Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"scammed" poems
I’m a woman with some attitude-- not one who will dispense a platitude. Chicken soup won’t give you soul; from me, it’ll get you an eye roll. You try to mask your disapproving looks with sanctimonious advice from large print books: “Embrace the moment” “Be grateful” and “Breathe” “Pray” “See only the good” “Turn the other cheek” “Accept others’ flaws” “Don’t criticize”-- I have some advice that’s a bit more wise: “Don’t put up with ******** “Embrace your outrage." While you were living in the “present,” history turned the page. God is Dead, you’ve got to take charge; you’ve been scammed by crooks in suits, who live large. People aren’t so good; sometimes they’re **** They’ve pulled the rug out from under where you sit. Don’t accept others’ flaws; tell them to go to hell. If you’re really mad, don’t breathe, just yell. Anger is good, it’s there for a reason. You’re just a phony, with your people pleasin’. Get off your **** and take some action-- stick it to the jerks, join the radical faction. Accommodating ******** just brings on more-- just wait, and you’ll see what’s next in store.
0
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 10:44 PM UTC
Attitude
Have you met the Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man? He scammed fig leafs in the garden, And **** cloth in Ottoman.      outside-in, inside-out; upside-down, right-side up The Who-gee Boo-gee Man can cuss. He offers snake oil, spins a tale, So you feel smart, healthy and hale.      from top to bottom, bottom to top The Who-gee Boo-gee Man can't stop. He swrawls with a Sharpie pen.      right is left, left is wrong That's the Who-Gee Boo-Gee song. Consultation for now is free, No hidden added extra fees: You buy two, you get three.      north to south, east to west The Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man won't rest. I've heard his feet are cloven; The eyes are yellow, lips look swollen; He has two fingers, wears silk- woven. He sweats like water to the lowest level; He's quicker than the slyest devil, Selling hell, but we hear heaven; Doing so twenty-four seven. He photo-shops secret desires, Twists truth-tellers into liars; Artful, wily, scheming, subtle, The Who-Gee Boo-Gee's a hungry jackal.      *today is the day, yesterday's late,      tomorrow's a place that just won't wait* I met up with the Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man, Peddling apples from my jardain.
0
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC
The Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man
“You are the leaders of tomorrow” They told us over and over Right from the tender age of three Through childhood and adolescence. We have outgrown our youth We are now mature men We have come of age to lead Just as promised decades ago. At a recent gathering Our leaders of yesterday Stricken with age and power And long overdue for retirement Addressed us, saying, “Bla bla bla, bla bla, bla bla bla…” “You are the leaders of tomorrow” That last statement jolted me awake From his uninspiring, boring speech. Then it dawned on me We are a sleeping generation We have long been waiting- sleeping! When we should be leading *Our greedy, power-drunk leaders, Will die in active service! They will NOT hand over to us! Not if we sit and wait for them*. I had a revelation that the “tomorrow”, We were promised “yesterday” Is fast becoming yesterday, today! And while the Nigerian youth sleeps His chance is being usurped by his fathers Yesterday we heard this promise Today we hear the same promise But come tomorrow, we will be too old to lead And our children’s turn, it will be. We have been scammed of our future By the very ones we entrusted them with And like turns in a game of scrabble, We have missed ours- forever! Our leaders are old men Who have no faith in youths And come tomorrow, our children, Will have graves to look up to Because we would have no experience From which to advise them… And like an unwanted track on a CD Our generation would have been skipped By the geriatric push of a ⇒ button! © Raphael Uzor
0
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
Generation Skipped
“You are the leaders of tomorrow” They told us over and over Right from the tender age of three Through childhood and adolescence. We have outgrown our youth We are now mature men We have come of age to lead Just as promised decades ago. At a recent gathering Our leaders of yesterday Stricken with age and power And long overdue for retirement Addressed us, saying, “Bla bla bla, bla bla, bla bla bla…” “You are the leaders of tomorrow” That last statement jolted me awake From his uninspiring, boring speech. Then it dawned on me We are a sleeping generation We have long been waiting- sleeping! When we should be leading *Our greedy, power-drunk leaders, Will die in active service! They will NOT hand over to us! Not if we sit and wait for them*. I had a revelation that the “tomorrow”, We were promised “yesterday” Is fast becoming yesterday, today! And while the Nigerian youth sleeps His chance is being usurped by his fathers Yesterday we heard this promise Today we hear the same promise But come tomorrow, we will be too old to lead And our children’s turn, it will be. We have been scammed of our future By the very ones we entrusted them with And like turns in a game of scrabble, We have missed ours- forever! Our leaders are old men Who have no faith in youths And come tomorrow, our children, Will have graves to look up to Because we would have no experience From which to advise them… And like an unwanted track on a CD Our generation would have been skipped By the geriatric push of a ⇒ button! © Raphael Uzor
Continue reading...
48
here, cows give up their milk a small island economy works well the place I was born and mother breast fed farmers are suffering suffering so much from the pathetic price supermarkets pay for milk now on the national news farmers are walking their cows through the isles of supermarkets and just maybe maybe fairness will win
0
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
Farmers scammed out of their living
I had become what most yearn for. Anyone can want what they truly do not understand . You never know you like something until you finally get a taste for what it truly is . My plate is full these days . Every line has a direction and it becomes more mechanical by the second. People laugh at me less . Some envy . Fools often hate what they themselves could never do. They think what I forged in fire somehow was handed from the Heavens. The tattered edges now refined . It took a toxic environment and a lust for its release. I didn't cheat my self indulgence . But I **** sure scammed myself about happiness. I worked for this plain and simple. I stayed around till I had proven a fluke is one thing I wasn't. If your waiting for a encore . You have to let me finish first .
0
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 1:28 AM UTC
Lesson 1
Should have known .... your life would change completely.. What were you thinking ? Have you lost your mind? You clicked that button ACCEPT the fake romance started Your soul was sold Bought so easily by the evil heart So ignorance you were You’ve been blinded, blinded... You were deaf and dumbed... Tangled yourself in the web of lies Your craving for love landed you in deceit. You let your heart be captivated Manipulated with sweet words of false love You casted those who have loved you... Comfortable you were in this fake love life.. He was a scam, scams of the heart.. He was a king scammer... A great cunning pretender He valued your money not your love or life.. He fancied your bank accounts rather than your future.. What a pity first false impression.. Seduced by charms and lyrics of poems A lying Heart is a weapon to crush a trusted soul.. Your sinful heart blinded a pure white soul You tricked and cheated and you fooled shamelessly You tarnished ones reputation left her in shame, penniless and broken hearted.. You scammed her vulnerable heart... Nothing you are worth... Scams of the heart.....
0
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 11:52 AM UTC
Blinded- Scams of the heart
busy verbalizing my merchandise                                                               a display of teeth reefed behind my smile                                                       because merchandise is what i am after                           and The Revels watch over me                                 and laughter drains down through sewer grates i am watched over                                                                                           my potential client walks away                                                                      but returns again with queries                                                                        on this hot day                                                                                                  a smell like burnt hair raises from the gutters                                             and these are the streets that radiate                                                             on this hot day                     an honest clash and not some some touchy bout and here we are                                                               the costly coil of pushing business together ;                                               a lively thrive thrifty **** you"s and a dressing down        circling the other and striking their buttons                          interlaced within is a genuine pressing                toward each other goals   this partnership                                                                           swiftly made                                                               has an extreme edge and chaotic balance           the both of us must master or abandon our productivity              shall we be served by this union                                      or sever fighting ? unfit                                                                        it swerves and suffers a pity                   let's keep this one brief                                                      we manage business handshakes and scowl away with our wares each of us feeling equally scammed (we've made useful enemies at best) i break out laughing all the same-how and howl because i feel that feeling that this could go on forever and business has roots in all my moods i crouch at the curb        the curb is abrasive                              i sit i look at the dry heat radiating off the tarmac the slight greasy lime taste of the air passing the roof of my mouth the electric wires running hum into the buildings the storm drains at the edges of the roads where laughter siphons down to the magma of Hades it is waning off now                          and i feel vague i stand and i scan for more players i spot a vivid orange one one that i may barter their aura of vigour traded for my sketchy wares
0
Mar 12, 2022
Mar 12, 2022 at 9:55 AM UTC
t e e t h
busy verbalizing my merchandise                                                               a display of teeth reefed behind my smile                                                       because merchandise is what i am after                           and The Revels watch over me                                 and laughter drains down through sewer grates i am watched over                                                                                           my potential client walks away                                                                      but returns again with queries                                                                        on this hot day                                                                                                  a smell like burnt hair raises from the gutters                                             and these are the streets that radiate                                                             on this hot day                     an honest clash and not some some touchy bout and here we are                                                               the costly coil of pushing business together ;                                               a lively thrive thrifty **** you"s and a dressing down        circling the other and striking their buttons                          interlaced within is a genuine pressing                toward each other goals   this partnership                                                                           swiftly made                                                               has an extreme edge and chaotic balance           the both of us must master or abandon our productivity              shall we be served by this union                                      or sever fighting ? unfit                                                                        it swerves and suffers a pity                   let's keep this one brief                                                      we manage business handshakes and scowl away with our wares each of us feeling equally scammed (we've made useful enemies at best) i break out laughing all the same-how and howl because i feel that feeling that this could go on forever and business has roots in all my moods i crouch at the curb        the curb is abrasive                              i sit i look at the dry heat radiating off the tarmac the slight greasy lime taste of the air passing the roof of my mouth the electric wires running hum into the buildings the storm drains at the edges of the roads where laughter siphons down to the magma of Hades it is waning off now                          and i feel vague i stand and i scan for more players i spot a vivid orange one one that i may barter their aura of vigour traded for my sketchy wares
Continue reading...
53
When I Traversed The Spirit World I Attempted To Wake The Dead. The Dead Only Slept So On I Did Move, Moving Through The Spirit World. When I Traversed The Spirit World I Tried To Play With The Fae. But The Fae Only Dine On Fruit & Red Wine, They Tried To Circle Me To Dance For All Time, But The Dead All Stayed Dead So On I Did Move, Moving Through The Spirit World. When I Traversed The Spirit World I Was Spotted By It's Demons. They Hung In Packs, Slobbering For Snacks, Rearing Up To Attack, But The Fae Fought Them Back, Im Not Their Kin But They Don't Relax. On I Can Move With The Fae On My Tracks. When I Traversed The Spirit World I Saw A Sight, A Giant Tall, Sat On Mountains Watching All. I Ask The Giant Where I Am, Death He Said Its Where I Began, To Wake The Dead & Free Those Scammed, Like Myself Be Released From The ******
0
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 3:29 AM UTC
Traversed The Spirit World Part 1
I often wonder how anyone Can scam other people and call it fun. How can someone dupe others and be Content with causing adversity? What is it about them that makes Scammers act like cold-hearted snakes? They hiss, "Honesty be ****** How would they like it if they were being scammed? Like hungry snakes they lie in wait Until their prey land on their "plate." They spring as soon as their targets come near, Before the poor victims can even show fear. Failing to notice the forms of disguise, The unwary victims are caught by surprise. It doesn’t matter how victims feel Since the snakes’ focus is their next meal. Scammers and snakes are slimy; that’s true. But maybe we shouldn't equate the two. Perhaps it's an insult to snakes to maintain That they and scammers are in the same vein. Having no conscience, scammers are **** Their minds are selfish; their hearts are numb. They do not care which rules they subvert; They couldn't care less if people get hurt. If I believed in hell, I would say That that’s where scammers deserve to stay, Though fire and brimstone and all that stuff Would NOT be punishment enough. -by Bob B (1-11-22)
0
Jan 11, 2022
Jan 11, 2022 at 10:46 AM UTC
On Scammers
walking thru the valley of words speechless are our soldiers in war times of creative breaks, shootings the sounds of slugs overpower rivals gangstapoets stand tall in gory hoods we dunno what fear is, bloodhoundz as we only need 8 minutes to gather 80 0 traitors, giving bread to hungry ones one tower, one pit, one block, 1LOVE feel me rushing over sparklin' glaciers south florida, 64th floor, ocean fiends snake charmer in crime, 20 to 55, flip kobacobraface scammed one of us unknown were the ties among tizz and gp in the background, jeezy and assi-toni... "still on it", "the realest", "kommenzi" the beats merge in gangstapoet's minds dominique northstar's silky skin on mine tissop, the war zones, fallen gangsta poets dead baby mommas, vamoosing bullets stop! tizzop is yelling, falling on his knees and branko, tizzop's red horse approaches juicy our promises, as sweet as fulfillments olives, red wine, m2 tec bluetooth babe red light district, wondaland's lost avenue in the corner of agony and mania, dey fail gangstapoets gradually winning turf to be continued...
0
Jun 8, 2021
Jun 8, 2021 at 2:14 AM UTC
Wordless Poem I
It was the middle of the night I saw this girl dressed in white She was sitting on the road alone So i came closer to ask her whats wrong I approched and placed my hand on her arm "Hey there lady i mean no harm" She seemd careless crying like a little kid Before i had time to say anything else A guy came out of nowhere with a gun pointing to my head Then the girl started to laugh They took my money They took my keys And left me in the middle of the street I tried to help but i got scammed A couple of days later i get this call It was the police they had found my car With two dead body inside Death Cause : Overdose It looks like those two robbed me to buy some drugs... Words Of Harfouchism
0
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
Karma
Drooling from pharmaceuticals, and being told what's beautiful. Recklessly using our mandibles, and idolizing party animals. No time to get personal, Cuz I must go out and buy the product being scammed on this commercial. Back. Intelligence being blinded by fear, So many don't pay mind, too full of beer and confused why they can't see clear, or even eye to eye with their closest peer. Time spent pointing fingers and wondering why "bad luck" lingers. A society high on measurements and value measured by possessions. The "Iwant" society diseased with obsessions. Sold opinions with television and magazines, Never realizing the atrocities behind the scenes.   More psych evaluations and pills to swallow, Or open love connections and spirituality to follow? Many homeless, while uninhabited homes shows a higher amount.   Pop-culture won't show ya, can the counter-culture even count?   Fatty fast food paired with fast athletes, just to get a meager billion some dollars.  There's still time to change though, which is why we need to bother.   Too cheap to buy selfless items, well then at least pay attention.   See me for clarity, there's a wealth of info I didn't mention.
0
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 6:14 PM UTC
A taste of the Amurican't Dream
Divinity of the Day lets me think I’m in the sky But that’s alright, like to go about this blind Exiled darling wandering in the summer blessedly long Divinity of the Day, my whispered prayer through the dark God, that enthralled you read in a raindrop before it hits the ground sunset boulevard torch, is up one of these bends, waved in night West Hollywood Rimbaud, feathers falling into my hair, dressed in invention’s favorite mood with my roadhouse sheet music written of my life’s inspiration adorned walls, slightly cold I was lost but playing it off, until my racing heart reached time future and said, soul adored believe what’s in store dose to help you forget and live Harp in hand, each step how it rings scammed and scorched no lying that all this running leads to hardly breathing There’s smoke around you drifting into an image faithful to the vast, wild west bravely standing despite the emptiness as if guided, divinely guided with my diamond focus on the garden path of the muse, open, aware just walking through, even confused, you mean my images of paradise were drawn in too permanent as the myths, placards of legends Beaming with a strange and frightening beauty from chasing the lights that ascent into the heavens dreamy, daring, absurdly hoping, all the read claiming Lord knows, enamored with you, so take these pretty copper arrows good for aiming up beyond, that remind me, been on my own so long
0
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 5:01 PM UTC
Roadhouse Sheet Music
Dear Andy, Thank you and Goodbye. 2/24/11 A deep tiresome passion has been building up inside me, And it’s been two months and six days since I last saw you. At the beach is where I’ll find you and is where I soon will be. We’ll see each other and I’ll recover because you’ll be next to me. Soft and smooth are your curly brown locks, And sweet and luscious are your round small lips. The scent of you with all your letters in my little green box, Now I see your green eyes and feel your warm finger tips. Slow and seductive are the long whispers I keep, And it’s your voice I hear daily with little hope. In my dreams is where I’ll find you as I fall into sleep, And in the sunset we do paddle in the swan love boat. 2/27/11 The sand is in between the keyboard keys and caked onto my knees, With a glass of wine at ten thirty in the morning I sit only broken hearted A night together on the beach I had planned for two months, but you lied to me All a lie, you scammed me how could I have been out smarted. Lying together all day, and drinking late into night, Only to crawl to the twin bed in the early hours of the morning. You’d caress me as I sleep and hold me until awoken by sunlight. Soon you must leave to go home, but I will visit soon and bring you loving. Two months have passed and most days we’ve spoken, But it seems now another girl found her way into the picture. Without a word you have lured me here only to leave me broken. You praise her and I watch just like a permanent wall fixture. Thanks for the lies, and all the wasted time. This is the end of the all the extra feelings. My life is taking a rapid U-turn without you in line. Please enjoy her company while I stand here dying.   Sincerely, Sofi Lilly
0
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 6:39 AM UTC
Dear Andy, Thank you and Goodbye
Dear Andy, Thank you and Goodbye. 2/24/11 A deep tiresome passion has been building up inside me, And it’s been two months and six days since I last saw you. At the beach is where I’ll find you and is where I soon will be. We’ll see each other and I’ll recover because you’ll be next to me. Soft and smooth are your curly brown locks, And sweet and luscious are your round small lips. The scent of you with all your letters in my little green box, Now I see your green eyes and feel your warm finger tips. Slow and seductive are the long whispers I keep, And it’s your voice I hear daily with little hope. In my dreams is where I’ll find you as I fall into sleep, And in the sunset we do paddle in the swan love boat. 2/27/11 The sand is in between the keyboard keys and caked onto my knees, With a glass of wine at ten thirty in the morning I sit only broken hearted A night together on the beach I had planned for two months, but you lied to me All a lie, you scammed me how could I have been out smarted. Lying together all day, and drinking late into night, Only to crawl to the twin bed in the early hours of the morning. You’d caress me as I sleep and hold me until awoken by sunlight. Soon you must leave to go home, but I will visit soon and bring you loving. Two months have passed and most days we’ve spoken, But it seems now another girl found her way into the picture. Without a word you have lured me here only to leave me broken. You praise her and I watch just like a permanent wall fixture. Thanks for the lies, and all the wasted time. This is the end of the all the extra feelings. My life is taking a rapid U-turn without you in line. Please enjoy her company while I stand here dying.   Sincerely, Sofi Lilly
Continue reading...
33
Sometimes I just want to give up on life These past 3 years have blasted me with so much strife No one truly understands what it's like to be me They talk down to me and that makes me so angry Saying whatever they **** well please I'm forced to just put up with it; geeze! Since life is so unfair I think to myself "Why should I even care?" Nobody else does and its warped my mindset I no longer give the benefit of the doubt. I assume the worse of everyone. So many of my "friends" had shown me their true colors And I hate that I gave them my friendship in the first place. They certainly didn't deserve it. Giovanna, Olivia, Melissa You three girls affected me the worse. I wish I had never met any of you. You did me so ***** when you unfriended me. I constantly wish you regret your decision but it's not likely. I don't even want to mention the women that scammed, extorted and blackmailed me. They are not worthy of still being in my head I keep them there tho so as not to repeat my mistakes.
0
Nov 2, 2021
Nov 2, 2021 at 1:53 PM UTC
My Mistakes
We live for work While being on vacation Still at the job, still getting scammed While others are making millions Ruining the country World and nation. They put us on plantations To be corporate guinea pig's. Teaching boys to stay little boys Knocking men down to the misery bench. We take pride in our friends and family doing good Seeing them make it. The corporations love to break that, for the purpose of power Money hungry, seeing you dead dumbed and a delinquent
0
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 11:21 PM UTC
Old and young delinquent
Times Over The Fake God gloated and said 'Hey mate I win this round and for good' He nodded and replied yes you win here But not for good tho I'll accept the NTE No disputes as numbers don't lie Yes boss I know I failed in sales Do what you will transfer or fire me I'll transfer you to collections Brian went on to say why did you Follow me four times over Asia? I worked in Bangkok and Manila In Pattaya and San Fernando You stalked me the same companies I'd get it if we were pals You're a fair boss but not my friend Excellent at sales better than me Yet you scammed one time and was Booted out on the B2B account I went to Bankgok you followed me! Brought your Wallflower along It's fine I ignored you both and now I listen to your whys on my sales I'm not as good as you tho did ok boss I did my best and that's fine for me Now you transfer me to collections Normally that would be fine It's not now and I'll tell you why Fake God looked surprised He was to the point My Time in Asia and the BPO is over I'm off back to Germany and elsewhere Thanx for the B2B experiences No more calls I'm outa here Have a nice life boss!
0
Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 9:26 AM UTC
Times Over
I am a blankhead writer. I wrote a nonsense poem. I write a pointless prose. I used to sell my 1000 words of claptrap for a one dollar bill to the low market publishers in town for a hopeless living. I used to walk on the busy street of Metropolis looking for job-flyers. I was scammed, robbed, snatched and been kidnapped. I even been tortured to death but managed to survive. I am a blankhead writer. I am a blankhead writer. I dreamt to be a famous author in town. I imagined my scap works on the best seller bookstands in the corner of the bookstores. I tried to call myself brilliant despite of my incapabilities---mind incapabilities to be exact. I am a blankhead writer. I am a blankhead writer. Like how I used to be. I wrote a nonsense poem. I write a pointless prose. I usually forget the goals along the way. I always choose raw emotions over witty decisions. I always make a plan for everything and give up. I let every little opportunity slides on my hand. I wonder how I called myself a writer. Maybe because, I am a blankhead writer. I am a blankhead writer. Alive but barely living. Trying to keep up on everything that was left behind. Dreaming but can’t find the urge catching up. Losing tracks continually. Lost determination, inspiration, everything to keep myself moving. Yes, I was indeed a blankhead writer. I am a blankhead writter. I loved and been loved. I leave and was left behind. Was hurt just how every human named it. I cried, so hard that I even want to **** my eyes out from it’s socket. I starved just how the poor lost child felt along the busy street. I fought and I lose. I have been bewitched and have never been reclaimed. I am a blankhead writer. I am the blankhead writer. Yes, its me. . I wrote this nonsense poem. I wrote the pointless prose. I know nothing but breathing. I never fought for the right nor speak for the good. I never look in the eyes of those old weak men I met in the road. I am afraid and scared. I am heartless and brainless. I have nothing but dead conscience. I have ... I have nothing because – I am the blankhead writer.
0
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 8:56 AM UTC
Nonsense
I am a blankhead writer. I wrote a nonsense poem. I write a pointless prose. I used to sell my 1000 words of claptrap for a one dollar bill to the low market publishers in town for a hopeless living. I used to walk on the busy street of Metropolis looking for job-flyers. I was scammed, robbed, snatched and been kidnapped. I even been tortured to death but managed to survive. I am a blankhead writer. I am a blankhead writer. I dreamt to be a famous author in town. I imagined my scap works on the best seller bookstands in the corner of the bookstores. I tried to call myself brilliant despite of my incapabilities---mind incapabilities to be exact. I am a blankhead writer. I am a blankhead writer. Like how I used to be. I wrote a nonsense poem. I write a pointless prose. I usually forget the goals along the way. I always choose raw emotions over witty decisions. I always make a plan for everything and give up. I let every little opportunity slides on my hand. I wonder how I called myself a writer. Maybe because, I am a blankhead writer. I am a blankhead writer. Alive but barely living. Trying to keep up on everything that was left behind. Dreaming but can’t find the urge catching up. Losing tracks continually. Lost determination, inspiration, everything to keep myself moving. Yes, I was indeed a blankhead writer. I am a blankhead writter. I loved and been loved. I leave and was left behind. Was hurt just how every human named it. I cried, so hard that I even want to **** my eyes out from it’s socket. I starved just how the poor lost child felt along the busy street. I fought and I lose. I have been bewitched and have never been reclaimed. I am a blankhead writer. I am the blankhead writer. Yes, its me. . I wrote this nonsense poem. I wrote the pointless prose. I know nothing but breathing. I never fought for the right nor speak for the good. I never look in the eyes of those old weak men I met in the road. I am afraid and scared. I am heartless and brainless. I have nothing but dead conscience. I have ... I have nothing because – I am the blankhead writer.
Continue reading...
6
Divinity of the day, how true and overwhelming But that’s alright, you’ve given me sight God, that enthralled Lush, sunset boulevard torch A west Hollywood Rimbaud Scammed and scorched, running, but still breathing New age wild west muse Like midnight’s request for sweetness as music and dreams A rageling songstress on the longest roadway, sacrificing my best If I give you all my songs will you feel alright, lush Take me for all that I am? That much, run with the immense Learning everything, even how to bless With my roadhouse sheetmusic illustrating my life’s inspiration adorned walls, sad ending I was lost but playing it off, until my racing heart reached Time future and said, soul, believe what’s in store, Outrageous dose Beaming with strange and frightening beauty From chasing the lights that ascent into the heavens Dreamy, daring, absurdly hoping, all the real claiming Lord knows, I’m enamored with the purely copper arrows Aimed at heights, long and lonely paths for the Songs of death, of life, wilderness and good times With my diamond focus On the garden path of the wise, open, aware Just walking thru, even confused, you mean My images of paradise were drawn in diamond too? Permanent as the myths, legends, poetry?
0
Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 6:57 PM UTC
Strikes Again
I fell in love with a Liar One that hurt me and betrayed me It made me feel like I was special and unique I fell in love with a Monster One that scared me and hid from me It welcomed me with a warm smile and open arms I fell in love with a Phony One that cheated me and scammed me It held promises for a beautiful and prosperous future I fell in love with a Demon One that tore and ripped me apart It had seemed so sweet and sincere I fell in love with an Illness I fell in love with Anorexia I fell in love with a killer Thankfully . . . I'm no longer in love
0
Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 12:28 AM UTC
In Love
By:Cedric McClester They smoke, they drink And fornicate Then claim a religion That they must hate While trying to form A new caliphate Made up of gullible people Led by an apostate He’s studied Qu’ran And got a degree But routinely misleads Muslim wannabes By proselytizing He makes ‘em agree With his twisted logic On how things should be At the risk of redundancy Let me restate What I’ve said before He’s an apostate With his own religion That’s comprised of hate And most of the uumah Does not relate Some call him Sheikh Other imam But I call him apostate Cuz I don't give a **** Despite all his followers Who’ve been programmed Into believing his dogma See they've just been scammed Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015.  All rights reserved.
0
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 5:44 PM UTC
APOSTATE
At a gypsy’s stall in Soria, Spain It was a beautiful market day His tables were filled with French made shoes Recommended by our friend Renaye A cute pair of shoes caught Bernadette’s eye They were tied up with 2 brocade bows All covered with pink and orange flowers With low heels and gold-tipped pointed toes “No mas”, said he, there was no size forty Only Bern found those shoes in her size Then we happily tried on so many Buying 6 pair we thought were great buys Counting our shoes 2 by 2 into bags The gypsy’s crooked smile seemed funny We both grinned, too, with all our swell new shoes Purchased with sixty euros of our money Strolling we stopped at the York seeking churros Too late, we had fresh croissants instead I decided to try on my new sandals there That led right to the trouble, Bern said While awaiting the bus to the village We both carefully held all our shoes And watched a man with a rose in his teeth I asked why, but not given a clue Once arriving back home to the village Feeling quite tired from walking around Bern showed her shoes to Jose at the bar Sad to learn one shoe couldn’t be found! Yes, we retraced our steps in search of it And twice-to check at the York- someone ran Jose searched the bus, but right from the start She thought she’d been scammed by the gypsy man We had to go back, only on Thursday A leisurely pace, eating churros Yes we did get the shoe but discovered We were over-charged by 20 euros
0
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
A Gypsy's Stall in Soria
I'll wait, Like I wait. So I wait, And, I wait. Give me something To sedate, So my hate Will not break, Free, from myself, And destroy you, Like it does, Like it has Destroyed me, Who I was. Who I am Is now ****** Cause you've scammed Me, and my mind, To think time Is just fine, To waste. While I wait, Like I wait. And I wait, So, I hate.
0
Feb 7, 2011
Feb 7, 2011 at 5:02 PM UTC
So, I hate.
Be aware that There are stupid dudes Out there posing as the Australian government to tell people They have got a tax refund But they are just scammers after your money because all you really Need to do, dudes is Check your financial papers (mine is mygov) To see if you have a tax refund due If you don’t, oh well you know it’s a scam Don’t fall for it, dudes There is maybe no tax refund From these people They just want your bank details So they can scam you out of Lots of cash Don’t fall for it Money isn’t easy to get your hands on Nothing is free There is no such thing as a free lunch Ok well I am saying Don’t get scammed
0
Jun 21, 2023
Jun 21, 2023 at 8:43 PM UTC
don't get scammed dudes