"venting" poems
There's a demon in my head and it's finally figured out how to turn my skin transparent and show itself. It escapes through the blank stares in my eyes and as much as I try I can't stop it from venting through my teeth with whatever air is left in my lungs. It's slowly killing me and making my blood toxic.
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 4:02 PM UTC
I swirled in a ocean of brown.
Venting in steam.
My drown overlapped by current
On top of current.
I swirled around and around,
swimming in sugary spec.
I once dreamed of dry land.
Loosing my footing on the edge of a spoon.
The top of a pink packet torn off.
Sprinkled on my head.
There was no sense in fighting.
One single serving brewed.
It was exciting to feel myself swirl,
All I'd ever know.
around and around.
All I'd ever know.
The more I drunk the more evident it became.
The here after in addiction.
Sweet in taste.
My skin dipped in heart of something so delicious.
I swirled around in an ocean of brown.
Her eyes.
Never once did it occur that I couldn't gulp them.
I still tried.
Lost forever in Mocha flavored aroma
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 2:43 PM UTC
I'm tired of being strong. I'm tired of pretending who I am. I'm tired of my family saying be a doctor or dentist so they can get free visits. I'm tired of being compared to my siblings. I'm tired of being the only hope. I'm tired of college. I'm tired of this downward slope. I'm tired of being jobless. I've never had a job. I'm tired of being pressured to do great and perfect. I'm tired of being ugly. I'm tired of being the fat girl in the group. I'm tired of people taking credit for all of my hardwork. I'm tired of my family putting me as the person to blame when something goes wrong. I'm tired of hearing my dad say it's all about the money. I'm tired of hearing my mom ask if I got my financial aid check. I'm tired of my sister asking me to take care of her son. I'm tired of her telling me to work places so she can benefit. I'm tired of my brother pushing me around while the other stands around. I'm tired of my boyfriend not listening to me. I'm tired of him telling me that I act like a child. I'm tired of him saying that I shouldn't give up when he already has. I'm tired of people giving up on me. I'm tired of everything. I'm tired of life. I just want it all to go away.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
Lovingly caressing my ghostly skin,
A crimson dripping type of venting,
The self destructive device bites in,
My demonic pocessed hand continues sliding,
Hateful of a body that remains forever unthin,
The ironic shiny savior my hand clutches keeps me bleeding.
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 6:17 PM UTC
This life **** man…
It’s exhausting..
I don't think anyone
has any idea
how tired I’ve been.
So let me explain...
I'm tired
..I’m tired..
******* I'm tired...
I'm ******* tired.
Tired of life.
Tired of crying.
Tired of whining.
Tired of trying.
Tired of trying to try
only to fail
to keep trying.
Tired of feeling like
the only reason I'm alive
is to try and avoid dying.
Tired of being the only one
that thinks I don't deserve
the talents that I have
that I constantly keep denying.
Tired of thinking that even if
I were to show my talents
then you people
would think I'm lying.
Tired of keeping everyone else
motivated accidentally,
when I can barely stay inspired
I'M TIRED..
…
Tired of thinking I dream too big
because everyone else
is thinking smaller.
Tired of being different
than anyone else that I'm around
and feeling I don't belong here.
Tired of all my goals
being too big for most to grasp
because my thoughts
are always broader.
Tired of my own dreams
always being out of reach
and making me feel alone and awkward.
Tired of being annoyed and peeved
and on the edge at any little thing
that makes me bothered.
Bothered at the fact
that I'm tired of being tired
and can't stop my thoughts
from wandering.
Tired of losing sleep
over trying to catch some rest
and can't seem to catch my breath
or take a break
even if it's offered.
*I'm ******* tired.*
Tired of not being on top
and feeling like quitting.
Tired of everyone always
Seein me dry my eyes.
Tired of feeling like
I'm a walking relapse.
*I'm ******* tired.*
Tired of working my *** off
non-stop,
and drowning in pity.
Tired feeling like all I do
is complain and whine.
Tired of thinking negative
when I know I don't need that.
******* tired.*
Tired of having four ******* items
in three different pawn shops
in two different cities
and one ******* thing on my mind
with zero positive feedback.
******* tired..*
Tired of people thinking
that I'm thinking
that I'm ******* special
even though I know
I'm not the only one
that's lost in doubt
or stressed the **** out
in life.
Tired of venting into
these notes in my phone
like it's my only revival.
But it seems to be the only way
that I can confess and unwind and
get this stress out my mind though..
So thank you for letting me lay down
these lyrics that I’m writing
So I can finally
put these thoughts to sleep
and actually rest them in peace
to expire
so I can stop being tired.
… Peace ✌🏽
Aug 5, 2022
Aug 5, 2022 at 4:49 AM UTC
i live in a ******** so boring tractors roam the streets in the usual
traffic,
but i found that you can wizen up to a title of wizard
by finding inanimate things entertaining and thought provoking,
because the internet will not become
the next scapegoat of goldfish memory - not the next
box of entertainment - it will be what god’s green earth indented.
out here, where you’re far from trafalgar sq. you
get crows circling back to the origin of the woods with odin on the lyre
venting out against too much pigeon **** coo coo of the attired men and women marking karma with the no. 13 and being ******* on from on high,
you get seagulls, even, seagulls so far into dry land... imagine!
and you get the autistic zoning in of the cat’s eye,
those cats are very autistic, their eyes tell the sad sad story
of encapsulated solipsism - snap your fingers or meow
and they look at you passing you looking at some randomised
point of entering their sleeping pattern - very autistic those cats,
they look at you almost cross-eyed when you try to snap them out of it -
out of it being: ****** off at being awake.
very autistic those cats, those cats are very autistic, they look
at you looking past you, looking almost cross-eyed -
don’t blame me for the zigzag or the w!
so as i said, it’s so boring where i live you see tractors and crows,
and the only solidification of your presence is either provided for
by an addiction to television eager for the flicker -
or drinking... watching bricks, thinking bits and bobs out
for the torrent of slavic plumbers building the great ****** of london.
lo... upon the yonder... there it blooms *******
i like places where trees tower over man's handing man brick on brick -
makes the sky a bit bigger and less asthmatic.
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
Thugs with Pens & Aerosol Cans
Thugs with Pens
Hell-bent; not on cultism
Just airing the other sentiments
That don’t make it to primetime
Thugs with pens
Not poking out eyes
Just venting spleen
Sick of the lies
Thugs with pens
Deserve to be heard
They don’t poison your brain
With stacks of *****
Thugs with pens
And aerosol cans
Can change your mind
In ******* time
Thugs with pens
Can make a dent
They don’t need to insert
Un-readable, un-interesting
Covert small print....
Thugs with pens
Don’t need no script writers
Or advisors nor signatories
Witnesses, nor dodgy men
With gold plated fountain pen nibs
To make amends
Or throw in no hidden clauses
That secretly **** your life blood
Thugs with pens
Don’t aim to pierce your skin
But make their mark
Deeper within
Thugs with pens
And aerosol cans
Completely uncensored
champions of free speech
The establishment want suppressed,
silenced, deleted; terminated.
Thugs with pens
And aerosol cans don’t
Schedule meetings
To fix the minutes
And schedule another meeting
And keep ‘minutes’
As square angled
And unproductive
As formal conversation
Thugs with pens
Aim venomous ink
At headless politicians
That squawks like chickens
Bending over
For the *************
Bank-beefing corporations,
Controlling the masses
With ***** little catchphrases
And mounds of munitions
And illegally enforced restrictions
On your movement and free expression
Honest men
Have nothing to fear
From Thugs with Pens & Aerosol Cans
These “thugs” seek asylum
From countries
Where the law’s
Not bought and bent
Thugs with pens & aerosol cans
Are made to wear monikers and masks
Thugs with pens
Don’t turn on its own
Neighbours and citizens
To perpetuate myths:
A ****** ************* lie…
A thing that never happened!
(That’s for all of you dumb wits
out there
Who believe most of the ****
That’s drip fed
Your sensation addicted minds
Most of the time,)
Time you started reading between the lines
In fact get a pen
Or an aerosol can
Write your own lines
Start broadcasting
Reclaim your space
Before you’re completely neoned
Into the shade
And corralled under the spell
Of a TV screen
Or an anger raising headline
That conducts the flow
Of the status quo
Load up your magazines
With ball point pens
And sharp edged writing nibs,
Strap on a belt of aerosol cans
Reclaim your right to free expression
In public spaces
Join the rag-tag army
Of intuitive
Self-knowing men
The End: is well begun,
George Orwell
Should never have written
That blueprint,
‘1984’
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 8:59 AM UTC
Humans Are More Barbaric Than Any Animal,
Ever Could Be,
We Lie,
We Cheat,
We Harass,
We Play Little Mind Games,
We ****
Practically Every Form Of Intelligent Life,
Including Our Own,
Nothing Is Ever Good Enough,
Nothing Is Ever Clean Enough,
Nobody Is Ever Talented Enough,
Nobody Is Acknowledged,
For Their Gifts,
Only Brought Down By Others Saying We Aren't,
Good Enough,
I Envy Animals Because,
Animals Are Straight To Eachother,
If They Dont Like One Another,
They Fight,
They Bite Eachother's Throats Out,
They Tell The Other To Leave,
And Never Come Back,
And They Listen,
But In Human Society,
You Have To Be Nice,
And People Put On That Fake Smile,
Tell You How Beautiful You Are,
Turn Around,
And Talk About What A Mess You Are,
You Have To Share With Them,
Invite Them Into Your Homes,
Pretend You Think They're The Most Amazing,
Person In The World,
Sometimes You Have To Be Nicer To The People,
You Despise,
Then The People You Love,
I'm Not Saying I Wish To ****** Anyone,
I'm Just Venting,
Because I Am Sick And Tired,
Of People Lying To Me,
Just Shut Your Mouth Already,
If You Don't Like Me Tell Me!
I Couldnt Care Less,
About Your Opinion,
Human Society,
Is A Mess,
Human Society,
Has Many Jewels,
But They Are Dusted Over,
From The Dirt Of The Morons,
Human Society,
Has No Natural Selection,
To Pluck Out The Idiots,
If You Ask Me,
I'm Tired Of These People Dimming My Sparkle,
And I'm Sure,
Many Of You,
Feel The Same Exact Way
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 11:31 AM UTC
I've seen cops
way too many times,
too many times
to go through my ****
ripping apart pillows
with switches
and against my better judgment
I did nothing
as I heard the glass of
my grandmother's picture
being tossed around
in the back.
Too many times
asking me questions
about this
and that?
Him or her?
If you help us out,
we'll help you out,
understand?
in their rooms
where no love is grown
and no help is on the way,
their eyes were filled with the fire,
they were finally
gonna get this ******
make him pay
for crimes he didn't commit.
Too many times
when i was asleep
in some old sewer,
and rolling up
asking me if i was on drugs
or drunk,
and if i didn't leave
they were gonna shove
a nightstick up my ***
get me used to it.
Too many times have they slowed down
at a light
and turned slowly,
keeping their eyes on me
like I was a wolf,
when they had blood in their eyes
and teeth
in their holsters.
"Where you going tonight?"
as they surrounded me,
another inmate
inside the bounded
bars of an external prison.
Cops never helped me,
never asked
how I was doing,
or why I was doing it,
or why I felt trapped
inside my own body;
all they saw
was another ******
making problems
for the civilized people.
God will remember them,
just as I can't forget.
And most of the time,
it was other black men,
some fruit bred strong in them,
to hate them bottom-rung *******
because they had escaped
and remade themselves,
apparently.
In truth,
I have killed many of them
in my sleep,
but when I step back,
I see that they are a product
of the same system
that says the guns, drugs, and violence
are part of the ****** condition,
that only shows a ****** on tv
when he's ***** or killed somebody,
another mugshot for you to put in your
scrapbook of fear.
So, no I don't hate them,
I hate seeing people that look like me
getting killed
before they come to fruition.
I hate that
:"black"
is used as a term
meant to engender
fear.
I hate that I walk down the street,
and a white girl
walks ahead
turning around
to
check for me.
I hate that when me
and some of the homies
walk down the street,
our hoodies pulled over our heads,
people look behind us
for the grim reaper.
There is hope,
but without
it being fostered,
The fruits
die on the vine,
noosed up
in a new way
as they drop.
Feb 11, 2012
Feb 11, 2012 at 6:36 PM UTC
Me and you
are broken
in different places
so that we
fit together
like a jigsaw puzzle
You so frenetic
so open
you are a hurricane
people always remember
when you pass through
venting your insecurities
Me so passive
not a care in the world
always out of touching distance
I am a rock
covered in moss
always numb
we fit together
like a jigsaw puzzle
and together
through our flaws
we make a picture
which is so beautiful
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 9:14 PM UTC
Maybe I've become to attached Maybe I fell for u to hard
Maybe I'm just overreacting
Or maybe the spark is gone
I've been thinking lately
Maybe I whine to much
Maybe I'm just a loser
Maybe her love for me is gone
I could just be overreacting
But all the signs lead to this
Maybe she just doesn't want this
What could I be doing wrong
Maybe I love her to much
Maybe I annoy her
Or maybe there's someone else..
Idk maybe I should end it
Before my heart is broken
Maybe this is just argument
But how do I know
She says jokes to play with me
But what if their real
What if she thinks I'm soft
What if she thinks I'm small
What if she thinks I'm just another boy
But she'll know I've been all in
Since day 1
She'll know that I love her
She'll know that she's my world
She'll know that she's my favorite girl
This more then me just venting this is me pouring my heart to person who I don't know if they care anymore?
So I wanna hear it from your lips
I wanna hear u say it in my ear
I wanna hear u say it to ur mom
I wanna hear u say it to a friend
I wanna hear u say it to the world
That you love me and you'll never put someone above
I want you to be all in
I want you to show me that your foreal
I want you to prove to me that im yours
I want you to say to me that I'm your world
You know I sound like a ***** typing this but I don't care
Only a real man can show his feelings to a girl
Only real man can say he loves his girl
Only real man can shout that he loves Reina Marie
So can u tell me do u love me ?
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 1:12 AM UTC
1. If it doesn't take place at 4 in the morning, immediately change the setting.
2. You should center all your work. Centering makes the piece unique and improves readability.
3. You should invoke the idea of The Mask. Paul Laurence Dunbar didn't do it well enough.
4. One word lines improve readability and do a great job of making emphasis. Use them a lot.
5. On the other hand, really long lines explain points wonderfully. Feel free to be essentially prosaic.
6. The subject should be obvious and everyday, that way everyone can easily understand what you're trying to say. Subtext is dated.
7. Confessions and heartbreak are unique to you.
8. Not editing makes the work extremely human and relatable.
9. Emoticons and the ilk are the cutting edge of the English language. Feel free to use them without reservation.
10. Rhyme scheme doesn't need meter.
11. Making a word into waterfall letters tells the reader you're falling apart (See #3).
12. Journals, diaries, blogs and Tumblr are old news when it comes to venting. Write an angry poem about your day instead.
13. You're probably going mad according to the DSM-5. Definitely write about that.
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC
I'm African and I'm proud.
Hip hop is not the only genre I listen to.
Classic rock, classical music, jazz/blues, country, metal, and even disney musical scores.
I **** at basketball, can careless about sport.
Can run fast as hell ;)
If a **** or KKK member called me a ******
I'll shake his/her hand, say hello.
End with the ever pleasant;
"Have a good day."
I'll run 6 miles day. (was 12)
I'll walk to each sunset.
I'm a nerd first, poet second, reader third.
I'll say no to cigs, drugs etc.
I'll laugh at every **** thing that's funny to me.
I'm a kid at heart.
I'll help the weak.
I'll Feed the poor.
I'm going to marry who I want.
I'll be the nicest **** person I can be.
I'll take care my mom when I'm older.
I'm not going to join the Society of the Norm.
Jan 24, 2011
Jan 24, 2011 at 7:16 PM UTC
One stood a majestic volcano,
With perfect crater and perfect form,
With steaming magma underneath its perfection
Shaken and pursued by fools,
By the pressure from the unknowns
Following a venting out of magma,
Slowly affecting everyone by its lava,
Thus being hated more by the fools.
Apr 27, 2023
Apr 27, 2023 at 12:20 PM UTC
I can't be bothered with this
I'm writing the same ****
in every way I can think of
yet these sessions of venting
just build up my hate
and make me regret
I'm afraid to tell someone
in case they don't accept
but I need to be free
free to be me
sorry for this terrible rhyme scheme
but it's flowing free
and structure isn't working for me
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 5:35 PM UTC
Yeah, (start writing)
Tell me, does this scenario seem unfair?
I wished her sweet dreams but only gave her nightmares
Maybe it's the fact that she doubted every bit of my worth!
Maybe it's the fact these insecure women only bring out my worst
Her characteristic flaws are far from heavenly sent
Sip my glory baby, allow my music to be your moments of regret
Hold on girl, promise my rise ain't done yet!
Imma drain ya heart until there ain't nothing left.
All this talent that was all EXternally formulated
Her actions made the hook
Her ******** made the whole creation
I'm plotting revenge baby, so just be patient
Angel eyes...(psh) since when the **** did they start looking like satin?
This **** right here is far from a past love song
This I'm doing me, you gon remember Doug song
Easy to judge me when the criminal was dead wrong
**** venting
When the boy is so far gone.
Take a shot for me, baby let me buy you a drink
You gunna wanna drink away those tears after you read this permanent ink
-Dougie #lostLove
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 1:32 AM UTC
Venting.
They never see the hollow me..
deleted twitter, but i want you guys to follow me..
Usually up late,
worrying about my luck, wait..
there's a starving child somewhere..
meanwhile i just ate..
****** *** my phone bills high, And my ex girl is taken...
meanwhile a small girl in Nepal still feels her world shakin...
Going 80 on the freeway, i just wanna bowl now..
While the folk down in Philly prayed the train would slow down...
Bothered by the shade of a new building...
while people in Haiti are still building..
still building...
while i buy building blocks for my nephew, hes 1.
while the people down in Baltimore burning buildings for fun...
really?
burning building for fun?
Whys the CVS big, but the school with no funds?
but they say the solution is, taking the guns...
they took the guns in Chicago, but left fatherless sons.
Eyebrows on fleek but societies bleak.
the devil takes a seat in a heavenly street..
now were all cursed, but im watching netflix on my sofa..
Chilling bumping Sosa, living by the park where they ***** my neighbor Rosa..
Gotta remind myself daily...that im blessed to a fault..
because theres stillborn babies, whose heads rest in a vault..
boys in Africa begging for bread, while i toast my *****
on the beach enjoying summer the waters too cold to swim though..
while in New Orleans they had to jump in regardless..
but all my worry is, if my sister can pass her BAR test..
So next time i wanna vent under my AC vent...
i stop and think, **** i dont even have to pay rent..
I dont gotta work doubleshifts and im never hungry..
plus a got a couple people who really love me..
So..
Next time that i wanna complain..
Ill scale my struggle on a real measure of pain.
-afj
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 5:32 AM UTC
*Let me court you and bend my pride,
Venting foolish passions,
Vowing with my heart,
Volleying pebbles to your window.
Do not forsake for my sake,
Say, you are the fickle Moon
And I'm a grumpy Narra tree,
That I'm the dizzied Sun and you—
A pirouetting world, that we are
Two islands of the Archipelago.
But never say, impulsively say,
That you are the shooting star,
The Perseids, a meteor shower,
For it is then, love,
That I would have become
The melancholy,
The Universe.*
© 2015 J.S.P.
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 7:14 PM UTC
Sometimes
You make me want to scream
(You make me late for everything)
Out loud
(Too proud)
Like a beast howling with rage and uncultivated fear
(Just the same **** arguments year after year)
You make me ashamed to want attention
(You argue with anything I mention)
That isnt fought for or coerced
(Plans made with you are cursed)
And I just want to make you see
(All the things that you do to me)
That things could be different
(You never take things as they're meant)
Better or worse
(You cut me down first)
And I could still be here in a couple of years
(You dont understand the depth of my tears)
Or maybe not
(You forget what you forgot?)
And I love you
(There's nothing more true)
But loving you hurts
(And sometimes you're just a ****
Sep 16, 2020
Sep 16, 2020 at 11:31 AM UTC
Romantic words wasn’t enough to tell my feelings for you
My poetries wasn’t enough to venting my love for you
Slow songs doesn’t sound right
When you are on my mind
Because you are too special to be described
My blood rushed faster
And my heart applied more pressure
I may have told you I am ready to let go
But the reality, I struggled trying to walk away
The harder I tried, the more my affection grows
And the more I wanted to stay
To be with you until my life passes away
I still want you to fill my heart
In the hollow part
But that would be my own selfishness
Because you already filled somebody else’s
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
Some of us here, write about hope while others write about pain.
Some of us here, write about love and that which keeps us sane.
Others write about Death and the souls she just adored.
Penning out their sorrow, the mournful cries strike a chord.
Then are those who write about things and faces that they know.
Describing perfect places, landscapes wrought with snow.
Me? I'm just here venting, it's a need. This urge to write.
Cut off my hands, if you please. I'll bleed a novel out of spite.
Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 6:19 PM UTC
I'm sad,
but I feel like I'm not sad enough.
I hate food,
but not enough to stop eating.
I hurt myself,
but not enough for people to notice.
I want to die,
but not enough to seek it.
I want happiness
but i'm too scared to lose my identity.
I'm mad,
but not enough to seek revenge.
I'm a kid,
but not enough to live my life.
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 3:37 PM UTC
-
Greetings,
I am the empty chair you just recently
pushed into the carport like some unruly
child made to stand in a corner.
Not a new chair for sure,
but you made me _Your_ chair
by the force of gravity,
transforming my cushion into
perfect contours in the image
of your ***
Though you were always careful
if crumbs fell into me to get up
and brush them away,
and instead of just plopping down
hard on me, you sat gentle and easy,
even if only doing so to soften the
shock for yourself,
there were moments as you sipped beer
you let it slip through your bottom lip,
dripping on me with bitter aftertaste.
Still, I was forgiving of that, and even
to those numerous occasions of you
venting your evening meals.
But the one event that forever sullied our
personal relationship was the morning you
woke on me soaked in most of the past
evening's
~~brew
Though you tried to patch things up
with towels and scented sprays,
we were never to look upon
one another with the
same recognition
again.
I know now the days for me here number
far less than the buttons of the controller
you so frequently lost between my cushions,
giggling me in your efforts to retrieved it.
Although our separation will mean for me a
transformation into a twisted pile of springs,
stuffing, splinters and ripped cloth within the
bucket jaws of a front end loader in the snow,
I can take some comfort with me to the
resting pits of jettisoned human folly that
our severance was of no fault of my own.
yours truly,
Chair...
s jones
2007-2020
.
Dec 6, 2020
Dec 6, 2020 at 8:13 AM UTC