Poetry competition CLOSED 12th March 2015 10:33pm
WINNER
J_J_Jay_Jr
J_J_Jay_Jr
RUNNER-UP:
toniscales
tell me
Poetry Contest Description
tell me all
tell me all that you have done that you shouldn't have. tell me the dirty deeds that you are secretly proud of. did you drug your boss, screw your brothers friend maybe your step dad. tell the dirty little secrets.
Anonymous
Da secrytt summher revealed
Once upponna tyme eye wuz visitin' da gyrl next dore.
Sum folks cawed her a whoore butt eye wuzint convynced sew eye went uh callin'.
Eye axed her fore sum shugar und she gave me da hole bowl.
Damm she wuz sahwheat.
She beet mai meet ryte onda kicheon kounther.
Eye never tole know wun 'bout itt until eye wroate dis poeum.
Wee dyd uther tings dat hole summher.
We phucked alott.
She tawt me how tew eat an oystirr witout uh krackher.
Eye reelee don't theenk she wuzza whoore.
Eye just theenk she liked sexx wit evrybodee und teechin' mee how tew eat her oystirr.
Once upponna tyme eye wuz visitin' da gyrl next dore.
Sum folks cawed her a whoore butt eye wuzint convynced sew eye went uh callin'.
Eye axed her fore sum shugar und she gave me da hole bowl.
Damm she wuz sahwheat.
She beet mai meet ryte onda kicheon kounther.
Eye never tole know wun 'bout itt until eye wroate dis poeum.
Wee dyd uther tings dat hole summher.
We phucked alott.
She tawt me how tew eat an oystirr witout uh krackher.
Eye reelee don't theenk she wuzza whoore.
Eye just theenk she liked sexx wit evrybodee und teechin' mee how tew eat her oystirr.
That's A No No, You Ho Ho
I ain't tellin you shit
you's a bitch, you's a snitch
trying to get the info on my genius skills
rather tell a rat where the cheese is
than tell you about my secret Jesus
you must be smarter than that, you hussy
you smoke a bag a day and you too fussy
until you sucking it hard down your throat
you are not even close to being a poet
you bathe with butter then roll around in corn flakes
you's a cheap trick and you's a fake
the only paper you chase is paper plates
now silence thy unpleasant treachery
I ain't tellin you shit, you're the toilet paper
I wipe my ass with
I ain't tellin you shit
you's a bitch, you's a snitch
trying to get the info on my genius skills
rather tell a rat where the cheese is
than tell you about my secret Jesus
you must be smarter than that, you hussy
you smoke a bag a day and you too fussy
until you sucking it hard down your throat
you are not even close to being a poet
you bathe with butter then roll around in corn flakes
you's a cheap trick and you's a fake
the only paper you chase is paper plates
now silence thy unpleasant treachery
I ain't tellin you shit, you're the toilet paper
I wipe my ass with
HELL'S FREEZEWAY
The greatest sins I've ever committed
Was when I was my most self righteous
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions
And is made slipper when covered with pious ice
So in my old age here is my advice
Never let dogma define what's right
The greatest sins I've ever committed
Was when I was my most self righteous
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions
And is made slipper when covered with pious ice
So in my old age here is my advice
Never let dogma define what's right
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
I'll tell you
I'll tell you what you were.
You were a notch on my bed post,
locker room bragging rights.
You were a cunt to receive my dick,
a receiver of my wet dream's emissions.
You were a blonde to follow the redhead,
not as good as the brunet.
You were way too short, barely up to my chin,
not fun size at all.
Your boobs were so small, most boys have more,
couldn't fill a training bra.
You were skinny, arms bony and legs gangly,
all skeletal angles and points.
You were a slippery mouth with a wet double jointed tongue,
that swallowed my cum.
Your mop head's hair, never combed, much less fixed,
made good handles to hold your mouth around my cock.
Your eyes were out of a cartoon, shadowed like a raccoon,
one green and one blue.
Your fingers were anorexic, without the grip of a noodle,
barely good to stroke me before I entered you.
Your ass was something to grip with my hands,
as I unload my cum inside you.
That's why I ignored you when I was with my guys.
So why did it shatter my heart, cause me to sink to my knees,
and wish I could die?
When you walked out of my life, with a tear in your eye,
and whispered over your shoulder,
"I loved you."
I'll tell you what you were.
You were a notch on my bed post,
locker room bragging rights.
You were a cunt to receive my dick,
a receiver of my wet dream's emissions.
You were a blonde to follow the redhead,
not as good as the brunet.
You were way too short, barely up to my chin,
not fun size at all.
Your boobs were so small, most boys have more,
couldn't fill a training bra.
You were skinny, arms bony and legs gangly,
all skeletal angles and points.
You were a slippery mouth with a wet double jointed tongue,
that swallowed my cum.
Your mop head's hair, never combed, much less fixed,
made good handles to hold your mouth around my cock.
Your eyes were out of a cartoon, shadowed like a raccoon,
one green and one blue.
Your fingers were anorexic, without the grip of a noodle,
barely good to stroke me before I entered you.
Your ass was something to grip with my hands,
as I unload my cum inside you.
That's why I ignored you when I was with my guys.
So why did it shatter my heart, cause me to sink to my knees,
and wish I could die?
When you walked out of my life, with a tear in your eye,
and whispered over your shoulder,
"I loved you."
BoFantastic said:That's A No No, You Ho Ho
I ain't tellin you shit
you's a bitch, you's a snitch
trying to get the info on my genius skills
rather tell a rat where the cheese is
than tell you about my secret Jesus
you must be smarter than that, you hussy
you smoke a bag a day and you too fussy
until you sucking it hard down your throat
you are not even close to being a poet
you bathe with butter then roll around in corn flakes
you's a cheap trick and you's a fake
the only paper you chase is paper plates
now silence thy unpleasant treachery
I ain't tellin you shit, you're the toilet paper
I wipe my ass with
I am not a moderator, but if you don't want to participate and share your secrets, then gtfo. I would expect an insecure child to post this kind of immature garbage. If you could, please don't leave a trial of your filth all over this site... thaannks...
I ain't tellin you shit
you's a bitch, you's a snitch
trying to get the info on my genius skills
rather tell a rat where the cheese is
than tell you about my secret Jesus
you must be smarter than that, you hussy
you smoke a bag a day and you too fussy
until you sucking it hard down your throat
you are not even close to being a poet
you bathe with butter then roll around in corn flakes
you's a cheap trick and you's a fake
the only paper you chase is paper plates
now silence thy unpleasant treachery
I ain't tellin you shit, you're the toilet paper
I wipe my ass with
I am not a moderator, but if you don't want to participate and share your secrets, then gtfo. I would expect an insecure child to post this kind of immature garbage. If you could, please don't leave a trial of your filth all over this site... thaannks...
It appears I killed this competition,
So I'll bring it back with this transmission,
Listen I have fucked up,
Took too many drugs one night for fun,
went out to the club with some friends,
one couldn't handle the trip,
a psychotic break I'd never seen,
He repeatedly screamed,
His girlfriend cried and looked to me,
It was so bad I had to call the police,
He was out in the middle of the street,
speaking loudly to something no one could see,
A party city I'm sure they have seen this before,
But I still can't believe the cops let him leave in our custody,
Afterwards we could barely get him in the back seat,
But I couldn't endure him repeating none-sense,
I had options so I retreated quickly after the scene,
I still cant believe what this all means,
He must have had sweet dreams,
Cuz he woke up and couldn't remember a thing,
So I'll bring it back with this transmission,
Listen I have fucked up,
Took too many drugs one night for fun,
went out to the club with some friends,
one couldn't handle the trip,
a psychotic break I'd never seen,
He repeatedly screamed,
His girlfriend cried and looked to me,
It was so bad I had to call the police,
He was out in the middle of the street,
speaking loudly to something no one could see,
A party city I'm sure they have seen this before,
But I still can't believe the cops let him leave in our custody,
Afterwards we could barely get him in the back seat,
But I couldn't endure him repeating none-sense,
I had options so I retreated quickly after the scene,
I still cant believe what this all means,
He must have had sweet dreams,
Cuz he woke up and couldn't remember a thing,
What Daddy Doesn't Know...
You know what they all say, about the preachers daughter...
Trouble, mischievous and even a bit promiscuous is her name...
But I was that sweet lil innocent thing, always did what I was told...
Then after being ripped, tattered and torn I didn't care anymore...
I found myself, in the bars late at night dancing and singing the blues...
Downing drinks like water, I found my favorite friends falling at my feet...
I danced an illusion, paid to be entertaining...
Sweet lil smile to match my sweet lil personailty, but I really didn't care....
Dance in the club on Saturdays, sang in the choir on Sunday's, but what daddy didn't know didn't hurt him right...
Daddy always knew, but loved me all the same
By: RFuller 3/10/15
You know what they all say, about the preachers daughter...
Trouble, mischievous and even a bit promiscuous is her name...
But I was that sweet lil innocent thing, always did what I was told...
Then after being ripped, tattered and torn I didn't care anymore...
I found myself, in the bars late at night dancing and singing the blues...
Downing drinks like water, I found my favorite friends falling at my feet...
I danced an illusion, paid to be entertaining...
Sweet lil smile to match my sweet lil personailty, but I really didn't care....
Dance in the club on Saturdays, sang in the choir on Sunday's, but what daddy didn't know didn't hurt him right...
Daddy always knew, but loved me all the same
By: RFuller 3/10/15
Anonymous
Yung luv
Eye gott raypd bye uh 28 year old rapisst when eye wuz forteene.
Eye luvd evry mynitt uv itt.
Eye luvd evry posishinn tew.
69 und 64.
Eye wantdid Moore
butt mee mum sed know.
Wee kept itt uh secrytt frum daddee.
Butt eye nebber foregott.
Eye luv older chikks.
Eye gott raypd bye uh 28 year old rapisst when eye wuz forteene.
Eye luvd evry mynitt uv itt.
Eye luvd evry posishinn tew.
69 und 64.
Eye wantdid Moore
butt mee mum sed know.
Wee kept itt uh secrytt frum daddee.
Butt eye nebber foregott.
Eye luv older chikks.
Too Much Information
My step-dad used to pretend to be affectionate.
But this only started when I turned thirteen.
(Before, he'd only hit me and never embrace me.)
I have vague memories of things that could not
be called molestation. My shrinks always liked
to use the word "harassment." But there were
strange gropings in the night, glances that made
me shiver, etc. There was even one time when
I had fallen asleep on the living room couch
in my pink silk nightgown and I woke up suddenly
and he was holding me and saying "Happy birthday!"
But it wasn't my birthday. Anyways, now I've
got a dirty little secret. I always have dreams
of making love to an old man, and instead of
them being terrifying, they are blissful.
Perhaps the mind appropriates trauma
by learning to find pleasure within its perimeters.
Or maybe I'm just a sick f*ck.
My step-dad used to pretend to be affectionate.
But this only started when I turned thirteen.
(Before, he'd only hit me and never embrace me.)
I have vague memories of things that could not
be called molestation. My shrinks always liked
to use the word "harassment." But there were
strange gropings in the night, glances that made
me shiver, etc. There was even one time when
I had fallen asleep on the living room couch
in my pink silk nightgown and I woke up suddenly
and he was holding me and saying "Happy birthday!"
But it wasn't my birthday. Anyways, now I've
got a dirty little secret. I always have dreams
of making love to an old man, and instead of
them being terrifying, they are blissful.
Perhaps the mind appropriates trauma
by learning to find pleasure within its perimeters.
Or maybe I'm just a sick f*ck.
