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Kay-Ann Feb 2014
Your music is sensual, dark and languid
Mysterious and ****, hypnotic and sultry
The slow tempo and rumbling bass drums are a heavenly mix
I close my eyes and let the forlorn echoes immerse me
In a sea of falsetto vocals and stuttering percussions

Your music is enigmatic, puzzling and seductive
Pacifying and troubling, calming and cinematic
Your champagne crooning is a movie in itself
Telling me the tales of a gloomy ***-infused hangover life
And it connects to the depths of my soul
Even though I've never experienced it

Narcotized slow jams filled with samples of punk and rock
Transports me to an actual dream world
Your subtly crafted harmonies and beats are celestial
And your lyrics a painkiller
That numbs the wounds in my soul and takes me higher...

Your voice is R&B; but your lyrics are ***** rap
You take such vile words and turn them into something beautiful
and I adore that.
Bunhead17 Nov 2013
Sia:
And another one bites the dust
But why can I not conquer love?
And I might've got to be with one
Why not fight this war without weapons?
And I want it and I wanted it bad
But there were so many red flags
Now another one bites the dust
And let's be clear, I trust no one


You did not break me
I'm still fighting for peace


Well I've got a thick skin and an elastic heart
But your blade it might be too sharp
I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard
But I may snap when I move close
But you won't see me fall apart
Cause I've got an elastic heart
I've got an elastic heart
Yeah, I've got an elastic heart

The Weeknd:
And I will stay up through the night
Let's be clear, I won't close my eyes
And I know that I can survive
I walked through fire to save my life
And I want it, I want my life so bad
And I'm doing everything I can
Then another one bites the dust
It's hard to lose a chosen one
Sia and The Weeknd:
You did not break me (You did not break me, no, no)
I'm still fighting for peace
This is "Elastic Heart" by Sia ft The Weeknd and its produced by Diplo off of the "Hunger games: Catching Fire"
You can YouTube it it you would like to hear it.
Zachary Feb 2015
gym
saw a new woman tonight
not like that
i dont even know her name
barely had the nerve to look at her
her body so good
hair was different
face that looks cute
and left me feeling dipped ****
i couldnt help but stare
western keychain the only remembrance
why do i want her so bad
our eyes did the shmoney dance
spastic but seeming to enhance
my thirst of the if
the how did we both get here
am i the only one feeling this
or is this just a girl
not a blur
i was on pre workout and was probably just creeping
after all
who out of any of us can saw they can sing like the weeknd
LS Aug 2014
Hey there lonely girl
Did you have to tell your friends
About the way I got you screaming
My name?
The Jolteon Feb 2015
What's love got to do with it
Especially after a few drinks
The airs thick with it
Been in and out of too much
Confusion of one over the other
Let time tell what we mean
To one another
It's all here and gone
What's love got to do with it
First and last lines taken from a song
Bunhead17 Dec 2015
Name: Falen Acon
Residence: San Diego California
Age: 15 (almost 16)
Birthday: Jan 4, 2000 (Capricorn)
School: Don't worry about it!
Grade: 10th (Sophomore)
Class Of: 2018
Favorite Color: Ballet Pink, Gun Metal Gold and Burgundy
Favorite Flower: Wild Flowers, Roses & Sunflowers
Hobbies: Dancing and Poetry
Favorite Food: Pizza
Favorite Drink: Strawberry and Root Beer Soda
Favorite Dessert: Ice Cream (Shakes) (any flavor)
Happy Place (place that makes me happy): Beach or Dance Studio
Career Path: Professional Dancer
Lucky Day: Saturday
Lucky Number: 3
Favorite Number: 7
Friends: Christan Zeal, Elsa Angelica and Drevon Young
Goals:  Find true love, Find happiness and Travel World
Favorite Artists: Lana Del Rey, The Weeknd, Drake, PartyNextDoor, Post Malone, ILoveMakonnen, Rae Sremmurd, RDGLDGRN, Kyle, A.$.A.P Rocky, G-Eazy and Zayn Malik
Celebrity Crushes: Zayn Malik, Justin Bieber,  RED (from RDGLDGRN) and Steph Curry (GSW)
Favorite NBA Team: Golden State Warriors (GSW)
Favorite NFL Team: North Carolina Panthers
Favorite MLB Team: Chicago Cubs
Favorite College Football Team: LSU Tigers
Favorite Nascar Driver: Kasey Kahne
Future College: Texas State University (TSU) or Something :)
Future Sorority: Delta Sigma Theta (DST) /_\
Heres some fun facts about me. Enjoy!
mikev Sep 2015
My heads pounding
My necks twisted amuck
think I'mma stop giving a ****
Light up a blunt and do what I want -
woah wait -
ain't that the **** that got me
here in the first place?
Worst case I nervously pace
the halls for a day - two or a weekend
Blasting the weeknd
Entire enviroment reeking
shrieking -
Nah -
I'm better than that.
Can't latch onto the past.
That's the trash that got
us there at the start - instead
I prepare it in art
And share from the heart, with you.
And you.
And you and you and you.
Because why not?
It helps forget about that pinebox looming-
Thinking outside the winebox lucid -
I mean Windex, clean em out
And a win decks, stacks paper chips
You can't say this isn't some matrix blips
I am not losing ****
I am manuevering this beautiful thing
up past this ******* Nuva Ring
Cause that's life - you can get beat
or keep it on a leash - jeez
that's sexist. I don't know
where this became an accepted
comparison, its embarrassing
comparing them - to K9's
But we hear it through the grapevine
Turns of phrase we make fine.
Eth Sykes Dec 2013
If you had five seconds to spare, I’d tell you how heaven’s feel like
I’d kiss you your lips so softly you wouldn’t noticed time passing
You’ll poison me,and I’ll lose myself
Into you

Music will be our drug.
I’ll play the weeknd on the stereo, and spell you poetry of how glorious you are, because I’m sure that scene would make permanent one.
I’ll lie against your chest and hear your heart beats and sing on their melody

you are that thin line between the contraction of light and dark
A paradox of sins and pureness
A cracked diamond, a perfect flaw.
Bunhead17 Dec 2015
Tory Lanez
Drake
The Weeknd
PartyNextDoor
Post Malone
ILoveMakonnen
RDGLDGRN
Kyle
G-Eazy
Rae Sremmurd
Future
Travis Scott
Lana Del Rey
Bryson Tiller
Jhene Aiko
Cal Scruby
Twenty-one pilots
The Neighbourhood
Zayn Malik
Jimi Hendrix
Nina Simone
Damian Marley ft Nas
Stephen Marley ft Wyclef Jean ft Nina Simone (Song:keeper of the flame)
No-Maddz (Song: Shotta)
Jesse Royal
In my opinion.
Maya Jun 2013
The Weekend
(The Weeknd found poem)

It's gonna be one of those nights
I'm bout to give it up like I've been holding back all night
It's really hard for me to speak right now
So I don't know what to expect from you tonight.
And I'm not tryna talk, and I'm not tryna walk
I wanna lose myself between your legs
I'm tryna kiss your neck without a word
Say it in my ear so I can hear what you're saying to me.
I promise you'll have nothing to say
You remind me of a feeling that I used to have
I wanna make your body shake
I'm tryna make you numb without a word.
Nagilia Melendez Jun 2015
I'm going to tell you a story,
About a girl,
Who wanted nothing but fame and glory.

She dreamt of days without a worry.
A world when people have no need to be sorry.
She sits back and enjoys the moment,
With music in her ears as her docent.

Tunes from varying artist,
From tove lo, to G eazy, to the weeknd.
Creating moods that she never knew exist.
Everything was just pefect.

It began to rain,
She turns down the volume.
She cries quietly,
Listening to the stories drops create in her brain.

She tries not to remember the pain,
But the memories continued to swirl and destroy her,
Like a bunch of internal hurricanes.
Then, she remembers the relief of cutring open her veins.

She clenches her fists,
She tries to resit.
The voices begin to scream,
Stripping away her self esteem.

She covers her ears,
She continues to Cry!
"No more fears no more fears!"
She pops some pills trying to get high.

But she took too much,
And she dies.
This is just a story,
Of a girl who was used for fame and glory.
#sad #inspiration #suicide #depressed #
AFJ Dec 2014
When your ex,
Texts you on some..
"Babyyyy where you been?
I miss you and i need you, always feel you like the wind"....

**** you left me though?..
Why'd you even save my phone?..
I thought we went our separate ways i thought that we were grown?..

That's when she calls me up, && i smell it in her tone..
If only she knew, Alcohols a quick escape and not a home..

Shes like..
"Naaaa nah bruh,
ive only dranken just a lil.....
But in honesty,
like really we should go on dr.phil.."

Proceeds, on some..

"i need a ride, whats for dinner, why dont we go visit moms"
playing the Weeknd, on a weekend, its The Same Old Song.

i always pick her up, and drop her off at Katie's..
******, like **** you know **** well she can get this crazy!
Now Katie's mad like, "****, you be her roommate then!"
I'm like, that was the plan but that **** caved in..

Well, this will probably happen again next week, & the week after.
what a long, sad and repetitive chapter..
i mean to most drunk texting is a matter of laughter,
but it leads me to drunk text her back & attack her...

On some,
"Babeeee where you been...
I miss you and a need you, & i feel you like the wind.."

Shes like..we talked about this before..you never hit me up when your sober.

I'm like,
"nor do you, so so so when you coming over?"

She hangs up. .
Happens twice a month.
im sober when shes drunk..
& when shes sober im a chump.

relationship? Or relation-****?
Either way,
Far from a REALationship.

But i guess you can say, at least we speak it could be worse...
by the way, later today its my turn to text her first..




-afj
m i a Dec 2015
and i know, that she's capable of anything. It's riveting.*




**In the night -the weeknd.
the weeknd is literally a poet himself.
Phoenix Rising Aug 2017
O, the flow rolls
like the way our bodies do.
You look at me,
I look at you.

This is so much more than touch.
Your hands are on my body but
I feel them on my love.
15 | Heartbreak in Hatfield

I took the bus from the CBD all the way to Hatfield just to free my mind and receive closure from you.
Let’s vibe out and listen to our favourite songs by Drake and reminisce about the love that we’ll never get back.
How long can I keep holding on when all this pain becomes a reflection of everything that’s bound to go wrong?
Was I not deserving of the kind of love and happiness that I had consistently given to you?
I yearn for a reality worth dreaming about, but lately my heart has been paralysed by doubt.
Time is expensive like a Richard Mille watch but every minute I spent with you was worth it.
When my blue skies fade to grey, I listen to songs by The Weeknd and reminisce about you every single day.
I took the bus from the CBD all the way to Hatfield just to free my mind and receive closure from you.
Now I spend my days listening to sad songs while reminiscing about the love that I’ll never get back.
These words are proof that I’m still recovering from the heartbreak I once felt a while ago in Hatfield.
Biplav Shrestha Dec 2015
It's not every day that you get the inspiration to write something. And when I say "write", I mean"write" in general.  In my case,I experienced a coffee rush for the first time today after what seems like forever and for some reason it has lasted for almost 5 hours. Anyway, TobyKid tells me that many great writers are in agreement that you can't (want) to write! That you have to (need) to write and if you don’t need to write then you shouldn’t write.I am someone who has always found it hard to socialize with people. As a kid I was usually the one who didn’t fit in anywhere. And for reason unclear, I didn’t want to fit in anywhere. So that was fine and I never felt sorry for myself. I was the type of kid that usually sat somewhere in the middle of the class,doodling and scribbling on the backs of notebooks and wooden desks. If it weren't for the dress code, I think I’d probably have shown up wearing a hoodie that covered up my entire body. If I were an insect, I'd probably be a soil dwelling worm. You can put money on that! Call me a hipster for liking Linkin Park and The Weeknd before they were cool! It wasn't long before I found out that keeping things to myself had consequences. The symptoms of which included paranoia, insomnia, depression, OCD, (ODD) obsessive day dreaming, blah!! This is when I discovered art, poetry and literature. I never understood why people worshiped musicians like they were gods till I heard Trent and Maynard for the first time. Well! Now I know. For a while I could turn off the world around me and get lost in the euphoria of my self-isolation. Sometime it lasted for a minute, sometimes for days. Like it matters anyway! Contrary to what culture and society perceives as normal behavior here, I have been writing and sketching my feelings down ever since I had the motor skills to move a pencil across paper; though I must admit that I'm still crap at it. But none of that really matters to me because it's probably the only thing keeping me sane and functioning in what I would otherwise perceive to be a meaningless and mundane world.I have always found it hard to find inspiration. That being said, there's nothing poetic about the thoughts that nest themselves inside my head. Although I have met quite a few people who likes to think otherwise. I don’t share any of them verbally as I think that they're so muddled up that I myself lack the skill and knowledge to decipher them. Instead, I write them down as I am writing this very commentary to try to get a sense of what it is that I am getting out of this coffee rush. I am still unclear of it but as long as I'm having fun hitting away at the keys with all that jazz, it's okay. Now I know what Victor Frankenstein was feeling while he was digging up all those graves to create his.. Adam.There is no easy way to put it. Everything you see me do is an act. Or is it? I can’t really tell anymore. Does a worm know that it’s a worm? I remember reading something by Stephen King where he was talking to a bunch of kids in a college and he talked about how he didn’t know what would happen to his characters and his stories until they were written. He also talked about how writing the last words of your novel before you've written it is like licking the icing off of the cake and then eating it.But then again, he's a genius and I am just some ******* trying to make sense of my life off of a coffee rush.(8/21/2015)
Aaron LaLux Jun 2017
Once Upon A Time

The truth is,
I saw you for real,

not just your eyes,
though they were the window,
not just your mouth, though it was the door,

the truth is,
I saw you,

in a flash of light,
in a fleeting moment of intangible time,
somewhere between uncontrollable chaos,
and unconscious calm,

I saw you,

and in that fleeting moment,
I saw we all want to feel,
both comfortably numb,
as well as every possible awkward emotion,

imagine all the people living in harmony,

see there’s a little Lennon in all of us,
just not enough...

We all want to feel,
both comfortably numb and every possible awkward emotion,

who killed John Lennon,
who killed JFK,

they want to assassinate our characters indiscriminately,
anyone could be informant don't know who to trust these days,
is that why what little emotion you still hold,
you try and hide away?

Well,
you can’t hide from me,
you see,
I see you,

you see I see you,
and your unconscious charade,
but your charade can’t fool me,
just like John Legend can’t replace,
John Lennon or The Weeknd can’t replace,
Michael Jackson or how Donald J can’t replace JFK,

or how MLK can’t be replaced be anybody,

because nobody’s even trying to stand for anything anymore,
unless they’re standing drink in their hand on the dance floor,

who killed MLK,
who killed Michael Jackson,
who killed Prince and why haven’t we felt a thing ever since,
it seems we lost ourselves but we don't know how it happened,

and I just want to feel again,
and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen,
and I know the deal,
the real truth and the real you so please stop acting,

the truth is,
I see you,

so don’t act like you don’t care,
because we both know I know that you do,
and please pinch me to prove we aren’t dreaming,
even though we both know we have nothing to prove,

and nothing to lose,
please show me some meaning in all of this,
and I’m not asking for understanding,
I’m just acting for some acceptance,
I’m not asking for anything else actually,
well maybe also for you to at least acknowledge,
that I see you not part of you but all of you,
you can't fool me with those mirages,

I see right through the tools you use to confuse with,
you see I see you,

so accept this,
without exception,
show me your Self,
or show me nothing,

tell me something,
that you’ve been waiting to never share,
because I’ve gone numb from all these faux pas feelings,
and false hand dealings from those that never cared,

see it seemed I’d lost hope until I found you right there,

and now,
I’m seeing,
something,
someone,
who reminds me,
you remind me,
to remember,
that we felt once,
and for that,
I love you,
forever,
and I’m indebted to you,
and I’m here,
to return the favor,
so I remind you,
that we felt once,
and we still do,
and I still see you,
not the fake you but the real you,
and the real you wants the real truth and the truth is I see you,
or at least I saw you before I forgot to remember,
because you forgot to remind me to remind you...

The truth is,
I saw you for real,

not just your eyes,
though they were the window,
not just your mouth, though it was the door,

the truth is,
I saw you,

in a flash of light,
in a fleeting moment of intangible time,
somewhere between uncontrollable chaos,
and unconscious calm,

I saw you,

and in that fleeting moment,
I saw we all want to feel,
both comfortably numb,
as well as every possible awkward emotion,

imagine all the people living in harmony,

see there’s a little Lennon in all of us,
just not enough...

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Please remember...
Fortune Cookie Maxim Minimizes
(alternately titled “markedly welcome matt and luke warm john.”)  

i agonizingly dutifully didst wait
to distract anticipatory anxiety,
(analogous to an expectant father)
while protracted procedure promised
nothing short of a millennium,

whereby echoing thru the corridors of time
olly olly gluten free ranging NON GMO, oxen
oiled lubricated cloven hoof
nsync cup aided toot tune to clacking choppers
activated after this chap dialed up favorite eats
using latest vaunted communications device

(forced to shout over din o'er
loud grumbling within bowel
of abdominal anatomical beast)
commenced manifold upon ordering repast
magically appeared, low
and behold an appetizer tete a tete

via tony Apple iPhone X ‑ 256 GB ‑ 
Silver Verizon amazing piece de resistance, 
sans technological fetes
with CDMA/GSM ring tones,
where a pleasant fecund female bot tilled voice didst greet

prepping, priming, promoting
Crowded house special of the Green day
dis "FAKE" kin lister eagerly
awaited: salivating, simulating ****** soothing
sans savory souffle
the first culinary ******* savory dish,

after aye parked, positioned, and plunked gluteus
near swinging doors leading into kitchen,
where this word maven strategically
dip posited said maximus to attempt
futile gastronomic endeavor
tum maximize tempering torturous tenacious
devastatingly deadly assault steaming enemy

disarmed disguised, and dismantled,
resplendent redolent redoubt
digitally remastering nondiscerning indistinct aromas
to supper esse overwhelming paroxysms to gorge
putting a ritzy lid on heated fiery dogged
craving powder milk dog biscuits

(an impossible mission), where oozing,
licking, insinuating filaments
commingled as cutthroat nemesis cooly whipped
devastatingly weeknd x2c;
wickedly wafting, seducing, satiating, and salivating

courtesy olfactory foramen, deflecting incessant onslaughts
induced famished fellow to reevaluate, relinquish,
and revisit his Weltanschauung soup per bowl, 
while simultaneously commandeering cutlery
to attack, besiege, conquer

condemning delegate of China ware without tea zing,
thence indiscriminately marshaling choppers
to set up base camp at Oral-B
(heeding flying pie warnings, where shewing
should desserts foe ment Hunger)

eggs sauce er baited onslaught of herbaceous,
fabulous delicious culinary cuisine aromatic eats
thoroughly teasing growling stomach
steeping interminable suspenseful,
seven star Michelin magicians

empowered to transform most anything (such
as bilge water, road **** or septic tank)
gourmet experienced huckster longingly *****
doubled as famished Norwegian Bachelor farmer,

equating odoriferous garbage truck
on par suckling swollen teats
patience caved to restrain noshing
impaling his strict credo on dustbin of his story
never again *** chew gnawing
even knuckles sandwich of fingers or toes

squishy human digits texture of imported dates
which hunger pangs lesson,
do justice doth minimally satiate afterwards,
a restauranteur hoof hall hues highbrow opinion,
hence a short survey about ambience, yours truly will rate

perhaps unwise of an every Jimmy John Joe gourmand
tubby biased after an apple ala carte blanch
preceded with delicious hors d'oeuvre high marks
more nerve wracking than going on a blind date.
And of course with enticing forkful of flagrant food
Beep ping Update complete disrupted first mouthful.
My heart is filled with sadness,
My fear of the unknown paralyzed me,
I was hoping to write a happy one,
I'm still new to that so I struggle with it.

Sadness for me has my second skin,
I've been wearing it inside and out,
It's calloused into everything I said and do,
So that's easier for me to write on it.

It only sheds when her eyes look at me,
The moon remains a symbol of hope,
My moon; I'm reborn every time
She calls me her own
and I grow anew in her light.

Mitski wrote 'I don't think I could stand to be where you don't see me'

Lana wrote 'But there’s no you, except in my dreams tonight'

Taylor wrote 'Sometimes I wonder, when you sleep,
are you ever dreaming of me?'

Tame Impala wrote ''If only there could be another way to do this, cause it feels like ****** to put your heart through this'

The Weeknd wrote 'when it's time, it won't matter'

I don't ever want to relate any of that ever
in my whole life ahead, I've started
preserving myself as much I can
to spend every second I need, can and want with her.

So I'll write against all the artists I hold dear,
her sweet sunshine believes in he writes ahead :)

''I can stand a world where you see me and see that I tried my best;

You're now here in my arms, my dreams are just stupid silly things, I can't wait to tell you about in the morning and laugh about;

I won't have to wonder if you dream about me because we'll sleep and wake up to each other;

There will be only one way to do it, it's to love you and it will feel like a new life everyday

When it's time, we will matter the most like we always have''
Vampyre Kato Jun 2016
Eye Of The Over Soul, Direction Injection Over Load,
I’m Over Here, Over Head , Under Toes,
Saving Under Dogs, Like Aw Oh My God My Hands In ******* Braw,
Pants Dance A lot, Numbers Right, Night Candle Hot,
Dark Forest, Spooky Sounds Wood Black,
Theres No Taking A Should Back,
Realitys A Hoax, I Know That I Should Laugh,
Emotions Are Explosions, On A Clone Mask,
I Said I Mean It, I Own That.
Gold Is The Greenest, I Bleed It, The Zone Shack,
Armor Pours From Open Doors,
You Nasty Tweaking 4 bodys Sleeping All Weeknd,
Joking Sure, Of Course,
6 Plus 2, The Way Of The Gate,
Every Day Is My Birthday , Eye In The Cake,
I Cant Take Much More Of The ****,
That Yall ****** Say,
I’m On A Cliff , With Yo Chick,
Kissing My Limbs,
Mornings Start With Night Shower, We White Owls & ******* 6,
Rather Have Girls With Game Sticks, In Sweaters Squirting, Like Rain Drips
We Came With The Bottle ***** Djinn, Mystery Dripping From My Chin,
D & Me , Have A Way With Sin, It’s Not Likely To To See Kites Nicely , Where Our Bikes Be,
****** Naught Psychedelic Heavy Weights, Astral Flight ****
3 Plus 3 Blooming Healthy Chai Seed,
Percieve Only What The Eye Sees,
2 Eyes Bleed ,
Xoaquín Oznian Feb 2019
[Nocturnal by Disclosure & The Weeknd is playing in the background.]

I know I love ***.
You know I love ***
Everybody knows I love ***
Though it's hard to sleep
when lately every lady that I meet
when lately every lady that I ****
I see pieces of you in all of them
I see shapes of you
within the shape of her
When she's under me
or when I'm under her
The moaning, the passion, the sweat
Elicits the sweet memories of you
The feeling of the wetness of your *****
Against the landscapes of my fingertips
the softness of your sweet, supple *******
the warmth of your breath in my ear
as I continue to rub your ***** lovingly
the way your hand caresses my face
the way your body moves counterclockwise with mine
I try to tell myself that I'll move on from you
I try to run away from you
I try to forget you
but how can I forget you?
when you're everywhere I lay my head?
june Mar 2018
hello my name is stressed and i am june
hello my name is too much to do and i am june
hello my name is whens that due? and i am june
hello my name is i cant get that done and i am june

but june is the happiest month?
well sometimes but not today
Nicole Joanne Oct 2016
It takes a hand to light a candle, and a gust to blow it out;

I loved a boy who would argue that his hair is brown, but I have always believed it to be an ashy blonde, a boy who's eyes changed from green to golden depending on the light, and who had skin of porcelain that he never quite liked. In the mornings he would wake up, put on some music, and dance around his room with a cigarette in his hand, grabbing his jeans off the chair and his shirt from the drawer. He would run cold water through his hair, take a glance in the mirror, and then exit down the stairs. I would always take a seat while he had one foot out the door, because he had a tendency to always forget to grab his keys.

The hand that lights a candle could also hide the flame.

Years passed and his hair was not quite as long, but still very ashy. He still danced around to music, but to a different song; Bruce Springsteen couldn't match his mood quite like The Weeknd could. He'd grab his cigarette, run his fingers through his hair, and forget his keys, still, before reaching the door. The flame may have been hidden, but the heat left my fingertips raw

I loved this boy with my whole heart. I still do. I hope he never stops dancing in the mirror before he goes to work, and I hope he still watches Jeopardy at 7 'o clock. I hope he never stops rapping the words that fill his heart; and I hope the world never tears him apart.

I loved him once, and always will. But we're not in love anymore.

& the flame burned out**
NJ2016
Of This Whelk Hooked Sluggish Autodidact

Nay, despite failing to make the grade,
     this bluesy well red, duff mute
     average white band hit,
     hard knock school alumnus
jack of all trades master of none bumped along

     *** hole cratered steep pitch
     while riding the bus
bullies skewered kosher me all, cannibalized
     carte blanche timid ego

     brandishing exacto knife
     threatening jugular, cuss
sing maniacally pulling out all stops
     going headstrong for this doofuss

Embracing premonition making me mincemeat
     vis a vis via, Atilla the *** plus
Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore
     after diet of worms

     as hors d'oeuvre hug guess
if given a choice, would prefer Loch Ness
monster, or the whale that swallowed Jonah,
     either t'would be a quite im press

heave feted feat, versus being poached,
      roasted, skewered burnt alive
perhaps sautéed to feed additionally,
     the Gothic (Jacks sin) five,
the latter adorned with

     Bandolier prototype, whence they would jive
to Vandals mess sigh ya,
     these last yet another contra band
     to play on command, or risk not being
     he gee beegee bing  a live

all thee above iterated blather spluttered
     as punishment against revive
ving human sacrifice by pence hoove lee donning
     a new jersey wordlessly trumpeting, and strive

ving assiduously as a one man lobbyist,
     and aye willingly negotiate
     to take more'n one wive

even though that would be big o' me decor,
thus a last minute reprieve given
     without axing por favor
and black keys handed over

     to Holy Roman Empire in ****
rubble ruins (over the Weeknd), thus brutish nasty,
     and short tempered surprisingly
     (boot not prematurely) ******* bon jour

foo fighters actually (grand
     aery an nah - did a three sixty)
     feting me guest of *** or,
boosting self esteem, the first time
     since being a kid in a candy store

which poetic digression
     did make quite a dee tour,
and bringing detente amidst marauding
     village people hoop reef furred war.
Anais Vionet Mar 2023
Here’s a playlist, Mr. Ex President:

'I Fought the Law' by The Clash
'Chain Gang' by The Pretenders
'Locked Up' by Akon
'My Own Prison' by Creed
'Prisoner' by The Weeknd
'Famous-in-A-Small-Town' by Miranda Lambert
'FatMan on the Run' by Paul McCartney & Wings
'Jailhouse Rock' by Elvis Presley
'Prison Grove' by Warren Zevon
‘Who’s Sorry Now’ by Connie Francis
‘If I Could Turn Back Time’ by Cher

If convicted, Trump should claim to identify as a woman
NEWS UPDATE:  I ❤️ NY
Anna Oct 2017
nyt musik på spotify. bogindkøb. højt musik i badet. efterårssolen der sommetider titter frem. efterårsblade der snart drukner kbh i orange og brune farver. tøj der matcher årstiden. nyklippet hår. planlægning af fremtidige rejser. at cykle i skole til lyden af khalid og the weeknd. den dyrebare kattelighter. nye øreringe. at spamme photo booth hver gang jeg har en god dag. og selvfølgelig osteboller fra lidl (det er løgn. dem elsker jeg året rundt).
theorizes, surmises, realizes, outlandish notions
   manifesting gibberish inside frangible egghead,
especially when attempting tip ply words struggling
   to describe abstract whims fed
by fancy, groovy, heady indefinable
   mind boggling ideas they weigh like a led
zeppelin inside gray matter squeezed

   to the max like a sponge dark red
when saturated with near incomprehensible
   thought processes that attempt to shed
light on cosmic principles, yet lack
   mathematical familiarization wed
did with advanced studies in astrophysics (trace
sing pinball erratic mental reverberations
   leaves me stupefied) about mysteries of space
time continuum, quantum mechanics,

   and even how my existence came about
   since the presence of human race
whereat random
   evolutionary circumstances took place
on planet (un) fit Earth analogous
   to skien woven of sateen lace

via some invisible hand weaving
   world wide webbed warp and sub woof
   fur wrought primordial miracles
   ranked (within schema by human primates)
   as zen amazingly grace
full promenade,
   per multivarious species, now one Janus face
sing self destruction duet hoo

   weapons of mass destruction can erase
entire range comprising terresrial biota
   unable to escape original weeknd update
   with Jane Curtain, and Chevy Chase,
and according to Stephen Hawking the base
sic global web spun via **** Sapiens
   will lose role as topdog
   ousted from twittering, spotifying reddit queue
   over stayed plenti potentiary pinnacle,
   oracle outlook netzero for mankind as ace

forced to relinguish role,
   sans self anointed supreme beast
(what a beauty this bipedal hominid),
   whose surging population didst increased
the process toward total vaporous xfinity zapped –
   frankly tubby sub letted and leased
to another organism
   not needing tubby policed.
Mia J May 4
Over the years music has played an important role in my life.
When I was upset, I played music to cheer myself up.
When I was happy, music sat by my side and cheered with me.
When I was depressed, music wrapped its cozy arms around me and acted as a close friend.

My shoulder to lean on.
My words when I couldn’t think of anything to say.
The reason why I was strong when everything tried its hardest to make me weak.
The one thing that I will always welcome to soothe me.

The music that graces my ears is as diverse as the colors of a rainbow.
Each one has its own significant meaning
and is a beautiful site to see and feel.
The words of my favorite songs float
from my speakers,
to my ears,
and then to my soul.
I like the songs I like
and I love the songs that I love.

There are many genres of music.
And me being the unique individual that
I am,
I can’t stick to one genre.
if my ears and soul dig a song,
Why can’t I do the same?

The 511 songs on my phone are shuffled.
When I press play, rock music could start the show.
Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Aerosmith, The Eagles, or the Police, or Jimi Hendrix.
If I fast forward to the next song, rap might take the stage.
Tupac, Ice Cube, 3 6 Mafia, Bone Thugs N Harmony, Ludacris, TI, Lil Wayne, Drake, J.Cole.
Pop songs could pop out next.
Michael Jackson, The Weeknd, Sam Smith, Ariana Grande, Lizzo, Doja Cat, Lady Gaga.
R&B would want to follow.
New Edition, Adina Howard, Brandy, Erykah Badu, Aaliyah, TLC, Fantasia, Beyonce, Keyshia Cole, Amerie, Ashanti, Usher.
BTS, Blackpink, or Jay Park might conclude or continue the show.
As they always do.

Each song I jam to is distinctive.
I feel as though no one song is the same as the next.

My phone is the time capsule that contains the treasures to my ears.
I may start in the 1970s and travel to the 2000s.
Or I may start in the 2010s and go back to the 1990s.
Whichever song decides to play first, I will always listen to it like it’s my first time.

Mia J
3-14-2021

© 2021 Mia J
This poem was composed in 2021.

— The End —