"shuld" poems
THOSE WERE GREAT FIREWORKS HOORAH
YEAH, PRETTY RADICAL FIREWORKS HOORAH
THE FIREWORKS ARE ****** RAD
AS THEY ARE SHINING BRIGHTLY WITH THE GHOST OF DAD
MY COSMIC ENERGY HAS IMPROVED
SINCE I STARTED WITH THESE EMAILS
I SHULD BE THE THE 75 LIKE TO THIS VIDEO, HOORAH
YEAH, FIREWORKS ARE A GREAT WAY TO PARTY, HOORAH
I AM THE COOL PERSON, WHO SEES DADDY'S GHOST
IN A GIANT PUFF OF SMOKE
I THINK HEAVY METAL SHOULD JOIN THE FIREWORKS
TO ADD FOR A VERY SPECIAL EFFECT
PRETTY MUCH LIKE SKYFIRE IN MARCH IN CANBERRA
FIREWORKS, THEY LIGHT UP THE SKY, OH YEAH
FIREWORKS, PRETTY **** RAD, HOW COOL
I LIKE JUDAS PRIEST, AND ACCA DACCA TOO
BUT AS EACH FIREWORK SHINES, DUDES
IT LIGHTS THE SKY FOR YOU
HAPPY NEW YEAR, DUDES
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 4:56 AM UTC
My poor friend Mike, he’s drunk again. Two beers
and he’s already texting me. “they playd
that songg u luv nd it reminded me
of u”. A few more cups and we’re at, “heyyyyy
u like my abs?” and then an “lol
cuz i really like u.” Then soon, “im home,
but u shuld b here 2.” And then he spills
some more: “i thnk ur cute :)” shows on my phone
We’re friends, I think. He’s drunk. It’s just a fluke.
It gets too late. He begs, “will u plz tuck
me in?” And when his eyes begin to droop,
the last: “forgiv me plzzz but we shud ****
Embarrassment exudes when we next pass.
He looks at me, his face bright red. I laugh.
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 8:15 PM UTC
Me doops and me was woking da street in a bomba reggae style
When to me suprise a goodaz said com and ste a wile
Me doops say nii but me says yes
cause how can i refuse *"no ***** dress"*
Inside her bungaloo i went for da **** but tasted poo
Oh no i say, dat dont taste good, a ****** now i really shuld
Too late she says you got the Klanga!
now i wish i didnt bangha
Me days are long and ful of strife
I lost me kids and me wife
me nips do hurt and so my wanga
Buts thats the life
of a Bomba Klanga
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 4:39 PM UTC
WHY SHULD I LERN TO SPELL?
HELL,
NO ONE REEDS WHAT I SAY
ANYWAY!!! :(
Sing for the cool night,
whispers of constellations.
Sing for the supple grass,
the tall grass, gently whispering.
Sing of infinities, multitudes,
of all that lies beyond us now,
whispers begetting whispers.
And i am glad to also whisper . . .
I WUS HURT IN LUV I’M DYIN’
FER TH’ TEARS I BEEN A-CRYIN’!!!
i abide beyond serenities
and realms of grace,
above love’s misdirected earth,
i lift my face.
i am beyond finding now . . .
I WAS IN, LOVE, AND HE ******* ME!!!
THE **** TOTALLY!!!
i loved her once, before, when i
was mortal too, and sometimes i
would listen and distinctly hear
her laughter from the juniper,
but did not go . . .
I JUST DON’T GET POETRY, SOMETIMES.
IT’S OKAY, I GUESS.
I REALLY DON’T READ THAT MUCH AT ALL,
I MUST CONFESS!!! ;-)
Travail, inherent to all flesh,
i do not know, nor how to feel,
although i sing them nighttimes still:
the bitter woes, that do not heal . . .
POETRY IS BORING!!!
SEE, IT ***** I’M SNORING!!! ZZZZZZZ!!!
The words like breath, i find them here,
among the fragrant juniper,
and conifers amid the snow,
old loves imagined long ago . . .
WHY DON’T YOU LIKE MY PERFICKT WORDS
YOU USELESS UN-AMERIC’N TURDS?!!!
What use is love, to me, or Thou?
O Words, my awe, to fly so smooth
above the anguished hearts of men
to heights unknown, Thy bare remove . . .
Keywords/Tags: Poetry, writing, chit, chat room, forum, website, social media, workshop, mortal, mortality, grass, multitudes, Walt Whitman, love, awe, serenity, serenities, grace, heights, Parnassus, art, spelling, grammar
Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 5:36 AM UTC
I know it's stupid
and I know I shuld stop
but you are my cupid
while I feel like a prop.
It's been said you like me
but you never seem to show it
it felt like it's meant to be
and believe me I would quit
if I knew how, to be free
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 5:41 AM UTC
You see me smile
and you think I'm happy.
But I haven't been in a while
and hopefully you can know it's you.
You think I'm no longer sane
but you shuld know
that my smile holds pain.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 12:44 PM UTC
Tidy kleen
Ma hair gleams
Ma boy seems
Likke just a dream
But I love him
He make me melt
I guess I shuld kuntinue
To give him myself
Dis momma don play,
Dis momma will stay
Even if I mess up wit him
Dis momma is OK
And today
I will be his womans,
Bekause I'm real momma
And baby boy know it.
Even if baby boy don't wan me
This baby girl to him
Wil show it.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 1:54 PM UTC