"sulky" poems
The Grump put on his morning face.
Wiped away crystallised grit ,
Straight out of her teared up eyes.
My goodness this poem is shaped out of ****
A deliberate ploy,
For she is woman, and he is boy.
He had a *** change,
Normally grumpy is male, hee hee,
Today grumpy is me.
The last Sunday of a somewhat sulky year.
Look deep in my eyes and surely you'll see a tear.
I don't cry.....
Why ever should I ?
Mentally strong as a freaking ox,
Manipulative as a silver fox.
A wicked sense of humour.
Thank f**k ,
Without that I'd probably have no luck,
Not out on the pull.
That just isn't cool.
Ladies don't.
This lady can't be bothered!
(C) Livvi
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 9:11 AM UTC
Among pelagian travelers,
Lost on their lewd conceited way
To Massachusetts, Michigan,
Miami or L.A.,
An airborne instrument I sit,
Predestined nightly to fulfill
Columbia-Giesen-Management's
Unfathomable will,
By whose election justified,
I bring my gospel of the Muse
To fundamentalists, to nuns,
to Gentiles and to Jews,
And daily, seven days a week,
Before a local sense has jelled,
From talking-site to talking-site
Am jet-or-prop-propelled.
Though warm my welcome everywhere,
I shift so frequently, so fast,
I cannot now say where I was
The evening before last,
Unless some singular event
Should intervene to save the place,
A truly asinine remark,
A soul-bewitching face,
Or blessed encounter, full of joy,
Unscheduled on the Giesen Plan,
With, here, an addict of Tolkien,
There, a Charles Williams fan.
Since Merit but a dunghill is,
I mount the rostrum unafraid:
Indeed, 'twere damnable to ask
If I am overpaid.
Spirit is willing to repeat
Without a qualm the same old talk,
But Flesh is homesick for our snug
Apartment in New York.
A sulky fifty-six, he finds
A change of mealtime utter hell,
Grown far too crotchety to like
A luxury hotel.
The Bible is a goodly book
I always can peruse with zest,
But really cannot say the same
For Hilton's Be My Guest.
Nor bear with equanimity
The radio in students' cars,
Muzak at breakfast, or--dear God!--
Girl-organists in bars.
Then, worst of all, the anxious thought,
Each time my plane begins to sink
And the No Smoking sign comes on:
What will there be to drink?
Is this ma milieu where I must
How grahamgreeneish! How infra dig!
****** from the bottle in my bag An analeptic swig?
Another morning comes: I see,
Dwindling below me on the plane,
The roofs of one more audience
I shall not see again.
God bless the lot of them, although
I don't remember which was which:
God bless the U.S.A., so large,
So friendly, and so rich.
4k
Introduction:
What is Preludium but a time to reflect on what it is we know;
What has gone before, and how it might shape those things to come?
Preludium, or, what has gone before:
An entire world,
A great big steaming musty living breathing screaming world and-
For all we know-
There’s but two souls that care to fill it:
Sly Squint, our latest hero,
Swinging through his city like t’were a steaming jungle
And him the proverbial Ape,
He crouches in shadows on rooftops,
Directing his lust, forceful! At all
That kneels before him.
Then there’s our mysterious wanderer-
One hell of a sorry, stinking, sulky sort is he.
No Name to claim yet garbed in rags aplenty
Travelling on an endless quest
Towards a dying dusk.
Yet we need to draw a Third.
See, in this strange place we find ourselves, riddled with danger and loss,
We need one who knows some things;
One who is up there;
Better yet, one who helped to shape this world.
Because for now we are clueless, vulnerable, shambling in darkness.
And that will simply not do.
So, with haste, dear reader, with haste,
Let us ride for the one with the answers;
The one with more Names than you can count, even if you had a lifetime in which to do so;
The one who holds all the strings.
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 7:00 PM UTC
It begins brusquely in the dark, a hoary noise,
a tune which all the cats in town enjoy.
Yes, they stare at the stage for a sparkle of gold
to come forth from the shadows, the sound will take hold.
Rippling through the room, a devilish groan
rises, spirals high from an aged baritone.
The other musicians join in this depressing affair
and the men in their fifties are still fused to their chairs.
The sulky cello, whining trumpet slither into the mix,
the sadness fills the ears of several dozen beatniks.
Then with no caution comes a madcap flow
of music from the star performer, frantic yet mellow.
And it slows, then picks up, goes on for what feels like a year,
this rugged Jazz, no words but my, **** sincere.
Like something so eccentric that can't be left alone,
everyone captivated by the golden saxophone.
May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 5:39 PM UTC
ugh.
so i remembered today
that one of the first things
i ever said
when i met you
was
"dating is boring. i prefer
bestfriending"
and i've realized
that we're now bestfriends
and we say
"i love you,
bestfriend"
all the time
what does this
meaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan
are we secretly
in a relationship?
is that why
you keep getting sulky
when i talk to other guys
and then skype me
facebook me
text me
if you can't get a hold of me
every single night?
i mean
i could just
yknow
ASK YOU
but if we're not
then it'll be all weird
and if we are
i'll lose
my bestfriend
i guess i lose him
either way
best to stay
silent
ugh.
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 4:06 AM UTC
That's right we do have them,
they don't hurt in the same way,
but they're a pain in the ***
and they **** up my days!
Some of us get grumpy,
some of us get easily ******
some of us get sulky,
and it normally equates to this!
I feel ****
when my gorgeous girl is away,
call me ***** although I won't be labelled as a ******
why can't my lovely just stay!
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
by Damon G
. glum, morose, surly, sulky, crabbed, saturnine, gloomy mean showing a forbidding or disagreeable mood. sullen implies a silent ill humor and a refusal to be sociable
I'M BECOMING UNWOUND
. glum suggests a silent dispiritedness . morose adds to glum an element of bitterness or misanthropy
I NEED SOMETHING TO HAPPEN
. surly implies gruffness and sullenness of speech or manner
A VIOLENT THING, EVEN
. sulky suggests childish resentment expressed in peevish sullenness . crabbed applies to a forbidding morose harshness of manner
THE CRUSH OF A BREAKDOWN
. saturnine describes a heavy forbidding aspect or suggests a bitter disposition
A REASON TO WANT TO
. gloomy implies a depression in mood making for seeming sullenness or glumness .
GET UP AGAIN
Jun 13, 2010
Jun 13, 2010 at 9:51 PM UTC
Here is a long and lonely night
has come again in my life.,,
Again alone with these tears,,
again I am dreading the fact
that the night of pain will never be over,,,
my tears is trickling down in the dark,,,
drop by drop the tears move down
to the way of separation from the eyes
and the eyes has no grievance
why are you leaving them alone..
The affiance of mine is tears...
And I know that it would never break.,,
affiance of my solitude..
Something has broken me inside
due to some one
Today i am sulky in the deep of the heart. Everything is constantly....
going away from me....
My scars again changing into wounds..
Today is another new darkest night
but my wounds was old..
Let the pain flows in the veins
let them allow what they want to say now...
I am just sit and smile here,,
listening to the beats
which is slowing in the remembrances,,
I had the affiance of my beloved
but she left me somewhere
in the corner of the dark,,,
who truly care and will hold you
close through even the darkest night,,
i think no one is here and
no body want to be here
to be bury in the dark,,
but I am constantly talking
to my moon in my pain
those who not is not infront of me..,
with this hapless life
I don't want to be myself again,,,
i have closed my eyes
with my shattered dreams... MGO
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 11:22 AM UTC
Take a long drive to see the theater production
called "Your Life" in front of me.
I take it in letting my imagination float
and get wrapped in the reality of you and me.
The plot will thicken and the suspense grows
the desire will bring the ****** then resolution.
But by the time it leads to the final scene, I'm upset,
as there is no happy ending, just confusion.
So now I leave the stage with disapproval and hurt
thinking how I just wasted my time.
Unwilling to accept the fate of this show
I wish to re-write it with my own rhyme.
Spending hours upon hours pondering new ideas
of how to end this show perfectly
Rejecting every possible outcome I write
trying to elude the feeling of misery.
However, I can't give up or stop trying
this play must not go sulky.
I must keep on making endings
to complete the thespian in me.
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 2:54 AM UTC
Monica had a sulky expression
and pouted her lips
you watched her
as you waited
for her brothers
to come out
of the farmhouse
they won’t let me
come ride bikes with you
she said
but I can ride a bike
I have my own
she leaned against the fence
one foot resting
on a cross beam
it’s not up to me
who goes on bike rides
you said
but you could say
you want me along
she said
you do want me
to come along
don’t you?
why do girls do that?
you asked yourself
looking beyond her
to the farmhouse
hoping the boys
would show soon
eh?
she muttered
don’t you?
if your brothers
are ok with it
I don’t mind
you said
but they won’t
say that will they?
she said
folding her arms
and giving you
the big stare
maybe if you ask your mother
they might
you suggested
seeing her lips set
in a thin line
where a smile
should have been
she’ll side with them
Monica said
you’re too young to ride
with the boys she’ll say
Monica mimicked
in a motherly type voice
she put down her foot
from the fence
and walked toward you
you noticed she was wearing
a green dress
with flowers across
her small bust
she stood in front of you
her hands wrestling
with each other
I want to go with you
she said softly
please say yes
and they’ll listen to you
you studied her features
the way she tilted her head
and the eyes
how they searched you
the farmhouse door opened
and the boys came out
excitedly getting on their bikes
and riding up toward you
run along a play Monica
Pete said
yes go play
with your doll and pram
Jim said
I want to ride with you
she said
Benedict wants me to
she added
giving you a staring gaze
no he don’t
Pete said
he thinks you’re a pain
in the ***
no he doesn’t
she said
he said he wants me to go
Jim laughed and Pete said
sure he did
like he wants you
to kiss his ***
now go off and play
she looked at you
her eyes deepening
I don’t mind
you said
she isn’t coming
Jim said
now go away
or I’ll call Mum
and see what she says
Monica poked out her tongue
and walked away
the boys began peddling
their bikes as you did yours
but looking back
toward the farmhouse
you saw her give
a one finger up you sign
before she went indoors.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 2:30 AM UTC
sun rising fast
orange light gives public transportation a peculiar look
pink sky is my favorite
my short skirt
and black lipstick
his long unkept hair
and Iron Maiden tee
its nice to see another misfit on the bus
mr. metal flashes me a smile
I pretend to be occupied with my cell phone
I got a boyfriend
besides
i'm not used to flattery
mr. metal is silly
he's drumming the seats with his fingers
I pinch a black smile
don't laugh, be sensible
putting on my librarian face
glasses on the edge of my nose
sweep back stray hairs against my sensible bun
mr. metal is staring holes into me
he is amused
now I'm sulky
go back into Gatsby and Daisy
this is a bit coincidental
we are way too funny
breaks
bells
next stop
mr.metal clashes into my world
books fly
headphones are yanked
automatic door
next thing I know
i'm flailing off a bus
wonderful.
mr. metal is sorry
I dont know I'm laughing
til my sides start to hurt
grouchy morning bystanders are looking with interest
and the bus driver is surpressing a deep belly laugh
I remind him of his clumsy wife, sister, girlfriend, or daughter.
mr. metal is headbanging to my black sabbath
and picking up my books
suddenly I know
he has a very tired understanding mother
he helps me up
we're both wearing black nail polish
dont ask me why this is so hilarious
i'm stood up, brushed off, and looked at
he looks at me like an ex
he smells good
I blush far too easily
thanks are muttered
and we turn around to walk off
like a graceful plot
of some movie I've never seen
I get a text from baby
he takes such good care of me.
mr. metal will meet a cute girl he can pit with
at some heavy concert
and maybe when she's cold
he'll give her that leather jacket
and he'll ride the bus with her
all night long
thats what i'd like to think
either way
life is good.
Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 1:05 PM UTC
bzzz bzzz goes the cell phone
****
it reads
My reply
Shush, we're not talking
about you. Movie n wine
at home later? Maybe
jacuzzi?
bzzz
Mmm ill call u love. Im
tired and cant be out late.
I have work 8am to 7pm :\
wow, ain't that lame
to which I say
:-\ ok
a few minutes later on
and I text again
I love you. Im sorry for
being sulky. I just miss
you and really just want
to see you.
there it goes again
I miss you too i love you
so effing much
:-( only 2 days but its felt
like an eternity
Agreed
and then poetry
gets the better of me
My love. You leave me an
empty vessel when you
are away. A ship without
sails. The sun without a
sky.
Her reply comes
Hunny :)
followed up quick
Im going to make this an
early night
Ouch that hurts
Caught me off guard
Do I be sad?
Or do I be smooth?
I cant even talk you into a
quick yogurt session? Ill
drive. Just there and back.
my phone rattles back
Im grumpy tired and
waking up early lovebaby
shoot quick
And I can put you to bed
w a smile on your face :)
Be a little more specific
:)
oh god
and here comes the barage
A back rub, a massage. A
head rub, a hug. A kiss, a
squeeze. Lets just say
that this lil finger went to
market.
And as Ive said, I just
want to see my baby. So I
apologize if Im being
pushy. Ive missed you
more that ever this last
day.
Hehe lovebaby *** youre
adorable
Adorable enough to get
you to agree to a quick
trip to yogurt or
something? Pretty please
w a cherry on top?
Youre.sweet and tempting
like.a cherry :) lovebaby
lets watch the snow fall
one day
Well then have a lil taste
of the cherry. It promises
to have you home by
11:45 :-)
Gah golly u make this
hard
And here it goes
full blown
oh god
oh no
Say yes and it wont be
hard. Say yes and know
you made me the
happiest boy ever. Say
yes and know you get to see
your love. Say yes and
know that my eyes will
twinkle like your own
personal stars tonite. I
miss you :-(
Jack. I love you
One more desperation push
I love you too baby.
What have you got to
lose? And Im sorry Im
hassling you. I really
really miss you.
and then the minutes drag on
a few and then ten
maybe a few more and
Im sorry, Ill stop. I hope
you have a good nite.
Sleep well love. I miss
you.
and then
there it is
I love you
I love you too baby. Im
sorry for being crazy.
and time stretches on
the beats grow long
and in reply
Ill call u whn im home
Aug 6, 2010
Aug 6, 2010 at 9:26 AM UTC
by my neighbor's
sumptuous sunflowers
whose seedy faces
reach for the summer sky
propped up by their leggy stems
gracing that dirt driveway
these yellow bursts of flower power
may not linger
too much longer
for a sulky summer storm
waits wickedly
in the wings
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
You hide behind that smile
An artificial mouthful of white
Barren in warmth
Just as your barren gums
You give me a sulky kiss
The commercial Zollywood type
Purring
Like a cat with a fatal cold
Stiff-necked in my arms
With feigned bliss
Shut up your ****** mouth
Your breath is not Ozone -friendly
kills my good mood
And stop looking at me
Behind those dark glasses
They don't hide your ***** mind
Behind
Though your face is clean
Your neck and back of ears are not
I know your ***** habits
A nauseating lump of pretence
You fabricate, embroider,magnify
Pretence
is all you know
I hate you
-dougwa-
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 9:54 AM UTC
Curveballs can be hit,
But dodgeballs are impossible to dodge.
Comparing dodgeball to a summer’s day?
Shakespeare, try again.
Dodgeball, you are synonymous
To a hellfire confined to a perimeter
That destroys everything it touches,
Especially at summer camps.
I walk away from dodgeball alive,
But dead in self-esteem:
Always getting hit,
And any clever maneuver of mine always seems to be a violation
Of game rules.
Dodgeball, you only fuel my aggression.
When I am the only one in play,
And see beyond the half court line
Stronger, more agile and athletic demons
Ready to pelt their confidence against my hope,
My mind defaults to “bad-sport” ideas
And just wants to get the match over with,
Lose or win.
With a POW!
Or even the slightest brush of orb to skin,
I give in
And have to wait until opposing victory cheers melt
Before grudgingly submitting to a pointless rematch
That tortures me, vaccinates me with sulky feelings.
Crying over spilled milk is negotiable,
But I cannot undo the rash from the whiff of a dodgeball
By screaming “That’s so not fair!”
Instead, I force out good sportsmanship,
My eyes wincing, my throat and mind hardening
In the struggle to keep vengeance contained.
If only the interest in dodgeball would cease
And suffocate on the taste of its own humiliation.
Boy, would I ever love to burn some dodgeball rubber.
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
Visiting my parents I learned
that I am being played, a game
in which I am board and piece and ****** weapon.
When a picture of me sulky toddler evokes “You always hated me”
roots uncurl hibernated spores stored
through my salad days and youthful spring.
Broach the soil as I **** ankles grabbed,
leg-locked planted firm reaching.
What do you think grows down there? Digging has
turned up rotted fibers, matted hairs and husks.
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 8:00 AM UTC
* As I was familiarizing the sulky start,
Seeking clues in my mindful halt,
I aboard my ride for another venture,
Holding my seat as script on censor,
Lost in retrospect of my past,
Heard a familiar tone at last,
He got me indulged with the queries of life,
Sharing his perspectives of life,
It seems like he has tapped into my mind,
After a chitchat, he seems to be one of my kind,
At last it was the time to say goodbye,
Leaving me reasons, for the next time to say “hi”*
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 11:02 AM UTC
Across the room I watch you from afar
So much to see, so much to admire
I can only gawk in awe:
Shimmering softly beneath the party
lights
Delicate as fine porcelain, elegant just
like a China doll
Little Perky ! diminutive little button
of a nose
A sublime protuberance, with a
wonderful angular symmetry;
Like a beautiful ballerina in the centre
of the face
One lonely Cinderella, forever
overlooked and unsung
Neglected, passed over, the great
unmentioned one;
So still and so quiet, mysterious like a
question mark -
"Little Perky, don't you fret, I! Me!
I'll be your poet though a poor poet I
be
I'll hold up your charms for the whole
wide world to see,
I'll be your dashing Prince too, if you
let me".
Finely chiselled, exquisitely sculpted
Better than any Michaelangelo
And I love the little wiggle;
How silently you sit there and how
patient, enduring all
Stuck between the two drama Queens
Eyes all painted up, that flit and dart
Twinkling and fluttering outrageously
like their a class apart,
And a rouged up Mouth's sulky lips,
burning rubber
Busy gabbing away, running off like a
wild piano;
But then there's you Little Perky,
simplicity itself
Shy bulbous beauty, a throwback to
childhoods innocent days:
Like the others, you play the game
You go along but it's not the same,
See you sniff into your little hankie
And know that beneath, you're
probably not all that happy,
You seem to say (to me at least)
" I hoped for more, I dreamt - I dreamt
of other things
And other nights than these".
I see you Little Perky, I see you all
alone in your lonely prison cell
I hear your sniffles, your silent sobs
and sighs.
When pinned in the corner and
assailed from all sides
My eyes, they secretly run to your
quiet hill, that lonely mountain,
Like Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights
I'll wait for you Little One
I'll wait for you there..... my Cathy
(O! lovely wild and spirited Cathy)
I'll wait for you through the wind, the
rain and the snow
I'll wait for you to come
I'll wait for the real 'You' to show,
Beyond all the bravado and the big
bluster notes
Beyond the crowds constraining looks
I'll wait for you, my Love,
We'll laugh again, and dance beneath
the stars
We'll live the dreams that once we had.
Little Perky, sweet alarm bell of the
soul, shiny little bugle that gleams
Go on now, give it one more blow
One huge giant elephantine blast
That'll sweep them all away
And leave only you and me here,
alone at last
Facing each other across this floor
O! Little Perky, my Cinderella, my
Cathy.......my Heart!
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 6:27 PM UTC
I see the rigours of time
Etched on your sulky face
Though the sun's fingers caress
The brow of your ambitions
Nostalgia tinkles solemn bells
Of dreams maimed and cobwebbed
By time's blunt knife
I see you mourn
Life is molten wax that congeals
With a caress of the air
Life is a wagon swaggering downhill
A liberating spasms
Of wee wet dreams...
I see you mourn
I see your determination thawing
Like white icicles on white winter window pane
I see your patience wane in pain
Like dry cakes of mud in the African sun
I see your conscience rot and ooze
Black brackish slimy rot
Tomorrow they will declare you
A disaster no-go-area zone
I see you mourn
Emotions thunder, tempers glow
And voice a shrill mingle with unknown
Raucous whispers of the gods of doom
This world has been terribly nice to you
I see you whimper like a miserable dog
That has lost its tail
Brother you have lost your tale
I see you mourn.
-dougwa-
Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 6:40 AM UTC
#1
You were my first kiss, my first boyfriend, my first grown up moment
older, seemily sophisticated
you had this idea that the world was lucky to have you in it
a god complex like no other
and let me tell you, you had 15 year old me,
convinced
I felt lucky
I felt old and sophisticated
and although
you were just a bump in my road
I'm thankful I knew someone like you
I think of you from time to time
I remember you with giggles
and innocence
as well as with ice cream and tears
oh how sweet and naive a 15 year old can be
#2
You've always been my favorite.
stood tall, sweet
you thought I was the best thing that ever happened to you
I swear you would've tried to move those mountains
just to see me dance with a smile
you loved me with pure intentions
and a sparkle in your eye
I'm sorry I ruined that love story for you
you deserve a great love story more than any of us
to the first boy I ever loved,
it felt like magic. didn't it?
heart flutters and forehead kisses
faded all too quickly
I think of you from time to time
I hope you find the girl who holds your great love story in the palm of her hands
oh how sweet a first love can be
#3
I call you the lion in poems
you took whatever innocence I had left in my fragile frame
I never had seem evil with my own two eyes until I met yours
you gave me a pit in my stomach and a fear in my heart
you showed me some actions can never earn forgiveness
and some people are so ugly
they don't deserve love
I think of you from time to time
especially in the nightmares
I hope you shutter at the thought of my name
thanks for teaching me how to bring a power hungry man to his god **** knees
I won't forget that lesson
oh how sweet a corrupt man can be
#4
my muse
you have been the subject of my words since the day I laid eyes on you
brilliant, brave and bold
you are the root of any and all
of my inspiration
how could anyone not fall for you
no one ever warned me about the sad brown eyes
and the sulky smile
no one ever told me the greatest loves
make for the most epic heartbreaks
you are a wicked man my love
but if there's anything this heart of mine beats for
it's a troubled boy begging for a home
I let you in, no trouble at all
it's getting you out, thats been a little more difficult
I think of you all the time
days on end, minutes on high
my mind is polluted with the images you left for me to find
I hope you know,
my baby is you. till the end of time
oh how troubling a life saving love
can be
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 10:50 PM UTC
The clock on my tablet has struck twelve
And I wonder what it is I can easily delve
Into on a night as wondrous as this one is
Back home the witching hour has come
And I am sixty-seven and feeling calm
Here in the queen’s realm I still am sixty-six
I watch the cloudy skies for a sign, any sign
Dawn is a reticent traveller and by design
In the home country we’d be up and about
What a lark when finally it’s daybreak here
And there’s none of the fabled English bird songs
To serenade my day, just the sulky silence and drizzle
Who needs contrivance when family is here and warm?
My day is made when finally at table we sit and are merry
Counting my blessings and dreaming of something spectacular.
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 10:45 AM UTC
*There are two types of summer; white and dark.
White summers are those full of lawn and linen, the sea and soft sunshine, cherries and children’s smiles, in which you feel disconnected and light, almost floating, dreamy and distant in a haze of white dandelion fluff. You don’t ever want to land.
Dark summers are honeyed and sulky, full of pomegranates, thunderstorms, magnolias and un-kept promises. Cinematic and shadowy, you exist in a trance of melancholy, and feel passionately, though feign detachment. Pandora opens the box, and lightning fills the sky.*
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 12:27 AM UTC
She lives in the green room.
Where the curt air's laying thick.
Walls like apple crumble.
Cracking to the resonance of the latest passing train.
A box of tricks and secrets held,
within her PC brain.
Halo of electric light.
It's aura, hanging on the arty ceiling,
like a sulky angel would.
She's killing time for company.
She mutters to her ego,
awaiting it's response.
It's response is somehow null and void.
The lady's confidence destroyed.
Hit round the head with all sorts of capers.
Her failings lashed together with cigarette papers.
No pun intended, surely no joke.
Rather bizarre considering the lady doesn't smoke.
(C)LIVVI
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
I crossed a Black Cat's path today,
He stared me down with his Golden Moon-Eyes;
Hushed and Silent Eyes that, still,
Said many words often unheard by human ears,
Even Cat-people, like myself.
An intertwined dare and threat,
Lightly glossed with acknowledgement:
"Cat-person, what are you doing,
To think yourself so inclined
As to cross a Black Cat-Path, such as mine?"
I quickly apologized for my error, and he turned his back,
Already onto some matter of important business.
Thus I got to wondering, as it were,
If perhaps when I crossed his path
It was to him bad luck was brought,
Hence the sulky look of the poor Black Cat…
Sep 20, 2010
Sep 20, 2010 at 12:26 PM UTC
The path long and strenuos
My steps falter and ebb
Ailing, my heart is
Hankering to be set free
Lost and battered to the demon in me
A sulky weary being hides
Praying for divinity
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC