"sensible" poems
Deceive me
Lie to me
**** with my head
On the edge of the cliff
Then you pull me to bed
Your love is a drug
*** with you gets me high
I’m a full blown ******
Makes no sense; don’t know why
You're an ever present torment
The fission laser splitting my mind
A jig-saw puzzle that was completed
Slowly each piece from each piece you unbind
Seductively you tear me down
Like the clothing you disrobe
A deer staring into headlights
I am frozen on the road
The weight of the world bearing down on me
As those focused beams get closer
Gladly I welcome them
Even though I’m not supposed to
Every rational thought I have
tells me how wrong you are for me
But they are drowned and muffled out
No more thoughts; keep your pennies
No sensible way to explain
Why I ******* love you so much
You’re a psychotic crazy *****
that I don’t want anyone else to touch
A blowtorch ignites a flame
A fire fierce and burning bright
Even though I know it will burn me
With all my gathered strength and might
All it takes from you is that look
You cast that Vampire’s gaze and grin
Instantaneously my defenses lowered
and you know you’ve ****** me in
Immerse myself into the flame
Intense pain; you melt my skin
Until pain I feel no more
I’m enveloped in your sin
And like a ****** choosing dope
Everyday, your sin I’ll take
I will gladly sell my soul
The most egregious of mistakes
A preying succubus appears
like a dreamy demoness
A world of dreams are turned to nightmares
Fills her needs for human flesh
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 10:39 PM UTC
Lady of Silence
from the winsome cage of
thy body
rose
through the sensible
night
a
quick bird
(tenderly upon
the dark’s prodigious face
thy
voice
scattering perfume-gifted
wings
suddenly escorts
with feet
sun-sheer
the smarting beauty of dawn)
20k
Consider Icarus, pasting those sticky wings on,
testing that strange little tug at his shoulder blade,
and think of that first flawless moment over the lawn
of the labyrinth. Think of the difference it made!
There below are the trees, as awkward as camels;
and here are the shocked starlings pumping past
and think of innocent Icarus who is doing quite well.
Larger than a sail, over the fog and the blast
of the plushy ocean, he goes. Admire his wings!
Feel the fire at his neck and see how casually
he glances up and is caught, wondrously tunneling
into that hot eye. Who cares that he fell back to the sea?
See him acclaiming the sun and come plunging down
while his sensible daddy goes straight into town.
13.3k
I come from sunlight,
The sweeping of leaves,
South London streets,
Lurburnum seeds;
Hot semolina,
A spoonful of jam,
Hands full of gooseberries,
That's who I am.
I come from rose petals,
The sound of the fairs,
The smell of candyfloss
Mist in the air;
I come from warmth,
My parents hands,
Outings to parks,
Both small and grand.
I come from knowledge,
True and false,
From nursery rhymes,
And stories and pictures of God;
I come from gentleness,
A quiet afternoon,
From visions of loveliness,
Sewn on a spool.
I come from two worlds,
With different ways,
A threaded pearl necklace,
And sensible soles
A mother and father,
I think I knew,
I came and I wandered,
I looked at the view.
By Mary **
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 7:33 AM UTC
They said
Don’t wear leggings
Or a shirt that shows your cleavage
Because you need to be covered up
You’re a distraction
They said
Don’t use your period as an excuse
For male teachers to let you go to the bathroom
Because you’re not fooling anybody
They said
Don’t shave your head
Boys can
You can’t and don’t
And won’t because we’ll suspend you
They said
Watch the length of your skirt
The colour of your hair
The shoes and makeup
The piercings
And they call that fair
They said
Come to us if something is wrong
if you’re feeling bullied
if you feel unsafe
I guess they don’t remember asking my friend and I
if we heard of anyone in our year with suicidal tendencies
They asked us because
We were the sensible ones
The bright ones
We couldn't have been depressed.
I guess they didn’t see my panic
and my hand squeezing my wrist.
Because school
Is not a place
Where you can express who you are
School is not the place where you feel safe
It's a battle ground on the outside of your comfort zone.
School isn’t about education
Its a challenge, competition
Its a measurement of your capabilities
But what if you don't excel?
You’re called out for not being good enough
You're humiliated. Mocked.
You get looked down on
Judged
Embarrassed
And you don’t get your
Degree
As if a degree explains who you are
What you’ve been through
How much you’re worth
As if a degree
Measures the capacity
Of your heart
And your knowledge
And a teacher can share your grade
Make a joke and smirk
Cause they think you’re not worth it
And they can laugh and yell and call your parents
Who don’t think you’re any better.
Because year after year they’ve been led to believe
that you’re easily distracted
that you don’t do what you’re told
that you’re rebellious
Because even if you showed respect to the hypocrisy
That you can't help but notice,
They still won’t understand that you're just fighting
for what you believe is right, for mutual respect.
Because that’s not what you were thought.
You were thought to raise your hand when you want to speak.
And even if you made a valid point
You would still get lectured on putting your hand up when you want to speak.
Discipline put first.
And that is my definition of school
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 4:45 PM UTC
having the low down blues and going
into a restraunt to eat.
you sit at a table.
the waitress smiles at you.
she's dumpy. her *** is too big.
she radiates kindess and symphaty.
live with her 3 months and a man would no real agony.
o.k., you'll tip her 15 percent.
you order a turkey sandwich and a
beer.
the man at the table across from you
has watery blue eyes and
a head like an elephant.
at a table further down are 3 men
with very tiny heads
and long necks
like ostiches.
they talk loudly of land development.
why, you think, did I ever come
in here when I have the low-down
blues?
then the the waitress comes back eith the sandwich
and she asks you if there will be anything
else?
snd you tell her, no no, this will be
fine.
then somebody behind you laughs.
it's a cork laugh filled with sand and
broken glass.
you begin eating the sandwhich.
it's something.
it's a minor, difficult,
sensible action
like composing a popular song
to make a 14-year old
weep.
you order another beer.
jesus,look at that guy
his hands hang down almost to his knees and he's
whistling.
well, time to get out.
pivk up the bill.
tip.
go to the register.
pay.
pick up a toothpick.
go out the door.
your car is still there.
and there are 3 men with heads
and necks
like ostriches all getting into one
car.
they each have a toothpick and now
they are talking about women.
they drive away first
they drive away fast.
they're best i guess.
it's an unberably hot day.
there's a first-stage smog alert.
all the birds and plants are dead
or dying.
you start the engine.
11.1k
Three kids sit in a beech tree, high above a stream.
The eldest at the top
The youngest two branches below
And the middle child one below him.
Stupid,
brave
and sensible.
Each one of them grasping out... farther than they had first anticipated
To reach the next limb of the tree.
They watch the sun set over long grass
and are content not to talk.
Just to be there.
They have argued all day but they know with absolute certainty
they will forgive each other by tomorrow.
Because that is what it means to have siblings.
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 5:39 PM UTC
I'm not too lucky when I gamble
I lose more than I win
I would probably do better
If I tossed my money in a bin
Gambling is not just luck
It's timing and some skill
Some gamble for the fun of it
Some gamble for the thrill
To define exactly what it means
To risk money that you've earned
Means throwing out sensible thought
And not heeding what you've learned
For example, I played poker
And I lost most every cent
I lost my mortgage payment
Now, I'm living in a tent
To win it back I chose to go
And bet double at the track
The first horse that I bet on
Fell and broke his back
The second horse was scratched
I was in for a bad night
My fifth horse only had three legs
And he could just turn right
The next one had a jockey
Who's eyes were badly crossed
I won't tell you how he finished
But, I'll tell you that he lost
To gain back my small pittance
I went to the greyhound track
My first dog had a rider
A small monkey on his back
In the third race I got daring
And I bet on number three
Once the race got started
He had to stop and ***
I picked a dog in the fifth race
Just because I liked his name
It was the best one I had ever heard
"I'MBETYOU'RESORRYTHATYOUCAME"
The odds were long but what the hell
I was now gambling just for fun
Not only did he catch the rabbit
My ****** dog had won
I think I've got the secret now
I know just how to win
If I get tempted to go back and bet
I'll throw my money in the bin.
Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 5:16 PM UTC
R Red moon came to soon the red "Viper" love spoon
E Energy trembles hearts race eluding like the Dodge Viper
D Devil red ****** moons demolition Dodge of technology
M The moon of darkness dissolves like lava "Hot Male"
O Orderly overindulgence the moon at a comfortable rhythm
O Out of touch slowly getting back to your outstanding body
N New Age High noon time Eqyptian Nile moon neverending
S Shift of energy simplicity strengthens your existence
T Truly love for the family the moons makes a celebration
A- Able so articulate touch the moon lover fate
R Robin bird flies manifest the ruler the rider risque delighter
S Sensible and a seductive moon she is superstitious
C Circle of light sacred chalice not to be malice
An Amorous depth of feeling delicious Moon love key luxury
R Rituals turns to purity racing minds of sanity ♥ Car Vipers ♥
V Vampires blood moon lessons to be learned
I Ingenious Free yourself from anger all love inked
P Patience is a virtue Moon true Periwinkle blue
E Ecstasy the moon turns on the celebration of love
R Recollection of moon poems time to be Reborn
S Sensational Venus Soulmate of cars Sultry Valentine moon
I can't wait to come home soon that was a trip to my moon.
°• Dodge Viper •°”˜. zoomed off to the Red Moon
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 9:50 AM UTC
The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey—
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter—
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular,
A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there’s still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover—
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.
6.9k
an incredible incite (the ruthless volatility of words)
~for L.B.~
the only place of solitaire solitude in the city accompanies me
like a faithful country dog that doesn’t know better to be afraid,
of moving cars, sleepless night terrors and unscripted “dreams”
where image and words say come “follow me” with ruthlessness and no cloying come hither looks and
see and take and recall with perfect midnight blue sky clarity for
the incredible incite of credible insight
surfacing unexpectedly in a intemperate pool of slushy snow,
that will be an ice storm of painful confrontations with naked
inner truths standing outside in sunny sub zero playground
there is great risk. volatility gone wild. when the speed
governor is removed and you live at 100 mph on local streets,
when the merest slight of an accidental incidental touch
transforms into an incite incident and hell is the threat
that you will not die today and your own words will ruthless
pull from the nerve places where sensible and sensual cannot
coexist and this write this script is a poetical insight inside, an
incredible incite and what your spilling is spaghetti sauce blood
when you left your brain on broil, instead of the faking daily of
slow simmering ineffectual intellectual words that just don’t
cut the crap. your addiction complete, you cannot live without
the incredible incite, the ruthless volatility of words,
otherwise why rough write what you see
in the blind
beyond the blind
1/6/18 5:03am
Jan 6, 2018
Jan 6, 2018 at 5:17 AM UTC
Always a man to believe,
Always a man to dream a dream,
Always a man it seems and it seems Always a man he breaks out,
Takes his chance Always a man.
Always a man significant,
Always a man he's brave and decent,
Always a man who haves and havenots,
Favours his chances Always a man
Always a man who believe's that he can't,
Always a man a deep thinker then shalt,
Always a man in no shadow of doubt
Always a man pours out sensible,
Learns his rights Always a man.
Always a man a gambler he can,
Always a man lived life and he won,
Always a man risk, twist, stick craps up his tricks,
Always a man watches his mind all about,
A beat to his dance Always a man.
Always a man Sinatra he sang,
Always a man with a dodgy plan,
Always a man that's for sure,
Always a man short sharp ponders out,
In any circumstance Always a man.
Always a man peaceful and proud,
Always a man targets his pay,
Always a man working harder each day,
Always a man in with a shout,
To no shadow of a doubt Always a man.
Always a man he drinks lemonade,
Always a man look what he made,
Always a man with his masquerade,
Always a man with his dollar and bill
Send him on as Always a man,
Always a man not paid what to do,
Always a man to figure a fool,
Always a man safe safe and he saved
Always a man in an ocean of shout.
Sailing calms a human Always a man.
Always a man with a God given skill,
Always a man with a will and a will,
Always a man who leads a private suitcase,
Always a man with a bit of clout,
Then angel shy silence 'Always a man'
Doctors Orders.
O'Reily@21082014
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
Benedict Arnold
We see them. Lying in the terrorist trap known as
The Uncomformers. What happened to them?
Did they say enough is enough? Stab their
Old buddies in their already turned backs? Well,
I guess some people just don’t understand….
Look at them!
They’re laughing!
How preposterous! They’re supposed to be lamenting or even just
Giving hushed whispers to someone about everyone else.
I can’t fathom—
How absurd!
The Good Girls
Ohhhhhh My Gosh! Can you like,
See how lame they are?
They just, like, don’t do anything.
I mean, I have never seen any of them at, like, any party!
Crazy! I know. They just keep to themselves,
I guess. But, I mean, come on? No parties!
Do they even know what fun is!?
Last night there was this really awesome one where,
I was dancing…..and drinking….and then I threw up in my boyfriend’s car!
Oh yeah,
Were exes now.
Anyway, I just, like, IDK.
I mean, who wouldn’t want to have the ultimate makeup and beauty?
It’s mind-blowing!
I swear their worlds are all, aerobics and songbirds.
But, whatever, you know?
Peacemaker
Talk about irritating. I hate people
Who stop fights before the crescendo finishes!
Bor-ring! Drama is what I live for.
Just let people ruin their lives already!
I’m dying for some action over here.
Hel-lo! Your “sensible justice” is causing me to have serious
Gossip underload. Stop getting in the
Way of everything! If you would just come in
One second after you usually do, there would be so
Much more to say.
It would be beyond belief if you just,
Go where you belong and stop
Interrupting before some of the most spectacular
Moments in people’s lives.
Iron King
This person is not so simple.
Loners that shield themselves from the world
Freaks that don’t want to experience reality
Maybe he’s evil
Attempting to hide a dark inheritance
Living in his mind, the Devil’s oasis
Visions of wonder and agony expressed throughout
Sending out blind waves of hatred to all who will not follow him into Hell.
Super creep.
I hope he leaves me alone.
I haven’t done anything to him…
May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 12:07 PM UTC
You are my only hope
The truth that dealt the consequence
I know you don't feel the same
You're sensible but it doesn't make sense
I know I'm gonna weep my heart out
You know I'm gonna try much harder
But it isn't the thoughts in my head
Pulling me under this time
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
Abraham
Where is your son
He's lying dead
On a street in Lebanon
And the God of your fathers
Has left you alone
Wrap him in a white shroud
Cry out loud
Any sensible God
Took the first train out
r
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
Not an amulet, an off white vertebrae; bone.
Brass wire, a loop at one end.
It bends as to make sure this will fit.
A gauge that measures mesmerization,
And we both must get along, but
Not because we're not tough enough:
Most of us aren't soft right yet.
So many stiffs, folly after folly.
The whole carful of loose cadavers,
Dangling, their feet hang with wet snow
And carnage,
Not even musk deer pop up,
They've all gone. Roosting in a parabol,
With X's sprayed to their groins.
Burning pop couples
Doing it like laboratory mice. Capybaras
Hiss, my own burnt blood is also
Flocculating.
Turn the cup upside down and
See the fire's balmy lachrymal opaque
Moss while it does not drip.
This is the story of man you asked me about;
Devoid of a muzzle, fur onto his chest; coarse
Hair in a garland.
It is the God of a tool that buzzes into the night.
A plateau for this most sensible study.
We feel another coming.
And when you awoke, your larval tongue
My eye mush, a song of verse and melancholy.
This half list of greatness, a tally we both wish to see.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:38 AM UTC
my mind has deeply forgotten my relevance to the world
because these compulsive movements are beginning to engulf my sanity
but i loathe every second of not being able to feel something impossible
because i’ve been able to surge into the depths of my own soul
to prove that happiness can and will exist under the sensible psyche
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
There are periods that need to be put at the end of sentences that started with a thought, rambled onto paragraphs that branched into multiple ambitious topics that was then left hanging in jumbled confusion half-way through time. In the endless strings of unecessary conjunctions, painful careless adjectives, and inappropriate prepositions, a simple period, used at the end of a completed, sensible sentence, one in which you put an effort to complete, regardless of the distracting pauses of time...a perfect period like that could go a long, long way. It ends THAT sentence so that another, more mature, wiser, more sensible one that could bring forth beautiful thoughts in endless paragraphs, could then begin.
Such is the language of life.
Such is the power of a period.
It is called closure.
Sometimes, we should use more periods in our lives,
to make our sentences clear.
Yes.
Period.
Dec 23, 2009
Dec 23, 2009 at 6:56 PM UTC
Why Men Like to Load the Dishwasher
We are the artists of shape and configuration,
puzzle masters solving riddles of physics,
worshipers at the altar of labor saving devices,
this is a love poem of sorts, a Bazinga salutation,
to men and their undying love
for **** machines.
were it in my power
all cups would be handle-less,
the dishwasher time-space continuum
would be non-interrupted by black holes
where handles pointlessly protrude,
requiring endless rearrangement,
a soul destroying exercise.
bowls of any sort should have bottoms that retract.
indeed, the capacity increase, a visible fact,
is so enviro-friendly, eminently sensible,
that the loading for mechanical scrubbing
is deserved of a wing in the Smithsonian.
perhaps the budgeteers of Congress
should be tutored in this artistry,
how to make any limited resource,
better used.
the rub, as the bard would have writ,
is that this roaring tempest-tost,
our love for hard labor lost,
secret sacrificed behind a locked door,
of a Sanctum ********
is entirely due, all glory to,
the secret society of fairies who
hide-reside inside,
freeing us to write more poetry.
in so many ways that I cannot reveal,
less the other gender members squeal,
men live to love to load the dishwasher,
for the ingenuity challenge, and of course,
the side benefit of the excusing coverup,
"I helped clean up," a relationship saver,
proof positively that the dishwasher inventor,
was surely a brilliant woman
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 8:26 AM UTC
Yes. I am ****** not a beast.
Why do you scoff at me?
Was it my wish to be so?
Had you wished to be a man?
And you too to be a woman?
The sun never fades away to see me.
The stars never stop shimmering.
The moon never goes into hiding.
The breeze never stops blowing.
The clouds never draw back.
All these angels fully know.
The Almighty made me different.
And all are same under the sky.
Are you so sensible so wise?
Would you stop me from rising?
You are melting day by day.
Then?
Let me breathe easily
Or He is ready to drop His wrath.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 1:36 AM UTC
If your Philosophy
Believes
Just on reasons
Yet denies harmony
If it
Isn’t sensible
To adopt
Winning without fighting
If it
Does not bridges
You to me
My apology
I’m not interested in
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 7:56 AM UTC
When I put her out, once, by the garbage pail,
She looked so limp and bedraggled,
So foolish and trusting, like a sick poodle,
Or a wizened aster in late September,
I brought her back in again
For a new routine--
Vitamins, water, and whatever
Sustenance seemed sensible
At the time: she'd lived
So long on gin, bobbie pins, half-smoked cigars, dead beer,
Her shriveled petals falling
On the faded carpet, the stale
Steak grease stuck to her fuzzy leaves.
(Dried-out, she creaked like a tulip.)
The things she endured!--
The dumb dames shrieking half the night
Or the two of us, alone, both seedy,
Me breathing ***** at her,
She leaning out of her *** toward the window.
Near the end, she seemed almost to hear me--
And that was scary--
So when that snuffling ****** of a maid
Threw her, *** and all, into the trash-can,
I said nothing.
But I sacked the presumptuous hag the next week,
I was that lonely.
3.9k
algorithmic street signs
with altruistic elegance
senses and the sensible
of whom Socrates is enviable
a heron, preferring solid ground
but taking to the skies with pride
for she knows that she'll accomplish both
because when born she made her oath
"dear lord, they're all asking you
to give them what they have not
but all that i would ask from you
is to give me the courage not to choose"
and so today she sings her songs
metallic and melodic, perfect balance,
and she knows she's never going to fall
because if you're in the middle, there's no gravity at all
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC
readily acknowledge our highest standard of luna loving madness
we treat our luna connection with equality -
great affection as well as sensible trepidation,
for its transgender nature, though well disguised,
is but surficial, that we all ken, when compared to
***** bewitching covens who in the forest deepest dens,
exclaim their aroused allegiance over and over and over again
but so so many lunatics lurking in the poetic coven, who knew!
do not ask all the luna~ticced poets to step forward,
unless you wish to crash the internet's servers whom I'm told,
who too, are silent secret devotees
who among us has not scribed truth and lies, when standing outside, greeting the divine presence
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 8:04 PM UTC