I was supposed to be your last meal.
I guess I spoiled too fast
Or I just wasn’t appetizing anymore.
I’m glad you’re not starving.

Understand being made into a freak will have you seek the depths of ones decete. They try and repeat the tales of your defeats as gospel in streets: all while I sit ignorant, and eat. Living as an aborrent being I find meaning in someone who struggles with feinding, its like a gleaming star about to die screaming "why didn't I bump that ultra light beemin? Just memein, I'd rather be alive, than dreamin." The star will eventually fail just like you makein bail, Dayle; and just as he, you'll be trapped forever in a cell with no one to tell about your life in this Hel.

Your Love is a gun
But I'm suicidal

Exercise is torture
But I'm massicistic

Eating Right is rat poison
But I have an infestation

Self Care is black tar heroin
And I'm a massive junky

Today I took a testosterone booster

Decrepit, old me. I want to be virile. I want to get ripped. I want you to want me. But I don't want you back. Because you'll just take my money.

Anyway, I think it's working. I got a white head pimple, like a goddamn teenager, 3 hrs after ingesting the pill. But I'm dehydrated and over the hill. Time to get jacked, I said to Jill.

Swole is the goal. Taurine and L-Carnitine. Creatine, and protein. Shake and bake. Whatever it takes. How long before my first heart attack?

written: 7/13/24 8:44am

floating back in forth between my ears

the echo of thoughts is never-ending

how can I be forced to endure the constant assault of words that breached my head

letters I've read on a glowing page, sentences whispered from an acquaintance

now these things have free rent in my mind, & continue to cycle through even though I do not latch

but how many times can a bug fly past your face before you're swatting back?

I've endured so much from words outside of my head

don't take my body as your own, the only sanctuary I truly have

well, had...

cause the outside has found the draft

and words I never wished to know the weight of come whistling in

thrashing back and forth against my psyche

prepped for a reaction and forced to hold calm

I finally have the right to reject untrue things said to maim me...

and I have to let it go

and take everything I requested to never experience

As she fell - Dead - the Crone -
Nitpicked her kitchen - One fixture -
Shy of perfection -

Twenty ankle-biters yapping -
Like a choir of angels -

only a high-strung
histrionic child
thinks words are violence
and silence
is simultaneously violence

and that free expression
is power
and that the social contract of rules
is oppression

get off your dumb hobby
horse, children
embrace true freedom
set a standard

fuck, fuck a lot
when it's your turn for words
shut your face
have a fuck instead

fuck to make
a fucker proud, penetration
take cock
take pussy

shit on your partner's chest
shit on both your
partners' chests
fucking is among adults

the sticky yellow strings
of key lime pie
eaten out of your viejo's asshole
the opium of the missus

let go of what will be
unburden yourself of what has been
and now, Ladies and Gentlemen,
President Free Speech's
glassy gaze

Green hills,rocky valley and a small steamer front of my house.

4 yellow ducks, 2 sons and 2 dads

Where is the moms?

They all quack at me for being nosey in their lives.

Also wanting the muffin in my hand.

So I threw the muffin at them and ran inside house, I am deathly scared of them.

I was bitten as a kid by one of them.

Maybe one of the dads here .

End.

I have swam in two oceans and strode the shores of southern seas, and walked beneath forest boughs both short and tall, on jagged peaks and in deep valleys.

I have seen mountain vaults of megalophobic scale and traversed the endless plains where golden grass grows in place of primordial waters, there between horizons.

I have walked in the valley of death and bore witness to the wrath of ancient gods in the scars the land still holds, and I have seen from the peaks of mountains silver seas transubstantiated in flaming gold.

I have stood in storms and hurricanes, and watched the curtains of night turn black the light of day, and I have braved the test of ice and wind, and more beside than I can say.

I have watched the sun rise in the east above the waters and I have watched it set in the west below the waters, and I have slept under stars and walked by moonlight, and gathered round the flames that banish night.

And all throughout I never cared to mark the names of places already there, of wonders seen by creek and tree, and mighty rivers to the sea, on barren sands and fertile soil, and bare across the stone of earth, o’er misted mountains and canyons deep, to see at last what might be there, beyond the horizon, to anywhere.

And yet they say I have hardly seen a thing, for I am an American and have never left my homeland. More pity them, to have homes so small with paltry wonders.

People do not understand that development and modernization have a price

Giving up plastic bags is not going to meet that price

it's just going to make our burning planet look that much more nice

The energy tax of creating paper bags so far outweighs plastic

that, even considering their permanence,

plastic is more plausible answer

The push against plastic has largely been driven

by the governments position

on reducing reliance on imported competition

China produces 30% of the worlds plastic

That's a statistic as close to a fact

as I've seen

It's never been

about saving the planet

you can't eat your cake

and have it

If you truly felt the desire to save

and can't ask yourself Camus' serious question

then the second best way

is violence

violence against houses

violence against factories

violence against guilds

all things human are the enemy

destroy the houses

destroy the factories

destroy the guilds

and the enemies

and the bread lines

and the art

and the state

and the music

and the hope

Violence against everything that is the human spirit

And that is the second best way to save the planet

If the cost of this planet is violence

then I do not want to save it

I love this planet

but this planet will, one day, die

One day, the sun will die too

Another day, all of the sky will vanish

One day, all of this will be nothing but one day

I want to believe the human spirit can pass that day

I want to believe in the most beautiful aspects of humanity

I want to believe those aspects will persist into infinity

I want to believe I can pass that day

I want to believe that my spirit will see the last stars

And I want the human spirit with me.

But I think, to do this, I have to give up the thing I find most beautiful about myself

I have to take myself apart

so I can stand next to myself

while two spirits see those last stars.

to save this planet

i have to take myself apart

and I am unwilling to do so.

It haunts me to know

that I know violence is the second best way to save the planet

and I lose sleep over the terribleness of war

and the hatred you can sell

and the hatred you can store

and i see it happening everywhere

and i know what i know is nothing

there is so much i ignore

and i can knock on this door

to my soul

till i feel it down

in my bones

and my core

but i still know

that i know

what i know

I wear the jewelry of an antiquated love;
Still, the ardent heat of adornment,
Tempered just young from near ago
Forge-flame. The peal, orange-red, but fades.

Why must I trim with the unpossessed
Beyond recuperative promise?
"Why," you ask?
So that it, they, that and them are all but lost;
All, but forgot. Though, forgetten I have!

In-mood (O Belonged!), chief of my bod' had forgotten!
Unfaulted—
Keepsakes! What episodic tokens you
flick memento-fevers of,
You lost and seasoned souvenir!
They entailed my fail-safe skeleton-key: You (flicker):
Excepted and brandished on my dirty hip (flicker),
Supposed unexceptional. The key broke.

Now I can't forget. I wear your rosary,
Wear your flower, wear your resolve
For me on myself,
Once as your bed as your bed is empty.

Still, I brandish you
Otherwise to stave me
Off my musings
Of brooded flashpoints
And repudiated self-love
For my own intrusive company
Inviting itself in
Your life.
And, my head is clearer.
And, my head is clearer.

I don your flashbacks;
And, my head is clearer.

~ E.M.

Edit: fixing the format/let me figure it out Edit 2: got it Edit 3: idk how to add a hanging Whitman space to my run-on lines, but there should be a couple of those "quintuple" Whitman spaces in this.

r/ShittyPoetry

A covert cult of quality

Though they claim to like it bad

Make it worse - they get mad

But r/CrackHousePoetry

Likes it bad as bad can be!!

rosses are red
violence au jus
in our complexity
we stew and stew

I bought myself many a game,
But I don't have enough time to play 'm!
It started when they-all
Were listed on sale.
These games keep me up till 3 a.m.

Does it slam?
Does it rhyme?
Does it have extra rhythm?
Can you write it?
Can you recite it?
Even if you're not all with it?
Will it make you feel?
Would that break the deal:
If I think a poem is just exactly only what's in it?

the house of crack
awaits of those
whose recalcitrance grows. . .

is your 12th step on track?
have you picked apart
the rug yet, son,
to look for crack?

(. . .yet end up smoking parmesan?)

creativity is not lack of constraint,
it is performance within constraint.
one must have respect for constraint,
just a few simple rules establish constraint.

they scream, they yell.
with such sophistry they tell me
that Formatting is Fascism

has reason now fully flown, son?
just what kind of crack you on?
try on a challenge or two
push yourself to excellence.

there's no mystery here
this subreddit is a complete disaster
and the rules are clear
the rules, the rules
like crystal they are clear.

ink a tattoo
of Rule 1 and Rule 2
take a position, too
have an opinion, have a backbone, take a stand.
Make Formatting Great Again.

An Art-thoritarian rules what we jot

Declares what a bad poem is

And is not - Not to be rude

Mr. Sir or Ms - Who are you to say

What bad poetry is!?!?

You are the love of my life, I was your occasional Saturday night

I've been left behind, hurting when you never wanted me beyond Sunday morning

How can this be? How could I be so naive?

I believed what you said that December, about wanting to do and be better

Why did I believe you would? Just because you said you could? Or did I believe you could just because you said you would?

Now something seems so much colder about those lies spoken in December

We were still so new but even then I knew I was in love with you, you said you felt it, too

You said you wanted to do things right and we never even had a fight …

So how can I forget the night you put your hand over my heart and pushed me out of your life?

You said I'd done no wrong and asked me please, just move on

I can honestly tell you that I've tried, for over 16 months I've tried. I've written, I've grown, I've begged and pleaded and oh how I've cried.

Now I still write but I don't grow. I can't move on, there's nowhere to go, no place to take my lonesome soul

I still beg and I still plead but really I just hope to breathe

And I still cry, oh how I cry … but I'll be honest, I no longer try

You are my golden sun, my silver moon and there is no getting over you

A man grown,A groan he ails,Drunk too many ales,Pale, after a pail.

Since eight, cents paid,He ate.Then, in the air,A thing not fair,

A whisper, from the heir:“That hare, by the fir,Has no hair,But fur

often walking
down a sloping street
the latching gaze
of the passerby
requires the succulent approbation
that only a big fat wiener can provide
a big fat wiener with mustard
for everything else, there's mastercard

I’ve often wondered why a man burns a cigarette. Is it the touch of burning tobacco? Or is it the rush of burning ones soul? The buzz of nicotine, the knowledge that it’s killing him? Perhaps it’s a third thing, hidden in the smoke.

I think it’s her, sitting next to him. Her eyes, her stories, her smile. The way she inhales, the way he watches. The smoke billows from her lips, the grin slides across his face. He can’t say it. He never will. But that cigarette isn’t a vice, it isn’t a sin. It’s a lie spun in smoke, an excuse to sit with her.

Why does a man smoke a cigarette? To sit with a dark haired angel that would never sit with him.

bring me your tired, your poor

old shitty poetry yearning to break free

and format it (or add an exculpatory flair that will retain your creative license)

shitty poetry is important

I wish people were as pretty as pictures made us be.
I wish this wasn’t such a miserable reality.
I wish there was something other than drugs to bend the need
I wish there was a way for me to find what is actually pretty

I open my eyes and as far as the eyes can see
Endless skyscrapers and a smog covering this entire city
I’d go anywhere if I could give me some peace of mind
i can’t leave the memory of what I’ve left behind

And if I could erase the past I wonder what would I find,
Not let my past mistakes paint my reality im blind,
To what this world has to offer for all I see is crime,
Wherever there’s people there’s pollution in time.

Yet I await the hope someday love can win
I’ve seen love blind prejudices and judgement
It can create and topple cities brought to ruin
I hate how it’s the only thing I’ve believed in.

I wish people were as pretty as books made life to be,
I wish storybooks were more common and not tragedy,
As far as I look I see money making schemes
This world robs most from what is, and should be.

Dear r/ShittyPoetry poets,

The subreddit is introducing a new feature called

https://preview.redd.it/b2xmlohp2kbd1.png?width=316&format=png&auto=webp&s=5b86734870165cd01bf2171e3809749b8742dd47

This flair can be attached to posts

For shittypoets who would like to

retain Poetic License over their poem's formatting.

To add this flair click the Add flair and tagsbutton when creating a new post

https://preview.redd.it/r5b8rj4z2kbd1.png?width=732&format=png&auto=webp&s=42feb49b73a7a1352beaa12d56f3779694cbfd84

Then select the "Creative Formatting" flair, as follows.

https://preview.redd.it/7cbhadxg3kbd1.png?width=1092&format=png&auto=webp&s=cc71c29e8118f69ea5ee6573ab58b4ace4022337

Happy formatting!

-- u/sedmonster

It was but for a moment that the world was truly mine,

silence swallowing the alley of Shriver as a crow circled the gray skin in the sky.

I wanted to borrow its wings; I wanted to Fly.

It was but a moment I felt needed documenting, I don’t know why.

Grenchamreborn and sedmonster,
Sitting in a tree,
How can we steal /r/shittypoetry?

First comes rules,
Then comes bans,
Then we offer them a different plan

/R/crackhousepoetry,
From this was born,
A new promised land,
To those who were torn

Why do this, you ask?
Intentions are clear,
They want to get more traffic here

But this sub is too quiet,
And has been for so long,
Maybe a new one can fix what's wrong

So they work as a team,
To steal the sub,
Oceans 11,
In your own bathtub

Everyday becoming every hour
undoing every min
to become seconds.

This thing we call time
is sparse,
every expression we make
is made false,

When you decide
to control the way we relay
expression,

And this art we enjoy
is already dying,
and i formatted this
annoyed that i wasted
time even trying.

Because seconds become mins
mins evolve to hours
advancing only by becoming minuscule
when compared to decades and centuries.

And advancing to become minuscule,
with time

This Sub Reddit,

We are, i am
lost to time.
(because of formatting)

Take a hike, my fruity lover
You promised to eat fruit only
Now gather your things, and leave!
Saw you with a red tomato
-- A vegetable, I believe. . . !

But if I am mistaken, tomatoes
Somehow are fruit
Then, indeed, my sincere apologies
For showing you the boot!

I didn't think I'd be here again ••• Choking on love's gaze ••• Everything fit so perfectly ••• I didn't think of the end, I couldn't see one ••• But in the nights after leisure ••• Sinful euphoria & drive ••• The same evil descends, & I cannot get you to run for cover ••• You say you can hold out, that it's nothing to your control ••• But I see it ••• Corrupt you ••• I denied it for so long cause the love censored my view ••• I couldn't bear to see pain ••• So I always allowed you to get your way ••• I enabled you, I'm afraid ••• It was lonely in heaven, I wanted a companion I could love ••• But what is my love worth when it comes with that which consumes you ••• I'll make you feel loved, don't question that ••• But will you be able to reciprocate? When my sin infects your heart? ••• Will you be able to come down? Even if I hold the ladder? ••• I did the best I could do ••• But I support not control you ••• Please just live your life, fully, you're not allowed to cut it short ••• I'll be there when you fall, people like us always do ••• But unlike me you'll have someone to pick you up ••• Someone you can actually count on to be there ••• It's my guilt to pay but regardless I'll be there ••• Two tours alone, lost in and out of my head ••• I'll never let you fall there ••• Just to be safe, I'll never let you go •••

I put the octopus at the drain
I watch it fight
against the current, it tries
with all its might

I drop the jellyfish in the water
I watch it swim
closer to the drain, I see
it torn limb from limb

I plop the seahorse in the fluid
I watch it flow
directly down the drain, it swirls
right down below

I skim the squid near the drain
I watch it sink
I am clean now, I believe
or so I think