"sms" poems
You
I waited
for a long time.
Speak,
My hope will
End.
An SMS
changes clime,
Weak.
When you will
Send?
Nothing
I asked for.
Offer
Some bliss
To me.
I desired
Not a life nor
Glamor.
You, just miss
Me.
Once,
You, become
Plaintive
And express
Heart.
Tell
Felt some
Sensitive
And confess
Part.
Let
My heart leap,
Knowing
Your aptitude,
Stance.
Let
The heart keep
Singing,
And in solitude
Dance.
S. Bharat
Apr 9, 2019
Apr 9, 2019 at 3:57 AM UTC
Gua sama sekali gak maksudbuat ngejelekin, ngejatuhin cowo gua yang sekarang
gua punya cerita yang mungkin lu semua pernah ngadapin dengan kejadia yang sama
gua punya cowo, asli gua sayang banget sama dia, gua pengen ngebahagia in dia kayak gua pengen ngebahagian keluarga gua. Tapi, ada banyak hal yang selalu buat gua ragu sama dia.
1. dia gak pernah sms ato nelponin gua duluan alesan tidur.
2. gak pernah bilang sayang sama gua, kecuali waktu nembak
3. kalo di ajakin alesan nya segudang, mungkin penuh kali tu gudang
pasti lu semua punya pikiran kalo dia Cuma mainin gua, ato pun gak sayang sama gua?
tapi biarpun dia kayak gitu, gak tau kenapa gua tetep aja sayang. Gua ikut aturan dia, gua ikut apa maunuya dia. Pokoknya semua maunya dia gua jabanin deh
karena ada satu hal di diri dia yang sulit banget gua lupain selama ini adalah KENYAMANAN kalo dideket dia.
Padahal yah, gua punya seseorang yang jelas.jelas sayang sa,ma gua, bias ngasih apa aja yang gua mau, yang bias ngebahagia in gua dengan semua hal yang dia punya, dia adalah mantan gua yang pacaran sama gua 2 tahun lebih.
gua udah banyak ngelewatin hari sama dia, susah maupun senang, dia mungkin satu.satu cowo yang paling ngerti siapa gua.
cowo yang paling care sama gua, pokok nya cowo yang paling sempurna deh dia
meskipun kayak gitu tetep aja gua gak bisa boongin ati mgua sendiri, pacaran sama dia tapi inget orang lain buat apa coba?
lagian gua harus nurut apa kata orang tua gua gak boleh pacaran sama dia, toh gua gak bias ngelawan.
*buat kamu cowo yang jadi pacar aku : please donk sayang, jangan cuek sama aku.
jangan suka banyak alesan, aku tuh sayang banget sama kamu.
coba deh kamu yang ngertiin aku sekali.kali jangan akunya terus donk
*buat kamu cowo yang aku sakitin : maapin aku udah nyakitin kaamu, semoga diluar sana kamu bakal ketemu cewe yang syang banget sama kamu.
maapin aku
#sekarang gua Cuma pengen satu hal yaitu lepas dari kedua.duanya.
gua mau orang baaru, tapi gua takut tuk memulai itu semua
sangat.sangat btakut
Apr 19, 2012
Apr 19, 2012 at 5:16 AM UTC
She is a succulent bunch,let me be helpful,
if you don't get the complex chemical scent,
I call her ,"a girl of unpredictable
meeting places"inotropic, is her effect,
She sends heartbeats way up.
Delectable too, she was, every time
I tasted certain parts of her.
Her avatars are numerous, like Hindu Gods
With specific intention for each incarnation
Onee will be pushed in to neurosis,
if doesn't completely relish her infinite variety.
She is a cryptic mystic,
for a while from signals
I discerned and firmly believed
Or is she just a creature mysterious
Doubt raises it's head, like a lotus
From slushy pond
My eyes met her at the level of her eyes first,
the rest in a haze to me was invisible,
Then my heart sends a message
"Right now, I missed a beat here"
Heart then recites a poem,
tells me, it is all her making
"Don't fall in love" heart's advice,
"Go, dissolve in her completely"
Even my own heart has crossed sides,
or is it truly an advice for my sake?
Love is a hallucinogen, get it?
she whistles like wind at bamboo groves
from within sings like a thrush,
she is a magpie, or is she a koel?
Nocturnal animal, in need of mating,
making calls, frantic SMS, incessant.
She is wind and water, elements
that make one burn and drown
She spreads her yoga mat on the floor,
asks me to sit cross legged Indian style,
I am already for that in my mind,
So I spread eagle in corpse pose, indicating, "All through my life", mother earth gives me warmth.
Shanti, Shanti, shanti
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 7:45 AM UTC
O rain,
That falls
On the green
That I love most
Let me kiss
Your tender chest
Nobody to come, or go
Alone, alone, alone,
Have to bear the heat and odors of earth
Was the world built by someone?
In it, the marks of a kiss
By me or you
Is graffiti
In Ethihad’s cabin
Your name is Mariyamma,
Mine is..
The sound of someone singing on earth
Mother might be crying
You might be singing
Or else I might be muttering about myself
There is only one place to say
Peace, peace
Your mother’s ******
Only one way to come out
To go inside, at least a thousand ways, but
All blocked
With what Ammu, Ammini and you have earned
Not as beasts,
Not as humans,
It was not father
Or mother
Who gave birth
To us as us
Someone else..
Will name a dream after you
Will name another one after you
If you miss at one, you will get it right at three
I will give my name to the third dream
A mouthful of grain is a word
There is a mouth
There is rice
When these two combine
You
Like myself,
So unbearable,
Love.
Children,
Was it the food you ate
Or the tall and hefty myself
You or me
You or me
Please take with you
The care and protection
Of this SMS
In the morning
When
Anxieties leave
As I fight like a butcher,
No,
No,
Preethi, from Maha Iranikkulam
Calls me to take a bath in the temple pond
Was it you
Or me
Or our children?
Amma,
Amma,
Amma,
Amen.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 6:42 AM UTC
SPORT'N SPICY stod der i SMS'en, SPORT'N SPICY blev hendes mål.
*** smurte rød læbestift på sine sprukne læber,
og strøg mascara-børsten på korte lyse vipper.
Strøg de lange spaltede spidser tilbage med kammen,
og skjulte strækmærkernes historier med Bio Oil.
*** Opstrammede bækkenbunden med knibeøvelser.
Trak i åleslanke dybblå netstrømpebukser,
Så kurverne blev fremhævet og alderen blev glemt
Alt sammen for én aften på madklubben.
Med en latterlig fyr, fra midten af Centrum.
Som kun ville lege.
med følelser og sexlegetøj.
Ikke far-mor-og-børn
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
There once was a far away Miss,
Who wished she could give her man bliss.
She knew what to do,
And immediately blew
Him a sweet little SMS kiss.
<3
Nov 21, 2011
Nov 21, 2011 at 12:27 PM UTC
sms krne ke fayde
1.mai bhi khush
2.jise bheja wo bhi khush
3.yado ka silsla bna rhta hai
4.kon kanjus hai wo bhi pta chal jata hai
:-)
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 2:56 AM UTC
Too thrilled by the case,
Sherlock just disappears,
To begin with a chase,
John is let alone,
To get a cab, and go to Baker St. .
But wait- wherever he goes,
The telephone booth starts ringing!
He waits for somebody to pick up,
And continues to walk;
The third booth starts ringing,
The caller must be desperate to talk.
A black, shiny car,
Pulls over for John to ride,
The destination seemed far,
In this conversation-less hour.
"Anthea", answered the accompanying secretary,
When asked her name,
Fake it was,
Absolutely.
The anxiety was over,
John was confronted by a well-dressed man,
Who offered him money, to spy,
The guy, who deduced Watson's army background,
By his tan.
The "arch-enemy" of Sherlock,
As he introduced himself,
Told John about his psychosomatic disorder,
"You are back in the game,
You don't fear danger,
You've missed this lifestyle."
True it was,
Pretty much,
"Could be dangerous", wrote Sherlock,
And there he was dashing into 221B.
Sherlock was quite disappointed,
When he got to know about the declination,
Of that tempting offer,
"Pity, we could've split the fee",
He suggested John for the next time.
Isn't Mr. Holmes quite irksome,
Calling John from the other end of London,
Just to send a text?
No, this was not an ordinary text,
An SMS was just sent,
By Mr. Watson's phone,
To the murderer.
The murderer?
But why?!
Elementary for SH.
Found the case within an hour,
Which was now in front him.
His mind, is truly above par!
One thing missing from the suitcase:
Her organizer, her phone.
"Nah, she's is a clever woman,
A serial adulterer,
Would never leave her phone at hotel",
This Holmes said, backed by balance of probability.
They waited at a restaurant,
And the wait was long,
But worth it.
Had to chase a taxi,
which was done successfully,
Thanks to Sherlock's excellent memory.
Hence proved it was,
The psychosomatic limb of Doctor.
A drugs bust had occurred at their place,
Seriously, this man, a deduction ****** would have drugs?
"I'm not a psychopath Anderson,
I'm a high functioning sociopath,
Do your research!"
Snapped Mr. Punchline.
Just a couple of minutes later,
This brilliant sleuth realized-
"Rachel! Yes, Rachel!
This woman in pink, Jennifer,
Is clever,
And she's dead!",
much to Mr. Holmes's displeasure.
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 12:24 PM UTC
yes I do have insurance.
actually, it lapsed last Tuesday
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 12:36 PM UTC
salle de concert,
salle des corps transpirants & glissants
salle de semi à poil
comment tu t’appelles ?
champ de Mars,
champ des conneries & des concessions
champ de refus
tu m’avais manqué
coin de la rue,
coin de sms à la con
coin d’attente
ne m’appelle plus jamais
taxi de Paris
taxi de vulgarité
taxi de fatigue
je vous vire à cause de ces mots
taxi de St. Germain
taxi de Charonne
vous êtes lesbiennes?
taxi du vieux pervert
embrasse-moi juste une fois
nuit de jeudi
nuit de j’ai trop bu
nuit quotidienne
j’attends demain
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 3:36 AM UTC
I miss the 'waiting' you used to make me do.
It used to be my favorite thing to do.
Yes, especially when you were late, or so late I can even forget I did nothing but just wait for you.
I miss the times we were sending SMS's
when I waited, sending tens of messages before you can reply a one-liner.
I also miss those feelings I had when you don't answer your phone,
when I try to call you numerous times...and all i hear is the annoying ring
to let me know you are reachable but just not bothering..
the ones I ended up waiting until the entire day ended,
And had to wait again to hear your sweetest apology that have always worked.
It's crazy, but I loved that waiting until you come home.
When you used to tell me to wait for a few minutes, but ended up waiting for an hour more.
Weren't this the very thing I used to do too, when you were still asking me out?
I guess you turned the table, and how I didn't mind about that because I was already there,
Revolving around you.
Time wasn't precious spending them to wait for you for lunch, wait for you for dinner, even wait for you to know I was waiting.
But seeing you finally come, I remember the feeling of gladness waiting brings!
It's like the feeling you have when you experience a miracle when you don't even deserve it.
Yes, I miss being the one waiting for you,
and the times I felt that I was just the only one waiting for you.
Thought all those waiting I did, weren't a waste, but rather,
A training ground for my upcoming occupation..
So optimistic of me..
I've always thought they'd prepare me to face the biggest wait in the history of loving you.
The wait that you'd finally choose me.
But you Didn't.
The funny thing is, there's Still a strong drive inside of me now that pushes me to wait even more...
Wait to prove my doubt right or wrong.
How long would that be then? I don't know.
This whole 'loving you' thing is so powerful it could steal my time.
It doesn't seem to see that time flies.
It doesn't seem to feel the overtime and no alarm sound would seem to wake it up.
so it moves on...
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 3:24 AM UTC
The working day is blue shirts and lies,
twelve last cigarettes, the balancing
of SMS from the powerful women who
know me. What are your plans later?
What are my plans? In the evening,
a globe I constructed from puzzle
pieces sits in my beggar's hands.
One day, they will be large enough
to cage it, but not yet. It's not time.
There is a cave-in exactly where I
next want to go. It's okay.
What are my plans? The rest of it.
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 2:36 PM UTC
Charles ate a Rocky Mountain
oyster shell from the spleuchen
of a bee resting on a bed plate,
but then fell asleep.
Glandular curvulas search for
the meaning of life;
to **** and be ****** by the nerve centre.
Clooties of the Yellowstone national park
make regretful decisions, that lead to excessive
crying, and dry/wet heaving for
MTV'S SPRING BREAK BLAST:
The ending is on pp.22 featuring beam rays
telltale sign of stirless beaches and nights irritating
my irritatory sun causing me
to
fumble
from the letter shape of my family tree.
Quintessentially, but not really, reptilians smiled
to eat sour investment of telltale
signs of testicular cancer,
while sending SMS messages to
acquaintances blabbering
"Come over and watch a movie ;)"
and gloating of recently acquired masseuse skills.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 3:27 AM UTC
K, so here’s the deal,
English will change,
Goi!
Gr8 eh?
Lol.
B4u know it, all changed.
Fyi some call it Textese or SMS Language.
But through will become thru
And though of course tho
Anyway.
Goi.
K so this poem might not trend,
But I’m way ahead of my time,
That’s my Msg.
N2u tho that may b.
That things must change,
That is.
8 it don’t u?
Such g9.
Scary Tbh.
4 me and 4u.
(Bm&y;).
(I prefer you as yu it's tru).
Just Gfi is wot I say.
Even when Prw!
Somy?
Sotmg.
Soz
Laters – Sbtsbc.
Ttfn and bfn.
Say.
Sit my friend.
Paul Butters
© PB 13\8\2015.
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC
We walk
In glow of silver screen,
We talk
In acronyms and SMS slang,
The star
Of an everyday movie
Camera man, script writer, director
Floating in the ether
Weaving our tapestries,
Between radio masts
Life on earth, live on earth
Spaceman, time traveller
On a voyage of discovery,
Walking and talking to ourselves
Without noticing the outside world,
Only interested in our own
Biographies;
Time for another selfie…………….
Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 5:57 AM UTC
sext : *let me write a poem
on the insides of your thighs..
with my tongue*
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 12:54 AM UTC
It will be by TXT
That you will impart your worst,
At a safe distance,
Not from fear of violence -
Guilt is lighter without eyes
May 15, 2010
May 15, 2010 at 2:11 PM UTC
Someone is coming slowly on the coolest foot
The sound of footprint is clear on the path
Someone who loves forever is coming
And a demonstration is marching on …
From the other side of the hill coming
Crossing all the walls coming
Endless pink love coming
Symphony dancing with moon coming …
I'm waiting for a full-length love
A warm and exciting yellowish pink embrace
A cool and calm bluish green kiss
I got a chilly sms - someone is coming!
Poem 08
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 16, 2012
Aug 16, 2012 at 1:59 AM UTC
For every gaze,
old wounds open once again.
For every unanswered SMS,
scars freshen up like new from yesterday.
For every unintentional graze of
your fingers,
the old wounds heal themselves.
For every shared laughter on and offline,
scars from yesterday springs back
to years ago.
Jul 17, 2019
Jul 17, 2019 at 5:13 AM UTC
A rumble of laughter not from an LOL in an SMS
but a sound from a breathless child
running in a field
not scrolling through a feed
two friends sharing secrets
in a hide out only known by two
not hiding behind a barricade
clear yet mystifies the truth
I see you smiling in front of me
As you share old stories
And dreams of what’s to come
I don’t face a pixelated picture
As I try to communicate
Face to face?
Or face to screen
Or share winky faces
As you tease me
while sitting in a room two doors down
What happened to the times when
We were connected by the strokes of the words on paper
Or the moments captured by film
And not destroyed by a single glitch of a cellular phone
There’s a ring to my name as you call
A melody in your voice
But now
since when have IM ever been better than calling a name
with your voice
we know people more by the click of a finger
than a stroke of a hand
and from 140 words
in an app
expected to chirp our secrets like songs of birds
sung to everyone
We see connection
As the strength of the wifi at the corner of our screens
Dreams are shared with every retweet and reblog
Shared to strangers
Who care about you?
Or care about the amount of followers or likes you get
Of a picture you do not own
Of an experience you have never done
Or maybe yet to do
life is not as beautiful through a screen
it is not about those minutes you spend
clicking that play button
you cannot fast forward or rewind the wasted time
sitting and waiting
as the video loads
just so
YOU
Can live their life
I sit in front of a camp fire
Hearing laughters from every side
Smiles brightening in the dark
What happened to these nights out?
the fun nights where the stars and moon were the only light source
and not the screen of the 3G phone
or when beauty was only experienced and not captured
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 7:48 PM UTC
There is no one here. No replies either. To random sms that are unfair.
I don't want your time. I just want to be able to breathe.
And that's easier with distraction.
Silence, actually. Or Haines. Or Hauswollf. Or silence.
But I can't breathe.
Can you remember when you lay on top of me.
Naked.
With your whole body weight. Skin on skin.
I could breathe under your weight.
You were my air.
Pathetic **** Disgusts me. I resent myself. But I can't breathe.
And yet I'm too cowardly, or the question of why this far and no further,
when I want to cut off my air for good.
It's all there. Simply because it brings a little peace.
Control.
I can. I can. If I really can't anymore. Or want to.
It bores me.
Everything's on the right track now, isn't it?
But you're not coming to see me.
A friend said I shouldn't put it like that.
So that I wish you would visit me again.
I meant the dreams in which you were there.
You told me that we had to find your belt.
What belt?
I replied
that you were a pile of ashes. You didn't care.
But now, after three years,
**** again,
three years,
look, I live around the corner from you now.
For three long years I have avoided this area.
Took the longest detours, counted the shadows.
there were always 114.
i don't want to see your window.
And now
I live here.
In your area. The area that so often seemed unreachably far away when we wanted to see each other.
And we always wanted to see each other.
Sitting in the back seat of a car, I drive past.
And stare into your window.
drive past, sitting on the hard wooden bench in the streetcar.
And stare into your window.
In the unbearably loud subway, I pass by, twisting my head, standing on my toes, twisting my whole body.
So that I can stare into your window.
have stopped counting them. the 114 shadows.
And can't breathe.
He's outside. What should I say?
Why am I even talking to him? 40 euros.
You died for 40 euros.
That's what I say. Yeah yeah yeah... free will, not your fault, grown up... yeah yeah yeah I UNDERSTOOD.
Doesn't change my guilt.
There! Now! I remembered that you weren't just in my dreams.
And now I demand from this world that you look at my balcony.
I “want” nothing.
No needs
except rest.
And Haine…or... Hauswolff.
And now is the point where I no longer find it fair.
Not in a dream.
Sit next to me.
Put your entire weight on my naked body.
Let your sweat drip from the tip of your nose into my mouth and let me taste the salt.
Not in a ******* dream.
Come here now.
Please.
I know..
I can't come to you. You are no more.
I don't know... I still want to be.
I think so.
It's finished.
The spiritual **** disgusts me, your talk disgusts me, I disgust myself
And probably the only reason I haven't hanged myself yet is because I think, I've lasted this long.
Aug 11, 2024
Aug 11, 2024 at 5:15 PM UTC
Just a thought of it and I lose my cheer
I missed you a lot in the preceding year
I can’t blame you; it’s not your fault
Our not seeing each other happened by default!
It so happened we missed each other’s face
Encounters were replaced by texts of sms
Words were few, though sometimes we called
Technologies conspired; our meetings got stalled!
Years rolling by, times so fast fly
Relations are stuck at ‘hello’ n ‘hi’
Wiser we are growing, a smarter human race
We have little time to see each other’s face!
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 7:10 AM UTC
The origin of the device is in alphabetical order; At the right time, he wrote that he was killed in the house and why he did not know what to do. There is hope in the hope of children who lead the lives of children who open the path of respect; The source of evidence is yellow, the joy of the flesh, the cold of dogs, the winner who is weak for Robert and the cost of the big area, the dog is in front, the air is to love. Trees to see the tree for Mark show that Italy is a safe estate manager in this area and his call has ended because asylum Eve is the main military power. With the calculation, they change their lives and their daily lives in the EU and EU Union. This plant was established in the first century and in Italian. On horseback mother, elderly (582) 262 (200-9 Robert Siodmak, a German film director who also worked in the United States. He is best remembered as a thriller specialist and for a series of stylish, unpretentious Hollywood Film Noirs in the 1940s, most notably The Killers. wheat, South and disabled people). I love animals 1 Mehmanang Xandidam, "It is not long, because the brain is helping females, two women and the enemy ... After death, the Italians ... accept rules and milk 1. Hospital Paul: ancient In the era, millions of women, women and festivals around the world have changed Google, green, blue, black, white, mother, the best time of the car is 40 Rotten country suspects and Italy, France, Germany, Italy and ancient Italian law. It may be simple, five in the side, no, there is no other Google SMS available in Italia 1 Italia in Italia Italia Italia: Italia says: There are five computer tools that require new faces and blue glass and have sun, Salt, description, Sindhi and are for 40 years, they are known as 1 year from the age of 40. Five years for blue and new jobs, Robert, Robert says, "Italy six For the European Union and mosquitoes have long been two ... "Italy, Italy black, Europe to worry about two councils (usually) 58 first Italian Cicron year, adult and adult (582) 262 (200 The books are billions of girls, girls around the world are now a mistake. Google took black, black, black, took 40 years, and his mother was a favorite artist, but for five years Gutenberg was in the process. Johannes Gensflisch Zur Laden Zoom Gutenberg was a German blacksmith, gold, printer and publisher who started printing to Europe. Sindhi meetings are gathered by beans, new rooms or two green and fifth velocity of xandidam for two hours and 40 hours to stay with the old products of Spain, Italy, Greece and Italy, and the old products of Guo and Gale Solxardo. Macaw Fighter is as beautiful as blue eyes and allows two virus-exploding gifts.
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC