"splitter" poems
**** me
just **** me
I want you inside me
Oh how I've wanted you
dreamed of you
our bodies intwined
breathing heavy
You don't have to take it
easy on me
I can handle it
Put your hands on me hold me down and choke me
just choke me
oh please be rough with me
I wont fight you
I'll let you right in
Kiss me
just kiss me
flick your tongue against mine
kiss me all the way
down my body
oh how I long for you to touch me just touch me
touch me there
make me shake
and beg for you to stop
torture me with your fingers
get me all excited
And wanting
raise my hips to meet yours
and smile at me
that smile that makes me weak
And flustered at the same time
that one that leaves me wondering
I don't know
what you're going to do
to me
but it doesn't matter
just do it
I want you
to do it all to me
claim me
Just claim me
in every single way
release yourself on me
I can take it
I want it
give it to me
please give it to me
show me how much you want me
just want me
need me
love me
push me to my limit
take me over the edge
make me scream your name
press into me
sO hard
I can't breathe
oh how i long to feel you
feel me
Just feel me
close your eyes
and gasp on me
Lay on top of me
don't let me move
Take control of me
oh how I want to taste you
your sweat
your seed
gut me
just gut me
Cut me into pieces
splitter me
shred my innocence
open me up
And spread me apart
look at my insides
At how you make
my heart race
blood boil
organs tense
by the way
You **** me
just **** me
show me
how much you
love me
just love me
please just love me
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
she loved the rain
the splitter splatter sound
every drop makes
were music to her ears
she loved the thunder
the ferocity of its roar
gave her the strength
to hold on for awhile more
she loved the lightning
the beauty of each stroke
containing the lethal power to hurt and ****
yet remain in inexplicable beauty
in short she loved thunderstorms
a mixture of rain thunder and lightning
just like her inner conflict of thoughts
and emotional turmoil
she compared herself to thunderstorms
not that she was a beauty
but she believed that
it depicted the words she wanted to say
she loved them so much
she chose to die on the day
there was a thunderstorm outside
pouring out things she never said.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 9:06 AM UTC
The gleaming moonshine on your hair,
fragmented star splitters in your eye,
your smile repainting supernova's glare
appoint you the ruler of my sky.
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 5:26 AM UTC
Whilst walking down the street
I heard a thunderous tweet;
'Twas a straining little bird
Who couldn't pass a ****
The little thing was constipated,
Its **** wide dilated;
Tweeting loudly in mid-bog,
Trying to eject a log.
I observed with sympathetic heart
As it trumpeted out a ****
Straining, chirping loud and long,
Letting off a foul and noisome pong.
I watched for nigh an hour
Its display of **** power;
Then a final intestinal pump
Produced a huge great steaming lump:
A mighty ball of faeces
(a giant of its species,
and total bumhole splitter
which shattered its feathered *******
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC
what's this liquid falling from the sky
with its pitter-patter, pitter-patter?
to the drought of summer, it says "goodbye"
with its splitter-splatter, splitter-splatter!
look and watch as the world grows vibrant
as it pitter-patters, pitter-patters!
oh, thank you, dear clouds, for being our hydrant
as it splitter-splatters, splitter-splatters!
watch as the parched lives are finally quenched
by its pitter-patter, pitter-patter!
the once dry earth at last is drenched
by its splitter-splatter, splitter-splatter!
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 10:46 PM UTC
I was pulling up in the car park at the Immigration Removal Centre
When I realised that I'd completely f 'ed up
Having remembered:
- portable recording studio
- condensor microphones x 2 (one of them doesn't work, dunno which one, they look the same)
- dynamic microphone (sometimes works)
- XLR cables x 2 (in a tangled mess)
- Jack cables x 2 (joining the party)
- headphones
- headphone splitter (a remedy for people who are always on their phone?!)
- big-to-little adapters
- kettle lead (so named because it dates back from when the kettle was king)
- guitar
- and two folders of important bits of paper (well, at least some of it might be important)
I suddenly realised that I'd forgotten the only genuinely essential thing.
My passport.
You can't get in without your passport.
That's the rule and the rules don't bend.
Security is paramount.
I find my colleague, Lucky, sitting in his car.
Lucky: "Kev, you aren't gonna believe this but..."
He didn't need to say anymore.
I knew that he had done the same thing.
Lucky and I were in the same *** of s***.
But for some reason they made an exception.
We were lucky.
It must had rubbed off.
(true story)
Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 1:53 PM UTC
rain finally falls,
pitter-patter,
the heavens burst,
splitter-splatter,
it pours,
drip-drop
down,
noisily,
making itself known,
and thunder growls,
to tell me,
'I'm here!'.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
The atom he wanted to split
But didn't quite manage it
So he changed his tack
And instead of that
Wrote a limerick
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 3:28 PM UTC
Where would you go,
Stopping I am not,
Go if you want to go,
Remembering me you are not,
As I'm not interested,
Wishing you quicker recovery,
Wherever you'll fall,
Caring I am not,
Just go if you wanna go.
Because lonelier you left me here,
You better need not to come ever,
I have earlier survived alone as well,
You weren't here near my deathlike bed,
There had been both of my parents,
Only expecting me as a robot in return,
And I found you absent when I needed,
Oh this is only the revelation of my life,
Such a fool I expected you to be my wife.
Now I can imagine what I was spared from,
I was spared from the splitter-splatter stuff,
And of course the kitchen's blitter-blatter bluff,
Because I am sure that I can prepare better food,
Much better than your fickle-minded self could,
Lovelier is my hand's company to my big head,
I imagine stuff and fantasize howsoever it feels fit,
And of course, I don't need your help for that,
I just go fap-fap, splitter-splatter & blitter-blatter.
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 5:34 AM UTC
Even as a ******* symbol
the Shard looks worn
like a prison grandee
without a stipend to
command protection
Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 2:15 PM UTC
I can't stop this
Jittering of the wrists,
Maniacal half-splat
Splutterings of the gist.
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
Up and down again,
1 and, 2 and, 3 and
Works 'til measure ten.
I cut down time,
And do it once more;
1 and, 2 and, now chime,
Notes shatter on floor.
I splitter,
I splutter,
While Mister
Just mutters
My horrible,
Dreadful mistakes;
One more take,
So try it again.
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
Jee jee, eff eff, eeh,
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
See see, eff sharp, bee.
Ay, bee, ay-
F SHARP
SCREAMS THE OFT WRONG HARP
OF JITTERING FINGERS
AND PIANO FARTS ENRAGED
WHILE MOVING UP AND DOWN
WHITE AND BLACK KEYS
FURIOUSLY ENGAGED.
BUT CUT THE TIME
AND DO IT AGAIN.
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
Keep thumb under hand,
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
Though left hand's undermanned.
"More fingers, more,"
It sputters into the night,
While sore fingers, sore,
Start a whole new blight.
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
Now 4 and
Rest.
Everything is winding down,
Flushing away into soft,
Pianissimo serenades
Of sweet, sweet See-
BUT BEE FLAT
MAKES SEE RATS
EAT THEIR MOLDY FLESH,
BECAUSE BEE FLAT
TO SEE RAT
MAKES EVENING NOT SO FRESH.
Piano farts,
Just do it again.
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
Now 4 and
Rest;
Second time through
Makes it the best.
May 22, 2010
May 22, 2010 at 3:00 PM UTC
Splitter splatter, pitter patter, rain dance my cares away
Pitter patter, splitter splatter, on this cold and lonely day
Doing your tap dancing on the crisp Fall leaves
In your rhythm all my worries are relieved
Slapping out the tune on the old evergreen
The most beautiful sound I have ever seen
Splitter splatter, beating on my windowpane
Trying to break my heavy mental chain
Pitter patter, rapidly tapping on the glass
Trying to warn me, of shadows yet to be cast
©Pauline Russell
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 11:32 AM UTC
Traumedy,
The Black man's new mode of coping.
It sounds like stand up but it looks like gasping, clawing, or fighting.
I have friend whose fighting handicapped just to be understood, his opponent is a fusion of normality and vulnerability they are just heads on the monster of toxic masculinity.
My friend reaches for help but vulnerable responds that's a hand shake.
My friend makes jokes about death but normal said morbid humor is the new black.
My friend cries for help but traumedy translated that as a knock knock joke and what he gets in return is LMAOs.
When my friend steps outside he gives life to the world while on the inside he's increasingly contemplating about giving his life back to the world.
He thinks his life is nothing but a punchline waiting for a flatline.
He's in pain but he never directly says it.
What he say is: what do you call a hilarious pun about suicide? A real wrist splitter
What he say is: what do this party and my brother have in common? they're both dead
I want to go and hug him and tell him it's ok grieve, I want to tell him that I hear him.
It's normal not to be ok but sometimes toxic masculinity is so strong that it strings my mouth closed, rendering me useless, like a voodoo doll.
But here's an open letter to the traumedian in him,
dear tramua it doesn't take search light to find the star he's bound to be, his personality stands out like a figure in the spotlight no matter how much darkness he's surrounded by like country skies.
I can clearly see the stars in him like a country sky.
He can be the next Robin Williams when he was the genie guy.
But Every time he stands up and do a stand up his traumedy constantly foreshadow his curtain call before he can get his big break.
To my friend who See's life only as a light polluted sky at night,
your life has more to offer than a end of a joke or a flatline.
Nov 5, 2019
Nov 5, 2019 at 12:52 PM UTC
Springing forth endlessly
Are the many sparks
Of My Sensational Impulses
In billion droplets
Splitter in drains
Countless as grains
So high as the rains
Un-Washable as stubborn stains
Day and Night
Wild exciting pains
Pump out a continuous
Sprayed supply jetted
Through the Ornamental
Structural source of my
Innumerable emotional feelings
Rooted in boundless
Ocean of passion
A River of emotion
You forever are the
Fountain of my Love
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 11:57 AM UTC
Rainbow droplets
pitter patter
Paint splashes
splitter splatter
You'r canvas
a doorway
to the subconscious
Seem like some
must box or list
your's was
abstract expressionist.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 1:45 PM UTC
Everywhere we went,
we rode shotgun,
carried one too.
We were home wreckers,
housebreakers,
misfits riding on the edge.
We came with sledgehammers,
battering rams, metal-knuckles,
some disappeared for interrogation.
You should have seen the head splitter,
he went back to the world,
they turned him loose again
into the general population.
Bright-eyed bushy-tailed bucks,
we forged into no man's land,
miles & miles of golden desert sand
was the mainstay of that virtual wasteland.
A traditional-home of the kingdoms,
warlords counting their money,
that **** wasn't funny.
I never laugh at horror stories
or disbelieve fairy tales,
they might be real.
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
careful, you might trip!
the roads are rocky and a little mean,
though for this clumsy ball of sunshine,
tripping is nothing but a routine.
your peers tap on shoulders to call;
"little baby, go outside and play,"
mom will plant kisses on your forehead
and tell you to be careful on your way.
puddles after showers; splitter splatter!
wipe your legs clean under blue roof;
tall people and words that taste foreign,
the tip to hold another hand home is a little goof.
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 10:19 AM UTC
I shred you as cedar
to eat your smell—
a crick of words to ultra face-off
between bone-splitter and bliss
I
am your writer
and my heart’s cavalry
pounds your lips
with sweetness
the
submission of sugar
the
taste of honey
the
number of times
I’ve
had you in comb
buzzing your fuzz-ectomy
into a new mind of flower
to be pollinated
with the lilac breeze
of my going
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC
I started with a tree,
Brought the chainsaw
And felled it.
I trimmed off the branches,
Stripped the bark
To the underskin
And let the sap drip.
I used the log-splitter
To make the trunk
Into workable pieces.
I chose a log,
Used my wood-splitting axe
To divide into four.
I whittled down,
Pared away
All the insignificants
Until I sat with a twig,
One word,
You.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 9:11 AM UTC
det er vel noget man skal,
drikke altså
noget vi skal,
for at få det bedre,
for at glemme livet,
for at blive glade
men ligenu,
kan jeg ikke tænke på andet end smerten ved hud der splitter,
og at gemme mig for verden
men det er vel noget man skal,
dulme de tanker,
med smagen af sprit der langsomt løber ned i halsen,
og renser kroppen for grimme tanker
åben svælget,
og slug
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
It's navy-night streaked with dusty stars and cold sand creeping into places I'd much rather be. It's arms streaked with bits of you as entity glows in fickle-firewood-flare and your hands eversearching and my hands eversearching for all that is you in abundance. It's the milkyway in your blue eyes and the ocean in your smile. Every small beauty you notice. How every strand of freedom on your luscious head tells a story of the truthfulness one finds in people when they don't notice. It's your voice - and imagine strings - goosing up my skin. It's darker and it's glowing and it's further and we don't really need the half-light so we wet our feet but it should be colder but it isn't. It's almost there and actually there and you're lovely here. It's falling asleep at nine-eleven-two-four, waking up in between and having you to fill. It's the last draw of lips and your condensation on my neck. How you should be wrapped tighter-untilthegapsareallgone. How I'd trace every dip and rise, the lines that make the muse and kiss
Until exhaustion closes.
Your chestful echoes deeper
Your butterfleyes fluttering closed
It's feeling you
Splitter-splatter-splutter
Your story onto this stained canvas and making it worth a glance or fourteen;
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 5:28 PM UTC
The earth stood still on the day you came into the world.
Adorned in a strawberry crown of silken strands, you delighted all who gazed upon you.
My heart swelled with joy and pride.
You grew, and my heart compressed under your rising weight.
Your footsteps, pitter patter.
My heart, splitter splatter.
Trodden and worn, my heart beats slowly.
All grown up, you dance across my heart with high heeled soles.
Punctured and broken, I cry.
Baby, slow down.
You're killing me.
1/3/2016
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 10:56 PM UTC