that no amount of poetry alcohol or cigarette ashes has been able to put out could you at least call me?
0
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 2:26 AM UTC
Don't Text Me
Behind quadruple shadows of fear. drain the thoughts of a curious future. in between centuries, lives afloat. in between lives, blood spelt grief. disdain in the mother's breath. fragile owls weep and wail. Behind triple shadows of fear, my dear. That cursed elixir of love. Rot in oblivion, little boy. Behind double shadows of fear, steer clear. Clash and crash, encounters, brash. Come and go, stay here, then bask in my cage of desolation and frail ghosts, will befriend your heart. Of glass. Behind a single shade of fear, sneer. Let's create a bliss of psychosis, in hollow's mist. Your sanity is underneath my pain. That old wretched voice, you claim your own. Dance inside my flesh. If you may. Inside your wrinkles, in your skin, I'll swim. Behind an empty space, still there is fear. Still there is fear.
0
Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 11:27 PM UTC
Sinister Spinster
Anxiously Awaiting Atomic Assimilation: Still not happy. What is it about being pinned down that causes our hearts to rush Or the pulse to harden? I can hardly listen to music anymore: It all sounds like you. My brain says give up and stay home My heart says go out and love! Give it all away! Take them all for granted! Let them use you! Would it hurt? Not anymore. Not after us. Random but justifiable meltdowns occurring every day sometime past noon. Every single day. Your picture still on my windowsill You in that dress Our hands melted together Our arms behind each others' backs The smiling. All the holding and kissing we did on the boat. The propeller spun the water through my head And out your mouth into my eyes From there into your thighs Out your ears and under your bed From the time we wake up until we're dead Bolted shut. The door is locked. Every time I leave, I lock it again. Robbery is a victimless crime when you don't care about your worthless crap. Take me. Take it all from me. Be an angel and sin with me. She never will again. Not as long as her picture exists. She will never leave my head. Just as long as that picture persists Or the Pinback track continually insists I just sit back and cry and open my wrists. I can't cry. I can't laugh for any real reason unless a hookah is near, AND SPEAKING OF WHICH: I want to be with you again, man. You left me at the same time she did. Add insult to injury. Degrade my emotions. "She outranks you. It doesn't matter what you are feeling. Only what she is feeling." Those words echo like a ton of bricks Thrown against a canyon Or a gunshot cracking on a silent, frosty night The city glows, but not the way I like it. Not the way you described. THE WAY I DESCRIBED. Don't you ******* tell me I ruined it for you. It was already ruined! I just spelled it out for you! Have you no eyes?! Can you not see your impact? You witch. You monster! You ghoul! You sorceress! Succubus! Seraph! Get out of my head! Leave me to rot! Let my tears dry! Let my head clear! Fog from my eyes will dissipate! But only if you GO AWAY.
0
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 11:31 AM UTC
Quadruple-A
Anxiously Awaiting Atomic Assimilation: Still not happy. What is it about being pinned down that causes our hearts to rush Or the pulse to harden? I can hardly listen to music anymore: It all sounds like you. My brain says give up and stay home My heart says go out and love! Give it all away! Take them all for granted! Let them use you! Would it hurt? Not anymore. Not after us. Random but justifiable meltdowns occurring every day sometime past noon. Every single day. Your picture still on my windowsill You in that dress Our hands melted together Our arms behind each others' backs The smiling. All the holding and kissing we did on the boat. The propeller spun the water through my head And out your mouth into my eyes From there into your thighs Out your ears and under your bed From the time we wake up until we're dead Bolted shut. The door is locked. Every time I leave, I lock it again. Robbery is a victimless crime when you don't care about your worthless crap. Take me. Take it all from me. Be an angel and sin with me. She never will again. Not as long as her picture exists. She will never leave my head. Just as long as that picture persists Or the Pinback track continually insists I just sit back and cry and open my wrists. I can't cry. I can't laugh for any real reason unless a hookah is near, AND SPEAKING OF WHICH: I want to be with you again, man. You left me at the same time she did. Add insult to injury. Degrade my emotions. "She outranks you. It doesn't matter what you are feeling. Only what she is feeling." Those words echo like a ton of bricks Thrown against a canyon Or a gunshot cracking on a silent, frosty night The city glows, but not the way I like it. Not the way you described. THE WAY I DESCRIBED. Don't you ******* tell me I ruined it for you. It was already ruined! I just spelled it out for you! Have you no eyes?! Can you not see your impact? You witch. You monster! You ghoul! You sorceress! Succubus! Seraph! Get out of my head! Leave me to rot! Let my tears dry! Let my head clear! Fog from my eyes will dissipate! But only if you GO AWAY.
Continue reading...
52
A Game of superior gametes, My 46ers in the race to conceive A business/economic Theory of Warfare To guarantee/certify myn own survival For my 23ers --> The Olympic Swimmers! If the potentiality of Life in the Multi-verse Is obviously a sure thing, Then it's Intelligent Life-forms That are the abnormally; an abomination To an empty Entity interested only in Inflicting pain and suffering and misery to the Masses; Perhaps justifiably, perhaps not...who cares? It's not Nature's way --> She is indifferent, But not unaware of One species Destroying essential habitat for no lasting reward. She is here now - be careful! We need To re:think our primary endeavours; Let's try to ameliorate the damage; Conserve what little's left whilst Not foreclosing the whole kit and caboodle: Sustainable resourcing without guilt. A Quadruple bottom line, with a different foci --> People and Environment over Time and Wherewithal.
0
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
Olympians - One and All
Technology is still Double Triple and Quadruple Dutch to me
0
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 6:43 AM UTC
Technology
pour scorn upon my being of its acid of wrath I'll take measure by measure repeat the dose quadruple it if you will the **** hath been flayed with a whipping of disapproval before of disdain's cane I'll be happy to bear so keep on doling out the contempt with all its flair
0
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
Scorn
Shes poor- with a dead beat dad whom lives in the house but no connection-he stays on the couch while mother works her *** off cleaning houses and sweeping the floors of ones whoms only problem is their maunfuctioning macbooks. shes poor with dreams-shes in college working so hard she could build a town of workers from her one mind and soul. her dedication is stronger than Lebron James to his game, stronger than Katie Ledeckys swims to win gold. She works hard and plays hard as Wiz Kalifa parades- to get that trophy of success. shes poor with dreams and loans-she poops them out like twice a day, they pile like beyonces money by the second they pile just so she can achieve-so she can get that trophy so she can crawl her way out of her poverish ways-with a dead beat dad that lives on the couch with no connection and a mother cleaning homes of the macbook pros shes poor with dreams and loans and now debt. She graduated highest of her class-4.0 no more no less-perfection is she, she always has been- but none of that seemed to matter for now all that stares back at her is debt and defeat. shes poor with no where to turn-why did she dig a deeper hole of de,bt why the hell is she paying out of her *** while the their children in college parents make double, triple, quadruple of her mother. Their parents can pay but because they wrote a few right answers to the test they pass with no blood on their hands-clean- Those kids will keep the change, the change she has been trying to achieve her entire life the change she bust her heart for the change that will never come in a society like ours.
0
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 3:46 PM UTC
pay nothing-keep the change
Shes poor- with a dead beat dad whom lives in the house but no connection-he stays on the couch while mother works her *** off cleaning houses and sweeping the floors of ones whoms only problem is their maunfuctioning macbooks. shes poor with dreams-shes in college working so hard she could build a town of workers from her one mind and soul. her dedication is stronger than Lebron James to his game, stronger than Katie Ledeckys swims to win gold. She works hard and plays hard as Wiz Kalifa parades- to get that trophy of success. shes poor with dreams and loans-she poops them out like twice a day, they pile like beyonces money by the second they pile just so she can achieve-so she can get that trophy so she can crawl her way out of her poverish ways-with a dead beat dad that lives on the couch with no connection and a mother cleaning homes of the macbook pros shes poor with dreams and loans and now debt. She graduated highest of her class-4.0 no more no less-perfection is she, she always has been- but none of that seemed to matter for now all that stares back at her is debt and defeat. shes poor with no where to turn-why did she dig a deeper hole of de,bt why the hell is she paying out of her *** while the their children in college parents make double, triple, quadruple of her mother. Their parents can pay but because they wrote a few right answers to the test they pass with no blood on their hands-clean- Those kids will keep the change, the change she has been trying to achieve her entire life the change she bust her heart for the change that will never come in a society like ours.
Continue reading...
12
Sometimes I'm an apathist, Infrequently an anarchist, Mostly an apologetic aesthete, And almost never myself. _Whatever...f$@k it...sorry...hello._
0
Dec 7, 2019
Dec 7, 2019 at 9:02 PM UTC
Quadruple Bypass
…And that’s what I want to see The next time a poetry competition is held The best ones shall be considered FREE Simply To leave chance alive for those who never win To keep a little hope kindling for those who can’t A competition for the worst attempt, I’ll call it Not in a humiliating way, maybe The stars will shine during the day And I’ll hand them frowns and shades of grey ”Better luck next time, you’re a pro I must say” 8 lines full of grammatical errors and senseless garbage In its awkward sway, shall steal the day Eh, the ratings will sky rocket -MOST VIEWED THREAD IN THE HISTORY OF- Simply I hate putting this here as a memoir But sue me if I stand for those who can’t I’ll give them feet and you can take a **** On a hillside 900 miles from nowhere Because you’re an awesome poet and you can pen lines Like a quadruple PH.D with an immaculate hard on So maybe they will call you a winner The next time a poetry competition is held I will brand you a sinner For stealing some horrible poet’s trophy Simply
0
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 3:45 AM UTC
The winner is the loser
If it's true you ever loved me, If it's true you ever cared, Swear on my life you did. I quadruple dare you to.
0
Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 6:48 PM UTC
T. S. D.
You incinerated us with your passion Your smile, your joy You did enough. You did well. We’d wish for double your time Triple, quadruple, more But you did enough. You did well. I am proud of you, as one of many Who know you as much as they didn’t You did enough. You did well. I love you and if there’s an after I know you are in it You did enough. You did well.
0
Dec 21, 2017
Dec 21, 2017 at 8:04 PM UTC
You Did Well
If I had a nickel for every each and every Republican lie Guess how many congress men and women I could buy. I could buy another country and then I could use it to Put all those Republicans in. I would. Wouldn’t you? I could work with medical science people To make a vaccine legal in court That would make all the legal criminals Wake up just three or four feet short And green and purple spots on them To make them all immediately stand out. Then, when we saw one of them in public We could point at them and loudly shout. If we could somehow get back from them All the time they have wasted each year We could give it all to people who now Live without hope, and only have fear. We could legalize prostitution as well And make them all perform as doxies. But, who would want to make it with them? So, they would have to hire some proxies. We could do the same with lobbyists And others who bribe representatives. And we could quadruple the taxes owed On them and all their pensioned relatives. We could make the remove graffiti marks Off of all our defaced walls and things. Then, we could make them work fast food And try to live by cooking onion rings. If we could make that stuff from that movie That made liars tell nothing but the truth We could sniff these evil ******** out While they are still in their stinking youth. We could penalize their parents too For miseducating them so very badly. But there is no such magic potion And I make that statement sadly. Brent Kincaid 4/22/2015
0
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 11:49 PM UTC
IF ONLY
If I had a nickel for every each and every Republican lie Guess how many congress men and women I could buy. I could buy another country and then I could use it to Put all those Republicans in. I would. Wouldn’t you? I could work with medical science people To make a vaccine legal in court That would make all the legal criminals Wake up just three or four feet short And green and purple spots on them To make them all immediately stand out. Then, when we saw one of them in public We could point at them and loudly shout. If we could somehow get back from them All the time they have wasted each year We could give it all to people who now Live without hope, and only have fear. We could legalize prostitution as well And make them all perform as doxies. But, who would want to make it with them? So, they would have to hire some proxies. We could do the same with lobbyists And others who bribe representatives. And we could quadruple the taxes owed On them and all their pensioned relatives. We could make the remove graffiti marks Off of all our defaced walls and things. Then, we could make them work fast food And try to live by cooking onion rings. If we could make that stuff from that movie That made liars tell nothing but the truth We could sniff these evil ******** out While they are still in their stinking youth. We could penalize their parents too For miseducating them so very badly. But there is no such magic potion And I make that statement sadly. Brent Kincaid 4/22/2015
Continue reading...
38
belonging to the land of diversity this Hamline university has made me realize how i've diversified my insides that tell tale question WHO AM I doesn't apply to those who know who they see in the mirror but from lies, beer or other kinds of alcohol we see double or triple or quadruple and above all we want to know which one am i... because it's pretty hard to tell the difference between 20 of the same faces all taking up the same place it's so ******* hard to see one common denominator when you wish they were all you and wish it was all true
0
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
Untitled