"wimps" poems
She is equipped with sensitive *******
and those other secret places
that ladies give out as prizes
to deserving guys as long as
they adopt the right disguises
of gods, gurus, intellectual giants,
goats, children, father figures, macho brutes,
sugar-daddies, supermen, seminal vessels,
house-repairers, jar openers, jocks, hate objects,
handy shoulders to cry on, emotional support systems,
sensitive, intuitive, yet strong silent types
who can also pay the bills,
tall dark and handsome total strangers,
toy boys, clowns, jugglers, jokers, millionaires,
wood choppers, ******* removers,
bottomless reservoirs of reassurance
or just plain spunky studs when the moon is right.
In fact, anything but woffly wimps.
Oh God, no. Anything but woffly wimps.
Yes, but what about stoic, steadfast SNAGS,
you know, the Sensitive New Age Guys
who won’t face-shift for a ****
Yes, well, let's try to sum all this up here right now.
I think that the woman is dripping
with a brimming reservoir
of luscious and sensitive resources on tap for
the man who can figure out her cosmic kaleidoscope
of swirling dreams and desires,
which is definitely not to say she can’t be totally independent.
Although please don't be confused.
Friendly boy-next-door types who are handsome,
aren't too hairy, who like to laugh, who have a boyish braggadocio,
who are students, who appear to be intellectuals,
who are not nerds,
and who can **** it in the kitchen, who can be oh, so cool,
who can convince a maiden that she is in distress,
and is in need of rescuing, while he has
a swaggering hard-on will do, too.
Oooh. You devil.
And if you think this poem is misogynist, misanthropic or myopic,
well, I’ve been around and by now, well,
I really should be panoptic
because I’ve seen all the fads,
and really, it’s sadly too bad
about those poor old
earnest SNAGS.
But you know what?
I don't think I understand anything, because
I'm really a victim of worshiping women.
I'm bedazzled and as blind as the next man, and
yes,
I'm just happy whenever I'm with them.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
**** bomb
monsoon girl
thunder roll with falling arms
the war of hot ****
flicker hive
i take your head while your mouth rims
chatters and wimps
your feet kicking
limbs slant wide
all desperate sliding
my ribs infernos
i'm your
BBQ
your my hot pepper stew
on a killer bed
your soul
eager torn clouds
a dragging nail tongue
sends you alabaster screams
like a winged sun drinking blood
your saliva diamond drool
black braids around ghost throat
a hemophilic dance
your center a wheezing fortress
my foot prints on your face
and
muddy kisses
that cant wait*
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 12:28 PM UTC
I make a lot of enemies without intending,
They outnumber me greatly with their size
but they cannot withstand the wrath of fury;
I come ****** but unbowed to these wimps
Hence, they unleash a band of Anthropophagus
Well, I have the ***** to slain these monsters
The sight of them is infuriating, less frightening
I gave them something to mourn - I have to
Again, I walked away from the battle unbowed
Because I have what it takes to **** a mockingbird
But, it didn't make me feel better or worse
I have to put up with them and their excesses
Now, you will understand why I never turn to see
who stab me in the back - it's not worth turning
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
It was supposed to be
The dawn of a new age;
A new set of dialogue
On a more balanced stage
With better lines for
The actors to deliver.
It was supposed to start in
The sixties and last forever.
We didn’t really know for sure
What this Aquarius stuff was
But it seemed to us to be
A metaphysical enough cause,
To change the way we acted
And to shout down the rest;
To face the demagogues
Then put them to the test.
We stopped wearing uniforms
That said we went along
With the hard-assed leaders.
We put a lot of it in our songs.
We called them what they were
Greedy warmongering ******
We protested and picketed
And promised so much more.
We spoke out loudly on TV
And in crowds in the streets
That we were through will genocide
And would not accept defeat.
We cried out that our government
Had assumed the role of villain
And was murdering for no reason
Not just men, but even children.
But, we let it all die down;
We let the government slide
On investigating the truth
And keeping the truth inside
A carefully chosen batch of
Criminals in public office.
We let them go on making war
And making money off us.
We let them cheat and lie
And re-write acceptable laws
To support their bloodthirstiness
And we gave up on our cause.
Maybe all that protesting gave
All our marching feet limps.
Or maybe it’s because all along
We were just a bunch of wimps.
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 9:38 PM UTC
This is going to be painful for me. These folks think they're so heavy, evil, dark, and mysterious. (Ahem) Next to the crab, you are one of the biggest wimps the Universe ever farted out. Don't even ask for backup in a fight with these people, their excuse is, "I wasn't really sure what was going on!" With your low energy, you can barely fly unless you have been a constant train wreck, I may throw you scrap of respect. You just barely have the *** department down and I have kicked many a stinger out of bed. Emotional inside like a bag of **** lit on fire! You can't escape from the bag of your own **** show. No wonder you're so angry, all you do is repeatedly sting yourself to death. What a stupid species you are, indeed!
Advice: Stop with the whole tough guy/girl front. Everyone knows that when someone throws their hands back at you, you run away and cry in the corner like the little **** you are. So quit with the heavy and join Cancer.
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 9:02 PM UTC
What if I let you read my poems?
A window to my prowess
The edible part of this eccentric fruit
The beauty of this beast
The justification of this tongue-tied pride
What if I let you see me?
In an unexpected lightning
Caught off guard
No consciousness for good or bad
No apology, no self-regard
A mind without dogma or dead ends
No societal influence
Juried by mere conscience
So much love, so much violence
Hasty vengeance by the ARTLESS
Derailed from logic and peer reference
Governed by wimps and impulses
Nutrition and ***********
Nutrition and ***********
Mankind’s infamous purpose
Now..
Now let us go back to the green hill
The good soothsayer's teaching
The shackles of our being
Let us close our eyes... and Breathe
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 6:28 AM UTC
If not to tempt the temperaments of lesser men, I shall bludgeon the object of our obsessions again, just to watch the reddened britches go un-itched, as my grinning is met with dissatisfaction, impacting the over expressed whining of gentle wimps, flailing, and stomping as disgruntled chimps, flinging feces from the cages again.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 2:15 PM UTC
looking the speed
searching the inner peace
like flying on a bike, or
getting a hard on, by it.
running on the night,
120 to feel alive, my life,
in a way , becomes, the
eternal night ride,
thanks god
for the freeway, and
the eternal look for inner peace,
the zen state, i'm getting
trow speed
like flying, or surfing
on the street, every thing
is clear at 120k, like tantric ***
or those eyes of the past,
one of two, cool memories
in a past full of pain.
after all the pain,
becomes the good memoir,
in a night of speed, appears,
those strawberry memoirs
in the night ride appears,
sudden and clear,
the state of speed,
looking for the inner peace,
or the state of zen release,
looking,
the one good memoir,
and flying on my bike.
surfing the asphalt,
wishing she could go faster
wishing for the peace,
and wanting the creep to dissapears,
looking for the peace , and hear him
inside of me, a creepy voice,
trying to justify his lies,
asking me to be, after all the harm,
still ask for a hand out,
after all the damage,
dares to ask for something.
during the night, y forget the betrayal,
and become a free man, and the
burning area feels the wind
looking in the night,
the eyes of the past, or the kimera
that will never appears,
even the one that loves me,
back stab me, love hurts right.
looking the peace, or getting
a kick, on the speed,
looking the zen state,
getting a hard on,with speed.
hearing the claims of me heart to be free,
and getting a hard on, in the
process,
all is clear, at full speed.
tight, and clean, no creeps,
just the kick, i'm getting
trow that lovely speed,
like flying on a machine.
looking and wanting
waiting on the coward chick,
that loves and hurts me,
like a kid, on first grade,
hurting what she ******* loves
like a coward, or a slave,
on this creeps trade.
slaves are not **** or cool,
even with a lion on her back,
afraid, of the hyenas, or this creep
**** and lovely coward,
let go, or say it to my face
time's running out, and i'm
not waiting anymore,
life's
like the night ride,
and i'm going at full speed,
always on the fone, green dress
and **** skin , your heart
belongs to the lion , hows going to eat it,
and grabbing your hair,
screaming my name,
as you take me in,
like in the freeway,
**** and lovely coward
if you love me, set me free,
**** gambas, set me free
i'm on the freeway, need
to touch somebody, and you
need me like the sun, and after all
will you dare to say it to my face.
i'm looking for the rush of love,
and become a *** addict,
of some girls skin, and i'll find
the skin to become addicted.
and looking for the zen state
and the skin of a girl to be a free,
**** and firm, shes going to be,
a free girl, addicted to my,
looking for the lovely lioness
waiting to the one, how well say it
to me face, forgetting the creeps wimps,
and their pathetic harassment,
and take
my hand, and get on
top of me.
a **** lionnes that looks,
the creeps to their faces,
and jump on top of me, looking at them
and be free, next to me.
looking for the brave lionnes,
that will loves me , and deal with it.
and be free right next to me.
on a state, of zen speed...
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 2:01 AM UTC
This for the little brothers
And the widowed mothers
To the Sunday morning snoozers
And the gamenight losers
To the wimps in the schoolyard
And even the bullies just down the boulevard
Shake the dust.
This is for the shopfront greeters,
The youth group worship leaders,
For the early morning joggers and the late night bike riders,
And for the boy who's crush loves someone else
For milk crate ball players,
And for the wallflower haters
Plant the forests.
To the sleepers and the dreamers,
And to the bed-wetters,
As well as the lonely love letters
To the broken hearts who write poems
And the broken souls that stole them
To men who work for a family they never see
And girls who want a lover but they'll never be
Split the seas.
For the heavens you have lived and the hells you felt you have gone through,
For the demons who have overcame and the ones yet to be overcome
For the ones who have stuck with the Lord all the same
And the ones who don't yet know His name
For the fair-weather friends the friends 'til the end
The overnighters and the stories told at campfires
Move the mountains.
This is to the poet, and lovers who don't yet know it
To the writers but it's just a hobby,
The Debbie Downers who can't stop me
This is for the authors whose books is left unread on dusty shelves
And the girls who hate the look of themselves
To the ones, that when it rains, they choose to sing
And the winter you must endure to reach the spring
Shake the dust.
This is to all of you,
and I will say it again: shake the dust.
Because from the dust you were made,
and to the dust you will return.
So let this poem not be mere words that barely flow,
may this poet not just be another kid,
too quixotic to change the world.
But might my poetry be the notes
which your words are carried by.
Let them swing and sway,
a piece to our battlecry,
some sylable in your life story.
Because from the dust you will rise,
so carry the dirt with you
and take the world by storm,
for the ground you scrape from your palms
is the story you form.
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 12:58 PM UTC
I send lil paper ships sailing down the curb
as the crows and the vultures attack the trashcans in the suburbs
I watch the rich kids driving there nice whips
but they are a bunch of wimps
one punch in there lip
one kick in the knees
and they'd just limp away
because even though im a poor kid
ive lived more life
even though they call me skid
even though im a skinny kid
id still bust all over your girlfreinds ****
and in the black light she would shine like a florecent lightbulb
while your sitting on your golf cart
im making **** noises on the belly of your women
making her my mistress
making the matress squeak
as my lil paper ship sails down
who would've known what was happening when i was making it
now were both laughing
because when you get home
your gonna be kissing my ****
ha
ha
ha
Aug 4, 2011
Aug 4, 2011 at 12:01 PM UTC
A warrior with clean armour
Has not seen real battle
He bares his fangs
But bares no scars
A bladeless sword
All for show
A conversation piece
For cowardice not war
A rusted knight
With a heart of gold
So cumbersome
It became a curse
A war for wimps
A social life battle
Casualties of black sheep
Are the real fallen soldiers.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
♠ ♠ ♠
Pseudo-Oriental visions
Haiku, Tanka, exotic terms
Vapid New Age vibe-transmissions
proliferating eastern germs…
Anarchistic thought collages
Existential lacerations
Nihilistic heart-massages
Incoherent lamentations,
Communism on a mission,
grievance-mongering, stewed in hate;
pounding Fascist fusion/fission
chanting harshly “ours the state”,
Hymns to Gods who choked on *****
undertaken in overdose;
rocks that never rose to comet
rolling – but ending comatose,
Hipster ironies, tongue in chic
Metro-wimps who feign the normal,
Redneck rantings up the creek
semaphoric, semi-formal,
matron’s maudlin observations,
motivational hypnosis,
(sentimental medications
offered prior to diagnosis),
coldly abstract neo-nonsense
read (by dullards) as cutting edge,
letters void of correspondence;
well-trimmed words’ linguistic hedge.
Climate whining (tried untrue)
with eco-prophecies warning doom,
Wiccans and tree-sprites trying to
undo the curse and lift the gloom,
Feministic tribal ranting,
Race-complaining, agitation,
GLBT gallivanting –
all are blights upon our nation.
Boring modernist excess,
(no longer daring – formulaic)
confounds – yet never can address
what’s wrong, and so becomes prosaic.
Lists like this are perhaps the worst;
another symptom of our times:
we who are woefully unversed
in rhythmic complaining that rhymes.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
lucky dai the builder,
was ill at home in bed,
a breeze block missed his shoulder,
but hit him on the head,
he'll wear a hat and steel cap boots,
when in work tomorrow,
the block bounced off his nut,
and landed on his toe,
he thought that health and safety,
was only meant for wimps,
his helmet sits upon his head,
and wobbles when he limps.
Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 2:11 AM UTC
Born into a dark night village
Crawl disgustingly around the wood
Flame glowing with annoyance
Bowed by pained face of cruel looks
Swings back, front, sideways
No laughter but doom weather
Hopelessness after others before
Questions abound in grim faces
Will this be different or more of the same?
Kids run around innocently in frenzy welcome
Into their world of despair and pain
Laughter for the sake of hopelessness
Big brother arrives and name attractive
‘Been to' ‘go bring am hope' the mother wimps
Papa and mama wonder about ‘morrow
Hopelessness must be conquered
No more pain, no more sorrow
School three miles in crushing sun
‘Gari' and groundnut in pockets
Danger lurking in the corner
But the storm inspires for ‘morrow
The journey seems long but hope not far
When all rewind from the past of yore
Triggered by that which was said of old
Hope replaces despair and bitter, sweet
It wont be long my brother
Try hard folk and don't miss the price
The pain is deep but the gain is here.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
I stand in a meadow, confused and lost,
Amidst a war won, before it's even been fought,
There are screams of agony, and flailing limbs,
Muscled warriors, and butchered wimps,
And then a river of red, not water nor blood,
Bearing men of scarlet, all seemingly mad,
There is a scream, then the world turns cold,
A revelation of the future passed on, but yet untold,
I stand in the middle of it all, invincible it seems,
A god yet a mortal, in the world of dreams.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC
Excessive threats lead to fear of death
i know your scared but what do you want me to do
their bigger than you
and you can put me out with swing and shout
call the cops i know their ready for this
why would they care unless they can get a kiss from a harem
who is attractive enough
to save you from the big tough.
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 4:41 AM UTC
If I could heal
You all
With one word
Love
Would be the remedy
Let me
Remind you
That clichés
Are cliché
For a reason
Repetition
Is the father
Of Learning
Reciting
What I’ve learned
Is the mother
Of memory
Let’s not forget
How
We got here
I could bore you
Of how
The Lore taught love
But you’d rather
Be excited
With
The hoard of hatred
Spread
Like gossip
My gospel
Isn’t hostile enough
For you’re approval
Violence entertains
The vile lance
Pierced
The heart of a poet
The crowd applauds
Appalled
At the wimps
Who whine about it
Jan 15, 2011
Jan 15, 2011 at 8:32 AM UTC
Greetings from us at Homeland Security.
We hope you had a pleasant journey.
But keep in mind there's no guarantee
That you won't exit on a gurney.
You should love our border camps,
Which are still progressing in stages.
We have “subdivided rooms.”
(We don't like to call them cages.)
We strive to stifle criticism.
Please ignore our critics' lore.
Doesn't everybody love
To camp out on a cold, hard floor?
We provide you with a blanket.
What? One is not enough?
Crowded rooms should keep you warm.
Exposure to germs will make you tough!
Lest you feel our detention centers
Are too uncomfortable or stark,
We leave the lights on for twenty-four hours
Daily in case you're afraid of the dark.
What? You say you need a doctor?
Come on, beggars can't be choosers.
Toothbrushes? Toothpaste? Soap?
Those are just for wimps or losers.
We all want your stay to be
Just as pleasant as we can make it.
True, some have died, but they’re
The weaker ones who cannot take it.
If your kids were taken away,
We don't mean to disrespect you,
But since only God knows where they are,
Then we'll let God reconnect you.
Locking kids in windowless
Warehouses in our recollection
Is a way to offer the kids
Security and protection.
If perhaps you’re seeking asylum,
One little thing might give you pause:
The president is working on
Ways to change asylum laws.
We know the whole idea of camps
Polarizes, or causes a schism.
In figuring out what to call them,
We prefer the euphemism.
So, enjoy your stay until
The powers that be decide your fate.
If you’re lucky, you’ll get a shower
During your long, protracted wait.
-by Bob B (6-24-19)
Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 9:00 AM UTC
The day began early. This morning’s sunset was exceptionally beautiful, cloudless in fact. No rain forecast whatsoever. Clearing cobwebs seemed imminent. Suddenly without warning, huge spiders appeared, some with large boots, others smoking wooden pipes. Very scary business. “She’ll go soon” said one massive spider smiling confidently. “Too right” announced his neighbour. “They all follow suit, petrified like wimps!”
Fortunately brave’s my middle name. Appearing unafraid or “wimpish, shakily but slowly I gingerly edged towards a door which had been left conveniently open, muscles let rip, brain cells sent messages “red alert”, firing tendons and ran. I’m not that courageous!
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 1:53 AM UTC
Our way is the right way
Just like ****** has shown.
We will carry automatic weapons
And you must leave us alone.
Keep your liberal mouths shut
Give KKK politicians a pass.
If you don’t our President will
Okay thugs to kick your ***
You had your own way too long
With jerks like that FDR guy was.
We have taken over everything now.
Haven’t you heard the buzz?
We don’t care about equal rights
And **** and blacks and Jews.
We have plenty of Republicans
And Fascists we can use.
We’re going to beat you up
We’re going to **** your kids
We’re going to blow you up
’Til you agree with what we said.
Our way is the right way
Yours is a piece of crap.
We will walk all over your rights
And give The Constitution a slap!
We can take those stupid laws down
That tell us to agree with you
Or hear you or behave ourselves.
Any time we don’t want to.
So quit all your sickening whining
About the things we have done
Like rioting against you wimps.
Your day is over, we have won.
We won because most of you
Like the Germans of the forties
Let spread our righteous hatred
In murderous, cleansing sorties.
So don’t look for magic tricks
Played by a powerful evil elf.
Everything that is happening now
You can only blame yourself.
We’re going to beat you up
We’re going to **** your kids
We’re going to blow you up
’Til you agree with what we said.
Our way is the right way
Yours is a piece of crap.
We will walk all over your rights
And give The Constitution a slap!
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 2:39 PM UTC
Behold this moment of stillness
Before your eyes is us
The witty, the broken, the loved, the happy, the angry, the starving, the sexually abused, the widows, the wimps, the selfish, the great, and the dull
All with a voice
All with different dreams and screams released or withheld
Apart, alone, dying
Together, in company, dying
Cycles and roles at their finest
Dressed for the occasion of an unexpected death
Naked for the occasion of a predictable sunrise
Time is impeccably relevant to quenching the thirst of desire
Be not only a dreamer, for life, is already a dream
Everything you are is now, and now is all you know
In a fools ego rest the space to which fears the hollow truth-
A voice with no meaning and passion with no action are as useless as
a city of fools
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 6:37 PM UTC
*Dedicated to William Shakespeare, Gene Roddenberry,
Lewis Carroll and Franz Joseph Haydn.*
The power scythe roared and quivered;
Had he chops, he would have licked them -
So rabid was he to taste the fray.
Verdure clad stalks by the thousands
Eschewed all feint of
Futile resistance -
Falling like spineless wimps
Before the carbon breathed Leviathon's
Cyclonic advance.
Pausing only to quaff
A long draft of energy potion,
Toro relentlessly carved a swath
Across the battle ground -
Vorpally snicker-snacking his way
Toward the mission's
inexorable termination.
A single command
Brought the roaring vortex to a halt.
Victorious, sans medals or ceremony,
Captain Toro was debriefed
And escorted back
To his lonely barracks
To sleep, perchance to dream
Of past and future triumphs
In the jungle wilds at the confluence
Of Prairie and Missouri Avenues.
August, 2007
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 11:42 PM UTC
Wimps, whiners and data miners.
All gathered here together.
Crooks, embezzlers and free ***** guzzlers
And hookers dressed in leather.
Lying, cheating and some **** beating
And even some ****** games.
Walls at borders and restraining orders
And finding others to blame.
Cheaters, beaters and lying pig-men
Trying their best to succeed
In the race for worst ******* of them all.
One more ripoff is all they need.
Blaming, shaming and gerrymandering
Doing their best to become
Millionaires, billionaires, zillionaires
Ruling absolutely over the dumb.
Mewling, puking and crying out loud
Losing stolen funds they invested.
Society defeafened from applause and hurrahs
When the lot of them are arrested.
Ripping, tearing their thousand dollar suits;
Begging their thousand year old God.
They’re the twenty first century Washington batch
Of Wynken, Blynken and Nod.
Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 3:04 PM UTC
Written by: Thando DeBrokenPoet
Book: Simple Poetree
_
I Feel Alone,
Like A Statue
Living In A World That Is Unknown
_
I feel Ignored,
Like No One Cares-
If I'm Sad Or Bored.
My Life Is Filled With Nightmares
Which Steal My Sleep.
_
Pain Went So Deep,
at Night-time I Soak Under My Pillow And Cry
Asking My Self Quetions With too Many Why's.
What's The To Live For
This World Is So Cold.
_
No Family
No Friends
Just enemies
And rivals.
_
If You're Reading
This Note, Help My Bleeding
Heart.
Because
it's Torn Apart.
_
Depression filling My Soul
Darkness, A Big Black Hole.
No one Can Understand This Pain
Nothing To Lose, and nothing to Gain.
I'm
Just Some Reject From Heaven
To Hell.
_
I wish All Could Go Away
So I could Live A Normal Day.
Oh, God Is So Far Away
Who Can Brighten My Day?
_
My Thoughts Are Unkind
Every Time The Pull Me
to My Darkest Side,
And
If Only The Future I Could See.
_
I Keep Pulling My Self Together
But, Will This Loneliness
Last Forever?
Because
I Wish To Ascape This Sadness.
_
Tears All over My Eyes,
Scars All over My Hand,
Blood All Over My Legs
And Rope Surrounding My Neck.
_
To You Cruel World, You Thought I Was Weird
Sitting The Alone.
You Thought I Was Mad
for They Bullied Me, And I Smiled.
No It Was The Feeling Of Pain
Tickling My Brain.
_
No One Could Understand The Pain Of Orphan
Birth Pains Are Less Than Those Of An Orphan.
I Sit Alone
For I fear To Be Treated
Like Brandon.
_
The Wierd Guy On Generations,
That Coloured Dude
Whose Different From Others
In His School.
On earth We're Treated Like Freaks,
Kids Laugh at us Cause We're Wimps.
_
Death Taste Bitter
But Life Ain't Better.
Suicide Bubbles Keep
Blowing, Wierd Voices
"Join Us Thando, These No-love
In This World For You".
_
"Those Who Gave Birth To You,
Dumped You In ******* Bin
If They Rejected You
Who Will Love You?"
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 9:02 AM UTC