Alone in my box,
Looking out to the world.
You're standing right there,
On the outside of the glass.
You make a silly face,
Wave to me,
Call out my name.
But no matter how hard
I might wish,
I cannot leave.
If I make an attempt,
These fragile walls
Might shatter.
Slam the door too hard,
And the ceiling
Will come crashing down
On top of me.
Cannot breathe,
Cannot move,
Cannot escape the box.

About the poltergeist
That comes into my room at night
To watch me while I sleep.
That opens my cabinets,
And shuts my doors,
Makes me think I'm
Somewhat forgetful.

The poltergeist
That used to be a dude
I knew and worked with.
And who never really changed,
Except he became a ghost,
Decided to follow me around
To be a slight inconvenience.

The poltergeist
Who leaves out
A random pair of panties
-Put those on!-
But I never do,
Because I'm 50
And I don't like the way they look anymore.

The poltergeist
Who opens a can of spaghetti-o's
But can't eat them,
So he pours them down the sink
And doesn't run the garbage disposal.
It attracts gnats,
I am mildly aggravated.

The poltergeist
I wish I could have loved
In this life or the next.

But instead,
I have a marginally troublesome
poltergeist
Who cannot sleep in my bed.

Miss Myriadorinda Kleupturckinkourion-Jourphagygnomitebe
ask me a sensible question why don’t you
because here
there is no need to so tread lightly
Miss Myriadorinda Kleupturckinkourion-Jourphagygnomitebe
well
Mr Orvilionopternosense Ghnerdinkooler-Crypyptourueche
let me see
what I can do for you
Mr Orvilionopternosense Ghnerdinkooler-Crypyptourueche
I can ask you anything
I know that I do
so let me see now about what I must ask you
will you love me
will you love me true
Mr Orvilionopternosense Ghnerdinkooler-Crypyptourueche
I confess that I want you to
well
Miss Myriadorinda Kleupturckinkourion-Jourphagygnomitebe
I am so desperate for you
I guarantee you now
absolutely that I do
I love you.

...

In this one the eyes of men
are undressing her and examining her putative nude and totally exposed body
in the most avid and minute physical detail
where the angles curves and geometries of her palpable physical conditions
are the definitive context for deep masculine philosophical material inquiry
in the beginning
this ravenously compelled erotic male attention
thrills her and exhorts her into the lubricated orgasmic
quite easily
however the results which she has finally obtained
in the exploitation of the rabid attentions
of sexually driven philosophical inquisitors
(blunt male monsters)
have been very disappointing
in the sense that such attentions
have been discovered to be void of any moral value
or exterior meanings applicable to the practical development
of any species of aesthetic or sentiment whatsoever.

This gilet is a very fine thing
in the 'medium' (M) size
it fits me very well
it is a nice and fine 'micro fleece' material
fleece is made from plastic
which is in turn made from crude oil
it is a petroleum product
the 'fibres' of the fleece are discharged into the enviroment
where they cannot degrade
in the stead of that
these 'fibres' end up in the flesh of the fish
which we eat
I selected 'orange' for the colour of my gilet
the shade of 'orange'
which it is
is both tasteful and classy
If I were younger
I might fancy that a fleece gilet such as this
could increase the probability
of the personal achievement of full sexual intercourse
('missionary' position')
in my life.

I am short
but I have never been discriminated
sure if you want to get fellatio
from a different woman every day
you need to be tall
that is a given
but those kinds of women
are nothing but shallow whores
and being short just means
that you get the women
who are more than just empty
semen drains.

××× Leading lady

Show me please

How you keep their attention

How can I appease

××× That's what I thought in the beginning

The eyes on me were the stokes I needed

But now that I've gone inside myself

The hope of a companion who sees is what's seeded

xxx Now I know where their eyes go without turning my head

I hitch up the hem absently knowing their request

The focus on my body used to have feeling

It warmed me and filled me up

I hooked onto that and started reeling

xxx But somewhere it changed

When I learned that I was being loved in parts

Their gazes dissecting my physical traits like kids with frogs

Swapping parts of me like a yard sale

I was oblivious to the competition until they entered me

They sing love to all of you, but if she was here I'd be a fail

xx Now their eyes do nothing

Now the motions in switch I sway are just calculated preditions

If I bend over like this and bounce my step like that

xx I get the attention without giving a thought but I feel nothing from it

The stares on me no longer register

Eventually you just get used to it

x You have his attention but what's that worth if he needs to message her

My wishes for you,

A silence to the cacophony ,

That lies deep within....

Surely the technology shall arrive soon
to turn women into servile obedient slaves
to convert them into something
ready to satisfy a man
there will be a pill
a tablet that they can take
a treatment
which transforms them into the superior
affirmative concubine
the unquestioning available love slave
they these women shall be so happy
and so fulfilled
in their new technologically achieved
personal sexual paradise
this will be the final 'transitioning'
for them into
the pure orgasmic accomplishment
of a perfect loving womanhood.

At the termination of my formative phase
that is to say
my normal development
and with no need of either identity or destiny
as a pair of breasts
pert pneumatic vivid massaged erected
to suck onto
I finally found myself at liberty to speak
with the fervid electric rays of dawn
blazing through my sex
an immense charge of invincible Vril
and it was just then
and at that moment that
she showed the thing to me
the main force of it
illuminated by love
hence it is that I can claim that
I saw her whole ass
and not just a bit of it
the thing was pure class
every damn inch of it
I touched that fine ass
I reached out
I stroked at the chip of it
I raised my own mast
I drove in to the hilt of it
I saw her whole ass
and not just a bit of it.

Those afternoons we used

To spend together,

Corner of Bloor and Nowhere,

Raincoats with collars up,

Cuffed 501s, and just

Walking, popping

In and out

Umbrellas up and under the

chill and windy,

God-I-hate-this-word-tempestuous

Scudding, raindrop surging sky,

Rain dropping raindrops from my

Dark umbrella's sexy,

teasing edge

Bookshops and coffee spots, just

Unthinkingly, innocently

Acting out scenes from

Black and white movies,

Hanging...

Drippy umbrellas and

Bulky book bags from

Booth side hooks over their

Puddles of water, the

Latte piping,

Biscotti warm, the

odd coffee stained dog-ear on

New used books as we

Exchange easy sidelong gazes,

Trade quotes,

Pick at books,

Sip our coffee,

Dip our cookies

Sitting at our

Window, just

Watching people people watching,

watching us, regarding books

and people, reading us

reading us, the rustle of our

Turning pages. All these

Years later, who could know that

Those snapshot moments would

Leave behind the polaroids of

should-haves and wish-I'ds

Like words

Scribbled on

Scraps of paper

Pressed inside the

Yellowed pages, only to fall

Unexpectedly out, on

Opening that book, my

Memories, of

Bookshops and coffee spots and

Rainy shared-umbrella walks to

Bloor and Nowhere, quietly,

Pitter-patter raindrops and

Whisper-rustle pages, an

aimless stroll that

After all these

Years is still

Etched in my heart's

Dog-eared pages,

Surprising marginalia, the

the simple joy of

Strolling together, In a

world of words and whispers,

That fade to grey

Days of love and pain

will come won’t they?

But oh well, they go

and one day

I’ll be the sun

and I’ll be the rain

and all that will be of me

are the flowers.

Protect a dream,

by killing the child.

Live through the child

the dream still dies.

kill yourself,

the child will dream,

of a mother.

who lives, on in them.

I’m just not cut out for what most people are cut out for.

A reject, the loser; the broken from the start

I don’t care for looking good or being accepted

Sure some girls have pity fucked this broken heart

I’m not as screwed as many others, not what I’m saying

But I don’t belong with them, nor the people in ties Sunday morning

I’ve gotten handjobs next to a pew, drank my partners blood

We made a pact. Now she’s fucking some other worthy stud

I’m the in-between, the one who was never enough

We all have our demons but why does it get in the way of love?

Luckily others have the opposite problem. Surrounded by too much

No time for self reflection, their mouths blundering a bluff

While deep inside denial builds a shell without real touch

I constantly wonder why I was meant to be the discord in the mud

Then I remember Jesus liked the people who were fucked up

He hung out with the whores or the vile rotten cucks

He probably watched losers who couldn’t get it up

Said come follow me where boners can bone without being filled up

All this considered the net sum is stlll life fucking sucks

Put the spanner (wrench) down Ted
I see a police woman
I have espied her
I have identified her
this immaculately uniformed trussed up
and beautifully dressed up and garnished and stuffed up
police woman
put the spanner (wrench) down Ted
this woman
this police woman
is waiting on the bed.

One thing
that I definitely
do not want to do is
to shoot my parents
both of them
point blank
in the back of the head
I would never do that
pop pop
damn her face flew off
when I shot her
my mother imaginatively
point blank
in the back of the head
pop pop
damn he bit his own tongue off
when I shot him theoretically
my father
point blank
in the back of the head
I used a .45
in this dream
this vivid and this invigourating fantasy
of shooting both of my parents
clean and square
in the back of the head.

One thing that I think might be neat
you are correct
that would be
ejaculating onto a teenager's nude feet
yes how can I feel complete
before the fact of it
the joy of the act of it
you are correct
ejaculating onto a teenager's nude feet
it is an experience so very hard to beat
you are correct
it is pleasant it is relaxing
it is wholesome and it is direct
the penis is throbbing and it is fully erect
and in that an aesthetic is consummated
goverened and made replete
being becomes whole then
during and while
ejaculating onto a teenager's nude feet.

I wrote a long essay for you, but ended up sending it to someone else.

On the other hand, I wrote this series of Limericks for him and decided to send it to you, and sent a different message to my Egyptian-British-American friend that started from something else... which is kind of the point of growth, right?

Some trained to lead as by poets
Or learned it for war and they show it
  But my training bellows
  And reeks on my fellows
'Cause I'm still an ape and I know it

My mother once said her partner once sowed
Seed stolen by night and kept all he owed

  I try not to fuss
  They built it for us
But I can't make machines without code

I read it too close, as soon as received
It said it applied, but I've been deceived
  I live out of state
  And it got to me late
To answer in kind as I plead

I could be an agent or spy
My neurotis is my alibi
  Our works can say less
  And when in distress
A forger's antique chestnut pi

What magics can make what you ask
I have them, but passwords doesn't last
  There's only today
  It's where we must stay
But future turns prologue so fast

We could all more use discipline, like me
I joke, and talk too, much you see
  As words can assail
  And all tools can fail
It is as it always will be

...of course your name isn't [B|R]ob, and I sent this to the ether via r/ShittyPoetry

People think of you as a number

What’s your salary?

What’s in your bank account?

How many friends do you have?

How tall are you?

How much do you weigh?

What’s your age?

How long have you been here?

What’s your breast size?

What’s your penis size?

And if you give them the wrong number.

You lost the lotto, baby

The other day
I wondered about my identity
because
they keep going on about it
endlessly
they do
identity
and so I wondered about mine
my identity
what is my identity I said
I said I am a failure
I have thought about it to a degree
and failure is there
a failure
a failure to be
however
what with the modern
crack craze for being able to do the impossible
I might transition into a new phase
of identity
the one they call success
success is my identity
buy me a tie
By Jove!
and buy me a dress
what the hell is all this
well let me guess
identity
you could have fooled me
identity
god bless.

The soldier cannot think

The heretic never stops

If this is a prison or a barrack is comparable to what the soldier says

"May this remain as ambiguous to all as it is to myself"

The heretic is too cold to reply

Again the soldier speaks

"I ought to get a priest in here"

The heretic at last replies,

"For an exorcism, ordination, or defilation?"

"So I can saw off his god damn head."

A doctor is somebody
who studies a tradition of learning (medicine)
sufficiently that they are then qualified
to take an oath to 'do no harm'
a doctor is a doctor by dint of the oath - not the study
the meaning of the oath
is that a human conscience is at liberty
to interact with another human consciousness
in order to develop a protocol by agreement
based upon knowledge ascertained in the facts
seen at the consultation.

My friend has a boyfriend
who recently she caught texting the girl
he used to talk to before her
calling her love
flirting, etc
she told me they were done for good and she wouldn’t be going back
we dropped his clothes off at his house
(using MY car)
blasted hot girl music in front of his house
and just complaining to me in general about him
2 days later and she’s back to texting him
now when he does the same thing and hurts her again
I don’t want to hear a single thing about it
I was there the first time and you didn’t listen
so I will not be there the next.

https://www.reddit.com/r/ControversialOpinions/comments/1c8cyjs/kinda\_controversial/

As an exquisitely beautiful
young 18 year old woman
you deserve to be worshipped and celebrated
widely in your community
instead you have been very badly used
by a questionable young woman
a friend so called
somebody who is consumed in a destructive heterosexual relationship
a toxic and a banal mostrosity
an abortion of love writhing spasmodically
as a public fact
with a narcissistic self-seeking smiling philandrer
she this friend of yours
has physically prostrated herself before this corrupt and drooling monster
a human chisel
with her legs open
and allowed him to use her body at no cost
despite the impossibility of either respect or fidelity in the matter of copulation
due to the cancerous and due to the self-seeking and consuming sexual criminality
of the acquisitive and of the remorseless and blithe young man in question
she has attempted to drag you into her own personal hell
of harm and damage
of calculation of vengeance and of punishment and retribution
what you need to do is to watch your step right now
before you are finally imported into a terminal structure of violent animal control
after which is pure danger.

It seems that every time I’m strong,
I’m soon to fall.

Vulnerability and hyper-sexuality get the best of me.

I want you now deep inside of me.

      Feeling and filling me.    

This warm pleasure.

      Uncontrolled shaking knees.     

Yes, Daddy.
Fuck me please.

I know how to love everything × So why can't I have one? ○

It's like finding treasure by moonlight ○ And losing your keys in the sun ○

The sheet I hide my heart in × Has totally stretched thin × It can't even contain any beats from within ○

Soon the threads will rip ○ Leaving my heart hung in the air □ Moonlight breezes leaving the circulation in flow × Blind heat always thinking this cycle needs to end ×

I am talking about Sherri Papini
and Ruby Franke
these blonde scintillating
convicted criminals are dazzling
they are
clearly competent in the area of personal hygiene
and overall pussy care
presentation and maintenance
these are the types of girls
professionally shaved up
who are ready for a fuck
into the dimension of love
in this morning's sex session
we shall be having some 'threesome' style
orgasmic interactions
with Sherri Papini and with Ruby Franke
the question is though
which one of them
do you want to have sucking your penis
during and while the other one
is french kissing you
this is a good question
or perhaps
you want to eat out the asshole
of one of them
during fellatio which terminates in ejaculation
the choices are virtually limitless here.

I'm Mario without Luigi.
Without Princess Peach
No one to save or search after
The modern world's reach

In a castle with transvestites
My best friend says it'll do
Just close your eyes
Pretend the stick's the same glue

We live in an age,
Where women hate men
Where men hate women
We hate the world we're in

If Mario existed today,
He'd kill himself the first level
Make that sad cry face
Princess Peach would be in real trouble

She'd just start an onlyfans,
Bowser would be the next president
I'm getting lost in this metaphor
Fuck you, this whiskey ain't cuttin it

The apple has fallen far from the tree
I am the furthest thing from happy
If my life were a video game
I'd be forced to fuck Luigi

(A poem about the emotionally guarded who do not seek support from their loved ones, and instead hold it in until they can’t anymore)

The bags that I carry are my own I tend to hold them all alone

The bags I hold are stacked 10 deep That weight is mine That weight I keep

It’s not because I do not know To ask a friend to share this load

It’s just because it belongs to me Why weigh down others To my degree

The more bags I share The weaker I am At least that’s the feeling So i stuff and I cram As much as I can in these corse burlap bags Till they rip at the seems and turn into rags

What’s inside spills out As they rip and they tear The bags were too full And poured everywhere

It’s not easy to clean what comes out of from within It’s slippery and foul Where do I even begin?

What part of the mess Do I try to fix first? Do I mend up my bags? Do I scoop what’s dispersed?

The worst kind of mess that my bags ever made Left the one that I love Feel dismayed and betrayed

She loved and she cared for me And she kept a clean home And she never wanted me To carry these bags alone

I rejected her help “Not this weight it is mine” Till my bags broke again Leaving live in decline

I can’t give her these bags They feel tied to my bones This weight I must learn to share Or I fear I’ll end up alone.