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Best Poems Written by Crystal Floyd

Below are the all-time best Crystal Floyd poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Crystal Floyd Poem

Rambling Written

Liar, liar, pants on fire, 
hang yourself from a telephone wire. 
The grass is or is it not, 
always greener on the other side, 
if you cannot see eye to eye then disagree 
because all lies eventually die.  

You cannot squeeze blood out of a turnip 
just like you cannot cross that bridge 
once you have burned it. 
Chewing tobacco, 
chewing tobacco, chewing tobacco 
spit, 
pissing into the wind 
And falling back into . 
It is time to piss on the fire 
and call in the dogs, 
little Johnny smoked some  
and got eaten by the hogs, 
cut off your nose to spite 
your own cock eyed face, 
little Jimmy cracked some corn 
slow and steady wins the race, 
get on your mark 
then get ready and get set, 
you can lead a horse to water 
but you cannot place his bet, 
road hard and put away wet 
like a whore in church
I start to sweat.      

Do you really want to hear 
just how the cow ate the cabbage? 
Well he ate it way too fast 
and then he choked on it, 
so you can put that in your pipe 
and you can smoke on it. 
Why did the little chicken 
cross the motherin'n road        
Well fukk a duck 
Cuz I really do not know, 
all of my life long days 
I have been working on the railroad 
with all of my ducks out of a row 
when the shove comes to push, 
a bird in the hand 
ain't worth a cold Busch.      

Now I'm counting all my ducks
 before they even hatch, 
and I'm putting all my eggs 
into one small  batch, 
I tried to shut the door 
But it wouldn't latch, 
speak of the devil 
see the fire and strike a match.        
I'm the little kettle that the pot called black and I'm the fire and he's sticking in the frying pan, well the early bird gets it but then that owl gets the fowl and the two birds stoned leaves the worm all alone but it's okay to put the cart before the horse do it gently with force with no remorse,      
Stay on the course of course, it's a horse of course, it's a horse like no other, it's the horse of a different color.

Details | Crystal Floyd Poem

Awake and Aware

My easy does it done over did it again.
Rusted and busted eat up with sin.
Discontent with the nonsense splendidly blended to end, my endless transcendence not yet to begin.
Ashes to ashes rusting to dust.
Cloaked in consequences smothered in lust,
Stoked the coals fanned the flames chocked on smoke swallowed the lame.
Dismembering embers float like flickers of blame, stifling the light while fueling the shame, unable to refrain from this pain I can't explain, my heartstrings strain my broken heart stains stained.
Chained to my brain each days ending starts the same, deceased in peace all that remains goes down the drain,
Contrary to my obituary I was crazy not insane.
Dearly departed we are scattered here today, gathered and battered each one in our own way.
My whispering thoughts when gone untamed,they go astray.
Don't just hear these words I speak to you ,PLEASE LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY.
It begins inside the light looking out then you're outside in the dark looking in.
If we could see what was waiting for us inside the the dark, it's a trip we'd never begin.
The light at the end of the tunnel it's not the way out but it's the way in, you can look back to see where it all started
BUT YOU'LL NEVER SEE COMING WHEN IT GETS YOU IN THE  END

Details | Crystal Floyd Poem

Unseen

JaCkeD iN tHe hOuSe thaT wAS wAck BUILT
I went to a house which was not a house I opened a door that was not a door and what I saw I saw.
Broken mirrors in the attic, addict reflecting addict, each one staring back emphatic, while bouncing off the wall.
Let sleeping dogs lie if they can't tell the truth, turn a lazy blind eye and taste a rotten tooth.
Perhaps the one eyed cat has an untold story to tell, about the hitchhiker puffing pipe dreams with horrific fairy tales to tell.
Once upon times ending tragically ever after, in the diary in calligraphy written cursed with complacency for disaster.
The audacity of such blasphemy the revelations in the fabrications enthralled with blurry vision the misspelled writing's on the wall.
It's not fantastic fantasies it's unfathomable realities, the ungrateful and unfaithful deny the truth even when they see the proof.
It sounds paranoid and ridiculous maybe fictitiously inconspicuous that I believe the bastards out to get me but maybe you should believe it too.
Because you may or may not believe in the devil, some don't and some do,believe it or not the one thing that's certain, THE DEVIL DAMN SURE BELIEVES IN YOU. I closed a door that was not a door, I went hence forth from a house which was not a house, and what I've seen can't be unseen.

Details | Crystal Floyd Poem

One Wink Shy From 2 Thinks Too Many

I lie in this bed and just thank,
as my mind strays and plays tricks and pulls pranks. Deeper into the quagmire I sank.    
My thoughts as free as a fish is in a
tank.    
Frankly to be quiet frank, frankly I think Franky spoke frank, quite frank to the fact that Richard didn't know dick about the bic with the wick and the trick with the brick and Donald duck with his flying kangaroos.  
 Slick Willie told bold Billy that broke William was so silly and empty Phil can't feel it really but he can really fill it full.      
Now Miss Millie told slick Willie to tell broke William to tell bold Billy that empty Phil should foot the bill really and not steal that was the deal.      
But bold Billy told slick Willie to tell broke William to tell Miss Millie that empty Phil just ate a pill really and still will not foot the bill,      
but after William, Billy and Willie drink their fill and feel silly, they will foot the bill for really, and charge it to empty Phil.

Details | Crystal Floyd Poem

Woodchuck

STUCK LIKE CHUCK
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck's luck was sucked and fukked up and struck by upchuck?
Upchucked struck, sucked and fukked luck like a stuck up duck with a stuck dumptruck and twenty two bucks,
how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck would chuck wood real good where he should?
I got a fuuck for a duck, a duck for a k, and a twenty dollar bill for a fukked up duck, and I don't give a fukk how much a woodchuck chucks fukk A ducK

Details | Crystal Floyd Poem

Spinner Than Spun

Once upon a time 
as this paragraph beings, 
the first sentence 
leads to the end.
My intentions 
intending these words 
that I'm sending to you 
as a friend 
I extend.
If you have an ear 
that you can hear 
with right here 
then would you lend, 
as for me 
an ear of corn 
I will send.
You can not ascend 
from descending 
and descend 
from ascending 
at the same point and time 
then transcend from pretending. 
Over the deep end 
is where I'm blind 
and blend in 
with the blended, 
blendingly unblending.
To defend 
is to commend, 
condescended 
by this condescension 
as the weak 
continously condescend.
A sinning offender 
repeatedly without surrender, 
a fake grinning contender 
a mindbender 
to remember.
Broken at the skin 
as I broke at the mend, 
I can not ammend 
what I broke at the bend, 
how swimmingly I now drown 
broken at the fin, 
up with dope smoke 
now it's gone with the wind.
Once again and again 
on this poison 
independently 
I depend again.
Once again 
once again 
and again 
and again 
for myself 
I must fend 
once again.
As for me as for I as for myself I must tend.
Once again and again, again once again, I spend again once again, hemmed in by the wickedness they vend again.
A misfit now nowhere I find I fit in,
self loathing is becoming my trendy new trend, inside me is the enemy I unbecomingly befriend,
looking in the mirror I am sincerely contemned, I'll take one on the chin for I am MR. ZINN. Distance I recommend from yourself and from your sins from within, demons can become closer than your first next of kin, I keenly comprehend as all around me is clearly condemned.
Depending the ending with the ending still pending, I'm attending perhaps intending on pretending in a happy ending.
As the stingy and dingy infringe on this binge, I am singed and unhinged by their twinge as they cringe. Red ink stains on the wall like bloody dope inside a rusty syringe. Pensive I set and spin with my red inked bic pen, pinned in by my pen thoughts I send.
Although the beginning is now ending and the ending has begun beginning, with the extended ending still pending I'm splendidly zen.
It's not so much how you start the race that mostly matters, nor does it matter much where it's at WIN you begin.
What's comparatively imperative is the fact of the matter what's more importantly rather is how you finish it and where your heart's at WIN you end.

Details | Crystal Floyd Poem

Same Way That It Starts

It ends how it starts

I end each day the same way I start, 
every day that I start 
I got a lot on my heart 
and my mind fell apart 
from my failure to depart, 
I see the scars and the marks 
from the sparks in the dark 
like the bites from a dog with no bark.
Standing still on this spinning sphere
looking back in retrospect 
as the cloudiness clears, 
all the years and the tears and the beers
That have all led me here.
God's my only fear 
he is the maker 
And I am the made, 
So in my cave 
I am a slave 
to the shade 
Which comes in waves,
And the craves
They can last for days 
from the cradle 
to the grave,
I will be brave 
until I am slayed 
and where I am laid 
I guess is where I will probably stay,
But the day that my life is lost 
my soul will hopefully 
still be able to be saved.
Going down like a fly in a flame, 
I am in need of a change, 
The dope in the syringe 
Almost always kills most of the time 
And also the will to feel the pain, 
I need an end to this game, 
Because every day is exactly the same, 
and I cannot pass the blame
Because I need to own it like my name.
Life is a gift 
you only get one shot, 
So I am gonna ride this 
until the wheels fall off, 
until my eyes close shut 
and I breathe my last cough.
Like telekinesis-osmosis 
my premeditated prognosis 
is self medicated diagnosis 
to a disease thats so atrocious.
No doctor fees, 
just down this slippery slope 
was once a seed inside of me 
is now a tree with descending leaves 
that will just not leave.
The roots go deep inside of me,
seemingly where my eyez can't see,
unfortunately for me I broke the key,
the key that unlocks the the remedy
that is the enemy, 
that is inside of me,
that I can not free,
that I have become to be,
Please pray for me, 
that this will flee,
It seems as if everybody has turned on me, 
But what has really gotten into me,
will be the end of me.
I end each day and every single day
the same way I start,
I got a lot on my heart, 
my mind is falling apart 
from my failure to depart, 
and when all is said and done, 
it never ends how it starts.