Why do you seek booze?
To numb pain – reality
Gives it all for free.
Crystaldj
June 2026
They accuse me of cutting of my cock
Just to wear a frock
And hang about in bogs
When all I want
Is the peace to piss
Or to piss in peace
Just another of their
Disgusting spiels
Designed to turn me extreme
But hate is there language
Not mine I just rhyme
Im happy it’s gone
My meaty schlong
It just hung there all flaccid
It was always so wrong
But it never once said
Get this straight in your head
That off I should go
On the chance
A women to catch
In the stench of the lavs
I mean
Who’s idea was that
What warped mind
Full of hate could create
Such absurdist disgrace
Or maybe they reveal
A piece of them selves
All twisted and dark
So self loathing and reviled
Then push it out on the world
Rather than live with their shame
So as billionaires burn the world to the ground
And presidents and princes
Abuse kids with no charges
Of course they want you focused on me
Cos I’m the real threat
Cos I cut of my cock
I had blood on my face. Dirty. Gracious. And… disgusting. Blood dripping on my face. Didn’t know it. It just smelled bad.
When I looked at my face in the mirror, I thought… that the mirror had the blood.
I kept cleaning it. Cleaning it. Rubbing it. With my arms. With my palms. With my fingertips.
At the fatigue, I could get in my fingertips until that blood dripped from my face onto the mirror.
And now I understand that I had a problem. Who caused problems on both me and the mirror.
Now I can clean the blood on my face. But what about the mirror?
seeing the way the men around you act within the shadows then within the daylight smile and care within a holy “reasoning”-
purely disgusts the soul.
knowing that the men around you have been capable such sinful acts that rot the soul,
as i gaze into their eyes it feels as if im searching through their souls-
degrading and picking apart each unholy piece,
it gives them earth shattering knowledge that someone knows of their sins. like a sinful man spewing to the preacher.
i can tell they feel the same.
i can feel the shame and disgust within themselves as i search through their soul through their eyes-
they can feel the shallow disgust radiating off my soul,
as if it was the devil looking the blinding lights of heavens in the direct soul-
i can feel the unholiness inside themselves.
yet this isn’t my intention-
it’s their guilt of the shameful things they have done im merely just looking it in the eye.
—it’s the black boil on bursting, boiling ribs—
on my midleft chest, brewing bungled churns,
[tighteningmybreath], again, again, it yearns,
it begs*, “just one (just two) more (well-earned) rub(s)!”
—giving in, it’s just picking at the scabs—
first brief relief( ):the itch at once returns
as soon’s the finger’s left the welt; it burns
and gnaws more hotly—awful pangs, sore jabs!
now, Doctor says I’d best not touch it if
I’d like to heal—“lucky to leave just a scar”—
only, I hate the texture of the crust…
why’s my mind got to be so god,damned,stiff?
though abstinence feels so blunt, so bizarre,
I’d like to heal, I give his word my trust.
I sense here some things sinister—a scent
of sulphur, sulking in a sultry pit;
a serpent’s hiss, expressed from space unlit;
a warm spell spilling from some seething vent;
I find now some things filthy—foul ferment
foaming, frothing; a gaseous, gurgling slit
discharging fetid, festering, sour spit;
malignant mold in cold, cracking cement;
So languid, loath, obtuse I trepidate
on into the black bowels of my home.
Gagging back a nausea’s tepid bubble,
shivering a shudder that won’t abate,
discover I a gory catacomb.—
Woah… I see well now how bad my trouble!
I can churn stomachs, with a stench of truth
An abscess filled with maggots, pus profuse
As I feed off gunk, new nerve ends take root
Raw language in my words, not gross abuse
Yes! I am disgust, old wounds fear my fruit
To late for contest
How loathsome the murmurs seething around
Amid the lies I pitch into a city's mind,
That malicious whispers know my sound
By ruining your name...am I unkind
When friends become bashers, when real truth gets drowned?
I AM DISGUST
I have never, ever, felt so vindicated
That one could really do that awful thing
When all that’s needed was to have waited
It’s always me, with a bitter taste to bring
I’ll spit out every last drop you created
i sat down
at a table,
and
i picked
up my
fork.
the fork had
several noodles
with
sauce wrapped tightly
around
it,
but when
i picked
it up,
they slid away
into
the dark abyss.
Humans never fail to shock or surprise me
When l think l have them sussed
Human behaviour at its best or worst
Fills me with both joy and disgust
There is so much goodness in this world
Kindness toward our fellow man
Yet ,incredible selfishness and hate
Impossible to comprehend
I do not view life through rose coloured glasses
I just try to focus on the positives and kind
Not always easy to achieve
If not …..l would simply lose my mind!
I have grown up
with my mother’s hatred
and my father’s disgust.
I have grown up
In the shadow of my brother
Who couldn’t be anything but perfect.
I have grown up
like a stray
I have grown up
I have survived.
I have grown up
I am alive.
Broken, bleeding and hurt
I have grown up.
Against all odds
I have grown up.
Hear the heavans roar..Yet not disney thats clear.'
Clear as shattererd wind-screens; as about faced is
The purveyor of dreams '
Nightmare solving clear and clean, not for kids
Or even adults consideration its seen.! seen through
Lifes two way mirror, heavily polished, and outlined'
With glitter.' By prancing people important types!
That thrive on publicity and plenty of hype.' They'll
Not stoop down to gritty takes.! Or so wer'e inforned
They'll not forsake, the moral highs? Or should I put
Disguuse? I'm sure we'll try them out then for size!
So no surprise ?
No way to explain it
No need to analyze
No rationale, so incredible
And no meaningful prize
No possible motive
Except maximum self
The conscious world ceases
Brains put on the shelf
Bad habits are just that
Unhealthy routines
Crossing borders, explosive
Loaded, meaningless fiends
And, yes, if G-d let's you
You'll endure this storm too
And the loathing, disgust
Will fade into view
Until the next time
When the devil drops by
Maybe wish him well
As you bid him goodbye.
(7/30/18)
I suggest, no, implore, spare me your disgust
When I am being my self … my imperfect self,
For even the finest iron has been known to rust
When exposed to the elements it must adjust
Like the perturbed perfectionist beside himself
I suggest, no, implore, spare me your disgust.
For some elements, unlike iron, will combust,
Perhaps when aggravated, not left on a shelf
For even the finest iron has been known to rust.
Your disgust signifies to me your utter distrust
Like some oft-abused, imaginary, holiday elf
I suggest, no, implore, spare me your disgust.
Is it that you covet some talent? If you must,
I have none … not even a meagre stash of pelf
For even the finest iron has been known to rust.
I feel the anguishing pangs of unrequited lust
While seeking metaphors alone by myself;
I suggest, no, implore, spare me your disgust
For even the finest iron has been known to rust.
written February 8, 2022
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.