"stank" poems - Hello Poetry

"stank" poems

Eenie Meenie Miney Moe You're just another *** Never saying "no" & NOT **** fo' show Beyond ****** is where you go The nasty crust is what you are below A busted *** ratchet With a scandalous habit So bounce ***** with that **** Or you're going to get hit Peace out **** it You need to just quit Karma is what you're going to get Because ******* DONT FORGET You're not classy, just a slutty ***** With legs like a revolving door Open to anyone wanting to score But your ***** is stank & rotten to the core! With more than one new STD sore Just like I said before BOUNCE,BITCH no one wants MORE!

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Mar 2, 2015

Mar 2, 2015 at 12:32 AM UTC

Eenie Meenie Miney Moe You're just another *** Never saying "no" & NOT **** fo' show Beyond ****** is where you go The nasty crust is what you are below A busted *** ratchet With a scandalous habit So bounce ***** with that **** Or you're going to get hit Peace out **** it You need to just quit Karma is what you're going to get Because ******* DONT FORGET You're not classy, just a slutty ***** With legs like a revolving door Open to anyone wanting to score But your ***** is stank & rotten to the core! With more than one new STD sore Just like I said before BOUNCE,BITCH no one wants MORE!

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Our old uncle, Daedalus, he'd grin when he spoke to us His mouth was missing teeth and so his wisdom flowed out free He always smelled of cheap cigars alleyways and corner bars He'd tell us he had seen the world and this was his decree: "Don't fly too high, you little ***** You just might live to pay for it. The Sun is always hot, the ground gets harder every day." "But, Daedalus," we would complain, "You are old and we would fain see the sights you saw before we sleep beneath the clay." And dear old Uncle Daedalus he'd laugh and spit and swear at us "You ******* little ***** had better heed the tale I tell. This life is one big ******* maze with twists and turns and tricks to play. The kings control the monsters, who make Earth a living Hell." We'd try to listen, try to thank him for the words, but his breath stank and, anyway, we thought that he had prob'ly **** himself But dear old Uncle Daedalus hung Death from lips that spoke to us and ****** if he weren't right about the things he always said: "Inventiveness works, by and by with daring, you may taunt the sky like I did but the fall is long-- my dreams and son are dead." He always smelled of cheap cigars alleyways and corner bars "You ******* little ***** had better heed the tale I tell..." "Don't fly too high, you little ***** You just might live to pay for it. The kings control the monsters, who make Earth a living Hell."

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May 16, 2014

May 16, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC

Dear Old Uncle Daedalus

Our old uncle, Daedalus, he'd grin when he spoke to us His mouth was missing teeth and so his wisdom flowed out free He always smelled of cheap cigars alleyways and corner bars He'd tell us he had seen the world and this was his decree: "Don't fly too high, you little ***** You just might live to pay for it. The Sun is always hot, the ground gets harder every day." "But, Daedalus," we would complain, "You are old and we would fain see the sights you saw before we sleep beneath the clay." And dear old Uncle Daedalus he'd laugh and spit and swear at us "You ******* little ***** had better heed the tale I tell. This life is one big ******* maze with twists and turns and tricks to play. The kings control the monsters, who make Earth a living Hell." We'd try to listen, try to thank him for the words, but his breath stank and, anyway, we thought that he had prob'ly **** himself But dear old Uncle Daedalus hung Death from lips that spoke to us and ****** if he weren't right about the things he always said: "Inventiveness works, by and by with daring, you may taunt the sky like I did but the fall is long-- my dreams and son are dead." He always smelled of cheap cigars alleyways and corner bars "You ******* little ***** had better heed the tale I tell..." "Don't fly too high, you little ***** You just might live to pay for it. The kings control the monsters, who make Earth a living Hell."

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Limbs littered the earth, her negligee no longer lay in his soldier’s world; he would do anything to smell her perfume once more. What day was it? Ahhh…Monday, the perfect first date, a moon- lit walk on a beach. He felt like a train about to crash and nobody was dancing. She felt alien alone in their home. Dancing was impossible and she stared at the photo, a soldier’s face, not his own. Limbo was a train journey that never ended. Billboards advertising perfume and the never ending sun, the never ending moon. The name of the days changed but Monday was no different from Tuesday or last Monday. She wondered if disabled people thought dancing ridiculous. He could return disabled…the moon was full tonight, she wondered if he in his soldier’s uniform would be admiring it remembering her perfume and not side stepping dead bodies feeling like a train wreck. How many poor driver’s of trains were haunted by suicides, faces looming out, the Monday blues? And some women will never afford perfume and would never be taken out dancing, it did not console her. She was one of thousands of soldier’s wives all gazing wistfully at the unhelpful moon. She dreams of werewolves howling at the moon, of him passing through a dark forest on a train coming back to her, having thrown his soldier’s gun, stamped in the mud, rejected. But she was the gun, Monday and no letter had come and her nerves were dancing, she knocked over her most expensive bottle of perfume. He was dead, she would never replace the perfume. She would smash bottles sticking her tongue out at the moon throwing herself around in life, dancing like a boat in a storm, occasionally consider suicide by train but she would never do it. Saturday, Sunday, Monday all days trooped past like the heavy march of a soldier. The word soldier stank of cheap perfume and everything was mundane especially the moon. People hurry her by like late trains, only a few whirl past dancing.

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Jun 12, 2010

Jun 12, 2010 at 4:10 PM UTC

Limbs littered the earth, her negligee no longer lay in his soldier’s world; he would do anything to smell her perfume once more. What day was it? Ahhh…Monday, the perfect first date, a moon- lit walk on a beach. He felt like a train about to crash and nobody was dancing. She felt alien alone in their home. Dancing was impossible and she stared at the photo, a soldier’s face, not his own. Limbo was a train journey that never ended. Billboards advertising perfume and the never ending sun, the never ending moon. The name of the days changed but Monday was no different from Tuesday or last Monday. She wondered if disabled people thought dancing ridiculous. He could return disabled…the moon was full tonight, she wondered if he in his soldier’s uniform would be admiring it remembering her perfume and not side stepping dead bodies feeling like a train wreck. How many poor driver’s of trains were haunted by suicides, faces looming out, the Monday blues? And some women will never afford perfume and would never be taken out dancing, it did not console her. She was one of thousands of soldier’s wives all gazing wistfully at the unhelpful moon. She dreams of werewolves howling at the moon, of him passing through a dark forest on a train coming back to her, having thrown his soldier’s gun, stamped in the mud, rejected. But she was the gun, Monday and no letter had come and her nerves were dancing, she knocked over her most expensive bottle of perfume. He was dead, she would never replace the perfume. She would smash bottles sticking her tongue out at the moon throwing herself around in life, dancing like a boat in a storm, occasionally consider suicide by train but she would never do it. Saturday, Sunday, Monday all days trooped past like the heavy march of a soldier. The word soldier stank of cheap perfume and everything was mundane especially the moon. People hurry her by like late trains, only a few whirl past dancing.

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In this life you will find Degradation unavoidable For it is in the weather of our life Degradation is like radioactive waste We pass like presents to each other The rain on a wedding day As I did once live In the shadows of dread As degradation breathed on me And I fell into the pits of self doubt And stank of slimy sewers For I was lost in loathing , But my soul grew rapidly In the muck and mud of this world For it was fertile and rich As my roots drank up all its goodness So please send me your degradation Your disrespect and contempt Your pretty wrapping of best interests Makes no fool of me For I will soak it up like the sky above For I embrace my madness And caress her beauty Like the most cherished lover As you reject your life Within the tight confines Of your own reason As you seek to bury your Disappointments in me I hold your self doubt in my hands For you live by scales and ranking As I throw away all scales And burn all efforts For there is nothing I can take from this world So please, please Strain if you must Look down on me If you can, As I am above For I own the sky And live above and beyond But all degradation disappears In the softest heart Of self acceptance As I fill the room All banter falls like the softest snow As we serenely dance and play In our snowball games As I learn to swing and play All jokes bounce and tickle The inside of my belly For I live in the ecstasy Of my own self acceptance As we roll around like clowns All barriers broken Our bellies full of joy As we spill over with love And bounce around like jelly For no degradation exists In the center of our hearts Where God permeates our souls For his love should be Followed into us whole As I accept God's goodness And perfection in all of me

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Jul 15, 2014

Jul 15, 2014 at 6:06 AM UTC

DEGRADATION AND SELF ACCEPTANCE

In this life you will find Degradation unavoidable For it is in the weather of our life Degradation is like radioactive waste We pass like presents to each other The rain on a wedding day As I did once live In the shadows of dread As degradation breathed on me And I fell into the pits of self doubt And stank of slimy sewers For I was lost in loathing , But my soul grew rapidly In the muck and mud of this world For it was fertile and rich As my roots drank up all its goodness So please send me your degradation Your disrespect and contempt Your pretty wrapping of best interests Makes no fool of me For I will soak it up like the sky above For I embrace my madness And caress her beauty Like the most cherished lover As you reject your life Within the tight confines Of your own reason As you seek to bury your Disappointments in me I hold your self doubt in my hands For you live by scales and ranking As I throw away all scales And burn all efforts For there is nothing I can take from this world So please, please Strain if you must Look down on me If you can, As I am above For I own the sky And live above and beyond But all degradation disappears In the softest heart Of self acceptance As I fill the room All banter falls like the softest snow As we serenely dance and play In our snowball games As I learn to swing and play All jokes bounce and tickle The inside of my belly For I live in the ecstasy Of my own self acceptance As we roll around like clowns All barriers broken Our bellies full of joy As we spill over with love And bounce around like jelly For no degradation exists In the center of our hearts Where God permeates our souls For his love should be Followed into us whole As I accept God's goodness And perfection in all of me

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The boy haden't bathed in over a month His **** crack was itching and burning His underpants were soaked in slimy, wet muck And his toes a thick jam were churning His armpits stank worse than a fat pigs raw *** His breath smelled like rancid fish His hair was so oily, matted to his head His own mother wouldn't give him a kiss "Enough!" he cried as a passing fly died When he raised his arm to exclaim. "I must bathe right away! I am long overdue!" "I sure hope the washcloths are brave." "To the bathroom man!" He shouted as he ran And his underpants sloppily squished "I will remove this filth and brush my green teeth" "And my mother I will kiss!" "The closet's ahead!" He said as he sped. And he stopped there to get some stuff. Some soap, some shampoo and a towel or two. But he knew that it wasn't enough. Look though he might, to his horror and fright, Not a single washcloth could he find. Then panic set in 'cause the stink of his skin Was driving him out of his mind. He looked yet again but to his chagrin The washcloth shelf was bare. The washcloths had run off For they would not wash So filthy a boy on a dare "Oh what will I do!" "Boo-hoo, boo-hoo!" The boy cried as flies swarmed his head. "I'd **** myself but I already smell" "Far worse than anything dead!" Then one washcloth came back Holding it's nose and a sack Of bath salts that smelled like dill. It said to the boy "Go pickle yourself!" "And give me a nausea pill!" So the boy rejoiced and filled the tub With water, hot as he could stand. And using the bath salts, he jumped right in And the pickling began. He lathered the washcloth with water and soap And scrubbed with all of his might. Away he washed all of the filth 'Til none was left in sight. He washed his hair and brushed his teeth And dried and dressed himself well. And the washcloth exclaimed as it hung on the tub "Holy crap! that was pure hell!" So the boy now clean ran to be seen By his mother he loved so much. And she gave him a kiss and said "This is pure bliss!" "I can kiss you and keep down my lunch!" The moral I'll tell you and true I will be So no one will say that I lied. Don't wait a whole month to take a bath Or you washcloths may run and hide.

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Aug 1, 2012

Aug 1, 2012 at 7:53 AM UTC

The boy haden't bathed in over a month His **** crack was itching and burning His underpants were soaked in slimy, wet muck And his toes a thick jam were churning His armpits stank worse than a fat pigs raw *** His breath smelled like rancid fish His hair was so oily, matted to his head His own mother wouldn't give him a kiss "Enough!" he cried as a passing fly died When he raised his arm to exclaim. "I must bathe right away! I am long overdue!" "I sure hope the washcloths are brave." "To the bathroom man!" He shouted as he ran And his underpants sloppily squished "I will remove this filth and brush my green teeth" "And my mother I will kiss!" "The closet's ahead!" He said as he sped. And he stopped there to get some stuff. Some soap, some shampoo and a towel or two. But he knew that it wasn't enough. Look though he might, to his horror and fright, Not a single washcloth could he find. Then panic set in 'cause the stink of his skin Was driving him out of his mind. He looked yet again but to his chagrin The washcloth shelf was bare. The washcloths had run off For they would not wash So filthy a boy on a dare "Oh what will I do!" "Boo-hoo, boo-hoo!" The boy cried as flies swarmed his head. "I'd **** myself but I already smell" "Far worse than anything dead!" Then one washcloth came back Holding it's nose and a sack Of bath salts that smelled like dill. It said to the boy "Go pickle yourself!" "And give me a nausea pill!" So the boy rejoiced and filled the tub With water, hot as he could stand. And using the bath salts, he jumped right in And the pickling began. He lathered the washcloth with water and soap And scrubbed with all of his might. Away he washed all of the filth 'Til none was left in sight. He washed his hair and brushed his teeth And dried and dressed himself well. And the washcloth exclaimed as it hung on the tub "Holy crap! that was pure hell!" So the boy now clean ran to be seen By his mother he loved so much. And she gave him a kiss and said "This is pure bliss!" "I can kiss you and keep down my lunch!" The moral I'll tell you and true I will be So no one will say that I lied. Don't wait a whole month to take a bath Or you washcloths may run and hide.

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My good morning was followed by a statement In which she said "I stank." It was the cigarette stank That made her utter the obvious complaint. She doesn't know my struggle. A mind of potential with the heart of a saint. Yet bound by demons And voices that say "I can't". I wish to tell her. How they help my mind go blank And away from the thoughts That are as loud as voices. How they help me think straight sometimes And give me the courage To make the right choices. It's just remnants of my fall From when my mind Hit rock bottom and I was unable To make the right choices. All of my demons, I've fought them And this is the smoke from the battle In which they are engulfed In its flame. The ending of the cant's and aint's. The smoke from this cigarette. So please excuse, my cigarette stank. Oh How her complaint Will echo through my mind And never become faint. I can't take this So when I get the chance I will light another cigarette To forget all about this And make me become correct. **** I hate that I have to smoke another cigarette. My good afternoon Was followed by a glare. A glare that married women Should never think to dare. She could see into my soul And knew that all isn't fair. Her beauty was one That I could never compare. So right back I would stare Until something broke my attention And again I begin to stare. Until I pictured her bare And being lost in lust Covered in each other's hair. Her eyes were flames of a flair Flickering off in the distance and Shining through the night air. I want to reach you And see what's up with that glare But life isn't fair. It has lead us to where we both Are a separate pair. Attempts to become close Will be followed by no's or I can't And how our meeting was too late. Which will be her complaint. The agony, I can not bare So I will let it fade away with The smoke from this cigarette. So please excuse, my cigarette stank. Oh How her complaint Will echo through my mind And never become faint. I can't take this So when I get the chance I will light another cigarette To forget all about this And make me become correct. **** I hate that I have to smoke another cigarette. Another cigarette Another cigarette **** I have to smoke another cigarette. My good evening Was followed an expression In which it looked like I stank. Her face was the face that God makes when we all sin. Disappointment cloaked in forgiveness And love. She smiles as she gives me a hug. I look at my daughter And even with her I can feel the love. When I'm alone I sigh. My mind is a puzzle And my true thoughts are shielded with a muzzle. So I let them fade away with The smoke from this cigarette. I just hope they excuse, my cigarette stank.

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Nov 19, 2014

Nov 19, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC

My good morning was followed by a statement In which she said "I stank." It was the cigarette stank That made her utter the obvious complaint. She doesn't know my struggle. A mind of potential with the heart of a saint. Yet bound by demons And voices that say "I can't". I wish to tell her. How they help my mind go blank And away from the thoughts That are as loud as voices. How they help me think straight sometimes And give me the courage To make the right choices. It's just remnants of my fall From when my mind Hit rock bottom and I was unable To make the right choices. All of my demons, I've fought them And this is the smoke from the battle In which they are engulfed In its flame. The ending of the cant's and aint's. The smoke from this cigarette. So please excuse, my cigarette stank. Oh How her complaint Will echo through my mind And never become faint. I can't take this So when I get the chance I will light another cigarette To forget all about this And make me become correct. **** I hate that I have to smoke another cigarette. My good afternoon Was followed by a glare. A glare that married women Should never think to dare. She could see into my soul And knew that all isn't fair. Her beauty was one That I could never compare. So right back I would stare Until something broke my attention And again I begin to stare. Until I pictured her bare And being lost in lust Covered in each other's hair. Her eyes were flames of a flair Flickering off in the distance and Shining through the night air. I want to reach you And see what's up with that glare But life isn't fair. It has lead us to where we both Are a separate pair. Attempts to become close Will be followed by no's or I can't And how our meeting was too late. Which will be her complaint. The agony, I can not bare So I will let it fade away with The smoke from this cigarette. So please excuse, my cigarette stank. Oh How her complaint Will echo through my mind And never become faint. I can't take this So when I get the chance I will light another cigarette To forget all about this And make me become correct. **** I hate that I have to smoke another cigarette. Another cigarette Another cigarette **** I have to smoke another cigarette. My good evening Was followed an expression In which it looked like I stank. Her face was the face that God makes when we all sin. Disappointment cloaked in forgiveness And love. She smiles as she gives me a hug. I look at my daughter And even with her I can feel the love. When I'm alone I sigh. My mind is a puzzle And my true thoughts are shielded with a muzzle. So I let them fade away with The smoke from this cigarette. I just hope they excuse, my cigarette stank.

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Aye,..Uhh where the weed...Where..(Where the2)..drinks..(Where the2)..weed..(where the2)..drinks..Uhh..Let's have some fun tonight mane, Yeah let's have some fun Aye..(Where the3)..weed, where..(where the2)..drinks,..Where..(Where the2)..weed..(Where the3).. Drinks..(Aye, let's have some fun tonight mane2)..(Yeah..let's have some fun*2)..Aye.. Burn up, Blaze up..Yeah burn up, Yeah Blaze up, Yeah po up, Yeah drink up, Yeah burn up..Yeah po up..Yeah..Blaze up, Yeah drink up.. let's (turn up2)..Yeah..let's..have (some fun2)..Yeah have fun mane..Aye..(Where the3)..weed..Yeah..where..(where the2)..drinks..(Yeah let's have some fun2)..tonight mane,aye..(Where the2)..weed..Yeah..(Where the2)..drinks..(Aye let's have some fun3)..Tonight mane..Aye..Po up Yeah, Blaze up Yeah...drink up ***** & burn up man..(let's have some fun..Yeah*3) man..Aye OFTR, we throwing a house party like we in the 70s era dawg, yeah we gonna have this **** jumping like Kid n Play dude.., mane The whole crib gonna foggy filled up wit hella smoke, aye..Yeah ***** that dope..Yeah that good kush aroma dawg..The only thing you can really see is the fire at the end of the roll up..Everybody drinking yeah Everybody rolling up, Yeah everybody coughing & choking & (having fun*3).. Yeah..my nigaa..Yeah we puffing on funky, Uhh.. Homie leave all the stress at the front door man..so Don't bring no drama, don't bring no problems, don't bring no ******* don't bring no false ones, & don't bring no stank ho's please dawg..forget blowing ****** we got sticky icky grown organically, no pesticides Yeah mane..just straight THC Thats it..home grown , Yeah we..(having fun*3)..relaxing kicking back Yeah kicking back a young ***** had a long *** tiresome day, now its time to unwind get high & have some fun..Yeah..man..Uhh.. Yeah, its time to roll up,Yeah, its time burn up, Yeah its time to po up..Yeah, its time get super drunk.. (Yeah just having fun*2) (Have fun*3)...man.. Yeah, we gone turn up tonight dawg, Aye we got 40s OEs, Aye we got champagne, clicquot mane,Aye..we got Budweiser, bud lights,coronas & 2,11s by the case load,..also ***** gin, & vsop..Yeah we getting ****** up like a white fraternity, please don't throw up mane,..make sure you eat..Aye mane, **** what people think about me I just live my life, who's the **** to tell me I ain't living right..nobody **** right.. (We having so much fun yeah*3)..tonight should be here dawg , come now, Noo we ain't stopping till the morning.. That's how OFTR party dawg..Uhh Yeah we party hard Aye.. (Where the **** at mane,Yeah where the drinks at,Aye4)...(burn up, po up, twist Yeah, don't stop..Uhh,Yeah3).. /Don't stop,3../3... ever nigga..let's go.. Noo I ain't done wit this song no not at all ...Ohh, that's what you thought dawg, **** I still got some more turning up to do.. Man I still got kegs & bags of marijuana that ain't even half way through we getting throwed ,like a football, Yeah we so gone mane..(Ohh*3)..Yeah dawg, Let's go.. (burn up, po up, twist Yeah, don't stop..Uhh,Yeah*3) /(Have fun3)..Yeah mane/2 (Have fun*3) Yeah..Uhh where the weed...Where..(Where the2)..drinks..(Where the2)..weed..(where the2)..drinks..Uhh..Let's have some fun tonight mane, Yeah let's have some fun Aye..(Where the3)..weed, where..(where the2)..drinks,..Where..(Where the2)..weed..(Where the3).. Drinks..(Aye, let's have some fun tonight mane2)..(Yeah..let's have some fun*2)..Aye.. Burn up, Blaze up..Yeah burn up, Yeah Blaze up, Yeah po up, Yeah drink up, Yeah burn up..Yeah po up..Yeah..Blaze up, Yeah drink up.. let's (turn up2)..Yeah..let's..have (some fun2)..Yeah have fun mane..Aye..(Where the3)..weed..Yeah..where..(where the2)..drinks..(Yeah let's have some fun2)..tonight mane,aye..(Where the2)..weed..Yeah..(Where the2)..drinks..(Aye let's have some fun3)..Tonight mane..Aye..Po up Yeah, Blaze up Yeah...drink up ***** & burn up man..(let's have some fun..Yeah*3) man..Aye We doing what we want Yeah..we having so much fun man, we twisting & drinking we living free Yeah..we living freer..than they want us to be , Yeah..we breaking all the rules like **** Dat **** Noo, we don't care about polices, noo, we don't give a **** about nothing, like **** all the laws homie, Naw mane, /we just do what we want..(Yeah2..)/2 we gone kick back & roll up the whole pacc, Yeah man,we gone wake up tomorrow & do the same **** again..Yeah man, we gone live it up..(Yeah, we gone have some fun3)..tonight.. (Yeah2)..Aye..Uhh Where..(where the3)..weed at...Where..(Where the3)..drinks at..Uhh..(Where the2)..weed..(where the2)..drinks..Uhh..Yeah Let's have some fun tonight mane, Yeah let's have some fun Aye..(Where the3)..weed, where..(where the2)..drinks,..Where..(Where the2)..weed..(Where the3).. Drinks..Aye, let's have some fun tonight mane.. (Yeah..let's have some fun*3)..Aye.. (Uhh..Yeah, Blaze up, burn up, drink up , po up, Yeah Blaze up, burn up, turn up, drink mo*3) (Have fun6)..(Yeah have fun4).. Man.. Let's have some fun..Aye

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Dec 29, 2015

Dec 29, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC

Ston Poet - **** & Drinks

Aye,..Uhh where the weed...Where..(Where the2)..drinks..(Where the2)..weed..(where the2)..drinks..Uhh..Let's have some fun tonight mane, Yeah let's have some fun Aye..(Where the3)..weed, where..(where the2)..drinks,..Where..(Where the2)..weed..(Where the3).. Drinks..(Aye, let's have some fun tonight mane2)..(Yeah..let's have some fun*2)..Aye.. Burn up, Blaze up..Yeah burn up, Yeah Blaze up, Yeah po up, Yeah drink up, Yeah burn up..Yeah po up..Yeah..Blaze up, Yeah drink up.. let's (turn up2)..Yeah..let's..have (some fun2)..Yeah have fun mane..Aye..(Where the3)..weed..Yeah..where..(where the2)..drinks..(Yeah let's have some fun2)..tonight mane,aye..(Where the2)..weed..Yeah..(Where the2)..drinks..(Aye let's have some fun3)..Tonight mane..Aye..Po up Yeah, Blaze up Yeah...drink up ***** & burn up man..(let's have some fun..Yeah*3) man..Aye OFTR, we throwing a house party like we in the 70s era dawg, yeah we gonna have this **** jumping like Kid n Play dude.., mane The whole crib gonna foggy filled up wit hella smoke, aye..Yeah ***** that dope..Yeah that good kush aroma dawg..The only thing you can really see is the fire at the end of the roll up..Everybody drinking yeah Everybody rolling up, Yeah everybody coughing & choking & (having fun*3).. Yeah..my nigaa..Yeah we puffing on funky, Uhh.. Homie leave all the stress at the front door man..so Don't bring no drama, don't bring no problems, don't bring no ******* don't bring no false ones, & don't bring no stank ho's please dawg..forget blowing ****** we got sticky icky grown organically, no pesticides Yeah mane..just straight THC Thats it..home grown , Yeah we..(having fun*3)..relaxing kicking back Yeah kicking back a young ***** had a long *** tiresome day, now its time to unwind get high & have some fun..Yeah..man..Uhh.. Yeah, its time to roll up,Yeah, its time burn up, Yeah its time to po up..Yeah, its time get super drunk.. (Yeah just having fun*2) (Have fun*3)...man.. Yeah, we gone turn up tonight dawg, Aye we got 40s OEs, Aye we got champagne, clicquot mane,Aye..we got Budweiser, bud lights,coronas & 2,11s by the case load,..also ***** gin, & vsop..Yeah we getting ****** up like a white fraternity, please don't throw up mane,..make sure you eat..Aye mane, **** what people think about me I just live my life, who's the **** to tell me I ain't living right..nobody **** right.. (We having so much fun yeah*3)..tonight should be here dawg , come now, Noo we ain't stopping till the morning.. That's how OFTR party dawg..Uhh Yeah we party hard Aye.. (Where the **** at mane,Yeah where the drinks at,Aye4)...(burn up, po up, twist Yeah, don't stop..Uhh,Yeah3).. /Don't stop,3../3... ever nigga..let's go.. Noo I ain't done wit this song no not at all ...Ohh, that's what you thought dawg, **** I still got some more turning up to do.. Man I still got kegs & bags of marijuana that ain't even half way through we getting throwed ,like a football, Yeah we so gone mane..(Ohh*3)..Yeah dawg, Let's go.. (burn up, po up, twist Yeah, don't stop..Uhh,Yeah*3) /(Have fun3)..Yeah mane/2 (Have fun*3) Yeah..Uhh where the weed...Where..(Where the2)..drinks..(Where the2)..weed..(where the2)..drinks..Uhh..Let's have some fun tonight mane, Yeah let's have some fun Aye..(Where the3)..weed, where..(where the2)..drinks,..Where..(Where the2)..weed..(Where the3).. Drinks..(Aye, let's have some fun tonight mane2)..(Yeah..let's have some fun*2)..Aye.. Burn up, Blaze up..Yeah burn up, Yeah Blaze up, Yeah po up, Yeah drink up, Yeah burn up..Yeah po up..Yeah..Blaze up, Yeah drink up.. let's (turn up2)..Yeah..let's..have (some fun2)..Yeah have fun mane..Aye..(Where the3)..weed..Yeah..where..(where the2)..drinks..(Yeah let's have some fun2)..tonight mane,aye..(Where the2)..weed..Yeah..(Where the2)..drinks..(Aye let's have some fun3)..Tonight mane..Aye..Po up Yeah, Blaze up Yeah...drink up ***** & burn up man..(let's have some fun..Yeah*3) man..Aye We doing what we want Yeah..we having so much fun man, we twisting & drinking we living free Yeah..we living freer..than they want us to be , Yeah..we breaking all the rules like **** Dat **** Noo, we don't care about polices, noo, we don't give a **** about nothing, like **** all the laws homie, Naw mane, /we just do what we want..(Yeah2..)/2 we gone kick back & roll up the whole pacc, Yeah man,we gone wake up tomorrow & do the same **** again..Yeah man, we gone live it up..(Yeah, we gone have some fun3)..tonight.. (Yeah2)..Aye..Uhh Where..(where the3)..weed at...Where..(Where the3)..drinks at..Uhh..(Where the2)..weed..(where the2)..drinks..Uhh..Yeah Let's have some fun tonight mane, Yeah let's have some fun Aye..(Where the3)..weed, where..(where the2)..drinks,..Where..(Where the2)..weed..(Where the3).. Drinks..Aye, let's have some fun tonight mane.. (Yeah..let's have some fun*3)..Aye.. (Uhh..Yeah, Blaze up, burn up, drink up , po up, Yeah Blaze up, burn up, turn up, drink mo*3) (Have fun6)..(Yeah have fun4).. Man.. Let's have some fun..Aye

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"Yet you feed us lies from the tablecloth" - B.Y.O.B. by System of a Down We sat across the table as we feasted on misguided notions. Our integrity tenderised, thoughts manipulated, traded with unconditional compassion. Twisted ideals, served upon the finest china. Delectable treats, laced with shards of such distorted agenda. Multi-faceted truths, all lobbied for self-centred gains. We're the ones who'd worry and cower under tattered brollies... To anticipate for when it would rain. Between us still sat the table. We'd still be served age-old (t)ale while the room stank of rancid broth. But I have lost my appetite the moment we were fed lies... Offered on the most extravagant tablecloth.

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Jun 19, 2016

Jun 19, 2016 at 2:07 PM UTC

"Yet you feed us lies from the tablecloth" - B.Y.O.B. by System of a Down We sat across the table as we feasted on misguided notions. Our integrity tenderised, thoughts manipulated, traded with unconditional compassion. Twisted ideals, served upon the finest china. Delectable treats, laced with shards of such distorted agenda. Multi-faceted truths, all lobbied for self-centred gains. We're the ones who'd worry and cower under tattered brollies... To anticipate for when it would rain. Between us still sat the table. We'd still be served age-old (t)ale while the room stank of rancid broth. But I have lost my appetite the moment we were fed lies... Offered on the most extravagant tablecloth.

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Leaving Minnesota on train or buses, crowded and alone, were you fearful to sleep on couches and of the Village people with a rhapsody of dreams and cacophony of chords, under rain and sewer stank was it hard, to step inside and play the first time for glistening eyes and stage lights and to let melody escape your belly-throat for them, or did you know more, that words can sculpt delicacy as smooth as Donatello and that life can be bought without wrinkled greens and pressed threads? Walking under a hard-rain of assumption and change, did Greenwich birth a demon-sadness, so you hid your neck beneath collars and dark glasses and smoky rhyme, when the ship comes in will you be onboard or escape to Louisiana, misunderstood, working a river boat after you give Lennon a puff and Warhol a tight-fist? Did sad-eyed Sara send you back leather spanish boots or forget, and was Christ able to mend that broken love, and did you later kick his idiot wind away and in 2009 on stage when I could see emptiness and heartbreak hidden underneath your creased stetson, were you still singing it ain't me, babe?

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Nov 21, 2014

Nov 21, 2014 at 8:26 PM UTC

Leaving Minnesota on train or buses, crowded and alone, were you fearful to sleep on couches and of the Village people with a rhapsody of dreams and cacophony of chords, under rain and sewer stank was it hard, to step inside and play the first time for glistening eyes and stage lights and to let melody escape your belly-throat for them, or did you know more, that words can sculpt delicacy as smooth as Donatello and that life can be bought without wrinkled greens and pressed threads? Walking under a hard-rain of assumption and change, did Greenwich birth a demon-sadness, so you hid your neck beneath collars and dark glasses and smoky rhyme, when the ship comes in will you be onboard or escape to Louisiana, misunderstood, working a river boat after you give Lennon a puff and Warhol a tight-fist? Did sad-eyed Sara send you back leather spanish boots or forget, and was Christ able to mend that broken love, and did you later kick his idiot wind away and in 2009 on stage when I could see emptiness and heartbreak hidden underneath your creased stetson, were you still singing it ain't me, babe?

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Dis nou die tyd om te babbel En my mond verby te praat , want hulle sê mos A drunk man's words is A sober man's thoughts... En wie weet dalk vind ek Die antwoorde in ń diep gesprek met myself... Sien ek is nie een van daardie AA lappies wat skeinheilig Sit en slukkies suip om Geluk onder in die bottel Op te spoor nie. Ek rook skaamteloos en Omhels die intense stank Van 10 jaar se lewe wat ek Mors en longkanker, want Dit herrinner my an oupa se Skoot en *** veilig ek was In daardie asbak woonstel Waar ek soos white-trash eers my brood moes inspekteer vir Indringer kokkerotte wat ook Maar net teen ons kompeteer het Vir ń krummeltjie kos. Ek babbel, want wat anders kan mens doen as vrees jou aangryp as die koue staal jou hande brand - En nee ek praat nie van lemme en inspuitings nie, Want lemme maak merke waarvan ek reeds te veel het wat nou oor my polse uitgesprei lê en my herrinner *** swak ek was, maar *** sterk ek was... en inspuitings los ek vir die dokters en susters en die bloeddiens Wat my leeg wil tap om een of ander sad case se lewe te red met bloed van ń bloedjie wat self nog in die verdoemtenis rond dwaal. Ek babbel, want dis social anxiety en scary stuff om in ń kring te sit en Russian roulette te speel met al 5 van die mense wat ander van jou verwag om te wees. Want wat gebeur as ek myself in hierdie hoerasie van persoonlikhede raakskiet. *** weet ek watter een is ek as elke een die sneller swaar trek en hoop en bid vir ń blank... *** weet ek. Kliek... Kliek... Kliek... Kliek... Bang!! En nou babbel ek maar weer ... Want ek het so pas agtergekom ek weet ook nie juis *** dit voel om dood te wees nie. Wie is ek... *** sal ek weet Bang! Bang! Bang! ... Ek weet.

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Apr 26, 2014

Apr 26, 2014 at 8:23 PM UTC

pieter-andries-christiaan

Tyd om te babbel

Dis nou die tyd om te babbel En my mond verby te praat , want hulle sê mos A drunk man's words is A sober man's thoughts... En wie weet dalk vind ek Die antwoorde in ń diep gesprek met myself... Sien ek is nie een van daardie AA lappies wat skeinheilig Sit en slukkies suip om Geluk onder in die bottel Op te spoor nie. Ek rook skaamteloos en Omhels die intense stank Van 10 jaar se lewe wat ek Mors en longkanker, want Dit herrinner my an oupa se Skoot en *** veilig ek was In daardie asbak woonstel Waar ek soos white-trash eers my brood moes inspekteer vir Indringer kokkerotte wat ook Maar net teen ons kompeteer het Vir ń krummeltjie kos. Ek babbel, want wat anders kan mens doen as vrees jou aangryp as die koue staal jou hande brand - En nee ek praat nie van lemme en inspuitings nie, Want lemme maak merke waarvan ek reeds te veel het wat nou oor my polse uitgesprei lê en my herrinner *** swak ek was, maar *** sterk ek was... en inspuitings los ek vir die dokters en susters en die bloeddiens Wat my leeg wil tap om een of ander sad case se lewe te red met bloed van ń bloedjie wat self nog in die verdoemtenis rond dwaal. Ek babbel, want dis social anxiety en scary stuff om in ń kring te sit en Russian roulette te speel met al 5 van die mense wat ander van jou verwag om te wees. Want wat gebeur as ek myself in hierdie hoerasie van persoonlikhede raakskiet. *** weet ek watter een is ek as elke een die sneller swaar trek en hoop en bid vir ń blank... *** weet ek. Kliek... Kliek... Kliek... Kliek... Bang!! En nou babbel ek maar weer ... Want ek het so pas agtergekom ek weet ook nie juis *** dit voel om dood te wees nie. Wie is ek... *** sal ek weet Bang! Bang! Bang! ... Ek weet.

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We'd found an old Boche dug-out, and he knew, And gave us hell, for shell on frantic shell Hammered on top, but never quite burst through. Rain, guttering down in waterfalls of slime, Kept slush waist-high and rising hour by hour, And choked the steps too thick with clay to climb. What murk of air remained stank old, and sour With fumes of whizz-bangs, and the smell of men Who'd lived there years, and left their curse in the den, If not their corpses... There we herded from the blast Of whizz-bangs, but one found our door at last, Buffeting eyes and breath, snuffing the candles, And thud! flump! thud! down the steep steps came thumping And sploshing in the flood, deluging muck - The sentry's body; then his rifle, handles Of old Boche bombs, and mud in ruck on ruck. We dredged him up, for killed, until he whined 'O sir, my eyes - I'm blind, - I'm blind, I'm blind!' Coaxing, I held a flame against his lids And said if he could see the least blurred light He was not blind; in time he'd get all right. 'I can't' he sobbed. Eyeballs, huge-bulged like squids', Watch my dreams still; but I forgot him there In posting Next for duty, and sending a scout To beg a stretcher somewhere, and flound'ring about To other posts under the shrieking air. * * * Those other wretches, how they bled and spewed, And one who would have drowned himself for good, - I try not to remember these things now. Let dread hark back for one word only: how Half-listening to that sentry's moans and jumps, And the wild chattering of his broken teeth, Renewed most horribly whenever crumps Pummelled the roof and slogged the air beneath, - Through the dense din, I say, we heard him shout 'I see your lights!' But ours had long died out.

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2.5k

We'd found an old Boche dug-out, and he knew, And gave us hell, for shell on frantic shell Hammered on top, but never quite burst through. Rain, guttering down in waterfalls of slime, Kept slush waist-high and rising hour by hour, And choked the steps too thick with clay to climb. What murk of air remained stank old, and sour With fumes of whizz-bangs, and the smell of men Who'd lived there years, and left their curse in the den, If not their corpses... There we herded from the blast Of whizz-bangs, but one found our door at last, Buffeting eyes and breath, snuffing the candles, And thud! flump! thud! down the steep steps came thumping And sploshing in the flood, deluging muck - The sentry's body; then his rifle, handles Of old Boche bombs, and mud in ruck on ruck. We dredged him up, for killed, until he whined 'O sir, my eyes - I'm blind, - I'm blind, I'm blind!' Coaxing, I held a flame against his lids And said if he could see the least blurred light He was not blind; in time he'd get all right. 'I can't' he sobbed. Eyeballs, huge-bulged like squids', Watch my dreams still; but I forgot him there In posting Next for duty, and sending a scout To beg a stretcher somewhere, and flound'ring about To other posts under the shrieking air. * * * Those other wretches, how they bled and spewed, And one who would have drowned himself for good, - I try not to remember these things now. Let dread hark back for one word only: how Half-listening to that sentry's moans and jumps, And the wild chattering of his broken teeth, Renewed most horribly whenever crumps Pummelled the roof and slogged the air beneath, - Through the dense din, I say, we heard him shout 'I see your lights!' But ours had long died out.

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I’ve got a lock and key, what you got? You got a door, a shrapnel embedded cupboard Curiously covered up that there is, do you want go out? No I got a boyfriend, but I do have a few contraceptives Or I could show you my funny parts and we could plateau on the platonic Abstinence is on par with networking Oh shipwrecks of relationships, your waters never looked safe, your shoreline so rocky, but your sail, if you see what I’m saying. ******* that wind a high-inducing pitch of a stank You took me to the foreign lands and never brought me back, a souvenir got emailed. Which I have just picked up, it’s actually rather beautiful, especially if we picked it out together It is a bullet and that is rather cliché in the expectable in this sense of the world, but the copper lining is exquisite, insert random bit about consumerism Then spin a bit around voyeurism, then mention the outcome of the movies, the moving bits. The back & forth where it all starts But like I said, you want a contraceptive? Or maybe just a sock? How about a **** addiction? This really isn’t a discussion we should be having, I don’t like arguing about these things and I’m a transvestite and rather think they don’t apply See the bit you said was babies and the bit I said was from the bible Jesus and Black Moses, walking down the street Preaching for the freaks Then the bit you said was more like, I don’t know what I’m saying, I mumble and moan And think about *** and college and loans and the bit that really stuck out was “Babies, they really just freak me out.”

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Nov 20, 2011

Nov 20, 2011 at 11:11 PM UTC

I’ve got a lock and key, what you got? You got a door, a shrapnel embedded cupboard Curiously covered up that there is, do you want go out? No I got a boyfriend, but I do have a few contraceptives Or I could show you my funny parts and we could plateau on the platonic Abstinence is on par with networking Oh shipwrecks of relationships, your waters never looked safe, your shoreline so rocky, but your sail, if you see what I’m saying. ******* that wind a high-inducing pitch of a stank You took me to the foreign lands and never brought me back, a souvenir got emailed. Which I have just picked up, it’s actually rather beautiful, especially if we picked it out together It is a bullet and that is rather cliché in the expectable in this sense of the world, but the copper lining is exquisite, insert random bit about consumerism Then spin a bit around voyeurism, then mention the outcome of the movies, the moving bits. The back & forth where it all starts But like I said, you want a contraceptive? Or maybe just a sock? How about a **** addiction? This really isn’t a discussion we should be having, I don’t like arguing about these things and I’m a transvestite and rather think they don’t apply See the bit you said was babies and the bit I said was from the bible Jesus and Black Moses, walking down the street Preaching for the freaks Then the bit you said was more like, I don’t know what I’m saying, I mumble and moan And think about *** and college and loans and the bit that really stuck out was “Babies, they really just freak me out.”

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I'm stuck for words at the moment I can't seem to find the right rhythm To describe you It's almost like the sweetest part of you, The one that I always knew loved me most Was hidden away from me for all the months That it was too cold for his steady warmth Like he was too afraid of becoming frozen And decided to lock himself away Inside of you Because of this feat I've found you to be more controlling, Causing me pain in ways I never thought you could, Or ever would, it hurt me to be with you, Though it hurt far more trying to flee, And so I stayed, holding on to the memories of the sweet boy Who always packed an extra sweater With me in mind, and never forgot To kiss me goodnight I hoped with all my heart he wasn't a facade, And that he'd come back to me, But hope faded fast, I wasn't sure if we'd last This is where I'm stuck, Because I'm still dazed by it all The weather is warmer, The sun shines brightly He's happy, Really happy Not just for the minute or hour Not because he just finished getting off either I honestly don't know what happened, Maybe he sees my effort? Maybe that's all that sweet boy I missed so dearly wanted, To see my effort in trying so hard to keep us together, Because beyond my fast falling hopes, I saw him today, all day. In every time he said "I love you," I saw him And it wasn't just an echo of something he should say, But rather his own heart speaking to me directly, I felt he meant it every time, Complete and total joy well up inside me now Love dripped from each word and syllable he spoke, His breath stank of it And I loved it And I knew he loved me, Despite all my horridness, he loves me. My god, I can't tell people enough of how happy I am, I've found the secret! I know what to do! Can it have been this simple all the while? All I had to do was but open my lips Let the sounds of my thoughts roll off my tongue So easy, so simple, And yet so hard all the same But I know what to do now And if this is what it takes to make my sweet boy Greet me with smiles and sweet kisses every day, That I'll **** well suffer through the hardships of change Until it becomes as natural as loving him.

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Apr 9, 2014

Apr 9, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC

myfuckingdomain

I'm stuck for words at the moment I can't seem to find the right rhythm To describe you It's almost like the sweetest part of you, The one that I always knew loved me most Was hidden away from me for all the months That it was too cold for his steady warmth Like he was too afraid of becoming frozen And decided to lock himself away Inside of you Because of this feat I've found you to be more controlling, Causing me pain in ways I never thought you could, Or ever would, it hurt me to be with you, Though it hurt far more trying to flee, And so I stayed, holding on to the memories of the sweet boy Who always packed an extra sweater With me in mind, and never forgot To kiss me goodnight I hoped with all my heart he wasn't a facade, And that he'd come back to me, But hope faded fast, I wasn't sure if we'd last This is where I'm stuck, Because I'm still dazed by it all The weather is warmer, The sun shines brightly He's happy, Really happy Not just for the minute or hour Not because he just finished getting off either I honestly don't know what happened, Maybe he sees my effort? Maybe that's all that sweet boy I missed so dearly wanted, To see my effort in trying so hard to keep us together, Because beyond my fast falling hopes, I saw him today, all day. In every time he said "I love you," I saw him And it wasn't just an echo of something he should say, But rather his own heart speaking to me directly, I felt he meant it every time, Complete and total joy well up inside me now Love dripped from each word and syllable he spoke, His breath stank of it And I loved it And I knew he loved me, Despite all my horridness, he loves me. My god, I can't tell people enough of how happy I am, I've found the secret! I know what to do! Can it have been this simple all the while? All I had to do was but open my lips Let the sounds of my thoughts roll off my tongue So easy, so simple, And yet so hard all the same But I know what to do now And if this is what it takes to make my sweet boy Greet me with smiles and sweet kisses every day, That I'll **** well suffer through the hardships of change Until it becomes as natural as loving him.

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There was an old man on my street, Who resembled a pig made for meat; He cussed and he drank He fought and he stank, 'till a car squished him into concrete!

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Nov 30, 2016

Nov 30, 2016 at 11:39 AM UTC

There was an old man on my street, Who resembled a pig made for meat; He cussed and he drank He fought and he stank, 'till a car squished him into concrete!

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The internal battle..eternal....(one from the vault) Lucifer and Jehovah dancing some mad bossa nova While angels on horse backs fought devils with black jacks The white dove of peace had surrendered his lease So God ripped off his wings.. he no longer sings Then the Devil ripped out his heart so it could end at the start. Wagner and Chopin got frightened.. ..and off they ran. But Beethoven and Bach were sat in the park Composing arias to fight Hells hot fires. While Chekhov and Handel burned coramandel But the smoke from that pyre stank like a byre. Socrates was sat dispensing the ethics Hippocrates swore while dishing out medics The Muses were musing one or two were enthusing Oooh look.. the good against sinner Let's go down the bookies and have a bet on the winner. Cometh the day cometh the morn Cometh the hour cometh the dawn. Here is Joshua blowing his horn And here comes Gabriel but all that he meets Are the countless dead lining up on the streets And the wounded and deathbound far far below I feel sorry for Gabriel I wish he could go. But Picasso arrives and cries My God it's my Guernica I'll do a pastiche Oh F*ck it he says and has a pastis (or two) Then Pollack turns up totally ****** Picks up a paint and says what I have missed? What a fantastic sight.. angels flashing demons crashing The hounds of Hell with teeth a gnashing Then Neptune arrives astride his watery chariot Scything through Demons and sat beside Judas Iscariot Mermen and mermaids mercilessly slayed By Beelzebubs prototypes Those that live in the black nights. But as the dawn breaks God knows what it takes So he sends for his legions calls out to all regions Take arms and do battle Till we hears Satans death rattle. And the heavens rip asunder to the sound of the thunder. Satan rings on Hells bell.. tells them all is not well Then disappears from our sight as if he's turned off the light. Then I awake with a start knowing that I've been a part Of something vast something grand A spiritual war being fought in this land I am alive and I shall survive. PRAISE BE.

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Feb 6, 2013

Feb 6, 2013 at 9:08 AM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

The internal battle..eternal

The internal battle..eternal....(one from the vault) Lucifer and Jehovah dancing some mad bossa nova While angels on horse backs fought devils with black jacks The white dove of peace had surrendered his lease So God ripped off his wings.. he no longer sings Then the Devil ripped out his heart so it could end at the start. Wagner and Chopin got frightened.. ..and off they ran. But Beethoven and Bach were sat in the park Composing arias to fight Hells hot fires. While Chekhov and Handel burned coramandel But the smoke from that pyre stank like a byre. Socrates was sat dispensing the ethics Hippocrates swore while dishing out medics The Muses were musing one or two were enthusing Oooh look.. the good against sinner Let's go down the bookies and have a bet on the winner. Cometh the day cometh the morn Cometh the hour cometh the dawn. Here is Joshua blowing his horn And here comes Gabriel but all that he meets Are the countless dead lining up on the streets And the wounded and deathbound far far below I feel sorry for Gabriel I wish he could go. But Picasso arrives and cries My God it's my Guernica I'll do a pastiche Oh F*ck it he says and has a pastis (or two) Then Pollack turns up totally ****** Picks up a paint and says what I have missed? What a fantastic sight.. angels flashing demons crashing The hounds of Hell with teeth a gnashing Then Neptune arrives astride his watery chariot Scything through Demons and sat beside Judas Iscariot Mermen and mermaids mercilessly slayed By Beelzebubs prototypes Those that live in the black nights. But as the dawn breaks God knows what it takes So he sends for his legions calls out to all regions Take arms and do battle Till we hears Satans death rattle. And the heavens rip asunder to the sound of the thunder. Satan rings on Hells bell.. tells them all is not well Then disappears from our sight as if he's turned off the light. Then I awake with a start knowing that I've been a part Of something vast something grand A spiritual war being fought in this land I am alive and I shall survive. PRAISE BE.

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Cry, cry all you want I don’t want to see salty tears burning through the mahogany table like droplet holes. I don’t want your dry lips pressing against mines as they will crack, your excuses for ripping my heart out with a silver spoon. and definitely don’t want the necklace I gave you full of fleas. I want you gone, gone from this castle!……………. “Drip, drip, drip, drip”…… I stared hard out the window. Is it my fault she had to be such a ****. Her dripping boots treading across the moody landscape, a sign of failure. Let her rot on the trenches of spears. I died for you we, you stank we I died, I died , I died for you!!!…… “Honey wake up”… “oh my dear, I had a terrible nightmare” ” I saw you staring at the window and thought you saw a ghost of some sort. You were deathly pale" Oh, was I?, It must have been my reflection……

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Apr 10, 2014

Apr 10, 2014 at 11:23 AM UTC

Sentimental Values

Cry, cry all you want I don’t want to see salty tears burning through the mahogany table like droplet holes. I don’t want your dry lips pressing against mines as they will crack, your excuses for ripping my heart out with a silver spoon. and definitely don’t want the necklace I gave you full of fleas. I want you gone, gone from this castle!……………. “Drip, drip, drip, drip”…… I stared hard out the window. Is it my fault she had to be such a ****. Her dripping boots treading across the moody landscape, a sign of failure. Let her rot on the trenches of spears. I died for you we, you stank we I died, I died , I died for you!!!…… “Honey wake up”… “oh my dear, I had a terrible nightmare” ” I saw you staring at the window and thought you saw a ghost of some sort. You were deathly pale" Oh, was I?, It must have been my reflection……

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cold metal blue ,silver and white sour citrus funkynes smells like stank trees of ebola town burp guzzle guzzle wallow

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Oct 16, 2014

Oct 16, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC

food poem (boring)

cold metal blue ,silver and white sour citrus funkynes smells like stank trees of ebola town burp guzzle guzzle wallow

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I'm employed But not enjoyed They're annoyed Until I'm destroyed Then they fill that void With another humanoid I'm a hollow coil From lots of toil Like hot oil I'm not royal I just boil Underneath the soil I say howdy Loudly To the rowdy That doubt me And out me As mouthy This mistake Fish tank I drank Stank So rank My mind went blank I cannot fight it My mind on autopilot The roof I tile it To style it Violet While lit I am a changeling That is aging From waging A war raging Against those caging The rat who's racing The pain is inner As a fidget spinner A ****** sinner Ate for dinner For he's the winner Of the money printer And my mind of cinder They broke me No joking Just poking The nope king While hoping Society starts sloping Towards communal coping

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Jul 30, 2018

Jul 30, 2018 at 2:34 AM UTC

I'm employed But not enjoyed They're annoyed Until I'm destroyed Then they fill that void With another humanoid I'm a hollow coil From lots of toil Like hot oil I'm not royal I just boil Underneath the soil I say howdy Loudly To the rowdy That doubt me And out me As mouthy This mistake Fish tank I drank Stank So rank My mind went blank I cannot fight it My mind on autopilot The roof I tile it To style it Violet While lit I am a changeling That is aging From waging A war raging Against those caging The rat who's racing The pain is inner As a fidget spinner A ****** sinner Ate for dinner For he's the winner Of the money printer And my mind of cinder They broke me No joking Just poking The nope king While hoping Society starts sloping Towards communal coping

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There he goes! He's quite a sight! He's an Ace... a STAR! The life of him! It's 3 at night He's just pulled from the bar He'll blind you... ***** your light Anywhere you are Is he cool?... or a blight He'll **** you with his car.... Rattletrap Cadillac He's bad to the bone Rattletrap Cadillac He goes it alone Rattletrap Cadillac He should be goin' home Rattletrap Cadillac He'll hit you... then he's GONE. He just got his SSI So he's good to go Drinks as much as he can buy Hard liquor, don't you know Has to give driving a try And he don't go slow When it comes to DUI He star's up the *SHOW! [chorus]* The Grim Reaper on the road He got drunk & stank He ain't scared... a gun to load And he ain't shootin' blanks Jail may be his abode If he weren't so rank As to hit, and then just GO Cuz he drives a tank! Rattletrap Cadillac He's bad... he's NATIONWIDE! Rattletrap Cadillac With Jack Daniels on his side Rattletrap Cadillac Because he won't decide To hit some trees... *or give up his KEYS AND GIVE UP HIS PRIDE!.*** SøuŁSurvivør (C) 4/18/2017

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Apr 18, 2017

Apr 18, 2017 at 2:51 PM UTC

Rattletrap Cadillac

There he goes! He's quite a sight! He's an Ace... a STAR! The life of him! It's 3 at night He's just pulled from the bar He'll blind you... ***** your light Anywhere you are Is he cool?... or a blight He'll **** you with his car.... Rattletrap Cadillac He's bad to the bone Rattletrap Cadillac He goes it alone Rattletrap Cadillac He should be goin' home Rattletrap Cadillac He'll hit you... then he's GONE. He just got his SSI So he's good to go Drinks as much as he can buy Hard liquor, don't you know Has to give driving a try And he don't go slow When it comes to DUI He star's up the *SHOW! [chorus]* The Grim Reaper on the road He got drunk & stank He ain't scared... a gun to load And he ain't shootin' blanks Jail may be his abode If he weren't so rank As to hit, and then just GO Cuz he drives a tank! Rattletrap Cadillac He's bad... he's NATIONWIDE! Rattletrap Cadillac With Jack Daniels on his side Rattletrap Cadillac Because he won't decide To hit some trees... *or give up his KEYS AND GIVE UP HIS PRIDE!.*** SøuŁSurvivør (C) 4/18/2017

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***Always with the separate rooms, same separate landlocked pontoons. Another follow up, billow of rank stank air, stale like the calming still of shell shocked monsoons, into the deep dark abyss I stare- Heightens my senses, that still begotten presence of quarantined ill begotten dimensions, left stark and in the dark with nothing but the whistling of our declining pensions- Repentance ask it of yourself, there's always an extra bottle on the tippy top shelf, reach high, you don't have to lie now, go ahead and lay that lye down- Corrosion never felt so **** good...***

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Mar 17, 2013

Mar 17, 2013 at 12:29 PM UTC

Lay the lye down

***Always with the separate rooms, same separate landlocked pontoons. Another follow up, billow of rank stank air, stale like the calming still of shell shocked monsoons, into the deep dark abyss I stare- Heightens my senses, that still begotten presence of quarantined ill begotten dimensions, left stark and in the dark with nothing but the whistling of our declining pensions- Repentance ask it of yourself, there's always an extra bottle on the tippy top shelf, reach high, you don't have to lie now, go ahead and lay that lye down- Corrosion never felt so **** good...***

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That amber liquid far from insipid Like molten honey but drawn from a tap, Bitter or dark, the choices quite stark, God's malted ale, nature's true sap. Vikings grew strong, strengthened their bond, Giving them courage for mayhem galore, A beer in their hand, they pillaged the land Never quite feeling tired or sore. The Celts used for curing, Egyptians for luring Their gods from the heavens bribed to partake, The English just drank as their water so stank, Beer their solution to gulp for life's sake. Wine lovers admit that their glass needs be sipped While describing aromas of berries and earth, No such constraint, nor need for restraint For drinkers of ale are freewheeling from birth. So let raise a jug or a frothy filled mug While watching a game and eating junk food, Nothing is wetter, more luscious and better Than a cold tasty beer when expertly brewed.

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Oct 8, 2021

Oct 8, 2021 at 11:20 AM UTC

For Lovers of Ale

That amber liquid far from insipid Like molten honey but drawn from a tap, Bitter or dark, the choices quite stark, God's malted ale, nature's true sap. Vikings grew strong, strengthened their bond, Giving them courage for mayhem galore, A beer in their hand, they pillaged the land Never quite feeling tired or sore. The Celts used for curing, Egyptians for luring Their gods from the heavens bribed to partake, The English just drank as their water so stank, Beer their solution to gulp for life's sake. Wine lovers admit that their glass needs be sipped While describing aromas of berries and earth, No such constraint, nor need for restraint For drinkers of ale are freewheeling from birth. So let raise a jug or a frothy filled mug While watching a game and eating junk food, Nothing is wetter, more luscious and better Than a cold tasty beer when expertly brewed.

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I'm not the curious kind I met you at the pub, You were with your cuz And I asked you, "What It Wuz?" Was it on my face, The invitation to come to my place? You won't have to guess for long, Once I get you home. One sultry look in my eyes, You'll know what's going on. Give your love to me. Open up and let me see. I want to lay you down. And kiss you all around. It don't mean a thang, If it ain't got that stank. Do-wop, Do-wop- Do-wa-a! How I hate - I hate it so, Whenever you say "no." Baby, let it go. Why else do you think I bought you all those drinks. This buzz don't come for free. I don't need to see What's in this for me. I've been here before So, I already know what I want. I'm not the curious kind. Once I have you all the time. You'll know that true love was on the line. I'm not looking to play games. I don't need your name. I don't need to see What's in this for me. I've been here before So, I already know what I want. I'm not the curious kind. I see I've met my match, And your plan is bound to hatch Because I know I'm a catch. Was it on your tongue, Right there on the very tip, when I stole your breath away from it? Now, now it won't take too long To find the beat of my song. When I get you into the rhythm, We'll have it going on. Lips and hips are true, My hands all over you. Shoo- *** Shoo-wop, Shoo-wa-a! For a moment I thought so, But you didn't tell me "No". Baby, let it go. My investment's coming through. You're gonna get yours, too. This high don't come for free. Once I have you all the time. You'll know that true love was on the line. I'm not looking to play games. I don't need your name. I don't need to see What's in this for me. I've been here before So, I already know what I want. I'm not the curious kind. I'm glad we didn't change our minds. We saw the whole thing through. And glad it was with you. I'm not the curious kind. I've been around the block some times. Experimenting's not what's on my mind. I've long since left my doubts behind. No-one here has need for shame. No-one has to point out any blame. No-one needs to be tamed. We struck a match and lit a flame. Once I have you all the time. You'll know that true love was on the line. I'm not looking to play games. I don't need your name. I don't need to see What's in this for me. I've been here before So, I already know what I want. I'm not the curious kind.

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Feb 22, 2016

Feb 22, 2016 at 2:00 PM UTC

I'm Not The Curious Kind

I'm not the curious kind I met you at the pub, You were with your cuz And I asked you, "What It Wuz?" Was it on my face, The invitation to come to my place? You won't have to guess for long, Once I get you home. One sultry look in my eyes, You'll know what's going on. Give your love to me. Open up and let me see. I want to lay you down. And kiss you all around. It don't mean a thang, If it ain't got that stank. Do-wop, Do-wop- Do-wa-a! How I hate - I hate it so, Whenever you say "no." Baby, let it go. Why else do you think I bought you all those drinks. This buzz don't come for free. I don't need to see What's in this for me. I've been here before So, I already know what I want. I'm not the curious kind. Once I have you all the time. You'll know that true love was on the line. I'm not looking to play games. I don't need your name. I don't need to see What's in this for me. I've been here before So, I already know what I want. I'm not the curious kind. I see I've met my match, And your plan is bound to hatch Because I know I'm a catch. Was it on your tongue, Right there on the very tip, when I stole your breath away from it? Now, now it won't take too long To find the beat of my song. When I get you into the rhythm, We'll have it going on. Lips and hips are true, My hands all over you. Shoo- *** Shoo-wop, Shoo-wa-a! For a moment I thought so, But you didn't tell me "No". Baby, let it go. My investment's coming through. You're gonna get yours, too. This high don't come for free. Once I have you all the time. You'll know that true love was on the line. I'm not looking to play games. I don't need your name. I don't need to see What's in this for me. I've been here before So, I already know what I want. I'm not the curious kind. I'm glad we didn't change our minds. We saw the whole thing through. And glad it was with you. I'm not the curious kind. I've been around the block some times. Experimenting's not what's on my mind. I've long since left my doubts behind. No-one here has need for shame. No-one has to point out any blame. No-one needs to be tamed. We struck a match and lit a flame. Once I have you all the time. You'll know that true love was on the line. I'm not looking to play games. I don't need your name. I don't need to see What's in this for me. I've been here before So, I already know what I want. I'm not the curious kind.

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I suppose I shouldn't be surprised how much cleaner the air breathes up here compared to the stale, stank fog back down in the little city we shared. —A thought: I barely recall the specific stench, an ever-present detail in what was my day-to-day existence. However, your words, complaints, ideas: "Like a diaper full of death" you said once, exactly, play in my head like a tape recorder, old and warped a little, but undoubtedly accurate.— And now, am I looking down on you? Or down at you? Over you? Is that you, floating place to place, living on a moment like a speck of dust, never entirely within anyone's grasp? Are you still toiling in the burning sun, harvesting what you planted, growing it strong and right? What movements are these? You live and toil and burn your fuel and spend it all each day and earn it back again. Oh, if you could join me! No, if only I could join you. I would toil, burn and spend everything to find a way so you could breathe, too, this new air. The air... Sweeter each moment, but thin, unfit. My head either aches or... it does not feel at all. Do you look up at me? Up to me? Up...over me? And what now have I got to look up to? A gust blows the speck away, gone elsewhere, never to stay.

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Oct 16, 2012

Oct 16, 2012 at 9:29 PM UTC

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised how much cleaner the air breathes up here compared to the stale, stank fog back down in the little city we shared. —A thought: I barely recall the specific stench, an ever-present detail in what was my day-to-day existence. However, your words, complaints, ideas: "Like a diaper full of death" you said once, exactly, play in my head like a tape recorder, old and warped a little, but undoubtedly accurate.— And now, am I looking down on you? Or down at you? Over you? Is that you, floating place to place, living on a moment like a speck of dust, never entirely within anyone's grasp? Are you still toiling in the burning sun, harvesting what you planted, growing it strong and right? What movements are these? You live and toil and burn your fuel and spend it all each day and earn it back again. Oh, if you could join me! No, if only I could join you. I would toil, burn and spend everything to find a way so you could breathe, too, this new air. The air... Sweeter each moment, but thin, unfit. My head either aches or... it does not feel at all. Do you look up at me? Up to me? Up...over me? And what now have I got to look up to? A gust blows the speck away, gone elsewhere, never to stay.

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You had torrents and storms in your hair Grey dewy eyes that whipped windy stares And at the beginning I didn’t feel the cold weather you brought around with you. you flickered like the hesitant cheap matchstick That resides in between the fingers of the adolescent that doesn’t yet understand Friction Caused by two opposing forces for a reason For an end product, to commit treason But not according to your abundant manual of Do’s and don’ts that mention in the title you’re exempt under the weight of so much paper thin equality chapters damp with words that stank of expectations I found a home under the printed lines of I love you, the running ink dousing me with a blackened perspective on what it was you really wanted for me To give but not receive to be free to talk but not to breathe but everyone knows you require both to form a voice and without that my fingers would slowly snap to the beat that my bones would crack To the rhythm of your whiplash tongue Which would flush waves against the shores that were my shrinking figure The small women you requested at the doorstep of our relationship Has finally shrunk to fit through the keyhole in the shape of your accessory Which is obviously necessary to put up with me.

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Apr 27, 2014

Apr 27, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC

You had torrents and storms in your hair Grey dewy eyes that whipped windy stares And at the beginning I didn’t feel the cold weather you brought around with you. you flickered like the hesitant cheap matchstick That resides in between the fingers of the adolescent that doesn’t yet understand Friction Caused by two opposing forces for a reason For an end product, to commit treason But not according to your abundant manual of Do’s and don’ts that mention in the title you’re exempt under the weight of so much paper thin equality chapters damp with words that stank of expectations I found a home under the printed lines of I love you, the running ink dousing me with a blackened perspective on what it was you really wanted for me To give but not receive to be free to talk but not to breathe but everyone knows you require both to form a voice and without that my fingers would slowly snap to the beat that my bones would crack To the rhythm of your whiplash tongue Which would flush waves against the shores that were my shrinking figure The small women you requested at the doorstep of our relationship Has finally shrunk to fit through the keyhole in the shape of your accessory Which is obviously necessary to put up with me.

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Disregarded, no thanks. I no longer fall for the pranks. I withdraw my cash from the bank. On a scale of one to ten how do I rank? Poverty stenches & stank. Stale & untrusted. Broken, abandoned, & undusted. Defeated, hobbled, & now rusted. Felonies & misdeameanors busted. Lawbreakers, corruded & crusted. Marry a man with a job & a van. Who does all that he can. My secret wish on a shooting star. To stop getting drunk at the bar. A walk to his momma's house isn't far. Work ethics get my kiss. Employment was my wish. Success is our bliss. Like jawbreakers dangerous & senseless. Civilization settlers & makers. Pioneers, homemakers, waiters, bakers, & Quakers. The towns folk are usually broke. Different walks of life is no joke. Occupations & professions of a wife.

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Mar 3, 2015

Mar 3, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC

harmony-sapphire

Used & Discarded

Disregarded, no thanks. I no longer fall for the pranks. I withdraw my cash from the bank. On a scale of one to ten how do I rank? Poverty stenches & stank. Stale & untrusted. Broken, abandoned, & undusted. Defeated, hobbled, & now rusted. Felonies & misdeameanors busted. Lawbreakers, corruded & crusted. Marry a man with a job & a van. Who does all that he can. My secret wish on a shooting star. To stop getting drunk at the bar. A walk to his momma's house isn't far. Work ethics get my kiss. Employment was my wish. Success is our bliss. Like jawbreakers dangerous & senseless. Civilization settlers & makers. Pioneers, homemakers, waiters, bakers, & Quakers. The towns folk are usually broke. Different walks of life is no joke. Occupations & professions of a wife.

Continue reading...