"spitted" poems
Describe fires in riverbottom
sand, and the cooking;
the cooking of hot dogs
spitted in whittled sticks
over flames of woodfire
with grease dropping in smoke
to brown and blacken
the salty hotdogs,
and the wine,
and the work on the railroad.
$275,000,000,000.00 in debt
says the Government
Two hundred and seventy five billion
dollars in debt
Like Unending
Heaven
And Unnumbered Sentient Beings
Who will be admitted -
Not-Numberable -
To the new Pair of Shoes
Of White Guru Fleece
O j o !
The Purple Paradise
5.8k
*How do you get over a broken heart?
I don't know anymore...
What else can I do?...
I've gotten me a new hobby
I've tried to decive myself to believe
That he's not the one
Whom I love...
I've tried to listening to music
Music always help,
But this time
I really can't pick myself
up...
Music doesn't make me happy
I have no appetite
I don't feel like sleeping
I would pefer to die
If I died I'm pretty sure
That everyone would be much happier
Mostly I..
I wouldn't be crying the whole time
I can almost fill buckets
I wouldn't have to eat
There's no taste at all
I wouldn't have to try to sleep
There's only nightmares, no dreams
I wouldn't have to hate myself
For only bringing trouble
To friends and family...
So as you can see
Everyone would be so much happier without me
Specially I would be...
So I'll ask again
How do you mend a broken heart?
When your closest friends are out the country
And you're just sitting in your room
With your curtains pulled down
Just starring at the lyrics
Which you've written on your wall...
Silence is the enemy...
Don't wanna fall in love...
It amazes me this will of instincts...
Shot through the heart...
Another one bites the dust...
Chaos rules the inner hell...
Diffrent lyrics
Different songs
Different artists
But not a single one
Can cheer me up again
Singing always help
In the shower or when I'm stressed,
But right now
I don't even want to talk...
I'm a gamer
But neither this
I want to do
My guitar gently weeps
More gentle
Than I do
It's sad since I haven't been
playing for a while...
I should be making dinner
And this poem have to end
But before I leave
I'll ask again
How do you mend a broken heart?
'Cause I've never felt this dead
And I've survived worse
Afterall, I had classmates
In elementary
Who tried to push me
Out the window
From 1st floor...
I've been beaten and spitted on,
But neither that have hurt this much
So please tell me
How do I mend my broken heart?...*
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 2:48 PM UTC
I am a happy person. I’m full of love and happiness. I welcome mornings with a smile and will to be alive. But that time came, the time when it’s so hard to get up in the morning. The time when it’s so hard to eat; to talk; and even to breathe. The time when I thought giving up is the only solution to all of this. The time when sadness, anger, confusion, and hopelessness ate me alive.
I personally didn’t think I can make it, but you did.
For the friend who stood by me when I can’t even stand on my own; who stood by me through the disaster; who never left me; who never let go of my hand, telling me that everything will be okay and this disaster will fade and will turn into rainbows and ponies.
For the friend who never judged me because of who I am and what I am going through; who accepted my flaws; who helped me embrace my own; who endured the times when my heart and mind ached, grieved, and tortured, and believed in me, that I can be healed and recovered.
For the friend who, when everything was falling apart for me, gave me hope; who gave me a place to live and air to breathe; who gave me the strength and will to live; who gave me faith that this world wasn’t a source of vexation and pain and everything will begin to change.
For the friend who never stopped telling me that this will all end - that it will take a while but it will all be worth it; who never gets tired of picking up the broken pieces of myself; who never gets so sick of joining me to sit in the dark and go through my paranoid mind; who never gave up on me, pushing me to make it through the storm eating me alive.
You made me smile when I thought I couldn’t.
You embraced me with love and care.
You spitted out words that made me strong.
You made me believe that I can make it.
You waited for me to heal.
You saw me at my worst yet you never stopped.
You never left.
Thank you.
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 11:12 AM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, need a sign---for my feels to shine:>
universe of ours to the seven of the heavens of the gods of the universe
I'm just hoping for a miracle immerse
I'm just waiting for a sign
to utter a feel to the unspeakable feels in the eyes spitted crime
universe tell me if it's a message you ought to send to reveal
because my attachment knows no surface when it comes to the deep
universe tell me if it's the angels that I think I see
because my paths are carved on the stance of this willing be
universe tell me if it's the right I sense if it's the mild anticipated hence
because if it is-the moons that I felt the future that I begged
then my dreams would surf to the boundless wilds of the ends
------ravenfeels
May 27, 2021
May 27, 2021 at 3:27 PM UTC
it was that i was. gurgling a valorous *** of cells at the bottom
of the notched brick habitat of sickly algebra. and i and. with all
the dirt meticulously skeletal. trenchant chaotic lips blathering
skinny vocal animals. the smooth monkeys pinstripe about the
square in my needle city. well and i am an we. with your habitual
pocket of blood and dust in correct lumps small and large proportionately
spitted on your ideal, at my hips your hips(hand in hand). we walk
bythe specific straights towering sky breakers hollering reflective
skin. the neon electric residue of light smacks my eyelets. and
some ****** **** with the night air agreeably. but i,m a yours
and only. yes. so let's make some drips of clear tremulous benedictions
to this vibrant lovely hell
Oct 6, 2010
Oct 6, 2010 at 12:07 PM UTC
I wished for rain
And soothing words of sweet
But you struck me with pain
In this intolerable heat
On the ground, I lay
In shock of what you just did
I hoped you came to stay
With me and our kid
Something was not right
I sensed the presence of an evil force
A drawn column of fright
And sudden objects began to toss
Darkness started to approach
As you became someone unknown
A lust to **** a soul roach
To which, I wish, I had known
A language full of filth and foul
You spitted on few standing around
You snorted and then came in the growl
And like a fierce beast, you sat on the ground
My lips trembled but my heart prayed
For help from anyone anyplace
Planks were soon being laid
Around it, to gape and gaze
The unknown tried to escape
But the planks were blessed with holy essence
Verses were read by a person in cape
Darkness eluded by its presence
The unknown seem to struggle in a purifying body
Stubborn, causing it physical harm
Witnessed by everybody
Soon everything became calm
He lay on the ground, with scratches and blood
Breathing heavily as the prayer ended
Rain poured in suddenly, washing away the blood
The evil seem to have descended
He was carried back to my place
For nourishment and care
The man in cape, blessed and left
Puff...in the thin air
©sim
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 1:27 AM UTC
the lean stammer of long balking ***
froths diligently on my lady's bones
and it plastics a largeness heading
southern sea to lake and fire perpendicular
unraveling senses. a mire of spitted
tongues or saliva all a laminating
her magic gaggle of crumbling...
***** and notch; twin ecstatic jumbled
notes in discorded unity of tentative
lips... mymy
mym
y
my my mymym
y
my yoke, my egg, my scorpion. ***** me quickly venom
i'll a sprung!
Dec 15, 2010
Dec 15, 2010 at 11:46 AM UTC
I burnt my tongue a week ago--
Too much of scalding coffee and lies [on your part],
But I swallowed it with a couple of anti-depressants
I have forgotten how creamy, toffee powdered mocha tastes like and your lips,
They used to taste like macchiato, as time passed by,
Maple leaves drizzled autumn, burst into slashing icy winter,
Your lips started tasting like black coffee, like tar, most of the days it’s only a figure of speech,
Warning sign blinking all day long in my head, when I can’t hold it in my fingers,
When it’s escaping out of my grasp, ready to run, making space for the sugary vanilla layer
But then there are days, when you find your way back underneath my sheets,
My duvet, the only witness, sadly silent all too similar to my will power screaming inside my head,
And here are you fictious sentences, framed with such precise,
Knocking down all the walls I tried to built, leading to defeat,
Holding me chained like a slave.
All my fury fueled sentences burn like fire, vengeful riff of an electric guitar within my mind,
When your fingers encircle me, rough nibs of your lips on the nape of neck, palm tracing lies on my tailbone
All the fire drowns in crafted lies, ashes of my dignity scattered, a bleak watered down-
Note of a single string as the soundtrack of my misery.
I burnt my tongue last night--
Too much of your blazing skin and lies but I spitted it all out,
This brittle heart not so brittle anymore heated at 1,300*c, on the kiln again and again-
To form an everlasting nature.
Arteries have clotted, hatred burning bright within, lungs suffocating starving for oxygen and blood,
Like the dragon breathes fire, I’ll breathe out the scathing curses; and leave with my dignity intact
Barely responding to all your shameless deeds.
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 11:40 AM UTC
You said my name,
so differently this time.
You spitted the three-word lie
I'm too naive to believe—
"I love you"
I sat in silence waiting
for your next line,
that I already knew
on the back of my mind
"But, I'm sorry"
I should be the one
who's feeling sorry—
acted like I can turn your frozen heart
into a golden one
You left me a question,
I'm searching for the answer;
If love will never be enough, then what will?
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 8:05 AM UTC
*
My mother was a beautiful, kind women;
who gave all her assets and belongings
to those starving people and to poor beggars;
but, the society threw stones at her face;
spitted and challenged to prove her chastity;
She was a ****** a ****** pure in her dignity.
*
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
[email protected]
www.williamsji.com
written on Friday, 8th March, 2013
INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 10:01 PM UTC
I'm scared of makeing mistakes.
Scared of trying
The big amount of time it takes,
To get back from depressing.
I don't even want to start,
To begin makeing better.
Everything is already black,
Why should it be matter?
It's so hard to see those,
Who share hugs with each other.
The life is closed,
For me with a horrible problems.
When I see her being,
All I can do is nothing.
As much as I'm trying,
I leave myself suffering.
Dreams just exploded,
Like all others did.
The Gods were bored,
They got rid... of me...
They spitted me out.
Out of everybodie's happiness room.
They've chosen me to go down.
I desserved this, I assume.
Falling through dark place.
There is no vissible end.
It's just useless chase,
Me and nothing - my best friend.
I thought there is no possibillity,
To over the endless night.
I realised that I have an ability,
To release myself and die...
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 5:06 AM UTC
There once was a girl pretty as can be and had a perfect family.
There once was a girl who was sweet her family in ruins never going to meet
At school she weep trying not to make a pep.
The pretty girl laughed along, Pointed and spitted, growled and snapped.
The pretty girl had a pretty long laugh.
The sweet girl all crumbled and ruined, begged and groveled for it to stop.
The sweet girl got hell she soon turned sour and ended up in different places.
White roses of forgiveness lay upon her grave as the sweet girl rotted away.
The pretty girl didn't know what to do but party and live her life like she was going to do.
They fill no regret and the sweet girl never got better.
No one spoke.
No one saw.
The sweet girl fall.
Her family back together to shed tears.
Someone stands up who they haven’t heard.
" I am the pretty girl" Said a voice “ I caused this girl to die and i sit here and sigh. I do not care I think it’s better without her plus she was ugly as can be and i glow of pretty. I am the one who needs the attention that's why i do such terrible things. The world should revolve around me."
The room fell silent as no one spoke.
A small little girl stood up. "I am the nerd. Smart as can be. I stand against you for everything you see. You tortured and hit you spat and you kicked but the guilt is still there. You killed a girl with only words. Don't you care?"
The rooms filled with rumors of such the brave girl.
Cant you see that all we need is someone like you Short, fat, skinny, tall, nerdy, freaky, different and all. to stand up.
to speak out.
Let no one stand out.
You could save someone just by a simple hello ask how there doing and let the friendship grow.
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 12:41 AM UTC
Collecting my tears in my cupped hands
Feeling the aches by the leashes of wips
Some of the bodies still sway as it hangs
Slaves are we, fetch gold till our skin rips
They call themselves the clean beings
Their skin flashed white while ours dark
They say we are ***** and our blood stinks
And stamp our backs with a hot rod to mark
I am a girl with so many broken dreams
Trapped in slavery with other unfortunate slaves
My mouth is sealed yet my soul desperately screams
I wonder why people of such, declare godly behaves
My mind is numb, my body is torn
I am used by many, as a nights babie doll
I wish I wasn't a female to be born
No one comes for my rescue, whenever I call
I am so done living like a house without a door
No knocks, no greets, just entered by goons
Each night I have to kiss the filthy floor
Beaten, ripped, spitted...no one hears my moans
Tonight I am passing out from this world for good
My life is worthless among these hungry lords
I am not gonna be another meal or fleshy food
My soul can no longer bear the wrath nor,
my body can afford...
©sim
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 7:26 AM UTC
It's growling at me
With its emotionless eyes
As my fears grow, it starts to see
It's growling with all its lies
Black as the devil's soul
Creating a never endless pain
A dead wicked ghoul
Stuck like an unremovable stain
It taunts and laughs wickedly
It spitted out, "You're weak just like your mother."
I spatter out bitterly
But it doesn't seem to bother
Bickering, bickering for who's right
The lies connected my fate
No longer do I see the light
I'm no longer in the zone, going mentally insane
"Let me out!," I shrieked
But it smiled and escaped
I'm no longer within the breach
I'm all caged.
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 4:00 AM UTC
Pt.1
In the clouds that hang aloft
Whose very presence
Is whimsical, soft
Virginity dented, blotted
In the bluest eye,
A hand of breeze ushers on and
Whispers “good-bye.”
The hands of time
Their blithe brushstrokes
On sandy bricks
Their faults provoke,
The brushstrokes, too, there, paint the sky,
Like skirts of red ‘round trunks they lie
Like leaf, like stone
Fall affords no cure for doubt
So like the golden dust, once leaves of green
Into the wind, both spitted out
Were spurned, their haughty wails of “why”
By the hand of breeze that ushers on
With calming whispers of “good-bye.”
Pt.2
There I am, from here I sit,
In cluster leaves on far tree tips.
The hand of breeze keeps me fast
In this fray, the winter’s blast,
Despite that I have braved the cold
The buds of Spring soon, too, unfold
For the young, the leaves will fall
And never will it had been
That it, or I, was there at all.
Pt.3
Wait for me at the garden’s edge
Among the hoods of waking life
Bound n’er so tightly
As a husband to a wife
Wait for me, and still so young
Indelible silence aft’ the ring that rung
I’ll wait for you in the lasting day
Departing me, that is my pledge
Here, alone, at the garden’s edge,
‘Till wilts the corridor
Of snow-capped hedge
And the hills have capped
The fair sun’s head.
Still sweet the air, in twilit vine,
Each rippen’d petal a fortunate sign
That she, oh, she,
Will dance with me at the garden’s edge
Where we both drink of the other’s wine.
Each day, a perfumed past,
That smell of the rose twine her hair
That left us both in the garden, bare,
The only shawl a blazing star.
Worry not, my garden rose,
The sun may die, but from one,
From us two,
Many flow’rs shall dot the sky
And under their lamps, the pallor hue
I’ll give the rose, gift to me, with many stars back to you.
Pt. 4
But soft! I hear
Amidst the cries that fall anon
From the blanket midnight sky
That you’re aloft and gone from me,
From the darkness, through the vines
And gone like the seconds of passing time
With haughty ******
The hands that twist
From night to night
Which, brazen, explode the starry high
The hands that usher, chant “change, but why?”
All that hisses from my lungs
Is one long solemn, final “good-bye.”
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
My clock heart is ticking fast
I inhaled pollen,
Breathed petals
My wooden skin's starting to rust
I ate rubber,
Spitted metals
Now my eyes are bleeding dust
I kissed fire,
Chewed its smoke
I don't how long I'd last
My bones shatter;
How would I dance?
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
My trembling,
pimpled little
yawp
on its way over
the rooftops,
Was blown by a whim,
bounced off
a gable
and fell into
the backyard
of a preacher
It was spitted,
and brushed
and cooked to a turn
Then served up
with coleslaw
to a chortling
crowd of
the brethren
after a sermon,
of course,
and hymns
and grace
and a chorus
of heartfelt
amens
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
Eye of the Mirror
I laid my obsessed head on the pillow:
Mind raced for the warmer stories;
And the slip of the thought gazed me;
To the diminishing call of histories.
I look up in the mirror in my birthday suit;
I glanced top down head to toe;
Bring back image to face again;
And I started to talk to that foe;
“it’s been 20 years that I saw you rarely;
You never spitted out a word of seldom;
And you never looked at me twice;
Which made me looking at you boredom;”
“If we ever talked mostly time and time;
I would have clearly known you’d be the one now;
You never called me by my instinct;
Now I feel you are a stranger somehow;”
“You saw me by the barber shop trimming;
Yet you didn’t see any differences on me;
I wanted to smile on the morning of 30th September;
But you never didn’t turn up to see it;”
“7 years back when I fell in love with love;
I asked you how you are feeling of it;
You dropped down your face completely;
And I never got that feeling till date:’
“Before I joined the part of college;
I asked you what should be the motto;
And what should be the force of livelihood;
You ran away from me to your ***** friends”
“Two years back I tried a girl to show you;
How much I have grown into your image;
But you shook your head as if I played;
In fact I just loved her time and now:”
“Why are silencing the words within you;
I have always told you my day and feelings and the fact;
Why can’t you hear my sole voices triggering inside;
I can see your changes all over your body:’
“It’s never too late for my foe to be tagged again as one:
I just wish you would start gambling with me;
With the all in, cashes out…check or whatever;
I just want to read your poker face you have always shown;
And be whatever we can grow up to be:’
And as I woke up by the laugh in my mind;
I wanted to check who I was talking in my head;
I undressed all my clothes and thoughts of day;
My bad….it were you…I never saw me:
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 6:10 PM UTC
So when I walk through that door
Will you greet me?
Smiles and spitted lies that will pass
I remember when you said that you would miss me
But now that I have grown up
I now know that there’s no fun
In going home to a mom
That talks nothing but ******** about me
She’s always telling me to grow up
Yet she is stuck in the same little ******* rut
That agitates the **** out of me
So which direction, ******* mother, should I go?
Tell me if you think that you know
This heart that beats inside of me
That tells me what I can and can’t be
Will not take instructions from the
Worst ******* mother I see
So now that I have figured where I’m going
Picking a direction and not knowing
Whether I’ll ever see you smiling at me
So I’ve left you with my brother
Left him with the mother
That I never really knew
But one day I know
That every day he’ll show
More intelligence and potential then me
So goodbye for the last time
Remember that I’ll be fine
Like I always have been
So if we meet again
I hope we can be friends
And I hope you’ll see the better side of me...
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 1:23 PM UTC
Paradoxes are insurmountable,
Hefty thieves rob the jewels,
Blinded by the ignorance.
The moon shines with a touch,
Of the charming musk lighted
By the fires in the greens and
Browns with the pale leaves.
The old rattles are made up,
Using the broken clay pieces
Which once adored my back wall
And clung onto it like coated nails.
Drip-drops are made by the streaks
With the vast colours in a queue ,
Facing the torments from the crows.
A fiery afternoon sets in a cool setting
And the glares have forcefully blinded me,
Drying up the rich worlds apart.
An old pipe is clogged with a spitted phrase
Blocking our views of the bonafide thoughts
But startling us to complete the puzzle.
The seats are full in the red-chaired theatre,
Enjoying the views of the painted cushions
And the cooked up company of friends…..
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 5:19 AM UTC
My smile is my dressing
coating the surface a creamy
red, spreading over a lettuce
bed. But it all pours from
a bottle. I’m a chopped onion,
protruding as the bunion on my
foot/hacked as a computer by
an adroit crook. The saddest
women smile as if their eyes
were cherries. But inside the rounded
glossy fruit lies a stone. And once all
the flesh is consumed the stone is spitted out
like stream from a whale’s spout.
Jul 6, 2021
Jul 6, 2021 at 7:32 AM UTC
We're us, when we're secluded.
You rode home with me,
so that I could have someone there for me
when I went to that stupid party.
It was my first one.
We got to my house,
and I showed you around,
because before, I had only been to yours.
Your cute, sweet home
with the garden in the back
that we nestled into
while kissing under the sun.
You moved into a different one last year, I guess.
I undressed in front of you,
to put comfier clothes on.
You averted your eyes as if
that night
three years ago
didn't happen.
The one where
we snuck upstairs
away from the birthday party,
and caressed each other
in the blue night.
I hurriedly put the rest of my clothes on
because maybe in that moment
I forgot too.
We headed into the kitchen
where we planned to bake a cake.
You did most of the work
and I watched you
in love all over again
with your concentrated face
as you took this cake
way too seriously,
as if it were one of your drawings.
I said I'd pour that batter right on top of you,
and you objected.
I said then we could save water
(I had planned to shower),
you said:
"are you asking me to take a shower with you?"
with that face that just kills me.
I stuttered, spitted,
"N-no! I just..."
"Because" you said, going back to whisking, "all you'd have to do is ask".
My face, my everything
was hot.
Breathy objections flew out of my mouth,
just nonsense.
"You'd get in trouble,"
you laughed.
"Yeah,"
I said.
We packed up and walked over to the location.
You did not hold my hand.
I did not expect you too.
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC
my first love didn't think of me as his first love.
he spitted and walked over my grave,
winning the game.
my first friend in high school didn't think of me as her first friend.
she told me to be happy,
yet got impatient when it was hard for me to breathe.
the boy who saved me didn't think of me as the girl who saved him.
he gave me a coat to put on when it rained,
but now he's trying to take it back.
i don't think of myself as the person i thought i was.
i used to have pride and a sense of belonging for my body and soul,
but i don't mind being shot right in the head now.
i think life didn't turn out the way i wanted it to.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
lately, whatever had come
was to be held in regard,
for they all came
with swords hidden like arms
and venomous words as sweet as the sky.
though i find it quite fun
to fool around
laissez-faire
where fantasy comes to the world
and infinity becomes,
Intimacy spitted by the universe ~
ephemeral feelings now rather ecstatic
of Fleeting Faces carry the same sound of solitude.
{ a galaxy to be told,
never whole }
but when it's over,
the colossal weight of whatever lies behind the door
recoats our hands, our teeth,
as names are forgotten, light is gone.
it wintrifies
and we
continue
- gently down the stream.
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 10:27 AM UTC