Destroy This PoemDestroy This PoemDestroy This Poem8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
To the person grading this poem
To the kind, patient woman hovering over this with a pen
Waiting to say kind, patient words in response, do me a favor:
Dont Patronize me.
I did not slave over this with hammer and anvil
Shaping it into a masterpiece.
I didnt paint it onto the ceiling of some church,
Going blind from the pain and the stress.
I didnt even turn this in on time.
And while Im writing this in my fifth-period economy class,
You can bet Im not concerned with iambs and troches and Italian terza rima.
No, Im concerned with how much water is left in my water bottle.
This isnt a masterpiece.
Who are we kidding?
Youre not going to hurt it, and you most certainly arent going to hurt me.
Dont patronize me.
I want you to destroy my work.
I want you to rip it to shreds with sadistic dominatrix glee.
Tear it apart from margin to margin;
Laugh openly at its crippled, struggling body.
Found God1. The first time I found GodFound God2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
Was when I was 15.
I found God in a pen.
I scribbled down words
And he brought them to life.
2. They found God in their phone.
Instead of handling the awkwardness
Of the party,
They prayed to God to get them out.
3. He found God in his paycheck.
He locks himself in his office
As if it was a church,
Hoping to see God again.
I think I saw him praying
Last week when I visited.
4. She found God
In the mirror.
When she looked at God
In the eyes,
She freaked out
And punched the mirror until it shattered.
The devil put his hand over
Her fist and told her it’ll be alright.
5. They found God in each other.
I thought that would make them happy
But every time they’re together,
They throw the Devil at each other
In an odd game of Dodge ball.
6. He found God
At the bottom
Of a Bottle.
And every time he sees him,
God shows him a little piece
Then helps him vomit out the demons
Inside of him.
7. She found God in a needle.
Then she found God in hers
.:: Late Night-Nightmare ::.Hush little baby..:: Late Night-Nightmare ::.8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
Dont you cry.
Daddy's having fun.
Mommy's gonna die.
Daddy has a funny look.
He kisses mommy with one word.
It comes out slurred from the alcohol.
"Hush now, my baby doll.."
He whispers to mommy
And slits her throat so grottely
The wound is colourful, very strong to seem.
I wish I could awake from this horrible dream.
I whimper and start to cry.
Why, why, why did my mum just die?
Now Daddy looks at me
And I turn away
"Now my petal,
Let Daddy have his way."
I freeze at those words.
Those sick fuckin' words.
Blocking out the sun.
"Hush now my darling,
Its only a bit of fun..."
Music Is...What is music?Music Is...8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
A little boy asked me that today.
I bent down so that our faces were level
And then I said to him with a smile,
Why do you care?
Out of so many people today
Why do you care?
He looked back at me
His eyes too thoughtful for his age
And he said right back to me,
Because I want to make good music.
I liked that answer, and I told him so.
He was happy and he smiled.
Take my hand, I said, and walk with me now
And I will show you those things that proper music make.
He put his small hand into mine and came with me.
I didnt know what to make of this, he trusted me.
But I led him along, and as I did I pointed out
Some of those things that proper music make.
Music, I said, is the harmony in the world
Brought together to create a myriad of sensations.
Music is our footsteps on the ground
Music is my walking with you.
Music is that ancient couple over there
See how elderly they are, yet they see each
i want to tell youimagine a world without genderi want to tell you4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
a world where we are not confined
to the arbitrary interpretations of
an inexact biology. imagine we could
rise above the places
below our waists, reside instead in
graceful hands, in angled cheekbones
in some deeper conception than this
skewed perception of you.
I strip myself bare of unforgiving flesh,
squinting behind dim caverns of girl parts--
what are girl parts? all we have are beating
I sit inside this trembling body, shoulder
to hunched shoulder,
stacks of bones too unsure
to be brave enough to tell you that
my gender will never fit on the plastic sign
above a bathroom door.
and I've never filled out a single
form where they didn't ask me for
me to choose one or the other,
sister or brother, father or
mother, i want to tell you but
I'm slipping between sidewalk cracks
walking down the street hearing wolf whistles and
I want to tell you please don't read between
the lines, erase the goddamn
lines, this has nothing to do with
and I w
Lullaby"I've been waiting my entire life to tell you that I'm dying and I figured I'd finally get it over with.Lullaby5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
So here I am, carving forgive me
into my teeth, so every time that I speak
I can still say that I'm sorry.
More years have passed in the last than I care to remember
but I could never forget:
In eighth grade my chorus teacher always told me,
'Michael, you'll never be good enough.'
and it always excited me. It reminded me of my mother.
On the last day of school she smiled,
her teeth jagged like a train wreck,
she didn't say a word,
but I knew exactly what she meant.
In high school I fell in love with a roadside bomb waiting to be detonated by a passing glance.
Every time she blew up,
she'd pick the pieces of herself off of bathroom floors
mixed with the medicine she never needed. She had
One day she caught me staring, smiled, walked over, and hugged me...
she smelled like a lonely night.
As she pulled away she looked me dead in the eyes and said,
'Don't worry abou
Seventeen CandlesSeventeen Candles4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
Seventeen candles mark the day
Nine months since you've gone away
Quickly you came and quickly you went
All your days have been spent
There are no more tears and sad goodbyes
Only truths and fading lies
One stands out among the rest
One that surely is the best
We will miss you, this is true
For you, are the sparrow, the one who flew
CrushI can only pray that he feels the same.Crush10 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
If not so, then I shall push away.
The only love I want is pure and true.
Not a love based on lust and lies.
When he speaks my name my heart does melt.
But I wonder why.
And when his name escapes my lips....
What is it that he's felt?
Call to me and say you want me too.
Right now all I can think about is you.
Fear embraces my hearts true feelings.
And for this I wish you away.
Frightened that you may not feel the same.
My heart still cries....
Won't you be mine?
My heart has bled in the past.
So many things left unsaid.
But with you it's all surpassed.
A crush so painful and blind.
When will he open his eyes?
THAT POEM (Writer's Block)I sat down at my computer last Thursday nightTHAT POEM (Writer's Block)4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
with the full intention of writing THAT POEM. Oh, don't
play dumb. You know what THAT POEM is. We all know
what THAT POEM is. You with the cigarette train-tracks
charting your eternal drift to nowhere
on the insides of your arms, you
with the sludge of alcohol dripping thick & brown through
veins swollen & slow & pussy as zombies, you
with the eight children whose faces you can't remember
& the husband in the Hamptons whose name you sometimes forget
& the lover who never seems to come around as much as you pay him to you
all know what THAT POEM
is. It's the rhythm beating a dull staccato in your skull
when you've taken something to take the edge off, the weary shadows sinking senseless
into the black-slung cradles hiding underneath your
bloodshot eyes. It's the weight of the gun & the way its metal feels
when you push it against the squelching skin of your skull not to kill yourself, just to feel it,
to know you could. This wa
Carpe DiemI have set those free, who I do not need,Carpe Diem8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
In order to get a tighter grasp on those I do.
I have gone down roads without destinations,
To accidentally stumble upon heaven, and bits of hell.
Miles of concrete gobbled up by underbellies of cold machines,
And at my lowest points, I have counted my blessings.
I am okay with loss now.
I am okay with picking up the pieces.
And I am definitely okay with trying.
Minutes and hours have passed where I have felt nothing but content inside this heart,
And in that,
I am okay with crossing out calendar days, which held moments of despair.
Because I have realized:
After the storms have passed, and the earth is busy dissolving the aftermath,
Darkness falls, and in the mean-time,
The sun will always peak over the horizon.
I will have a childs eyes, seeing everything for the first time,
And everything will be beautiful again.
The nature of inspirationWhen was the last timeThe nature of inspiration4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
You heard the word 'erection' in poetry?
I think it was a while back
Between the pages
I mean "humans" don't even play
Or just rise to the thirteen year old tree-house
Inside us all
Where politeness is a foul facade
And we aren't afraid of our fingers.
We prioritise the silhouettes
The way pressing pen into paper
Made us so
And out of
Inspiration isn't a pretty, pristine river...
And it's about time we became
It's about time
We let up
And let it
Burn us up
Turn us on
Turn us up
Our wobbly bits
Into an aphrodisiac
So if there's any P.S.
Poetry can teach you
the word 'erection'.
don't get tired of elephants yetI've had my crippling moments.don't get tired of elephants yet4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
They'd either start in my stomach
with an ache like broken glass
or stab me right in the catharsis,
somewhere near my heart or breath
or maybe my left foot.
I wouldn't know how it feels
to hurt to walk, but I imagine
with a destination like farther,
it's no pilgrimage.
So take the burden off your back.
Life is not a sandstorm
and your lungs are only a mirage
if you expect to see your breath
every time you breathe.
So take a breath
back, just one step
and listen with your smoke signals.
Help is on the way.
I just can't promise
it knows much about this lifetime.
It's the same way I could never promise
elephants remember everything
or that every Elvis impersonator
means thank you very much outside
of his facade. Don't bother asking God either.
He wouldn't know and he wouldn't care.
He's still trying to number the hairs
on my head, hoping he won't lose count.
Our days are often double-digit jerseyed.
And go ahead and tell me now that this isn't a game.
HeartbreakWhen you walk awayHeartbreak9 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
I count how many steps you take
As you leave my life forever.
When you turn away from me
I lose sight of the face I
Once thought was in my life forever.
When you don't speak to me
My heart breaks since
I miss the way your voice sounded
When I assumed you were mine forever.
When you leave my heart
The pieces of my broken heart
Are missing you so.
When you're gone forever
You leave heartbreak in your wake.
I never thought it'd hurt that much
When you left.
Days seem likes years without you.
I need you when I cry
Even though I never though so before.
You're out of my life forever.
You've left me with severe heartbreak.
And the sore truth is.....
I still love you.
CuttingYou asked me to stop cutting.Cutting8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
Dont you understand?
Talking doesnt help.
Yeah, I show up to school with cuts and scars.
But you must, you have to, understand why,
I do what I do.
Its not some fad.
Im not looking for attention.
Im not doing it because everyone else is.
Nor am I doing it because I think its cool.
I do it because I dont know how.
How to stop the pain...
HIT ME RUNNINGDon't sell me funeral plotsHIT ME RUNNING12 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
on late night television
if the end is already in sight
am I supposed to pull the sheets up to my neck,
count to zero,
smile, and cease?
keep your pills, in all their pretty colors:
celebrex, propecia, allegra, lipitor, zanex, viagra
keep them for scrabble
keep your rogaine, your facelifts
keep your death insurance
keep your graveyard reservations
hit me running.
let me go down swinging
make it a sport:
give me a ten-minute head start
and an obstacle course.
place a beautiful girl on the far side of a mine field
and whisper, "she wants to kiss you"
target me on my feet
dodging doomsday's in slow-mo bullet time
let me duel the grim reaper in a poetry slam
but let me lay where i fall
let the buzzards and coyotes
pick apart my bones
don't stuff me and sew me up
waste my estate on alcohol for my wake
instead of wood for a coffin,
build me a funeral pyre
and set me ablaze like a pagan-warrior-king
Cutters LullabyGo to sleep, and close your eyes,Cutters Lullaby9 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
And dream of broken butterflies
That tore their wings against a thorn.
You know the pain thet they have borne.
Silver metal, shine so bright.
Scarlet blood, that feels so right.
Dream of that blood trickling down,
And wake up just before you drown.
The moonlight's shining off your tears
As you bleed out your own worst fears.
So tonight when you start to cry
Whisper the cutters' lullaby:
Hushabye baby, you're almost dead.
You don't have a pulse and your pillow is red.
Your family hates you, your friends let you bleed.
Sleep tight with a knife, cause it's all that you need.
Rockabye baby, broken and scarred.
You didn't know that life would be this hard.
Time to end the pain that you hid so well,
And down will come baby, straight back to hell
For A FriendYou wandered into my life,For A Friend10 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
And walked straight into my heart.
A single smile was all that was needed,
For our amazing friendship to start.
You gave me new hope,
When I though that all was lost.
You always held my hand,
During all the roads we've crossed.
You're my protector, my blood sister,
The one who reads my mind.
Who laughs at my lame jokes,
And helps me escape the daily grind.
So confident and loving,
A free spirit so pure.
Who shares my love of music,
Her one and only Cure.
I hope you'll always remember,
That you'll forever have a friend in me.
And I know if I asked the same of you,
You would always agree.
It's hard to imagine my life,
If it was without you,
We've always stuck together,
No matter what stupid shit we do.
I fear now that your leaving,
A fear I'm not willing to face.
Coz I know that if you left,
My world would be a duller place.
I know life can confuse you sometimes,
But I now you'll figure it all out in the end.
Because that's how ama
safe-house songyou tie your words togethersafe-house song7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
like loose thread, leaving
nothing left to trip over: no trail to follow.
your voice is shallow, heartbeat
steady as the cadence of the second-hand.
Away from the window,
admission flows forth like mercury.
yes, i held my breath. yes.
i can still smell the earth;
can still imagine the
insouciance of spring
a hat made of bricksLet me plot it out for youa hat made of bricks5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
in the moment that I will wipe off this cake smear from my eyebrow, pull the warm cookie dough out of my nostrils I will
I will change something!
in the moment that I blow the feathery feathers from the pillow I like to chew on for days and nights
and nights that are in fact only
transvestites of pure sharp daylight bodies in dark glittery flowing gowns
as soon as I
get all these feathers down and out and down
I will change something!
I have already planned a certain number of possible attempts and
would be quite pleased if you could
stand next to me and
cross them off the list
pen that has
magical fragranced ink because I think
everything that happens now needs to be
needs to be more pleasant for the nose than what I have been doing to myself lately
I cannot have my feet melt the asphalt anymore from standing too long on a spot and I
feel the sun drop right through my brain
I mean it
right through my brain and through my veins and right into
LAll these murders.L8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
These killings must end.
And I will be the one to end them.
One person, I am sure.
Hundreds of victims, perhaps,
But only one killer.
Hundreds of victims.
Hundreds of criminals.
But no matter.
A victim is a victim,
Just as a murder is a murder.
But this killer is clever.
As clever as I am myself.
A tough opponent.
One that I must bring down.
These killings cannot continue.
Some people see these killings as righteous.
The only victims so far are, after all, criminals.
But they do not see things the way that I do.
They do not understand.
Not at all.
These killings, these murders,
Are not righteous.
The crime rates have gone down,
As I must admit,
But that does not make these killings right.
Far from it.
But I will catch this killer.
I am justice.
And justice will prevail.
poemToday I cried a painful tearpoem11 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
for the world that's falling apart.
The violence and the terrible ways,
I wish people would have heart.
The people of the world today,
It's obvious they just don't care.
The worlds too busy thinking of themselves,
They're really not aware!
The world is going very fast,
Please hear the words I say.
With a prayer, and some love, and little luck…
We might shape up someday.
I have a message to the world
The only answer I see
The way to keep our world alive,
Is to think more of WE …..than ME!
The Emo GirlLook at the little emo girlThe Emo Girl9 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
She crys all night
She hardley sleeps
She cuts herself
and sometimes wants to die
Does anyone ever notice her?
She hides behind her hair,
her dark eyeliner and tons of black clothes
She wears arm warmers and long sleeved shirts
and she has lots of piercings
She likes someone that barely even notices her
She chews on her lip ring everytime he walks by her
Alone she remembers her childhood
alone and beaten
living with abusive parents
She blocks part of her memories
not wanting to remember the word rape
She crys in her room and writes in her notebook
She's written so many suicide notes but has not bee able to follow through
Wanting death but afraid to die
She drowns herself in her music
and wonders if anyone would care if she was to die
She hides her scars from everyone around her
She lets her past be known to none
All the beatings, all the pain
the mental and physical scars
Alone she crys
with only her razor and awaiting her doom
Will anyone try to
SpillWhat better place to spill your thoughts than upon a blank sheet of paper.Spill4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
As one's unique prayers are intertwined ardently through
those same hundreds of words spoken by thousands of people,
every minute, every day,
take paper and pen as many have before you,
and make it yours alone,
ardently intertwining yourself--
Your thought, your mind, your soul,
to truly, make it
every stroke of a brush, swipe of a pen, drag of graphite is inspired by something--
a thought, that
this letter, this line, this contour, this curve, this motion,
shall represent a being, an object, a representative of fluid thought
that does not cease, but continues on end until that clairvoyant mind shall declare it so.
And it all belongs only
as your heart leaps obstacles holding the hand of the one you love,
take hold of that
pen, paint, canvas, that guitar, piano, microphone,
your body in motion to the bum-bada beat..
Take it all, with your soul and oh, so fervently,
Grammar PoemGrammar.Grammar Poem6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
I fear for the world today.
A world in which, 'Where you at?'
Constitutes as a question.
'I did good.'
'None of them work.'
You have been fooled.
'Where are you?' will suffice.
'I did well.' Is nice.
'None of them works.' Is lovely.
So, my gentle snowflakes,
Perhaps I love grammar a little too much,
And perhaps I'm just exacerbating things,
But damn it,
A world without grammar,