"shing" poems
Slang Or common talk
Yay all knows that peoples talk funny
If yous are from the south.
They cut off the lights and jaw jack alls night long.
If youns need to find something.
We cans find it down the road a piece or maybe over yawner.
So if you think I talk funny or in slang.
You alls need to catch the seconds of taters and grits and pig fat.
You alls come back now you hear.
And yes bring granny and the boys well have a shing dig.
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 2:24 PM UTC
I would feed you crepes
while the city sleeps,
every night,
until I die
or until my whisking arm
gives out.
When I gasp with adrenaline
as you corner the road,
does it drive you crazy,
as you drive me
mad
to buy doughnut holes
at 3 A.M. ?
We share an addiction to lazy behavior,
but differ in our love
for coke,
for coffee.
For what?
When we broke years worth of tension
I thought it would be
more like
snapping a dried, autumn twig,
the crack of a whip
or dropping
a florescent tube light-bulb.
Instead it was that of morphine;
warm and gradual,
if at all.
I'm sorry I made such delusions,
held you high as perfection:
an irretrievable beast.
I thought myself shallow
in thinking
I was finally better than you
at something.
Now I think myself shallow
in thinking
I could do without you
because of your behavior
or lack there of.
I was wrong.
I thought I found
the disappointment
enough to
quench my lust.
But I'm yearning
just as ever,
even knowing what I'm missing.
So I'll sit here,
knowing we crave
the same basics
and differ
in specifics.
I'll sit here writing
as I watch you sleep.
I'll wait
as our ****** tension
slowly grows back,
like a forgotten
perennial ,
once again
making itself evident
and waiting for the
shing
of the garden shears
to snip its stalk
like a taught thread.
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 1:29 AM UTC
Deep ridge,
deplete elitists.
Gold flows, layers,
Dbridge,
enriched tone, gates golden,
heavenly.
San Francisco, incomplete,
switch robes.
Can't be beat, Klitchschos,
barking up the wrong tree,
rich tones.
Switch flows, risk it,
rich tea, gifted.
Unwritten, no gimmicks,
smooth months,
pale ale Guiness.
Wrap presents,
gift wrapped,
signed sealed delivered.
Dispatched,
Spit fires, spit facts,
die for the art.
Mismatched.
Calamity believe, nose dive.
Kamikaze.
No harder, fuel,
nose powder.
White knight in shing armour.
1688,
Spanish Armada.
Cut sharp like barber,
bananas,
permanent like markers,
malleable like lava,
pop like cava.
Polova.
Inscribe minds,
magna carter.
Magnificent bars,
gold tales told.
Slaves sold, reigns over.
Cold shoulder,
rainbow coloured mistakes,
shoulders shudder,
steer clear brother,
execute rudder.
Destitute,
Scuppered.
Destination under breath muttered.
Spread like wildfire,
butters, blindman, blackout,
blinds again, shutters.
Dunces, run ****
Jump **** loose lips,
loosing grip.
Tip of the iceberg.
Tip of the tongue,
no nice words.
Stigmata.
Godfather,
go harder for our forefathers.
The time is ours.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 4:35 AM UTC
Walked near her slowly,
Brushed with hand, breathing slowly,
She came closer, shaking,
Warm, quite, soft...
Her eyes were shing like a moon,
They were telling way too much,
I've start to play with her with hand,
Slowly put her legs apart...
Hand was filled with warmth of her soft breast,
Movement up and down she been waiting for...
Then thrill pierced inside of me,
And white liquid dripped..
At that moment i felt enravishment,
That's how i milked a cow for a first time...
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 1:28 AM UTC
*currently poland has a catholic conservative organising party of power, which means you'll get great pop hits like: africa by t.o.t.o. in clamour karaoke format... kara oke... new form of hara kiri... get that ******* mike into the wheat fields and bury it! so inventing new japanese phrasing... KARA OKE means plagiarising a song so so hard, that arteries start bulging out of your neck... which makes sense to never spot it on opera singers... because they're bubbly bubbles phat... pass me the hairbrush... i'm about to shing in the singing cubicle of running water.*
there's a reason why
rock stars et al.
are famous...
they're basically crowd
control, crowd control
stewards, pacifiers
of the mob who have
a guillotine hidden
under one girl's skirt...
and aristocrats don't like
that... no precious...
so now in encore all together:
CLAP IF YOU'RE HAPPY
CLAP HAPPY CLAP IF YOU'RE HAPPY;
****** my pants i did,
thinking it out... feels good
to not feel jealous about
such professions designated a stage
and a thank you speech,
but oddly enough such crowd
control professions attract the biggest
dross of jealousy...
while the one hundred and ten year old
sikh guy keeps jogging, at his age so fast,
that his turban falls off...
no one's jealous of him;
he's got twenty great-grandchildren
and i'd rather be jealous of that...
the definite concentration of mortality
extending into a comparative blink of a god.
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 10:28 AM UTC
As you are reading this
I am standing right behind you
SHING
ha! Fool, you're too slow.
I've teleported exactly 5402.4 miles away from your location already.
This is the power of my metacognition.
Jesus may have walked on water, but my metacognition powers have changed the course of history
Afterall, who won world war 1, 2, gave birth to Albert Einstein and Elon Musk and founded America?
It was only because of the genius of my metacognition
And now, after collecting the 8 chaos emeralds
I have emerged from a chrysalis
And evolved into the perfect being
FEAR ME,FOR MY METACOGNITION LEVELS HAVE ASCENDED TO 5 MILLION TIMES THEIR NORMAL STATE
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 1:22 PM UTC
Like humpty dumpty I sat on my wall
I'm not the same after that first fall
They patched me together and placed my back
Only to repeat it crack after crack
They kept putting me back on that ledge
All the king's men made me a pledge
They wouldn't let me fall they would catch me instead
But I think they really wanted me dead
Till my kinght in shing armour so noble and honest
Made me the greatest of all promise
He'd be there to protect me even from myself
He would never let me fall from that very high shelf
He would protect me from all that would harm
Now if I fall it will be into his arms
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 9:50 AM UTC
In the end
it's not going to matter
how many breaths you took,
But how many moments took your breath away!
Shing Xiong
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
listless golden child
release sweet vibrations from thy
frail lungs to crisp the air with their slender elegance
i know th e loose; puRple, scream
splattered rent
a vessel bent to sleepy hammers C;rA,sHing
but in so it was
worn weary thin hipped goddess. A
Jun 4, 2010
Jun 4, 2010 at 7:50 PM UTC
broken windshield glass and a beautiful boy
how many more tears can be shed?
crying during a volleyball game is just the beginning
i like to think you were standing still in a
white room
with Him
being touched by all the angels
being held by God himself
you are holy
and righteous
and true
these are the times the try men's souls
we walk around in agony
you're watching from above
this is all for you can't you see?
we're mourning for ourselves
because truth be told you're laughing
and watching football with great grandad
i wonder if your arms were open
to death i mean
did you feel it coming fast?
did your last seven seconds play a slideshow
of everyone you loved?
i wonder what your last words were
something as little as "cool"
it's haunting me and all i see is your
shing face above
and with open arms
i moved on
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 1:00 PM UTC
He sat lounged back in the chair
The sun shing into his face
Almost as if he had been hit by mace
Yet he didn’t care
There was a point in life where he did
But time took care of that
So, he just sits there with his hat
With nothing left to bid
Even the smallest piece of paradise he still stresses
He works too much to know how to live
And he lives too little to give
It’s his normal for life to be a mess
One day his body will die
For his spirit has been long gone
He himself has become a pawn
A crippled bird who can no longer fly
May 12, 2024
May 12, 2024 at 3:54 PM UTC
In the end, it won't matter
how many breaths you took,
but how many moments
took your breath away.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 7:20 AM UTC
Good moarning this is a new day want you say hey
The sun shing though your windows of pride
I never been with a good guy
The sunshine is beaming though the windows and glass and why you bearth smell like ***
I saw your eyes in the sun but why did you say you were holding gun
The sunlight is with a with you though your body but dont forget dont touch nobody
You can be cold and hot stay on that spot you will remain can you maintian
Everybody saying something with the words of you i will be known and come ture.
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 7:47 AM UTC
A good day turns bitter
As I look to you for guidance
Only to see a dark and dingy version
Of my once knight in shing armor
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC