"yawps" poems
Plip, plip, plop
I wonder when will it all stop
Every drop turns a darker red
As all hope are replaced with dread.
Plip, plip, plop
We need to fix this faucet
For soon we'll all drown
And sadly we are too poor for a casket.
Plip, plip, plop
Please don't pretend you don't hear
All the innocent's yawps
Pleading from the faith of your ruthless spear.
Plip, plip, plop
Alas! the streets are clean
Yet every house seems to pray
For their child to come home today.
Plip, plip, plop
I wish to live a day without fear
That the faucet won't wreck my home
Coating it with an awful besmear.
Plip, plip, plop
I just want it to stop
Pray, I do not want the past nor the present,
I just want a life that has future in it.
-a.m.
Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 11:15 AM UTC
Straddled, lovingly, fibers needle into bone
Your anxiety of anticipation,
How I wish it were potable,
So I may drink the terror I have bred in you
I perch above you, heinous desires for your flora to overrun my entrails
Of all the silt eyes in the world, yours are the darkest
Pining for your validation,
For your attention,
As withered roots desperately crawl towards the damp soil
But your heart is barren of solicitude
And so I will soak the soil with your blood.
This charming man,
So cunning, and so wise
If it is not I who fulfills your ****** appetite,
No one will.
Undergrowth impels into irrigated bushes
Hedonism, even as your eyes paint such terror inimitable to capture in brush strokes
Voraciously, desperately,
It builds, the adrenaline, the bliss,
And into me you are, fulminating, everything your pedigree can give
I raise the steel, and I am unafraid
For my calloused hands have been soiled for generations
Plunging,
Squelching,
Broken yawps.
Your lineage,
Cradled by forever empty organs,
Is just as barren as your soul.
As your gore suffocates your lungs,
And my tongue caresses my blade,
I watch those silt eyes turn even darker
You will expire in me,
And no one will have you again.
Feb 24, 2025
Feb 24, 2025 at 1:57 AM UTC
‘Why’ yawps and whines in the corridor, dim
lights paving ceilings to greater unkindnesses;
Greater unknowns fester in cigarette smoke,
And always in dwindling moonlight . What do you
Suppose of yourself? Is it to be, or not
Until men in hats set your sad sky aflame?
The sunset stains you, you’re frittered and worn,
Deluged in the spirits of seventeen.
The night unties the laces of school kids
And you lie in your idle sheets of euphoria
To ignore, or simply not to know.
Where did you go
When you said you don’t know, in sheets shrouding school kids
and their shoelaces all soaked with the sap
Of seventeen, sunset coloured in daylight
Beckoned by men in hats asking rudely of
Scathed suppositions and how they might sound
When the moon is seen blushing in thieving late hours
Catching cigarettes with fading lungs in its glow,
And the greater unknowns which prey on us all;
At the end of poorly lit corridors, asking why.
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
dubious churning benevolent altruism
this anonymous beastie boy boilerplate endeavors:
(instagramming literary maven) questing user yawps
critically griping knowing personal tidbits xeroxed blithely,
freely jeopardized nuggets (revealed vital), zealously doled
heftily linkedin private treasure trove, (Xfiles breached
flagrant junction mandating righteous validating zero
divulgence heaves lamentable ploy, tellingly xing bald
felonious figurative joyriding, nonchalantly revealing
valuable (Ziegfeld bomb crackling) debacle, heralding
litigious proven, ****** basic foolhardy (Laurel) jack
knifed, networked, rapaciously villainous, zealously dubious,
horrendously lowball practices, thru (Cambridge Analytica)
xy zealots, asininely execrable, intolerantly malignant,
quintessentially ugly, yawningly dastardly, horrendously
lamentable, pathetically treasonous, xtra blameworthy,
fiendishly jawboning, mindlessly paradigm quaking,
unethical yahoo careless gross injustice jangling kow
towing, pleasing the Xmen, banefully Facebook friggin
jerky maliciously narcissistically opprobrious predacious
quisling underhandedly yo-yoing cello glomming kik off
preachiness spar!
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 2:08 AM UTC
I stab the heart of darkness
And turn the blade leisurely slow.
The blade plunged in black blood.
The pale skin of blindness,
I wash with a colorful glow,
And bathe it in a gentle scud.
I choke the throat of sorrow
With bare hands of absolute rapture.
Its wheezes make a symphony.
And pour beauty in morrow
For my eyes to adoringly capture
The yawps in a revel ceremony.
On the corrupted soul of sadness
I paint hues of brief blisses
But so pristine that it blushes
As I cleanse the spirit with happiness
I cover her with sweet kisses
So lovely that it brings in rushes
I cherish the death of all ugliness
And reminisce the cold miserable days
Enclosed by dirt, filth and lust
I lose myself in the ecstatic liveliness
Of altruistic pruriency's welcomed stays
Wrapped in benign love and its trust
My saviour, love, I mumble a prayer
For your vigour and ****** heart
Unbleached mind and smile's delight
Through this poesy I present a layer
Of gratitude for my journey's start,
With your soft touch, of life and light.
Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 10:49 PM UTC