Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jude Oct 2017
I listen to the worst music, and you know
I wanna capture you inside the songs I throw
Spitwads at the back of your head
Insisting on the dark of the dead
I'm pining to make it back to your embrace
I wanna slap the smile off your stupid face
Come on, chase me, you're it and I'm in for the long haul
You're it and I'm gonna crash or I'm gonna fall
I'm at your mercy but the mercy is mine
Laying the trail for you is **** divine
We're far, we're close, we're the hit before the overdose
We're drawing you in, again, now we're comatose
All or nothing, we're black or white or somewhere in between
We're Pleasantville, we're Brand New, we're Technicolor, Sheen
You make me dance, you make me dive
You make me feel so ******* alive
In the way a deer feels running from a bear
I live for the chase and I don't care
If I get my way, we'll be young forever
I always get my way, so never say never,
We'll fly three stars to the right and on til morning
and if you choose me, life will never be boring
Let go of your fears and let's sail
We've got eternity on this trail
10/4/2017
Kewayne Wadley Oct 2018
Tag
Maybe tomorrow
I'll admit that I was joking.
Comparatively walking forward.
Pretending I saw what I couldn't.
The rustling of leaves,
Allocation to how far the fall.
The optimism of smiles.
After all, I've know this whole time.
When & where.
Deliberately stealing glances.
The second, third, forth
Consciously known that you'd find me sooner or later.
My role through the renewal of perspective.
Maybe tomorrow you'll forget &
I'll joking walk up to you.
Smile and say "Tag, your it!"
Knowing that you've been it this whole time.
The rustle of leaves growing louder.
Having known that I revealed myself without a word
emzee Aug 2018
It's my heart,
Which made her morning so soccery

It's my eyes
Which she afraid most...her sins are so hidden

It's my ears
Which trust her words not obviously

It's my hand ,
,hold her tightly,even don't knowing she need a rescue
It's my face

That she feds up ...but I didn't know that

It's me
Recently victims the silent betrayal
Lol but somewhat serious
I might seem strong to you,
Truth is,
I'm just too broken to ask for the help I silently need.
How am I still here?
I'm too selfish to remove myself from the equation.
Why are you still here?
Because I lie to myself and tell myself that you are.
Because I'm terrified of losing everything I'll never receive.
Because I live under the assumption that I'm worthless because all past evidence points to it.
Because I'm broken.
And If I ask for help,
I'll probably break you too.
And break myself even further.
Because I'm afraid of everything.
Because I'm not,
Who we think I am.
I secretly hope no one reads this because I don't want you to know how broken I am. I only wrote this so I wouldn't break down and talk to you.
Chris Neilson May 2016
Never really cut the cords
to my mother's apron strings
used to keep my head below the parapet
in among the underlings

Slowly overcoming
the underdog within me
given access to the manager's door
I'd still throw away the key

Feel more Manc than British
never flown a union flag
no pride in ruling waves
life has more than a price tag

Rejecting the governing minority
where those with money have most to gain
representing the downtrodden majority
where my heart and soul is lain
Nat Lipstadt Jan 2014
a  flawless poem
if such there were,
will always be,
the next one

my poor soul,
my rag tag heart
has no censor,
so careless, reckless,
as if words were but
frivolous treasures,
easy spent, easy get

if only, how I wish I
could harvest my best,
with golden cutlery excise
the single flawless poem,
that I know in my possess

lay down this hand so weary
from cupping tears,
be satisfied at long last,
so much so,
that my casket lowered,
hands in repose companioned,
clutching his best, easing the rest,
a paper record to join his ash,
his flawless poem,
at long last
Written in ten minutes when Frivolous Treasure, Ingrid, and SE Reimer
excised it from with me, a triage performed and a poem delivered, fluid and tear wet,  while Mozart's Serenade No. 13 for Strings harmonized what ever music the man has left.

flawless? Perhaps one slightly less flawed.

give us all your names and I will write someday
what my heart knows exists

Words are hopeless, poor substitutes for what they in vain,and we too, we call the heart's decay but this poem give unto me a deeper satisfaction than most...
Susanna Apr 2018
I was too young and too smart
To operate under the illusion that I was capable of love.
But his fingers were so long and slender.
The way they wrapped around the back of my hand.
His palm was soft and smooth.
So cool,
And not at all sweaty
Compared to the rest of the gym.
I never felt butterflies in my stomach.
I never wanted to let go.
Kevin J Taylor Sep 2017
Reminding me
of my first trike

The poetry of
red and white

The poetry of
pedaled motion

Piston footed!
Vision frozen!

Head and hair
gone separate ways!

Freedom found
on Glory Days!

Down the sidewalk
runway riding!

Faster! Faster!
Out of hiding!

Faster! Faster!
Spirit! Gliding!

Faster! Faster!
Up! And free!

My body can’t
catch up with me!

Somewhere in
the days between

I left my trike in
rusty scenes

Traded life
for lesser stuff

Left the trike
and kept the rust

Until a friend
came to my door

With gamesy thoughts
that life is more

Than failed hopes
and rusty bits—

Pointing skyward!
Tag! You’re it!
.
s Aug 2018
Hi there.
Sometimes it hurts to think.
I'm driving around in my hometown
I saw this old park that me and my friends would run and laugh and play at all the time.
We played cops and robbers
Lava Monster
Freeze tag
We acted like knights in strong armor and princesses with glittery dresses and we all slayed the dragons
Well now here I am staring at this old swing set that no one swings on anymore.
I used to think that I could touch the clouds with my feet if I swung high enough.
There is something so lively about a group of kids laughing and playing on a playground.
There is something so eerie about an old empty playground where no one goes.
That playground used to be so alive.
Now the swing creaks as it sways in the slight breeze.
You can almost hear faint whispers of the kids laughing from years before.
Now all those kids are adults with lives and responsibilities that are much more important than slaying a dragon.
The wood has splinters that get stuck in your fingers.
It is not shiny and fun anymore.
It used to be new
But I have found that everything changes eventually.
I wish people didn't leave so unexpectedly.
Anyways I am just rambling
but next time you see a playground
just try to look away.
it hurts to think too long
Bye.
I am so sad. So many people keep dying
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2015
this is a very important poem to me,
about me, and how Obama slurred my people. and never apologized

<•>

there are mornings when I wake up
in my nativity,
in my born/bred,
these struggling to be happy,
United States,
strangely hebrew-speaking,
Jamaican coffee
morning-thinking,
tallying up
what I am,
who I am,
commanded to be,
on this Earth

the labels that the
outward-looking apply,
the tags,
that you have caused
yourself to be defined,
been staked
to your claim,
in infamy and in fame,
that you have
by action and indeed,

have allow
to be presented
as entries on your
global entry passport,
with visas from the
lows and highs,
places where
your have sinned and saved,
all the acts accumulated,
and those,
in pain,
you have been a witness to

word titles that
tinge and suffuse,
summation of my presentation,
sampler of words
like
father, poet,
American,
even,
a for-real
community organizer,
and of course,
bien sûr,
a
Jew

the quality of all these life's papers,
which I grade myself,
I,
the harshest marker
of all

once a young man,
safely away in college,
under the fresh-air freedom of the
university's in loco parentis,
in the early years
spent quantifying oneself

nearly fifty years ago,
now he,
revealed and recalled
when
his college typed-letter,
lately uncovered amidst his,
recently passed mother's papers

"Don't know what kind of
Jew
I will be, but be assured,
that I will be a
Jew
all my life"

so here I am doing my post-sabbath,
top of the week,
right it down,
qualifying myself,
coffee enraged engaged,
a new Sunday tally

taking all my terms,
reordering,
re-prior-itizing,
what was prior, first,
is no longer

decades decay,
events sway,
simple words change me, stain me

nearing on five decades later,
when this
son of speakers,
son of humanists and 
son of
 writers,
son of proud
Jews
rewrites his list

today I write/substitute,
a new order,
a tag gladly taken,
a marker given,
some what in pride,
some in shame too,
first and foremost,
à la manière d'Lincoln
I am
of, by and for

"a bunch of folks in a deli"

proud member of them
that so identify,
for they are among those
that shall not perish from the Earth

those
happenstance-not,
bunch of folks in a deli,
I claim as
mine own,
as they would
have claimed me

no subtly professed,
a diminishment intended,
and now
an honorific taken,
Medal of Honor provoked and embraced,
proudly inscribed,
visible on my forehead,
in the black ink of mourning,
a Presidential Cain Citation,
a tattoo of letters,
not numbers,
now moves up to
head of the list,
I am
now and forever,
a member of that corps
(appreciate that double entendre)
I am
Je suis
JE JUIF

*"a bunch of folks in a deli"
Just google that phrase

Obama’s slur
zebra Aug 2016
on the first date
she confided in me
i have a chromosomal disorder, disorder, disorder
i need love and pain strangely mixed together
my elixirs
i suffer reality distoooorrtions
a ghastly Vatican of ****** compulsions
my soul is black matter
my **** a seething cauldron of despicable desire
my *** cries for homicidal cruelty

mold me into a *******
fold me like a two dollar beach chair
the wrong way
tear me to bits
unwind my intestine
eat me like a blood ******* ghoul
make me squirm like an anime victim

i thought oh finally a soul mate
with soul

strange as a Dionysian mad hatter on hallucinogenics
hot girl creeping
grimacing at me
meandering conjurations by ****** contortions
stunning impersonations of a Fellini impaling
shes a famous artist
keeps broodish bowels and blood tampons in stainless vitrines
spot lighted
ready for her debut at the
Museum of Modern Art

she blows torrents of snot like ****
her beautiful desperate tongue searching the upper lip
a salty runny viscoses snack
oozy
finding it finally with her frenetic tongue
feeding her gooey ****
with wet fingers
oh yummy yum goo
up her *** too

first smiling then hideous scowls
exposed teeth
posing with a knife
wana see me cut my self bad boy, she taunts
wana see my impersonation of pizza with extra tomato sauce

blood blood *** in the be in the bed
wipe it up with ****** bread

some how she miraculously bulges her eyes out
then performs, ******* lips as if a minnow in a fish jar

pointing to her ***
giving me that **** hurt me twisted look
how about a peanut butter jelly ******* sandwich
with a side of ****** feet
**** and **** on toes
its especially prized this day of the month
as her **** tears like a vampires mouth, a torrent of blood
pouting **** with white red stained thighs that break a mans heart
*** nothing at all she quips
just a little accident
do you like it?
as she glares like an invitation
to play slip and slide bare foot in her puddle of blood

oh she made me *****
my cherry red **** having a nervous breakdown
from apoplectic horror gasms
a dose of heavens hell

i want her
she is voluptuous like a dozen venomous snakes
copulating in warm soup dark water everglades
she is slither theater

curdling screams
then muggling *******
brought on by the first belly stab
falling to her knees
looking up shocked
mouth gaping
eyes wide
grinning
glance steady
holding holding holding
the belly cut
a cacophonous modern dance of agony
followed by rapturous convulsing *******
that went on and on and on

get a bat she implored

she is a real ******* movie star
the Greta Garbo of *****
a dark jewel
a must have
a hell wife
goddess of dread
a ******* *** genius
my best girl ever

fused by desire
we kissed like **** loving catholic priests
in adoration of their savior
young boy *** castrato hitting the high notes


she looked up with desperation
eyes with glittering tears
and said
are you my black knight?
do you know how to hurt a girl
are you my
Vex Mallus
Dr Satan
Marquis De Sick
Nick Nick
Dark Officer
Remus the Werewolf
Dom Sugar Daddy
Pit Bull
Tommy the Tummy Gutter
5 o'clock Shadow
London Cabby
Amputee ******
Uncle Surgery Gone Wrong
King of the Carpathian Vampires
my sweet kissy Kitten

ooohh yes i said
i am all that for loves sake
albeit twisted
i am what you crave.. your no taboo lover boy
your ******* licking foot slave with a razor in hand
a bubble of poison between my legs
your homicidal suicidal cockealiciousness

she said good,
now that we have that settled
can we go out for dinner
ill be dressed in a jiffy
if i can find my dead skirt
of soft white gauze
with that lovely motif of dread red
and my precious toe tag jewelery
My poems remain explorations of the subconscious ******
If i where a film maker or a novelist  you  would see me telling a story, not judge me, although i admit to my paraphilias  
These poems  are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive  impulses we all share
Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about and then again  you may feel more complete some how if you do....I always loved that dark thing that sleeps with in me
King Panda Mar 2016
soon I found
where you wrote those words
on the back of your hand
soon I found
the black planet
where you reside
soon I found
a child’s sickness
and the comfort it takes
to make one whole
soon I found
that you went with him
with a Salisbury steak
and a name tag that read
husband
soon I found a hole
dug by a badger
I donned its claws with my fingers
I carved a toilet in the corner
I drew your face on the ceiling
soon I found
I was an animal
a boy
alone
soon I found
I was never to be conceived
I was never without legs and feet
I was never meant to
climb out of the black star
soon I found
I would be without you
forever
PoserPersona Jun 2018
Yes, it's seemingly a nonsensical rhetorical question, but, for that precise reason, it will illustrate a lesson, if you so desire to tag along for this short session.

Per Wikipedia, "The horse (Equus ferus caballus) is one of two extant subspecies of Equus ferus. It is an odd-toed ungulate mammal belonging to the taxonomic family Equidae." Hmmm... I much prefer that the horse goes "Nay," eats hay, has a mane, and is ridden by cowboys, cowgirls, Indians, equestrians, knights, jockeys, conquistadors, Mongols, and all. Even better, just point a horse out or otherwise show a picture to a kid and they will never be mistaken again. Even the littlest ones will never be stumped when faced with a rhino, tiger, giraffe, camel, and such.

Admittedly, there is a worry that we could be fooled with that of a donkey or mule. How come no one has taken advantage of this?! What a scam to get us rich! "Duh doy," you say, cause we all know when we see a horse, so why would anyone try to trick us with an ***?! Well I ask you in turn, why does anyone try to trick us with good art versus bad, let alone art versus crap? How could anyone fall for that?!
johannah Apr 13
speckled
with contradictions
and hazed silly fictions
it races at brushed
fingertips,
the soft touches of lips
it longs to feel home,
in a world so far
from its own
there’s a fluffy cat
with white paws
that does not yet exist
in my life
and a song playing so softly
like the breeze
of a summer afternoon
em Nov 2015
Anger is a little boy in a ripped jacket
who plays tag with Stability too close to a cliff.

Confusion is a child with tangled hair and a purple shirt
who enjoys running circles around Content turning
her flower crowns into razor blades.

Depression is a pale girl with sad eyes who plays
red light green light with Happiness near that old garden
they called Eden who lately seems to be dying.
Hello lovely people! I hope you enjoy!!!
sandra dryer Nov 2018
were playing tag
having fun
were screaming
but were smiling
were laughing so much
that were crying
"tag your it"!

but then they grew older
we went our separate ways
i thought we were best friends forever
but things changed
i couldn't let go

"i'm not playing!"
"get out lets have some fun"!
"you'll never leave again
once i'm done"!
she wasn't smiling anymore
and i was laughing so much
she was crying
but then they stopped
i was crying

"tag .. your it...."
Sonia Ettyang Sep 2018
You're a grim reaper
Looking for a soul to devour
A mind to hack and a body to axe
Your empty eyes and that evil smile
Can't hide the fact that you're dead inside
You got the Jezebel vibes
Sound like a saint and feels like the devil
Forbidden is your tag
Dead and gone, your heart's nowhere to be found
Luring innocent souls into your empty shell
Got that charm that disarms
You're a grim reaper
A grim reaper
© Sonia Ettyang
Cunning Linguist Nov 2013
Loaded down with swag, you could say I got some baggage
Now tag me in your post - host server overload with traffic
Havoc, I smashed it I'm smokin on that hash **** its magic I'm laughin,
***** where the **** my brain go?
Oh I know **** I got so braindead before I wrote this
I'm monumental, moving boulders
Deport this *****, jumpin borders
Spit my lyrics so hot just like you was sippin Folger's
Burn your tongue? I burned my face,
You in a race?
Huh, ***** don't even try to run

Your nightmares are my fantasy
I make your dreams rip at the seams
Best believe it I'm the reason
You be losing sleep
Unfeasibly
Freddy who? Man **** that dude
This ain't no ****** "Elm Street"
11-12 Better check yourself
**** with me I killed it
You're in my world now *****

And grab your crucifix
Ha! AND PRAY TO GOD *****

Oh ****, break in the beat
I can't be defeated so don't leave your seat
So many drugs my heart feels complete
Lungs replete with the cloud of a thousand burning trees
Smokeapalooza, my brains on vacation
maybe it's a factor, all the inhalation
Snoozing you loser?
Got it going on,
Got more bombs than a marathon in Boston
AND IF YOU THINK THAT **** WASN'T A FALSE FLAG GO BACK TO SLEEP

I'm a self confessed bongaholic by definition
Cro-Magnon, I'm stone-age in terms of cognition
though hopefully I can get some ignition, generate some sparks
My colorful rhymes stand in stark contrast
against this black and white palette
all these so called artists paint with
Oh and blunts are great, ******* Wiz Khalifa
pearl another one and I'm feelin golden
withholding nothin, so I'm puffin til I'm huffin

straight baked like space muffins
something you can't relate or replicate,
so don't defame, or deface my status as
realest ***** in the rap game
no malarkey;
you have a better chance swimming with sharks b

breaking bad
take a line of that Walter White to my head
til my brains are frying like eggs at breakfast
hear just a little sizzling
**** bro I'ma wake up dead

David Banner he don't know swag
Lil' B holla that he own swag
Overflowin with all these newfags
I /b/ like :bitchplease: I ******* made swag

I'm beautiful man super cool
and all all the ******* love me
most popular boy in school
I have everything I want
it seems -
in my dreams,
******* **** me
My ADD is so infuriating
which is at least partially
why my primary hobbies
are screaming rapping and smoking ****
Justin G Jun 2015
When she hid
I went out to look for her
I did not feel like playing
But she swore I was joking

All I wanted was for her to stay
But it's only a game
It's only a game
Is what she would often say
But if only she knew how lonely I felt
Then maybe she wouldn't think the same

By the time I found her
She went skinny dipping
Despite knowing I couldn't swim
She still pulled me in
She called me marco
But I was too busy choking
She laughed at me
When I thought she'll rescue me
But instead she left
And unfortunately I was right

I didn't drown
but when I awoke
I frowned because
She was playing tag
With other men

I guess this is it
Joel A Doetsch Aug 2012
I'm terribly lost

It seems that every fork
that I encounter
on this road of life
I choose the one
that puts me further from my goal

Everyone else seems to know where they're going
It's really quite frustrating.

Do I really have that bad a sense of direction?

I've been looking for you for years
The one I can give my heart to
It's here
in this box
all *******
with fancy twine and tissue paper.
It has a tag on it that says "From:  Hopelessly in Love"
I haven't filled out the To: yet

I will once I find you

I want to meet you
I want to become your friend
I want to fall in love
I want the feeling of your hand in mine
I want lazy summer days spent laying on the grass with you (just watching the clouds drift by)
I want frosty winter nights curled in a blanket with you (sipping hot cocoa in my arms)
I want to smile for no other reason than because
you are happy
I want to share your fears and sorrows because
no one should have
to bear them alone

I want to find the one
who is worthy of this affection
who is worthy of my time
who is worthy of my love

I will present my heart to you
when I find you

If I find you....

...I hope I find you
Next page