Everyone dresses to impress but it's the inner heart and soul that shows true beauty
Said Fred, the resentful Doorman,
(overworked and underpaid)
to Ed, the surly Foreman,
(overrated yet undismayed)
'I'll call you a cab, if you beckon,
you'll want a quick getaway, I reckon,'
and snidely sniggered,
under his breath, 'You're a hack!'
surprising the top nob on the job,
as, Fred had the knack
of insulting, without denigrating,
and yet, debating
whether to hold a grudge,
Ed decided, 'Yes,' but not a big one,
which he couldn't carry, as it wouldn't budge.
And altho', toe to toe,
the two did not see eye to eye,
so, trading barbed epithets
and loud expletives on the fly,
they let go at one another,
I don't know, so don't ask me why.
These scars on my wrists that you just don’t see
This noose around my neck means nothing to me
It’s just the way my life is entrapped by your charm
Your centerpiece of loveliness, you see no harm
No fears, no care,s don’t worry about me
My overrated façade is all you’ll see.
Live your life- Live mine too
Damn! I hate being just like you
You talked of trust when you have none
You spoke love, I’ll “always be the one”
Where is your love now, as I drown in pain
Tears fall like rivers in this never-ending rain
No fears, no care,s don’t worry about me
My overrated façade is all you’ll see.
Live your life- Live mine too
Damn! I hate being just like you
As I waste away, you don’t hear my cry
Watch out, Boy- Soon I’ll just die
But I’ll be replaced by a new little trophy
And you won’t be sad, you’ll just forget me
They call it a race,
but it feels more like a circus—
tightropes stretched over flames,
clowns tripping over their own pride,
while I, in my worn sneakers,
stroll past their delicate egos.
Let them shout.
Their speed is a gunshot—
all noise, no aim.
I’ve got the calm of a bassline,
the steady rhythm of knowing
that slow doesn’t mean weak.
Victory? It’s a cheap bottle of wine
that tastes the same no matter who pours it.
I don’t need their finish line;
I’ve created my own,
from half-burned regrets
and the bricks they threw.
Organ-ize it
like some sort of sick
symphony
I suppose
though the latter half of my A&P
studies
suggest otherwise
working together in harmony
a kind of homeostasis, (it makes me
shudder to think of any living space being like that)
organ...ized
like fossilized something that sets out a course to
take place over eons of time
that no one small
frail human could ever understand
much less scratch with tiny hands
at the surface of..
it just feels so cold, so
desolate,
but despite all this languid poetry
and verse
the room still has to get cleaned
If ratings give meaning, symbolled with stars,
Then always keep on your ratings radar.
I’m trying to write my best poem by far,
Please rate it between a one and five star.
Lines as, ‘She brakes me as if I’m a car,
While my engine’s roaring like a jaguar!’
What, that’s too simple, need to raise the bar?
Ok, how about some hardy har har.
Like, ‘Friends of mine truly think they’re the Tsar!’
I say ‘Tsk, tsk, Tsar.’ Is that a one star?
Alright, alright let’s try something bizarre,
With a foreign slant; you with me so far?
‘Jones’s travels brought him to a bazaar;
He wanted dinner, but had no dinar.’
Ok folks, please rate that quip from Dakar.
Does it yet approach a two or three star?
Give me one more chance to get up to par,
For the next line may be a real all-star.
‘The sturgeon roe’d his boat for caviar.’
Is that great line worth at least a four star?
Why rate ‘show and tell’ like a kid’s toy car;
Does rating give purpose for who we are?
Ratings are playthings for wanna-be stars.
Still, increasing ratings’ rates is in our,
Need to soar somewhere, maybe way out far.
Yet, let the cosmos govern the five stars.
From a Happening Bar
Staggered into his car
And after forty miles
Still rich in The Saved’s Smiles,
As he foully staggered out…
Against huge hopes of a lout
Of a crashing incident
If not a killing accident…
A character people hyped:
A wrong name on the lists typed;
One needing to stand erect
Allowed ‘Star who’d direct’;
Just the magical result
That denies The Due insult…
Who has Charles overrated
And gifts exaggerated
And speed accelerated?
Just A Power over Beer
And maker of lingered leer
You will find structure is overrated
Producing humdrum routine most hated
Better to seek fun and love
And spirit rising above
Don’t let those local mores keep you weighted
It's not your looks, I
like but what you are INSIDE
*talking to my fridge*
Sometimes I pretend
that I’m dying to see if
my cat would save me.
I simply can't survive without love and appreciation
Yet I sure can live without romance's overdramatization
I am always understated
My parents make me frustrated
Boys are stupid
I am bad at being Cupid
I always end up with a jerk
Usually when I get my perks
I walk around with my sassy perks
Then a guy that said holla
I'm like ; you got a dolla
He's like why?
So I can be a balla
that's why I need that Dolla
I ain't no fool
Cuz I go to school
I'm good
Even though I'm from the hood.
I didn't mean to be hostile
My resentment got out of style
My anger took the best of me
Wish I can tell you that I'm sorry
But, sorry is overrated
I feel terribly jaded
Maybe I should of cooperated and stopped being defiant
Now, I regret this difficult, dangerous predicament
Bug off, guilt that overflows in me
I just want to no longer be in grief
Chase away my stagnant sorrow and instead, I should grow trees of tranquility
Just give me brief release and relief
I'll quit saying sorry, but I am sorry
My past - I wish I can forget entirely
Completely tired, bored and lonesome
At least I still feel somewhat handsome
You leave without a care...
It left me with long-term despair
You leaving us behind is awfully pitiful
Guilt will no longer overflow in me and I'm allowing His Word to make me feel whole
Sleep Deprivation over rated, not so deep
Until the morning when every cell wants sleep.
Anger issues pop up in large amounts, I am so tired.
Eyes are blood-shot, body is spent, headache and wired.
Sleep deprivation is a real thing, and it's sad when it rears its ugly head.
Sometimes all you have to do is go climb on top of a dirty old shed.
When you finally crash, and get some sleep, you are so insanely out
But then your favorite dog, runs out, thinks your dead, and wakes you up.
UGH!
i need someone who’ll show me how it’s done:
how you take a heart and stay in love.
i need someone who won’t reap my soul and run;
a shakespeare who rather have a raven than a dove.
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