Personal Demons
Self-absorbed
Mind-fucked
Little cunts
To afraid to confront
There personal demons
They want me to do it for them
They want me to forgive them of there trustpasses
I'm not that nice of a human being
They wanted to travel down there own destructive path
So I'm not going to put the pieces
Of there fucked up life back together again
I have my own problems
So as soon as I'm finish writing this poem
I'll start on my fucked life
11-10-04
poem by Brandi Young
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Dog Lover
I don’t care for Reggie’s dog.
It leaps backwards like a circus trick
when I make a friendly move towards him
Crazy fucked up dog
I don’t like Carla’s dog either.
It retreats to the kitchen when I approach
And acts like I’m the jinx of the world.
God damned fucked up dog
Tom’s dog likes me
But it likes everyone.
How can you just reflexively trust everyone?
You’re bound to get smacked doing that.
Stupid fucked up dog
poem by Michael Philips
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fear fucked
A devastator
A mind fucker
A stimulant
A buffer
A war bringer
A killer
Now that I've implanted this
Do you feel the same way?
Do you embrace it?
Are you batman by heart?
Are you fearless?
Are you as mind fucked now as you are fear fucked by your own fear?
Outnumbered
I don't want them to be encouraged...
To show now the right thing to do
With a renewed flourish subdued
In public speech.
I want them fucked up!
And flogged for all to view!
To show their deceptive ways...
Have been enough
Throughout the years and countless days!
They have been outnumbered by patience...
Tolerated by sorrows.
Excused by empathy,
No demon has heart to borrow.
Good deeds have been sacrificed.
Stomped to the ground...
Drowning out voices of lives being too nice!
I want them fucked up,
If ever I was asked for my advice!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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She Has Skeletons In Her Closet
She doesn't want to admit who she is
Cause she has too many skeletons in her closet
She doesn't know that she's on a self-destructive path
But she doesn't even know it
She wanted to keep the relationship going,
but no one informed her it was over before it started
Cause she's not aware of her skeletons anymore
She thinks ignoring them will make them go away
Boy is she misinformed, but she didn't get the notice
She's gonna have a rude awakening
I wish i could be there to help her through it
But she fucked that one up
She had a clue but then she took a wrong turn
She's going to have a hard life
and no one can help her
(4-3-05)
poem by Brandi Young
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Just Can't Take This
I just can’t take this anymore
I just can’t take this shit any longer
You drive me insane
From all your fucked up stories
Why can’t you go away
And stop all my pain and misery
I just can’t take this anymore
I just can’t take anymore shit
From your sorry ass
You think your a bad ass
Just because all the girls like you
Get away from me
Leave me alone
Get away from me
I can’t take your shit any longer
Stop!
Keep all your sorry fucked up problems to yourself
And stop driving me insane
I just can’t take this shit
I just can’t take this shit any longer
Just get away from me
poem by Brandi Young
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hiddin
Thinking about you
Every memory runs through my mind
Everytime I remember how much you love me kills me more
Because im trying to keep a smile on my face
so everyone thinks im okay
well no oneneeds to know how fucked up I really am
But just because I smile doesnt mean I dont feel pain
All I can say is how much I miss her
the girl that stole my heart
is the girl that I hurt
well no one needs to know how fucked up I really am
hiddin by bleach blonde hair and a geeeky smile
no one understands the kind of pain I feel
because im hiddin behind a smile
poem by Morgan Ederer
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In the ruins of your game
Im stuck in the ruins of your game.
I remember everthing clear as day.
You told me it would be a fun game.
Fun for you mabey.
It was sheer hell for me.
In the ruins of what you did.
I'm left in an everlasting pain.
It was left within the wake of what you did.
Im left within ruins.
Im in a shell of my self.
Im angry really bloody angry.
It all knaws away at me.
Eating its way through me.
Am I a bad person?
Was it my fault?
Is the unaswered questions.
In the ruins of what happened to me.
In the ruins of what you did.
Its left me me fucked up in the head.
Im a really fucked up person now.
It all in ruins.
Im a mess.
Im a bad person.
You left me in the ruins of your abuse.
Left me to pick up the peices.
You just luaghed at me all the time.
Amy Kerswell
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Villanelle
Katie could put her feet behind her head
Or do a grand plié, position two,
Her suppleness magnificent in bed.
I strained my lower back, and Katie bled,
Only a little, doing what we could do
When Katie tucked her feet behind her head.
Her torso was a C-cup'd figurehead,
Wearing below its navel a tattoo
That writhed in suppleness upon the bed.
As love led on to love, love's goddess said,
"No lovers ever fucked as fucked these two!
Katie could put her feet behind her head!"
When Katie came she never stopped. Instead,
She came, cried "God!," and came, this dancer who
Brought ballerina suppleness to bed.
She curled her legs around my neck, which led
To depths unplumbed by lovers hitherto.
Katie could tuck her feet behind her head
And by her suppleness unmake the bed.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Donald Hall
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Remembering An Account Executive
He had a back office in his older brother’s
advertising agency and understood the human asshole.
He turned his father’s small inheritance over and over
on hemorrhoid ads between three-hour lunches
at the Plaza every day and cocktails at five-thirty
with different dressy women waiting in our front office.
We joked that he fucked them up the ass to make more customers
and were nauseated by him because he picked his ears
with the lead end of his lead pencil as he argued and argued
hemorrhoid copy with us on nauseating Mad. Ave. mornings.
Why argue? It must have been for executive power-feelings
because the copy never changed. Every week, the poor
bleeding assholes bought the shit. When my mind
began to get fucked and go as black as his inner ears
I quit as broke as I began, remembering his prophecy:
that the last working television set in the world
would be showing a hemorrhoid ad for ANUSALL
at Armageddon, that it would have been written
by him, that he would be watching it at 6:00 P.M.
in the bomb-cellar lounge of the Park Plaza Hotel
with a blonde’s ass in one hand and a scotch in the other,
and that he would die happy, with his old man’s
money intact and his asshole too, unlike us prat-boys.
poem by Alan Dugan
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I Dont Know Why I Write
I don't know why I write
I write every night
life can get confusing
Absolutely nothing is black and white
Gotta take a step back if you have to ask if it's alright
Life gets a little confusing when your living for the fun
every single nights fucked up and your alone when it's done
Life gets a little confusing when your living for the love
because the sacrifices we make can actually fit like a glove
If you want to live that life
Go ahead don't think twice
Regrets are the only thing that can break and ruin a life
I don't even know what I'm doing with mine
poem by ryan Cravatta
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Ramblings At 3am
It's almost 3 in the morning.
I haven't gone it sleep yet.
I've been listening to slam poetry for 4 hours now.
Don't ask me why,
Cause frankly I don't know.
Why don't you ask your sister.
I had to quickly use the potty
That's when these words came to my mind.
It's a little fucked up world in my head,
Although it's not much crazier then 911.
This may not make any sense to you,
Probably not even me in the morning.
Well sorry to cut this short,
But I gotta go.
Stop writing this poem,
Cause my baby brother is waking up.
I don't know where this is going,
But why don't you ask your sister?
If you don't have a sister,
Then ask your brother.
If you don't have a brother,
Then your probably one of them spoiled only child bitches,
But that's okay.
You can't help it!
Brandi Young
8-16-06
poem by Brandi Young
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Suicide my onnly way out
This is my one and only way.
Belive me I had no choice.
It was the only open door.
Im sorry.
Please forgive me.
Suicide was my only way out.
The only door that was safe.
Life and the world wasnt safe for me.
Every one was out to get me.
My loved ones some stolen.
Some loved ones taken to heaven.
Some loved ones I leave behind.
To those of you I leave behind
Im so truly sorry.
My life was a sad story.
It never did have any glory.
Bastards fucked with my head.
They even messed with my body.
I hate them evil fuckers.
But I dont have time to hate now.
Now Im dead I'll huant them instead.
Im so treuly sorry.
I had to slip through the door.
I grew wings to fly.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Ode to Cindy
Cindy was 15
when she
decided
to run away
to Texas.
Auburn hair,
fresh-faced,
freckled complexion.
Vibrant and alive.
A raspy, sexy voice.
A trusting, sweet,
kind smile.
Cindy was a
beautiful
youthful girl,
inside and out.
We'd smoke,
drink and
dream together,
while sitting
on
concrete steps.
Never lovers.
Just teens.
commiserating,
through blood-shot eyes.
While airplanes
passed above.
Texas had
plans
for Cindy.
Big plans.
It gave her a pimp
and fucked her
til it hurt.
And fucked her
some more.
And it beat her,
over and over again.
Leaving her
youthful face (the money)
free from bruising
free from scars.
That is,
until one day.
One day, about 2 years
after Cindy ran off
to Texas, there was
a knock at my door.
It was Cindy.
Not the Cindy I knew.
This Cindy had been
through a battle.
A battle for her life.
Beaten and broken.
A fragmented shell
of the girl
who wanted
to be a model.
The left side of
Cindy's
face, disfigured.
Beaten and paralyzed.
Her eye, hidden behind
swollen, plum-purple
and yellow pus.
Cindy didn't
deserve this fate.
No one deserves
her fate
Texas had big
plans for Cindy.
Awful, horrible plans.
Plans, that most
could never fathom.
And no amount
of living
could ever erase
her pain.
No matter how many
years may pass.
Cindy will never
forget the pain
of her naive youth.
Neither will I.
Watching The Chickens
the strong cock
struts its way
towards a
group of hens
and as there
are too many
of them
hens, the cock
in confidence
does what is
of most service
to its master
he fucked them
all
for the eggs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Final Plea
I'm sorry I have hurt you
I didn't mean it
Im sorry if i have been a bitch
It happens to the best of us
This is my finally plea
If you want my heart, its yours, take it
This is my finally plea
If you love me
Then show it
I'm sorry for the things that I've done that has pissed you off
But aren't we all human
I'm sorry for the things that I will do to hurt you
I fucked things up in the past so I apologize for the future
This is my finally plea
I’m flawed, as you already know
So you can take your chances
I'm sorry for what you had to go through
I only wish I could have been there
I'm sorry for what will happen to you
But at least you have me now
(4-29-05)
poem by Brandi Young
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Murder In The Clouds
I had been wondering off
In this dream by which I was bound
Until I was awoken
By some horrific sound
I had come upon
This murder in the clouds
Way up I could be
And I couldn't help myself but to see
That poor murdered girl I saw that day
Way up in the air
Had a far away look in her eyes
And blood filled her hair
That day to me
Was so very clear
And there was not a single thing
That I had to fear
I remember everything
The red on white
The evil glare of deathly eyes
And that final devilish bite
An oh so perfect time
Had turned very bad
When a happy little girl was murdered
All because of her dad
He crashed her special day
With a hit on her life
That started with rays of sunshine
And ended with a knife
All fucked up on drugs
With his arm in a cast
His daughters special day
He wanted to be her last
And due to
A backstabbing son of a b*tch
An almost perfect life was ruined
By one heartless bruin
Because it was on that gloomy day
Amidst all of the crowds
That a poor girl lost her life
In what is known as the murder in the clouds
poem by Matt Burgett
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When A Friend
When a friend drinks
When a friend bleeds,
Do not freak out.
When a friend takes a puff
Or says sex just wasn't enough,
Do not sit there and pout.
When a friend gets really high
When a friend is about to die,
Do not leave their frikken side.
When a friend is drunk
When a friend gets fucked,
Don't leave them, be there.
When a friend starves
When a friend barfs,
Let them know you care.
When a friend needs you there
When a friend says their scared,
Go see them, and just be with them.
When a friend gets abused
When a friend has just been used,
Hug them and say it'll okay, offer help.
When you're getting torn down
But a friend has a very long frown,
Be happy so that you can cheer them up.
Don't overstress
Dont become a mess,
You're life will only get worse.
If you need more advice
I shall suffice,
Just talk to me, or call.
poem by Kelsey Joe
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I Wanted To Start The Day With A Poem
I wanted to start the day with a poem
I heard instead a blessing for washing my hands
I wanted to start the day with a poem
“My eyes are lifted to the hills
From whence cometh my help”
I wanted to start the day with a poem
“Never did sun more beautifully steep in its first splendor
Valley rock or hill”
I wanted to start the day with a poem-
So I stopped and listened again
And waited to hear myself from inside
While my eyes were enraptured by the everyday light of things
I wanted to start the day with a poem
And the day started without me
And the poem said itself quietly
And waited while I happily wrote it down.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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From...
I am from alcoholic parents to getting adopted
I am from a world of hell to happyness
I am from a world of hate to hate isnt a strong enough word
I am from a world of lonelyness to a world of people
I am from girl to goth
I am from light to dark
I am from alone to wondering
I am from games to drawing
I am from peace to death
I am from a fucked up world where nothing is right
poem by Silent For Ever More
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The Great Room
books collecting dust
as old winos sleep
and students try
to fill their heads
with knowledge
and inspiration comes
out from the dead
while want to be poets
read rejections
typed on form letters
inside a public place
proclaimed to be
the largest library
in the city of Chicago
and I sit at
the smallest table
and read the want-ads
that might lead me
to my next job
because currently
I’m fucked and
absorbing idle time
like everybody else...
poem by Charles Lara
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