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"Injecting the wall"

Injecting the wall is not a troll, if you roll with the ball when they call the wax doll things get dull and the goal is to fall down the hall if at all.

Cause we lol the whole mall. We go all into the poll that they sold, cause we're told don't stand tall and pay the toll, or we'll throw you into the row.

We get away from their lousy train, cause we hate disdain if it's in vain. Will they miss their aim when they smash their brain, and hit us with the whole crane .

Brains go out the drain. You can see it all unstained cause it's washed by the rain, but can see the frames in flames losing all fame, and tamed by James.

Never isn't long enough. You can never lose the cough. Though you can't unsee the bluff, they can never kill the love.

#poetry #poem #stanzas

"The longest log"

The longest log, says the blog is not enough for the cough. It's a bluff, it's a fluff that you puff or just huff. Cause you'll love just how rough, and just tough is the buff in handcuffs.

When you're through with the crew; cause you stood just for you, there's no cue or a clue, and it's true things get blue when a few say pew pew, it's not over, it's due.

We've been things and they shield rings. They don't clean their dirty grin. Fear the lynch unless they're pinched; their bread syringe, their deadly cringe, early Grinch, doors unhinged, rights infringe, keyhole binge.

Everything we have read about them also says death. It's like we're lying in bed and the priest is the fed; treason their cred, abuse left unsaid, our love for freedom they dread. The will of the people they fret without legal remorse or regret.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #poet #stanzas #verses #writing

"Potato sack"

Potato sack in the trap on the rack in the back; where they grab when you fuck, cause they hack the whole jack. They don't lack a good snack when the pack they say quack, and attack make a buck with the duck. They don't need a good luck to pile up on the stack.

Every day they betray the array on the tray; with old Ray burn the hay as we lay before may. Jay won't pay, he said nay. Is he gay, he won't say, but no way, he don't pray, hair won't gray.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #poet #stanzas #verses #gay potato sack

"So pretty"

Look at it, so pretty. Look at him, so gritty. Hear him out, he did it. Watch him sleep, so giddy.

Scope in the hole, new and old. See the ball, is the call. Senses dulled, moral fall, hidden sea-gull. Clean whore in dirty halls. Feel the jolts, hide the malt, in the salt; watch their waltz.

What a show, didn't matter you said no. They're not selfless though. Ho ho ho… fund the show, and cash the dough. What's the tree for.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #poet #stanzas #verses #so pretty

"Wings for the poor"

The wings of the poor left at the door, right by the floor, tied with a chord. It was around four, like they did before. You wonder what for. Why all the gore in all history lore. Greed is just more, never either or. Blood pour, the poor sent to roar, their souls tore; carnivore, bullets wore.

But sipping deeply, boss is creepy. Soul is iffy, anti-hippy, keyhole peeky. Loves your peepee. Gets you weepy dead and trippy.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #poet #stanzas #verses #wings #poor

"Around the door"

Around the door, chased by his bore down his core. It says no more after four in the lore, and in the tour.

You get a hunch around lunch, eating a bunch of things that crunch; cause what you munch has a punch…

To this date you sit and wait for the bait to come straight. You can't wait for their fate. So lock their gate, kill their hate never late, mate, not past 8. We just ate, let's not wait.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #poet #stanzas #verses #door #around

"Silly con"

Silly con got it on. Not a bum with a bun, just a cunt. They're not done with their fun. They're not gone with their gun. They are still not none. The eyes scoped on the nun, as$ pinched by the pawn.

They take the deal; selfless in the field, just paying bills as your home they conceal, and your money they steal, and your rights through they drill, and morale they throw on the grill. You can't hide on the hill, and just feel how you feel. Their fear is glued to your heel. The love in your heart they want to kill. The stillness of the mill doesn't pay their bill. The selflessness is not real. They want to reel our feel, and turn our love into fear.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #poet #stanzas #verses #silly #con

"The road to the monkey"

The road to the monkey is not too wonky, or clunky if you're funky, or take a leap while it's junky, and enforcing gets lumpy. Throats get gunky, and cars not so honky, and the kids not so punky.

The monkey on the back outside the sack smokes the crack, and locks you up.

They rob you to keep you safe, but you're not safe in your own place. They don't say it to your face with your water laced as your ass they mace, and you suffer at your own pace. Cause you can't embrace, so your fear they trace, and your life erase.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #poet #stanzas #verses #monkey #road

I challenge myself to write a new poem every day on stream. Here is today's poem. I called it Tiger in the sack.

"Tiger in the sack"

The tiger in the sack wants his stripes back in his bag with the bat. But they're bad like their dad. They're a fan of the system, it's a gang. And they gank retired Hank who just wank, to be frank. But they went like a prank, and then ran. Drove off the van. Next day got a tan in the sand, played the flute in a band; grabbed a horse by the wand. Says it's grand, their check in the bank; cause it cranks up the rank, and gets paid by the wank.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #stanzas #verses #tiger #sack

"Don't cloth the wolf"

Don't cloth the wolf, not playing golf, please not Adolf.

He loves the war, but outside the doors where it's a bore, and not a gore. A couple whores, not worth dying for. No fan lore, so give him more, either or. Wolfie roars, no eagle soars, back is tore; old carnivore. Diapers wore you know what for.

Throw him in a tank, he won't keep the rank when the thing just sank. He won't think it's dank. Ask him if he's frank when your home they gank.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #poet #stanzas #verses #wolf #cloth

"Easy loathe"

Easy loathe down the road where you're told, and asked how old; given a date down the hall, guess thieves like to troll. Stole thirteen homes in a call without a brawl; the injustice never falls.

It's their vice… murder, genocide. They don't try to hide, they don't try to fight; they don't even have to lie. Still "your" home is mine. Still they don't televise that they're not fighting the bad guys. They help fund all the mice all up in our rice; all the dirt that they buy. Will their greed ever die. Can we clock their last sigh? If you can't wait, nor can I. Thank goodness love never dies.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #poet #stanzas #verses #easy loathe

"Cycle inn"

cycle inn please come in from where you've been because they deem what you've seen bathed in grim in the water circling with their fin and their grin chanting the wrong hymn an open bible never seen they are keen of your things like your home and your keys where you lean where you sleep what you hear what you see what you mean what you lose what you win if you're fat if you're slim bob says fuck the police

#poetry #poem #original poetry

"Minty days"

Minty days around the bay. Please, don't say it's not a-okay inside the gate; waging minimum hate, making minimum say. You're never late, and you never mate. They never pay you any rate for favors, say; or the thing might break. What kind of face won't chase the trace that killed the grace that's in the phrase in the first phase, but they all a race to first betray on the first day. It's just old hate. It worked the slaves; favors that don't pay.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #poet #stanzas #verses #minty days #wage #hate #grace

"The peanut ladder"

The peanut ladder has his father, who only gathers cause he rather

lick the berries, cork the cherries; in the ferry next to hairy Kerry.

Likes to lay on the roof without that groove, and the ruse of those whose mind are obtuse.

They try to catch the fool all the way wrapped in wool; as long as it's evil and cruel, and in your sleep they catch the drool.

They like being used, and they see the abuse; yet they still allegate-accuse, and tie you up in the news.

They're never done flying low. While everything glows, and anything goes. If you want to know, you can catch them where the money flows.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #the peanut ladder #gathering berries

"The glass in the trash"

The glass in the trash next to no cash, but not to bash. Don't mean to crash in your garage; not gonna dodge, just not mid dash. Cause oh my gosh is that my hash.

All the backlash, another notch feels like too much, and there's no mosh. It's all a rush to make you shush, cause they don't touch, and they don't watch; yeah they don't tosh.

They want you crushed, but also hushed, so there's no trust. They're all just crust, crumbled dust of filthy rust. They knew what's just, but their minds are lost just like them most.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #poet #stanzas #verses #poets corner #poesia #glass #trash #trust

"The cup is groovy"

Water's in the cüp. It's not filled, büt it is to the döt, and it's what you göt. The water is nöt all the way höt. You can see thru a löt. If you don't smoke the pöt you can see all the röt, whether if you smoke it or nöt.

Fork on the röad, scoop up the cröw, taut up the böw. The tree you can't säw. So rank up the döugh. All in they gö. Rake up the höe. We're not flying löw. No sir, oh nö… here we go with the pöor; doesn't pertain thöugh.

The cup gröoves, with their möves on the röof.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #poet #stanzas #verses #groovy #water in the cup

"The car won't fit"

Carbs in the seat for hours in the heat; but the car won't fit by a pinch and a bit.

Some lady called, sounded lonely and dull, all the way across the hall of the tall old mall.

And it rained bread that washed the cred. It made them dead; can't wash their debt.

The sky said 'hey', but I was burning hay sitting around the bay, but the cops said nay.

And then they rob people of their home. They rob people of their goals. They keep feeding the wards. Morale is not on their board. This wasn't said on july the 4th. This is what amended the 4th; but no warning, no call. What is the 2nd supposed bring forth.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #poet #stanzas #verses #car wont fit #bread #home #ward

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