"slurry" poems
I'm in love with a man
I know not to love,
his heart will never be free.
I waste my days
a slave to his ways-
knowing he will never love me.
He is the secret
I can never reveal,
the best lover I ever have known.
I've nothing to give
but my body.....it's his-
fresh dirt for him to bury his bone.
Hopelessly hooked
on him like a drug,
wanting him day and night.
I play his ***** game
I have no shame-
taking it all, knuckles white.
Dead is the conscience
I knew so well,
and morals.....they ran far away.
Clarity now blurry
in a love-drunk slurry-
the 'good me' has gone astray.
To lay with him
is playing with fire,
the flames...they burn me alive.
Leaving me marred
hurting and scarred-
the pain on which I thrive.
A fool for punishment
I beg for more,
even if all I am worthy of is ****
Loving him breaks me
it overtakes me-
but I'm not willing to quit.
I die a little more
with each passing day,
until again, I get lost in those eyes....
All doubts go away
so for now I'll stay-
living this life of lies.
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 1:54 AM UTC
The two collieries where I was employed,
Houses now stand winders destroyed.
From a window where I controlled the flow,
I could see the horizon far and low.
I can also see sunrise and set,
Pictures past I won’t forget.
Through the shifts seasons would go,
From summer sun to winter snow.
To wake one morning already too late,
Decisions were made to close the gate.
Work was gone and mates were lost,
Ripped apart at great cost.
Left us with a grey slurry beach,
The nanny goat path we walked to reach.
Down to the coast a ***** line,
Carried shale from the mine.
Through our town they ran so fast,
To tip more waste upon the blast.
Now I sit where I want to be,
Looking out at the great North Sea.
From chemical beach to clean east shore,
The north east pits are no more.
From brownie box in old dark room,
To Digital with super zoom.
Memories fade but photos show,
All we really need to know.
St Marys church to Hawthorn hive,
These scenes of Seaham will survive.
Apr 21, 2010
Apr 21, 2010 at 7:48 AM UTC
Oh beloved princess,
I'm just a commoner,
I just drink cannabis,
Lime & shank I have.
You are daughter of the king,
I lack any maids or servants,
You are protected by shawls,
I lack even a blanket or rug..
Get married to a moneylender,
Marry a lucky man...
I have pieces of purity,
But I'm just a commoner,
I just drink cannabis,
Lime & shank I have.
You live in the palaces,
I roam the wilderness,
You are not used to it,
I am used to roaming.
Get married to a rich man,
Marry a lucky man.
I just have purity in me,
Yes, I'm a commoner,
I just drink cannabis,
Lime & shank is all I have.
I carry on my austerity in incense,
I drink a slurry of cinders,
I tame hundreds of snakes on my neck,
I will scare you off my saturnalia.
You need a man with wavy hair,
A man with wavy hair.
My hair is dishevelled,
I am a commoner,
And I drink cannabis,
All I have is a lime & shank.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 12:07 AM UTC
A ****** of crows, an ostentation of peacocks,
a parliament of owls, a knot of frogs,
a skulk of foxes, a siege of herons,
a paddling of ducks, a charm of finches.
This bevy of birds is a vocabulary find,
But what can it all mean,
In the world of human being?
A troop of toddlers, a slurry of students,
a gaggle of gentry, a bevy of boys.
I am of a mind that in naming of kind
Human being is best defined.
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 11:46 AM UTC
the garbage truck didn't turn up to-day
and the neighborhood trash stunk all day
a gross smell drifted across the street
it was akin to a rotting pile of peat
the council have heard the odd gripe
they've been told that the ******* is ripe
the residential area is no perfumery
our quarter acre blocks are so stinky
we'll be forced to vacate the neighborhood
as uncollected garbage is far from good
the air is heady with stale fish and curry
vegetable matter and an assortment of slurry
it is hoped that a truck can soon be found
as we'll be decamping the area's bounds
our noses have had a harrowing time
inhaling a stench which isn't sublime
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 7:42 PM UTC
~ We miss the nights
Filled with starlight skies
Drinking till our words
Are slurry
And are vision
Is blurry
Laughing by the fire
Our thoughts are intertwined
With one another
We miss the mornings after
Filled with moans
And groans
Waking up to a messy hair
Boy on your left
Smiling to the soft morning air
We miss the days
Filled with a summer haze
The sun kissed our skin
Making our lives
Colorful again ~
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 9:02 PM UTC
She dragged a steak knife
across her forehead.
I said,
What the **** is your--
Hey, we all have problems.
She killed herself with
the memory
of a system.
Everyone was begging.
Beg. Beg. Beg.
Make me a star!!
I want to be
Kurt Cobain!!
So, they dragged blades
and did smack.
Tweeted lyrics
and took selfies
with a poster of--
But she was never alive, right?
There can't be a her
if there's a me.
But I suppose what it condensed
is bound to
shoot out into
itty
bitty
stars.
Good ******* Christ,
redeem the men and women
slaughtering genitals.
Grinding against
the hole in society.
Are you ******* serious?
Oh my god,
I will die if he takes off
his skin!!
What a hunk.
It was all elaborate
and people were saying
"droll".
That's a thing.
Everyone was ******* lame.
Then, the men stripped.
One, Jupiter.
One, Titan.
And what was stopped
was a hurried whisper,
traveling the confines
of the classroom.
And the men
clothed. And the instruments
unused.
Sketches ceased before creation.
Paint without purpose.
What a Greek tragedy.
Boo-fucking-hoo.
What I could only imagine
a slurry of too many words
aiming at my brain.
The mention of us all.
You don't understand.
**** you.
She dragged a steak knife
across her forehead.
I said,
What the **** is your problem?
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
oh, little ones
if I could build you a worthy city
to keep you safe and dreaming
I would crush the hope I had left
into a powder,
mix it
with all the things we grown couldn't be
and lay the slurry out to set,
harden it with sun and air
not hate
forming a foundation
where futures could be built
oh,
but my tools have no power
I dented them in fury and shorted them in tears
before they could be used to build
oh, little ones
if ever I find safety in this homeless land
I'll wrap you in it
in a heartbeat
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 11:24 PM UTC
Man enters the tavern
Claps down some cash and outbursts ;
'Thirsty Things Firstly !'
The barman evaluates his condition
And provides a session brew
Man tilts toward potential company
(a ferrety bloke in the shadows)
"Pull up that stack of milk crates
And halve a heart with me"
(he earns a quick friend
in a tolerant stranger)
Soon fellow gaspers fill out the gloom
And an eve of humour descends
Though soon upending
Gourds downed the gullet
Sunk ugly into the scene
The tippling wit drags the night
to the Slurry Pit
things turn Psychologically Rugged
his Mates soon round on him
bulldozing at the Elbows
saying he's a Cheapskate
they Berate him with rigorous Rattleprat
he's been goated with the Cain's mark
they tousle his crown malicious
Thorough in his cups and eaves
he mumbles and leaves
heaving up bile words
unheard
gurgle
over
his
shoulder
outside is dark and harsh
Outside the whole wild world does wail and weary
drunkenly
he sings to match its melancholy
but sadness lifts with his altered view
he sees 'a flock of moons' weigh down the sky
and natures churn
makes a phosphorescent stew of it all
... decay
to lifes' celebration
Jun 27, 2022
Jun 27, 2022 at 9:04 PM UTC
Life is like a random array of perfectly sculpted moments.
I stood in a moment of silence reminiscing to the tune of the wind, in the glimmer of the lights in the distance.
My life, is like a photo album of assorted moments :
The first time I met my best friend ; the half afraid,lost baby gazelle look she gave me.
The first time she cried, that big eyed girl.... Tear and kohl stained cheeks, embarrassed eyes and my hushed tone : this too shall pass.
The unexpected confession of a shy person in a soft voice : I had to stalk you a bit for this, she sketched a portrait of me for my birthday.
The awkward hug and we will see you soon, I can still remember my grandpas face red and holding back tears.
The bear-like side hug and a kiss on my forehead, it was an understanding from the older brother that I never had, thank you for meeting me.
The drunken slurry "you know more than most do" from the friend who isn't a friend anymore.
The feeble hug, lingering soft fingers and a goodbye promise to meet soon, from the grandmother I miss a lot.
Those wide eyes,the feeling of respect from the sister who means the world to me.
The all-too-soft goodnight kiss from a mother on a particularly bad night, she stroked my hair an said that she loved me.
And the pat on the back and a tearstained hug , the words "I am proud of you" from the father who is the centre of my world.
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
1.
What a summer
Such a dream
You’re getting married
And then she is staying until the trees wilt away
2.
Don’t you know
It’s just a present
I’m leaving for good
3000 miles away I’ll stand
But I’ll still love you
Please understand
3.
It’s hard here
It’s rough here
I have not felt much love here in such a long time
The nightmares leave me scared
4.
One time we left
No one knew
Grain creeping between my toes
Salt sniffing my nose
I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful day
Happiness is in the moments, they say
5.
I’ve had far more moments here than there
I can’t seem to remember much from before
It’s blurry and slurry
Like that night in that house
Where he crept in like a mouse
6.
You’ll be happy in this life
I’m not worried
Have faith in my actions
I know what I want
I know what I need
I just wish I knew what I was doing
I wish I knew where I am going.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC
Deep down
I crave the sacred
Now that everything is
Just a dust mote limping along
The curvature of a light beam
in this dilapidated house
I've winked
At everything but the kitchen-sink --
Although, I do have my eye on it
Cynic
Know-it-all that knows he knows
Nothing
Conflicted
I wish I knew subtlety
Mona Lisa's quarter-smirk
Makes my emojis feel
Sorta slutty --
like they try too hard ya know?
^.^
Heaven:
Rainbow-colored
toothbrush mustaches
And
Killer drones friended by elm trees
Dissimulation is
my religion
Because
it just explains things,
It walks back the big crutch
It makes gods into amoebas
All. I. have. are. words.
******* scribbles.
Stillborn syntactical limbs of whim
Severed at the moment of send
Yet still
I deliver and hold them
Close to me
They are my ex-press
A last confession straight to the quick
The world doesn't spin it screams
We just Van Gogh it with
Slurry nite nite sleep tight's
God, what I would give
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
5 shots
vision;blurry
my voice is slurry.
10 shots down my throat,
liquor filled with doubt and woe.
15 shots burning down on me,
drunk of the Hennessy
20 shots and everything is blurry
tonight, im drowning
with 20 shots and counting
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 3:45 AM UTC
The car and I,
we made our way
into the downtown
portion of this Midwest
mini-metropolis.
The sun was out,
snow melting,
and it sounded a lot
like rain as everything,
everywhere
dripped and plopped
creating a slurry of
grey road juice
that hissed under
the tires as we
passed by.
At the intersection
nearest to my friend’s
shop,
there was a refrigerator
box that had been
tossed in the street.
It,
like most things,
was on its way
to disintegration.
The red letters
that were inked to
the sides of the box
had started to run,
making the box look
to be some kind
of suburban roadkill.
I wondered briefly,
as the next holiday
rounded the corner
if the contents of the box
might be a gift.
Or…
Maybe a:
********* The fridge is shot!”
kind of unexpected
expense.
Either way,
the car and I
had other destinations
to reach.
So, I let my thoughts
wander still
as the tires turned
underneath.
“What would it be like to climb the steel stairs
on the sides of those buildings nearest
the scrapyard?”
Someday,
I’ll find out.
Surrounded by the steam
that comes from those buildings
doing whatever it is that they
might do,
I’ll smoke a cigarette,
count the pigeons that land nearby,
and think of the best way
to tell you all
about it.
***
-JBClaywell
© P&Z Publications 2018
Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 5:12 PM UTC
after the tall glass of wine, i was rapt,
i was unaware, i was entrapped
to the spirit, i succumbed
my knees, now numbed
one hits the cold wall
...u n c o n t r o l l a b l e...
then falls "ka-blag" on the other
feeling so light as a feather...
..............f a l l i n g............
my eyes are Garfield-ish
hands, like a mallet, heavy-ish ...
G O D !
my mind, ~~~d r i f t i n g ~~~
i need some black, brewing...
gotta have strong bitter coffee, dark
to take my slurry mind back the track.....
after the tall glass of wine, i was rapt,
i am now much aware, i must avoid being trapped...
Sally
Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 9:52 AM UTC
you are not the pant of promises the night dances me, you
are not the dream my day would sleep for, you are
not the dusk cloying my day into stumbles into trees and over trikes
and I am not the dawn pulling night’s ******* back down.
I
am
the ladybug
in wind upon a stem planet-lit,
earnest are my chandelierwings.
I am the Blackbird ardent on melting snow. I, the am, the
moonwhorler pouring pale blueberry sunshine I slurry
the rare earth of your core
.
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 10:42 AM UTC
Ur ******* crazy
Because your young and I can see the adventure in ur eyes
You don’t do nothin on weekends
Still most confident and withdrawing
Rather ride around on the beach by the water where you live
Than hang out with me, us
I guess I should’ve thought of that before I fell for you hard
Bout how you prefer your lonesome
Let me in
Before I found out how many miles an hour your moped can go
I should probably’ve done something
Need to stop idolizing you
Read me
Take my foot and drag it against your leg
Own me, why do I predict
I’ll be too needy
You’ll take distance and cancel
You’ll cancel and fall in passion with your own mind and soul
Look down at the ground
Bend your endless back
Show me those eyes with your amazingly hopeful smile
Bend up again and talk a bit slurry
Dark dark tones, tender
Let me combine your guitar strings with my aching desire
Aching aching
Desperate for adventure
And all the other ones sit quiet and awkward looking into complete and pure nite
Me and them have already shared our ideas
Empty empty and desperate for action
For love, wondering if this is all we’ll ever be
Put me on to your black motorcycle and never stop
Grab my thighs while I’m behind you to ’assure’,
I’m stuck to you and I won’t fall of
Only if a double decker bus crashes into us
I will fall off
With you
Whisper how you feel
Even if you’re only expressing hunger
I see visions in those dark brown eyes
Tip toe into the bathroom, look in the mirror
Yayo, yes you
I’m always buzzing just like neon
Imagine
Make our souls complete
Join the ones who just are there
Confess loneliness
Slow dance in the dark
Et prends ta guitar
Now there’s one last chance
Don’t reject again
Paris, way to set up but
With our school french group thirty people
Possible freedom with your friends and mine
But only if you touch me with your fingertips
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 2:53 PM UTC
Secrets spill from your lips
In hiccuped slurry speech
That night you learned the most important lessons
Teachers never teach
You're on the fence
But you always tumble in an empty bottle
Trapped on all four sides
Looking up at the light, legs weak and wobbly
And those lines you stood by
Those boundaries began to blur
All that you believed in
Every bridge you charred and burned
Did you find the answers
Laced within those pills?
This self medication will make you numb
To what you must rebuild
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC
A living skin, a skein of green briars
where a half-hinged door is wagged by the wind
Good-natured god, decay’s stigmata-stained spires
nettles paint the stairs splotch patterned, olive skinned
Glass window shards grab a slip of silk curtain
pick-pocket beetles engrave brute luck broadside
Chimney thrushes cabined in ash are certain
cynicism’s growing sums are rectified
Blue jays opine time’s cuckoo clock mocking
worms ply enormous copses, scrawl casts of clay
Autumn gusts and rains whirl detritus stocking
flung colors Pollocked, clutter’s chaos array
Hours dissolve the acorns and soft seeds scatter
as grasses grown tall have turned light yellow
architecture’s flourishes are picked off
crumbled valuables filched and turned to dirt
tumult’s passages dug the driveway’s trough
carrion feeders pull black quills from their shirt
slugs smear a rainbow trail and mice scurry
collapsed walls fall to the slush of leaf slurry
Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 1:15 AM UTC
When you're alone
And life is making you moan,
I know what you can do.
Blow me.
When you've got worries,
And your speech get's all slurry
Seems to help, I know,
Blow me.
Every time you come around you're always causing trouble.
Why can't you be nice and friendly?
More like Betty Rubble.
Vicodin.
You think that it makes you feel good.
But it just ***** your brain up.
You've misunderstood.
So just BLOW ME!
Don't be afraid to just BLOW ME!
Even Ruben Kincaid says to BLOW ME!
It's the best use of your mouth.
blow me,
BLOW ME
Don't hang around
While scratching your ***** mound,
Unless you're willing to,
Blow me.
Maybe you know
Some other places to go to
But right now you can,
Blow me.
Every time you come around you're always causing trouble.
Why can't you be nice and friendly?
More like Betty Rubble.
Vicodin.
You think that it makes you feel good.
But it just ***** your brain up.
You've misunderstood.
So just BLOW ME!
Don't be afraid to just BLOW ME!
You and your PhD need to SHOW ME!
What you can do with your mouth.
blow me,(blow me),blow me,(blow me)
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 12:59 PM UTC
Your voice was all I heard
The way you said every word
So genuine, honest and true
Captivating, but scary too..
Because I lose myself, my control
When your voice tickles my soul.
Things around get a bit blurry
Pupils dilate, speech gets slurry!
All the anxiety, this rush that I feel
Your voice'll cast a spell and heal.
May 6, 2018
May 6, 2018 at 12:17 PM UTC
Hi, how are you?
I hope you're having a good day
and you have a smile
on your pretty face
and I wish I would have listened more
to what you had to say
but hindsight is twenty
and vision gets blurry
words gets slurry
when you were scared
and needed somebody
I was out with a friend
getting drunk at a party
I'd blame ADD
but in reality
it's just me
always thinking about me
when you were there
and that would have been better
so I wrote you this letter
to let you know
I enjoyed our time together
I'm going to leave it up 4 a while
so you see it
if you're on the bus
or waiting for a train
maybe you'll read it
and whether or not
a difference that makes
I just thought you should know
I still think you're great
okay, I have to go now
hope you have a nice day
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 2:38 AM UTC
Tic-tac-toe
three in a row,
he swings hard,
alarm bells go,
a knife and knife
a circular ring
who's got the guts
to come clean?
Slurry of blows,
slurry of speech,
maybe there's more
to being a leech,
a man made of pride
a man made of sorrow
what's a man to do
when he can no longer borrow?
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 10:40 PM UTC
A bizarre evening. Pains in my sides
Bleary eyed hmm
Where is this all going to end?
Asking her desperately
Like the answer was my life blood.
****** drunk slurry black dress
White girl drunk heavy mascara
Strung out crying desperate
Tell me I can be good
Tell me it's not too late to forget about all those stupid existential questions
STOP STARING INTO THE ABYSS
pathetic white boy problems
PTSD feels so selfish but can't get threats out of my head feeling sic
What was that you gave me? Little red pill sleepy yes. Don't look too close I'll see right through you
Eat you up
Muffle the sounds of the loud world (they're in the walls scratching and scraping) It's in the air they're poisoning the water and I'm sure poisoning the well.
The water laced with heavy metals
The food is filled with cancer
But doctors say it's eighty percent genetics
Doesn't mean what you think it means anyways
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
Walls dark with slurry
I clamber up the sides, my life in a hurry
But down I slide, ever landing to hard to see
Never will I be free
I beat myself up every day
I cannot climb the ladder this way
They tie me down upon the ground
The shoes they wear, on me can be found
I am the doormat
The bridge for them to step up at
This work just makes me sadder
Why does it really matter
The ladder I wish to climb, is slippery you see
To succeed at life, is a mystery to me
How I wish I could live
Even if they would just give
Give a little of what they have to me
The breads crumbs, I would leave
To the next who climbs the wall
So they would not have far to fall
Mar 10, 2012
Mar 10, 2012 at 12:26 PM UTC