"tims" poems
I cant wait to speak to you now
To see your face
Your my home
Your what i know
And when i said i hated you
It wasnt true
But i do hate what youve done to me
I hate that i love you
A little bit
A lot
Now
Now when i feel crazy
And then actually
Then when i said i hated you, cos i was crazy, cos i love you, and thats what this love has done to me, made me crazy, an thats what i hate.
Oh and now
Because your away and i cant see you and feel you and make you laugh, i really want to make you laugh
And see your smile
And taste your lips
And make you ***
I fantasise daily
About how im gonna tie you up and make you *** the night you get back
In reality il probably be shy
But i have friends, i have hobbies, i have important **** to do for **** sake
But im sitting here, missing you
Writing this
Recording shows and films on the box for us to watch together when you get back
The notebook
We have to watch the notebook
And im fine
Dont get me wrong im fine, i get to sleep okay
And im chillin, seein people, might see matt this week, talking to didi an toe, seeing family
Im fine, please dont get a big ego
But im just not
Home
Im not tingly
Or excited
I cant explain it
I dont have you
I dont have you in my arms an sometimes that makes me sad
And then i start thinking about all the things that iv done wrong
And all these great things im gonna do when ur back
I am, im going to appreciate you more
And im going to play cool a bit more
Dont know how im gonna do both
But i am
Im gonna appreciate you because i want to,
Because i look back on this short time weve been together and so many things that you have done for me make me smile, make me so grateful and make me so happy. Like the cash machine one :) and staying at my house when i was at work, and being patient when i dont know what to wear(corfu and tims)
And all this makes me think, **** What have i ever done for this boy
He is amazing and he loves me, **** knows why but he does and its insane
Oh and then im gonna play it cool, thats right
Im gonna play it cool because i dont want to ruin it
I dont want to show too much
Of my feelings of absolute passionate never-before-felt-like-this love!
And i dont want those nice things you do to stop
I dont want you to stop trying
Because its boring
Because you know youve got me
Got me ignoring other guys texts
Got me thinking about no one else but you
Got me absorbed in you
Got me missing you like crazy, writing stupid love notes at midnight, drinking rose on my own, when i havnt seen you for a mere two weeks
That kindov got me
Thats what you cant know
So im gonna miss you
But then im gonna see you
Soon
Soon im gonna wrap my whole body around yours like a vice
I wanna jump on you, i wanna run an jump when i see you like we used to do in the corridor of galbraith
Even tho i know im so heavy
You dont act like i am
And i wanna bury my head deep in your neck and kiss it
And now i cant write anymore
Cos its too much
So il watch kardashians
Take my mind of you
Not long now and il be home
I mean, you'll be home.
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 8:49 PM UTC
Blue streaks shew across the sky.
Manic days and semper fi.
Red dawn smashes out the sea.
Honor is all I claim to be.
Though I love and feel like saintly.
I reek, timorous, spineless and dainty.
But I have no respect for you!
Till we are in court, tried and true
It was the world, the world of defeat.
I planted my flag on a daisy and creek.
On a light dominion of my summerhouse place.
There sit, the lovely Welterman case.
Weltermans family gathered in boon.
Farewell to a daughter, a motherly loon.
I killed her. There. I said it okay?
But don't blame me, she was just in my way.
On a cold summer day, and a hot summer night.
Cicadas bizzled but hardly struck a fright.
Daisy lay sleeping, sweet next to me.
Leaving behind her unfinished dreams
But lo and behold, an undertaker.
Ruinous desire, I decided to take her.
My confession means nothing, my killing, an iota.
So love would not infect Alexander of Macedonia.
Down the throat and across the sea.
Of loquacious gelatinous sanctimony.
I'll cut deep without thinking, I'll slash without aversion.
Ophelia and her love is a tainted **********
I bathed in the blood and cried myself silly.
She only deserved death, that ***** old filly.
No more would Welterman reek of my sin.
To lower a king, to a peasantly Tim.
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 2:59 AM UTC
There I sat with a cast and black eye
Just got small children down for the night
Tim decided to take tots for a swim
"Over my dead body", I yelled at him
We discussed our views in loud voices
Continued to fight, made bad choices
Very soon Westminsters finest pulled up
Domestic situation, cops abrupt
Got both sides of story, mine in jest
Smart *** me, I was soon under arrest
Handcuffed, shoved into waiting squad car
Was pissed-cussed at my treatment so far
"I want your badge number", I threatened the cop
Ill sue for false arrest, and no I won't stop
Assault and battery on who, on Tim?
Refused to put out cig, didn't touch him
Got booked, printed and a soggy sack lunch
Wore old lady ****** rode up in a bunch
In population still in cast with black eye
The word spread around that I battered a guy
I crutched my way across shiny jail floor
Eyes following me as if to implore
Came up on a woman, looked like a ****
Then she asked, **** girl what's he look like?"
Got released next day, had court appearance
Plead not guilty with no interference
Set date for jury trial of my peers
Never been in court in all of my years
With public defender at defendants table
Jury looked at me as if I were unable
To batter, assault a serious offense
I was so small, this did not make much sense
I bravely testified on my own behalf
Brought up Tims prior abuse, hid a laugh
OBJECTION YOUR HONOR, spouted DA
Too late, the jury heard what I had to say
They filed out to deliberation space
Came back in fifteen, looked Tim in the face
The judge read the verdict, not guilty at all I was a free woman and skipped down the hall
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 10:42 AM UTC
Lisas and Cheryls in halter tops walk the
Halls of Stoughton High full
Throttle, coiffed fleece fiercely feathered,
Tonys and Tims trawling in tow, toting
Texts.
Tims and Tonys slip
Slyly away, skip shop, talk
**** **** a doob behind
Bob’s Baitshop’s garbage dunes, tunes of
Geils and Seeger and Stones, applaud
Lisas and Cheryls, laud deserving
Donnas and Dianes (but dude, don’t
Let on!)
See,
A solitary Tony takes to one shapely
Cheryl’s sultry swagger, staggers, blathers
His rathers, turning her hair’s fair feathers
A-flair, she helping his hand higher up her hip, her
Cup, her concupiscent luscious lower lemon-lacquered lip, he agog, a *****
Dog with a bone. And a libidinous loner
Lisa prefers a particular turgid Tim, digs
His Doors tee tucked
In to tight tan cords, affords
Herself a longer linger as his fingers
Dangle, thick thumbs hooked in belt. Looked at,
Felt, ***** his hip, flips a nod, draws a
Sneer, paws her rear, she his
Haunch, he steady and
Staunch, Steady and
Staunch
Not gonna
Launch
Steady
gawdamnsunuvabitch!
Thaws the sneer
Right there.
High gears it outta here.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 5:44 PM UTC
The country is ******
No need to stand on ceremony,
eloquency can take a backseat,
because the country is
F. U. C. K-ed.
The innocence of your youth yells,
as it is mashed between the ****** gritty, fingers of reality.
The faces that entertained the nation,
now assess success by how many kids they've touched,
rather than how many lives.
Parasitic politicians nesting on their mother,
'de-mock-racy',
mocking the masses
with two digits raised,
pass it of as a V.
For victory.
But wash away the Crocodile smiles,
and it stands for something a little less inspiring.
Violence?
Victimizing?
Misers of moneyless citizens,
sitting in,
a generation of tiny Tims,
because the oligarchy hordes,
the power and our sense.
The problem is we allow it.
Yeah the country is ******
But so are we...
"Yeah but what can we do?"
Well...
Now you're asking the right questions...
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 1:42 PM UTC
Lori,
Logan,
Jodi,
Jojo,
Hilda,
Weeping Willow
and two Tims!
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
Her camel Tims hit a slick
Of black ice
Pan-caked to the curb
By February's fickle frost
She slipped
But didn't fall....
Gathering her cool interrupted
And all,
She pointed a manicured finger skywards,
Fixed her wig
And resumed her shuffling jig
To Van Siclen,
Evading winter's treachery...
With an assist
From her guardian angel
Dancing on a cloud over Brownsville.
~ Pablo (2/17/14)
(#IDIB)
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 8:46 AM UTC
I hate that your not there when I need you the most
Waiting for you so long my mashed low cud roast
I began to seep seep seep into a deep depression
Thinking this was a lesson
not to try to push the limit with friends
Hoping she would notice me if I bought tims
When I kissed her lips I felt something
I'm guessing now to her it was nothing
It hurt to see her and not talk
But to look at eachother then continue to walk
I even built the courage to ask her out
But now I know she'll say no without a doubt
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
As I sit here, watching all these people
They all walk with such purpose
As if the end of the world is apon them
Or even if Death itself is chasing them.
I wonder if maybe they are dead inside
Walking around, not because they have purpose
But walking fast gives them purpose
Or a reason to excist.
And what purpose is that?
To crunge numbers all day
Maybe to reply to emails
Or even simply to gather financial wealth.
Isnt there a greater purpose
Not to work so hard only to enjoy the tims you arent working
Nor coffee meetings with people you wont remember in two years
To walk with purpose, becuase to have purpose, not to earn purpose.
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 12:17 PM UTC