"rubish" poems
You're clowns, as laughable as hell
Go read the passage on Cyber troll perps
unemployed ******* paid to sit online
writing ******* to flood and demoralize
the ninocoops brain deed perverts
think others are weak inconsequentials dweeps
like the spineless nervous victims you usually terrorize
Go re-appraise your anodyne tactics
30 years, I am still standing still laughing
Am at my best when alone ready for turds
I don't hide, I haven't fled anywhere
Or go all shaky and trembly
You don't frighten or terrorize me one bit
My mind is razor sharp, my nerves steely as ever
Coward wiggas are contemptibles
Can't stand and trade face to face
Only brave when they gang up against one man
behind screens inventing false identities
You are laughable, odious little perp rats.
Deluded slaves controlled fools.....
Hahaha....hahaha....Hahaha....western rubish
trailer trashes, you can't even spell your lingo
PERP CYBER TROLL, VIGILANTES OF THIEVES
LAUGHABLE MORONS, SIMPLETONS YOBBOS
SHAMELESS FOOLS, LOOK HOW LONG YOU'VE
BEEN AT IT, CAN'T BRING DOWN JUST ONE MAN
WHITE THIEVES SERVANTS....Hahaha...hahaha
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 3:34 PM UTC
In earlier times a Daughter was born
Who carried the welts of a belt
An oath of no children
By the Mother was sworn
Ten years went by
An she agreed to one
But you must never
Lay a hand on my son
The man felt afronted
By the Oath on his head
But agreed to the terms
His wife had said...
The son was born on
A hot august Morn
But the oath on his head
Was the Mans Scorn
As the Boy grew older
All of 8 years old he
Was told his mother ill
Her Failed sight ner seen
The Boy Had to help
The mother to cook
Taught by her
From recipe books
The Man owned a factory
Where each day he must be
After school his time
Was never free
He must clean
The factory floor
And haul the Rubish
Out the door
By 9 he was working
with 16 ft boards
To help make the slats
That paid for our Board
When ever the boy talked
Of what he had learned
He was ridiculed by the father
And vicously Spurned
He was called
Insane and stupid
Told he belonged in a
Mental institution
He was told
He was a slacker
That nothing he
Did was ever right
The Spite and the Hatred
built Day upon Day
His father argued
With all that he'd say
By 12 the Boy had
Longshoremans
Syndrome, from the
weight of the work
As his spine was growing
It bent the spine as it formed
The Raging went on day after day
The abuse heaped on the head of the Boy
When Finally he left
With his back to the door
For 2 years they never
Heard from the Son
Till he missed
Them and called
2 minutes it took till
The father started again
The son slammed
Down the phone in tears
And wasn't heard from
For another year
Through all of this from 5 years old
He'd been ***** by an older boy
And Held it all within Him
Afraid of his Father he never had told
All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 5:21 AM UTC
Swing my phallus,
a lame attempt to keep balance on this spinning rock.
Better ruled by short stick then take stock in anything serious.
mind shut move forward
what we can't see certainly can't hear us.
Only an ******* pumps fists
This abashed soul lumps his blame on the short comings of others.
Disdain, a fort built from pillows and covers
tumbles under the absent look given by scorned lovers...
I picked a rose
pricked a finger
now my love is left to linger with thoughts of red blood
all because I was too impatient to grasp it
a casket lies in reserve for this paper soul
it doesn't take a fool to see that penciled trees won't grow
so here i stand thumb up head down
gratuity, a hole filled with water and rubish
forms beauty in this mind an oil rainbow doth permiss
But thats just it
a shimmer, a sheen
that gleam a thin slice of cold metal
the only rebuttal a reflection, depth shallow
if mirrors speak no lies pull thIs finger out of a hat
devise an angle to cut glass which speaks truth
not crap, or a whacked crack at fact.
A fallacy presented forms false return
allows me repentance from all that i've learned.
Solace in dreams?
a world of things
which feints refuge, gives refuse and meddles
muddied the sleep sought to steal from the night
replaced it with fists, your form, and a fight
a plight is where i stand to sit
despite the case i planned to rip
Eyes turn to days distracted thoughts juggled
nights turned to pains, sore throats, bloodied knuckles
Upside down
or inside out?
... to be continued
-2010
Jan 25, 2010
Jan 25, 2010 at 12:11 PM UTC
Where was you when I fell , how cliche of a statement to tell,
no! Where was you ? Not here aparently,
seems like yesturday, another cliche,
**** it! I can rhyme all day.
I just need to know whats the point of money?
I GET IT, I loose it, i spend it , I abuse it.
I dont want it but I need it, Is money air?
Cos I dont wanna breathe Im stressed from the atmosphere making me share.
I rather be ghost watch time fly by , maybe write a book to tell about my times travel,
about love from afar, how its pure but scared,
Have it published then be awarded rubish, cos there no success or achievement when you see the half cup cruisin the highway and you decide to *** in it.
LIFE How its concieved , how I precieve it ? IS newspaper Id keep under table to stop wobbling.
Am I rude, yeah, and unconventional so?
Im used to the self sabotage and abuse as a noose to climb up different challenges just to call a truce.
By EMMANUEL jv Hernandez
Aka Linguist musician
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 12:20 AM UTC
You were a little light all made of ice
Folly personified
Gold and young and breakable
Nails and screams could never touch you
Sharp white smile in the dying light
Blew you out like a candle that day
Goodbye, good riddence
Bad rubish they say
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 10:54 PM UTC