Best Cussing Poems
I'm sitting on the floor
I'm crying so much more
trying to erase this pain
trying to forget your face
sitting here with the blade in my hand
running so slow blood dripping down
in a deep red color
flowing freely the way i want to feel
I'm sitting on the floor
holding my hand out
I'm holding a bottle
a bottle filled with pills
I'm crying so hard
the pain is unbearable
I'm feeling so weak
I'm sitting here on this floor
holding a blade
crying like crazy
trying to take this pain away
I'm trying my best trying to fight
my eyelids feel heavy
my door is so far
the whispered yells to far
falling deep in to sleep
deep..deep..deep..deep
I'm laying on a bed
I'm so confused
where am i?
my throat feels sore
my body screams in pain
I'm looking around
I'm in a small white room
i try to move,
my hands are stuck
i try to get up
i feel restraints
what happened to me?
I'm laying on a bed
trying to get up
my head hurts
a nurse is here
a shot is administered
i drift to sleep
I'm in the psych ward
why am i here?
I'm lying on a bed
laying so still
my wrists hurts to no end
I'm crying out loud
screaming and cussing
my body hurts
i can't remember
all i remember are my bloody wrists
and a bottle of pills
all i remember is the pain i was in.....
Secretly, I watch the neighbors,
From my well-advantaged location.
Mrs. G. is complaining about her husband to Mrs. S.
No one's drama is ever as vivid as Mrs. G's.
They full-body laugh, tongues out.
Mr. P. is going to be late for supper again;
I can hear Mrs. P. cussing.
At 4:15 I hear the all-day waited slam of a backdoor.
My girl is running toward me, flat out.
She is carrying a white pillow and gray blanket.
There's a plastic bag swinging from her arm as she climbs.
Prior experience tells me the sack holds a book, a drink
and her favorite sandwich - mayonnaise, peanut butter and lettuce.
After smashing a few ants on my floor, the girl flops down,
and begins to read.
I smile as she devours the sandwich like a young starving wolf.
She's ten, the perfect age to devour.
Every day is the same except Saturday.
On Saturday my girl spends the whole day inside me,
reading two to three books at a time.
It is our favorite day.
Her sister runs out sometimes and begs the girl to play,
but we are fighting pirates, conquering Asia, taming macaws.
We are so in tune, she and I.
When I hear "CANDICE MILLIE STREET COME IN IMMEDIATELY!"
I know my girl has to climb down and run for the house,
leaving me alone,
to spy on the neighbors.
Date: 8/28/2018 What the Hell Throw One In John Lawless, Sponsor
The first time I saw you, there was a glow about you
that baffle me. I-I just could not find the right word,
"you had that certain glow about you". Not the way you walk
nor the way you move, "but I believe in miracle's", yes
I do - yes I do. So finally I step to you and ask, would you,
could you smile ? just for the camara in my mind so that the
image of an Angel would be on my mind just in case the world
ended (today) much to soon, much before time. The first time
I saw you naked Angela, my mouth got lost for words-but the one
that slip through my lip's were (mmmunn) "what a gorcious women,
breast like lucious melons", and a voice (sweet) like that of the ocean
and wave's of heat and my idea of nerviousness brings trembeling to
my feet's.
"I do believe in miracle's", "I do not believe in love". Miracle's that it
take to sustain a relationship that the odd's of longivity are against us.
And we do become desponded, most of our day is spent fussing and cussing.
Never to see true love at its best. The first time our lip's did touch, I remem-
ber this Angel who I call Angela, she had my name tattoe across her chest.
Love, became the missing attraction, and you comfort me in my desire to ex
press myself, for I thought I was so macho, never in a thousand years, "will I
meet such a someone (?) that's such a women". A women (aaaah) such a
women, "from her head to her shoe".
Now Angela just in case the world ends tomorrow. Don't denie that there's an
"attraction". O'Angela.....kiss me quickly, "In the heat of Passion".
Seagulls talking
what's the matter?
fussy squawking
seagulls talking...
Waddle walking
pavement patter-
Seagulls talking
what's the matter?
Birds discussing
“Took my breadcrumb!”
Angry fussing
birds discussing
seagull cussing
“Hey, I want some!”
birds discussing
“Took my breadcrumb!”
Driving home in the dark through blinding rain
Hassles at the office plaguing my brain
Longing to escape life in the fast lane
Motorists are cussing with words profane
From shouting back, I struggle to refrain
Car mirror shows my forehead’s bulging vein
Sense of sanity I try to maintain
My heart races and I’m feeling chest pain
What is the point I try to ascertain
Thoughts of ending it I now entertain
To repel these notions I have to strain
Remembering Jesus never complained
Entry for the March Madness Contest
Poor old Mr. Perry,
Became a lowly pawn;
His ugly neighbor's dog,
Kept poopin' on his lawn
Big ol' piles of logs,
Standing inches high;
An odor so vile and funky,
You'd swear you're gonna die!
Retrieving the morning paper,
Would make him gag and yield;
Dodging mounds of doo,
Was like a wicked mine field!
"Keep your dog off my lawn"
The old man kindly begged;
The dog walked up and growled,
Then peed down Perry's leg!
That was the final straw!
It was time to sink the axe;
Perry hatched a wicked plot,
A box of chocolate Ex-Lax!!
Early one Friday morning,
Just at the break of dawn;
There appeared that ugly dog,
Ready to poop on his lawn
A big ol' bowl of grub,
Enough to swell a horse;
Perry smiled as he woofed it down,
Nature would take its course!
The mutt took his daily poop,
Went back from where he came;
The sands of time were calling,
His neighbor would go insane!
An hour or so had passed,
No one made a sound;
All of a sudden, there's cussing,
"Get out, you mangy hound!!"
The scheme worked as planned,
Crap sprayed the floors and walls;
His neighbor's house was a rotten mess,
Funk had decked the halls!
Old Perry was the victor,
At last, he found his peace;
That rotten dog kept off his lawn,
The poopin' finally ceased!
If she doesnt call you
[ Its because she is waiting for you to call her ]
When she walks away from you mad
[ Follow her ]
When she stare's at your mouth
[ Kiss her ]
When she pushes you or hit's you
[ Grab her and dont let go ]
When she start's cussing at you
[ Kiss her and tell her you love her ]
When she's quiet
[ Ask her whats wrong ]
When she ignore's you
[ Give her your attention ]
When she pull's away
[ Pull her back ]
When you see her at her worst
[ Tell her she's beautiful ]
When you see her start crying
[Just hold her and dont say a word ]
When you see her walking
[ Sneak up and hug her waist from behind ]
When she's scared
[ Protect her ]
When she lay's her head on your shoulder
[ Tilt her head up and kiss her ]
When she steal's your favorite hat
[ Let her keep it and sleep with it for a night]
When she tease's you
[ Tease her back and make her laugh ]
When she doesnt answer for a long time
[ reassure her that everything is okay ]
When she look's at you with doubt
[ Back yourself up ]
When she say's that she like's you
[ she really does more than you could understand ]
When she grab's at your hands
[ Hold her's and play with her fingers ]
When she bump's into you
[ bump into her back and make her laugh ]
When she tell's you a secret
[ keep it safe and untold ]
When she looks at you in your eyes
[ dont look away until she does ]
When she misses you
[ she's hurting inside ]
When you break her heart
[ the pain never really goes away ]
When she says its over
[ she still wants you to be hers ]
- Stay on the phone with her even if shes not saying anything.
- When she's mad hug her tight and don't let go then kiss her
- When she says she's ok dont believe it talk with her
- because 10 yrs later she'll remember you
- Call her at 12:00am on her birthday to tell her you love her
- Call her before you sleep and after you wake
It was not the sound of babies crying
Or anger,
fear
Old folks dourly discussing
Nor disputes,
debates
Strident voices of cussing
It was not the sound of children weeping
Or taunts,
doubts
Young people rowdily ruminating
Nor oppression
craftiness,
Ungrateful tones of murmuring
It was not the sound of grown ups mourning
Or dementia
regrets,
Middle age crisis managing
Nor depression,
unforgiveness
Poisonous tongues of viper stings
The last sound heard was the sound of death dying
Pickleball – Part One
It’s eight o’clock, about any day
And it’s pickleball that I’ve come to play
I brought my paddle and I brought my drink
I’ll work on my drops and perfect my dinks
But sometimes my body just doesn’t obey
I tell my feet move but they tell me “stay”
When I need to bend over and I tell my back
It seems that bend over is a talent I lack
I’ll play any game, against any foe
And there one thing my partner should know
A ‘power’ game is just fine by me
So wish me good luck and sweet victory
Part Two
It’s yellow and plastic, and really acts spastic
Whenever the wind starts to gust
I line up a shot, it looks in then it’s not
In pickleball winds you can’t trust
So I serve and I volley, drop dinks and by golly
The points really start to add up
If I play the game so, then the wind it can blow
Those low shots it just can’t disrupt
I call out the score when I serve or before
First my point, then their points, one or two
No cussing, no in’, stay out of the kitchen
There’s really not much else to do
If they hit, hit it back, in defense or attack
Keeping the ball still in play
Do this time and again and you’ll earn a fine win
On any old kind of a day
But when the winds not in play on a hot summer day
I dink and I lob, wear them out
Hope they make a mistake so the point I can take
That’s what pickleball is all about
Three neighbors litter on our street
buzzing along as I stroll past their gates;
and they jiggle like vicious wasps
while a silent howl drills on my head.
Yeah…all that drama, women of farce,
greeting me coyly with pretentious smiles…
I hear them cussing behind my back
those verbal bacteria infecting my night.
So why not face me , confront your self-disgust
thrown at my now distorted eye-to-eye stare?
Maggots! Low-life drones who thrive
on cheap thrills weaving vile intrigues
just to get some flipped attention…
I close my eyes for a moment to grab
some air, but the noise yells without restraint.
Well, it’s my time to get back ,after I let a blade
of screech hit the asphalt ground.
Under a reddened sky, a fuse explodes,
“Hey, get off my cloud or you all will be squashed!”
SKAT's Get Off Of My Cloud
6/17/2015
Fury
Loud, Hard
Cussing, shouting, building
At a breaking point
Madness
There is a soft buzz in the evening air
Listen closely and you may hear
Children a laughing in the distance
Carols a playing with persistence
Rustling sounds from Mother's kitchen
Dogs a barking with tails a twitchen
Church bells a ringing down the street
People's voices as friends they greet
Horses neighing down the way
Sleigh bells a ringing so joyful and gay
Daddy a chopping to stoke the house fire
Squirrels a chattering deep in the forest briar
Chestnuts a dropping from the old tree in back
Grandpa a cussing as he gives the old stove a whack
The creaking and groaning as all climb the kitchen stairway
Silence round the table as all give thanks for the day
There is much to be said about the sounds this time of year
Listen closely and you may hear
Grandma sneered at my computer in awe;
Contempt did build and it stuck in her craw.
Said it was the devil’s work,
The new keys drove her berserk.
She claimed they had to be against God’s law.
“What do these things mean, page up and page down?”
So she pressed “escape,” continued to frown
All of my work had been lost
And I was growing quite cross
In my cussing, grandma started to drown
“Why did you hit escape?” I had to ask.
“Now I must begin anew this tough task.”
She responded politely,
“I hate this technology
And wanted you to "escape" Satan’s grasp!”
*For Natalie's "Talkin' Technology" contest
Blind Date
Lonely for so long now
so excited I can't wait!
My best friend had set me up
with someone on a date.
I showed up a little early
to pick up this date of mine.
I'd seen her face before
in a flick called Frankenstein.
She said she liked my suit and tie
I said I had a tailor.
She got a run in her panty hose
and started cussing like a sailor.
Arriving at the restaurant
where my best friend I spied.
He was standing in a corner
where he laughed so hard he cried.
She ordered the whole menu
she maxed out my credit card.
Suddenly I realized
life alone ain't quite so hard.
Finally I slipped away
and split out the back door.
I got myself a new best friend
and I don't date no more.
May 4th 2015
In a flash, coals of darkness strike the night,
her teeth grating... pinched by a rage
screaming on walls that resound from her lungs;
her face spitting out a whorl of madness
in a verbal lash of ten or more whips,
mocking all the way down to the veins…
A furnace of rage disconnects her from some
sense of reality: the raw edge of irreverence
at every turn... panting, cussing, and cutting
sliced words like broken glass, as though
her heart is unaware of her sense of duality.
She taste the tears of both wrath and liberation,
plunging down the sunken pit in a hazy blur;
until she hears a voice,” it's alright, girl”...
for her borders cannot see the difference
between another time, another place,
where gentle sighs and harsh language
cannot blend as she hardly responds.
For John Lawless: Minced Words Contest
6/24/2016