"wtf" poems
hey
sup?
nothing. u?
im ona date with u know who
dude I thawt u and her were thru
i did 2 dude I did 2
so how's it goin????
badly dude
she yelled at me for eatin food!
*** that's fuckingrude
well shes a ***** I shouldv knewed.
hows the date with such and such?
she said i used her as a crutch
she sad i don't talk and i text too much
jesus dude what a butch!
***** I mean
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 11:57 AM UTC
Oh my it is great...
to have this headache...
after trying
to understand
what numbers are real and fake
I don't see
how this will help me
through my course of
life
Will I ever be
trying to see
what the angle of a chair is again?
or will I ever need to use
how to find a hypotenuse?
I've thought and thought
for a very long time
and came up with a list
of jobs that would ever
need algebra
Math teacher
Crazy Math obsessor
Architect
Carpenter
scientist (on occasion)
contractor
Someone who builds triangles
kite maker
someone who makes graphs
salesman/women
Too bad that isn't any of the jobs I ever want...
Algebra...
oh how my head burns
and I'm sorry if you like it
I don't mean to offend
but Algebra just aint my jam
I'd rather be painting
or writing
or singing
I'd rather be strumming(my guitar)
be sleeping
or eating
I'd rather
go play soccer
or basketball
or ski
Really I'd just rather be free
free of the confusion
I feel after class
of the helplessness
that I have
towards math
Oh how am I going to survive???
PS. I still have to live through geometry (I **** at shapes)
pre calculous (I don't even know what that is) and calculous (Ugh ***
I hope you enjoyed my "radical" poem!
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 4:54 PM UTC
A few of you
have seen my face
One of you
has kissed my cheek
so ***
you can now see me
in full frontal ******
I am the ruggedly handsome
man,
who as usual
is on the floor looking for
something to hug
beside the *****
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 3:30 AM UTC
If you are looking at
Me and My Generation
Shaking your head
Grumbling ***
Walk away and do something
AMAZINGLY better
I'm good with that
Jack
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
The Viet Nam era was a witches brew.Mission creep in Saigon
The evening news brought the ****** trips stumbling into
my TV dinner, kicking over my Tang.
Bouncing Betty went bang
Beans and ***** out the can.
Guys in my age bracket knew it was safe cause 18 was the magic Number.
RESPECT
Simon and Garfunkel ,The godfather of soul.
What we.
Had Here.
Was.
Failure to Communicate.
We were reaching for the stars with one hand and
squeezing of rounds with the other. Bobby was in the crossfire
Martin would retire,
I remember.
Guys slinking back home with broken minds
Baby killers all. No love ,No jobs. COMBAT FATIGUE. PTSD Came later.
Got a monster habit, Nose running of like a racetrack rabbit.
Oh yeah Asian Strain Gonorrhea.
Penicillin
Penishmillin. WTF
Hendricks.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 3:25 AM UTC
I remember when MTV was in its prime,
A new voice to represent the new boom
Babies growing up since the 80s
Louder still through the troubling decades
(Maxed out credit no head room)
After —the punks in nirvana and rapping clergy
It was the only channel on
Youthful rebel yell —honest news
I remember it pretty well
Shaping us generation x y and Personal Jesus
New wave good bye to when
Childhood then without pain of malnourished
Africa or nukes threatening our
Cruel summers
Were we happier then?
So what happens to the music
Rockstars rip van wrinkle
Geriatric hall of fame
(No one lives forever
Reruns with the ****** & mr. Ed
Now that old neighbor’s dead)
Television
Nowadays
Seem more gangster
School shootings terrorists
On the train, kamikaze planes,
It’s all the same ole
Bling kablam oh bits
******* please
Redirecting our attention
To WMD
***
Where the hells are we?
I remember back then
On MTV —Nicki Minaj says
Between the hysterics of police brutality
She said Happiness is living your life
Without struggle,
That stuck with me
Because we all watch the tube
We all search for meaning
Sadly defining what happiness
May look like
Real World and paradoxical reality
TV
Para socially defunct
Clarity
Conditioned to continuously
Stay tuned
Brief message of empty
Hypnosis a pure form of business
Wall Street
Boulevard of broken dreams
I want my
Happy. What do I mean
To be?
Life ***** lately
The human condition
Talking too much
Refusing to see
No more talking heads too much
Bla bla ********
I want my
MTV . Happy .
My generation
We are the world
freedom And yes, Peace.
Man kindly as one
Symphony
And street, a melting ***
Of diversity
I remember the music
The future
I had hope to see
Behind the shades
Circa 80s 90s
(Fossils)
What time is it then?
When will we
Begin
Again
Don’t worry be happy
Run Forest run!
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 11:55 PM UTC
We friended on Facebook,
Scrolled down our profile pages.
Lived together in a virtual world.
Our images and websites we shared
With Instagram incisiveness.
Meet all my friends.
Block any you do not like.
All busy we are, doing nothing.
Like if you agree.
Laptops were not enough.
Users subscribed to Smartphones,
Iphones, and God knows what.
Google them if you wish.
And if you like my words
Retweet them.
But beware!
I now use words like lol,
And even ***
Hehe.
Sometimes I multitask,
Flicking TV channels
Like a Subbuteo striker –
Gone virtual by now I guess.
Flicking and flipping while I scroll
My laptop page.
I make new tabs
As I message many friends:
Emoticons exploding
All along the way.
I’m Tivo-boxing clever
All the time,
King of my domain.
So get your VDU lit up
And monitor my words.
Download my thoughts
Into your memory banks.
I hope this all computes.
Paul Butters
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 4:10 PM UTC
I'm not attracted to people. Never have, never will. See I might get aroused; it's like my body is rejecting my decision it doesn't care it acts on it's own, but I'm fine with platonic relations. We don't gotta touch just cuddle and kiss and I'd be more than fine, but I'm a pleaser so ill subject myself to such acts, In accordance to their needs.
*** doesn't come to mind when out on dates unless it's been made clear that ****** activity will be in place. When *** comes to mind all I can think is *** ugh no" The only *********** in my life comes from my partners needs. I'm their bf I'm supposed to cater to them. I don't mind it but I also don't like it.
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 11:00 PM UTC
I stopped calling
stopped texting
unfriended you on Facebook (LOL-not even my account....I don't have one) today
We've been friends for more than half my life
more than friends from time to time (FWB....BFF....NSA.....OMFG!)
and now it's like neither of us exists
Because you had to lie
you had to hold out....lead me on
to cover your *** for doing something I repeatedly told you to do ***
So painfully slowly I'm erasing you
deleting you
turning my mind off you (IMY :-( XO)
TTFN
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 8:15 PM UTC
Where are you Paul?
I'm in Cyberspace Mum.
My Pentium processor has broadbanded me
Into this wondrous realm.
A pixel powered virtual landscape
Peopled by avatars
Speaking Internet Slang.
FFS, *** are you talking about?
She asks.
In so many words.
I **** and ROFL at her incredulity.
It’s full of danger, that Internet, says Mum.
That’s true.
It’s full of paedophiles,
Spammers and trolls.
Hackers.
Chat-rooms and forums
Plagued by flame-wars
And spam enough to fill a trillion tins.
Sites full of viruses, Trojans, malware and spyware.
Cyber-bullies and loons abound.
But I just Love it.
A ****** addiction
Needing every fix.
A realm indeed of quantum singularities,
And imploding nebulae.
Paul Butters
(C) PB 3\9\2011 in Yorkshire.
Sep 5, 2011
Sep 5, 2011 at 11:09 AM UTC
Silent mornings and empty beds. I cook for one.
28 day snapchat streaks, *** “lol” and ***
Walking by your mom’s house. You’ll run out that door any minute...?
New friends in class. They’re temporary and they know it.
Job applications stacked on my bed. I’ll quit within 3 months.
Getting breakfast at LP almost every morning. They’re the only ones left who know my name.
I count the days until summer ends, and with it my loneliness.
37, in case you were wondering.
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 2:24 AM UTC
Log Kehte hai jo pyar karta hai...
Wo hi gussa karte hai....
To kya gussa aur beizzat Karne Me...
Wo farak nahi janta hai....
Kisi ke liy pyar Me gussa karna jayas hai....
Par...par...
Kya ush pyar ke naam par ushe jalil karna ulta kehna Abuse karna bhi pyar me jayas hai...
Janab Agar ishe pyar kahte hai to dur hi raho aise pyar se...
Jo khusiyo ke jagah udaasi de...
Khusi ke jagah gum De...
Izzat ke bajae beizzat kare...
Aur last me galti accept krne ke bajae ush glti ko aisa naam de...
Pyar me dono partner ko imp. Dena jaruri hai...
Ek jhuke to ye nahi ki app hmesa ushpe ungli uthao ushe jhukao...
Jb tk wo jhuk rahi thik hai jis din wo ye sochne lagi ki hmesa wo kyu...
To kuch bhi kar loge wo laut ke nahi aaegi....
Waqt se pehle kadar Karna sikh lo..
Aksar hame jiski kadar nahi hoti wo kadar tumhe waqt dilata hai...
Aur tb tak bahut der ** jati hai...
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 4:08 AM UTC
i can't ******* breathe.
i can't ******* do this anymore.
it isn't ******* fair.
why does he get to be happy?
when he took everything from me.
i'm ******* pathetic.
i can't even look a man in the eyes
and tell him how i feel.
and he gets everything he ever wanted.
**he ******* ***** me**
but somehow he still gets a fiance.
and now that ******* fiance is pregnant.
what kind of ******** is that?
*he gets everything he ever wanted,
and i'm still barely holding on.*
i can't fix myself, can't love myself.
he moved on with his life a long time ago.
and i am still stuck in neutral.
he gets to be happy,
when i fight the urge to stand in front of moving vehicles.
he gets a family,
when i am fighting for every breath.
he gets to have a life,
*when i can't ever seem to get my **** together.*
he gets to forget about me,
when he haunts me every day.
it isn't ******* fair.
because right now,
they are cuddled up and sound asleep.
happy together in their bed,
knowing that together, they are starting a family.
while i am lying in my bed, crying my eyes out,
because my rapist's fiance is pregnant.
all i can do is hope that one day,
this will no longer haunt me.
that one day i will kiss my child's forehead good night,
and crawl into bed with a loving husband.
all i can do is hope that one day,
i will get better.
because if i lost hope now,
there would be no hope for me to make it to tomorrow.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
Snuggled up
Warm and comfy
Sweet slumber
Under the covers
Best place ever
Dreaming ....
dream ...
drea ..
dre .
*** !!
.. almost fell off my seat
Cause I'm on the train
Not in my bed
Asleep ...
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 1:59 AM UTC
What's happening to hello poetry?
I don't need to know when the next soccer game is
And if I can watch for free.
Only football I know is American like the pride that's in me.
My blood doesn't boil the native sounds of my country.
Since my motherland is the Dominican
But America my step motherland won custody and raised me, since the age of three.
Don't forget is not who made you but who you fed you, who clothed you, who saw your first shot to a basket, who saw your first catch, who kept your body warm when you got another cold, and so on.
This is "Breakfast for Champions"
Just ask Kurt Vonnegut
What's happening to hello Poetry?
Show your art
Get your due diligence
Don't sell us your dreams don't broadcast your business unless is a story, book signing or deal.
I don't need a spell to make a girl fall in love. I got these words
For and to whom I might propose
Love or an indecent occasion of lust.
Let my words be the for front on this site but they're second to my actions.
Since I don't speak much b'cause my Latin accent.
What is happening to hello poetry?
Private messages by strangers who don't write or speak words.
Claim is urgent and as a poet
You know kind hearted, love lost, And so on...
You just might want to message their Hotmail.
Sad story under prosecution
Sad story the relation is abusive
Mocking the painful truths of some of us artist.
Just wanting a piece of the pie
But when I order I even eat the crust and never leave crumbs.
Take offense or not I just don't give a ****
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 7:44 AM UTC
***
Way to fleece…
A taxpayer
They’ve got us singing the blues
And we’re not down for all that jazz*… leave that to the Sax player
We remain mind boggled by these selfish ‘leaders’
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… ‘Dude! Way to bleed us!’
We’re already scraping the floor for crumbs… are they trying to run our finances into the ground?
“You work for us you pompous ********** it’s not the other way around...”
Midnight meetings in secretive silence
We preferred it when their nonsense made a sound
We’re ashamed and infuriated
But what makes it worse is that we’re not surprised
It’s like they strive to be truly hated… and yes, they've gotten themselves despised
More and more by the day
As each day goes by
We would throw them all out if we could
And our actions would be understood
Unfortunately we can’t do this for they are skilled at defiance
Masters of political science
And at it they are that good
Liars
Cheats
The campaigning politician...
Seducing us with deceit when he comes out on the street
To make his energetic speech
And then...
The elected Member of Parliament...
Only campaigns for his financial gain
Once he’s assured that for a whole term his position is permanent
That’s where they've slipped up, and I thought they were a smart lot
Schemious at least
Such a wrong move in an election year
Do they not fear… getting dropped by the voter?
Two hundred and twenty four MP’s… dead weight in deep water
And can’t swim
Should they have asked for my advice prior, I would have told them to simply cease and desist
“Do not dive in…”.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 3:53 AM UTC
a play date for us
Your serious eyes
i know You just
want this prize
trying to find a way
to make me play?
suckin' on my neck
while i try to deflect
rubbin' on my belly
tryin' to get me ready
hot lips on my shoulder
yea..
making me bolder
damn..Your hands on my collar
hot breath on my ear
i need to holler
You Ssh... nothing to fear
using all Your senses
those commands You speak
to break my defenses
oh ****
i'm so **** weak
and..delicious thoughts
i'm having about You
about rope, around me
one, two maybe three?
lets do a scene
You can tie me high
beautiful knots down low
squeezing my pie
i think You know
We have a code
You know the rule
i bring the fire
You own the fuel
Your voice makes me melt
and whats that scent?
is that your finger i just felt?
please...WTF? i just heard
my ***** what?
take me...
**** the safe word!
ive loss all control
i should explain
a play date with You
is delicious pain
Summer
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 1:07 PM UTC
i am abrasive
personality functionality deficit
yet i attract
beautiful women
to befriend the hermit of solidarity
will you go out with me
brought answers on no
my friend i could not lose
yet for the end of altruistic bargaining
i end up ahead
with false promises of a beginning
to an end my own personal
apocalypse
david lee roth would understand
that as i write in this
mindset
brought on by reading
778 comics in 12 hours
and a 4 day binge of job for a cowboy
my mind wanders
as insomnia sets in
would i be one of the great
dissociative poets?
a dose of the unrequited free associative minds
free thinking form of diet coke with a side of purple strawberries no i meant blueberries
my mind wanders
and yet i look forward to pad thai on wednesdays with cute blondes whom with i stand
the chance of a bat in the mosh pits of a metal band
suckers
i win
for you all know the taste of yellow mustard
ramble ramble ramble
this indie pop poem
would it be ironic to like it
if one truly hates the wording
and yet loves the idea
one of lives greatest life mysteries
alcohol i bid thee a fair welcome
nimble bubblegum monkey wrench
how long will you read?
enough to to see my lack of coherent sentence structure
or that i am a flawed creation
going on and on about existential non existent problems
for i shall exist regardless of my best intentions
as the wheel continues to roll on despite the moss covering this ice slicked track
metal boar slayer of a thousand suns would be a good metal name from sweden
the mooring dove coos to the beat of an undead drum
boo hoo boo hoo cries the witch at the stake
i am done
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 12:37 AM UTC
these tears drown me
as i stare at the screen.
the hearts of young Africans
still suffering.
they drown me into a harbor of guilt
be careful don't let those tears spill.
see we only care
when were forced to be aware
eyes stare st the screen.
*** does this mean.
hide yourself.
**** a gun.
living life this way.
fathers telling the world your not his sun.
girl you over here drowning,
creating rivers and streams.
claiming you know what being black means.
until the son goes down and you hear
about all these Black Men
Red Districting.
now you joining a fight
that barely has a side.
with way more history
involving you nor i.
whatever you say this is my life.
my choice, my party.
i can sit here and cry.
and deny, deny, deny.
while our brothers are being killed.
by ourselves more than them.
they don't view us as equal
and im not talking about them.
so girl play your part.
speak your mind
so that it looks like you fought.
for our brothers and sisters
who can no longer fight for themselves.
because our black people
tied their hands behind their back,
as they fell into wells.
of despair.
miseducation.
because in this world
as a gay
black man.
your just a beast with no nation.
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 11:07 PM UTC
**** *** Am iDoing
Making This Worse For My Self
iJust Begun
And Re Picked Up
This iS Were iT Starts.
Should Begin To Worry
iTs Way To Early!
Already On A Thin Line The Last Chapter iN My Life
till My Death Story.
iM Killing Me Slowly
By Taking This Substance.
My Times Ticking
My Hearts Beating
As iContinue To Use
More Like Abuse.
iCant Just Take
1 Line Or Smoke 1 Bowl
And Save The Rest.
iGo All About And Have To Do Every Last Bit.
Then iGo On Again To Finding A Way To Get More Of it
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
Bitterness is the taste of fiery love grown cold
On a lover's breath
Putrid is the smell of a well worn out fantasy
left hanging in your secret closet
Rancid is the look of unrequited love
On once vibrant lovers' lips
Hardened are the veins of a
desperate old fool
Longing for love
Cursed was the day I let you inside
The exquisite warmth
that is my beating heart
Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 5:58 PM UTC
Learning to sext and he puts mmmm in texts.
Read my dad's chat on Facebook and he writes that.
Read my mom's messenger chat and she writes that.
I don't write that to my net fiance I think it's stupid.
How can you type that when you feel nothing when
you sit there typing about doing ****** stuff.
I never had real life *** but is it supposed to feel like you feel nothing?
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
"Hey good lookin' can I buy you a drink?"
A Shakespearean muse cannot alas venture forth upon the fragrance of allure
*** Are you high?"
Love is my intoxication and thus I've become an 18th century daffodil who shall remain chaste and true
"Dude! You got to hear this whack chick over here. Offer her a drink"
"Hey gorgeous... let me buy you a round! What are you drinking?"
I drink from the wine of discretion and allow its strength to escort me on as a golden fleece protecting virtue, honor and consequence
"HOLY **** Dude! You weren't kidding. This chick is out there!"
"Hey Aphrodite... but why are you out alone with all your friends? Where's Zeus or whoever?
He rides the wings of Pegasus looking for our land of plenty while his heart resides next to mine in a dance of promise and expectation
"Well if it was me I'd be right here because I'd never leave you alone"
The heart cannot be bound by another; it must be allowed to roam free in the wilds testing it's will and only then can one know if love is fleeting or everlasting
**** babe, whatever you're on I want a case...."
Search your heart for your true self; it is not an acquisition but a dormant flower waiting for you to shed your false notions of manhood and prideful restraint
"Ohhh kaaayyy." Good luck with that sweetie... I think my friends are leaving."
The hard part is to say it with a straight face....
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 12:23 PM UTC
Many of you don’t know this,
but I wear my sunglasses at night when I write,
and I know I am a poet,
and I’m supposed to be both understood and misunderstood at the same time,
but I can tell you exactly why I wear my sunglasses when I write,
without any misinterpretations whatsoever,
I wear my sunglasses when I write to block the EMFs,
that emit from the the screen on my electronic device,
and make their way to try and make a way into my eyes,
it’s as if every electronic device is alive,
and they want to take every thing from us including our vibe,
and I’m not sure for sure if this is true so just to be safe I protect my eyes,
by wearing my sunglasses at night when I write,
I want to stay pure,
pure enough at least for you,
because everything I write and do,
of course I do it for you,
as cliche as that might sound,
please know that every word of it is true,
and I’m trying not to rhyme to much so these words don’t sound corny,
but I’m a poet I can’t help it I rhyme without even trying *** else am I supposed to do,
and as far as cliches I’ve got another one coming your way hey, “I Love You.”
I love you,
and I’m trying to stay as pure as I can,
so that I can be clear when I see you,
if we ever have the pleasure of seeing each other again,
as lovers or friends,
either way I am here,
and I’m open,
completely,
devoted,
and cleanly,
unfolded,
and ready,
high voltage,
but steady,
I told ya,
I’m ready,
I noticed,
already,
that you noticed,
me so deeply,
that I broke open easy,
as our emotions,
became confetti,
I told you I told you,
I’ve already been ready already,
and we’re in a storm,
and we’re lost at sea,
but we’re almost to shore,
so please just hold steady,
steady,
steady,
breathe,
steady,
steady hand writes the words,
before fingers become spaghetti and I can write no more,
because honestly I feel like I’m losing all control,
and honestly experiencing strange things then staring at screens doesn’t help,
help,
this is a cry for help,
I’m not scared to admit I’m scared,
I actually have only one fear,
I’m only scared of one thing and nothing else,
being alone.
I am alone.
You are alone.
But we can be alone together.
I told you before I’m totally open,
I told you before I’ve already been ready already,
and I’m trying to stay as pure as possible as I wait for you,
and that’s why I wear these sunglasses so that the EMFs don’t extra affect me,
many,
of you don’t know this,
but I wear my sunglasses at night when I write,
and I know I am a poet,
and I’m supposed to be both understood and misunderstood at the same time,
but I can tell you exactly why I wear my sunglasses when I write,
without any misinterpretations whatsoever,
I wear my sunglasses when I write to block the EMFs,
that emit from the the screen on my electronic device,
and make their way to try and make a way into my eyes,
it’s as if every electronic device is alive,
and they want to take every thing from us including our vibe,
and I’m not sure for sure if this is true so just to be safe I protect my eyes,
by wearing my sunglasses at night when I write,
I want to stay pure,
pure enough at least for you,
because everything I write and do,
of course I do it for you,
as cliche as that might sound,
please know that every word of it is true,
and I’m trying not to rhyme to much so these words don’t sound corny,
but I’m a poet I can’t help it I rhyme without even trying *** else am I supposed to do,
and as far as cliches I’ve got another one coming your way hey, “I Love You.”
I love you,
and I’m trying to stay as pure as I can,
so that I can be clear when I see you,
if we ever have the pleasure of seeing each other again,
as lovers or friends,
either way I am here,
wearing my sunglasses at night when I write,
and I know I am a poet,
and I’m supposed to be both understood and misunderstood at the same time,
but I can tell you exactly why I wear my sunglasses when I write…
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 12:32 PM UTC
REPUBLICANS
Former South Carolina GOP leader
kills dog to please God
Rob Beschizza
GERMANY
Germany's top domestic spy advised far right xenophobic political party on how to avoid being billed as "extremists"
Cory Doctorow
RUSSIA
Guy who pretends to ****** people for a living named Russian Goodwill ambassador
Seamus Bellamy
BUSINESS
We're going to be eating bugs really soon now, again
Cory Doctorow
POLICE
Surveillance camera shows off-duty NYPD cop dropping a weapon near man he shot in the face
Rob Beschizza
SCHOLARSHIP
When should the press pay attention to trolls, lies and disinformation?
Cory Doctoro
CORRUPTION
Wells Fargo: we stole houses and we're being investigated for ***** low-income housing credits
Cory Doctorow
LATE STAGE CAPITALISM
How Jpay gouges prisoners' families for "digital postage stamps"
Cory Doctorow
ALEX JONES
Alex Jones is suing the parents of a Sandy Hook victim for $100,000
Gina Loukareas
***
:(
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC