Justin blackburn
United States
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Other article tools I Learned How To Eat Pussy From A Woman
Predicting the past
From the future
Before I was born
I could feel myself disappear
And never worry
But when I got to earth
Everyone was in a hurry
I barely recognized
Why I had fingerprints.
They gave me a mother
But I realized I could care less about fucking her
They gave me a father
But I never really wanted to be anything like him
So I had to raise myself
While staring at beauty I could not comprehend
I learned how to breathe from fire
I learned how to walk from trees
I learned how to touch from silent fear
I learned how to share from fleas
I learned how to eat pussy from a woman
I learned how to cry from dreams
Now and again I have no clue who or what I am
But I am learning to understand
That it does not really matter
For I am anything I allow myself to be.
I wish everyone a safe travel home.
Justin...
I like your poem.. you might want to consider changing the title
to something like..learning to live.. just a suggestion.. but I
think the title will put many off the read.. of course there are
those like me.. enjoyed the read.. and welcome to Neopoet!
Richard
I learned
? !
Welllllllll…….the
Welllllllll…….the poem’s title got my attention! A sight for sore eyes.. ;-)
And the rest of it was brilliant too. Thank you. Welcome.
~A
Can't say anything
bad about the poem. wasn’t bad. A little far out there, but not bad. As for the title, I am an old fart and not really in love with the title. I thought it was rather unnecessary like the line in the poem. Just your gratuitous sex scene in the poem like they do on TV and the movies. Had noting to do with the integrity of the poem. Otherwise it was quite interesting.
Respectfully,
Rett:
“If life is a bowl of cherries, why am I in the pits?” Erma Bombeck
A great
explanation of your potential future and past’s architecture.
An awareness of possibilities and the absurdness of this absurdness.
An instruction manual for confidence.
A mathematical proof of NO possible right or wrong in this life, as interpreted by Mr. Words.
This sites commentators will try with all their might to water you down.
They will waste their own energy and stifle their own evolution.
Their reluctance to work on themselves through their own writing can be seen in the trite color of the poetry stream. A few beautiful pieces of trash float down it. But you will have to keep your senses wide open to absorb them.
As for your title…. fuck going against your instincts as a creative communicator.
Everyone else will just have to catch up.
Puritan guesses run deep in American veins. So let us inject some new thoughts into the information super bloodways.
Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, tits, farts, turds, and twat!
_Daniel
You forgot dickhead, amoung
You forgot dickhead, amoung a few others. lol. Sequence straight from George Carlin, brilliant-but-dead-potty-mouth-son-of-a-bitch!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3_Nrp7cj_tM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FHW_SdxOarM&feature=related
Bad boys! Love Bukowski…. one in a million.
~A
yes!
keep being you. thank you. you are beautiful!
blimey!
Sorry, just had to check this one out, as I’m sure there was a catch… LOL! The poem is great, but I have to echo the others that many would be offended by the title. I know it’s meant to yoink the reader’s attention, but it also opens you up for a severe tongue-lashing. Cool shades, bro…. very retro! Look forward to more of your work.
~Jess
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“Live every day as if it were your last; one day you’ll be right….”