Author: Unknown
‘TWIXT A TWERP AND A TWIN
are you the one who is trying to come ‘twixt she and me?
Are you the one who makes her blush like the roses we Are blessed to see?
Couldst you be the one to split up a couple alegedly laden with love?
And are you the one who promised to gather and grant her every star above?
Wouldst thou presume to have the power
At any second, minute or hour
To make me fade like a fireplace and its smoke
And then try to rekindle the embers she came to stoke
Must you be taught about her ample lust?
And the pies she bakes with a buttery crust?
Will you be the one, the weed and the wedge?
But take heed when she’s tries to lead you the edge
So, you must be the one who thinks himself suave and urbane
Okay, I say, go learn about the intricacies of the lady’s brain
Then strike up a conversation about being handsome and rich
Do all that because I certainly don’t want the ignorant b*tch
© 2011.….free cee! PHREEPOETREE
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2011
About this poem:
THE MUSIC MADE ME DO IT
i'm not kidding, the ghost of Lawrece Welk compelled me to write this so i did...i do everything larry tells me to do
Post Comment
Author: Unknown
HEY DOC, YOUR DAUGHTER MAKES ME HARD AS A ROCK
“Now relax while I show you some pictures and tell me what you see
I don’t want you to hypothesize, analyze or criticize
forget about the couch and of course forget about me
Just stare at what I show you and describe what you see with your own two eyes”
Now in this first one describe what you decipher please
Simply stare straight ahead at what I show you
“okay doc, I see your wife with the mailman and she’s on her knees
And he’s telling her, in explicit terms, what he wants her to do
by the way doc, is that a picture of your daughter over there?
“well I usually don’t answer my patients queries but yes that’s my lovely young Bess”
Now let’s get back to the Raushack and what you see while making yourself quite clear”
Okay doc, I see me and your lovely Bess as she’s sensuously and hurriedly removing her dress
“and in this picture tell me what you imagine and observe”
Well, I see your mother telling your father to f**k her from behind
“Now let me tell you something mister because you’ve really got a lot of nerve”
Hey, I’m just telling you what I conjured up within my mind
“Okay then, now this is the last picture and thankfully we’re done
Done for the today when your hour ceases to be”
Okay, I see me forcing open your mouth and insert a forty-five caliber gun
So tell me Doctor, surely there can’t be anything wrong with me
© 2011.….:Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
this poem was written by a 63 year old man who have buried seven pshychiatrists who provided me with what i needed to reach 63,if i was careful
Post Comment
Author: Unknown
I AM WILLING TO BET THAT THE POPE KNOWS HOW TO COPE
SANS USING DOPE
The truth is I can no longer cope
And no one will throw me a rope
Nor will they give me a modicum of hope
And they know I don’t believe in saints, angels or the Pope
Ain’t no saint going to come and pluck me from desperation
And that mythical spirit would know that I’m soaked in perspiration
If there are no angels then can Heaven be real?
Because if it is, and it’s nice, I’m willing to negotiate and/or deal
Ain’t no savior going to bring me to Mt. Zion to pray
No one is going to arrive and save the day
If I am forced to I will find a way to do what needs to be done
And for sure is it hasn’t been easy for my father to have me as a son
In order to sum things up without being verbose but succinct
I need a couple of years to rest, relax and think\
Alas too soon I’ll be running to a needle and dope
And I’m not asking to be Pope I simply need the means to cope
© 2001.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
SAVIOR YEAH MY SAVIOR COMES IN GLASSINE ENVELOPES FOR TEN BUX A POP ON MARTIN LUTHER KING BLVD...THAT'S NO INSULT...EVEN THE GENIUS CHRIS ROCK SAID "IF YOU GET TO A NEW HOOD AND DON'T NO NOWHERE TO COP CRACK JUST GO TO THE NEAREST MARTIN LUTER KING BLVD.s IN EVERY CITY, TOWN OR PLANET
Post Comment
Author: Unknown
melancholy baby
ON SPIRITS, SAINTS AND SPITTOONS
If you want to love me but find yourself unable
If that is buried deep within you about me
First of all don’t put a setting for me at the table
And for Christ’s sake, just take back the key
This whole palace is your’s and your’s alone
Bedrooms with pink sheets AND a comforter to match
And when I’m gone and you know it’s me don’t pick up the phone
Lock the windows, lock the door, and double check the latch
I see love in your eyes but surrender in your voice
It seems you’ve succumbed to a wish you hold in your heart
I must admit, knowing myself as I do you are given very little choice
Just make certain to do all the things you need to whenever I depart
I’m a spirit of spittoons and a Saint of outhouses and such
While you’ve two cars, one you don’t drive, and are oh so very rich
I remember the first time you said ‘I need your gentle touch’
But now I can opine that you’re father’s a coward and probably bends over for the b*tch
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
i can't tell you right now....a rich lady with blinders on is outside honking me to come down...i'll tell you some other time
Post Comment
Author: Unknown
THE THIRD WORLD WEEPS FIRST
The other day I was perplexed so I pondered and reckoned
It occurred to me that the Third World always comes second
The other night I came to the conclusion that what’s really the worst
Is that the Industrial Nations always come first
Hey, it’s more important for Mr. Important to get his T-Bone steak
Then to look at youthful skin and bones that cause my heart to break
I hear all the pleas for donations from various organizations
But why would anyone collect money for what they deem irrelevant nations?
We’ve got our own problems here to reflect and repair
So forget those hungry mothers whose breasts have no milk to share
Simply make sure Mr. Important is comfy with Tammy his assistant bent over a plush leather chair
And Mrs. Important knows about Tammy and approves as long as she gets gems she deems rare
Well fair it ain’t and I can tell you why in ways by the score
Because no matter how our economic stimulus is all Americans want is more
More of what Mr. Moore has more of him, then him and one lovely daughter
But does anyone realize that billions of people on this planet are drinking stagnant and parasitic water?***
So this may only be conjecture but I heard some gentleman saying something
Something about he bought his wife a flawless six carat diamond ring
S**t, sell that ring and feed……. House…… and clothes billions of people and let them praise the rich
Or instead purchase a new Ferrari, Lamborghini or Excalibur for your dyed platinum blonde b***h
©2011.…..Phreepoetree
If you have the time and the inclination to do so….Google “Water Charity,” and see how profoundly easily you can change one person’s life for a very long time…..Peace out….~free!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
BECAUSE THOSE PEOPLE NEED A HUG
Post Comment
Author: Unknown
A VIEW FROM BEYOND THE BLUE
I hate to see the world this way
Everything seems like an aimless gray
Over there used to be a cow Pasteur all blazingly green
Now it’s just another iron and concrete scene
Building icons construct latter day dinosaurs against our iconoclastic wishes
So I think for two months a winged angel should do the dishes
Because even angels have duties to perform
And some of them even do it far above norm
But my angel and I look down and cry for a society’s pretense
Weeping for the fools without angels nor sense
Sometimes she says if I want to go down it’s okay
But it’s easy to see in angelic eyes that she prays i stay
There is no way in the world I would return to your world gone awry
I’ll just stay in the breath of white clouds and fantasy’s fog until I die
Because ain’t no reason for me to return except Raggae and rum
And get the valet to pull around our car, but not Jake, he’s too dumb
And you all can do me a favor and entertain me while I look down
I want to see every fool, every bigot and everyone I deem a morose clown
So I’ll just remain up here with my angelic life that keeps me calm
While my angel and I have a wager on when someone will release a nuclear bomb
© 2011.…free poetry ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
I HOPE THAT ANGEL USES SOMETHING FOR THE DISH DETERGENT THAT WILL MAKE HER HANDS FEEL ANGELICALLY SOFT..OH WAIT..THEY ALREADY ARE
Post Comment
Author: Unknown
I WILL NOT DANCE BECAUSE IT’S THE SAME OLD SONG
Walk a high wire
Walk on the third rail
Walk on fire
And I’ll explain all this with one short tale
I thought for sure it wouldn’t get me
I would get it and I got it for sure
You wouldn’t recognize me if you met me
Because I’ve the wounds of a disease no one can cure
There’s about ten thousand things I’d rather do
Then to find and lose a lovely lady like you
I’d rather be caged with a tiger in the zoo
As slowly my disease progressed and grew
So here sit I on the subway steps a victim of what I sought
Never did I think this could happen to me and hurt so very many
Then by a thin tiny needle was I trapped and thusly caught
And no one would believe my story if I revealed my thoughts for a penny
If it was worth any money I’d throttle and choke a cute little rabbit
And when I see an old lady with a diamond I nab it
If a man in a wheel chair is counting his cash I just grab it
Because these are the things a diseased man does every day to sustain his dope habit
Being caught in a bear trap
Watch my brother die and I not care
Find hell with a map
But kick a habit like this I do not dare
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
i ain't got time.....the b*tch who owns the Lexus and is treating me to a steak dinner is honking like crazy byyyyeeeee!
Post Comment
Author: Unknown
ABRAHAM, SOLOMON AND YOU
If there were an entrance fee to get into Heaven how much would you pay?
And let me tell you brother, it won’t help you now to pray
So you get to Heaven with 56,000 bucks and St. Peter looks at you in scorn
Sorry sir, but The minimum cover charge is the life of your first born
If there were something difficult to do to become Heaven bound?
And you must decide soon before you’re fodder for the ground
Would you sneak up on an old lady and strike her about the head?
Now keep in mind, this is the deal when destiny deems you dead
If the only way you could get into Heaven meant your pretty daughter’s death
Would you cast away your daughter’s life and give a stranger her breath?
What if the cost of Heaven turned out to be the life of your younger brother,
And after your brother bleeds out you must then slay thy mother?
God tempted Abraham on a mount with his son’s death in his hand
And Solomon, when he said he’d split the babe in half, no one could understand
So my brother, to Hell is where you are bound lest thee come up with an answer
“Yo Saint Pete, how about we get rid of the boss and give God colon cancer”
© 2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
well, i always do things only half correct so i'll probably die of semi-colon cancer
Post Comment
Author: Unknown
FED ON SURVIVAL
Not one junkie I know has a test kit for purity
But I can tell you this much with surety
Although we should all be grateful for survival
I’d rather be declared dead on arrival
Frankly I’ve had enough of never being certain
And I begged the stagehand to bring down the curtain
An addict yearns for quality and a cloud like dream
But Then I awake in a hospital and begin to scream
I scream for the friends I’ve lost who were never revived
Shoot, I haven’t even a clue how I have survived
Every day I’m a pearl in peril on a random roulette wheel
Never knowing if I’ll O.D after I consume my last meal
So next time anyone sees me in the gutter simply leave me there
Because I can tell you this much and I’ll make it clear
I’ve never given a damn about religion or the Holy Bible
But I swear on it, please, this time let me be declared dead on arrival
© 2011 Poefree
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
WOULDN'T IT BE FUNNY IF A PERSON ALMOST DYING IS IN AN AMBULANE AND THE AMBULANCE DRIVER HAD A HEART ATTACK?
AND TO NUMBER ONE, SEE, YOU NEED A GOOD SUBJECT MATTER, NOT JUST WORDS STRUNG TOGETHER IMPROPERLY AND FOR NIL!
Post Comment
Author: Unknown
BORN BLIND TO THE UNICURSE
Please advise me when I can open my eyes
Until then closed shall they be
I’m blinded and deafened to any lies
As angry grows the sea
I refuse to see the sadness I’ve seen
I won’t look at the ugliness mankind can’t deny
So give me a Jack with a beer back and a bit of Grenadine
As angry grows the sky
Were I to open mine eyes as of now I know what I’d see
I’d see the same waste and an eight year old kid with a gun
So why would I want to see the greedy, the needy and junkies like me?
As angry grows the sun
‘tis wrong to see what we’ve done to the earth
And now living on this planet has become a caustic curse
Our society is a monument to the death of merriment and mirth
As angry grows the universe
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
WHATEVER HAPPENED TO "MALTINE" WASN'T THAT THE LITTLE OBJECT KID SAID STUPH IN?
Post Comment
Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them.
They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent.
© Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
This is a list of poems submitted by CS members. Click 'Details' tab to see all poems, or click on a poem title to view and comment on individual poems. Click headings to sort by comments or views.
Would YOU like to post a poem in the Poet's Corner? Have you written poetry that you'd like to share with other members? Posting your poetry shows your skill and creativity and helps members get to know you better. Your poem will appear on the Connecting Singles Poetry page and also in a link on your profile page.
Click here to publish your poetry »