"slapped" poems
in making Marjorie god hurried
a boy’s body on unsuspicious
legs of girl. his left hand quarried
the quartzlike face. his right slapped
the amusing big vital vicious
vegetable of her mouth.
Upon the whole he suddenly clapped
a tiny sunset of vermouth
-colour. Hair. he put between
her lips a moist mistake, whose fragrance hurls
me into tears,as the dusty new-
ness of her obsolete gaze begins to. lean….
a little against me, hen for two
dollars i fill her hips with boys and girls.
10.5k
The line didn't move, though there were not
many people in it. In a half-hearted light
the lone agent dealt patiently, noiselessly, endlessly
with a large dazed family ranging
from twin toddlers in strollers to an old lady
in a bent wheelchair. Their baggage
was all in cardboard boxes. The plane was delayed,
the rumor went through the line. We shrugged,
in our hopeless overcoats. Aviation
had never seemed a very natural idea.
Bored children floated with faces drained of blood.
The girls in the tax-free shops stood frozen
amid promises of a beautiful life abroad.
Louis Armstrong sang in some upper corner,
a trickle of ignored joy.
Outside, in an unintelligible darkness
that stretched to include the rubies of strip malls,
winged behemoths prowled looking for the gates
where they could bury their koala-bear noses
and **** our dimming dynamos dry.
Boys in floppy sweatshirts and backward hats
slapped their feet ostentatiously
while security attendants giggled
and the voice of a misplaced angel melodiously
parroted FAA regulations. Women in saris
and kimonos dragged, as their penance, behind them
toddlers clutching Occidental teddy bears,
and chair legs screeched in the food court
while ill-paid wraiths mopped circles of night
into the motionless floor.
10.3k
To be a girl it means that you are frail, right?
That can’t possibly understand a thing
To be a girl it means you stay up day and night
Trying to get that big, shiny ring
But that’s not true, for a majority that is
We have a secret passed down from mother to daughter
The secret is that we pretend to be his
But our hearts belong to one and another
At age 6 being a girl meant you liked pink and played with dolls
But that changed
At age 8 being a girl meant you liked skirts, dresses, bows
That changed too
At age 10 being a girl meant that you were expected to have a crush & kiss him
If you didn’t, you were an outcast
At age 12 your interest in education was to diminish
By age 14 you realized that when a boy slapped your *** you enjoyed it
And if you didn’t you were a lesbian
Ages 12-18 we as girls are told to not show shoulders, knees or skin of any kind because it might distract the boys
I never heard the guys being told to dress a certain way. Have you?
No? I didn’t think so because it might ruin their ego…
Being a girl means that you are blessed with self hate
It’s automatic and hard to lose
There is always an imperfection…
Being a girl means that even when it’s hot, you wear jeans and a baggy tee
So that you don’t have to deal with wondering eyes
Being a girl means that you must look your best ALWAYS or else you’re trash
But not too good or else you’re a **** looking for a good time
Being a girl means that you grow to hate yourself so much that you can’t even look at yourself
Unless you are in public, then you have to act vain
Being a girl means that you have to listen to guys calling you fake because you hate a girl but you’re friends with her the next day
What those guys don’t know is that she saved you from a situation that could’ve made you lose what little dignity you have left
Being a girl means that when you see a grown man starring at a baby…
...you take that baby’s spot
If that means you have to be his princess, babygirl, WHATEVER, for the night
YOU DO IT.
And when you are called a ***** **** the next day, just remember that you helped that child
Being a girl means that when you’re a mother and your little girl asks you why the boys at the school rate the girls on a scale of 1-10 you have to look at her with the same look your mother gave you and tell her,
That being a girl means that you have to be smart, that you have to work 2-3 jobs just to make the same as a guy with 1 job
It’s not fair, but that is how it is.
You have to hug your baby girl when she comes home and tells you that her teacher yelled at her for wearing a tanktop or when a boy touches her even when she told him to stop
To be be a girl means that your are strong
To be a girl means that you are resilient
To be a girl means that you have a secret that is passed down from mother to daughter
And that secret is Unity
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 8:39 AM UTC
I am a ******* broken radio that my grandpa wouldn’t even bother fixing
I got a thousand channels, and all of them overlapped in every second
You came to me and said you wanted to enjoy the 90s
I knew what I had and believed this time I was gonna make it right
“Sir, this is location 328…”
“Love is wonderful…”
“Oh, Jonny! You can go **** your own ****
All the channels got mixed up. Like the cereal that I had this morning
Uhm, It was more like the **** cake you slapped in my face on my birthday last year
I wished you would stop tapping me with your beautiful finger
At the same time, I loved the new crystal nails you just did yesterday. Your soft skin against mine and nails stuck on my back, left me marks and joy
Stop leaving me
Don’t give up on one tap or two
My frustrations attacked the balance of the stupid sound system
I was either too loud or too quiet
You finally left the room
I was still on the table
intermittently playing the 90s
Trying to find the perfect volume
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 6:05 AM UTC
Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.
Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue.
In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.
I'm no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind's hand.
All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.
One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat's. The window square
Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.
8.2k
when i get home
I realize that my father is there
holding and caressing my little sister
and not even looking at me
I feel like i am alone
i run upstairs like a athlete
not wanting to see it
but my hungry stomach does not allows it
slowly walking down
i see they haven't finished it
why ??
why does he not love me like my little sister
why??
does he hate me
TODAY
I am wild with fury and anger
today i will hit her
my little sister and
slap her like nobody else
so, so so
i pulled her hair
slapped across her face
but then my dad slapped my face
i did not care about that
i bite her trying to beat
the crap out of her
i did not realize that
i was willing to beat my little sister
but then my dad pushed me
and
started yelling at me while caressing her
seeing this i kicked on my little sis legs
and she wailed out
crying
then taking initiative
my dad got up from his place
grabbed my arms
and then
took me upstairs
pushing me inside
he yelled at me saying
"you ! how dare you beat my daughter, your little sis like that"
"you are not welcome in my family anymore"
i spoke"I wanted you , you to be my side
wanted you to kiss me hold me like you do to her
am I asking the inferior thing"
he said "even if that was the reason
you should not have done that"
i said "i know and i am sorry"
then
he looked at me with fury in his face
and then raised his hand to slap me
i knew he was gonna hit me
but then he grabbed and pulled me into his arm
and said "you could have asked that"
he hugged me tight
and kissed my cheek
and just slightly kissed my lips
and told me"this kiss is our secret,
so now apologize to your little sister"
i was more than happy so i asked "can I get my kisses and hugs anytime I want"
he replied me by kissing and hugging me
then suddenly i realized
the person who secretly send me birthday gift was him
the fairy who looked after me when i was sick was him
the one who held my hands during thunder was him
oh! god why did not realized it sooner
i was dumber than I thought i was
slowly walking down the spiral staircase
i asked my sister for forgiveness
and she forgave me
then( aftermath)
i walked into kitchen finding my father
cooking dinner
i asked "do you need any help"
and he directed me what to do
we were a happy family
and we are still a happy family
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 10:55 AM UTC
The crown of my unrighteousness pierced Thy skull,
And drops of blood flowed into the veins of Thy brain,
Quite often I please the ruler of the flesh,
But all my ways ripped the heart of the Redeemer.
Thou wert stripped when I am shrouded with iniquities,
Thou wert spit when I choose the fleshly acts,
Thou wert scorned for my fruitless words,
My sins of pleasure nailed Thy palms on the Cross.
Intermittently I let the spirit of evil into my soul,
And how often Thou wert lashed by filthy transactions,
Thou wert kicked with the filth of my boot,
With my heart of pride Thou wert slapped.
Thou hast created me and all within;
Yet Thy Love for Thine made the Way with Thy humility.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 10:40 AM UTC
Ignore the itch you can't scratch deep in the palm of your hand.
Ignore the morning alarms, just sleep right through them.
Ignore the sound of the coffee bubbling over, let it spill.
Ignore the toothpaste stain on your new shirt.
Ignore the voicemail notification, who listens to them anyway?
Ignore the mailman at the mailbox, he didn't really say hello.
Ignore the stare of the drunk man in your lobby.
Ignore the morning brigade of children running behind you.
Ignore the damage your heels are doing to your feet.
Ignore the whistle from the man half your height.
Ignore the traffic light, the cars are going the other way.
Ignore the loud honk from the trucker as he speeds off.
Ignore the liquor store, and the desire to take a shot.
Ignore the "Baby let me talk to you," from the **** wannabe.
Ignore the text message, don't let them know you have a phone number.
Ignore the cigarette smoke invading your lungs.
Ignore the baby boy getting slapped by his mother.
Ignore the bakery with the tres leches cake you like.
Ignore the bank, you're probably broke.
Ignore the homeless woman, she just wants to buy drugs.
Ignore the Facebook notification, just another ALS challenge.
Ignore the time, you're at work early.
Ignore the habits, listen to your conscience and speak loudly and clearly.
You are so much more than ignorant.
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 8:51 AM UTC
Long lost time stretches blacked out questions and
white
in the place where it should have been
A triple threat of time, continuation, and displaced memories
Backtrack
Slapped back into the
black again
I know it's a sin but I ******* love it
Push it, shove it down, choke on the smoke and the fumes of the ancient
Wisdom is the loss of purity
Awakened
Ravaged
Blended back into the swirling twirling Universes, such perverse pleasure in the pain of it all
I love to fall
The wind in your face, blend it with a trace of sweat and blood as it all
clicks
into
place.
I love the taste
Blasphemous and decadent, giving in and giving out to **** it all back in again
RISE and FALL
I grin a bladed smile all the while, never minding the cries
Such pleasure as it dies
All taint of purity reviled
Desecrate the sacred, mutilate this inviolate aspect of creation
Only a seed of destruction contained within the potential
I see and I lust and I take and I ****
Not a drop of precious life spilled
Without cause
The laws remain, rise and fall, rise and fall,
I saw it all and then I sought a call of FLAW
For in the impurity lies perfection
An insecure dissection speaks the truth
As I now lie and speak to thee uncouth
I regret the best was yet to be
Blinded stumbling through Infinity
....just let it be.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 9:50 PM UTC
boo croon the sunflowers
and **** squeaks the jay
this garden was not tended to
and when it was, it was done with bitter blisterless hands
the weeds are creeping out now and thickening stalks
and they move out
out out
goes any sense trust we grew in this garden.
and out
out out
goes my frothy yellow blood into the humid grounds of the garden
and you mop it up and glaze over my barkless parts
boo croon the sunflowers
and **** squeaks the jay
the hose to feed me
was bent at angled corners
and the water shrieked its way through
to come out a subtle flaccid
drop by
drop by
drop
on my parched cracked tan sun slapped skins
and i was angry
that you never felt the need to untangle the hose
because you turned the faucet to full volume
so you assumed that was all the water you could give
and i needed
boo croons the sunflowers
and **** squeaks the jay
the garden is all sand colored and tired
and you don’t feel guilty
you looked at it every day
and squirted what you could on it
and picked whatever weeds you saw
but you never went beyond what looked pretty to visitors
and you let the roots rot across the summer
and now that the winter’s fallen in
there’s not enough water to keep the garden beating
and all the melted snow in the world won’t make up for it
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 11:21 PM UTC
My New Found Fashion Trend
You know I never really understood
How they wear their pants that way
Pull them down to their knees
And walk around all day
But they say it is the fashion
It's a new trend I should try
That underwear is very cool
And catches peoples eyes
So I decided I should try it
I pulled my pants down way too far
Then to show the world how hip I was
I walked through Central Park
All the children were excited
I saw them point my way
They even told their teacher
But she made them look the other way
Well then two cop's they came running
I assumed to see my style
I thought my trend was catching on
But the cop's they didn't smile
Those cops they'd start a new trend
One I didnt like as much
They put my hands behind my back
And slapped on silver cuffs
Now this jail cell seems so small
With this big man next to me
He says he'll be my best friend
And that he likes just what he sees
So glad to see the courtroom
Filled with people from the streets
But they say rethink your fashion trend
If you're wearing a G-String
Now the judge he was not happy
But he did not give me time
He said wear a G-String where you want
No one can take that right
You see the Judge he wore a G-String
Underneath his long black robe
He did not find me guilty
So a free man I could go
So I walked outside of the courtroom
As a free man once again
And became so very famous
For my new found Fashion Trend
Carl Joseph Roberts
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 4:55 AM UTC
One moment we laugh, the next we cry
Invigorating this emotional rollercoaster ride
So slow going up, so fast coming down
Young hearts breaking at the speed of sound
Slapped in the face by the experience of life
Unwarranted emotions of hatred and strife
Roundabout the station we begin to ascend
Straight down then curve as our minds warp and bend
Terror overpowers and tortures our souls
As we reach our ****** of out of control
Attached to life’s rails we’re moving so fast
How long can we expect this passion to last
But nobody wants this ride to be over
It’s all so intoxicatingly sober
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
Poems on a Mirror
~for Glenn Currier~
you don’t know me
I don’t know you;
poems on a mirror I ken
truly well
poems on the mirror saved, and then,
comme the seasoning of leave-falling,
poems dropping and drained...the post-it glue loosened by
the daily heat of watery tears,
making a space for
this one, for you...
there are poems and they arrive with fresh arrogance,
each an arrow demanding your all as a target regardless
of what the shooter really thinks or wants, other than
obedient acknowledgment and their self-loving flattery
but some render where no rendering should be allowed
those are the ones affixed - ones you chose to join the chosen,
slapped onto mirrors - so many that they almost
cover complete your image from presentation
almost only because these poems are yours, you,
they’re the truly accurate reflection even if not your words,
indeed especially because they’re not yours
but they start your day as a poem should
and in doing so,
become you
What a Hall of Fame, to be a poem on Glenn’s Hall of Mirrors
go pick the plums...
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 2:18 PM UTC
*** *** *** ba-dum da-dum]
The Cuck walked up to the cocktail stand
and he said to the man running the stand...
"HEY!" *** *** *** "Got any *****
The man said "Go away you filthy perv."
"Cocktails is all I've ever served!"
"Why don't you take a hike?"
The Cuck said "Go ***** a ****
The he strutted away! [struttin' struttin']
He gotta get paid! [by the hour]
Gotta go to work! [at Trump Tower]
... 'Til the very next day.
*** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum]
The Cuck walked up to the cocktail stand
and he slapped his **** onto the stand...
"HEY!" *** *** *** "Got any *******
The man balled his fists and said...
"Why don't you go get a pocket toy and ***** that you filthy pervert who can't get laid so he comes and bothers the cocktail man because he has no game!
How about you go to another bar and stop acting LAME!"
The Cuck said "Your sister wasn't lame."
Then he zipped up his pants [waddle waddle]
as he strutted away [got the zipper stuck]
but that's all okay [showing off the package]
Till the very next day.
*** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum]
The Cuck walked up to the cocktail stand
and he said to the man running the stand...
"HEY!" *** *** *** "Got any ******
The man got ****** then he started to smile.
"Come on, fellow! I bet you haven't had ***** in a while."
Then they strutted away [my **** itches]
but that's okay [they don't care they're *******
watch out for snitches [shut yo **** mouth]
'Till they arrived at the trap house
*** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum]
"Here you go sir, she'll make your **** stir
She's even got a sister you can **** next to her!"
The Cuck's mind began to go....
"How about.... no!"
"But I like this place...
It makes my heart race...
and it would bring me joy....
it would make my day...
do you think we could...
do you THINK we could...
double team your wife so you don't have to pay?!"
Then he scrambled away! [zipping up his pants]
The man was angry in a trance! [hope he tied his shoes]
He even left the ***** [why'd you do that]
Instead he ******* the Cat.
*** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum]
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 9:43 PM UTC
"Tell me gorgeous,"
He said with his finger under her soft chin
"What are you looking at?"
She looked at his face.
He could tell she wasn't seeing his face.
She knew she wasn't.
"Well,"
She started to say to stall him.
She knew what she was seeing.
She wasn't sure if she should tell him.
"Well,"
She said again.
"Yes gorgeous?"
He said patiently.
She thought about what she wanted to say.
*i don't see you. I don't see you. I don't see your black hair. But his light brown ***** blonde hair. I don't see you. I don't see your brown eyes I once drooled over. I see his eyes. The maybe blue eyes that stole my heart. I don't see your tan complexion but his reddened one. i see him. I don't see you and I never will again.*
"Well,"
She said again.
He moved his hand to the back of her neck.
He stepped closer.
He stared into her eyes.
"Gorgeous tell me. Tell me please."
She closed her eyes.
And suddenly she felt his lips against hers.
She opened her eyes surprised.
She remembered the way his lips felt.
But she didn't want to remember.
She pulled away.
He looked hurt.
And suddenly
Real fast
Everything
Poured
Out
Of
Her
Normally
Silent
Mouth
"I don't see you when I look at you anymore. You know I don't. You can tell. You know you've hurt me a thousand times. You know you've pushed me down. You know you've left a scar so deep It will Never fade.
So why are you here? Calling me gorgeous? When you know you have no right to."
He looked even more hurt.
And suddenly very angry.
She knew he felt guilty.
She knew she was right.
He let go of her neck and raised a hand behind his head.
She looked at him her eyes widening and before she got the chance to run, his hand slapped hard against her cheek.
Slashing it open.
She lay on the warm grass.
Holding her face.
She looked up at him.
And now his emotion was scared.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Tears fell softly onto the grass.
Soon she felt a hand on her shoulder.
She jumped ready to run.
"Shh it's just me,"
She saw the boy with the light brown ***** blonde hair. And the maybe blue eyes. And the reddish complexion.
She relaxed as he pulled her into his arms.
She smelt his sweet scent.
And let him dab the blood away.
"I'll always love you. You never have to worry. I'll always be here. You don't have to doubt it. I'll always protect you. You should always remember that"
She smiled and closed her eyes.
She heard the boy with the black hair stomp across the grass.
She heard a car door slam.
She heard an engine roar.
And then she heard wheels squeal.
And like that,
He was gone.
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
And forever,
The boy with the maybe blue eyes,
Was here.
Here.
Here.
Here.
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 3:47 PM UTC
My New Found Fashion Trend
You know I never really understood
Why they wear their pants that way
Pull them down to their knees
And walk around all day
But they say it is the fashion
It's a new trend I should try
That underwear is very cool
And catches people's eyes
So I decided I should try it
I pulled my pants down way to far
Then to show the world how hip I was
I walked through Central Park
All the Children were excited
I saw them point my way
They even told their teacher
But she made them look the other way
Well then two cops they came running
I assumed to see my style
I thought my trend was catching on
But those cops they didn't smile
Those cops would start a new trend
One I didn't like as much
They put my hands behind my back
And slapped on silver cuffs
Now this jail cell seems so small
With this big man next to me
He says he'll be my best friend
And he likes just what he sees
So glad to see this courtroom
Filled with people from the streets
They yell rethink your fashion trend
If you're wearing a G-String
Well the Judge he was not happy
But he would not give me time
He said wear a G-String where you want
No one can take that right
You see the Judge he wore a G-String
Underneath his long black robe
Since he did not find me guilty
A free man I could go
So I walked outside that courtroom
As a free man once again
And became so very famous
For my New Found Fashion Trend
Carl Joseph Roberts
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 5:24 AM UTC
let me tell you this story
of how i felt better
after a while
first it was my brother that left
then it was my mom
and then my father
who isn’t even my father
wasn’t even around
always too busy to play a board game,
leaving me to play Stratego alone
my brother too old to play with
a younger sister
who plays with his hot wheels
but my father
who didn’t help me
when i needed him most
who didn’t listen when i
made it so blatant that i was hurting
who didn’t hear me when
i was sobbing so hard
and didn’t realize that
i was trying so hard
to not be there
at all
ever
and then there was him
a boy who said he loved me
but wouldn’t listen to me either
said i didn’t have the right
since his parents were split
since one
and there was also him
again but with a different face
who said he loved me
but was with me for the intimacy
who saw my cuts
and instead of listening,
slapped them,
which stung
which made me tear myself up
some more
then there was him
but in the form
of a feeling
that told me he loved me
and kept me warm at night
leaving me heart empty
and my soul bare
it felt right
to be there
but my father
wasn’t my father
and getting to the point
i think i’m trying to make
he’d rather help his girlfriend
and her daughter
than help his own blood
even if she claims suicide,
claiming it’s only a phase
but the scars show it true
that it was no fad
and oh,
i’m not allowed to cry
it seems i’m trying to manipulate
by showing my feelings
i’m not allowed to show affection
because then i’ll be
manipulating
and i can do no right in his eyes
everything i do
is
manipulating
and betraying
and it’s no wonder,
he says,
i have no friends
because i am so selfish
and
worthless
a piece of ****
that will never amount to anything
ever.
he screams,
you do nothing for me
i do everything in this house,
he says,
all you do is take and take
and i’m sick of it
i want some appreciation,
he yells,
connie wouldn’t do this to me
because she loves me
you’re just like your mother
manipulating
and a liar.
please understand,
after being told so many times
by multiple people,
that it seems
i have begun to understand and accept these as truths
and that i really
have no worth at all
and the feeling i have come to love,
(a sense of numbness
that is mine
and no one else can understand)
kept me
simply on the edge
until that night,
but once again
i have gone off track
this is getting much too long
and from the beginning
i’ve been trying to explain
that i don’t feel this way
all the time
anymore
and while i want to
rip apart my flesh and
ruin my hair
i’m starting to feel better
and as if i am something quite nice
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 5:46 PM UTC
It's Sister Lucy not Sister Bridget
who's the crush on the young priest
Father Joseph Magdalene said,
Mary said is she the one? as she sat
on Mags bed listening to music
on her record player I thought
you said the Bridget,
Magdalene sitting beside Mary
passed a glass of lemonade to her
and said nothing certain
you understand just the rumours
I've heard but don't tell
the parents or my arse'll
be slapped for spreading the rumour,
have you a ciggie?
Mary said
putting the lemonade and glass
on the bedside cabinet,
Magdalene poked under the mattress
and took out a squashed pack
of 10 Woodbines and said
open the fecking window
or Ma'll know we've been smoking
and she'll have a moan
and passed the packet to Mary
who took a cigarette
and put it in her mouth
and went and opened the window,
Magdalene took a cigarette
and stuffed the packed
under the mattress again,
Mary sat down and said
have you a light then
or are we to fecking **** on air?
Magdalene took out
of the pocket of her dress
a box of matches
(liberated from the kitchen)
and struck a light for them both
and put the matchbox away again,
they inhaled and sat in silence,
the record played( Billy fury)
and they tapped their feet softly
and nodded their heads,
so what are you doing
about Brian Brady?
Magdalene asked,
what'd you mean doing about
I'm doing nowt with the ******
it's him who thinks I'm going
to be doing things the soft loon
Mary said,
you seemed to be encouraging him
the other day Magdalene said,
ah was fun only I'd not let him
near me in a serious way
no more than the holy Joe himself
Mary said,
smoke filtered ceiling ward,
a car backfired from the street below,
Magdalene leaned in close to Mary
I'm your best friend
and I get jealous of the likes of him
being too near to you,
O he's nothing to be worrying yourself
about him Mags he's just a loon
as boys are Mary said,
Magdalene held the cigarette
a way from her lips
and kissed Mary's cheek,
Mary sighed and said
he's nothing I just give him
the tease he'll get nothing
from my ****** money box,
they both inhaled and exhaled again
and watched the smoke
rise ceiling ward,
the sound of Magdalene's ma
downstairs singing along to the radio,
Magdalene's hand went on Mary's thigh,
a bright sun in a blue Irish sky.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 2:43 AM UTC
He said he caught himself thinking of my long legs when I was absent.
I froze...Silent and annoyed...
Perhaps he was over confidant when he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine.
I slapped him.
It made me feel cheap so I lit a cigarette. I inhaled deeply watching the smoke swirl... if I could just fade away with it.
Lights to bright and sounds that burst. My head hurts...I flick my ash.
Now he's frozen...just watching me.
Perverts and nicotine have the same stench. Both a bad habit I need to quit.
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
So, dope young fellow
With your pretty boy swag.
With your SnapBack on.
Pants so **** low.
Every girl just waiting in line just to give you a blow.
You're royalty around here, but this is still high school.
Taking every girls cherries and jewels.
You think that you're raising the bar but I've seen this before:
Call it VCR.
And then there's me:
Who don't get no ladies.
Because I'm the type of person who actually treats females as actually human beings.
Not toys.
I'll put them before myself.
I care about their joy.
You know what's dead: chivalry.
And it can never be reborn.
Not like Call of Duty: zombies.
Boom, headshot.
But there's another ten coming your way.
Then it gets to the point when you're just blown away.
But I'll be your player 2.
Girl, I'd give up all my perks just for you.
So you guys out there with the pretty boy swag.
Who just zip it all up cuz they think they got it in the bag.
I'm going to fight.
I'm going to step up for the voices not heard.
Cuz you've drowned them in depression, you've choke them with cruelty, and you've slapped them with sadness.
Unable to act.
Like a flightless bird.
I'll let them out of their cages so they can fly once again.
So you can't weight them down:
Call you Anchormen. Ooo, **** em'
So, pretty boy, nothing close to fantastic.
I just wanna say:
That I know I'm swagtastic.
S- saving
W- women
A- against
G- guys
T- that
A- abuse
S- sensitive
T- tender
I- innocent
C- companions.
Shorten that: swag.
S- she
W- wants
A- a
G- gentlemen.
So now boy,
Lets just see which one of us got that "Pretty Boy Swag"
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
Drinking my tea
Without sugar-
No difference.
The sparrow *****
upside down
--ah! my brain & eggs
Mayan head in a
Pacific driftwood bole
--Someday I'll live in N.Y.
Looking over my shoulder
my behind was covered
with cherry blossoms.
Winter Haiku
I didn't know the names
of the flowers--now
my garden is gone.
I slapped the mosquito
and missed.
What made me do that?
Reading haiku
I am unhappy,
longing for the Nameless.
A frog floating
in the drugstore jar:
summer rain on grey pavements.
(after Shiki)
On the porch
in my shorts;
auto lights in the rain.
Another year
has past-the world
is no different.
The first thing I looked for
in my old garden was
The Cherry Tree.
My old desk:
the first thing I looked for
in my house.
My early journal:
the first thing I found
in my old desk.
My mother's ghost:
the first thing I found
in the living room.
I quit shaving
but the eyes that glanced at me
remained in the mirror.
The madman
emerges from the movies:
the street at lunchtime.
Cities of boys
are in their graves,
and in this town...
Lying on my side
in the void:
the breath in my nose.
On the fifteenth floor
the dog chews a bone-
Screech of taxicabs.
A hardon in New York,
a boy
in San Fransisco.
The moon over the roof,
worms in the garden.
I rent this house.
[Haiku composed in the backyard cottage at 1624
Milvia Street, Berkeley 1955, while reading R.H.
Blyth's 4 volumes, "Haiku."]
5.1k
I've spent a really miserable month.
I told the wife we'd go out to a nice restaurant
On her fiftieth birthday,
Which naturally led to happy anticipation.
So, the evening before she asked me,
"Where are you going to take me on my birthday, dear?"
And I replied, quick as a flash, *"Up the ********
The silly ***** seemed to have suffered
A major sense of humour failure;
Surely my prezzie would be a sure fire winner,
Certain to restore bonking privileges.
But when she unwrapped it and saw
A giant green ******** to get her in the mood,
She turned quite nasty on me, to put it mildly.
So I slapped her one in the ******* kisser.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 12:32 PM UTC
Thailand ******
Can read my mind
See my desire
Feel my pain
Siam Halloween in nana klong toey
Thai delights even the ladyboys look good tonight they know how to **** over and survive using a cheap disguise
Hey forang you wanna **** me?
1000 baht short time curiosity.
I prefer real ladies with juicy butts
Flavored with beer and sangsom whiskey *****
Take me home beat me with your
**** asian Treats
Make me lick your ***** feets
Asian women are my lust filled desire
They sit on my face until I can't breath no more
Than make me pay for my ***** laundry
Soap me up and knock me down
Bangkok Thailand is my home town
I slither along the Sukhumvit soi 11, devoted to the ***** I'm in 7th heaven...
Her **** smells better than stupid blonde Suzy the airhead girl next door boring rubber doll
Asian toilet scrubbers turn me on the never heard of boring old vain Beverly hills ugly rodeo drive full of stuffy old hags high on ****** pills
Sad drag Beverly hills I lived in that phoney fake berg I love the ancient town Bangkok where my face gets slapped and hurt!
*** is a weapon.
****** are mans desire
Zeus fell in lust with a Greek goddess than expired?
Nasty ****** in Thailand make me hard
I become 18 again nothing else matters but fun with that wanna be ******
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 9:36 PM UTC
Drift
Noun
A slow and gradual movement or change from one place, condition, etc. to another
Drifting
Verb
The ********* feeling in the world
It’s like, were still friends but we’re transitioning into acquaintances,
maybe even strangers in the near future
Daily conversations start to get rusty
And every word said feels like so much effort
Real talk, becomes small talk, and soon, maybe even no talk
Maybe we’ve just exhausted the list of things to talk about
And you know everything you wanted to know about me and I know everything I wanted to know about you
Or maybe you’ve reached your word limit or something, I don’t really know
But what most people don’t know about drifting is that
Drifting can be a one sided process
Like I’m here freaking out about our friendship and how we haven’t talked in days
And you're just there, probably not even noticing that we haven’t had a single conversation
If our friendship was a group work
I’d be that person doing everything, trying to fix things, putting so much effort
And you’re the one who seenzones the facebook group chat
It’s like we were on boats and suddenly a current rips us apart and if you just pull me in your boat everything will be okay
But no, the current is pulling me away from you and I am using all my strength to paddle back to you
And you don’t even notice and you even find the time to take a swim
Our friendship was a rubberband
You were holding one end, I was holding the other,
The rubberband stretched as the friendship grew, it got tighter and tighter
and suddenly, you decided that rubber bands weren't cool so you let go and i got slapped in the face by our friendship
It’s like wanting to chase you, but not wanting to chase you
Because it can come off as clingy
It’s like wanting to talk to you but I don’t
because I don’t want to disturb you
and that ***** cos you're the only one I want to talk to
but I'm probably not the one you want to talk to
so I just scratch the idea out of my head
and think of another way to talk to the person I once had endless conversations with
the hardest part in drifting is deciding what to do
should I let go?
Because they say that drifting is just a sign from God that you’ve learned everything you can from that person, right
And if I do let you go and we’re meant to stay friends aren’t we eventually going to find our way back to each other?
Or should I hold on, on this one-sided stretched rubberband of ours
and try to fix something that might not even be broken in your eyes
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 12:24 PM UTC