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"sussed" poems
We all want to be liked To have people see The version of ourselves We choose to be And say, yeah That's someone I admire I aspire to be like We all want someone To look back on The snapshots we've accrued Over years of holidays, ***** nights, And picture perfect food And say, look Here's someone who's got things sussed We all want someone To validate our lives To comment that we're doing just fine You're great You're pretty Your smart Well, I guess that's a good start We all want someone To click that **** thumb And validate the effort Of keeping the mask on
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Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 3:07 AM UTC
'Social' Media
You've been watching them eat Why would you? Their gnashing teeth slurping, crushing ******* the cheese off their fingers Messy, screaming faces Jaws snapping on sticks Waiting & devouring Bending back heads The crack of dislocation Your friends know it was your fault So, who do you blame? Oh, but the wonder in those eyes Why could she never share? You think she wasn't made for her How it was sussed out before you knew The string's cut, though still she dances We all hide in another skin But the floor was flooded The ceiling leaked before Trapped within a guise Never will they find him How could they eat so close to you? How could you watch? Why would you?
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Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 9:37 PM UTC
Watching You Eating Me
I'm out of my ******* depth here. I really don't know what to say. I hate you, lets stop this, I don't care. But I loved you yesterday. I want to slow it down now. I'm scared, I really am. I'm scared that I'm consumed in this thing, And you don't give a **** But I ******* love the attention. Don't stop, give up and say bye. Cos this hesitation is temporary, I just want to see if you'll try. So hold me tight and squeeze me. Tell me you want me so bad. Grab me and push me against the wall, Scare me, but only a tad. Warm me up with your body. Talk to me with your hips. Power me with a hand on my **** And ruin my neck with your lips. But please remember I'm willing, To leave this whole thing behind. Don't tell me you want more, you're lying. Don't stay here just to be kind. Don't watch me as I fall asleep, It makes me feel adored and so safe, And I wont ever feel like that for long, I will not allow it, incase. But the touch of your lips on my forehead, Gives an overwhelming feeling of trust, And the way that we talk till the sun comes up, And the way that you have me all sussed.   Should I stay though I'm frightened or bail? In my mind is a constant debate. I can feel you tempting my guard down now. I can feel it's already too late.
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Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 2:48 PM UTC
Love/Hate
Don't underestimate the power of lust. It can unmake you Unmask you Bury good intentions in a landslide of overwhelming want. You switch from sister to ***** Disregarding friendship, family, Faith, hope, happiness, None are a match for the dopamine high. Now you're on a slippery slope, A path to disaster, Tumbling faster, Losing rationality, perspective, judgement, humanity, Succumbing to the hungry beast within. You will resist, you may think you have it sussed, But lust will always win.
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Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 8:22 AM UTC
The power of Lust
Ever since I was a kid in school I messed around with all the rules Apologized, then realized I'm not different after all Me and the boys thought we had is sussed Valentino's all of us My dad said we looked ridiculous But, boy, we broke some hearts In and out of jobs, running free Waging war with society Dumb, blank faces stared back at me But nothing ever changed Promises made in the heat of night Creepin' home before it got too light I wasted all that precious time And blamed it on the wine I was only joking, my dear Looking for a way to hide my fear What kind of fool was I? I could never win Never found a compromise Collected lovers like butterflies Illusions of that grand first prize Are slowly wearin' thin Susie, baby, you were good to me Giving love unselfishly But you took it all too seriously I guess it had to end I was only joking, my dear Looking for a way to hide my fear What kind of fool was I? I could never win Now you ask me if I'm sincere That's the question that I always fear Verse seven is never clear But I'll tell you what you want to hear I try to give you all you want But giving love is not my strongest point If that's the case, it's pointless going on I'd rather be alone 'Cause what I'm doing must be wrong Pouring my heart out in a song Owning up for prosperity For the whole **** world to see Quietly now while I turn a page Act one is over without costume change The principal would like to leave the stage The crowd don't understand..........
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Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 8:11 AM UTC
I Was Only Joking // Rod Stewart
Ever since I was a kid in school I messed around with all the rules Apologized, then realized I'm not different after all Me and the boys thought we had is sussed Valentino's all of us My dad said we looked ridiculous But, boy, we broke some hearts In and out of jobs, running free Waging war with society Dumb, blank faces stared back at me But nothing ever changed Promises made in the heat of night Creepin' home before it got too light I wasted all that precious time And blamed it on the wine I was only joking, my dear Looking for a way to hide my fear What kind of fool was I? I could never win Never found a compromise Collected lovers like butterflies Illusions of that grand first prize Are slowly wearin' thin Susie, baby, you were good to me Giving love unselfishly But you took it all too seriously I guess it had to end I was only joking, my dear Looking for a way to hide my fear What kind of fool was I? I could never win Now you ask me if I'm sincere That's the question that I always fear Verse seven is never clear But I'll tell you what you want to hear I try to give you all you want But giving love is not my strongest point If that's the case, it's pointless going on I'd rather be alone 'Cause what I'm doing must be wrong Pouring my heart out in a song Owning up for prosperity For the whole **** world to see Quietly now while I turn a page Act one is over without costume change The principal would like to leave the stage The crowd don't understand..........
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My chin is ****** in the piles of plastic cups After nibbling myself out, the tables are bused Onward unlatching, mussed my steady cause- she was seducing my balance, I had to adjust She dented concrete when sussed She saw my incision and continuously cut She saw my face when her description didn't fit To be weak, anemic, and homeless I admit it Now that my leash is leaking out of the tub I'll remain spiraling like when in cuffs
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Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 11:21 PM UTC
Balance
Why is there so much distrust, Fueling hatred, malice and lust? We're caught up in every scam's gust Leaving many financially bust Including telemarketers' thrusts Continuously feeding disgust We're riding social media's cusp Allowing real friendships to rust Causing us to constantly adjust Leaving us completely nonplussed Making too many tasks a must Till we nigh spontaneously combust Perhaps leaving God's Word thus, On the shelf gathering dust This matter needs to be sussed Not with haphazard zeal but robust By a brotherhood of people we can trust With a worldwide campaign to discuss Preventing impending zero-sum bust Before we're all planetary dust
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Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 7:17 PM UTC
Distrust
It pains me to see you so far away, Like pots in a kiln you're formed from the clay, You're shaped & reworked until you're not the same, Transformed completely and fixed in the flame. Now I feel nothing you're no different from dust, All of us changed it eroded our trust, Equal parts blame on either of us, Toxic for each other do we have it sussed. We turned from each other won't turn on each other, Stronger together we learn from each other, But better apart as we lean on each other, We're breaking our hearts we're mean to each other. Life doesn't change it just trades our trials, People don't learn and lovers become rivals, Age doesn't teach you can journey for miles, A broken mosaic we're made up of tiles.
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Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 8:37 PM UTC
Broken Mosiac
the beliefs you ***** in your mind meet each other's corners and become walls, halls and buildings. like in city streets. what's left are small passages where dust and debris collect and gather as if for communion. acid rain from above pays homage to the world, each drop in a puddle; another donation to the collection plate. the ebb and flow of happenings leave their watermark.. high and low, their stain and filth. the polluted contents stagnate, laid upon stucko or brick.  and you'd have to really lean your head back to get perspective on all of this **** your monuments tower, derelict but something you call your own. so very important because they are now your home. and home is not where the heart is in this city of sin. you're disgusting, you are filth, your dignity: you bend. you're ashamed of all that would make this right, but you laugh at the light. all it's ever done for you is lay rays upon your despicableness. it wasn't always like this but now you relish the dark, it's harder to tell if that's sweat or tears. laying in wait, while all your demons comfortably spin their wheels and weave their tapestries while you sleep and after your slumber you look upon the travesty that is done for you. the clouds move in, in your mouth a weird taste, and with the last spit in your jaw you mutter **** this ********* place"
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Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 9:04 PM UTC
all sussed out
Granted its slanted but my purview's pervasive Third eye lens changed perspectives rearrange Engaging the plebeians   never dawn so little do Get a grip and deal with it I know its ****** up Corrupt, unjust Needs sussed @~_~@ |
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Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 5:17 PM UTC
Subliminal-D
(In Honour of Prof. Buchi Emecheta) For the joy of consciousness I read you countless I smelt your grievance   I felt your episodes   Scenes and synopsis you took from the stages to the pages. Sussed from a bitter side of womanhood A world growing wild like tendrils To be or not to be; Africa must have been accursed Smuggled through the ditch of venoms by her neighbours. The voice of the voiceless second-class citizens Ọnyèbụchi Emèchetá ..You lit a candle In the dark room of dejection and whispers ..You broke the silence and spoke loudly; that even the heavens could hear you. To the ring that betrays the fist ..the sheep that bleeds by the sword of its shepherd To the dreams that were murdered in cold-blood The falsettos that misrepresent womanhood ..and the narratives that quells Africanism You spoke!!! © A. O. Nwulia Literary Diary 2017
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Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 3:22 AM UTC
The Woman, Her Chronicles
How it was grass greened for little feet, tickled by their absurd bursts of joy. As between tinklings time sussed out a sun, and the cheeks of chummy cherubs dimpled like embedded kisses. Good as good graces may be in, a child for all the world stood--newly made, round as play. Then one day in its sad, slow way... something shadowed play. What sunk that sinking feeling, and turned magic on its head? What left a laden cloud to blankly hug a dreamless field?
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May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 8:49 PM UTC
Something Shadowed Play
(for Alice Bridgwood) At some point, we simply say to hell with it: Whether undone by the shortcomings at our craft Or by the simple bulk of our mere humanity, We come to the conclusion that certain mysteries of the universe Shall remain exactly that—oh, we’ll still have The odd glimpse of the Platonic, The glimmering flicker of epiphany Bestowed upon us a few frames at a time, Grainy and Zapruder-esque, But, by and large, we will remain sheepish As some television weatherman who, Though ostensibly trained to understand the behaviors Of sluggish storms making their way lugubriously from the Southwest Or brisk mid-February Alberta lows, Must admit he, too, was bamboozled By the sudden deluge or foot-plus of snow. What, then, do we make of one To whom the inscrutable calculus of the spheres Is an open book, as simple as connect-the-dots Or some child’s paint-by-numbers (But augmented with shading and shadow Until the picture is not simple rote coloring But something else, something finer and all her own), Whose words move us to follow where she may lead, Like medieval peasants, dirt poor and bewitched, Who flocked to the Holy Land Following the charismatic little shepherd child, All hayseed and bucolic charm (Yet all of that simply myth arriving whole cloth, A mish-mash of sloppy scholarship and errant translation; She’d have sussed it in an instant) Hoping that some smattering of his grace Would trickle down upon them, Not unlike the prayer of the farmer, His lands parched and salted, hearing thunderstorms Rumbling in terrible grandeur in the distance, Hopes the odd drop or two reaches his fields.
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Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 9:23 AM UTC
One For Alice
(for Alice Bridgwood) At some point, we simply say to hell with it: Whether undone by the shortcomings at our craft Or by the simple bulk of our mere humanity, We come to the conclusion that certain mysteries of the universe Shall remain exactly that—oh, we’ll still have The odd glimpse of the Platonic, The glimmering flicker of epiphany Bestowed upon us a few frames at a time, Grainy and Zapruder-esque, But, by and large, we will remain sheepish As some television weatherman who, Though ostensibly trained to understand the behaviors Of sluggish storms making their way lugubriously from the Southwest Or brisk mid-February Alberta lows, Must admit he, too, was bamboozled By the sudden deluge or foot-plus of snow. What, then, do we make of one To whom the inscrutable calculus of the spheres Is an open book, as simple as connect-the-dots Or some child’s paint-by-numbers (But augmented with shading and shadow Until the picture is not simple rote coloring But something else, something finer and all her own), Whose words move us to follow where she may lead, Like medieval peasants, dirt poor and bewitched, Who flocked to the Holy Land Following the charismatic little shepherd child, All hayseed and bucolic charm (Yet all of that simply myth arriving whole cloth, A mish-mash of sloppy scholarship and errant translation; She’d have sussed it in an instant) Hoping that some smattering of his grace Would trickle down upon them, Not unlike the prayer of the farmer, His lands parched and salted, hearing thunderstorms Rumbling in terrible grandeur in the distance, Hopes the odd drop or two reaches his fields.
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They say it’s been empty for quite some time, But I’ve seen a flickering torch, Late at night when the moon is bright The light is red on the porch. And shadows move by the hedgerows there Like spectres that flit in the night, The door will creak as the seekers seek, While the blinds are pulled down tight. And something creaks where the attic peaks It could be a number of things, A flutter of leaves, the wind in the eaves Or the sound of some old bed springs. The neighbours hide and they stay inside When the Moon comes up on the rise, They say no way can the children play, It would be a blot on their eyes. For Elspeth comes as the sun goes down In a skirt as short as can be, With fishnet tights in both blacks and whites, They say she’s brewing the tea. Perhaps they’re playing Canasta there Or playing for poker chips, They may be dancing the night away, She sure has a dancer’s hips. Whatever it is they do in there I’ll have to go in to find, The state of play that they do each day At Numero sixty-nine. I’ll stay nonplussed till I get it sussed, I wonder what it could be? It’s just my luck, if I go to look, I’ll catch her brewing the tea. David Lewis Paget
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Jun 18, 2017
Jun 18, 2017 at 11:14 PM UTC
At Numero 69
So you think you know the reason why it is that we're all here? You think you've got it sussed and that it's crystal clear? But what you fail to realize is that you don't know who to trust. The people who have taught us are also made of dust. You're strong in your convictions; you never doubt the facts. You read the science books but don't inspect the cracks. You back your suppositions; hold strong to your beliefs. But have you ever smoked a joint and doubted all your briefs? Life is not at all what it at first appears to be. All you need to show that is some archaeology. Gaze up at the stars at night, or the moon during the day; check out Machu Picchu and reflect on what you say. We'd be pretty ****** foolish; and equally naive; to place all our bets on the lies that people weave. I don't mean that in a mean way, or disrespectfully; it's meant to show my love and camaraderie. And hey, I know, that sounds real cocky, 'cause I've no monopoly on truth. But I've got something tangible that's both evidence and proof. If you want to hang a while I'm happy to expound; I'll blow your mind and steal your heart and shake your faithless ground. © Canadian Cowboy _________________________________
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Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 11:59 AM UTC
LIFE
time marches on reality's fire consumes— dreams go up in smoke Dishonest weights, deceptive scales forsake as chains of injustice rake the flesh of the preyed-upon bleeding, amid wild wolves feeding, soft sheep bleating, protestor's pleading, jurisdictions cheating, cajoling, wheedling, injustice repeating— jurisprudence at the confluence of affluence and influence ~undocumented lies exhumed unmitigated truth entombed~ They have their thumb on the scale! We have sussed every detail on the field of debris, some so fiercely taking a knee, others shot trying to flee! "I can't breathe," "I don't care!" Why don't they care? Of what justice is meting beware! One higher than the highest is watching, waiting to signal the one riding to conquer and complete his conquest. What's the true future view? What more can we do before we become past tense? tragedies worldwide flooding my senses daily— fill my bag of tears © 2020 Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
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Jun 18, 2020
Jun 18, 2020 at 11:09 AM UTC
Justice for All
Shackles of my eternal prison, the chains I bear are translucent, it doesn't really matter what I do, life is a dice game, my dice are loaded, I sit back and think about my past and my future, I can't figure out my internal plight, why am I treated like this, I'm a whimpering dog in the cold steel night, tossed aside and forgotten, my candlelight sussed out, confines of my being don't really have much meaning, tried to find my way, love cut me down, my pursuit of life, executed on sight, my bloodthirsty hell the fire of passion raging inside, extinguished by my hunger, my famine of love, everything's broken, my paper mache soul, a smashed porcelain doll, my whitering heart, a slave to my shattered devotion, sentenced to a life of hard labored desire, a quivering caste system of worship, nothing but dust in the end, the stars cry for me, I had all I ever needed, I had her, now she's gone, I'll find solace in death, empty living, nothing left
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Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 5:42 AM UTC
Jail
Oh the rollercoaster of life With its ups and downs, Thrills and spills, Each day different from the last. You think you’ve sussed it, Contentedly cruising, Enjoying the view, Until the devil rears his ugly head And with a crooked smile exclaims “Enough of this sickening joy, We need mischief and mayhem, Carnage and chaos” And without even a by your leave Turns your world upside down once more
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Mar 17, 2021
Mar 17, 2021 at 7:20 PM UTC
The Rollercoaster
She's Sussed us out now!               The cats out of the bag...                  Which makes me upset                      And awfully sad.                  Caught in a lovers tryst                In a seedy little pub                 " very cosy" she sarcastically said.                     As we're caught in the act!                     We're as guilty as hell..                         And that's a fact!                     She turns on her her heels                     And exits the room                  The look on you're face                     Is all gloom and doom                      I burst into tears                      Reliving the scene                  Somehow it makes me feel                  Somewhat unclean               He puts a reassuring arm around me                      And takes my hand                           And says..                     " l know this isn't quitewhat we'd planned"                       " leave her to me"                          I'tll be alright"                     " I'll sort it"...               Once I get home tonight"!                    " well there's no need for you                        To leave early now"                            He said                     " let's have another drink                     And go back to you're place"?                      " for a nightcap? I think"....
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Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 10:51 AM UTC
Deceit( Colin)
She's Sussed us out now!               The cats out of the bag...                  Which makes me upset                      And awfully sad.                  Caught in a lovers tryst                In a seedy little pub                 " very cosy" she sarcastically said.                     As we're caught in the act!                     We're as guilty as hell..                         And that's a fact!                     She turns on her her heels                     And exits the room                  The look on you're face                     Is all gloom and doom                      I burst into tears                      Reliving the scene                  Somehow it makes me feel                  Somewhat unclean               He puts a reassuring arm around me                      And takes my hand                           And says..                     " l know this isn't quitewhat we'd planned"                       " leave her to me"                          I'tll be alright"                     " I'll sort it"...               Once I get home tonight"!                    " well there's no need for you                        To leave early now"                            He said                     " let's have another drink                     And go back to you're place"?                      " for a nightcap? I think"....
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