Best Crack Poems
To The Brink For The Ink Crack Like Fissures
Another page scarred with ink. Upon her page, I see red ink
branded by the thoughts I think. Tattooed thoughts, that make me think
My mind imprisoned, feel the burn, Within intricate patterns, my heart it learns
past the point of no return. As I slip off her ledge, my spirit churns
Faces bob like buoys in an ocean, For her mind, it is an ocean
I'm sea sick to societies motion. I'm lost upon, her wave like motion
Clutter intoxicates my brain, Intoxication, it fills my brain
filling me with failure and pain. Strange impressions, as I view her pain
Forcing sleep deprivation muse, bubbling from my mind, feelings break loose
cigarette, pot and coffee abuse. I'm transported back, to my own abuse
Five A.M. and the pressure is strong Crack like fissures, emotions strong
to make these words move along. I feel I've known her all along
My audience awaits but I'm still She grants me audience, within places still
writing rhymes against my will. Her rhymes resonate, until I bow to her will
Blocked by need I'm suffocated, lungs filled fully, never suffocated
my joy becomes what I've hated. She’s one transcended, not filled with hatred
I can't escape the vines I've grown, a climbing flower, I've see how she's grown
notebook prison, I cry alone. With her notebook open, she's never alone
All this angst and misery, She transcends angst and misery
all for the love of writing poetry. Within her glowing landscape of poetry
Casarah Nance Richard Lamoureux
September 14, 2015 September 14, 2015
Dedicated to the Artistry of Casarah Nance
My butt crack
Is quite a split
It supports the rest of me
when I sit
you thought I was gonna say something else didn't you ?
My butt crack
Is a marvel to behold
It was cute when I was young
but now offensive since I'm old
My butt crack
Is pretty darn straight
can you imagine if it was crooked
pretty weird sight I would rate
My butt crack
Is funny to me
when I bend over in my jeans
It peeks out
for you to see
My butt crack
wanted me to write this today
for no other reason
then just to say......................
I gotta split
LOL
Eric (and sometimes not)
Apologists Are Too Funny
Apologists have been saying for 2000 years,
Jesus will return, you can dry your tears.
But they have always been making this claim,
About the truth of Christianity’s fame.
They always fabricate a ridiculous excuse,
That’s always been considered abstruse.
But Jesus said that some wouldn’t die,
Before he returns from his home in the sky.
He was wrong and no one cares,
That it didn’t happen and their heirs,
Just keep on believing no matter the year.
These foolish souls have so much fear,
That they might be wrong and their god is a hoax.
So they keep on believing, stupid folks.
So for millennia, there’s little change,
When they offer their answers, they are unchanged.
But they’re always quick to tell you you’re wrong.
That their beliefs will always be strong.
They cannot debate and accept the fact,
And refuse to accept the failed contract.
If any other religion claimed the same,
They would say it is false and lame.
Fools and obnoxious they always become.
A waste of time, they’re just plain dumb.
Like a lost firefly my mind strays
Concealed like a ripe walnut
My heart is shelled by enclosure
Waiting to be cracked open...
To be served on platinum trays
For whom ever needs some exposure
My donation of hope and faith...
Or perhaps you need just a little love
If you need some, it's yours to take...to pull
You may take as much as you need
I am serving plenty for all
Widen your fingers, grab a handful
My friend, what is mine is yours
My world just wouldn't be the same any other way
After all, is life really life...without love
Sharing and caring for one and for all
I'll be cracking open walnuts...
Until I'm way high...up above
Tri-Con Poetry Contes
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
7-16-2019
To the one I love
Just because...
And to those who love life
And those who love love!
Through every cranny, every crack
In every nook of every room
It seeks to fill the empty space
And lift the shadowed shade of gloom
So be it hastened by the heart
Or blessed by universal source
Without it, life would simply cease
So never doubt its mighty force
And you, my sweet, on every day
Give freely of your precious gift
And fill this bleak and barren void
To shatter darkness, sure and swift
Yes, it is light of which I scribe
Of which each crack and cranny holds
No matter where and in my heart
I feel the love that it enfolds
Written: August 25, 2025
*********
There was a crack in the ceiling.
Above the lamp, above the silence, a crack—
thin as a vein,
but pulsing with something devious.
At night, I stared upward,
its jagged line, such a question
I couldn’t answer.
The plaster flaked as aged skin,
and dust fell in slow confession.
When she climbed the ladder,
she traced it with a fingertip,
then with pencil, then with tape—
measuring the damage
as if it might reveal a diagnosis.
She patched it gently,
not to erase, but to soothe.
Later, she painted it
the same soft ivory as before.
Not to hide it—
but to let it rest.
And now, when I look up,
I perceive nothing.
Or rather,
I perceive everything it once held.
CRACK HOUSE?
They come most ofen two at a time
Dressed all in black, with hoods
I call ‘em black knights
With hoods? Fer crap, it’s summer time!
In-‘n-out o’ this house next door
House went vacant, no sign ner nothin
Folks moved out dead o’ night
Couldn’t afford the rent, sound right?
Next day this gal with a baby moves in
Little gal, not more’n teens, couldn’t a been
Dressed net as a pin
That’s when the ins-‘n-outs begin
I figur she might be a ho, somethin like that
So. One mornin I say hello
Had that baby in her arms
Give me this hard ass, dead ahead stare
I figur, what with the ins-‘n-outs she must be a front
Wondered if that there was a real baby
Or jist a big rag doll, maybe?
In-an-out, in-an-out. Where’s all these black knights
comin from?
No cars, ner nothin, jist walkin down the street
Never saw no faces
All covered up from top to shoe laces
This goes on fer a couple weeks
Then, one noon, this black ‘n white
This cop on the porch talkin to teeny front
Lips movin, frowns flashin up and down
Lookin neither left ner right
All on a sudden head shakes, smiles
Cop goes on his way
No more black knights
Teeny front moves out next day
Dave Austin
I joined a nudist colony,
Was that a big mistake!
Everyone's naked, in the buff,
Sippin' soda by a lake
A big ol' gal named Marsha,
Stepped on a banana peel;
Our feet got tangled together,
As we tumbled down a hill!
My life had flashed before me,
Flesh was crowdin' my space;
By the time we hit rock bottom,
Her moon was in my face!
I fought like hell for freedom,
Her butt was crushin' my skull;
I was feelin' rather groggy,
My vision was goin' dull!
Mounds of sweat overwhelmed me,
Six others came to assist,
Beneath that skin I was tastin',
The biggest butt I ever kissed!
With a heave and a ho, I was free,
My body was a mangled mess;
I spent a week on the sofa,
An ugly sight, I must confess!
You might say I'm stupid,
It'll roll right off my back;
I never used marijuana,
But I've had my share of crack!
A psychologist is a person who decided to spend a lot of money,
To recieve a piece of paper that says they know everything about me.
Sure I'll talk, but they won't listen for anything but a hint,
Of reason to recommend a psychiatrist to deal me another script.
Psychiatrists are glorified drug dealers hired by Pfizer and their friends,
Who experiment with legal crack and meth to try and make the suffering end.
I studied the mind as well in school, recieving awards and honors,
And learned that western medicine is but a corrupt business at its core.
Psychiatric doctors convincing customers that their minds aren't right,
Ignoring the syndrome of society and its environmental plight.
Pills are but a capitalistic product of this terrible medical field,
When plants can cure what ails us with each season's yield.
I studied government as well in school, recieving awards and honors,
Learning that one reason pot's still illegal is because idiots deny it as a cure.
Sitting in school eight hours a day for eighteen years,
Is what an IBM machine is for, which won't be robbed of human cheer.
Four years of pretending degrees will reward us for our studies,
Left us indebted to unpayable loans and jobs whose minimum pay is cruddy.
So if you want to think my problems stem from a disease inside my brain,
Keep ignoring the economic ties and lies that are making me insane.
I wrote a great book, part memoir, part novel
Shopped it around, I ain’t too proud to grovel
Got kicked upstairs to a big publishing head
He invited me in, and here's what was said:
This screed you call Crack House of the 13 Gables
Is one long rant mixed with recycled fables
It wanders aimlessly, but never resolves
Characters pop out of nowhere, then simply dissolve
But the symbolism, sir, allow me to explain
The Victorian parlor represents pathos and pain
In the attic are mothballed broken dreams and betrayals
It's gonna shift your paradigm right off its rails
It’s a thousand-page odyssey into the surreal
The hedge maze is where all 14 sub-plots congeal
Enough! The only reason I called you in, punk
Is to meet the lunatic who scribbled this junk
So I slunk away, not a little dejected
Ain’t much fun being literarily rejected
Trudged back to my grueling, stale coffee grind
Working 15-hour days, going out of my mind
Then one day I met an old pal for some beers
Hadn't seen him in quite a few years
I told him about my rejection slip wrangle
He said buck up, you just need the right angle
I like reading novels, now don’t get me wrong
But writin' 'em, man, that just takes too damn long
And what a huge risk, 16 years you devoted
For no payday at all, just your ego imploded
There's no need to pen the next Moby Dick
Try something short, now that is the trick!
So, I thanked my friend for his most sage advice
And took it to heart without thinkin' thrice
And now I am back as a voice for the ages
Except I'm makin' my mark in far fewer pages
I write sound bites and maxims and pithy remarks
T-shirt slogans and jokes, I just do on a lark
I bang out poems and lyrics at the drop of a hat
Dash off 17 syllables in ten seconds flat
Haikus by the bunch
Cook up a batch before lunch
Put that in your pipe
____________________________
For Humor Contest
Sponsored by: Carol Eastman
If you step on a crack
You will break your mother’s back.
When she made us mad.
It’s all we had.
We would spend hours
Jumping on the sidewalk crack.
It never worked.
So terribly glad.
Do not walk under a ladder
Or break a mirror.
You will have bad luck
From there to here.
If a black cat walks across your path.
You can shudder and shake.
For your life
This will break.
If you see the tooth fairy
You will not get any money at all, simply no dough.
If you see Santa,
Presents he will take home to the North Pole.
Friday the thirteenth.
All things bad will happen to you.
You cannot stop it, honey
Childhood trauma sticks to us like glue.
Crack kills.
God heals,
And destinies,
He fulfills.
The truth,
He reveals.
To get us,
Satan uses lies,
Theft, demolition,
And tricks for us,
To forever be,
In demise.
To save us,
Jesus took licks,
Was hung, He bled,
And He died for us all,
To have everlasting,
And fruitful lives.
If you want crack,
To stop killing you.
God got your back.
He sent Jesus through,
Forty-two generations,
To save me and you.
To free us from,
Whatever addiction:
Dope, lost hope,
Fornication, adultery,
Idolatry, homosexualism,
Racism, or any other sin
Not mentioned, that you,
May fall victim to.
God wants to,
Use you.
Satan wants to,
Abuse you.
Live the way
God wants.
Don't let Satan,
Tease and taunt
You into sin.
Join God's team,
And win.
You can't fix,
Yourself. Come
As you are.
Let God drive
Your car down,
Destiny drive,
To the Avenue
Of Being Forever,
Alive.
Crack kills.
God heals,
And destinies,
He fulfills.
The truth,
He reveals.
To get us,
Satan uses lies,
Theft, demolition,
And tricks for us,
To forever be,
In demise.
To save us,
Jesus took licks,
Was hung, He bled,
And He died for us all,
To have everlasting,
And fruitful lives.
Weep with me winter morning
Sing for me a solemn tune
Dance for me winter morning
Tell me a story before noon
Crack
Crack
Bang
A crashing tree limb pulled me breathlessly from my freezing bed.
White morning stares viciously in my face,
Lingering snow and rain turned everything into hardened ice.
Nude trees striped of their autumn leaves
Perishes slowly under nature’s weight
Crack
Crack
Bang
A laden tree branch lands on my neighbor’s van
Everything in sight has frozen to ice
Slipping and gliding and humming a tune I
Broke the ice just before noon.
©2013 Christine Phillips
Rain with her wet slippers assail
The senses affixed on my walls—
Through its cloudy sight, a sun dial.
Where pattering waxes to a haunting tune,
Blew out the candle from under time—
Cracks now wide in bright or dull blue.
Storm's find
Brass chimes
Odd shine
Rain with her wet slippers assail,
Blew out the candle from under time,
Odd shine.
I found a crack in the sky
At midnight, I looked up
And as usual
There was stars decorating
The dark blue sea above
But I caught it
I saw a thin line, just north of the moon
And as I concentrated,
I could see what was beyond
I saw the galaxy
The stars, the planets
And realized there were more than eight
And I swore I saw a human
Waving at me
From one of the unseen planets
Up above
I saw more than our solar system
I saw the universe
In its entirety
Its vastness was enough to crush me
Making me realize
How insignificant I really was
Blue, red, orange, and colors I couldn't identify
I spotted them in streaks across the cosmos
Then suddenly I remembered
I was still on earth
And glanced at the earth's sky
It was turning into dawn
With pink clouds introducing the sun
I tried to look back at the crack
But it had closed up