"sesh" poems
A sesh.
An exchange of ideas.
A meeting of men, women.
A gathering of peers.
A collection of the open-minded.
At a place of happiness.
A place with no problems. No stress.
All you have to do is pass and share.
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 4:49 PM UTC
Me and the squad
Rippin' bowls on the hill
I says "hey baud,
we aint fried still!"
My boy says "I know, ****
where'd we get this kush?"
An answer from Schmidt
"Growing in the bush"
We smoked poison ivy
**** you Schmidt.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
I am literally about to scream.
At my own ******* teammates.
Stop the comments about her.
Stop putting her on the side of "I know why he's being why he's being"
No you don't.
You have no idea even half the situation.
So just shut the **** up.
She's not a bad person, she's just had a rough life.
She's just a scared girl going through a hard time.
But honestly aren't we all?
Stop ******* judging her.
Worry about yourselves.
Please.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 2:08 AM UTC
fireworks erupt from our spark
your soft lips kiss my fractured heart
i feel safe and that makes me scared
not used to men who exhibit such care
used to men who shoot and scar
play with my crown only after you asked
kiss my pearls, hand slides down my back
keep me in mind, keep me in check
candle lit make out sesh, pomegranate red
passion enmeshing with my nervous head
Aug 11, 2023
Aug 11, 2023 at 10:12 AM UTC
the watermelon strikes an evening match
and crows a-roostin' on the adirondack
what wipporwill wouldn't ire o' that
with dungaree vest and wacky tobacc'
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 2:11 AM UTC
she was a peregrine
& appeared to me
shimmering in the
primordial morning
between purgatory & hell
talons like a crucial valve-handle
carrying me outside the gaudy dream
my heart's vagrancy
the latent tendency i had
of putting chemicals into my body
despite the ugly consequences
one man's poison
another man's high
now sunlight fractures into spectra
wind blows thru century-old oaks
becomes tangled in my
nipple-length blond hair
as we march hand-in-hand thru
these narrow streets
the pinched labyrinth
the last dusk light
this swamp
she was a peregrine
the hungarian turul
genteel brown eyes watching me
howl at the midnight moon
& yip like a fox at the first dawn light
now she shares her own
breathy yelps with the pillow
like fumes of lavender
sprayed in a strand of oaks
i know for a fact she has claws
she swore she'd never use them to hurt me
but sometimes i let her anyway
i need to feel those
dead fingernails buried
in my living shoulder-blades
propelling me into a new kind of manhood
redeeming my weaknesses
weaseling into my shorts
pains & insecurities
melting like cloud's spit down the windowpane
lazy & safe on a warm sunday
morning wrapped together in the skin
of this gyrating palace
this is no longer casual desire:
joni mitchell sound-tracked
our first makeout sesh
as stars bloomed fat
behind a surly multitude of clouds
over a tar-colored lake
so if you think i'm ever letting her go
you're a *******
pants-on-fire
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 3:48 PM UTC
I fell in love
with you for a minute
on a stranger's couch
funny
whip its
with a derby girl
a shameless makeout
sesh
in front of another
lesbian and a couple
strange bodies
disconnected
poetry
and some ***** in
a plastic cup
stolen metal chairs
in various colors
her braids
her shaved head
a symphony
to my defeat
I'm half-way out the door
but I can't get up off
this couch
she's taking my key
and pretty soon my car is gone
my so-called girlfriend
leaves me tearstained
voicemails
but while you're
here your lips
make me forget
every promise
I made this girl
she said
where you go I go
how quickly we forget
when we find ourselves
in the arms of another
and just like everything
else the promise disappears
an evaporated drop of
rain from the side window
of my re-poed car
I need to get that ink off
I need to get inked
to sober up before A.A.
to eat before this adderall
eats my insides
I want to feel a
lot more full
a lot more *******
full
say goodbye
you never knew me
a $2 bus ride
takes me where
I need to be
freezing hands
and the itchy
scars I sliced
into my arm
in the wrong
place the wrong
direction
I was never right to
begin with
a text message at
2AM "stay safe"
that's the extent
to which I'm cared
for
and that's good
enough for me
just so long as I
can afford smokes
and the key to
my car is safely
under the mat
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 4:11 PM UTC
Jammin to Californication,
While The Zephyr hums a tune.
While it may be to early for a Monarchy, the Roses are finally in bloom.
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 4:46 PM UTC
Rumblin' pavement roar 'lectrifies my soul,
Full focus eyes gaze cool on the fast lane,
Wind thrills chills through my hair as the wheels roll.
Feet firm as a diver, perfect control,
Tremors to send a normal man insane,
Rumblin' pavement roar 'lectrifies my soul.
Surf the concrete wave, curve the Ocean Bowl.
Take a gyrating trip outside the main.
Wind thrills chills through my hair as the wheels roll.
Careful for the cracks, they'll charge you a toll
Scraped shins, knees, knobby elbows, pain don't stain.
Rumblin' pavement roar 'lectrifies the soul.
Mind focus Buddha, the trucks kiss the pole.
A good sesh, I'd consider that set slain.
Wind thrills chills through my hair as the wheels roll
I'll always cruise, its like a summer stroll
With a lover, but I'm riding this train.
Rumblin' pavement roar 'lectrifies my soul,
Wind thrills chills through my hair as the wheels roll.
Dec 26, 2009
Dec 26, 2009 at 11:18 PM UTC
I scroll through Instagram and Facebook and there's even stuff on snapchat of all these people that are so happy and celebrating their dads and it's not fair. Because all I have is pictures to stare at and wish he was here but no matter how much I stare and scream and beg God... He's not gonna come back. No matter how much I miss how. How much I need him. How much I want him he's gona. And I'm never gonna be able to accept that. And it's 9:30 at night in summer and I should be out with friends but I'm not because I'm too sad so I'm just laying here in bed curled in a ball crying so hard I can't breathe writing this stupid ******* paragraph because he's never coming back... And I can't cope with that...
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 12:36 AM UTC
Smoke rolls off your lips
As raindrops drip
Off the roof, above where you sit
Barely missing the lit end
Of your cigarrette
And ill make you a bet
By the end of this night
None of this will mean ****
Youll be to drunk to remember it
Youll run down back alleys
With girls you jusy met from cali
Away from cops tryna tally
You up as an arrest
Rally the rest
Into a **** sesh like youre towlie
Find all your friends have left
Have to hitch-hike back to campus
A drunken high mess
But when the next test comes
Youll drink away your stress
Head to the closest party
Spend all your money on drugs, not rent
But when that doesnt help you vent
Climb into bed with that hottie you just met
Yeah *****
This is college
After this were all set... right?
Or should we think bout whats next? ... G'night
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
Sono sposata con un pilota e sono sicuro al 100% che non importa quanto duramente ** pregato .che non ha potuto ottenere le foto di fidanzamento questo freddo .Queste due devono avere alcune connessioni piuttosto sorprendente per avere Josh Dookhie Fotografia sparare loro sesh impegno sulla pista .Sono totalmente geloso .
Condividi questa splendida galleria
Da sposa.Una sessione day-to -tramonto impegno esclusivo sulla pista di Winnipeg James Armstrong Richardson International Airport .con scatti del suggestivo terminale vecchio prima che fosse abbattuto .
Non solo ci piace viaggiare .ma mio marito Nevin e ** incontrato all'aeroporto quando entrambi abbiamo lavorato lì.quindi era giusto che fosse l'impostazione per la nostra sessione di fidanzamento ** usato per lavorare lì abiti da sposa 2014 in Marketing durante il tempo che il nuovo edificio terminal è stato costruito.Nevin lavora ancora lì come elettricista campo d'aviazione .Ecco come siamo arrivati accesso alla possibilità piste - un quasi nessun altro sarebbe in grado di avere!Il padre di Nevin è stato anche un controllore del traffico aereo fino al suo ritiro .quindi nel complesso l'aeroporto è un posto speciale per noi e la nostra famiglia .
Nel momento in cui abbiamo fatto il servizio fotografico .il nuovo terminal aveva appena aperto ( che ha fornito una splendida cornice ) e il vestiti da sposa vecchio
terminal .dove avevamo incontrato - era stato abbattuto in un paio di settimane .E 'stato così speciale per noi essere in vestiti da sposa grado di ottenere scatti che caratterizzano sia gli edifici - il nostro passato e il nostro futuro
fotografia: Josh Dookhie Fotografia | Aeroporto : Winnipeg James Armstrong Richardson International Airport | Coordinamento + Styling : LouLou
http://www.belloabito.com/abiti-da-sposa-c-1
http://www.belloabito.com/goods.php?id=14
http://188.138.88.219/images_ld/td//t35/product_thumb/1/3803335353535_391851.jpg
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
Inhaling yellow
Smoke rushes through our veins.
You lay your body on ember ground next to mine;
Rolling over our eyes till speckles of ecstasy fill our vision.
I tilt my head back and look at you: Smooth rich coffee.
A decadent sculpted chest carved from Michelangelo centuries ago,
Your gleaming skin reflecting music.
Giggling through heaving lungs of fog,
We joke about your cold fingers writing cursive on my thighs:
A laborer’s hand gripping clouds.
You look at me and see pearly cream:
Resonant curls sprawled across the floor like my melting limbs,
Ready for you to turn me into red wine.
A ***** of heat hits another bowl
And smoke rises through the vents
To dance on your bonny blush lips.
You think I'm fragile
With my lace stockings and butterfly wing lids,
You could rip through my tissue coating.
We breathe in smog.
The air between our bones escapes: pupils dilate,
Flashes of bliss sparkling colors surround us till that is all we see.
Our souls, laying on the spinning floor,
Tearing the fabric from our bones
Till all is left is smoke and sweat.
Feb 18, 2021
Feb 18, 2021 at 4:39 PM UTC
I think if there is a heaven
it is just a living room attached to a pool
with the most comfortable chairs you've ever sat in
and speakers that play any song
mixed perfectly so the bass rattles your bones
and the treble makes your head ring.
The T.V is huge, and any movie is a snap away
You get to be the king and bring
all your closest friends, basically
a chill sesh that
never ends
May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
Trip Sitter Poem by Rob Sandman
We’ve all got a friend like this of course,
Istabraq, Seabiscuit the ould warhorse,
Snortin like a whale inhaling at the surface,
Smokes til just lookin’ at them makes your lungs hurt its-
Amazing grace while you’re off your face messed up,
They’re in the corner laughin' - not a hair mussed up,
**Not out of place in the place to be,
The opposite in fact a life saver to see,
Always at your back with a friendly shoulder,
A spliff, skins smokes-well timed glass of water**
Not immune or a ****** just seasoned,
When you’re lost-beyond all reason,
Lost the end of your sentence?-they’ve got it,
a well tuned part in the heart of the party chaotic,
The calm center of the whirlpool, Deadpool-
Quick with a line, not too cuttin’ but nobodies fool,
trip sitter, designated brain at the sesh,
A little OCD maybe, but nonetheless,
We’re all thankful with a full tankful
Its gas havin' a laugh knowin' you can bank full-
Confidence in your mates if you trip,
*But no mercy with the quips, quick! zip your lips
If you’re not in full control of the tongue,
They’ll be followin’ the slips and zip down your lungs
You’re a wounded gazelle on the plains and they’ll lunge,
Like a cheetah once you’ve taken the plunge*
I’m not talkin of only one person of course,
We all take turns as the tour de force-
goes round
**Like a Merry go round sound friends abound
While you’re bewildered the wildebeest takes the crown,
Don’t know about you, but I’m blessed with a few true-
Trip sitters babysitters life fitters diametrically opposed to bullshitters**
*Sideplitters with one liners that leave you gaspin’
For air beyond compare got the grasp and flavor
Best savour the moments-they’re all too few ,
Best friends are saviours who help you pull through,
So lets all give thanks to the big hitters,
Thanks lads and lasses I’m always grateful for me trip sitters!*
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 12:37 AM UTC
*We have always had that undeniable type of love
You know?
Whenever asked about one another, our cheeks would turn bright pink
And just as our lips curled upward to smile,
sweet words escaped from our mouth, no matter how tightly we tried to seal our smile
Who ever we ended up talking to
had to think our lover put all the stars in the sky
by the endless praise we gave one another
The kind of love that stained your sheets,
despite how clean they were
Our pictures have voices, next to our smiles you can hear us screaming "I love you...I love you with all I am"
Our voices became love,
we, in everything we do, have become love
The kind of love that made us encounter multiple strangers,
just so they could inform us of our obvious happiness and glee
I hope you never get new sheets
I hope you never bite me out from underneath your fingernails
I hope you never remove my stray hairs from your beard
after a long makeout sesh
I hope we are never apart long enough to where my scent fades out of your clothes*
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 1:49 PM UTC
I think I'm in love
with perfection disguised in
lonely broken souls
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 11:14 PM UTC
There be a tavern in the town.
Today, will be such a special one.
Sunshine and roses.
Several carnations.
Wedding party, out for fun,
Intermingled with everyday drinkers.
Outside in the sunny weather.
Smokers and drinkers,
Men in blue jeans and eye catching black leathers.
Today, should be a special day.
Women in fanciful fascinators, tight fitting dresses, silky tights.
Dancing on tables.
Long into the night.
A flagon of beer, a bottle of wine.
Discussing everything ironically.
With the rest of the crowd.
Which, one of them is mine or hers or even his.
Their drink that is.
Opinions change as the beverages flow.
Talking regular bull as the drink feeds the flow.
The flow of the conversation that is.
Loudly.
By the end of the night, knowing everyone's biz.
There is no volume control, evening flows on twisted tongues.
Look left, look right, straight in front of you, they're starting a fight.
Noise is enhanced by the wailing of sirens,
Those harpies with hairpins, sat on cheap plastic chairs.
Look out you lot, the blues and twos are coming.
Invading your space, just at that moment you're slapping her face.
Such a disgrace.
Bundled into the back of the van.
Two wrecked wretched women.
One stroppy man.
If nothing else fuels arguments, drink sure as hell can.
(c)LIVVI
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 9:49 AM UTC
The evidence lies
before your very eyes in the cardboard cities and the plastic tents, where poverty rents bedspace for the night.
No friends in here, only beer and **** and a passport someone drags across a sweating brow,
Insulation tape and heat does not escape, you'll learn this trick when you're down and out and you'll find that names do stick.
******
dosser
lounger
mission hall scrounger but what's in a name they call,
when you fall through the mesh have yourself another sesh' on the pipe, with the pin, supping out the dregs of one more tin.
When it rains, when the drains all overflow, when you know it's time to go and you don't know where, they'll be there taking strands of DNA from the few strands of the hair that you have left.
Cardboard cases cut out faces, barred from all those lovely places that we all take as our right
another bedspace for the night.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
Home sweet home
Where I can sit on my ***
With no need to roam
And no need to ask
Or research
What to do next
A good sesh of nothing
Sounds like the best
With no need to worry
About where to eat dinner
And when to meet friends
Order in trusty take out
Throw the kids in bed
Time to binge on light shows
Then sleep like the dead
NCL August 2019
Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 10:34 PM UTC
When your figure strikes me
I can only become one thing
Your humble servant, a devotee
With you as my enchanting king
Fascination flows through my veins
Only a scattering thoughts remain
The bewitching way you impel me to care
Or how brazenly you cause me to stare
Delusions will cloud my senses
I’m gazing through rose colored lenses
As I follow in your footsteps
But never close enough to vex
Either way I’m invisible to you
Never to be heard always out of view
My fixation must be felt from afar
So others don’t think me too bizar
It is known that what I feel
Is not to be confused with affection
As I sit here having to conceal
My indefinite obsession
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 1:18 PM UTC