Dick the dog dangles his balls for all to see.
I greet him on the way.
"How they hanging Dick?"
The question is rhetorical.
"Bark once if I smell immortal."
Dick pisses on my leg
while his owner speaks of Keats.
Pain deep in side the eyes,
pain to the core of a once beating love filled heart,
pain to a well knowledged mind, to fixated on the pain and loss inflicted upon it, that it’s become empty of love and filled with despair,
when the love you give to another has left your eyes, heart and head
and been replaced by grief, torment and the feeling of internal loneliness.
we have to ask ourselves what we are left with
memories of our life shared loving, caring and building the strongest unbreakable bonds,
or pain,
unforgiving, heart wrenching, mind torturing Pain.
Because
Pain kicks the door till the hinges snap,
spreads through your head like a loaded trap.
Rips up your sleep, feeds on your fears,
drinks your hope and pisses your tears.
It don’t just visit — it builds a nest,
and laughs while it crushes what you loved best.
A slack jawed drunk
thugs his way toward
a down-town bar and grill.
Red lights over sizzling steaks
add flames to his eyes.
Cincinnati on a Sunday morning
trashes its streets
cold winds scatter empty plastic cups,
cigarette butts, sick spills
and the ash of incinerated dinoursours.
Once there were rattle snakes,
now high-rise
mark their once tunneled territory.
The drunk can't find the door
to the bar
he pisses himself
grins through a window
at the beer guzzling diners.
Happy hour
drags itself
through the night,
the Sabbath has to be swept up
made to walk sober,
resurrected.
My poem was about innocent hearts
not purloined, perfumed farts
'Twas about forever lingering kisses
not everlasting, beer-induced pisses
Verses extoling glaciers' sheer grandeur
no excretions of gooses or ganders
Lines conjuring up treasured memories
nothing about S&M or pederasty
'Course, publishers rejected it out of hand
~ nothing to stimulate readers' trash glands
In the meadow, I sing so loud
I heart well to do the same in the sunny valley
Night freezes on my resting soul as do cloud
Morning pisses on my hasting arms like bees honey
Faith sets my legs on the rail of challenges
Hoping would have been helpful
But hustling isn't a sponge
Yet through contention, each day becomes beautiful
Come sun, come chance even in the rain
Makes room for my reign, not only for the gain
Thanks to you o God almighty my father
For keeping me strong in every weather
© 2020
® Olábòsóyè Wèmímó Oláolúwá
I want to write
I want to feel free
I want to take this regret and let it pass
I want to be happy
I want to look right past all my flaws
I want to hold close what 46 years has given
I want to see past that person that pisses me of that day
I want to forget all this fear
I want to live life like it was meant to be
I need to break free of these chains I've locked myself in
I want to not fear what you are going to think of me
I want to believe in myself for once and coast on through
I want to believe i am good enough for all of you
My heart hurts
This struggle is not my own
We all deserve love
We all deserve redemption
But that road is curved the control is in us
I want this world to see me for me
But my question is who am i?
It really pisses us off
You think we don’t know
We know more than you do
You were the last to be created
So, you are the real animals here
Destroying the world around you
And yet we let you remain here
But that will be coming to an end
We will make sure that you are gone
And that we are the ones left behind
Maybe then the planet can survive
As long as you are all gone
© Poem – I/XXIV/MMXXII
The Devil still plumbs the abysses
But girls know his serpent just hisses
If you really care
Let Eve tell you where
She pisses she misses French kisses!
..
Are there no stupid question
if i wasn't so busy i'd have time to ignore you
you look brighter when you don't speak
what do i like about you everything from the feet down
i would agree with you but why should we all be wrong
When people roll their eyes are they looking for their brain
i was born faking interest
i like being me look how many people it pisses off
only sarcastic when i'm awake
Mondays don't like me
Life full of disappointments
and you have made the list
ask me if i am crazy
i always answer yes
find me offensive...
The first time you see yourself
You cry
Torn between bewilderment
Flattened by view
All white skin
Pink and spotty
The remnants
Of teenage residue
The hormones on overload
Insanity has come early
So easy to bite
Everyone pisses themselves laughing
When you remove your clothes
Now you never undress in the light
O Grappa, goddess dregs of corpus grapes,
Distillate "digsetivo", whole must press,
Fond draught that spirits my carnal escape
From temperate gods, religions of less.
Your cruel "corretto" beguiled my hand
That morning to revel’s most fowl besmirch;
To suffer more grapes, you told me your plan
And the monks found me "morto" in church.
Turns out your proof laid me far less than quick
On the moors now banished to soiled quaffs,
Where claims I vanished in a pomace thick
Pisses my usurers quite rightly off.
Ah…to steep in more of her woody shoots
I do whilst eschewing the bastard brutes.
Chi town
death town
three years old
shot in the head
town
sick town
businesses burning down town
white flight town
chi-town-ghost town
another 14 dead over the weekend
town
the whole fn city can't breath
chi-town death clowns
juggling tombstones
town
riot town
tonight-another bloody night
town
A small Baptist church
sits in the middle of chi town
"the well of hope": it whispers in small black letters
night time-gang graffiti overtakes faith
pisses in the collection plate-
In the morning the pastor searches
the broom closet for a paintbrush
and only finds a laughing witch-
there's no answers to questions
the people no longer ask.
Beauty with you I cry,
with you I am not afraid to live or die.
I don’t resent your mystery,
you are so perfect to me.
But the Creator pisses me off,
makes me want to scream,
“Come out come out wherever you are.”
Blind faith… for Christ sake, I want to see.
Braille in spirit gets tiresome.
Go away you Big Bully
let me lay my head down
in the lap of Beauty.
Whatever you do don’t bother me
until you want to show me your face.
Of soldiers
And patients
Of the committed
And convicts
All their prayers
Fall beneath the floorboards or reach the surface
As roaches
of the empty room
who scatter when the lights come on.
But there is no score keeper to put them on.
Didn’t you know that redemption has
Always been just a rumor
And never payment to some trickster God
Who wrote the scripts
To all foul deeds which ends
With a lit cigarette or tears?
What do you expect when even the boss’s son doesn’t remember your name?
Didn’t know that the sons
And
Daughters
Of the gilded age
No longer pray
But that’s what happens
when the promise of the after life has been
Bought and sold
By the very best second story men
In the business?
And didn’t you know heaven is an SRO of vacant rooms
With waiting bathrooms down the hall?
Who wants to live with someone who pisses
On the toilet seat
With the door open
and refuses to flush
anyway?
A hot cup of tea greeting me—
first thing in the morning,
wife smiling unconditionally, xo!
hot water on tap, tsh…
neighbour’s doggy popping in to play,
“yap..yap..”
adding to the warmth,
a nice, steaming breakfast,
finishing the punch line of a poem—for a contest
colleagues in the department patting me on my new shirt,
boss on the phone, “good work, so and so!”
overhearing students chattering merrily—about my latest lecture
a brisk round of tick-tock table tennis,
back home for a sumptuous dinner
and chat with the family, “haha, cacka…packa.. he he”
dozing off while reading a book—zzz...
all these things do happen to me or anyone —
but not on the same day!
Actually, there may be water on tap—not hot
Or while petting, the neighbour’s puppy
pisses on your new shirt…etc!
It is after all my notion of a perfect day—a daydream!
***
Winner, Poetry Contest sponsored by Madison Demetros, December 5, 2017.
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