Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
effy May 2015
My worst fear is not death
I've been dead in my entire life
what I fear most
is to fall
deeply in love
to the man
I can't ever
call my own
NewCaleBoy Aug 2018
the extermination of the straight white male

soon we will be gone and the remainder carried over into zoos for
“safekeeping,” our DNA and ***** harvested for science purposes

you will be pitched advertisements

send $ to San Diego Zoo so they can save the few remaining
white rhinos (which they neglect to mention are in preserves in Kenya and the Sudan, but send $$ a way)
and the last three straight white guys
(surfer, techie, and an aborigine)
to preserve the species so the world can modify their cells
to stop sexism, racism and other male diseases
gonna maybe mate them with the rhinos,
which will be expensive cause of all the rhinoplasty,

so send me some
money, money, money

Ricky Rose Jul 2011
I wish I may, I wish I  might. I wish to have this wish tonight.

I wish it could, I wish it would. I pray it so, to be true.

A wish is a wish. I wish you so.

Yet a fantasy the wish of the minds yearning heart.

Constructing dreams, some of touch. Affectionate passionate ecstasy.

A wish I wish this for me. So in a wishful fantasy I reach for thee.

Only for thee to pull a way, giving to another. This truth I found

My eyes awake, to see my place in reality.

A dream a fantasy's illusion. I wish I may I might have God take away my foolish heart tonight.

Keep me bold, keep me stern this heart a heart I wish would yearn never no more.

Keep it right, keep it real this love I have 'Dear Lovely' is pure. Yup, ever more my friend!
Speak lightly  don’t abrupt my social anxiety
Said you’re Tired of me well that makes three
Since I’m always tired looking at thee
It’s 7:30 in the morning and sunlight looking oddly boring
Haven’t been outside only working mostly

These are all the sentences that go through my mind in split seconds
Moving like bullets my head is really a lethal weapon
Other option slow my movement or distorted to a bliss
yea like the way you miss
For endorphins, working only when the body is working.

Another confidence scheme towards my low self esteem.
Yea it works wonders only when the audience is at ease.
Dandy Lioness Sep 29
I giggle in pride writing the obvious, the ******
Kindergarten feelings
I feel sad, mad, happy, sappy.
Rhymezone, songs, and great works stealings

Roses are red violets are fine,
My poetry could be written by a child as young as nine
Punctuation is still a mystery?
Ironically, I teach Shakespeare! 

I will say, love poems and alcohol do not make good bedfellows
Sophomoric mumblings about a sunset's yellow
I take solace knowing even Rupi wrote bad poetry sometimes.
Yup, I compared myself to Rupi. Also, F**K this last line.
Mark Upright Mar 2015
an ample empty Sunday
nothing on the agenda,
the calendars cease their chirping,
it's a kinda free rarely heard

maybe will go see a movie,
walk alongside the East River currents,
rushing somewhere we don't have to be,
maybe we will practice rolling on the floor,
visiting and winding up the grandkids,
then escaping/leaving them with parents,
crazy high and wet & dry

maybe I'll cancel some credit cards,
crack open the briefcase of deferred questions,
have pizza for breakfast,
write half a dozen baker's poems,
finish some more of Dr. Zhivago,
that I started several years ago,
maybe, I'll keep her ******* in our bed,
releasing her when she releases me  
because I released her first

an empty day ahead
full of the oscillating,
a true east/west directionless
vibrating range of
ample possibilities
Still Crazy Jun 24
drrry spells

~for the r in all of us~

a normanative condition, a kitchen condiment, an un-relished
I’m-in-a-pickle relish, when there in no hot **** dogged doggedly poem perspiration in the fridge or anywhere to be found; nothing but a top sliced bun, ah, plain buns, old stale dog ones is all ya got left for dinner, during one of them there drrry spells that
no blonde tanned unweathered weatherperson ever
forecast correctly

Normanative? Oh yeah.

the tyranny of the white, white bread, the white, whittle ya down screen, couture-cold water from tap direct, neck bent, jugged to try and fail to wash down that lumpen ball of dog fur brain drain clog that’s backing up the paper words, in a stomach churning brine holding you back from reaching the top of the Mt. Everest,

rite Normanative?

Normanative.Oh yeah. Son of Norma and Normally.
It’s in the bibell, look it up!

she-he is my pooka, (nope, uh-uh, look it up) a six foot tall rabbit,
climbing up my brain stem, strategically strangling my words like
a flea killer collar round my neck, one that actually visually works,
my flea bit words fall to the floor, to live with the dust mites descendants of the ole south, drafts and rejection letters, all whose blessed memory may never die etc. etc.

that was the condition of my normanative condition when I dropped in (yup, look it up),

Norman sarcastically asking, how’s the weather up there,
any rain in that-northern-brain, down here it’s as dry as an southern old dog porch panting in Jewlie, breathiny out summer hottie poems, write out like it’s crazy going out of style, oh yeah, forgot
you don’t speak dawg that well.

so I don’t know nothing about your drry spells, just climb into
the hottest hot tub, staying all the summer months if necessary,
reading old poems about busted hearts, old dogs, unrealized loves that can’t be forgot, promises kept that one never made, other curses,
battlefields of yore, sweatin’ out the toxins till r
sends along a new one, rocking my toenails to my disbelieving eyes,
for I’m a mentally patient person,
whose never seen a drrry spell so long, that was not worth
wading thru, waiting for, till something busted out and
another thunderstorm of a literary good one, errr come along

like I said, I’m a mental patient man, still crazy after all these years...
(yup, that too, you could look it up if ya made this far)
Maziar Ghaderi Feb 2018
I got alotta things I want to say
so when you got nothing better
than to hear me mumble
the usual suspects,
the whole ensemble
I’ll be the one in leather
the one that was just across the hallway
at that office on main street
you used to temp at, ‘member?
in summer ’06
or was it fall of ’09?
it doesn’t matter
the whole cast is here, yup
each is reborn when i tell a tale of theirs
but only if you insist
that I got alotta things to say
and that i want to.
L B Mar 6
An old woman
her coffee
with swirling steam
that opens idle eyes
lets loose a stream
of thought....
She finds a place to plop
Bites in
to stale biscuit of the day
(yup, still has her teeth ok)
Takes a sip
dissolving it

--the bitter olive leaves
and ashes of a King*

in her day”
Nat Lipstadt Feb 26
a man privately asks, can you help?
you say, sure-no-hesitation

let me think on it for a day or two, he says
yet you act even before he comes back,
too late, you say, when he returns,
too late, he repeats in puzzlement,
yup, my check is in the mail,
cause one senses the need is dire plus,
plus you well recall the immutable obligation when  
a vague commitment of “just ask” was inked in a long ago message,
a poem born from/in the days when you slept in the car on the street

this vague promissory,
a more enforceable judgement in your own court of law
than any state construct or the judgmental eyes of a silenced god

word, honor, do.

thus it begins, an unwritten contract inked,
an egregious interest rate of 0% proffered and agreed,
commences a plain white envelope trickle,
a check inside, by postal mail, slowly it came,
month by month, inch by inch, Niagara Falls ^

years go by, and then comes a day,
when the accompanying check and its gift wrapped note says,
Paid In Full!

and so much for the tedious minutiae...

like kindness, I do,
Thank You and Your Welcome
are high on my list of proofs of
daily human extensions existential,

Paid in Full,
now rests at the top of the list

let me be blunt, the thrill of being a party
to a deal with no handshake, just coated in the
honorable words waterproof sealant,
with a person I likely may never meet,
made me so better assured of whom many claim I am,  
a mathematical proof revered and kept mind inscribed,
it was an aspirational ****, an unforeseen monthly blunt,
the best feeling good smile,
a kick in the pants about what really matters

being paid twice over and me,
getting by far,
the humanity confirmation,
the better half of the deal

write too often of honor,
and yet, will instinctual do again,
again overpowering my rays of will,
for there is no deflection, only reflection

for the glorious riches gifted and received,
without compare
the return on my honorable investment the best ever

oh brotherhood, oh brotherhood,
I am paid in the currency coined from brotherhood...
^ from a Laurel and Hardy routine
yup, true story
"This above all: to thine ownself be true"
which denies the escape
of being false to any human.”
Seanathon Sep 1
So you think my storm is done at last?
Just watch and wait till summers end.
When, with a quiet rumble I return.
As a single jar of lightning left.
To speak the words of thankfulness.
And to spark one more glorious storm to pass.
Nothing lasts forever. But for one more year. I'm just a notherner bringing one final southern storm to pass. God give me the strength and focus to do my best.
Next page