|
Poems about Weird
|
-
Light the candles, serve the wine
Look at these blanks, my clouds.
-
The rumblings of consciousness / nacreous illusions bloom / the mind-fields scarlet: / Poppies. Dead-eyed center. / / Gravity does not ex
-
-
You never gave but kept on taking
Until I sent you away, Oh Poppy
-
by marcusmoore
37 words, 24 comments,
on Feb 5 9:49 PM. In Adult, Dark, Personal, Rhyme, Nonet, Weird, Childly scary, Life, Fear
-
I took it to the wahing machine
and laid into it with a baseball bat
-
I am Mr. Laugh / I laugh and laugh and laugh / / I dont know how to cry.. / I wish i never ever try... / / There is no reason why... / Yo
-
calls. Claims It’s a tenor
when I’m sure It’s a baritone.
-
We all have stories and / we all have dreams / Most are boring / some interesting. / / Dont know it all / but I know one thing / I cannot
-
They make the music that divides you, / handed down as a thing to cry to. / And all their words / that treat you kindly. / There's nothing
by marcusmoore
352 words, 17 comments,
on Jan 29 5:24 PM. In Rant, Rhyme, Society, Sad, Weird, Life, Thoughts, Other, Perception, Music
-
I hate furniture, most
types anyway. They
-
And stares at the sun through her windows / Dawning the day by lifting her curtains / Exposing herself to the peach blue sky / She flirt
-
An eerie sound outside my window, / reaches in and grabs my heart. / Drawing me in, / pulling me closer. / Instantly becoming afraid of the dark. / / A shock of pain's sent to my brain / as shadows dance across my floor. / The air's becom
-
My children now it's time for bed, / the sky shows shades of orange and red. / You must be out of your mind to get into your head, / when s
-
You’re giving me Ashley,
but I need Mary-Kate.
-
-
-
-
-
-
DADDY / / Did you want me to grow up to be a whore? / Because all those nasty things you did to me / Ruined me for ever more. / You made it easier for all / those other scum. / Every time you made me cum / / / Yea, dad you made me a
-
and your cherry blossom bare bottom,
sneaking to the kitchen
-
-
sometimes the 200th kiss
is the fireworks.
-
-
“Just because I’m presumin’ / That I could be kind of human / If I only had a heart. . .” / -E.Y. Harburg, “If I Only Had a Heart” / / /
-
-
La tortuga swims inexorably / through my consciousness, / chastening me with his ageless stare. / / “Where is the hare?” I ask. / I always try to be irreverent / when I am nervous or guilty. / / “Dead,” comes the reply. / / He pitie
-
-
poke me with a thousand needles / I won’t feel a thing / haha that tickles / do it again / / gauge my eyes out with a rusty spoon / I’ll w
|
|
|
|
| |