"shoddily" poems - Hello Poetry

Go ahead and paint a picture of perfect time slips between our fingers like my tongue slipped between my lips to say something stupid politicians are sleeping soundly atop the knife metal to the floor pick up speed pick up bad habits linoleum is easy enough to clean but khakis stain like a ***** but if you want to sell me your deepest darkest dream I’ll haggle with you all night long we give birth to Cobras and give them to the hungry mongoose put me on the blacklist my white flag is stained with blood and grey matter but everybody in their right mind wants to get a chance to walk through wrong altered perceptions I stole your dream catcher and I’m writing novels about your hopes and faults and I track your arteries along the fault lines of imaginary continents is this insanity? it’s easier said than done play chicken with my train of thought spine is steel is cowardice is machismo put me under your microscope tell me what’s wrong I’ll give you a doodle on the back of a napkin and a shoddily put together love poem

0

Feb 23, 2014

Feb 23, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC

harry-j-baxter

Perfectionist

Go ahead and paint a picture of perfect time slips between our fingers like my tongue slipped between my lips to say something stupid politicians are sleeping soundly atop the knife metal to the floor pick up speed pick up bad habits linoleum is easy enough to clean but khakis stain like a ***** but if you want to sell me your deepest darkest dream I’ll haggle with you all night long we give birth to Cobras and give them to the hungry mongoose put me on the blacklist my white flag is stained with blood and grey matter but everybody in their right mind wants to get a chance to walk through wrong altered perceptions I stole your dream catcher and I’m writing novels about your hopes and faults and I track your arteries along the fault lines of imaginary continents is this insanity? it’s easier said than done play chicken with my train of thought spine is steel is cowardice is machismo put me under your microscope tell me what’s wrong I’ll give you a doodle on the back of a napkin and a shoddily put together love poem

29

it's elon musk his stiff, frozen corpse hurtling toward the earth looks like space flight wasn't as grand as an idea as previously thought the virgins have gone galactic branson's body as cold as his icy heart and eyes to match his lifelessness the bald headed freak's gone bug-eyed! clearly unprepared for the speed his amazon basic space shuttle hurtles at as shoddily made as the rest of their **** the cabinet begins decompressing why go to the stars what do you think it is you'll find up there peace or contentment are you trying to prove something you'd think if you'd really want to help humanity you might start on this rock before trying to jump to the next oh you'll succeed while the planet you so desperately sought to escape is in the throws of death's spiral i'm sure it stings your pride to know you'll die before that though

0

Jul 19, 2021

Jul 19, 2021 at 1:43 AM UTC

manx-kronos-pragna

To The Stars!

it's elon musk his stiff, frozen corpse hurtling toward the earth looks like space flight wasn't as grand as an idea as previously thought the virgins have gone galactic branson's body as cold as his icy heart and eyes to match his lifelessness the bald headed freak's gone bug-eyed! clearly unprepared for the speed his amazon basic space shuttle hurtles at as shoddily made as the rest of their **** the cabinet begins decompressing why go to the stars what do you think it is you'll find up there peace or contentment are you trying to prove something you'd think if you'd really want to help humanity you might start on this rock before trying to jump to the next oh you'll succeed while the planet you so desperately sought to escape is in the throws of death's spiral i'm sure it stings your pride to know you'll die before that though

17

Disgusted now that America is busted For voting in sewer rats and gone to bat For making this into an autocracy, Working to gut democracy and replace it, Deface and deforest all of the best Then sell off the rest of the planet From the water to the granite Leaving only inedible gold Shoved into the the wallets Of the national pickpockets And liars while they set fires And burn down the country With their hatred and bigotry Unchecked by the lazy populace Too stupid to know what danger is While it is marching into their homes Making every state a danger zone. The traitors who own the industries Hold a gun to journalist monopolies So that artificial realities are sold As socialized necessities To people who prefer tabloids To history books and crave bromides For this time it is the Christians That fiddle while Rome turns to ruins And ashes surrounded by those who fought While a complacent half of America did not. I am sickened at the laziness, The political father of craziness Has let this horror happen to this, The country of which I was always proud, And sick of how loud the rats are That they have taken destruction so far That we may never recover again And start to elect countrymen Instead of men to own the country Without a scintilla of modesty And treat fine people shoddily Merely because they can. Who needs that kind of man?

0

Dec 2, 2016

Dec 2, 2016 at 6:30 PM UTC

brent-kincaid

SICK AND SADDENED

Disgusted now that America is busted For voting in sewer rats and gone to bat For making this into an autocracy, Working to gut democracy and replace it, Deface and deforest all of the best Then sell off the rest of the planet From the water to the granite Leaving only inedible gold Shoved into the the wallets Of the national pickpockets And liars while they set fires And burn down the country With their hatred and bigotry Unchecked by the lazy populace Too stupid to know what danger is While it is marching into their homes Making every state a danger zone. The traitors who own the industries Hold a gun to journalist monopolies So that artificial realities are sold As socialized necessities To people who prefer tabloids To history books and crave bromides For this time it is the Christians That fiddle while Rome turns to ruins And ashes surrounded by those who fought While a complacent half of America did not. I am sickened at the laziness, The political father of craziness Has let this horror happen to this, The country of which I was always proud, And sick of how loud the rats are That they have taken destruction so far That we may never recover again And start to elect countrymen Instead of men to own the country Without a scintilla of modesty And treat fine people shoddily Merely because they can. Who needs that kind of man?

40

The failings of man confound, as tremors urge seas to crash upon shore. Turbulance follows in your wake. Each wave hurled towards land disrupts the peaceful sands of days passed. Coastlines are forever altered, our innocence lost. As tide and life ebb away, a hope for reprieve surfaces. All that is found are the barren shells that once housed promise of shelter and stability. No more. These hollowed skeletons serve as unspeaking, unmoving reminders until the surf returns. The sands and I feel settled before the undertow rips away our shoddily compacted reserves. There is no escaping this cycle. Our only choices are to forever struggle against turmoil, or submit to uncertain seas.

0

Jan 27, 2013

Jan 27, 2013 at 3:14 AM UTC

b-ellison

In ocean

The failings of man confound, as tremors urge seas to crash upon shore. Turbulance follows in your wake. Each wave hurled towards land disrupts the peaceful sands of days passed. Coastlines are forever altered, our innocence lost. As tide and life ebb away, a hope for reprieve surfaces. All that is found are the barren shells that once housed promise of shelter and stability. No more. These hollowed skeletons serve as unspeaking, unmoving reminders until the surf returns. The sands and I feel settled before the undertow rips away our shoddily compacted reserves. There is no escaping this cycle. Our only choices are to forever struggle against turmoil, or submit to uncertain seas.

1

In a happening town, portrayed in a much awaited book of fiction an imagined woman elopes with someone; a shadowy figure , the inept novelist shoddily handled. this character at one unexpected turn disappears without a trace. the female character aspirant protagonist from chapter one was reduced to a mere caricature without any future in fiction.

0

Nov 1, 2011

Nov 1, 2011 at 5:35 AM UTC

k-balachandran

FLOP STORY

In a happening town, portrayed in a much awaited book of fiction an imagined woman elopes with someone; a shadowy figure , the inept novelist shoddily handled. this character at one unexpected turn disappears without a trace. the female character aspirant protagonist from chapter one was reduced to a mere caricature without any future in fiction.

14

I typed at the speed of my sprinting mind Trying to explain what lives in my head But after a while, come morning time I have slight hope that he is dead. But every evening Brings to me more suffering As I realize nothing can **** The demon that calls itself part of me. When my mind is groggy He wakes and speaks for me Treating all my friends shoddily And ruining what love remains for me The man that speaks from inside Is like a cancer growing within As constantly he will deride My attempts to change away from sin I have no name for this monster And I cannot claim that he is an excuse But I know I'm not this awful other And a decent explanation is impossible to produce. An explanation Remember when? An explanation Drove me to no end? Insanity caused by the simplest of statements. That's not me. And yet this monster can escape any containments And he is always angry. It's my turn to give an explanation A truth that brings small satisfaction But you of all deserve to know This monster coming when it rains on my brow I cannot call him my delusion For surely he is no illusion I cannot call him my depression For surely that was fixed with confession. WHO ARE YOU? why do you live within me so? Tearing into me, making me blue I just wanted to watch the **** show. Are you done now? Can you please Leave ME ALONE NOW let me have peace Breaking my heart and the hearts of my friends I send you away as fast as I can I'm leaving now I"m taking a stand And so I exit Stage up to heaven And you can leave Stage straight down to hell.

0

Oct 24, 2017

Oct 24, 2017 at 10:59 PM UTC

nathan-porter

That Nasty Voice

I typed at the speed of my sprinting mind Trying to explain what lives in my head But after a while, come morning time I have slight hope that he is dead. But every evening Brings to me more suffering As I realize nothing can **** The demon that calls itself part of me. When my mind is groggy He wakes and speaks for me Treating all my friends shoddily And ruining what love remains for me The man that speaks from inside Is like a cancer growing within As constantly he will deride My attempts to change away from sin I have no name for this monster And I cannot claim that he is an excuse But I know I'm not this awful other And a decent explanation is impossible to produce. An explanation Remember when? An explanation Drove me to no end? Insanity caused by the simplest of statements. That's not me. And yet this monster can escape any containments And he is always angry. It's my turn to give an explanation A truth that brings small satisfaction But you of all deserve to know This monster coming when it rains on my brow I cannot call him my delusion For surely he is no illusion I cannot call him my depression For surely that was fixed with confession. WHO ARE YOU? why do you live within me so? Tearing into me, making me blue I just wanted to watch the **** show. Are you done now? Can you please Leave ME ALONE NOW let me have peace Breaking my heart and the hearts of my friends I send you away as fast as I can I'm leaving now I"m taking a stand And so I exit Stage up to heaven And you can leave Stage straight down to hell.

52

The rain is almost silent with its stealthy pattering I can still decipher our little song though The rhythm of the drops is a mirror of my heartbeat This road is empty in the dark leaving me to tear myself apart Deconstructing what makes me whole and putting the pieces back once more Ripped pieces of flesh shoddily sown together Street lights shine dimly in the downpour Even they are victim to the dark If only the water could clean me anew The distance from this mess would be welcomed but here I am left to deal with the fallout of consequences Time and time again I make the same mistakes and the frustration makes me want to roar until the world shakes I feel like an idiot to place my faith in those unworthy and the tears of the sky serve as a constant reminder The rain continues its quiet assault and I just have to look up at the night sky with a grin on my face while a certain finger sticks up

0

Aug 12, 2016

Aug 12, 2016 at 9:19 PM UTC

Horus

Drenched Reflections

The rain is almost silent with its stealthy pattering I can still decipher our little song though The rhythm of the drops is a mirror of my heartbeat This road is empty in the dark leaving me to tear myself apart Deconstructing what makes me whole and putting the pieces back once more Ripped pieces of flesh shoddily sown together Street lights shine dimly in the downpour Even they are victim to the dark If only the water could clean me anew The distance from this mess would be welcomed but here I am left to deal with the fallout of consequences Time and time again I make the same mistakes and the frustration makes me want to roar until the world shakes I feel like an idiot to place my faith in those unworthy and the tears of the sky serve as a constant reminder The rain continues its quiet assault and I just have to look up at the night sky with a grin on my face while a certain finger sticks up

18

i've bin wilting in the wings of half life some kind of tinsel of decay making chattering bids for attendance but lack and fail pimpling and then deflating tiny chasms visit me chittering little wheezy ******* of creativity spazzing and then weary organisms spatter on the micro lens gutted they were shoddily made they're to be examined (after all that genetics..... what did go wrong ?) a probing at discussion and decisions tend now to a humiliating life then a step up ; a weak and easy one followed by ambition ! one to lift and give life reactors in the gut with macerated heavings gunged our way incisors and incisions rudder me and together with my nouveau umbrella family betrayed from our hammocks, hummocks and nooks we queue on up for 'the things' in accord with good society self reprimanded in defeat ?

0

Mar 24, 2025

Mar 24, 2025 at 10:04 AM UTC

neth-jones

c h i t . . . . . . . . . .

i've bin wilting in the wings of half life some kind of tinsel of decay making chattering bids for attendance but lack and fail pimpling and then deflating tiny chasms visit me chittering little wheezy ******* of creativity spazzing and then weary organisms spatter on the micro lens gutted they were shoddily made they're to be examined (after all that genetics..... what did go wrong ?) a probing at discussion and decisions tend now to a humiliating life then a step up ; a weak and easy one followed by ambition ! one to lift and give life reactors in the gut with macerated heavings gunged our way incisors and incisions rudder me and together with my nouveau umbrella family betrayed from our hammocks, hummocks and nooks we queue on up for 'the things' in accord with good society self reprimanded in defeat ?

20

He belongs to it As a citizen of the nation: Another voice among the crowd, A plebian shotuing outside the assembly. Raise up your hands, my compatriots, And let them hear your opinions! Is the conduct quiet? Loud? Have you dampened all other noise out? Do you have an ear to listen? It's a re-run made parody Having been so shoddily done From being so poorly conceived By a lack of understanding.

0

Feb 13, 2025

Feb 13, 2025 at 2:10 AM UTC

manx-kronos-pragna

No Bird In Migration

He belongs to it As a citizen of the nation: Another voice among the crowd, A plebian shotuing outside the assembly. Raise up your hands, my compatriots, And let them hear your opinions! Is the conduct quiet? Loud? Have you dampened all other noise out? Do you have an ear to listen? It's a re-run made parody Having been so shoddily done From being so poorly conceived By a lack of understanding.

13