Never live in past tense,
Like I wish I knew.
Futuristic mind set
Like what I’m about to do.
Regrets are for the weak stomached,
Treat mistakes like what I learned from it.
Dumb dumbs love saying time is money.
When it’s lunch time I eat their money.
You must come from thin air money,
That I don’t care money.
I’m bout after the bell ring that’s their money.
Energy spent really means something
Worth every penny down to the blueberry muffin.
Y’all sick with it?
I’m the robitussin
In Her coffin
Miss Amelia Albright
glowed like a nightlight.
Her perfumes:
Ambergris, the testicular glands
of musk deer and rat. Extract
of Angelica,
were all buried with her.
A distinctive and troubling miasma.
One darkly attired mourner
parted his lips only to gag, mid-splutter.
The frail priest fell to his knees,
beseeching Holy Jesus
and his Mother.
Pure soul to the end,
(thank God and all his Saints),
she, with no hint of pique,
or complaint,
was not directed down to hell
for not even the devil himself
could withstand that smell.
Thus it was that Amelia,
transported on the shoulders
of strong stomached men,
stank all the way to heaven
and hell, and back again.
Fly swatter soup. Yum. Yum.
My palette is smiling. Mm Mm….
A rare delicacy, found only in the Midwest
If you live across the road from a pig farmer.
Best eaten in July, when the flies are biting.
Stomached by only a few.
Yes, it is exactly as tasty as you think.
Can I count on you at six?
Bring a friend.
Timothy, I've risen
Out of death prison
Out of darkness
I was chained
Tied down and beheaded
Decapitated
I've risen and grew
Away I flew
I was enchained
Restrained
I suffered
On a perfect grade
Endured
Forbeared
Stomached
Afflictions
Sadness
Grief distress
Accepted
Fullness dirtiness
Love's capable and powerful
Good invaluable treasure
Untreated, Integer
I'm word of love now
I reign with love now
Royal - no wicked doubtful broken
Unscrupulous failed perverse mind
I have a clean conscience
I thank love
which I worship
Due to love
I stand and do not slip
Timothy, I've risen!
She couldn't have stomached half of what I had to
Her tears couldn't fill up an ocean
Has his love ever even made her feel this broken?
She doesn't know half this heart ache
This ache causes me not to feel alive
I bet that girl doesn't know what it's like to feel dead inside
He tells me he doesn't love her but I know he does
Sometimes I wish I could have us back to what it was
I'll love him more than she ever will
It's amazing it has been 3 years and I still get that same thrill
She's the lucky one
She's the one
She gives him a feeling I cannot
It gives me a stomach knot
I am distraught
He sees a beauty in her that he doesn't see in me
Sometimes it's her I wish I could be
It gives me an anxious feeling
my heart skips beats
my heart drops
my heart stops
She doesn't know the abuse he's done to my mind
It is him in every guy I try to find
First love is the sweetest
First cut is the deepest
The song didn't lie
It's time to stop asking myself why
It's time for it to burn, it's time for it to die
I'm surrounded
By those that believe
By those who conceive
That one's obsession and possession
Can lead to G-d's affection
I don't question their position
That noncompliance is perdition
To some heaven here on Earth
Stomached by some lord's thick girth
I prefer a tempered vision
One without devout or fission
Something tangible with proof
Compared to magic, faith, aloof
I understand the desperate need
To lean on something beyond their seed
Some large, hypnotic master
To help us all avoid disaster
But then some shooter's flagrant whim
Mows down everyone but Him
How does that compute the feeling
While the corpses finish bleeding
And yet when circumstances perish
By some indignant source that's garish
Leaving us wishing for the force
To lessen fate's corrupt remorse
We bring our hands together
Our forlorn limbs of ash and leather
It doesn't matter how consistent
When the prodigal yell's insistent
I need the fix, I need it now
I don't care who, I don't care how
This leads to redeemers blazing trails
To stores where G-d's love goes on sale
Because when shoves are frail pushes
Who really cares who saves our tushes.
(8/15/15)
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.