"sceme" poems
Write it down
10 times then
Erase it again
My mind is
Racing again
Emotions
raging again
My eraser is gone
Before I even
sharpen the pencil
another line I delete
And I sigh in defeat
I hate what I write
I can't stick to beat
I swear that I can
Rhyme mean
If only I could pick a
Rhyme sceme
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 5:47 PM UTC
You can say you don't care
Or wish me away,
But I'll always notice your stare
When you really want me to stay.
Just go through the day
Pretending that everything is fine,
Just keep resisting to say
That you wish you were mine.
I know you want your feelings
To be hidden away,
But please then allow me to say;
You are my free verse love poem,
Not the rhyme,
Not the theme,
Not the time,
Nor the sceme.
You're my breath
Your my beat
You're my smile
And my C4.
You make me want more;
Love to give to you,
Smiles to return.
Heartbeats to increase.
You make me want more,
More than C4.
You are my free verse love poem,
Oh I'm so glad
That I know him.
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 2:57 PM UTC
My mother
was born
twenty-seven years
before I was,
so is that
ahead of me,
or is that
behind me,
so me
being younger
come later
in the sceme of things
so that makes me older,
or does it?
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 11:49 AM UTC
There once was a man
who lived on down da bayou
went crabbing for his amors etouffee but before he got to dat bayou
he picked up his bon amigo
then dey headed down highway 41
Well the trip was going smooth
as the wind be blowin til they stopped at the station for some pane upon arriving to dat station it was being robbed for its payment and now they got a 3rd in company
Its been a long time coming, who dat cajun running, said he must've lived on down the road. Ain't stopped for no crawdads ya know they dont know where dey at, the ole creole man be ramblin again. Dey been back and forth, up and down, fought like a mule, acted a clown, dont think dey known theys right from left. Mason jar of daniels, open road in the high beams. Ain't no telling the cajun man's dream and his podners sceme.
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 4:19 AM UTC
The spin to my records, Scream
Makes it all easier
To face the music
Relentless trouble
And I drown it all out with noise
A choice between Hell and America
Heaven now too good for anyone
I perish between
The perfect and righteous
The flawed, Rip the hostages
I've trapped
In my mind
They are chained and scarred by my mistakes
That in the moment were choices opposed
To a dead end
My screams now level
Only an octave higher
From the massacre I've deserved
I've been targeted
After...
All the abuse and trauma I caused
How could I have known then?
My mind once creating scenarios on how
I'd sceme my way into getting what I craved
I, deprived of what was not needed
Just wanted it so bad
Those I've hurt
I'd never hurt again
If given all tools and resources to do such
I'd use them upon my soul
To dispose of reek planted by shame
You live and learn
And all my knowledge now
Is put on hold until
Their hurt
Mirrors mine
Resembling
Shattered plastic
Because I'm stubborn
And Glass too fragile
Reminds me of a relic reflection
Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 6:12 PM UTC