"slummed" poems
a harp has been strummed
a banjo picked
a heart has been numbed
a ****** flicked
a page has been thumbed
a sharp ice pick
a mouth has been gummed
a desiduous tick
a cigarette has been bummed
a virginal stick
a town has been slummed
a slippery ****
a ***** has been ******
a little *****
a lonely man jumped
a fall and a click
a crowd has been pumped
a comedy shtick
a mind has been stumped
a clever trick
Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 2:50 PM UTC
a noble man is set forth on a quest
to rescue a damsel in distress
who aches to leave all her pasts
and detach herself from woeful blasts
a gloomy day it is
for the man has not yet come,
who seeks to catch a fleeting glimpse
of the damsel's broken, crimped
and beaten heart
she's unlikely aware of what might come
it's why she sat upright and slummed
for the noble man is yet to come,
to mend and fix her broken parts
a big smile she wore
upon his' entrance to the door
she smiled at him, and curtsied deep
for she has felt some kind of relief
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 4:36 AM UTC
I always thought
orange moonlight
from the corner of an
apartment, painted white's,
window was the best kind
of beaming beauty.
spring colored, natural light,
nothing else. it's beauty I ruin
with my idle self,
for I'd love to be spread on
the trimmed, moist grass,
enjoying the smell of nature's cut.
rather I'm slummed alone
on this paperback writer,
the moon glowing,
the glass a fourth empty,
The Beatles playing,
and the peace I need.
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 1:13 PM UTC
Money hungry,
the hairy blacked belly,
growls like a street mutt guarding his,
conquered bird,
his belly shines rib bones,
his nose is dry,
too many nights,
prowling potholed downtown slummed streets,
his rib cage glows,
like a diamond,
or a pond late at night,
his paws are sore and bulge like his glorious-mutt-society-tortured eyes,
I offer him my silence,
still,
with my eyes on his,
my body sore with long legs lovers,
and sleepless A.M. Nights,
and we both agree,
to part ways,
and leave him to his bird,
and me to the nights,
and that seemingly endless orange illuminated road,
with my paws in my pockets,
looking for my bird.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 10:15 PM UTC
the punch line of this poem
is sweeter than the
smell of old jeans, grimy
under the cuff. it was a disingenuous summer
on our backs. earth worms
belly up in the sun.
writhing. pleading. drowning.
sand rubbing the wrong way on the calloused
cracked heels of summer.
neck slummed against
steering wheels.
burnt cheeks from leather.
tough.
I can’t remember, though.
fed on my memory more than on my body.
the clouds less appetizing than
cotton mouth: violently quiet
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 2:52 PM UTC
Year of the snake. This is the year of further transcendence. An isolated spectacle hanging in the daybreak fog, meeting earth to the clouds and the middle of grey-beam aqua-pasture is where I store myself. The very sad man dreamt again of the very happy woman whom he would never see and never hold again. It was undeniable they arrived together in another time. It was undeniable she was the most disgusting and beautiful sprite of his musing. They devolved instantaneously into the tragic manifesto. And why not? Why not squeeze the great oceans between their chests in an amassing wave of some armada of lowly downed prisms. Playing colors off the wall or the slummed vacated room. Slipping off into my eyes.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 5:01 AM UTC
I back away from the battle at hand
I'm a coward I know it believe me
but what I say they will not understand
There battles relentless no winner determined
So I pray to the heavens ask god for a chance
When no reply comes I'm lost and scared
Because god I thought was the one friend I had
So I cowered more sunk into myself
But nobody saw I just needed some help
I'm emotionally scared physically dazed
In a mindless drone I slummed by day to day
Though every night I hung my head, and prayed
Nothing got better so bitter I became
Inside angry sad outside contempt glad
No longer did I care no longer did I pray
God I felt was up there laughing at me
Trees soon lost leaves and cool air settled in
My brush never stroked the blank canvas
My voice no longer sang out in a crowd
Still not knowing what to do to make things better
The memories of your smile fueled me foreword
Gave a spark of hope in my dreary existence
One memory urged me to make it
While all the others chained me back restricting me
Not expecting a reply I hung my head once more
Absolute silence and racing thoughts
Then it was clear as day as dawn
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 7:21 PM UTC
Unseen like the breeze
they say its a disease
Mental
existential
Lack essentials
nice parental ;
Seemed it meant nada
remain low key
If you not a top shotta ;
so it goes
Ache from the soul
never feel whole
Till his hands reach his goal
high like the sun
Drive wasn't fun
regret filled his lungs
Exhaled lots
got got ;
Buried in the shade
trees kept him cool
Against his cards raged
friends out phased
Tall walled maze
pretty ****** lost
Slummed out days
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 7:16 PM UTC
If properly taken the time to fully unwind the mind you will come to find that its really quit wonderfully sublime.
Take hold my hand as we transcend this staircase together
threw this un-tethered decent into my reality
Can you see it? Truly see the beauty of what is known as my insanity
because quite honestly my words are at a lose you see.
Let go the notions placed on Gravity and float away into my infinity to a far away land just you and me.
As we transverse each verse of unrehearsed blasphemy Ill open up this door so you can see threw to me hahaha this madness is consuming me
Yea I'm a rebel I was born with both middle fingers in the air, commie raised in the slums of my mother land.
Engraved in my heart the hammer and sickle
as we dig deeper my mind becomes more fickle.
Pray your mind can stand face to face with the very beast born from the cespool of darkness and evil from the groins of ever demon (Oh god please I cant stop this screaming) to fight along side the heretic god not even the brothers grim could dream up what my minds slummed up a total mind ****
Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 11:31 PM UTC
hello ***
you seemed to not have noticed
me dressed in your favorite clothes
slummed to the floor like a pile of wastefulness.
good-riddance
you seemed to loss your patience
when looking at a piece of plastic glass
with a half-guessed assumption
of me and her
loving life together.
good-morning
is what I'll sing every-time to my new lover
when she won't be a nosy noisy
never ending story of the same heartbreak
broken on a loop of another thief who stole
and would take your "innocence".
don't forget this
this is what you wanted...
Aug 24, 2019
Aug 24, 2019 at 12:24 PM UTC