"rematch" poems
*I lost my innocence in a battle of wits
Over a dinner of boiled rice and fried meats
His debate ground my overrated intelligence to bits
But it wasn't time, I wouldn't call it quits
We went on to the starlit, moonful park
We weren't sightseeing, I had to hit my mark
Everything I said was turned down with a reasonable reason
The more I tried to win the more I kept losing
We walked and talked and I realized
That our supposedly romantic dinner had been politicized
As we stood on my porch and called it a night
His lips touched mine, I didn't put up a fight
I laid a final claim in regards to our banter
His keen eyes widened I'd given him something to ponder
Later that night, I received his call
He asked for a rematch, I smiled, there'd be another date after all*
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 6:26 PM UTC
Shorts
T-shirt
Flip flops or barefoot
Pepsi
Virginia Slim
Three Musketeer
Long thick hair
Blue eyes
And a beautiful soul
Seven months had gone by
About 214 days
175 sick
The rest not to bad
Chemo took it's toll
Ran her down
Had her drained
Never wondered why me
Always kept a smile
Even when the battle was for her life
She been through so much
It's no surprise she never gave up
None of us knew
This was new to us
We took remission as a win
Fight over
No rematch
Mom raise your hands
A proven champion
Back to life
How it use to be
All smiles making plans
Had a follow up late November
Still remember her deep cleaning the day before
Not a spot untouched
No ***** clothes
Dinner cooked for two nights
Never one to have a purse so I remember thinking
Why is she carrying a bag
I never asked but I think she knew
The beast came back to life
Showing no mercy
Ran rapid through her body
Before I could ask
Her look gave me my answer
Chemo wasn't a option
Neither was praying to a God
Natural medicine and marijuana were useless
We all stood around confused and just as useless
She made it back home early December
Took a week but made her list
First year she didn't go so we went searching
Seen the hurt when she couldn't get out of bed on Christmas
Held on to see the year 2k
Ninety six hours later she closed her eyes one last time
My hasn't been dry since
Shorts
T-shirt
Flip flops or barefoot...
I love you mom
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 10:42 PM UTC
Lost
between sky , earth , heaven
Searching home, that sweet place never had
Demons took away my thoughts
Becoming alone , reaching nothing
Crossing the river with no bridge
Living aimlessly , with devil mind
Mind blow , mind killer
Spinning in his grip , wretched
Forlorn , helpless , powerless
That voice of Deuce in my ears
Still hearing it in my dreams, when i'm awake
It's killing me softly , lightly , slightly
Maybe i'm insane , it's just my imagination due to lack of sleep
but i know demons trying to control me
till i became killer , cold pro killer
Killing unheartly, no reason but revenge
Smooth Body , Cold mind
Foresight to the untold & hidden future
Keeps saying " La revencha" " La venganza"
"Rematch" "Revenge" Spanish Expressing
Real dark, deep dark , night comes up
he gets up at midnight and sleep when the sun rise
Showing himself immortal , eternal
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 7:17 AM UTC
You have the audacity
To stroll by my house
Thinking your tough ****
Calling out to me that I'm the *****
You already met my fist
Once, twice before
So if you want
I shall reintroduce to you
My fist
Hey *****
And **** You
Now that you're acquainted
Get the **** out of my neck of the woods
And learn your place
At the bottom of the dirt on my shoes
I wish you the best of luck
With the disfigurement of your face
But think again before
You want to have a rematch
You should of learned the first and second time
You can't and wont beat me
And please don't get your big brother
Because his 6 foot 209 lbs ***
Will be quickly hospitalized just like the last time
He made the same foolish decision you did
Plus it will just make you look just that much more
Of the pathetic **** faced ***** that you are
So please leave me alone
I really don't have the time
To play these childish games with you
Hey Bitch...Fuck You
The names of my fist that
Have left their mark on your face
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
Tobias.
A handsome, broad-shouldered man with soft earth-brown eyes, that lived in 18th century England, who then came to America with his mother and father plus his eight brothers.
He would die of fever at the age of 23.
After he died, he did not move on to the afterlife, instead he was chosen by a group of elders called The Guard.
As a Guardian, he was tasked a keeper of human lives selected by The Guards' standards as 'changers,' or humans that change the course of history.
Tobias rejected his forced calling and attempted to abandon his task.
The oldest of The Guard, Helten, a man thousands of years old (only looking 40), approached him and asked a simple question, "Why do you want to truly die?"
Tobias was silent, until Helton added,
"There is a Shift after your changer."
Shifters, or Shifts, are the enemies of the Guardians and their mission is to destroy all changers so that Shifts can take their place and change the world to their liking.
Tobias added gruffly, "Which one?"
"Daniel."
Tobias' hand squeezed into a fist. He hated Daniel ever since the 1920's. He wanted a rematch since that idiot tried to **** his charge for a cigarette.
Tobias wanted to punch him. Hard.
His eyes flashed crimson, and his fists turned blue flame.
"Where is he?!" Daniel growled.
Helton smirked,
"Pennslyvania."
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
Curveballs can be hit,
But dodgeballs are impossible to dodge.
Comparing dodgeball to a summer’s day?
Shakespeare, try again.
Dodgeball, you are synonymous
To a hellfire confined to a perimeter
That destroys everything it touches,
Especially at summer camps.
I walk away from dodgeball alive,
But dead in self-esteem:
Always getting hit,
And any clever maneuver of mine always seems to be a violation
Of game rules.
Dodgeball, you only fuel my aggression.
When I am the only one in play,
And see beyond the half court line
Stronger, more agile and athletic demons
Ready to pelt their confidence against my hope,
My mind defaults to “bad-sport” ideas
And just wants to get the match over with,
Lose or win.
With a POW!
Or even the slightest brush of orb to skin,
I give in
And have to wait until opposing victory cheers melt
Before grudgingly submitting to a pointless rematch
That tortures me, vaccinates me with sulky feelings.
Crying over spilled milk is negotiable,
But I cannot undo the rash from the whiff of a dodgeball
By screaming “That’s so not fair!”
Instead, I force out good sportsmanship,
My eyes wincing, my throat and mind hardening
In the struggle to keep vengeance contained.
If only the interest in dodgeball would cease
And suffocate on the taste of its own humiliation.
Boy, would I ever love to burn some dodgeball rubber.
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
Gasping Breath
I’m running on hormones
Pleasure is my drug
I do the wrong
But it always feels right
I get high on climaxes
I’m running low on sleep
I’ll be yours for tonight
But in the morning you’ve got to go
I’m using you
I don’t care about your name
I don’t need to know who you are
You have what I need
Come fill me up
I’ll feed on what I hunger
I hunger your body
I don’t own you
And you don’t own me
It’s just a game
Just a fling
My emotions are out of it
Make sure yours are too
Let’s play tonight
And maybe tomorrow
I’ll call you the next time
I want a rematch
When I’m done with you
I want you gone
You can’t stick around
This is meaningless to me
When you finally decide
You’ve had enough
You’re replaceable
I won’t even notice you’re gone
I haven’t overdosed yet
I don’t plan to
I’m hungry for more
Always more
You’ll never get close enough
To get under my skin
You can lock yourself deep inside me
But that’s the closest you’ll ever get
I know it’s not satisfying
You want more
Always more
I won’t give you more
Give me your pleasure
And I’ll give you mine
But not more
Emotions aren’t part of the deal
I’m not a sore loser
I never lose
I’m addicted to pleasure
My hormones control me
I’m mindless
Soulless
But I’ve never felt
I’ve never been
So alive
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 2:07 PM UTC
I will catch Harry Potter's ******
because life is match
lets take our pistols to unlatch
scratch them all till i die scratch!
i'll sew bad ideas batch
i will detach because im crosspatch!
this is final war to win, no rematch
i wont back down because i'll outmatch
this poem to bad people despatch!!!
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 3:31 PM UTC
please stop
the pain is ridiculous
you ruined me
by being so meticulous
you planned every move
every step you took
you had something to prove
and i could only move like a rook
you came at an angle
and i only move in lines
you saw your chance to entangle
me, and come for my spine
you play a good game
a very good match
you knew all my moves and aims
but i think i want a rematch
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 11:24 PM UTC
There are preparations being made for another funeral in my hometown and I am late again for a fitting,
I pass by a familiar old man on the street corner, still stockpiling ****** and ammunition and I think it is beautiful that he still has hope,
So I give him the last of my money,
$1.60, the price of a rematch never won, not nearly enough to pay for the guilt of privilege but the best I could do nonetheless,
In sickness I watched the faith of my drunken friends run down their faces among half full glasses of red wine and bummed cigarettes, and it is this same divine tragedy that runs feedback loops through my deluded cortex every night between bouts of drowning clarity,
'There may be hope for you yet,' whispers the phantom poet of my fever dreams,
As I notch another eventual demise into my belt,
While the white washed pages of bloodied history sneer back at me, asking,
'What are you gonna do about it, punk?'
I don't know how to answer that question
Somewhere out West my shadow firewalks with the best of the fallen heroes, and I begin to understand that feeling I heard sung about in my youth
I never could've imagined it would feel this bad
Of all the things we do to find people who feel like us, this is by far the worst
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 5:53 PM UTC
I heard you say
across a cloud of smoke
that you hated
February,
is that why you left
on the 18th?
on the 18th hole
just as the course
was coming to a close
I watched you turn around,
walk away
at half past two on that
Thursday,
and as you did
I could see myself smiling
on the phone to my best friend
I could hear myself saying,
"Don't be silly,
I've got nothing to worry about."
With my feet firmly planted
on the freshly sprayed grass
that costs twice my month's wage
to preserve,
I reached out for a club
to batter over your head
but instead discovered my caddy
had gone astray,
and all I could do
was watch you walk away
in that poncey way
you always walked away,
I know you think your something else
but now
I have a handicap
that would put yours to shame any day.
Don't believe me?
Rematch February 18th 2017.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 6:23 PM UTC
Take my hand,
Join me in this trek,
Down memory lane,
To relive it all,
And see it a fresh!
Stories told,
May never be worth,
But once upon a time,
We lived the stories,
We were the main acts,
So buckle up!
Wailing children,
Screaming mothers,
Absent fathers,
Mean nannies,
That was my world,
A bit of my life!
Rob or take,
Was the society...
Shots fired,
The police are here,
Let's just watch from the sidelines.
An eye for an eye,
Or just a tooth for a tooth,
With clenched fists,
And clubs in our hands,
How we dealt with issues!
To have fun...
Just kiss the bottle,
Smoke the puff,
Chew the khat,
Make out as you wish!
The paths I took,
The life I lived,
All not worth a rematch,
For in them mistakes were done,
And in regrets we live on!
So this day I choose,
The paths I take,
The games I play,
The people I meet,
For I'm older and wiser!
©Joy
Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 1:46 PM UTC
NIGHT
Our introduction while pasting
a walk in classes with haste
started shortly with the lovely greeting
tis being planned, our meeting by sire fate
MORNING
Close your eyes, the event day
never fathomed the meeting will happen 'gain
"finally we meet, your number so i'll buzz everyday"
up in the mountains and valleys our kingdom reign
EVENING-NIGHT
The hidden desires, free outburst
fire meets gasoline, the match
both want our whole and not the crust
the demons in us, play a game of Russian rematch
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 10:28 AM UTC
The outcome of a baseball game
Is obvious
One team will win and the other...
The other has to lose.
But what is the outcome
Of a match between
Us?
Is it even?
Is it fair?
We already competed
Once.
I would like to say
We were young,
Stupid, naive.
But we are the
Same age.
The same selves.
You've begun talking
To me again.
Why?
If you're hoping for
A rematch..
Well, the outcome
Won't be any fairer
Than it was
Before.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 2:29 PM UTC
I can't quite tell you which is worse the pain right now or then.
The first time it was all brand new but here it is again.
The sharpness of my little blade brings back the memories
Sadness, darkness, and despair that brought me to my knees.
Already fought the first war, did not return unscathed.
Badly beaten and destroyed, left alone. Betrayed.
Now here comes the second, it's shadow lingering.
Shots are fired then it's time, the bloodshed that will bring.
Storming from all directions, thundering, crashing down.
The battlefield collects more stains the second time around.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
$1.60
May 6th, 2015
A ****** diner outside Dayton, Ohio
My city steals ragged breath after breath
A defeated boxer calling for an ill-fated rematch
And to her I will answer - yes
Yes I have seen your name illuminated in broken neon
I have seen your love run black on the asphalt to fall again like rain on the undeserving
I have seen you lose time after time with excuse tempered silver on your tongue and rise to return to your tomb by morning
I have seen the marks the centuries left when they stripped you naked and left you begging,
But I just don't have it in me to feel sorry for you anymore
I have bared you witness so many times your testimony buzzes white noise to my ears
I have seen the sacrifice you would have of me but my blood and my ink are no longer for you to drink
I wept with you one night, and I swore I would never show you mercy again
I have no idea when I got this ******* cynical
Is it my fault or yours that my empathy has run out?
Please tell me it isn't mine
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
I had a date! (not a great date but a date.) Could our covid nightmare be ending?
An actual one-on-one date - can you imagine? It was with Noud, a university student (from Holland) I met a couple of weeks ago.
Noud, to be accurate, is a man. He’s 22 and I’m 17 (18 in 3 months). My mom was skeptical but we’ve been around Noud and he seemed pretty nice. It wasn’t like I was infatuated with him, this was a practice date.
I hadn’t been on many one-on-one dates before this (5). I was thinking my 17th year was gonna be a breakout year for dating - but NOT. The over-a-year pandemic lock-down put an end to that.
Anyway, here’s a date tip for older guys: if you’re sincere about something - say “sustainability” - don’t talk about it at dinner - all dinner. In fact, if you’re an intense, serious person - on any subject - take that secret to your grave.
We had dinner - that we picked up and picnicked with. After dinner, things went all WWE. Once we were back in his car, it was as if I became a birthday present he’d been waiting months to open. He pressed in like that was an established, almost impersonal fact.
For someone claiming to be interested in “sustainability”, he moved to the chest massage - skirt-search portion of the festivities pretty quickly - and that didn’t really work for me.
At one point, wrestling in his tiny electric car - which pitched like a rowboat in an angry sea - I felt his tongue in my eyebrows… yeah, my eyebrows.
“What are you DOING?”, I asked, digging my heals into the floorboard to gain enough leverage to push him away and wiping my face with my sleeve.
“You taste good,” he said (hear it with a slight Arnold Schwarzenegger accent).
“I’m NOT a gelato,” I complained, while maintaining a stiff-arm.
Hey, it was a long lock-down year - we’ve all missed dating, we’re all out of practice and maybe some are trying too hard - I get that.
This isn’t a “metoo” story - Noud took “no” for “NO” once I went to my big, “dog command voice,” but sigh Noud will NOT be getting a rematch.
Jul 9, 2021
Jul 9, 2021 at 9:44 PM UTC