Invective Poem

I called it invective, but I think it's just poor bashing on a twit twat, less than intelligent rat. Ah, but funny though so read it.

Invective Poem

Oh my gawd, he’s so cute

Would you mind if I refute?

If I disagree, present an inquiry as to why he’s soooo much hotter than me?

As if I suddenly gave a half damn to this sham of a shady ladykiller?

Scuse me ma’am, but the crap spewin from your trap deserves a slap

And though I lack the sack to whack that asinine quack out of your voice

I present you with the choice to shut your pie hole

Before I lose control

That being said, back to the screws loose in your head

Explain to me, plainly and simply

Why a lousy, scatterbrained jerk

Has the tools to make you work and bark like his bitch

It’s a whistle isn’t it?

No, just the hot air of this dimwit

This halfwit, this dumbshit

I admit, perhaps he has nuances that I can’t see

All that’s clear to me is his unending stupidity

Please enlighten me

What part of his body entices thee?

Is it the active tongue that wriggles permanently on his face?

Or the wee bulge that hangs from his special place?

Let us trace the origin of your infatuation

The root of your fascination

To this strange and otherworldly beast?

A small adventure at the very least

I seek to find the reasoning in your mind

That defines this idiosyncratic buffoon

The boon based in your screwy swoon

Let us find it soon because the terrible tune you’re singing

Is causing a ringing in my common sense

I mean the implications are immense

What does it do to my own ego and pride

If a lady like you would opt to be this clown’s bride

I don’t mean to sound snide

While I knowingly do

I’m telling you it’s a mistake, believe me it’s true

There are so many flaws in character to see

If this guy was a mirror I’d see a million of me

The agony and sorrow I feel, when you say you’re serious

That this faux-mance is real

Not a chance

It’s not jealousy you see

I’m talking logically, there are some things that just must never be

Though I speak from my own perspective

I’ve elected to provide my subjective and protective detective skills

To indicate all of his defective ills

There’s the ribald sense of humor to start

The many uncertain impulses in his heart

The scornful suspicions

The lack of cognitions

The apathetic tones

And the cantankerous groans

The sour disposition

The vulgar condition

I’m on a mission to teach you problems you’re missin

It seems that you’re blind

Get your eyes realigned

You don’t want this guy

Please think with your mind

You’ve got a bright future ahead that’s for sure

And if you waited, you’d have so much more

So dump this chump and run away

Whatever’s ahead is a better day

Sound

Inner deep philosophy and mostly just a mish mash of verbal irony. Words.

Sound

Listen… can you hear it?

Amidst the thunder and quakes in your head

Can you dissolve the storm instead?

Listen… she speaks... calm... collected

The traces of an invective loose and free on her tongue

“No, I don’t li-… I can’t... I won’t… go out with you”

Did you hear? The truth trailing behind her as she flees

The breeze that cuts the skin

The air that holds me afloat

The clouds are not under my feet anymore

Listen… the wind speaks softly, mellow and tender

As I surrender myself to it’s embrace

The shadows of a face are erased from my mind

Can you hear? The sound?

As the ground continues to shake

My body aches, the weight dragging me lower

Deeper into void and abyss

Bliss… kiss… it was only a kiss

There was no time stopping, second-to-hour firework popping

I couldn’t hear it… Only the sound of the earth splitting

Fissions, the division of my body from hers

But no, it was me… I moved first

I pulled away

I had not the strength to stay

As my body falls into decay

I lay in the clouds, not on top

I lay in the water particles, storms forming

Electrical fires burning

Sweat, wet, and yet… still alive

Here the air was fresh and I could hear the sound

Not the pounding in my chest,

Not ground writhing in protest

No, I could hear that voice

Not the wind, not the air, and not me

Free… It sounded like being free

Story

Let me regale you all with a story about stories... oh wait no, this is just a poem asking OTHER people for stories... cool beans.

Story

Tell me a story

Something to floor me

Something gory

With details that don’t bore me

Something exciting

That’ll get me writing

Writhing and biting, fighting

Seconds and minutes

To get deeper in it

The tale to end all tales

All the fails and mishaps

Of poor close-minded imaginations

Fabrications of foolish folly

That don’t jolly my jimmies

Get me going

With a real showing

A display of risque word play

Full trays, a buffet of literary entres

Andale and fire away

Silly soliloquies  and sorrowful sonnets

I wanna hear you get on it

Bomb it like D-Day

Don’t be afraid of what you have to say

There’s a ballet of lyrical nonsense

That appeals to my sense

Of creative content

Make a convent

Worship words and wonderful phrases

Praises that ignite people’s pages

Outrages that set stages

And upstages all articles of ancient artistry

Gimme sophistry and mystery

Flabbergasting fantasy

Fathom a fictional fixation that flusters me

Make history

Write a verbal victory

Vast and vainly

Stories are mainly

About the guys who wrote them

Don’t quote them

There’s a fine line between vanity and literacy

Don’t holler if you hear me

Write ‘cause you fear me

Cause I spit fire fiercely

Flowing freely

Can you even really wax poetic

Like my frenetic verses

I’m like a rapper without the curses

I’ll teach you about reverses

Turnabout is fair play

Allow me to arrange an apologetic bouquet

To allay and portray this invective word fray

As an okay way to sway

New lyricists and serious writing spirits

But fearing this is gibberish

I’ll restate and finish this

Feverish flurry of fast flung phrases

Tell me a story that absolutely amazes

Awkward

I always hate to be the guy to kill the mood, but alas I must brood like the angsty teen that I am. Allow me to be the elephant in the metaphorical room with my poetry pieces of doom. (Feel free to shoot me for that one)

Awkward

Awkward

Even the way I say it is awkward

Awkward has a hard name, a hard face

And a difficult place

Sometimes even no place

I’ve known awkward since the day I was born

We were raised together

We lived together

Chances are… we’ll die together

Now I love awkward

More than awkward will ever know

But awkward is difficult

Uncompromising and unwilling

Awkward is afraid

Of learning what it means to be a person

Awkward will try to shelter me from pains that I can’t see

And people that I can’t meet

Awkward holds me

Limp and lifeless in arms that are tender and warm

But quivering and trembling under their own weight

I bear things for awkward

Hoping, that awkward can bear me

But even I can see

That awkward wants me to be free

Awkward wants me to live my own life

Without strife

Without struggle and burden

And even when awkward’s hurtin

I can feel the push
Not away

But toward brighter days and better ways of living

Of existing

While I may always return home to the corner that awkward and I own

I still leave, awkward and all… alone