Immaturity

My Five Day Hallucination

It was Day 1 when it was scorching hot and we crossed paths.

I was looking for an oasis to drink from,

Though a hug from you was a thousand times better

Because afterwards, we went swimming in the lake and laughed at the gold diggers passing by.

Poor men were oblivious that they mined their last nugget in this desert.

 

It was Day 2 when we continued our journey.

You introduced me to your bitches when you brought me home.

One licked me silly while the second took a while to come around.

It was only trying to judge me to see if I would be a menace to your family.

I’ve always liked the playful, funny, and carefree breeds.

 

It was Day 3 when you showed me your larger-than-life garden.

You spoke of how your brother and mother had toiled day and night tending to it.

The garden was shaped like the number 5 and I couldn’t be happier.

You regaled me with stories of an ancient civilization that once existed in this land of the dead.

Every word from your tongue between breaths was like a missing page in a book lost in time.

 

It was Day 4 when I crawled on my knees after a beating from a two-faced sergeant

Looking for you so you could lift me back on my two feet and hold me close

But to add insult to injury, you held your scorn like you should’ve held my hands.

So I passed out on the floor and was left for dead out in the open.

How do indecisive weeds like you sleep at night?

 

It was Day 5 when I woke up expecting you’d be there, but your home was empty.

Your garden was withered and the magic was gone so it turns out that it was all a mirage.

You can rationalize your actions and demonize me any way you like,

But when you save your second thoughts for one minute before midnight,

It’s goodbye and good riddance to you weeds.

 

So I left. It was better for me to abandon you before you inevitably did the same.

The world is full of snakes and trojans as it is.

It’s best for me to give them a dose of their own venom as soon as I see right through them.

 

You should’ve told me earlier rather than at the last minute.

Or when I have fallen and can’t get up.

Then maybe we could’ve still been friends.

But now you’re just another silhouette that shears hearts like hedges.

 

If you’re looking to post an ad requesting company in a moment of loneliness,

Think again before you shatter another heart or wager your sanity.

A weed ain’t cut out for love, let alone a friendship

If it can’t make up its mind and let its loneliness fog its judgment.

Poor guy should’ve inspected the thorns before he picked the rose.

 

Now it’s my turn to wager a few things,

I bet you don’t even miss me.

I bet you feigned regret that you added salt in the wound.

I bet that you’ll forget all about me after the weekend I disappeared.

I bet you’ll cower in the arms of the two bitches you value most in life.

I bet you’ll start looking for another soul that you’ll pray to Aphrodite you won’t screw over.

Whatever happens to you, I am grateful that I have kin to keep tight

And an adventure I continue to embark on in the desert with or without you there for me.

You’re just another silhouette that shears hearts like hedges.

Cigarilla Girl

You're standin' outside, one foot tappin'
Arm tucked 'neath the other,
Smoke rings curlin', up your face,
lingering in light blonde dyed hair,
just waitin' for me to scent,
as our lips meet, and our legs twine.

Mouth sweet as sin, your body . . .well, just full of win,
Your teeth, lips and tongue, a burning wet trifecta,
Making me want to take you again and again.

Yet again.

Your hair full of a scent, that doesn't really belong anywhere,
But it somehow seems to fit you right,
Lying there, between us.

Cigarillo sweetness, sweetly dark and mellow,
Brings to mind, the silken sighs, as between silken thighs,
The gates to heaven are thrust open.

(And not just any heaven mind you,
Heaven that God his own self made, for God his own self,
All other heavenly aspirations made, purgatory by example.)

You whimper and cry, as shushing you I try,
My poor slob of a roommate crying inside her head,
As her hand pumps away 'neath tousled sheets,
Your screams for God making her weep,
As her cramped fingers prove understandably ineffectual.

The steady loudening of my growls,
As on the bed I prowl, taking what is mine,
From behind, fingers flicking, 'neath your lowest hair,
Getting you just right, right there,
Other hand clenched in short, tousled hair,
Arching you back, in time with the thwack,
Thwacking, as need meets greed and with every barely concealed scream,
you cream and cream.

The smack of my hand, as soft skin hardened,
Meets the taut skin, of ass and hips arching with need,
Lovely Whip-Crack! and you whimper and grind,
Halfway out of your mind, pain and pleasure lines that blur from being so. . .
Intertwined.

Poor roommate's fingers, cleaner than ever and steadily weakening,
Peaking, an ever more distant dream, as two rooms away,
Your screams continue on and her follicles reach new heights of exfoliation,
Her pillows bathed again, with tears of questionable orientation.

God and I are synonymous, in your vocalizations,
As on us, your fingers claw out the braille of your need,
Which with thrust and bite, hair pulled tight,
I strive to meet, and tightly hold back this flood of seed,
With will and trained muscles strained tight.

You clench me and clasp,
With the hidden muscles in which my throbbing need basks,
And my mind is filled with such a need,
That it's so hard to think,
As in you again and again, I sink.

The alpha and omega, combine inside you,
Sin made flesh,
An angel with sheared off wings,
In the arms of a sinner,
And I make you beg and beg,
Please Sir! a mantra you cry,
As from me you try,
To get the permission needed to fall,
Into the well of mindless need,
Turned indulgent satisfaction.

Permission grudgingly granted,
A growled yessss near your ear,
Hot breath sinking inside you, your eyes rolling in titillation,
The longed for allowance,
To taste the rainbow colored spectrum of your body's,
Shuddering completion.

And shudder you do, as toes clench and thighs squeeze around me,
The little whimper laugh you give, as your hips flex and grip me,
Inside convolutions, silken warmth made palpable magic,
Magic turned into a roaring noise, you and your body the center of a vast universe of need,
And mine as I take you and make you, crave me more and more.

Crying for me to fill you, the where need not be released,
As release I do, where you poo, nary an off smell once emitted,
Or a strange substance felt,
For which great relief is dealt, to a mind traumatized by such in a distant past.

You whimper and cry, soft sounds of delight making me inward ask why,
As to softly and gently extricate myself, I try,
A few more slow thrusts, because even though my nut I did bust,
Leaving the heaven's heavenly sanctuary of your body is a trial.

Inwardly I laugh and smile.

Your slow fall to the bed where you bask,
The afterglow a sweet silken mask,
Much like the sweat that sheens both our bodies,
Satisfied sighs and little moans, making me inwardly groan.

I laugh and I smile, inside all the while,
As unfortunate roommate never did come,
A knockin' or otherwise, her sad reality gleefully so in perspective.

I was one of your best, on a list fairly long for your age if not that long at all,
And you could have been one of mine,
But you had to let your mind f*** with your head,
Thinking you were in love with me, shouldn't have driven you from my bed,
Or the arms, of a guy that valued you and still does, as more than a lay,
Even though that's how you often made him feel.

Your head is a mess, your heart a mass of confusion,
And your time spent thus far, lacking for deep introspection,
Though it's a road you seem to be taking, if taking too late.

Maturity above most your age,
Yet still a child in so many ways,
It was unpleasant, our parting,
Freedom for you break, the granting of, the severing of,
Maybe my mistake.

But being terrified of me, after the words you spoke,
a secret revealed,
As we lie in bed twining,
Your mistake and one you did nothing to rectify nor explain,
Not having the words your last refrain.

It seems a shame, our story seemingly finished,
Before many words were even set to page.

I hadn't expected, the white-picket-fence-happy-ending,
I knew you were no where near that place,
Inside the tumult of your own chaos,
But I did hope for, the time to see,
What our story could be, because I know you began to believe in happiness once more,
But you chose to run, hands over ears as you repeated nananananaana over and over again,
Afraid of that which you want but refuse to believe in.

Your hypocritical irony, a sad story you narrate anew, every day.

So I'll miss you in my bed.

I'll miss you curled around me in sleep, head burrowed into my back,
As I reach back, clasping your firm ass and pulling you to me tighter.

I just wish you'd dealt with me like an adult, shared the respect I always had for you.

But you've helped me realize a mistake it seems I am doomed to make,
The definition of insanity, as again and again I try, hoping always for a new result,
My flaw starts in seeing someone's potential, and ends in the need to help it grow,
With shared heart and nurturing hands, shrewd mind spent investigating the needs that bloom,
Behind shy eyes and eager flesh.

While my own become forgotten things, withering away in their corner,
As at the altar of your whim I pray.

Often satisfied with airborne saliva fueled benedictions.

The 8 hr tattoo I'll be getting, a final symbol and recognition,
Not of you, no, but of what you represent,
And those like you, that wander into my life time and again.

I'll bleed you out, under that needle gun,
And place an image of beauty over what you didn't even bother to miss,
Let alone acknowledge.

Heart beating in time, to the buzzing drone of ink covered catharsis,
As in my skin, remembrance will ever be carved,
A beauty that will never be wasted,
Never be spent,
Upon another disappointment in a life of one after another.

I'll bleed you out, as over my heart forms, gilded protection,
Affection in the detail, this picture so much more than a thousand words,
And I'll smile, all the while, because you will never get to see.
Just what it is, your careless nonchalance finally helped form for me.

Your absence simply makes room for someone worthwhile,
And in a few years, you'll look back and regret your sad apathy.

I know, for I was once a silly child, too.

And you never ever really forget, being a silly child, and what as silly children we do.

No, you never ever, really do.

May you fly again, my Cigarillo Girl,
On the wings you will obtain, if you ever deal with your personal shame,
And your fears of beauty inside or out,
Your stupid denial of happiness ever manifesting.

Your greatest enemy exists in your head,
A parasite daily fed, by the lies and negativity,
in which you'd rather indulge.

I hope that one day, you'll stop being such a coward.

The words I took back, I will give you once more,
As this is farewell, and I don't plan to see you again,
Because as much adult as there is, you still play the child,
My disappointment is. . . .more than mild.

Be well, enjoy the rest the new semester.

Feel free to leave my book in the mailbox.

View blueeyes's Full Portfolio

Immature Boys

They are cute,
They’re funny,
but sometimes immature.

Never mention a dream,
About another boy,
In front of an immature boy.

All that will do,
Is lead to problems,
Or heartbreak.

View thisisme789's Full Portfolio

Little Boy

I'm just a little boy, but shes looking my way.
I'm just a little boy, but shes got her intentions.
I'm just a little boy, but she only wants a kiss...

Remind me how I got into this?

I never tried to be the main attraction.
Now shes sad and I'm the distraction.

Just a boy who met a girl,
I never imagined it to be anything more...

Now shes crushed and crossing out my name from that heart she drew on her notebook.
And writing her sad poetry,
About the boy who broke her heart,
So much for sympathy...

Your much to wise,
Why do you love me?
I'm just a little boy,
You can't rely on me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I recall my inspiration being in high school and seeing all the young immature guys swept up in relationships they completely didn't understand and all the girls maturing faster as they did, getting hurt by boys who were just too inexperienced and immature.

View lostinyou's Full Portfolio

Innocence

The moon sets low,

As the temperatures rise.

Temptation is taking over me,

As I look into his eyes.

Midnight walks across the skies,

My heart being my only guide.

Should I follow,

Or stay behind—

Safely on the other side?

Should I swallow my fear,

And let him come as so near?

If I give in,

My innocence will be taken;

And if I don't,

Will I be forsaken?

My body trembles,

As his lips touch mine;

The taste of his mouth,

So sweetly divine.

Will I follow suit,

Or stay behind?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written in November or December of 2001

View takemewithy0u's Full Portfolio

04-01 Like That Worthless Face Card...

Folder: 
DailyPoetryProject

Haha, you were expecting a poem!

April fools!

Oh, crap,

I think this still counts.



Oh well,

I tried.

Hey!

Whatever happened to Obama?

See how I throw off the scent,

distracting you from the original problem?

Maybe we’re all fools,

motley as we are.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The title's a bit of a riddle, yay. Not sure if this really counts as a poem, or just April Fools' drivel.

View vulcanjedi's Full Portfolio

Shelly

I once had a mystery girl

Who spoke to me in tandem ways

A basic night was bathed in light

To let her find my consciousness



She spoke of love and seeking out

I begged her to concede

She'd just smile and fade to black

And I'd just wait and see



Schedules kept me up for days

But I waited like a stone

And statuesque I'd think and stare

Until I aged so narrow



And so at last, something gave

My dreams did start to lapse

I slowly learned to forget her ways

Her face became a shadow



I feel affection, far off shore

As I deny my solitude

Buckle down and brace for strife

While nothing ever changes



With her in mind, I felt calm

But cheated by the scorn

The world aloud had fewer words

As I tried to better myself



I fought and gained some small insight

Told myself just not to care

And soon beheld, I lost her touch

In the very back of my head



With none in mind I carry time

To herald my dear charm

Eluding all but closest realms

I pretend to not exist



And without her I shall find worth

As I pillar for my home

But when I fall, perhaps she'll be

A sweet thing to land upon.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Who's Shelly?

View sivus's Full Portfolio

Chaos is in the Element, not the Timing

You are not your precise weapon of mass

You are young and immobile, being thrown around

In a pit of misunderstanding, sweat and vomit

To think of yourself as determined, hardened

A stark contrast to your appearance,

As a weak little thing in the grand scheme of thrash

You know nothing, scream nonsense like an anthem

You believe in the tar pits that surround you

And indulge in the spikes that you raise

Learn something valuable and commit it to your head

Kill yourself when you've really exhausted your chance

Potentials can lift, they can descend

You are no more than a notion at this point in time

Craft yourself, don't self-destruct so soon

Especially for a cause that is not of your own configure

Embrace your youth and see that it is good

It is right and it is pure to be blissfully unaware

Of all that can hurt you in this lifetime

You've got years on reserve, and you're sacrificing

For attention from skunk stripes and bolts through flesh

Wake up and listen to what's booming in your head

It means nothing, it is not art

It is not worth dying for.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

So cool.

View sivus's Full Portfolio

written in red

oh my

little man in blue

there's a little girl in you

with a red rain coat



and oh my

darling dearest dear

eyes so full of fear

in the roadside woods



let's play a tune on the piano

and turn the yellow pages

of the songs i wrote so long ago

the feelings may seem strange

but the words they never age

you could always rearrange them

but you'll never really change them



oh my

dark dark earth

now ash in my hearth

a sweet soul pleaser



and oh my

the dangerous days

my mind in a haze

i almost forgot them



let's play a tune on the piano

and turn the yellow pages

of the songs i wrote so long ago

the feelings may seem mad

and the writing may be bad

but i understand them still

and you know i always will

View kragey's Full Portfolio