#weird poems

[definegodliness]

The dream I had last night makes Cerebral strangely foreboding. It was exactly this. There even was a part wherein I realised I was dreaming, when I saw my recently deceased uncle, alive. I hugged him. He looked like himself again. Then, I immediately set out to find 'you' with my newly gained dream freedom, but I couldn't 'feel' you anywhere. That was new. I got to see you for half a second. Then, your face malformed. And I almost opened my eyes, but I did not let the dream slip. Found my Grandpa after that.

I'll add the poem:

Cerebral

The golden Thread, the crystal ship, And all the sparking specks of light Escaping reality's grip, Combined, make dreams seem real, tonight.

Let tired eyes not let them slip At open fist; the chord, the kite, Aloft, so Wandering forlorn.

And I—, the fallacy To mourn.

[euesworld]

"You are a poem with a heartbeat, grown from honey bees I'm sure.. or you are a descendant of a flower, one or the other. Facts, don't laugh, I'm perplexed.. that pulse in your neck is the soul of the cosmos like a ghost working within you. Unlike the cold, dead moon you are filled to the brim with life.. light.. beauty in abundance, you are a bundle of joy and I love you like my fav childhood toy."

I'm a weirdo baby.. save me from myself and kiss me before I implode, haha - eUë

[the-metanoic-blog]

I'm a phase

[theywouldntletmeinman]

poem for me

i once met a man

more leg than man

with pretty face

and lots of sweaters

he loved himself

and i loved him

he was a very

pretty man

(this was written last winter, when i was more involved in live theater and had a much better grasp of my vanity. if i were to write a poem for me now, it would probably go like this :

hhhhhaaawwk

spittooey

eugh

blegh

im gonna

barf

hhhhawk

splat

gross

[unorthodox-poetry-blog]

Submit Your Poetry To This Blog

If you have poetry that is weird, dark, emotional, nonsensical, or even just a stream of thoughts, it will be appreciated here!

[the-grumpydragon]

First Kisses

I want my first kiss to matter You matter Kiss me Dammit

[theywouldntletmeinman]

this is a poem / this is a play / this concerns my celestial breasts

Act 1

-

i walked into life with my breasts out

and heavy cock in hand. it wasn’t

hard to seduce me from, coax me out,

of the womb but imagine the surprise

on the doctor’s face

when i beat off right!

in his

eyes!

-

Act II

-

i walked into life with my breasts out

and a hand rubbing my clitoris; was it

mine? was it yours? was it

my clitoris or had

someone gone and plastered it

there between my legs as i

choked a man in the back of a church and wished

i were he and

he were me

?

-

Act Three

-

i walked into life with my breasts out

and bumped them into a book

we all love you, shakespeare

i love you, billy

and the dirty jokes and the

pun in your crest; that fine

goatee - billy shakes,

oh, shakespeare

o, o, o, o!

-

Act I (Revised)

-

i walked into life with my breasts out

and he fondled them

slapped them occasionally

sucked on them and

made a wet

puddle, blithering lust-mess

blushed and

breathing warm

pile of want of me

so that when Death came

i took him fast and hard and he

finished in me like a

dam bursting; the child we birthed

can be seen in those

little poems i wrote

in the space between my

celestial breasts

[theywouldntletmeinman]

it’s a cold whore of november

“it’s a”

dear martha

“it’s a cold”

tripping over the twelve anti-abortion signs

“it’s a cold whore”

i collapse in the hydrangeas and

“it’s a cold whore of”

look at you from your front lawn with raving eyes and, shivering, scream :

“it’s a cold whore of november!

it’s a cold whore of november, my

dearest martha and not a single

ounce of guilt will warm my harried soul!”

and you scream just like this :

“aaaaaaaa”

and beating the scene, stumbling through a WASPnest

you call neighborhood watch and its a

“it’s a cold whore of november!”

it’s a cold whore of november

“aaaaa”

a cold whore of november, martha, my dearest

darling guilty