"slaps" poems
is when they mess with your head
light fires in your mouth
and make you hide in your bed
put stones in your heart
to drag you deep down under
they fight and they fight
their screams predictable as thunder
the rain is the part that gathers in mom's eyes
when she keeps you up late
to tell you lies
lying on the couch
her arm over her face
foundation in streaks
like old dry erase
it's when she lets you stay up late
to read to her specially
just to give her departure
more brevity
when she kisses you on the cheek
and holds you tight
then calls the cops on dad
that same night
when she only gives you presents
to make you feel bad
when she feels better
by making you sad
emotional abuse
is when she calls on a restricted number
tells you she loves you
but won't let you see your little brother
when she slaps you in the face
slams your arm in a door
well
maybe that's not
emotional abuse anymore...
when she tells you she loves you
but leaves anyway...
abuse is abuse,
it all feels the same.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC
Her chill
Sends tears down my cheeks
Like a cataract over a hill
Her snow
Slaps my face
Like a **** slaps a ***
Her ice
Makes me slip
Like an alcoholic's vice
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 9:53 PM UTC
What's up is the sky
and I'm up for the stars
and down for a cave expedition.
I'm game for a used copy
since time is literally killing me
while I got pizza in one hand
and an energy drink in the other
so the tree that is my life goes
chop chop chop.
The only chip on my shoulder
is a potato chip
because I got a dozen for every dime I spent,
which is a drop in the bucket of change
I'm saving for Coinstar.
My son Jack has made many trades,
from CDs to movies to videogames to trading cards
and he just so happens to be a Pokemon master, thank you very much.
Resisting a piece of cake
is no piece of cake,
even when the recipe
--complete with a photogenic picture--
is comprised of over a thousand words.
Don't cheat on your diet,
the spinach is always watching
and that Rolex will feel so tight
you'll be praying for thousands
of slaps on both wrists.
When things get hot
you can bang against a clock
to see how long you last.
Just don't crack 'em up too much,
clocks are fragile devices.
My motor's a Cobia
yours is an Evinrude
but otherwise we're in the same boat.
Whenever I fail I don't go to the drawing board,
I get out my scrap book.
I prefer its texture and it is,
truly,
the first square.
When my frustration becomes too much
I might have to beat the bush instead,
after all
it can't be a sightseer forever.
Don't throw me a bone,
I'm not dog,
merely a curious cat
still on his seventh life.
I'd rather be close
than be stuck with a cigar--
smoking's bad and I hate the smells.
If I'm left with nothing, I'll cry like a wolf.
Wolves are hunters, wolves are survivors.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
After 12 seconds, the clock slaps me
" Earthling, what're you doin'?"
Me: "Oh, I'm killing you, immortal. And you?"
Clock: "Just, revolving 360 degrees since B.C.
Now what if, I **** you?"
(Took off the battery . . . then saw another clock)
You see, nothing stops it. No one. But,
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 12:39 PM UTC
Sensual pain like no other
Practiced on a submissive lover
As the hand slaps fast
Naked flesh hit at last
***** agony belongs to you
In your mind, doing what you do
Naughty thoughts connect somehow
Good girl I will call you now
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 9:47 AM UTC
Living freely in this world
My vulnerability, feels so lost
As it seeks the skies to escape all
Perched high away and hiding
My heart forsaken
For my vulnerability
Has left
The little bird has flown
My retreating heart lives behind
Many layers of frozen ice
The warm waters of my heart
Have all frozen over
Come back, come back little bird
A teardrop falls
For I see the loss of potential
In this frozen pond
Where waters should be warm
My heart should sing
Great rich jungles, it should bring
My pride wounded by this world
I stare into my murky depths
My standing in this world falling
As my legs are taken
By the jaws of a giant beast
Far away a bird twitches
My stomach twists and turns
Absorbed I am into the belly
Of a great giant crocodile
I begin to feel my vulnerability
In these dangerous warm acidic waters
As I merge into a crocodile
And high above a bird leaves his perch
As the ice layers break
With the force of my tail
New eyes see the self importance in people
Of this earth, with all their arrogance
I will bring you back to earth
For I am the last living dinosaur
Born from a time when T.rex reigned
And even the birds had teeth
For I still live in waters
Where Piranha's seek to
Frenzy on living flesh
And I am to be scared of you
I warn all of those who wish to disturb
My open and most precious heart
That rests in silence over my pond
For your flesh will quiver
With the sound of my ancient growl
And your eyes will panic
With the sight of my jaw
A quiet bird flutters closer
Bring your bitterness and all your sourness
For I am hungry and love rotten meat
And your disregard feeds my fury
Circle my pond
Where my heart rests softly
With rich and green waters
Bursting and growing in love
For I am not scared to feel
And I will lounge and grab
As a tonne of me, slaps itself
Bang, hard on this earth
For I am here to feel it
And not escape it
But you will be blind
And lost in my depths
I will turn you over and
Your arrogance will feed me
As I grow stronger
You will be ripped limb from limb
A little bird comes closer
My heart free from noise
A silence nestles in me
And all innocence is seen
Beautiful souls float freely
Butterflies dance and play
And my beautiful vulnerability
returns in sweet song
And rests softly in my jaw
A strange paradox becomes so very clear
With a little bird we hold so dear
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 7:54 PM UTC
Are you ******* crazy, he says
and I want to nod,
want to grin
want to peel back my lips and gnash my teeth like a wild thing,
want to jump on the table and scream.
I want to caterwaul,
want to close my eyes and keep them shut
I want to dig my nails into flesh and hear the tear.
No, my voice is quiet like a whisper,
hesitant and unsure.
I want that to be the wrong answer
but I don’t...
I want him to get angrier still
but I don’t...
I don’t want him red-eyed,
blood thirsty,
coming down upon me
but I do.
And when he grips my chin with slender fingers,
I want to sigh,
want to moan like a ***** in heat.
Like a ***** on the side of the road, full with ***
sore with lust and clit-swollen.
When his hand slaps my bare bare skin,
stinging pink brightly under the force of my degradation.
My sweet humiliation,
leaving soft thick welts on my delicate limbs,
writhing helplessly in discomfort,
tears smudging old makeup and
I am weak,
I am ugly,
I am hurting and I am wrong,
impaired and imperfect,
and perhaps I am ******* crazy.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
Holy cow, watch that ***** shake
As she twerks up and down
You know, my lord, that ain’t no fake
It **** near slaps the ground
To watch her twerk is amazing
Giving me a notion
…Need a better view of that thing
See up close that motion
I’m memorized, I sit and stare
Caught up in that movement
***** bouncing beyond compare
twerk be all heaven sent
truth be told I hate this whole trend
young girls objectified
there’s more to you than a rear-end
on second thought…I lied
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
My hair looks like a veil
Straight as a sheet of ice
As I walk through the parking lot
To get my only vice.
The light of a cigar
A moment of pure silence
To wonder how many times
I've had to die since
The time when the kisses hurt,
The slaps felt clean
The taste of dirt
As I lied in between
The leaves of fall
Fingers went numb
Always and again to
became a doll.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 3:07 AM UTC
clenched fists
eyes rolled back, tousled mane
face red from Master's slaps
gentle violence
good girl.
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
The lies,
Make the mask,
Make the face.
**** it fast.
I die, I cry.
They lie, I listen.
Fight the power, **** the machine.
Fight the power, **** the machine.
Fight the power, Save yourself.
Johnny is a white boy,
Born into Democracy.
Johnny is a slave boy,
But he's told that he is free.
Johnny asks his Mama,
"Why am I the same?
Why do I have to work so hard?
Given my bland name?"
Johnny's Mama slaps him,
Makes him straight and true.
Now blindly loves his government,
You are aware that you do, too.
For reasons unbeknownst,
A pleasant government image, you make.
Under the happy illusion,
That you and I are safe.
Jun 15, 2010
Jun 15, 2010 at 6:08 PM UTC
reggae jesus turns water to spliff
reggae jesus push sheep off cliff
reggae jesus kind of *******
Why he push sheep of cliff, why he never clear bowl
reggae jesus have bomba klanga
reggae jesus picks girl and bangsha
reggae jesus slapadabass
reggae jesus slaps yo face
reggae jesus has done enough
reggae jesus is corrupt
reggae jesus put on trial
people think he shouldn't stay a while
reggae jesus put to death
last request to light a spliff
as he takes his last breath
he smells like kush people take a sniff
later People find a field of kush
reggae jesus made a new bush
reggae jesus misunderstood
twas his upbringing in da hood
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 3:46 PM UTC
Samson-bound between book shelves,
in the New Aeon Section,
a pale youth nourishes his ego on
bombastic conjunctive adverbs.
(An imagined sea lion balances a
striped ball on the tip of his
snout & slaps his fins in
frenzied approval. Arf. Arf.)
Though absent, the ring master
smiles from the realms of irony.
He holds the bearded lady by the
burl & orders a reception for
the new act.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 11:14 PM UTC
When you turn a blind eye
I know you still see
it just means its ok
what he's doing to me
You think of yourself
and what you have to lose
every time he comes home
stinking of *****
Turning your back
gives the ok to do
whatever to me
so he don't do it to you
I hope that its worth it
all the **** that you'd lose
to you let me your son
become bruised and abused
You dont hear the screams
or the cries in the night
or the slaps and the punches
when I put up a fight
But don't worry about me
cos I died long ago
just forgot to lie down
so that no one would know
There's nowhere I can run
and nowhere I can hide
When folks tried to help
you just stood there and lied
Well lie about this
when this poem gets read
the truth will come out
they'll know why I'm dead
They'll know that you knew
and you turned a blind eye
right up to the day
I decided to die
For the longest time now
I've been dead inside
well enough of this ****
I got nothing to hide
I was only a kid
that was destined to lose
so his ***** of a mom
got her smokes and her *****
And her **** of a boyfriend
that twisted old ****
got his pleasure from kids
or as he called me her "runt"
You should know when you read this
fore the razor bit down
that I emailed this poem
to the papers in town
I hope that you find me
and it fills you with pride
try and turn a blind eye
now you've nowhere to hide
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 4:03 PM UTC
I saw Jim at Two Amigos
Sitting at the bar,
Stick-handling a coaster.
He was a hockey star,
Showed it when he smiled;
His nose a puck.
He tells stories
Of blood freezing on ice,
Jersey pulls and sweat,
Body checks and corners.
He drives the zamboni,
Making the ice sheet a giant mirror.
The crowds cheer Jim
To get off the ice,
Let the game begin.
He speeds his machine
To the far end doors,
Vanishing down the tunnel.
He's just ordered a double boiler-maker,
Stirs his whiskey with a swizzle-stick,
And slaps back another shot.
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 8:40 AM UTC
This is the Devil’s hour.
It’s when George Lutz hears the ghosts
And murders his family in Amityville Horror.
Shia Labeouf get’s high on acid at 3:15.
I decide to write a poem.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
For 4 hours
I’ve been trapped in the Internet.
From Facebook posts about feminism
To related searches on Google.
“Mexican **** Takes Huge American ****
A video of a man receiving oral from
An eighteen-year-old Hispanic girl.
After ******* on her face,
He spits in her mouth
And slaps her with a foam finger
That says, “America is #1”
The cameraman then says in Spanish,
“Still happy you’re doing ****
------------------------------------------------------------------------
As I watched this woman degrade herself
It became hauntingly aware
That I could have stopped watching at any time.
The men in the video were pigs
But then what does that make me?
A ****** A lonely man?
Not to say I gained pleasure from this.
I don’t get off on
Women being demoralized by
A ***** (the true icon of male dominance)
For the ****** entertainment of others
Man is not a wolf,
Man is a parasite.
(My self-included)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
My eyes are made of glass
My head like a bag of hammers
Insomnia got the best of me.
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 5:25 PM UTC
So ends the Drama locked into your Bronze
Nike kisses you and shows you her Womb
Who, despite Angry Lads, live Life's Beyond
Now Married are you to Testimony
I guess you will survive the Afterthought
Of Promos and Parcels you will not Resist
The Wheel turns again; And in your Forenaught
Honest Advices refuse to make a Fist
You have this Resume of Deaf-Record,
Partial to Characters you do not Like
Even if they ask Penance for your Accord
Your Self-Righteousness slaps them in-spite.
What's the use? Your Friends will come to your Defense
Even if an Ant like me Stings to make Sense.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 3:52 AM UTC
I don't know what happened but things between us didn't work out
All the things you said before, I now started to doubt.
Things began to fall apart
All of a sudden reality just slaps you really hard.
Our love story was magical
But now it slowly turned dull.
We both agreed to take things slow
But now you said your love for me can no longer grow.
You were my lover and all,
But you left me stranded and it made me feel so small.
What happened to us?
Was there even an us?
Yes, I have shortcomings in the way I have treated you.
But was that enough reason to leave me out of the blue?
It's so easy for you to leave me without any explanation nor goodbyes
If only you could see the pain through my eyes.
You gave me so many false hopes
And now I'm trying to unstrangle all these ropes.
I was trying to convince myself that you left me for a good reason
But then again I was wrong and now I've learned my lesson.
You replaced me instantly,
I was hurt badly.
There's nothing I can do
Because somehow I already knew.
It's like I couldn't breathe and do anything
But I am so blessed that there was a King.
My Heavenly Father picked me up when I was down on my knees.
I'm so tired of taking over the wheel so I gave Him the keys.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 1:51 AM UTC
The handcuff bites my wrist
as teeth sink, searing flesh.
A breath, a scent too familiar to forget.
Blind.
Massive palms, razor point
carving canyons down my spine,
blood is the wine.
The burn of beard
feigning consent.
Fistfuls of hair conquering words.
A corpse to rob me of life,
the press of perversity against satin.
Fighting, writhing
satisfaction.
Pain swells in every limb
the wet swell reveal my sin.
Slaps stinging awake
every fiber of clothing still keeping me safe.
The drive of possession
splitting secrets wide,
fingers around throat clenching tight.
Sweat running red,
the rising growls growls resonate in my head.
The raw force bruising
like claiming a slave,
body & mind consuming.
Ferocity leads to frenzy,
my senses rage against me,
The thickness rips,
devours,
conquers my body for paradise.
And I scream in the ecstasy taken.
A clenching incites eruptions,
the pulsing beast flooding.
My purpose awakened.
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 4:10 PM UTC
Neither in the vividness of the arches of a cathedral,
Nor in the dangling bells and echoing rituals of a temple,
Neither on the holiest banks of Nile or Ganges,
Nor among the peaks of the grandest Mountain,
There is no augury, there is no God, is there no God? And if there is,
Why are the eyes of lives haunted by the cruel dreams of disbelief?
Why is banishment tangled around the feet of a truth seeker?
Why the perverse thoughts and deeds ruling the Mankind?
Why the pious body and mind are today full of grief?
If there’s God, Why is this sea of cold blood on a high tide?
If there’s God, Why are the innocent lives being wasted?
If there’s God, Why are the good being handcuffed?
If there’s God, Why the darkness is today the source of light?
The slaps of violence on the face of peace is a sign of doom,
If there’s no God, then these drops of bloods cry for whom?
But GOD is that moment which is beyond knowledge and wit,
That one cipher which has taken centuries and yet not deciphered,
That one point of thought where the minds seize to think,
That one decision which stops a man from giving up,
That one drop of tear from the eyes of an Oppressed,
That one source of energy which makes us to take a stand,
That one voice of truth which demolishes the works of lie,
That one smile of innocence which equals a million shouts,
That one silver lining which makes us believe in ourselves,
Calls Aloud and makes us believe, that there is A GOD,
And He’s Everywhere, With everyone, and Will always be.
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC
I had a dream This
One time where you were
All up inside and I was
all upsidown at camp
and there was rain and baked challah
with hair and dirt inside, but hey
why argue with free food?
And you were feeling me, making my hair stand
On edge and taking your time
Even though an avalanche was ready to hit
Come, bury me in snow and leave me to die in
Ecstasy, come, throw me off a building and
Let me fall into your dark
Gaze but don't let my boyfriend know, I don't
Let the devil out to play when he's around.
Baby, your fingers were lightning, breath like
Cigarette smoke and can you do
The french inhale because I want to be hot
Hot for you, but not only you
Don't forget, I like to roam wild, test
How far I can get you to go.
Manipulative? Nay, ingenious.
But somehow, you end up on
Top, getting me to beg for more, beg for you
To allow me to come and seep through
And you laugh as I grasp at straws,
Smoke some **** boy, its how you feel alive
You're how I feel alive
Passion, pity, cause me pain
But just a little, I like to be handled rough
Hair pulls, slaps, punish me
I've been a bad girl, I've been naughty
Cheating on my boyfriend in my head with you and you're
EVERYTHING THAT HE ISN'T
And nothing that I want him to be, so let
My fantasy continue, see you in hell
You make all my muscles clench with just
A tiny graze of skin, a stupid
Text and I know you don't mean it
You just want some, trying to get down my pants, it's
A game to you
Maybe I want to play
**** I know I want to
Me, a girl like me
As if you could possibly
Hard, let me feel you
As you run your teeth down my
You, stoner boy, make me scream for
Can you make me feel?
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 11:48 PM UTC
Contentment is the greatest evil in the human grab bag of emotions.
It’s born out of the head of ignorance,
it resides in the heart of the blind.
It manifests its evil doctrine of passiveness throughout the body,
until fully enslaved by inaction.
It turns agents into sun tanners,
activists into office workers,
outlaws into accountants.
It puts preservatives into culture, it laminates laws,
it places crowns on faceless leaders.
It slaps a smile across the ***** the beaten, the neglected,
the racially profiled.
It mutes news casts,
veils the homeless man that lives behind office buildings,
glorifies the paycheck.
It makes the walls of homes seem bullet, terror, bomb,
corruption, and death proof.
It allows sleep at night,
it kills the monsters under the bed and the ghosts in the closet.
It causes hundreds of thousands of suffering people to simply, disappear.
It insures, “birds like to be caged,”
and “pain is just part of the human condition.”
It whispers these misconceptions
like a priest insuring his congregation of the power of Jesus. Contentment, you see, corrupts the very concept of progress.
Progress is deemed by the million-pieces-of-paper-owners to be founded in terms of economy.
Progress is deemed by the people-who-stop-us-from-returning-to-state-of-nature to be founded in terms of control.
Progress has forgotten it’s maker,
just as dying old men forget that they were once bounced on a loving knee.
Contentment leaks from the Western world
and infects all those around it.
When you are no longer content
you will begin to see the holes in the patchwork of life,
and wonder how it was you hadn’t seen them before.
When you are no longer content, you will at last demand change.
Dec 23, 2010
Dec 23, 2010 at 9:09 PM UTC
Reflections of self in others
Painfully, reality slaps
Realization of needed change
More patience, more patience,
MORE PATIENCE
The residue of stinging words remains
Making it hard to breathe
There is no escaping self-induced consequences
May 23, 2010
May 23, 2010 at 7:26 PM UTC
A thin, red trail
slaps the pavement,
becomes so swollen,
strands trip around
the neck and cut
deep where there,
in the slick trickles
pulled to small floods,
sinking out, a tip
of the tongue cry
never quite confirmed,
stays strangled. Drips
and ebbs with bottle
in hand, a scarf
in the other. Like ribbon
it weaves into spaces,
drenches the ground
until everything is art.
Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 8:26 AM UTC