"royale" poems
I hitch a ride on the Battle Bus,
Everyone else jumped out, I must.
I deploy my parachute below,
I glide my way to Moisty Meadow.
As I land I slurp some shields,
Extra health and a pistol I wield.
I loot the houses and **** the squads,
Which would not be possible without my mods.
I run from the storm throughout the game,
I post on the 'Gram that I won for fame.
Everyone that saw my Victory Royale,
Commented below and said "Dang, Wow!"
Now that I won, I'm the coolest around,
I walk down the halls with a figurative crown.
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 2:24 PM UTC
One more day is fading away
as we ride this bus to the city
The storm is coming nearer now
And your bliss will turn to tears
We've almost reached our destination
Countless parachutes in the sky
These mosquitoes are swarming
before your eyes,
Just a moment's time til someone dies
The skies are getting darker now
Not a shard of light in this room
You'd better make good choices now
Or meet your impending doom
I hear your steps from the other room
And I'm already locked and loaded
You'd better get on running now
Or I'll destroy what's left of you
I walk upstairs to higher ground
and hear your cowardly whines,
I look in the eyes of my colleague
And said don't move, this **** is mine
I've made my way to my snipers' nest
and my eyes are set to ****
I've got my sights on your head right now
To pull the trigger, you know I will
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
there once was this guy named oedipus
of whom it was prophesied
that his mother he'd marry, his father he'd ****
at a place where three roads were tied.
his mother and father discovered their fate
and tried to dispose of their son
but he ended up in corinthian lands
and their efforts were all undone.
then a drunk guy ruined his happy facade
and to an oracle oedipus went
who repeated to him the dank prophesy;
he fled corinth, not taking a cent.
while on his sojourn away from his home
he encountered a party royale
which rudely pushed him off of the road,
and angered he slaughtered them all.
then from that blood soaked three-way path
he nonchalantly flew
not knowing that his father was
the man that he just slew.
he continued his journey until he reached thebes
where a sphinx held the city hostage
so oedipus solved the bird-cat's lame rhyme
and released thebes from its *******
as a reward, the people of thebes
gave oedipus their widowed queen,
unknowingly joining mother and son
in a marriage that was unclean.
after they ruled for twenty good years,
during which four children came,
a plague was induced by the sheltering of
the man by whom was slain
in searching him out, oedipus found
that the murderer was really he,
so long ago. the man he had killed
at the place where were joined roads of three.
but by finding this out, he also discovered
that his wife and his mother were one.
he gouged out his eyes after her suicide;
in her own bedroom she was hung.
as it turned out, oeddy exiled himself
but the seeds of his misery were sewn.
so he went to colonus and wandered around
and this is the end.
Jul 30, 2010
Jul 30, 2010 at 5:14 AM UTC
Coming from the shadows a six armed samurai,
Followed closely by glowstick wielding neon ninji,
Grips of *** swigging pirates swing from the rafters,
Swallowed alive by blacklight monsters,
Gangs of ***** smoking gurus,
Armed to the teeth with translucent didgeridoos,
Monks parade in swirling vestments,
Whilst the shaman trip in lotus testament,
Gods transfixed by blood tear beauty,,
As humanity’s heroes slay bejeweled dragons,
The king with two faces is beheaded,
By his charlatans, harlequins, fools and jesters,
Chaotic, prophetic killers run amok,
The order of lunatics chant as the time is struck,
A battle royale then follows,
As robots and aliens envelope,
Brilliant beams and whirring mechanics,
Clash with steel, rock, bone and sticks,
Screams from the heads of the thieves,
As their brains are devoured by zombies
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:44 PM UTC
Red and gold
brave and bold
while we do something idiotic
it usually stops someone psychotic
It's a battle royale set in 1984
and furthermore
as you know I'm sure,
that's 5 more points for Gryffindor!
Found at Hogwarts
in the wizarding courts.
The zero turned hero
defeats Lord Voldemort
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 2:15 PM UTC
Oh Eliot, Poor Eliot, Your Fans Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feelin' So Sad^
<>
we tithed thee with donations plenty,
here a dollar, there a fiver, a coupon for free chips,
worthy of somebody’s eternal gratitude,
that would be you,
da Duke, Duke of York
the largest online free poetry site,
a million visitors a day, why you must be
the richest poet online billionaire, right?
you,
da Duke, Duke of York and
occasional poet...
in return, all we occasional poets demand
steady on instant access, immediate satisfaction,
after all, a part time job deserves your bestus-best,
just like every other large online site, that never crashes,
we’re not like just the rest, we are
p o e t s,
occasionally
so keep the servers engines, well stoked with Newcastle coal,
keep them up and running round the clock,
using only alternative energy,
of the unceasing sun light of merry old England!
quit that other job, you must,
instead of giving up on us,
give in to us,
a poetry break, a writing recharge,
though please add a limited liability
clause to the FAQ’s,
that poets’ lives must deal with the hiccup
occasional
you, da Duke, Duke of York,
newly now, an appointment royale as Major General,^^
you, the very model of a modern major general
possessing information vegetable, animal, mineral and
technical,
who knows the Queens of England, who,
maybe even now is telling tales of your heroics with the hordes of
hysterical
occasional
poetical
globalists
demanding
light brigadests
charging the redoubt
and
when you have a moment spare,
a haircut, please.
no, that is not a request,
naturally
<>
10/19/19
Noontime NYC
natalino
Oct 19, 2019
Oct 19, 2019 at 12:21 PM UTC
Le Baiser de ton rêve
Est celui de l'Amour !
Le jour, le jour se lève,
Clairons, voici le jour !
Le Baiser de mon rêve
Est celui de l'Amour !
Enfin, le jour se lève !
Clairons, voici le jour !
La caresse royale
Est celle de l'Amour.
Battez la générale,
Battez, battez, tambour !
Car l'Amour est horrible
Au gouffre de son jour !
Pour le tir à la cible
Battez, battez, tambour.
Sa caresse est féline
Comme le point du jour :
Pour gravir la colline
Battez, battez, tambour !
Sa caresse est câline
Comme le flot du jour :
Pour gravir la colline,
Battez, battez, tambour.
Sa caresse est énorme
Comme l'éclat du jour :
Pour les rangs que l'on forme,
Battez, battez, tambour !
Sa caresse vous touche
Comme l'onde et le feu ;
Pour tirer la cartouche,
Battez, battez un peu.
Son Baiser vous enlace
Comme l'onde et le feu :
Pour charger la culasse,
Battez, battez un peu.
Sa Caresse se joue
Comme l'onde et le feu :
Tambour, pour mettre en joue,
Battez, battez un peu.
Sa caresse est terrible
Comme l'onde et le feu :
Pour le cœur trop sensible
Battez, battez un peu.
Sa caresse est horrible,
Comme l'onde et le feu :
Pour ajuster la cible,
Restez, battez un peu.
Cette Caresse efface
Tout, sacré nom de Dieu !
Pour viser bien en face,
Battez, battez un peu.
Son approche vous glace
Comme ses feux passés :
Pour viser bien en face
Cessez.
Car l'Amour est plus belle
Que son plus bel amour :
Battez pour la gamelle,
Battez, battez tambour,
Toute horriblement belle
Au milieu de sa cour :
Sonnez la boute-selle,
Trompettes de l'Amour !
L'arme la plus habile
Est celle de l'Amour :
Pour ma belle, à la ville,
Battez, battez tambour !
Car elle est moins cruelle
Que la clarté du jour :
Sonnez la boute-selle,
Trompettes de l'Amour !
L'amour est plus docile
Que son plus tendre amour :
Pour ma belle, à la ville,
Battez, battez tambour.
Elle est plus difficile
À plier que le jour :
Pour la mauvaise ville,
Battez, battez tambour.
Nul n'est plus difficile
À payer de retour :
Pour la guerre civile,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser le plus large
Est celui de l'Amour :
Pour l'amour et la charge,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser le plus tendre
Est celui de l'Amour,
Battez pour vous défendre,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser le plus chaste
Est celui de l'Amour :
Amis, la terre est vaste,
En avant, le tambour.
Le Baiser le plus grave
Est celui de l'Amour :
Battez, pour l'homme brave,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser qui se fâche
Est celui de l'Amour :
Battez pour l'homme lâche,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser le plus mâle
Est celui de l'Amour :
Pour le visage pâle
Battez, battez tambour.
La Caresse en colère
Est celle de l'Amour :
Car l'Amour, c'est la guerre,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser qu'on redoute
Est celui de l'Amour :
Pour écarter le doute,
Battez, battez tambour.
L'art de jouir ensemble
Est celui de l'Amour :
Or, mourir lui ressemble :
Battez, battez tambour.
L'art de mourir ensemble
Est celui de l'Amour :
Battez fort pour qui tremble,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser le plus calme
Est celui de l'Amour :
Car la paix, c'est sa palme,
Battez, battez tambour.
La souffrance, la pire,
Est d'être sans l'Amour :
Battez, pour qu'elle expire,
Battez, battez tambour.
Le Baiser qui délivre
Est celui de l'Amour :
Battez pour qui veut vivre,
Battez, battez tambour.
La Caresse éternelle
Est celle de l'Amour :
Battez, la mort est belle,
Battez, battez tambour.
La guerre est la plus large
Des portes de l'Amour :
Pour l'assaut et la charge,
Battez, battez tambour.
La porte la plus sainte
Est celle de la mort :
Pour étouffer la plainte
Battez, battez plus fort.
L'atteinte la moins grave
Est celle de la mort :
L'amour est au plus brave,
La Victoire... au plus fort !
1.7k
The doors slid aside at Métro 1,
A interminable tube driven by an inhumane robot,
To take hundreds to their lovers, their homes, their offices.
A girl fantasying about her lover, A man scathe in love,
An old woman enamored with The Price of Salt,
facing the young man with a Kindle spirit.
A foreign girl with passion for the city,
slides through the crowd,
And an indigenous man wished he was somewhere else than here.
At the next stop a man bids a farewell kiss to her girlfriend.
And in comes a middle-aged couple,
Enters in with a hatred for one another.
I stood for my final stop,
the doors slid aside,
and I got down.
A couple of goodbye words to these swaths of strangers,
who color my dark life with smiles and tears.
"Farewell strangers, I shall meet you another day at another time."
Feb 7, 2021
Feb 7, 2021 at 6:29 PM UTC
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Royale Rococco rigged remarkably regular referee reefers red reddit reeder recuperating. Reconnaissance recluse really rabid. QVC quotient quoting, quo quoi quivering quite quirky. Quisling quipped. Quintuplets quintessentially quiet. Quids Quicken questions.
Quartermaster qualified quaint quaffing quadrilateral Pythons. Pyrex pylons put purdy purposeful puny punsters punching. Pumpkin pumice publicized prudential protean pros properly pronouncing prolific prodigies.
Proletariats professors' problematic. Pro privileges prioritized. Principle primates prevaricate. Preppy pregnant, praying prattler possibly Porgie. Poseidon pooping poodle ponders poppycock. Plum? Polite poison pods ply pitiful pinterest.
Pinhead Pillsbury pillager Pi. Pigskin pierce petsmart pests permanently. Perdition percolates peppered PennState pedigreed PearlJam Patagonian. Pastor pastes passion passably. Papas' paginated orbitz okayed. Nutty node needs money.
Next netzero nee naugahyde. Nattering nationwide nabob Moxie Molly McGee. Monosodium livingsocial joyus je kickstarter. Identityguard Huffington GMO. Gluten Glutamate footloose fancy free footlocker. Fingerhut fetishistic fabrication Cingular.
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 9:47 PM UTC
Let me tell you about Drew Barrymore:
First of all, she got an early start on self-awareness,
To wit: her breakout role as Gertie in
Steven Spielberg's E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial,
And quickly became one of Hollywood's
Most recognized child actresses,
Going on to establish her self to this freaking day.
From wit: Yeah, sure, she got an early start,
She literally grew up inside her movies.
And if we had ever had a
Shirley Temple of our own generation,
Drew is it.
Simply put:
Drew is sweetness personified.
N'est-ce pas?
But Habitat Hollywood needed more,
Must dwell on the Barrymore name,
Pounding that angle,
Sledging the dynastic anvil,
Forging consensus:
It’s in her genes.
It’s that sangue royale,
It’s in her blood.
All those Fairbanks & Randolphs,
Harrisons & Blyths,
Palazzoli & Giofredi . . . ***
That’s where you get your looks,
You little guinea ****
That olive oil & garlic,
Enhancing that gilded
Barrymore Blood!
It must have been an
Early pink thrill for you, Drew,
Seeing all those
Doors spread wide open--
Widespread like a ****** legs--
Career barrier walls,
Inhibitions crumbling.
What a pleasant realization!
“I am a member of a
Multi-Generation
Theatrical Dynasty.”
And going even further back than
John, Ethel & Lionel, Babaloo.
We’re talking the British Stage here,
We’re talking Legitimate Theater,
As in: Tread those boards, GB Shaw!
Which brings me to my point:
Drew’s had a long time to get over
That Diva
(Louie Prima) Donna thing.
She knows who she is.
She’s comfortable out here,
Way out here in the
So-called real world.
Out a monk’s her environment at-large.
Query: heredity or environment?
Always.
To wit: It was always
Her habitat doing the molding--
From Wit: *******
It’s in her ****** DNA.
In her freaking genes:
Which is precisely
Where I’d like to be right now,
My cherished,
My sweet Drew:
In your freaking jeans.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
I found my call of duty
inside your warzone
after leaving my pressurized cabin
and dropping in randomly
I started collecting money and items as fast as I could
to match the competition’s capability.
Everyone’s an enemy, everyone is hostile
I fear them and the weapons they’ll use on me
barraging me with dragon’s breath shotgun blasts
to put me down quickly
or silently sniping from far away
so I can’t defend myself.
The only way I can survive is staying in your circle
which keeps moving away from me
so I sprint through the fields and forests
making my way through already looted homes
hoping no one takes advantage of my vulnerability
racing to your circle before I suffocate.
Once I finally get to your circle I realize it’s too small to hide in
because everyone is so close together
I must engage them before they attack me
but they all lay siege to the small shack I’m trapped in
lobbing grenades and firing at me
I can’t even poke my head out.
So I stay inside
donning my gas mask
letting the circle overtake them and pick them off one by one
as I wait inside anxiously worried someone may try to join me
but eventually they’re all gone and I’m the only one left
and in that moment I have achieved victory royale.
May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 10:12 PM UTC
Neck muscles vigorously strained
Pulled out like a wet frail rotted rope
Fastened together by a rusted lock with piercing sharp edges
Porcelain beads of sweat cling to pulsating vines
Staring up, as if something of hope is there
Intense powered complex thinking
No movement, just a frozen dead stare
Straight glance of light into a darkness covered cave
A battle royale of steroid induced thoughts
The mind, a cage match of soft pinkish flesh
Each thought it wearing armor of dull chilled spikes
Pain shoots through the cranium as each thought collapses into the cage
The eyes, a vortex into another world, look onward
Tears stream down of drunk crimson liquid
Leaving a salted burned trail down each toughened cheek
Stinging each eye with a impoverished sob
The mouth of dried ***** sand paper stays creaked open
A spiral of silk heated air escapes, but with no sound attached
Quivered lips cut from bitter winded blades
A soiled red with a blanket of cotton white
The position of deep depressed nauseating thoughts
The body is powerless and deathly limp
Glued to the seated area, as if it always lived there
A doll, a puppet to its overpowering super brain
Stuck in a painful vision
Will I return?
Jun 15, 2010
Jun 15, 2010 at 9:13 PM UTC
She always got what she wanted
She never had to work at all
Fame and fortune was in her eyes
The day she left home and said her goodbyes
Seven fifteen flight to L.A.
Landed in mid-afternoon
Fame and fortune was in her head
Never hearing what her daddy said
Picked up the luggage and walked away
Hailed a cab, and got right in
Fame and fortune was in her sight
No one knew she wasn't quite right
Got dropped of at the casino royale
Walked in the doors and grabbed a room
Fame and fortune was in her hand
A stack of bills of about ten grand
Luggage man took her bags
Walked to the elevator and walked right in
Only fortune was on his mind
So said the knife hanging on his side
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 6:39 PM UTC
Sagesse d'un Louis Racine, je t'envie !
Ô n'avoir pas suivi les leçons de Rollin,
N'être pas né dans le grand siècle à son déclin,
Quand le soleil couchant, si beau, dorait la vie,
Quand Maintenon jetait sur la France ravie
L'ombre douce et la paix de ses coiffes de lin,
Et royale abritait la veuve et l'orphelin,
Quand l'étude de la prière était suivie,
Quand poète et docteur, simplement, bonnement,
Communiaient avec des ferveurs de novices,
Humbles servaient la Messe et chantaient aux offices
Et, le printemps venu, prenaient un soin charmant
D'aller dans les Auteuils cueillir lilas et roses
En louant Dieu, comme Garo, de toutes choses !
947
a man in the abyss
told me all about you
cleared up things
real quick;
and here i was wasting
so much time confused
i took a question mark
and straightened it out,--
was i too loud?
i am missing out
on your warm breath
at the moment
but aren't we the gaps
in crooked smiles anyway?
something that isn't there
has been here all along
or vice versa
ad infinitum
a woman held you
in her arms once
and fed you
till you became
plump with envy
and courage
now it's a battle
royale among
the voices
hush
you tell them
with your last breath;
an every day occurrence...
like the tongue of a
dull knife against
the sand dunes of time.
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 1:56 AM UTC
Hummmm.
Mon Immortelle, mes aïeux !
Comme tu es appétissante !
Je n'en crois pas mes yeux !
J'ai agrandi ta photo jusqu'à ce qu'elle crève l 'écran.
J 'aurais pu t'embrasser si je l 'avais voulu,
Tellement tu étais proche, magnifiée !
Mais je me suis retenu
et j 'ai décidé de détourner le regard de ta chair et de me concentrer sur les accessoires
car le risque d'atteindre une illumination visuelle à distance aurait été grand
si j 'avais seulement pris le temps de m'attarder
Une demi-seconde sur le lac de tes yeux profonds
et la moue sur tes lèvres couleur aubergine
Je me suis donc consacré exclusivement à l 'examen minutieux,
Détail après détail,
de tes accessoires, de tes épices.
Oh ne m'en veux pas
Si ce n 'était pas toi, la déesse, que je regardais défiler
Sur l 'écran à vitesse lente chevauchant une tigresse blanche
Mais tes accessoires
Et tes accessoires en disent long sur ton essentiel !
Ce sont des accessoires magiques, physiques, magnétiques, chimiques
Un simple verre de vin de letchi devient entre tes doigts du divin jus de jade
Tes boucles d'oreille et ton collier d'argent assorti d'une fleur blanche odorante majestueuse!
Jasmin ? Frangipanier ? Rose ? Orchidée ? Lotus ? Dis moi !
Tes bagues dorées au majeur et à l 'annulaire, main droite comme main gauche, deux par main
Des fleurs, encore des boutons de fleurs !
De veuvage ? De mariage ? De fiançailles ?
Tes deux bracelets d'argent au poignet gauche
Sans oublier ta robe bleue imprimée à fleurs
Et tes mocassins bleus assortis.
Et ton pantalon blanc bien évidemment !
Laissons de côté ce sublime rouge à lèvres couleur aubergine !
Bref j 'ai passé en ***** tout ce qui t'enlumine et t'illumine
Sans être toi tout en étant toi.
Comme ton sac en bandoulière et ce verre de vin de letchi ou de jade que tu presses entre tes doigts.
Tes accessoires sont la voie royale vers ton essentiel !
Et je sais désormais que tu es fleur caméléon,
Je sais les couleurs de ta quintessence :
Tigresse de jade blanc aux oreilles et au cou
Dorée au bout des doigts
et marron et blanche sur fond bleu,
Toute de lianes et feuilles et clochettes
Toute fleurs de safran, gingembre, curcuma
Piment, tamarin et cannelle
Des épaules aux cuisses !
Me voilà bien avancé, n 'est-ce pas, ma fleur,
Dragon de jade, sur ton chemin de Compostelle ! ?
Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 5:18 AM UTC
Walk not my little dear
on the land so muddy
lest your clothes smear
by the soil smudgy.
You are not born
for the lowly task, like me,
your life is adorn,
instead,
with mirth and glee.
I feel so ashamed
of my sully hands ***** of mud,
how can I wish to touch your cheek
and cuddle it if I could.
But my little princess royale,
my sweetheart, you should know,
that the sapling I sow today
if yours when you grow,
The most precious rose
for my most precious dear
and I care little if remembered
as a mere gardener.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
A grand dinner at Park Royale
Mingling with the aristocrats
the celebs and the royals
was introduced to a goldsmith
showing off her 24.4USD
fancy bue grey diamond ring..
she mentioned her name
gave a card written Jacob & Co
i am impressed same time i felt too small
when she asked me what I did for a living..
Unsure whether to be proud or shy...
told her i am simply a wordsmith
i write words of love and of virtues
Astonished.... she looked at me... amused and confused
WORDSMITH? She asked for my business card but i gave her this site
http://hellopoetry.com/write/poem/
she rolled her pretty eyes again
her diamonds shine...
my shy eyes met her questioning eyes...
and I slowly bowed and said...
"if you can't find me anywhere"
you shall meet my words
even if I die today or tomorrow
my poetry remains....
i am a wordsmith forever i shall be
the gold is in my words the carat 30.11
is me.
no profit will it make understand the
written word.
your ring will be forgotten in the years to come
my words will still be read ,the perfect word
will never die
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 2:41 AM UTC
*Stuck Between Her Echoes & Voices,
Drowning In His Drug Induced Choices,
Illuminating The Beacons Of His Desolation,
By Augmenting His Cerebral Evolutions,
Reflexes Cracking Her Color Morale,
Initiating A Hearty Battle Royale,
Stuck Between His Sense & Sanity,
She Kept Searching For His Firmament Of Destiny,
Detainee Of His Manic Subversion,
She’s A Victim Of A One Sided Version,
She Feels Pseudo Experimental,
Victim To His Desecrated Addiction Accidental,
His Cataclysmic Urges,
Triggering Her Into Persistent Anxiety Surges,
Claustrophobic Under Hypnosis,
He Insurrected Catastrophic Psychosis,
She’s Dressed In His Intoxicated Restrains,
Wishing She Could Aid Him Refrain.
An Unrequited Dreamt Scarred Stain,
Unattainable Myth Under Heavy Rain,
Looking In His Chemical Eyes,
She Desires Consequences Without Lies,
Still Sealed Up In His Dreams,
Hopes To An Another Realm.*
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 5:08 PM UTC
Whatcha know
About chastity
I don’t need a belt to
Be loyal
Feel royal
love ain’t gotta be
A battle royale
Everyone’s an attention *****
Publicity is adored
I abhore your BS
Get away from
My doorstep
My patience
Has a threshold
That you’ve crossed
I ain’t *******
For a ******* dime
If you wanted a mime
Here’s a rhyme instead
I won’t wish you dead
I’m not that petty
I live practicing abstinence and chastity
For many reasons
Chief among them the fact that’s it’s more of a challenge when compared to sleeping with someone. Secondly, the challenge of living such a lifestyle pays off, mostly because it’s harder to get yourself broken when you don’t open yourself up to false and momentary since of connection.
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 11:26 AM UTC
Indigent / outcast
trailer trash
flotsam.
We are products of our surroundings.
Or is it upbringing
Taken / down
Far from home
If it's where the heart is...
"Worthless idiot"
She spits on me
Like her rednecks and niggar ****
Her tricks
Quick to flick
Their Bics and *****
Bringing home the other
Black.
Reynolds wrap and points at the back
Hiding in the thickness
Of weeping veils
Of willows
Outside the picket fence
Just beyond Royale Park mobile
Community
Missing it's gate
All the times shivoo
When the South is clammy
Sweat shop swamps
And blistering
Hot like Gold
Coast fires / petrol dragons' breath
(She's a mockery
Of the word -- revelations
Turning
Now napkins and coasters
Tissue for ****** noses.)
Vagrant vespers
In the dark
she lets the men
Inside her double wide
Inebriated bruises
Polka dot excuses
Even in the city
It's funny
How the homeless can hide
Out in the open
Escape...
Indigent / outcast
Trailer trash
Minutiae boy
Barely half / legally life blind
And lucky to be alive
Still in search of
Some kind
Home.
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 8:37 PM UTC
In particular, we know that in the early morning hours,
there were breakfast, especially in the early hours
of the American Sheol, Hell, July, and Blue. Women are a gate
and star it. George Kaff Cake in Africa. A whirlwind
from the wall and Elijah's breeze to walk. People
are limiting the genes if they do not want to learn.
Music and Asia, Barbie's Unknown Song of Peace
Jelly & Security, Amelia Jack Vednian's Language
A Woman's Name, A Nightclub In the course of a bedtime,
Electus Brain and decision's image reading Into babies,
angels, fields, Mexican love, and the business can open In the West, particularly in New Warning and Red Colors or the BEAC,
in contrast to Satan's universal method of spreading,
it is possible to understand, understand, and understand
the concept of war once and for all. And is the capital city
and the ashes of a pure and clean soil. Extremely intense heat.
The revolution is deadly and does not have a license.
It is at least two in the world who is the sun,
most of all in Australia. NSIVM Royale, Lauren (Spain)
for gifts, Tahanan are good for their nets Oora (Patricia
Casa Blanca,
100-100 Brazil, Lauren) - 100; Angola, Brazil,
Japan Loren From France, Chavchavadze, Patrick Hill,
and Los Angeles Leader Refugees: Australia, Japan, |
Hong Kong, Paris, Brazil, Canada, Brazil, France,
Egypt, USA, Canada, Italy, Taiwan, Australia
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 2:47 PM UTC
By Abpoetry & A.r Ivanovich
AB - This world,
Oh man this world is a comedic catastrophe and too much
agony,
I've brushed away people causing division,
Flowers still grow under my feet praising my kindness,
But my niceness can be mistaken for weakness
even by nice people,
Can't trust too many nice motherfuckas nowadays,
We can now go our separate ways,
**** your advice, and **** your ways,
**** all the people in my past that did me wrong , no price is paid,
Baby rejection is protection,
We were never ever the same,
Self awareness and common sense meets logic,
The human brain can only do so much,
Consciousness electrifying beyond universes,
Thoughts racing into better circumstances,
Better choices,
So be mad when its you I would erase, you are a phase,
Don't betray my trust , it could get ugly,
Make up a sob excuse for what you did, waddle like a little puppy,
This world is a joke and when it ends , it still will begin.
A.R. - There’s a stretch
Of shadow
Standing in
the hallway.
I don’t know how
It got there.
I don’t remember
Opening the door
Or letting anyone
With such a
Cruel grin
Inside my
Heart
To mock me.
There’s a streak
Of shadow
Running the bridge
Of my memories.
Chasing fast,
chasing.
Reminding me.
Reminding.
Not to fall
Ever.
They say it’s best
To expect the harm
From other human beings.
Its yours anyway
If you ignore it.
Your fate, your fault
Your flaw.
No excuse for innocence
Even if we all
Join this world
With it
intrinsic.
**** that.
There’s an obscene
arsenal of barbs
And daggers.
Piled up on the
hardwood floor.
A Battle Royale
In waiting.
But I won’t touch
A single one.
Not even for the shadows.
Cut me down
And I’ll be shorter
But I’ll never be
Anyone but
Me.
May 1, 2025
May 1, 2025 at 3:18 AM UTC
AB - ..Baby rejection is protection,
We were never ever the same,
Self awareness and common sense meets logic,
The human brain can only do so much,
Consciousness electrifying beyond universes,
Thoughts racing into better circumstances,
Better choices,
So be mad when its you I would erase, you are a phase,
Don't betray my trust , it could get ugly,
Make up a sob excuse for what you did, waddle like a little puppy,
This world is a joke and when it ends , it still will begin..
●
A.R. - They say it’s best
To expect the harm
From other human beings.
Its yours anyway
If you ignore it.
Your fate, your fault
Your flaw.
No excuse for innocence
Even if we all
Join this world
With it
intrinsic.
**** that.
There’s an obscene
arsenal of barbs
And daggers.
Piled up on the
hardwood floor.
A Battle Royale
In waiting.
But I won’t touch
A single one.
Not even for the shadows.
Cut me down
And I’ll be shorter
But I’ll never be
Anyone but
Me.
(Full poem in link)
Feb 27, 2025
Feb 27, 2025 at 11:29 PM UTC