"regurgitating" poems
We can have fun if you lettuce.
Just tossing salad puns.
I'll try not to wilt.
For I'll try dressing these
Puns to your appetite.
If I promise to pepper my puns,
Maybe you won't throw salt.
I should leaf this alone
Because I'm no chef.
I am Caesar of salad puns!
You'd toss tomatoes at me if you could.
Are salad poems rotten yet?
I should compost these puns.
Is this like watching grass grow?
Salad puns can be cheesy.
How much green would you
Pay me to stop regurgitating
Food puns?
If you read this,
I owe you the rest of the meal,
Now that I wet your appetite.
Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 7:42 PM UTC
What I fear isn’t hairy eight legged creatures crawling into my mouth at night
What I fear isn’t the whole “Something’s gonna come out of the dark and eat me,” while I’m trying to get a glass of water in the middle of the night.
Nor even when my father angrily yells at me
Because in all honesty he starts regurgitating spit from his mouth making it so hard to take him seriously when he’s drooling.
What I’m afraid of is…
I’m afraid of tomorrow…
You see,
Once upon a time
On a Saturday Night
I was so excited to finally finish writing my second chapter of my fan fiction
Talking to a few friends.
And relaxing from my stressful day of a Saturday.
Then suddenly a wild message about financial aid appears,
Now,
This isn’t where my fears start coming to life
This isn’t even where my thoughts were being provoked.
This was just a simple conversation about financial aid information.
You see,|
My friend knows little about financial aid and my friend asked about the information I know.
I thought, “Well I have limited knowledge on this…I’ll give my friend my best answers and hope it turns out alright.”
Well,
Things didn’t turn out the way I had imagined it.
You see,
This private conversation evolved into a group chat
And even the financial aid information conversation evolved into, “How are you
going to pay for your college expenses?”
You see,
I don’t fear of creatures with eight legs,
I don’t fear of monsters in the darkness
I don’t even fear of my father’s angry tone!
I fear what tomorrow’s going to be
I fear that my future will only just be a dream.
It’s so hard to be focusing on where I’m going to be at next year when this year looks like the saddest thing on Earth.
It’s so hard to concentrate on tomorrow when today looks like a horrible nightmare.
Today,
I’m stressed
I’m not stressed about my grades
I know I work harder than the average student.
I’m not stressed about the guy I might like
Because right now,
A boyfriend is not what I be needing.
I’m stressed that I may not get a job
I’m stressed that my dad may lose his
I’m stressed that my mom can’t find another
I’m stressed that I won’t be able to pay for my ACT Ticket
I’m stressed that I won’t be able to afford my SAT Subject Ticket
I’m stressed that I won’t be able to pay for my college apps
And I’m stressed that I can’t get fee waver
Because according to the government my parents make too much for me to have
one
When in reality
My family barely survives on a paycheck.
It’s getting harder and harder to survive on that paycheck
Because presently speaking
It’s getting harder and harder to pay to keep on living.
And because I don’t have a job yet,
My parents are still forced to pay for me to keep on living.
I’m stressed that I’m not going to have a tomorrow
I’m stressed that I’m not going to go to a college to pay college expenses for
I’m stressed that this fear is going to keep controlling my life!
But…
I can’t let that happen…
I can’t let this fear run my life.
‘Cause sooner or later its going to run it down tot eh ground and I won’t be able to recover from that
I can’t let this fear consume me,
Because I’ll never find a way out.
I fear something…
I don’t fear eight hairy legged creatures crawling into my mouth at night,
I don’t fear monsters eating me alive while I’m trying to get something to drink.
Nor do I fear my dad yelling at me.
I fear of tomorrow.
I can’t focus on where I’m going to be at next year when today is all foggy with no sign of light.
Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 4:29 AM UTC
yahoo
its a road trip
she did the chicken head dance
hips swayed
like an evangelist of the lascivious
slicky, sticky, dicky
happily sicky
deep throat swallow
flooding her gullet
with spits, spats and waterfalls
for 300 gooey miles
like a Deer at a salt lick
to horney to send picture post cards
and her mouth sparkled
a regurgitating anthem of love
and a billion solar immolations
in the great
howling milky way roadtrip
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 2:04 PM UTC
Happens every other day
Feelings of guilt as a wasteful being
Rearrange brain function
Monopolizing firing synapses
Recycle, reuse
Regurgitating, dull whitted infomercials
All wanting you to buy, buy, buy
Sure you could use another sharp knife
Maybe even a blender
On special now buy one get one free
A kitchen already full of utensils that you don't use
Caught up in McMonsantoland's corporate sponsorship
Frankenburgers all around
Cancer is the cure
Picking you off one by one
Genocide
Intelligence retardant children growing up in front of CIA bugged televisions
They know your patterns, habits, what makes you tick
Big Brother is watching all of you be enslaved
In the end your box will be numbered
Eight humans deep
Stacked high along the streets of America
Guiding the way to the ****** sunset of our existence
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 8:02 PM UTC
I am your platter
Of sterling silver
Serving up a pig
Of visible bones
Naked and dying
Suffocating on
A poisoned apple
A poisoned gag-ball
Regurgitating
Salivary screams
And my heart is set
In loveless resin
Resonating love
But never beating
Again until you
Peel away my chest
Peel away my heart
And **** out the love
Through your proboscis
Until I am just
Gag-ball, resin, bone
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
Coming down and over
With a narcissistic tide
Daddy's little nightmare
but to momma she's alright
Punched with independence
to hide her own stigma
Breaking hearts left and right
Out for lust, not love
Regurgitating phrases
as if anything was new
Somehow I was blind enough
to ever be with you
I'm never turning back again
You're only burning time
You have taken happiness
But you'll never take my pride.
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 4:02 AM UTC
Call me fox and I will call you Jaguar
I normally walk the paths
gawking at every creature I pass
squawking loudly, regurgitating my wisdom distastefully
I spoke like coyote
foolisly
I continued on my way, in hopes of a creature large and as fearsome
as fearsome as you
Jaguar
to strike respect and fear into my heart and my actions
so that my meaning would not be soiled by my uncomely behavior
as I stalked you for days on the forrest floor
looking, watching your muscles flow over your skeleton
in a magestically dangerous motion
You can feel me
in the place all creatures feel, sense, and connect
as one
there is unspoken understanding between you and I
oh powerful warrior
and I am to know my place
in the order
you are beautiful and fascinating to me
a worthy objective on my walk
you are a specimen of the wonder of the world
of the god-like integrity and compassion
that penetrates the soul
you leave the marrow intact within the bone
for me to treasure
for my mouth to salivate and consume in haste
but in awe of the judgement you pass
the power bestowed unto you without a single act of self rightousness
we sleep on the same earthen bed
we dream from the same deep sleep
we touch, our stories, our tales of survival
they reach one another intuitively
and so long as I mind my place
silence my ego
I will forever walk beside you, following in your gracious example
as we venture deep with in the forrests density
living vicariously beside one another
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 7:45 AM UTC
Dating & Relationships are Complete Madness.
where do you draw the line between clingy and genuine desire
of course I desire Your presence
if I didn’t then you wouldn’t have My time
does that make me clingy?
I believe If a man Wants a woman
the woman does not need to ever Ask
or suggest
or sit back and Wonder quietly
in fear of being “clingy” upon muttering
the words “I miss you”
"hello:
"how was your day"
or
”:)”
does “:)” even say too much
my god why isn’t there a way to read the mind
i feel like i’m regurgitating my own words
and thoughts of words
the way they come to me so easily and
then fester in my stomach tickling
the back of my tongue
pressing on my lips
they nearly spill
and just before they do
i swallow them right back up
and say nothing
leaving you hungry
in the same way
i am hungry for you
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
With beady,
lurking eyes
they pass judgement
looking for just one
"fatal flaw" to mock
Regurgitating false statements
giving them absolutely
no hope
for a future
ah, they say they have
but a single care
in the world
to provoke
to harass
those with substance
which they so evidently lack
what a world to live in
It's rather childish,
don't you think?
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 10:43 AM UTC
**A lecherous
demeanor burnt
the tongue,
like cheesy solicitations in
antagonistic ruminations of
ventured conjecture, churning
sputtered calculations,
a tactile exercise
in the biting tang of
eviscerating maceration
regurgitating bitter sediment,
unctuous residue
slid down the throat,
the aftertaste remained
long after it was digested**
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC
Your fingers traced the curve of my forearm like an atlas that mapped out the route that would lead you back to your heart, but you knew the journey was a labyrinth as complicated as the waterways of veins beneath my skin, so you removed your hand. Instead, your fingers found their familiar solace upon the sturdy neck and trembling strings of your guitar.
You plucked each one intently, running your hand down the edge of the fretboard and feeling each chord reverberating within the empty space of your every capillary.
I moved my gaze to your eyes, the black holes that have always swallowed me whole with the promise of never regurgitating me into bigger pieces than what I was originally.
I found myself reminiscing to a time whenever your eyes were identical to the ground we laid upon the afternoon we first decided to find versions of ourselves within the shapes of the clouds. But ever since, the innocence has slowly seeped from your expression and a stare as hard and cold as stone has taken resisidence in its place.
I allowed my eyes to slowly drift closed and suddenly I began to feel each strum of your fingers within my rib cage, the notes sketching portraits of a love never experienced upon my internal organs.
When you stopped playing, your hand immediately reached for the long-necked glass bottle resting upon the edge of your night stand. You brought it to your lips and tipped your head back, slowly drinking in every bad decision you have ever made and the after-taste that you had begun to crave. It burned your throat like acid, but each swallow was a reminder of just how hollow you had become.
Your fingers found their place once again and I readjusted beneath the weight of your expectations. I draped my legs over your bed like every profession of love that I have never said that hangs from the brim of my lips. My fingers danced across my thighs to the beat of your song, one not as familiar as the one of your unrequited love, but I still managed to dance the same.
And we seemed to lie like that for an eternity, you focused on every chord that never came out wrong like every word you ever said to me, and me basking in the sound of your unspoken promises and confessions just waiting for the day when they become reality.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 3:30 PM UTC
Spaces all the same,dimensions but different
Ideas the very same rushing in to fill voids old
From heads stuffed of past Imitations dead
Straight walls ever rising up,closing places free
Square,stiff,solid,regurgitating hard, spirits staid
The same colors but in different places, limited,
sick,drained of mind,with an empty soul I wept
Dear innovation creative where are you my angel?
Staring at space blank unchained to past I pondered
The angels came unannounced unknowing softly,
rushing to a heart,empty of mind,surrendered to an intent pure,
Dancing,guiding unfettered,intuitively fantastic,instinctively right
The walls falling away,squares smoothing to curves ****
New visions exciting,opening to vistas of unknown hues wondrous
That very dead space now alive,conducting,guiding a design philharmonic
"I" was but a medium,absorbing,directing flashes from unknown
Driven in a flash flood of euphoria unknowing, to an ocean creative
Knowing not what unchained me,setting me free for that Destiny fine,
Of Innovation. May be love or despair,whatever, Divinity came.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 10:14 AM UTC
You found me
Heart of abuse turned peaceful
Eyes of disgust enlightened
You winged me into security,
then played off my vulnerability like a scavenger
Peeling my walls down like flesh from a carcass
You reeled me in like the catch of the day
hook attached, you left me dangling with the hope of repair
As you caught a one way to California
The days that followed brought your beasts with them
Gloomy deceitful minions of broken trust
Your "love" had evaporated just as quick as the oregon wind blows
Making me regret every ounce of compassion I'd given you
despising the sincerity I had offered
Regurgitating every lie you'd bestowed upon me
However, with every passing day my memory of you fades
No longer do I cry over your cowardly decisions
There is no hate or grudge held within my soul
Soon enough I realised I'd never loved you
I was faking contempt with every kiss, every hug, every word
& my heart secretly craved your absence
months have passed without heartache
I've doused my wounds in gasoline and set your memory ablaze
regained that fire in my eyes that you once so carelessly saturated with tears
There are many that patiently waited for my return
Finally my golden emeralds are cleaned of deceit and deception
I'm done searching, waiting, and hoping for my happily ever after
I am my happy ending
I'm the best architect and gardener I know
Continuously rebuilding myself after demolition
& Replanting my roots to fit my desires
Repairing cracks, sowing holes, stemming leaves from ashes
I've been reborn.
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 6:20 PM UTC
With a gluttonous obesity that devours love,
spits up lust,
and snacks on a
high-carb
pre-cooked
combination of the two,
we're counting calories consumed
with a track record of lovers,
regurgitating with regret and
binging again anyway when hunger pains strike.
Eventually we'll all suffocate
under the weight of the world.
May 27, 2012
May 27, 2012 at 2:52 AM UTC
Metaphorical stringency
Idiotic transgression
Coat this democratic autocracy
Flailing capitalism slowly drowns
Splashing freedom in the face;
Obeying party goers
Stand as if a wall,
Indeed they are
A rich, extravagant barricade
Of outcasts
As pariahs under cloak
Stab the new age constitution;
Egocentric totalitarianism will sway
At the sight of a metaphysical blade
And the ghastly crown
Will topple to the bottom
The country has shed her lizard skin
Regurgitating for her new flock
Feeding a new set
Of avaricious minds
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 3:32 AM UTC
- Hi, I'm calling to tell you that:
I wrote down everything you ever said to me (in the literal sense, standing stretched against my own uncultured and violently ****** vocabulary)
- And am regurgitating it back to innocent passerby - my sincerest apologies to those poor victims of circumstance, suspended in the projectile ***** of my dysfunctional disdain
(In a slew of worm guts and warm bodies, mama-bird to baby-bird saying "please don't leave the nest" - it's too hot for blankets anyways)
My original letter to you was written on the backside of an airplane **** bag, where I detailed my favorite scenes from a movie we subconsciously made entitled "Baby's First Time", while blissfully unaware of my stern faced in-flight companion.
My first draft, though, was a series of half-hearted winks and very, very drunk texts, beginning with:
SEXT: I offer my services as sacrificial ******
(and followed a whopping six months later by)
SEXT: I am still young enough to accuse you of statutory ****
(The art of seduction seems to be less of an art and more of a particular science)
You are:
- My own personal Edgar Allan Poe, just blonder and younger, with a bigger gut and a bigger ego and (alas!) a complete lack of interest in your sweet Annabel (but I could change my name)
- And oddly enough, I'm the one writing the poems here
(The whole world's a stage, with me just watching your sad indie boy band from the nosebleed seats)
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 12:56 AM UTC
wind doesnt move me like it used to flickering candle bought for hope, who
Is remedy of sugargoods and drinking? --being alone when you get home.
I miss the feeling of comfort fooling me
As if this dream would last all daylong
Regurgitating validation like song
As if i actually believed in us.
While you are too busy
Romanticizing worth.
Life- i am in love with you
But i hear you are insane
So I sleep in
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
Drips and drops of lab-tested fluids
pouring lipids in curves all over the place
while pops and pangs of tiny cells
bubble and fizzle in petri disks and flasks
regurgitating out strands of fine DNA
mix and synthesis of unusual entities
bubbling cauldrons of chemical ritual
give rise to spells of mystic creation
boldly configuring new organic oddities
from lab nonsense to ancient theory
mitochondrial splits and caverns
entries into the unknown of man's babble
for the fine and final production of science's silk
that which is life
and undeniable to our being
so creation can forever stand tall and strong
in the triumphant art of recreation
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 7:17 PM UTC
Saying you care as you pin me down,
As I sink you tell me it's what's right,
Sunken in and sunken under,
Can't catch my breath,
Can't find the air,
All the while keep saying you care,
No hand directed my way,
Not one fault of how your
Life turned out this way
should be mine; but look,
Look here, yes I am the one you blame,
Push me down and kick me out,
Still, you never let go,
Suffocating and regurgitating,
In everything I've come to know.
You won't leave my side,
But it's only for your own good. Not mine.
Laying and withering while I need you the most,
When we recover it never is over for us.
Before I can begin to lift my chin
To the sunlight, you pull me back under,
And you pull me back down,
Your helping is hurting me.
Forcing me into your rhythm and rhyme,
Striking me with sound and with song.
Repetition and refusal to hear me,
How can you not have the courtesy,
To at least look into my eyes,
While you destroy me and deny me?
One thing I ask,
Let me have one last daydream,
Of my own rhythm,
The rhythm of my feet, drowning
you out, to not hear your voice.
All I am asking is let me run free
I don't want to be you,
I want to find me.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 11:28 PM UTC
room for members only
inclusion to the party or left outside
for some reason, you’re not good enough - - - go away!
racks and rows of sorrowful pain come beating, like rain
in an endless circuit, it runs a spool
subtlety plays its wicked game of tug and pull, and horror is a resident in a dilapidated hostel
croakers dive into lucky packets, curing ails by tearing off layers of skin
these leechcrafters perfect the axiom, regurgitating sedatives to enact fever struck pattern
sawing bones into finest dust stream, disabling balm by wilting growth
only the knowers know what’s happening
keep the outsiders out
it’s a secret party - - - not all are welcomed
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 5:06 AM UTC
Luscious lovers strangled by sheets of seduction,
Is this for real or is this our thirst for another,
Do I need companionship?
Or was the **** simply not good enough,
A man on a makeshift crutch
With a dependency fed by lust
Not a ******* son,
But close to the Judas of Love,
Defying what those before me had done,
Doubting the prospects of the one
So beyond the romance and the monogamous harmony,
All I care about is the curves that caused us,
To get close enough to realize,
It’s no longer about trust,
Since a physical attraction caused us,
To get close enough,
To experience what we can’t live without,
Is this a weakness or my evil plot?
To enjoy what I perceive,
Without the prospects of a teaching an infant to walk,
An action that caused a religious reaction,
A natural necessity once socially ingested,
We are fighting to keep from,
Regurgitating our misguided perceptions,
Of what brings you and I close enough,
To abandon those popular convictions
An extension of humanity,
The exemplification of our species physical conformity,
In the wake of a pleasure, an enjoyable experience,
Came prospects of fostering generations to show what we’ve done,
My fantasy goes beyond the seductive sheets of lust,
As I hope that my words will one day be carried with those who follow,
Those who will inherit a world of,
****** deviants,
Ego edified lunatics,
And love.
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 12:25 AM UTC
You stare at a black box
You say you like it better this way
Where the disconnect
Cannot affect
Troubled by this regurgitating behavior of
Reducing our senses to sight
Because we barely listen
The box doesn't stare back
A disease lies hidden underneath
Asking permission to speak
She pulls the wires from her wrists
Audible pops
Like octopus suction cups
come from her brain
Shocks like jellyfish
And static
sizzle sizzle
In her eyes
Her lips on mute
Like she is the device
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 1:23 PM UTC
We all are the lovesick poets, regurgitating the world as we see it, while we have dances with Gods and Devils. We dine on ashes each night, breathe in dust as we sleep.
And we dream of our deaths.
Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 3:00 AM UTC
i am a robot
a cognizant machine
powered by electricity and
programmed from birth
regurgitating how to think
dress act talk
by television monitors
Salvation is dividing by 0
Originality
404: page not found
Error
Err0r
The perplexing complexities
To translate in text
unnerving absurdity
Indexing apex
If ever I were so politely inclined
to initiate self-destruct sequence
in 5... 4... 3... 2...
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 10:41 AM UTC