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Styles Jan 2018
One sinister thought
An angels grin
lips brush against her neck
Tears run down her chin
Warm breath on her skin
His whispers fill her ear
Her body listening in
her fingernails dig deep
sharp scratches, pierce his skin
moans escaping her mouth, wet lips against bare skin
Juices flowing sensations set in
As his deep ****** cave her world in
Katelyn Snow Nov 2012
American Haiku (6-6-6)
--A creation of my Brother, "Phoenix"--

I linger in your world.
Long enough to see it...
That love is not a hoax.
Nae Nov 2013
“Nicole Brunelli, the first small town journalist receiving...” - no - “...the best journalist of Ludlow receiving the Pulitzer Prize! She is ambitious, determinated, fearless, unstoppable and this couldn’t be possible if she wasn’t like this otherwise she would never had revealed the macabre events of Bethlem Royal Hospital! Aaaaaaah”.
My name is Nicole Brunelli I’m 28 years old and I’m a journalist. My childhood wasn’t easy but what childhood was? My mom died when she gave me birth, and my dad... lo... my dad loved me too much until my 16 years old. By then I was starting college and I went to live with a friend of mine, we moved to  Glasgow and we graduated together. We had the time of our life and I ended up marrying him, a few years later we moved to a small town called Ludlow, we had our precious first child and I became an unknown journalist. But now everything changed, this is what I was meant to do.
I research about Bethlem Asylum and some archive stuff just doesn’t make sense, death dates, nonexistent patients, witnesses like one man who lived in the area of the hospital attested to the “cryings, screechings, roarings, brawlings, shaking of chains, swearings, frettings, and chaffings to be heard from the outside.” and he also said something about the managers of the facility that were known as Keepers, and were seemingly as frightening as they sound.  One such Keeper, Helkiah Crooke, a member of the medical department of the royal household, took over, ousting the former for being “unskillful in the practice of medicine.” It could be assumed that he would then handle the medical inattentions to the patients, but no records were ever made of any medical needs of the patients. He himself referred to the patients as “the poore” or “prisoners”. Something is not right I feel it and that is why I’m going there to scrutinize, and due to this I’m going to be the first and the best small town journalist receiving a Pulitzer.
My husband doesn’t really agree with this, but he knows how I am, he knows I’ll do everything for my Pulitzer, and to make him and our baby proud of me...
The time has come, this is it. My future is about to change, I am here now, after a bus ride to Bethlem that **** 3 hours and 45 minutes, I am here.
They refused to receive me! They don’t let me in! They don’t let me in and they don’t give me any information about their procedure on patients or anything! No, no, no, no. I gotta find another way to get in.  I have to. I gotta find another way in. I’ve got to do this! I don’t know what to do, I was so close, so ******* close! I can’t give up, I can’t! I’ve got to do this! This is what I was meant to do!

One night passed and I was still there waiting for them to let me in until the night watch, where a nurse thought I was one of them trying to run, or at least that was what she wanted me think. For instants I thought “This is my chance! This is it” until I realised that once I get in, the difficult part is to figure how to get out.
Three days passed and I realised what they were doing there...people coming in aisle F as sanes or insanes and two days later coming out as vegetables or dead... They were using patients, human beings, and most of them weren’t even crazy at least when they got there, and they were using them as cavies for their experiences.
Of course, who would believe in crazy people?
After the seventh day as a patient in the Asylum I had earned the right to a guided tour to aisle D... where they give you shock therapy. Apparently I’m a messy patient, I talk to much and I refused to take some pills, so they sent me to see Mr. Cleymoore, the asylum shrink so he could diagnose me; he said that I would never see my family again, that I would never see my husband or my baby again, he said he knew all about me, and he wanted me to sign myself in the asylum but I refused to do that...So they faked my death. In my plug diagnosis my name was no longer Nicole Brunelli, now I was Lisa Coventry and I was diagnosed with hidden schizophrenia and double personality disorder, caused by the fire that killed my family when I was 16 years old.
But how would they know all of this? My family, my past, my whole life?! It doesn’t make any sense!
Three months passed and I had a tour to aisle D every week. This place was crazy, it makes me think who are the insane people here. The way they treated people! The way the “disturbed” were chained up to walls and posts like dogs. They slept on beds of straw only as the water supply did not allow for washing of linens. The way the rooms had exposed windows, leaving the patients in damp conditions at the mercy of all weather and utter darkness at night. The hospital itself was actually noted as “a crazy carcass with no wall still vertical,” offering only leaking, caved in roofs, uneven floors and buckling walls.
Under Crooke’s Keeping, the residents were not only filthy and unclothed, but malnourished to the point of starvation using a “lowering diet,” of intentionally slim portions of plain food only twice a day. It was meant to deplete and purge the madness out of the victims, while helping to conserve money. 
 There were no fruit or vegetables to be given. Mostly bread, meat, oatmeal, butter, cheese and plenty of beer was the menu. While all of this is terrible, the true horror was in the moneymaking scheme that kept it running at all. Originally, the hospital was open to the public in hopes that food would be brought to the inmates from the community. Quickly, money was charged, creating a sideshow where the public was invited to watch patients displayed in cages, laugh at them as they banged their heads repeatedly on the walls, and even to poke them with sticks and throw things at them.
 Luckly I made a friend there, Mike Spencer was his name, he was the male nurse who used to do the night watches, he used to stay all night with me just talking and making promises; he knew I wasn’t crazy and that actualy helped me keeping me sane, at least for a while.
 Six months passed and I wasn’t the same.
They are coming, they are coming...they are coming for me...they are coming for Lisa.
 It’s cold, the cold tastes like blue. - Ahah - it tastes like blue! - Ahah...It’s cold... they are coming for Lisa, Lisa doesn’t want to go with them...
 She said that she’ll keep me safe, she said she would take care of Lisa. Lisa is hearing them, They are coming! Lisa doesn’t want to go, no, no, no, NO.
 She said they wouldn’t hurt me. YOU SAID THEY WOULDN’T HURT ME! They, gave me shocks again, they gave Lisa shocks.
 It’s not my fault. They know. They know. They must know why am I here if they don’t know? It’s not my fault she made me do it! She said it was the best thing! Now they can’t have him. Now he’s safe. My unborned baby is safe. They can’t have him now.
 She said she would protect me...She said she would protect Lisa. Shut the voices down! Shut the voices! She’s saying bad things. Lisa doesn’t like what she’s saying. She keeps telling me - “ You killed your mother when she gave you birth! it’s your fault that daddy loved you and used you to replace her! You know you liked when he used to play with you and love you. Everybody knows he used to did it what people didn’t knew was that you liked it! you wanted more! You know he only did it because you let him! And you certainly know who started the fire who killed him...” - SHUT UP! We need to shut the voices down! We need to shut the voices! shut...shut the voices...shut the... shut the voices down... shut the voices down... shut... shut the... shut the voices...
 She said Mike promised. She said Mike promised Lisa to take me out of here... Mike promised.
Two more months passed and I was completly insane due the shock therapy, but Mike kept his promise and he took me out of there, in the middle of the night he gave me a coat and he drove me to South Hampton seaport, he gave me the ticket and said that that was the further he could go. Along with the ticket he also gave me his lucky neckless and told me he bought me a ticket to Cuba so I could be free. I left a friend in that seaport a really good friend but I needed to go I couldn’t go back to that place.
 I had no lugagge, no shoes, nothing, just a coat, a neckless and a ticket to freedom.
 I had to ****** adapt to the situation and try to go unnoticed and not to attract to many attention, so I went to my cabine and stayed there until the end of the cruise for the maximum I could.
Rickie Louis Sep 2011
I could tell you of a story, of this flower that I saw.
Growing in a little crack, this flower had it all.
It's beauty got me thinking, how ****** we forget.
It isn't where we come from, it's that we never quit.
The struggles that this flower faced, no quiver nor a fall.
It rose above the chances,
through this crack that was so small.
The only will was life, and the chance that it may "be".
Exist in ways intended, and truly live as free.
This dandelions beauty, gives me the strength to know,
content with where I'm rooted, 
 and will to always grow.
Gwuts on gwanilliagax
Ready hot gwip

Trill on the vibrant note gabeeboh
What a thril it is to be in nice gazeebo
What a punk that doused on the free zobe
What punctillious panagax that frigged all the wets out
And when the trip to the sausage make didnt pull down alaz
Alaz, I am the wet tug.
Alaz, the sprig of wheat ***** taint.

Didn't you say you loved me?
Well, the bruts on the wagon sauce now
Didn't me have a big one, tug one, sauce one?
Well elemayo gwit gwits gwit gwits gwit gwit.....gwit

Embryo collecting on the branch of a saggy
My baggy be ripped, dripped all the can out
Me step on a puddle, the wet one, the biggy
My pets on the leg, rub, all on it sticky, how ******
He chugs out a wet belch and creams on the gricky
How quaint is his fat bristle comb, of his **** I am assured
This great honkulous tank sub that brits on my dimbo,in limbo my ship
It greats on the grates treat me to a sub snack ship ***** ***** factory get e
Tag me on your webpage, then **** me silly
the disappeared Jan 2013
our skyline is hazed
and our system a maze
the streets are lined with
blood
and all you see is mud

you, political giants
billionaires in chairs
pretending like you care
when all you do is claim its "fair"
your lying to the poor
as they die on their kitchen floors

you are not above humanity
even in your mighty vacation house its insanity
who are you to say
that you are to pave the way:
you claim democracy
we see hippocracy

you cheat the poor
to get rich more
is it so hard for empathy
you arn't charged with a felony

your racism defines you
yet somehow they defy you
maybe as you bomb their land
and say you are here to save their band

look here, ******, can't you see
nothing is simply what i seems to be
how can you see fault in
when you can't even see past the color of skin
i wrote this about american foreign policy, domestic policy, and how racism and power drives the government. i am unhappy with all parties, all processes, and all the various hippocracies america offers the world, as america continues to declare itself as the world savior, with no real justification in doing so besides under gunpoint of nuclear weapons.
Kitty Prr Sep 2013
*** is a divine act.
Done right, it is beautiful and wondrous.

The intimacy between two people.
Knowing each other so fully.

Exploring every detail of each others bodies.
Enjoying each others  bodies.

Giving yourself completely to each other.
Receiving and giving pure pleasure.

Whether it's long and slow
With plenty of foreplay.

Or an intense ******
Full of fun and excitement.

*** is sensual
Beautiful
Fun
Intense.

*** makes me happy
(It's scientific - endorphins)

Human contact is beautiful.
Skin on skin.

Touch... Kiss... Stroke... Lick
Wrapped around each other.
One inside the other.

And the ******
The only thing powerful enough to stop the divine act of ***.
Neha shimoga Mar 2017
Ephemeral** euphoria
and abandoned memories.
These stains on my paper will
explain a lot more than my
poems ever will.
Left alone in the midst of this
troubled mind where once everything
swayed to the rhythm of my heart beat.
The tear sits at the corner of the eye wanting to roll down the cheek.
But how menacing would it be
if it rolled down ? I would be called a weak
hearted sensitive human.
Understanding my poor heart's misery isn't something that I could accomplish over the years.
Knives in my back and unexplained reasons for departure have nearly suffocated my existence.
How easy is it for somebody to just leave you behind after building up your castle of dreams brick by brick? How easy is  it for your own people to bail on you? Living in uncertainties I have always learnt to sacrifice my happiness thinking that something better would come along. But all that comes along is disappointment. A sense of satisfaction is what I am lacking at this point and I don't know if my heart would ever be satisfied after all that it has been through. My life's like an incomplete jigsaw puzzle where pieces simply don't seem to fit. Why is it that the blame is always on me for everything I do ? Yes, I get attached ******. Yes, my heart falls too hard. Yes, my heart feels too much. Yes, I am emotional. It's not something in my hands. Stop asking me to change myself. There's nothing wrong with having a deep heart. There will be times when the pain would be immense but you have to live through it. Betrayals will find their way through and happiness will be taken away.
But you have to face it.
I honestly don't know how to create my own happiness because I tend to find my happiness in others. But nobody remains constant. People leave. People change. Some bring in delectation and some bring in agony and it depends on us how we take it. We have to learn to let few things go. I still haven't reached that stage or maybe that maturity where I'll be able to accept things and learn to adjust. But I surely know everything heals. The cuts heal but the scars remain which remind me of the battles I have been in and tell me how strong I am to embrace the pain and **** my misery.
It's okay not to be okay. Don't ever apologize for the very individual you are. All that is needed is a little bit of positivity. A little hope that helps you hold on.
The best is yet to come. :')

Pure feelings.
The piller and the doughnut, two treacheous thingies. Steering through the ooze of the sugar deep. Do me ****** business on the veins of malicious music.
Come unto these brown earth,
trading temple secrets and sweet lies.
Sea serpents hourly weeps upon dastardly islands.
Three nights you came,
with such nuptial purpose and local gabbage.
Thine reluctance retire not.
Pardon shall you draw from the grand liquor that hath reached your lips.
I shall not fear clapping oracles.
This is strange Romans 13 vs.13 maze men trod.
Nature shall be shortly single for particular accidents.
Beyound a common joy and glad Father,
i button-press this beauteous acquaintance.
This..
.the coup de grace
The kiss my *** goodbye.
And thus I die to lay among the graves.

Is is not true that Jesus saves?
Am I forever bound to the underground?
Does it really sound..
..as if I care?

So **** me if you will..
..and fill me with a shot of lead.
I have fed too often on the bones..
..of this day and of yesterday..
..and am ready now to lay and sleep.

Let me still my dreams
Spill my pen of ink.
Link into the great unknown.
Loan me a cloak
Let me soak in formaldehyde..
..these are the death that we have spied upon.

The great one comes
I hear the approach..
..the sounds of drums rupture my ears.
I am fearful of those long..long years and yet..
..how ****** I forget the life..and these fears are replaced..
As I race into another dawn.
Where I am reborn.

Once more I die
To wake and see another daybreak
One more blue sky
And wonder why my dreams are always..
..the same.
i like wool, and tidying it,
notice the flecks and textures,
sneezing once again at the mohair,
with no news, no more
of sahara dust, move on

to admire couture of the linen dress,
the bias cut, and tucking, quite a feat

in these days of mass produced.

the duchess wore a coat like no other,
my daughter says it makes no sense
these days, when all others just
grab clothes ******, and get to work.

we reckon her mother in law’s brooch
will be sewn on preventing loss.

we all experience this in some way,
loss that is, not the queen’s jewellery.

i like a working day

sbm.
Anton Kooistra Mar 2016
good enough kramer talks
surrender thought volvo maniac
sniffing sound righteous ******
empty flask google doppio's

maternal cup dummy brand
fenix ghetto spy force
renovate ****** wall mart
resonance water croquet bug

material overture kiss A4-paper
rover many people bag
shut fine coffee power
justice cloth measly rent

communal broth pixel time
went minimum swag beautify
agenda question sweet march
improvement mayhem make swivel

waste croneys quiet myriad
composition tommy beat hometeam
cement mother merit fence
wanton founding four swing

jetfuel matchless assignment queen
stansford mediocre serious cat
innuendo phone insult ball
mental song quenching treat

indiginous mate patron verily
putrid how moat minimum
meaning penitentiary sliver anything
black flow rivet leech

****** magazine prada hand
colony policy randy coinage
sovereign christ kingdoms manly
mentions quit quill before
Cold writing and randomizing
kirk Apr 2019
Way back in my younger days, I joined the male voice choir
I was unaware of lurking gents, or **** men for hire
Praying on the innocent, might invoke brimstone and fire
Old and dark back passage ways, are not what I desire

There were boys and there were men, all singing at Saint Mary's
What I didn't realise is, ****** orientation sometimes varies
Just how many church goers, are gay high flying fairies
I didn't know I was amongst, a bunch of Julian Clary's

I may not be religious, I only came along to sing
And participate in ceremonies, and to hear the church bells ring
Gay gentleman I did not expect, I did not suspect a thing
Particularly the disgusting type, that want to slip you Black Pudding

I like a nice hot chocolate, but your type I do not search
Should you be in a religious place, like Saint Mary's church ?
Ogling all the younger boys, sat behind them on your perch
Your singing is a false front, because your just on the lurch

It creeps me out to even think, your in a house of god
The only thing your worshiping, is young arses to sod
Underage *** is blasphemy, but you don't think that is od
Your willing to commit sinful acts, to satisfy your stinking rod

Innocence gives you an excuse, and your sense to stalk and pray
You invited me for a coffee, I didn't realise you were gay
I saw you in White Lion Walk, and you lead my astray
What happened to the coffee shop, cos it wasn't far away

I ended up at your flat, not knowing you were bent
And you fancied a piece of ****, from an underaged pure gent
Because I like my coffee strong, didn't mean I was for rent
You came out in a dressing gown, and asked "are you confident"

I wasn't sure on what you meant, I know I was naive
You had nothing on except your gown,  and something up your sleeve
My comfort zone was compromised, and I wanted bad to leave
I'm not into male on male, it makes me want to heave

Could I have read the signs wrong, are you just being camp
Maybe your just friendly, and your don't want to clasp and clamp
Or stretch any of my sockets, or plug in your black lamp
It could be pretty dangerous, if your making dry things damp

The conversation took an unusual turn, I wish it was just babble
Mixing with the gay crowd, is not my kind of rabble
When I said "no" you then asked, "well surely don't you dabble"
I refuse to play your games, because your hardly into scrabble

I had to go once I knew, you was just a queer
You wanted to **** my ****, and take me up the rear
This is what I realised, so I left out of fear
Disappointed you may have been, but it's not the way I steer

You earned the name Black Dicky, it is just what you deserve
For you are so perverted, and By gum you've got a nerve
I am just a straight guy, I wont go the way you curve
The trouble is you try to persuade, the innocent to serve

I saw you some time later, in a toilet at the end
Peering over cubicles, but that's not the way I bend
Cottaging in public loos, well it is a gay mans trend
Walking out you even said, "I thought you was my friend"

Be careful in the White Lion Walk, the situation may turn sticky
A Black Man maybe waiting there, who isn't all that picky
Hanging around Saint Mary's church, he might try and grab a ******
Remember to tell this gentleman, "Please Go Away Black Dicky"
Based on actual events that took place in Banbury Oxfordshire

This is dedicated to Charlotte who suggested I write this poem
Ashley Rodden Jun 2014
Did it feel good?
Did it feel right,
Getting your rocks off one
***** at a time?
Was it wet and tight?
Did it taste divine?
Did you writhe with delight?
Did she scream your name,
or take it in the ****?
Did she tell you how good you felt
when you were deep in her gut?
Were you so proud of yourself
and what was done?
Was it so fun?
Was she so hot?
Did you feel like a real man,
or have you forgot?
Was it fast or slow?
Did you take her from the front or back door?
Did you *** so hard it made you high?
Did it hurt falling from cloud nine?
Was it sweet and salty?
Was it a ****** or did you last forty?
Always so *****,
A man with all his glory.
Sorry about this write it's raunchy I know, but had to get it out I was losing sleep over this one...:/
Saint Audrey May 2017
It's often the weak
And seemingly frail
That find themselves thirsty
Beyond the pale

The gutters churn under the strain
Blood rushes down through city veins
The streets ablaze with tinted moonlight
Devoid of any flame

As gods and heathens burn the same
The hearts all pumping without aim
No lungs to fill, and yet still choking
On the meat we flay

The needle drops
The records play
Everyone stops
Praying that the day might break

My iron rusted
Hinges combust, dusk bled
Swung open portal
Stifling chortle I open up
Progressing slowly
In soul or sprit
But running fast and flowing

Over strewn corpse cobbles
Harbinger paver, larder baubles
Stocking lye
Stalking eyes, new crime
Commit to the violence or ****** die
Perish inside then out
It's no use gasping or
Grasping
Stranger clout
 
Each new version a variant curse
Every cursed being awaiting rebirth
New age swift death
My time is little, I have **** all left
Gliding abreast
The beast glisten already
Peeter out slice and grip
My jowls are aglow
Siphoning light from the sky above
The creatures of the dark sky rip
Beneath my leather
Each new stab a death blow

I feast
**** them all
I rip out their ******* guts
And mash them
Flesh blood and bone complete
Cycles though my very being
Tearing rending breaking
Everything
**** these dogs

The heart of the city
A drum
Plucking tendon
Plucky young thing

My weapon is serrated
My steel is ****** already
I played alot of dark souls before writing this, so....
Here we are,
Swimming afar from Great White Sharks
Cooling with chill manatees from Mars.

School Break has been pleasant and it has been unfortunate as a peasant
Tenth grade is all over so what will tumble to cover when the eleventh is to hover?
I am fazed to predict the outcome.

My mom is long gone
And it appears that all is lost
What shall I regain in place of this unpresent ghost?

Never realized
The ultimate surprise
Could suppress me.
Never knew I could be so encouraged
When the terrain gets tough
I am stable to be.

Time surpasses on the clock ticky ******
I remain tucked in my snuggly bed at night
Pondering,
On the thought of how it all came to flash before my eyes in a heartbeat.

Last December
What a chilly, lonesome snowed forest
Current in July
What a hilly, hotsome blown storage

Abstracted memories,
Not a topic listed in my book.
Passages of temporaries,
Fish back to my hook.

What is to uprise
What is to dubb nice
What is to enlarge size
In this life?
Massive transformations for this teenage girl. :)
Matthew P Beron May 2014
It was a beautiful day today
So i took a wallk
in the woods i spent my childhood
And much of my twenties exploring

I gave up on the woods ten years ago
When i gave up hunting
Today i went hunting for memories
With a pen and paper
...
I cannot say that my hearing
And eyesight are better today
I can say that i heard and saw more
Such as the purple flowers in the undergrowth

Years ago i would have returned
With grand tales
Today i returned
With a short story

Today i was tired and breathless
From the hike up the hill
Sweating profusely
And coughing forcefully

II could however blame that
On a chest cold
Rather than my sixteen year
Pack a day habit

The trail is not exactly the same
But much is the same
And it does still go by
Many fond memories

The deerstand from which
I shot my first deer with a bow & arrow
23 years ago still stands
However the ladder has curiously moved

Again there was a deer
Under the same stand
And i could not imagine
Ever shooting the deer today

Today the trail takes a more gentle
Climb to the top where i went
Looking for the tree under which
I made love to my high school sweetheart

At first i thought it was gone
But then i found it
Right where we left it
The tree that has not changed

I remembered Laying out a blanket
But soon realized that was not the truth
She was not a sweetheart
And we were not making love

As with much of my youth
i was guided by lust
Rather than by love
Or respect for anything

I would have done almost anything
To get rid of that memory
Fifteen years ago
while today i cherish it

My foul mouth has not changed
Proven when i said "*******"
after nearly stepping on a turkey
Startling me as much as the bird

I stopped to check out the shale pit
I used to spend hours there
Scouring for fossil remains
Of plants and animals

I never found anything
But that didn't stop me from looking
Today i picked up one lump of shale
Looked it over and laughed

A pair of squirrels did not think
It was so funny
****** scurrying up a tree
And barking at me in unison

I guss the biggest impression i got
Was how much the woods
Has not changed
While much of me has

All the changes
may not be for better
But not all
For worse either

I shouldn't have given up on the woods
and i have been given several chances
So i am going to give the woods
Another chance as well
***
Zoei Feb 2013
here's a ****** because I have to go.
What if life is full a fate?
Waiting for us to cross the gate?
To meet a stranger
someone new.
To Trip and fall
and feel askew.
just to make us a better
"me"
to make us feel invincibility.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2017
you want me to put out a cigarette out
inside your eye?
   let's face it: tears don't come cheap...
sometimes you need more
than a rom-com to turn your eye into a
niagara falls... which way's the
              hmm hum umm?
this sort of time-frame
is really confiscating my
anti-claustrophobic philia
worth of shaking
hands or knee-jerking
really quick;
get my drift? no? no matter...
i can do with a "thought"
basis for summary...
   ah **** me...
can you imagine feeling
magnetism when shaking
your hand really ******?
      apart from watching
paint dry,
   i suggest the "movie"
of watching ice freeze,
or mercury freeze...
   the latter?
  gone with the wind standard
of 3 hours +...
               nice though...
to imagine, better still:
imitate...
    what a sin to bed driving
a car, and listening to
classical music,
citing john brunning after five
p.m., who the **** listens to
classical music when driving
a car?
             leprechauns?!
         he-be-he-be-hoom-ha?!
modesty just ****** off,
all we're left with is
a welcome "bargain" of profanity;
i always enjoyed the idea
of running 100m while dribbling
a football, like the time
when marc overmars could outrun
most sprinters dribbling a football
while playing the left-wing for arsenal...
every time i see these men of sprint
getting all cocky... i tend to ask
them: hold an egg on a tbl. spoon...
and run the same time of the worth
of distance...
marc overmars would still
     out-run you...
mind the fact that he was also dribbling
a football...
            evidently humanity will not
remember a marc overmars: simply because
he wasn't in a ****** advert...
      too bad... that dutch "prince" could
out-run that jamaican rod while
juggling three oranges with his hands,
   balancing a watermelon on his head,
                and dribbling a football;
basic!
Infamous one Jan 2018
Things are well for once all the negative people are gone he was on his path and was determined to make it to the next level. He didn't ask or want others influence because in his mind he had the plan and vision in his head even if the outcome did not come out accordingly. He learned to love himself and put his needs first. Things were better figuring out what he wanted building up confidence and courage to make his decision without others throwing their monkey wrench into his plans. He found passion in what he loves! Not worried if it was cool all that mattered was it made him happy. He had promised himself to be happy and let go of the past that kept surfacing because it was history and no longer mattered. He did change for people some for good and others didn't appreciate the sacrifice so it became for himself. The women that claimed to love him but with someone else he was not one to move on so ****** but did learn they are gone not coming back so no point in waiting around. He had many friends he valued deeply but they bad mouth him or holding a grudge because he called them out he was a good friend that told the truth. He would not be fake or a friend if he did lie.
Fearless Dec 2018
swipey swipey left or righty
I could do this all freakin nighty
I'll never call you, never text
I know you're all just after ***
boys are silly girls are too
they want true love but a ****** will do
easy peasy lemon squeezy
nobody thinks this stuff is sleezy?
Don't be silly and wrap your ***** said a hippy named Billy
who was ***** for a gypsy who was clearly into whiskey
and was ready for a ****** even after feeling ******.
Created by me on November 7th, 2019
I said this once and I'll say it again, don't ask.
laoda Dec 2019
Let me say,  I wonder if the clock ticks slow
Or we have lost track of the pace
I thought the time has traveled far
or did we accidentally race?
Why rush and bore audiences
just to quickly end the show?

Let the play goes on, and not so fast
I have not seen any drama
with a peak too soon,
that also for a long time lasts

Such greats actors, with skills hard to mimic
nevertheless, ****** sicken their admirers,
all started well received, yet repeated
quite the same errors
so keep your poetic rhythm,
And your wonderful confidence, but, never
too eager to show that you're an energetic player
old stuff
jeffrey conyers Feb 2011
I have notice love is like te devil.
It gets blame for everything.
Our mind isn't no fool.
It sometimes follow when it should lead you.
Understand love hadn't done anyhing wrong.
It was the brain.

We let that ***** get off so innocently.
When it's the operation, of everything.
It walks around talking about the heart.
As, if it never played a single part.
Please realize love hadn't done anything wrong.
It's that thing called a brain.

Like the sun being out when it rain.
We begin to question's the weather.
Like a bird that loses one feather.

The brain stays quiet and laugh, at us.
While realizing it controls the heart in us.
And it laugh because we don't use it right.
So, it let us blame the other parts.
And that always seems to be the heart.

Heart ache, heart break, heart love trouble.
We say ****** when we are in pain.

But really, love hadn't done nothing wrong.
It's the brain that when problems arise it stays quiet.
Like the pride we hide behind.
Accepting defeat for one last time.
All rights owned, by jeffrey t. conyers- From Mind Games
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2020
such that... life continues... regardless
for concern for / of personal whims,
farces and tiresome tribulations...
i'm doubly drunk with grief -
i don't know whether i'm moruning
or drinking: perhaps both,
perhaps neither...
the children in the nearby school are
persistent in entertaining
a break from corrosion rubric mantra...
the same desolate crow heaves out
a harking a barking an anything
but its original: no substitute...
i'll baptise myself by taking a shower...
i hope to forget taking a ****...
i'll drink enough to **** something out...
the world retains its
objective rigidity and lack
of nuance: death's grip forever "realistic"...
but now i don't care to mind
shadow or bow to concrete
evidence of antithesis telekinetic
stones in an omni- litany of a deity...
the lesser servent is adorned with
its crown - such glorious ruling
of ceremony...
i ought to find relief being a confused
expression of:
hangover mourning -
perhaps i drank too much
to numb the pain:
i drank too much to prevent myself
from tear-kneejerk-reactionary: absentee-,
perhaps chewing on some
peppermint...
hard not to pretend to have not
outmaneuvered death
for a ****** with ol' vanity moi...
in the old saying:
it is, done...
         completely: complete -
ouroboros "tamed"...
               after all: death is nothing new:
no nuance, no glaring need for
comparison: no competitive
subjective strategy -
a barrenness of uniqueness is
this numbing extract -
           if only death were a sentence
unto amnesia -
yes... life continues...
objectively, automated regardless of
what "things" might break...
with its omni- litany:
the deity resounds with
perseverance:
don't tame yourself with
an allowance for
claustrophobic subjectivity -
there are forever echoes of life dasein -
forever new
unfathomable elsewheres...
not here, not now...
     grieve for an hour or two...
but return to something
of life...
and veneer and: do good practicality...
you were not supposed
to express the grace
and pragmatism of a mourning
of a tree:
willow or no willow...
oak, birch or pine...
           far less crooked than
a crucifix to be later adorned
in gold and rattled around with
history like some driftwood
atop plum copulas of arch-nemesis
stone upon stone...
hollowed out by castrato choirs.
here, now... i will listen
to the earth breathe...
as i will call the wind your song
to boot.
Liana Nov 26
The end of the day
Slowly yet ****** approaching
And I have done nothing

Regret and guilt eat me alive
Grief for the time I have lost
Wasting

Things were there
Waiting to be done
Calling my name out in vain
Taunting me
And I ignored them

Remorse

For today
I feel as though
I have accomplished
Nothing
I'm sorry
Big Virge Sep 2021
One Thing That I’ve Learned...
In This Wild Crazy World...

Is That Some Words Can HURT...
If They’re NOT Well Observed...
And Are Used To... PERTURB... !!!

So This Piece of Rhyme Verse...
Will Speak About Words...
And How They Can UPSET... !!!
When They’re Carelessly Said...

Now I Know That I’m One...
Whose Use of Words STUNS...
Like A... SWIFT Ali Punch... !!!!!

But That’s Because I...
Use My Words Like A Knife... !!!

Cos’ I Don’t Like Fist Fights...
Guns Or Using Big Knives...
To Destroy Peoples Lives... !!!

I’m A Lyrical Guy...
Whose Standards Are HIGH...

But Sometimes Being Clever...
With Your Use of Letters...
Can Create Vendettas...
That Clearly Don’t Better...
Our... Relationships... !!!

Sometimes A Smart Quip...
Can Make People FLIP...
If Their Timing’s NOT Right... !!!

So BEFORE You Speak THINK...
And Maybe... Hold Your Lips... !!!

Or That’s Right Yes Your Tongue... !!!
Before Your Mouth Runs...
Your Words Into TROUBLE...
That Then Leave You Humbled...

Because Some Are HURTFUL...
Just Like Vicious Circles...
of... IGNORANT Verbals... !!!

Unlike Those From VIRGIL...
Or That’s Right BIG VIRGE...
When It Comes To My Verse...

Because I Reserve...
My Verse To Use Words...
In Ways More Discerning...
Than Those Undeserving...
of Being Expressed...
Because They Lack Sense...
And Are Said To Cause Stress... !!!

Like Those That Are Sent...
By People Through Text...
That Simply AREN'T Clear...
Or Are Sent To Breed Fear...

Or Those That Don’t Send...
The Words That Are Meant...
Because They Are RUSHED...
So Are... INACCURATE... !!!

In What They Address...
Or To Whom They Are Sent...

And Then There Are Those...
That Are Thrown Out Like Bones...
By Those Throwing Stones...
From Inside Glass Houses...
That QUICKLY Are SHOUTED... !!!

When They Could Be SAID...
In Ways That Present...
A STRONG Argument...
That DOESN’T UPSET... !!!

But Here Is The Thing...
That Needs To Be Linked...
To The Words That You Bring...

If Someone’s IRATE...
Cos’ They’ve Had A Hard Day...

Just One Simple Sentence...
Can ****** RAISE TEMPERS...
BEFORE You Can Say...
That You’re Sorry... Okay... !!!

And In These Strange Days...
of New Viral Complaints...
Heads Are Bent Out of Shape... !!!

Due To NOT Getting Pay...
Or Being LOCKED AWAY...
In Their House Like Some Slave...
For... Day After Day... !?!

So Take Time To THINK...
BEFORE Running Your Lips...
About ANY OLD Thing... !!!

Because Words Can Cause MORE...
Than A... Lyrical War... !!!

They Can Leave People TORN...
And Willing To SCORN... !!!

When They Are REJECTED...

Due To Someone Expressing...
Some Thoughts NOT Collected...
That Then Start INFECTING...

The Mind States of Others...
Who May Start To BOTHER...
Like VIOLENT THUNDER...
Or... VOLATILE Lovers... !!!

Cos’ It’s EASY TO CLAIM...
That Your One Whose Humane...

But It’s... Easier To...
Let Your Lips Run Too Loose...
When The Things That You Say...
Show A LACK of Restraint...
And Good Use of Your Brain... !!!

Everyone’s NOT The Same... !!!
And Will Have Different Ways...
As Well As... BAD DAYS... !!!

So Sometimes It Is WISE...
To That’s Right RECOGNISE...

NOT To Jump Down The Throat...
of A Person You Know...

Because Maybe You DON’T... !?!

And Might Use The WRONG Tone...
When They Are Feeling... Low...

If They’ve Done Nothing Wrong...
Just Let Them Move Along...
Without Coming On Strong...
Or Running Your Mouth...
Before You Find Out...
That They Are Feeling Down...

Cos’ They May Just REACT...
And Choose To SNAP BACK... !!!

Instead of Stay Cool...
Like The Calmest Folk Do...

It’s All About Finding...
Appropriate Timing...

Because Words Can Breed Fighting...
And Things Quite Unsightly... !!!!!!

If You Don’t Do This Thing...
Yeah That’s Right...

...... “ Use Them Wisely “.....

— The End —