Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ConnectHook Sep 2015
☪   ☭   ☮

Oh beautiful for specious lies
where Christless values reign;
for superficial battle cries
above the muted strain:
Diversity, diversity
God hides His face from thee –
and frown he should, while planethood
distracts humanity.

How sad it is when victim groups
monopolize the floor;
enabling the marginals
to agitate for more.
Diversity, diversity,
Your queer agenda rules –
with Balkanizing tendencies
imposed on witless tools.

Degenerate in decadence
the ailing eagle flies;
in spirals of irrelevance
through clouded toxic skies…
Diversity, diversity
the Left defines your terms –
the weakened body politic
grows sicker as it squirms.

Oh Lord we need a miracle
before the patient fails;
celestial intervention please
to purge us of what ails.
Diversity, diversity
We shall not overcome –
Unless the Lord reveal His word
twixt here and Kingdom Come…
♫♪ Sung to the tune of...PROGRESS !! ♪

I don't believe you even read this.

              ☪☭ ☮
RAO Aug 2018
2 Liters Width this Bottle Neck had her Thirsty when i Pop Off.
"Hes Got a Unique Meter!"

Thinkin outside my Thoughts Manipulate Face hands off my Clock Box a Movie Theater
Soft Drinkin my Equilibriums "DAnkh"...
Hook up The Bracelet of Anubis Call it my I Watch
Achilles Heels turning red and blue takin on a Dog WALK
no roads better to cross Sapphire bird " Call that a Cold ****¡!"
from a "Pacman" in Paris Pans Panning Labyrinths A Mazed running on music like Tha Rock whippin better then jimmy Neutrons Stovetopper
... Style makes Our Classic Modern Eighties cheatah?
UhDDuz(UDDERS+ADIDAS) "GODDARD" "SkyWalker" Call that Harry Potter at the Roboxer smoking bud from jimmy Wonkers GobStoppers.
give that a D +
Oh Gosh *** in CVS / HoMâge/ Po-ca-hon-tas chair gifted like Op-rahs-Hola-no bras vuela-ar tuoi o-Yâ aur-revior no-mas Veteran Indi-En Sit-in on ma stick shift of Mua Cö-Brâ..... engine Knocking sicker then Jehovah with pneumonia
Can we get every Ticket so i can load the Super Bowl Comon!
Makin her Jaw Drop ready to turn Dragon Rude into an tan Dra
Dolph-in ima RAOBAWT fly fishin Santa Cla₩§ Idle Hands Examined n Exposé Gods
lips im here to naturally Lift I'd Volunteer for Slavery if the Hills were rich like Jessica Albas Exposed ***

yo problems in the street
I get hi on Florida Keys You a Hero Touch Down!
Stranger Danger in my End Zone
Knit Personality Jun 2017
An alcomoholic named Moses
Drank one day the largest of doses:
   He drank so much liquor
   He never was sicker
Until he developed cirrhosis.

Cné Jun 2017
Trying to find a place to ***
I went behind a big o'l tree
She saw me there
Completely bare
Then we became a WEE!!

Oh the deepest trouble, *****
Playing with girls, that sin
just ware these words
don't think her absurd
when she wondering says, "is it in?"

So glad for you, on getting some
while relieving yourself, on the run
Girls that sin
bored, did she ask, "Did you ***?
Or are you done?"

Sorry boys, just having fun!

Hey, welcome aboard
if you're feelin' bored
just give it a rub
but not a snub
that's how we scored

Y'all are so bad, yes it's true
just tell me when your through
pushing, pulling
tweaking, fulfilling
your hands now full, of goo

How could I be bored, with the likes of you two
in need of rubbing, please don't be blue
Make no mistake
I have what it takes
especially, for men well overdue

Talented and beautiful too
always pulling it through
it must be fate
it's always so great
getting a tugging, from you

Walking the streets before dawn
you looked and her light was on
you saw her fare
but didn't care
and wonder where your money's all gone

Poor Bill, he never did learn
he saved all the money he could earn
to pay a sweet lady
at place that was shady
and wonders why his pecker still burns

Bill never learned his lesson
the burn just grew, not lessened
he never went back
his pecker he lacks
no more ****** sessions

The ladies of the evening
sights beyond believing
the things they do
while making you
penniless, and leaving

A working girl, works it
with Johns, turning tricks
and f¥€king
can't blame her, for getting you sick

The doctor told her to take a break
her body one day, might break
all that cavorting
and oral contorting
she just really loved, her tube steaks

He told her to take a seat
when she really wanted a treat
she was feelin' dry
and wasn't shy
And so she went after his meat

Cruising the streets just chillin'
searchin' for a chick just millin'
She shook her ***
I couldn't pass
Oh, well, another shot of penicillin

Something's wrong with Suzy
something oozing, from her coozie
she scratches at an itch
her john's just call her a *****
that's the sum of it, laying down, with floozies

Suzy was rode hard, put up wet
with men on the street corner she met
Wiggling her ***
for just a little cash
***** status. she earned, you bet

Disclaimer: It just gets sicker from here...

Went to the bathroom to sit on the ***
I like to **** while I'm on the clock
There wasn't any paper
I used a finger scraper
I might better had used my sock

Now if there's one thing I know
being a clock, that's fast, and not slow
fingers be scraping
flecks are escaping
****, will under the fingernails, go

Cné to James
Please wash your hands before you eat
Be careful cruisin' down the street
or chillin'
with penicillin
I fear a terrible peril soon, you will meet!
Skaidrum Sep 2015
"    Legend has it,
      he could talk the sun
          into setting.    "

    He's a tragedy the zodiacs still gossip about,
               metal wounds glower by the fire,
    flames sneering at druid flesh,
                  crystal bones are decaying,
    wrapping willow branches along my neck~

             Love isn't a prophecy.

Telling time to ghosts who cannot read,
      these shadows ache in the pupils of sunlight~
Lupus showers us in dire blessing;
         so start lighting the torches of war from Osiris,
he's illiterate in your dead language of poetry,

      I can't help but notice you don't pick fights with death anymore.

There's no sunlight on this side of history,
       spider webs become cave paintings to gods~
look north for the tails of dragons and hurricanes,
   cast your doubts to frigid chambers and feverish graves;
A prayer for the day we have no names to mourn,

           His loyalty falters as autumn grows sicker.

You've melted golden eyes upon heavens in ink,
        and he's crippling under silver lightning again;
masquerading demonic skin plastered in snow,
        is a game you like to play to injure gods,
an incredible contradiction between love and lies...

     Pick your poison wisely, wolf girl.

So there's been a few contracts with the dead,
          I swapped my soul with Lupus,
bargained my sins with Sirius,
          traded these miracles with Artemis,
as eight sapphire flames bleed this heart dry from it's curse;

     Don't **** your hopes for the greater good.

Illusions are born when nightmares grow lonesome,
         if the book of the moon spells traitor and betrayal,
then these sinister rouges cannot quell what's been written.
        Our love song was a dark sonata drenched in lead;
discard the sounds that tremble in pianissimo~

    An omen of war divided Yin from Yang.

I'm forcing fangs to ripen by first light,
       while tricking secrets into fusing with fairy tales.
Auburn daggers whine to slither deeper,
      into the spines of star crossed lovers;
beating on drums of moonlight to call me to this world;

    Grief and mosaics relapse in my palms tonight.

"     The birth of a lapis sword
               plunged in the stone
                           of her wolven
                                         heart.      "

"Sometimes love makes puppets of darkness out of all of us.*"
The crow ain't worth much.

<><><>    © Copywrite Skaidrum     <><><>
M May 2018
Update feeling a Bit sicker I'm allerigc to something. I think they will not listen to me but nothing is strange. They told me Stop posting so I can not do that anymore I will make videos When I feel better. Follow my on instgram M.Soccer43 Peace Out stay happy
Deb Jones Jul 2018
We will all have hurts in our lives.
Heart pain will bend your knees
Loved ones will die.
Loved ones will disappoint us.
Hate us at times.
Abuse us verbally, mentally and sometimes physically.
The older we get the more disappointments we will face.
We get sicker and poorer.
We get lonely and depressed.
But hold on tight.
There is a light at the end of most tunnels of darkness.
And even if there is not a tunnel to be had.
Then pull yourself up by your boot straps.
Try to live with grace.
With dignity
Through whatever disappointments and doubts
Bow your back.
It's hard to be stoic all the time.
And that's ok.
Walk your path with assurance.
You got this.
Nadia Apr 29
They put babies in cages,
Sell them to the highest bidders,
Build fences on stolen land.
Is it still a legal agreement if it's in a
Language they couldn't understand?

No permanent harm, they say
Of our earth, crowned in plastic,
Shackled and smothered as well.
When ***** money pays the bills
Can we believe the lies they sell?

The rich get richer,
The planet gets sicker
And the poor struggle to survive.
All these distractions and unfair transactions,
it's a wonder anyone's alive.

If a planet is dying and noone is watching
Does it even make a sound?
If leaders are lying and non complying,
Do treasonous acts abound?
If enough people collaborate and participate
Can we still turn things around?

NCL April 2019
Door slams, feet pounding on stairs.
My household remains asleep, Only me and my cares.

They come in all colors,
different flavors,
unique fears,

No status quo,
different walks,
All sorts of careers

The business owners,
The urban campers,

The highschool dropouts,
Grownups still in Pampers.

Theres even the alumni,
with their bumper sticker,
All taking a medicine,
that only makes them sicker.

All the while, the thoughts harbored within-
Makes me think, this wall we share, may as well be paper thin.

I smell the smell,
Made a call with a cell,

No help from the ones dressed in blue
Just me and myself, seeing it through.

The war is mine,
The battles they own,
Let it end, before this wall we share,
Becomes their gravestone
This is my rough draft.
I may repost the finished version
Either way, Its one of my current "big" troubles in life. So, writing it out, getting it out there, feels most important
Sam Hammond Sep 2018
Well, that's it, my brain is now rotten.
Lost in its fungus are feelings, forgotten.
A spur may occur, on a scarce blue moon,
Of energy telling me I'm back in tune,
But really it's vacant and harsh little lies.
Synapses shooting a brain as it dies.
Misery fruiting on mould colonised
From grey matter, shattered behind fading eyes.
Now just a hollow man, left with no bang,
Merely a whimper with such little whim.
Watching as slowly the old me is lost
While filling the blanks with a bad pseudonym
And sealing them over with mushrooms and liquor,
Though quicker and quicker the struggle gets bigger.
Sick and then sicker, from fluid to rigour.
Stuck in the mould, now forever disfigured.
Madison Sep 2018
I grow sicker

Day by day

As I realize:

Where I once saw a monster

I now see a man.    


I'm just like you.")

It grows more apparent

Each day I'm by your side

Close enough to see into the soul

I didn't think you had.

("I'm not so bad

After all.")

Don't get me wrong

There's not much there.

While my insides wither

I can see that yours

Are already cold and dead.


("Come on, my dear.

Make me feel alive.")

Even when you hurt me

I find myself searching

Seeing right through you.

You break me down

While you're in shambles

Reducing both of us to ruins.


Don't you dare cry!")

But it's all too clear

In those rare moments

Of misplaced tenderness

That, maybe once

You might have known how to love.

("Hey, angel

Where's your halo?")


In the dead of night

When you're still and serene

I try holding you

Lightly tracing all the lines of your face

Wondering who made you this way.



I even wonder

If, because of the way things are going now

I might turn out like you one day.

("Don't look so scared.

You know you're okay.")

So I listen to you breathe

And I watch you dream

And sometimes I swear I hear a sob

And my insides cave in when I realize it's not mine.

("Oh, angel...")

I just wish someone loved you

Before you met me

So that maybe --

Just maybe --

We could both be alright

Maybe even meet

Under much better circumstances.



And, even when you destroy me

I wish that


I could love you.


Don't cry.")

It makes me sicker

Day by day

That I fall back into the arms

Time and time again

Of a monster

Who was once

A man.

("You know you're safe with me

Song title and partial inspiration from the Nirvana song, "Polly."

I wanted to take a look at Stockholm Syndrome within a poem. I really hope I did a good job of portraying it accurately.
WW1 WW2 Dubyadubya3

(turbosouthernfried president w/ coke)

Wheyfaced WW4torn Widows

(spittoon image son of a talkfool from a longline)

Wheyfaced WW5torn Widows Warturned ******

(of talkfools in thrall to doctor occident)

Pastweeping WW6 Widowswarturnedwhores Wankoff WW7lords

(& other arsekissingers bearing airwolfpackages)

Woldwaltzing Wommel's Wazzocky Wristwatch Won WW8

(americuntbearing dr.doom in blue jeans )

WW9 Or Was It UUUU10 The Greatest Trick The Dubya Ever Pulled

(o -cide! quanticide! qualiticide! shiacide! sunnicide! up-)

WW11 Wind In The Willows Vs. Where The Wild Things Are

(-cidedoom! heil ideolodger cop tours amereich a-)

Wu-Tang Wenceslas Did Look Out To Wot Who's At WW12 W/ Who

(pache putative peacekeepers like abyssscythe parents)

WW13 Was Just A War To Wardoff War W/ War War

(chickenshits in boeing beefy tattoo nutshell the kernel cinders outta kids)

Wappenschawhinging Wareeyores Didn't Wanna Die In WW14

(white orange agent phosphorus wadewilsoning youth thin asia)

Warmongs Watching 'Alien Vs. Primula' Awailable On Bluway Wideo & WMD

(marlborocountry obsidional smokers of nationalised foreign forests)

Winking Warcorresponsors Dent Cred, So Just Di'nt Wink ;-) ;-)

(& nationalised fruits of the forest, totemic nutritious trivia)

WW Deja Vu Tho' Not The Former U.S.O.S.N.O.V.C.R., It's US=A Ruskhour,

(of red silverbacks primalcommunists marxist gorillas)

Wider Conflagration © Money For Old Europe

(daisycutters are daisyraiseczars, whumping warmjungle socialism)

Wigga Wandwigger Wimey Wyke Wozzy Wabbo

(yezhovschina will seem but a user's shiner next to us-china)

Woon Waki Wytie Wago Wankee Winky Wap = WW²

(international tittletattle + ballistic backwatchers = WW Certificate K-PG)

Winstolf Churchhimmler Was Never Wamblecroft At Wetwork

(vietnumb flaggingpasschendaele crimeansnore agincorpse)

Japoleon Bombaport Was Never Wamblecroft At Waterbloodsports

(even peacetime's but a meta nam for emasculated rambofan)

Every Payback Waterfall Is An Elevator In The Overlook

(boer war doesn't even touch the -cides of mars)

WW15 Will Be a Pathetic War Like A Letting War

(baulklands falkans batarangofbaghdad wolf of farrow says)

WW16 Was Warpartypiece For Wemon Wonga & Whippingboyz

(her heard everyherdy's fist theory of history is **** homini lupus)

'Mandible-Mandible Is Better Than Edibleman-Edibleman' - Winnie Va Pour

(gestarpospangled gag, sicker heights pulitzers should police)

But Peace Might As Well Be A Passe Fist Whilst Atomihawkcurse

(or kowtow bone sow to god & his flags of infinite paedophagy)

Of Full Spectrum Dominance Hawk Their Heck, Raptor Values

(allah 'avin allaugh w/ muhammadman atta atta)

That Also Corrupt Chimurenga Avengers & Krishnikovs Of Kashmir

(great pair of babels going south to macadam nation)

Like Incidental Minks Of Warpelf Warped Elves

(both the infidel eagle & osama bingowing earners hereafterburners)

Of Badman Admin In Die Goldzahngrube Kanada

(amerikaput christicidal as avuncular ayatollah w/ nuke quran)

Because There Is Only 1 Character Der Wille Zur Macht

(because there is only 1 act der wille zur macht)

No Peacenik Liberators Manumit Umits Of Nen, Deliver Us Unto Valnillahalla

(tho' bestlaid treatises are but cross storks ferrying thugly ducklings)

Before World Bleeders, Shepnel Shrapherds Lead Us Into
Poppyfields Of Tommy K

(that boom into aggreswans like the kaolin coruscation)

Wotsitler GOP-zilla Tyranno Sapiens Vs. Iranosaurus Nex'

(ian botham wielding mjolnir might rhinestone, lilywhite hiroshima bobbles)

Making Tommies & Jerries Out Of Cowboys & Islums

(& the only 1s beyond the apollyon will be already bellyup cosmonauts)

Congeries Of Tom & Jerry & Tom & Jerry & Tom & Jerry

& WW Tom & Jerry & WW Tom & Jerry & WW Tom & Jerry: bellicosmos

(peace is the uneventful unfull overness post-killallwillkillall)
Deb Jones Sep 2017
For personal reasons I don't have a deep faith, like most of you have, to wrap around myself like a mantle during a tragedy like this.

And I truly believe that Ashley's death is a tragedy.

I have wrote and rewrote this. Trying to find the right words to tell you how wonderful Ashley is. "Is" because she will live forever in our hearts. There is no "was"

And I finally realized I couldn't. It would take a lifetime. Or 22 years.

This started out to be my commemoration of Ash. Instead it has turned into something I probably won't share entirely.

Because I have lived a long life already, I know how the passing years eventually make grief bearable. How it knocks you to your knees and bends your back. But over time it becomes part of you and you learn to live in a new reality.

No one forgets a loved ones death. You just learn to live with the pain. We absorb it and carry the pain around with us forever.

My new reality is a life without Ashley in it. Where she never gets to grow older. But she also doesn't have to grow sicker. That gives me little solace. As I am selfishly wanting her back.

Type 1 Diabetes killed Ashley. It's an illness that is a battle every day. You fight to get through the day. To do the best you can and then get up the next day and fight the same battle all over again. You don't get a day off. Or a vacation from it. Because if you stop fighting for even one day you will have to fight 100 times harder to get back on track.

Ashley wanted to live a normal life. She wanted to do everything that her friends were doing. And her sister, made that possible. She watched over her, especially the last 2 years. They were together almost every day and night. I am proud of her. She grew into the adult she is by loving and treating Ash like a normal young woman. Adventuring with her.

Ashley lived with me from the time she was a toddler until she was 21. She was a daughter to my heart.

She was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes the very same day I was. She was 18. We learned how to live with it together.

She was doing so well. Only hospitalized a few times. While I was hospitalized monthly.

Her last hospitalization, I picked her up after her discharge. She was still vomiting a lot.

I called and made her an appointment with my Endocrinologist for the next morning.

I want to go back to that minute. The one right before I reached out to touch her shoulder to wake her for the appointment the next morning. The minute before I realized something was wrong.

She wouldn't wake up. I pulled her over, her eyes were open in a blank stare.

By doing chest compressions on her, arguably the scariest experience any loved one can go through, I saved Ashley.

A helicopter landed in one of my fields and flew her to the nearest Trauma Center.

So we could have almost 6 days to say goodbye to her. We are all forever grateful for that.

She was declared brain dead the first day she was in the hospital. But I already knew that.

I am so angry at Ashley's senseless death. Losing a beautiful young girl. One who tried to wrap everyone in a kindness that was her unique specialty.

But, I know Ashley was tired. So very tired. She went 16 days without eating. Only drinking water or juice she vomited back up.

I KNOW how she was just so tired. I know that kind of tiredness. Not only of your body, but of your spirit and soul. When you want to isolate yourself from everyone because it's too much to face. To deal with. There is no bravery or sacrifice. Just the silent chant of pleas. Pleas to make it stop. Pleas for solace. For surcease.

The hospital failed her. Looking at laboratory values versus a patient's physical self.

And I wasn't there to advocate for her. The family that was there with her were scared. And helpless to fix her. How do you hold a hospital accountable, with its anonymous staff, without holding me accountable too?

There are things I should have taught Ashley. How to ask for things she needed. How to demand. How to scream.

But I didn't. I talked with her about things she needed. But I didn't see the ramifications of her not using all avenues to get help. I didn't teach her how to scream.

Even though my screams are just as silent.

I knew she was severely brain damaged the morning I first saw her. But really...I was in denial too.

It helped to be the one all the information was funneled through. But the cost to me was denial. I could explain everything to everyone. Over and over again. To family groups. To individuals as they arrived at the hospital and I walked them down that long corridor to the intensive care.

Using that walk to prepare them. To stand beside so many that came to say goodbye to her. But still suppress my grief into a hot ball that I choked on every day she was on life support.

I could only really grieve the way I needed to once I was alone. My sobs were private. Thinking of Ashley when I went to sleep. And of her when I woke.

Every thing Ashley did during that 6 days she was on life support was talked about. And used to foster hope. The rare blinking of her eyelids. The few tears that coursed down her temples.

I knew they had pressure cuffs on her legs. To help keep her blood pressure up. Until I saw the damage to her legs...I still thought there was a chance. The chance I refused to say outloud. As if I challenged what I knew to be true with false hope.

I knew she had significant brain damage but I still thought there might be a chance she would recover, be a different Ashley than we were used to, an Ashley that would need rehabilitation. An outcome that would allow us to keep her here.

Then I saw her legs. I was alone and noticed the pressure cuffs were off. I lifted the blanket and saw her legs. They were blue and mottled with large sections of skin gone. I knew then that she really was not going to recover.

The surgeon even discussed taking one or both of her legs at the hip in order to save her from the infection. But he said she was too fragile and wouldn't make it through surgery. And even if they did the surgery it would not save her brain injury.

My family and I privately discussed ***** donation for Ash. We knew Ashley would have wanted that too. I called a friend of mine that works with the donor network and she said of course Ashley could be evaluated for any donation. I kept in contact with her while Ashley was in the hospital and asked when we could talk to the ***** donor advocate/liaison. That became a moot point when Ashley started spiking temperatures with the infections ravaging her body.

When she was finally completely off sedation she was unresponsive. That poor baby. That poor, poor baby.

Her brain damage was severe. And her legs were poisoning the rest of her body. She really just stayed for us. To give us a chance to say what we needed to say and what she needed to hear in her final moments. And we held her and told her we were walking with her into the sunlight.

Because I have many medical credentials, I was the one that talked for the family. And then talked for the physicians.

I asked all my family to come to a designated conference room. When I talked to my family about removing her life support there was anger. But as I continued to explain to them there was just a deep inconsolable sadness.

When 4 of the doctors came in I told them we didn't need a rundown of all the reasons to remove her from the ventilator. We had already made our decision.

When we turned the ventilator off she could breathe on her own for a little bit. I told my family that she would go fast. But seeing that she was breathing they all left the room. To smoke, to text, to make phone calls.

After they were gone about 4-5 minutes Ashley's breathing began to slow down. I was the only one in the room. I asked the nurses at the desk to call my family overhead.

They still didn't come back soon enough.

I climbed into the bed with Ash and pulled her into my arms. I rocked her and crooned to her. Told her how loved she was.

She took her last breath in my arms.

When my family funneled back into the room I heard over and over again how Ashley must have waited until they left the room to die so they wouldn't suffer more.

My heart cried. What about me? What about me.

I am supposed to tell people how loved she was. How she shined. I think they all know that already.

I keep trying to commemorate her. To write a speech detailing her life and how much she gave of herself to others. How she was the hub a lot of her family circled around. She was unceasingly happy. She was so loved.

You know what I want to do? I want to scream. I want to rant and rave about the unfairness. Point to other people, people I don't know and say why couldn't they have been taken instead? I don't love them like I do Ash. Point to myself also. Why wasn't I taken?

I will tell everyone what they already know. About how wonderful a person Ashley was and how much we love and miss her. How we will grieve the rest of our lives for her.

The night I came home after Ashley died I went right to my mother. I told her Ashley was gone. And she held me, in the dark, with my head in her lap while I cried. She didn't talk while I sobbed. Just made soothing noises.

And that was what I needed. What my heart craved.

I appreciate everyone that called me just to listen to me cry. Some would not even talk other than the first hello. Just soothing comforting sounds. I won't forget the gift you gave me of just listening to me sobbing.

I want to share something that was happening to me the first 2 months during the time she was on life support and the months after. I have never experienced hallucinations before. But I did during that period.  I would wake up with my arms out to people. In the middle of a conversation. Trying to soothe them. Help them. I don't understand why I needed certain things, like the way I woke while dragging dining chairs in my room. Arguing I needed them when my son tried to stop me. Or the way I would stop breathing in my sleep and knowingly maintain it as long as I could. Or the other private personal things I hallucinated.

I called a psychiatrist and talked to her about what I was experiencing. And she told me that it was normal. It stopped after about 2 months.

Part of me knows I was trying to carry the grief I knew my sister and her kids were trying to carry. If I could, I would take their grief and add it to mine. Just to give them some peace.

My niece, Ashley's sister had a little girl a month ago. Her name is Ashley Michelle.

There is no death, only a change of worlds. —NATIVE AMERICAN PROVERB
September 20 was the first Anniversary of Ashley's death day.
You know it when you feel it
An ailment afflicting you
Slowly its symptoms,
Conditions take hold of you
Worsening sooner
Than ever gets better
Until you're a popsicle
Wrapped in a sweater
And weathering feverish chills,
Poppin' pills
As you're counting the minutes
To medical bills
Panacea prescriptions
That just makes me sicker
Than over the counter drugs
Killing me quicker
Than stuff off the streets
Uninsured of what health
Is just a privilege
Of wealth
winter Oct 2018
Dear friends its been a while!
I can't believe
It took so long to reconcile.
So often it feels like
I'm only giving off a profile.
so I must say
I’ve missed your smile.

I've been thinking lately
(And you know how
My thoughts can be deadly)
That maybe I
Am lost again already.
I’ll swallow my pride this time
And ask for help before I go crazy.

I can't feel my emotions.
Every other obstacle feels like
a toss into the deepest of oceans.
And no matter what I do
Its like I’m only going through the motions.
It's so hard to be around people
Without feeling like my mind and body are prisons

Help me, please
I don't want to be alone anymore but
this is the only place I feel at ease.
I feel sicker than before now,
How can I cure my self of this disease?
All my efforts drain me.
Why would my heart have a lock without keys?

I am so sorry
I'm working through some
of this explosive self-fury.
I hope you can forgive me
and save yourself some worry
because I know to ask now and besides:
it's not as bad as it could be.
tbh i could really use some attention. thanks.
rebecca Sep 2018
i've caught feelings like viruses
but i know you're immune
when i ran into you today
in a rush
in a daze
it made me sicker
but a smile still hinted at the edges of my lips
and that's why i hate being sick
Our Lord of rood healed not the blood-engorged hemorrhoid ridges
of the sea-hunting reprobate operating unilaterally as Lloyd Bridges
who slurped rancid-cheese-rendered-runny dribble to avoid wedges
that'd stampede the intestines like a Conestoga of Bill Boyd sledges
that'll forevermore precipitate an impending bowel-evacuation burn
divorced from cat fleas on a dog's tail that cannot be taught to learn
the difference 'tween The Ray Conniff Singers & a conifer or a fern
or why romantic love with prisoners is often more tender than stern
under Allah's clear moon on an Earth without rotational spin & turn
under Islam's see-through moon on an Earth lacking all spin & turn
underneath a divisible Tawhid loon that creaks south a twining turn
beneath a Mahometan transparent moon that lacks a spinning churn
beneath a Mohammedan moon transparent that spins a butter churn
atop a Bahama mama mothering *** buffoons who on a toilet yearn
for new soul incarnations of ornithologists Loke Wan Tho & Mavis
& pro-thrombosis Sabu Dastagir & Linda Boreman's Sammy Davis
whose income-tax-filing talents weren't sufficient enough to save us
as Henry Miller's Max and the White Phagocytes couldn't delay pus
nor **** Americans idiotic with homosexual-matrimonial-*** fuss
that deranges Jesus' clerics via spirals of psalmic worship pray/cuss
that transports l'ordine dei Gesuiti by a Scripturally-choked day bus
Invaginate Man with chemical-warfare vaccines & killer influenzas
too & stick us within the walls of God's Earthly institutions too few
Terry Bradshaw, hairy dads' law, fairy grads' law, Mary's mad shawl
kick ***, shave *****, crucify Christians, blind mice, sign by scrawl
a contract on Loke to make tall movie marquees for Run Run Shaw
who swore an oath on the soul of his dead brother to not wear a bra
till Galen Winsor's criticality mass of U-235 forces an A.E.C. brawl
over sunlight burned from David Bowie's epical "Time Will Crawl"
what possesses no musical tempo for Barry's beagle minus forepaw
for a 3-legged plop into Manilow's heartless, unrighteous corpuscle
as *** tricks & homosexy plays zap go-power from 1 tauter muscle
as queer-bait, heterosexy ploys zip not finesse from a stiffer mussel
on The No-Talent-*** Hour withal **** Mountjoy & **** Trickle
who crash Fords into ditches while cracking lard ***** with a tickle
above the din of Heinz ramming vinegar into cukes to sour a pickle
near the stinking Monongahela River where ****** charge a nickle
while Scaife & Melon courtesans are accurately pegged to be fickle
'cept with regards to the *****-wide fund that causes cells to sickle
& ***** to rash & bruise more effectively than a Taylor swift kick'll
against a dim mak nerve strike on Brucey Lee or rabid chow's lick'll
pass hydrophobia better than a ***** needle that's loaded to ***** all
in a hillbilly-shopping quagmire & swamped-redneck-bog-hick mall
where Deliverance pork cooks quicker than 2 mules in a quick stall
where Deliverance meat bakes sicker than 2 donkeys in a slick stall
where pork-fried Deliverance meat is slicker than Mort "sick" Sahl
where pig-burnt Deliverance props are as thick as Mort "sick" Sahl
where queer Deliverance boar gobs rot in demon Mort "*****" Sahl
Don't sit under the apple tree with anybody else but me or you'll get
cancer unlike Jew Jimmy Hoffa's sell-out daughter Barbara Crancer
the judge who'll not solve the mobster father Riddle with an answer
as she ain't died yet & will never become a strip-tease-go-go dancer
on **** Peak,  Middlesex, trans-Neptunian object Pluto, France or
any other ****-hole where it's easy to make your bloated glands sore
in Glen Campbell's Galveston where the slimy-****-rich sand's poor
up against a plain field that centers the Bible's flat-Earth-land's core
no matter her sudsy Disney image a mermaid is a peterman's *****
The hydro fracturing of planetary igneous stratums delivers disaster
for Billy Hearst in the flicks of Marion Davies' in which he cast her
as a 2-bit cuck-socking trull who plays queen to a queer-bait master
while enjoying Sundays in the rectory diddling a 58-year-old pastor
in clear view of his 300-pound wife as no pig ever ate a meal faster
than a hog could without letting a Mike Obama feast get passed her
because typhus scrub ain't no problema on my Zyklon-B-gassed fur
in pitch blackness with Moochelle Robinson's downy skin alabaster
emimg Sep 2018
mantra and insolence hand in hand
intercepting the idea of the baby boy crush applying to me like kinetic sand
barbie dolls at the marriott
saccharine jewels in the sewers rot
the old girlie i had a tap on
lipstick peeling away like a deteriorated vinyl record's song
let the angels waver, barter, become sicker
and quote 'say anything' as if it's a 90s sticker
have *****-stained carpet posted
uploaded to the black market webs
caption it "****** me"
and let the media do the rest
tired of these wicked games
isaac position me with rachel some day
at the mosque, eve and ann is scratched out into the old testament books
pack the bags
let's go
the hilton's booked
etch and sketch situated on the train tracks
along with two birds together
feet lazily dangling
bargaining with god to finish them over
****** denial, toothbrush stuffed in the dog's mouth
ran down the line, kissing him to the south
lost the baby girl along the way
let the dirt do the talking
gargled some milk and jack daniels honey
in large arms, lucid dreaming never seemed so calming
boy crush :/
e l l Apr 23
i love you, kitty,
you’re truly my best friend.
you’re getting old,
your time’s coming to its end.
you’re getting weaker, and you’re getting sicker.
your coat’s still soft, though it was once much thicker.
i will miss looking into your green eyes.
i will miss holding you while i cry.
you’ve been there for me, and through it all.
i remember when i got you, in 2009’s warm fall.
you were so beautiful then, the color of pale wheat.
you’re still beautiful now, moseying down the street.
your golden fur shines in the sun.
i’ll never forget all our days of laughs and fun.
your memory will never leave me, you’ll always be by my side.
you’re such a good boy, that cannot he denied.
so in your last years, i’ll treat you extra good.
i’ll give you lots of snacks and pets, just like i should.
i love you, Tommie.
Peter Evans Oct 2018
I know for sure this won't end well,
At least for them, and not for me.
But if not me, then time will tell
And there's no telling how soon that'll be.

That impatience always comes
When you're rooting against someone.
I'd call it something you would know,
If I knew myself, to say how so.

Call me jealous, or something alike,
And in their shoes the sick get sicker.
So switch to vengeance, burning spite,
Should anger prove to **** me quicker.

A chance to say 'I told you so'.
Perhaps that's something that I'm owed.
Perhaps it's something that I want.
Perhaps it's really all I want.

And so I'll wait, and wait some more.
I'll wait and wait and wait and wait
And maybe by the end I'll know
If this is good or love or hate.

I know for sure this won't end well
And so I'll play the waiting game.
If all goes south, then I'm to blame.
I guess to them, it's all the same.
My favorite letter in the alphabet is S
Stacks of stunning, spectacular synonyms
Syllables skipping steadily
Sentences so smoothly and simply slipping through statements
Sentences specifying splendid strains of speech such as,

Is supreme, self-governing, self-ruling, sovereign
She’s only seven and still a sensation
She studies strenuously, steadily
Singing songs, scanning stars
Each season she strives

Years go by, everything changes for her
She is now sixteen
Shifted by societies supremacy
She’s self-conscious, self-loathing, sorrowful
She sees her world slowly but surely get sicker
Starvation, struggle, seventeen school shootings
There’s a substantial amount of sorrow

So she sits
Solemn, somber, stern,
She speculates a single simple thing
Something she’d think about since she was six years old
Something to scratch out all her stress if even for a single second
Her favorite letter, the letter S
My first poem, don't know how I feel about it, it was kinda random..any advice?
Cedric McClester Oct 2018
By: Cedric  McClester

Interrogated, tortured,
Then killed
Just the way
The Saudi Prince had willed
An oppositional voice
Finally stilled
On Turkish soil
His blood was spilled

The Turks have
A surveillance tape
That would leave
Your mouth agape
The Saudi reporter
Could not escape
A sicker equivalent
Of *******

Prince Muhammad bin Salman
Hatched the plot
So ask yourself
What have we got
How can anyone
Befriend that snot?
While the bonesaw they used
Is still hot

Nine-Eleven involved
Nineteen of them
They’re the **** of the earth
Or the phlegm
We spit out our mouths
When we can
They’re worst than
The Ku Klux ****

Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018.  All rights reserved.

— The End —