TPF-4-TPF - The Poetry Fix for The Photo Forum (Potentially NSFW)

Minnesota Weather

A cold northern wind
blows my hair
I wrap my jacket
tightly around me
shivering from the cold
I look at the trees
the awesome colors of fall
Another burst of wind
picks the leaves off the trees
covers branches with
snow-breath rising
from inside my mouth
hanging visible for
a few seconds in the air
I see children playing with sleds
Another wind blows; this time a little warmer
I hear snow melting see water
dripping birds
back from vacation
sing and dance
in the sky and trees
nature sits
colors the grass the deepest green again
Snow has left the trees
leaves have taken their place
children play outside
glad for a break from school
In Northern Minnesota
spring and summer
don't last very long
and
so
A cold northern wind
blows my hair
I wrap my jacket tightly around me
shivering from the cold
 
I Sign Your Paycheck (NSFW!!)
This is one of my dark poems, do not read if you are easily offended because this boss takes sexual harassment to a whole new depth.

Did you see me last night as you undressed?
I peeked through your window.
You have been on my mind lately.
A lot.
I see you at work almost everyday.
I wonder if you even notice me.
When I go home, its your face I see.
Pictures I’ve taken surround my room.
I hold candle vigils all day long.
Whether I’m there or not.
I followed you to and through that store yesterday.
You bought some milk, cotton swabs and tampons.
I guess I will wait longer to take what is mine.
But your blood does turn me on.
I dug through your garbage last month.
Took all those old tampons.
They meant nothing to you, just garbage.
But to me they mean everything.
I glue them next to each picture I’ve taken.
So I can smell you as I look at you.
It helps with my problem.
I called your mom last night and talked for an hour.
She’s a wonderful woman.
How I wish she had been my mom.
My mother was a drug addict prostitute.
Died when I was seven.
My father was a drug addict prostitute.
Died when I was eleven.
I forged on ahead in life.
And now here I am.
Waiting for you to come to me.
Where we belong, together.
Don’t pretend you don’t need me.
I sign your paycheck.
 
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This poem was written as a response to a challenge at a poetry forum I'm a member of. The challenge was to write a creative piece about our first name.

So They Say I'm Craig

I was born into this life without pants,
Not given the decency of half a chance.

If kindly I had been asked to stay,
I would have replied with a staunch "No way!"

But as this story unfolds you'll see,
Being a Craig pretty much suits me.

A Craig is one who dwells on a crag,
A crag is not fun, its more of a drag.

Being alone on top of a hill,
Is fine with me but still.

If there were two, it'd be more fun,
After-all, two Craigs are better than none.
 
Some interesting stuff, Craig! I had started a poetry thread a while ago... about a year ago or so. Can't find it now...

I didn't make mine NSFW though... although I could have, lol!

I knew that some of my work is NSFW so I had better mark it as such. "Interesting" is a polite term if not a tad bit of an understatement. Thank you for reading! I can't wait to see others contribute.
 
Dedicated to my father who passed away unexpectedly at the age of 54 in 2009. He did not have any terminal disease as far as anyone knows (outside of life that is, the one thing everyone dies from).

Motorcycles Are Fun (Acrostic)

My father and I
On his motorcycle riding
Through the rain
Or
Riding through the wind
Carrying nothing but our love for the road
Yet
Can anyone who has ever
Lived
Ever
See

Anything but the road while
Riding
Every day

Forging a biker’s
Utopia?
Never!
 
Paycheck is a bit odd, Craig.. even for me! lol! but I can dig it....
 
Not a poem but something to think about none-the-less.

What is the leading cause of divorce in the world?




















Marriage!
 
This piece may not seem to be NSFW but trust me that it is. With this piece, I have coined the term for something that may be an actual fetish. With all the other types out there, I'm sure there must be people who are into this as well.

Ketchup Pot Pie (Limerick)

I once knew of these guys
That liked to eat french fries
By sticking them in and
While up to their chin in
Some lovely ketchup pot pies
 
Paycheck is a bit odd, Craig.. even for me! lol! but I can dig it....

A bit? Ha! That's probably up there with the sickest of the sick. That's a silly hobby of mine. The creation of writing that should never be written due to it's sickness and needlessness.
 
Paycheck is a bit odd, Craig.. even for me! lol! but I can dig it....

A bit? Ha! That's probably up there with the sickest of the sick. That's a silly hobby of mine. The creation of writing that should never be written due to it's sickness and needlessness.

I was understating.. definitely! That one is almost scary...
 
This is a short metal song I wrote and also happens to have a disturbing theme to it.

Dead Desires
Dedicated to millions of dead waiting for love

Danny found a body
Withered and old
Took it from the spot
That seemed so cold
A fleeting moment
And he was gone
He warmed it up
With nothing on
Danny tasted the flesh
That might have been
Kissed the lips
That were heaven sent
Now he's done
Just another corpse
It must feel cheap
Dirty and rotted forever more
 
Continuing on with the dark theme, here is a sick little number titled:

Counting to Death

One-two-three-four,
Spilled your blood upon the floor;
Five-six-seven-eight,
Used your kidneys to masturbate;
Nine-ten-eleven-twelve,
Your churches will sound funeral bells;
Twelve-eleven-ten-nine,
On your chest cavities, I did dine;
Eight-seven-six-five,
None of you were left alive;
Four-three-two-one,
With your deaths, my will be done…
 
Last one for now.

Dead and Alone

On a night like tonight, all dark and alone,
I sent my kids out for a little trick or treat.
I told them to look both ways before crossing the street,
And to avoid the places that had no lights on at home.

Three years ago to this very day,
My wife left all of us, cancer was to blame.
I wept and I cried but I took a stand,
To be the kind of father that only a man can.

Hours had passed and they had not come back,
I phoned the police, they were on their way.
Why didn’t I go with them, give my work some slack,
We could have had fun and they wouldn’t have strayed.

The police were there, they had questions galore,
I answered them all but still they wanted more.
I told them nothing’s in the basement, this I swear,
But still they found the bodies buried under the stairs.

They finally got me, the jig was up,
For what I had done is sick in most eyes.
But since my wife died, we’ve had nothing but bad luck,
So I did what was necessary to stifle their cries.

While in prison, they did not let me out,
For the funeral which I had brought about.
But I know what was written on those headstones,
Here lies a child, dead and alone.
 
Do you know why divorce is so expensive?? Cause its worth it!!!

Not a poem but something to think about none-the-less.

What is the leading cause of divorce in the world?




















Marriage!
 
Another from the train tracks when I was homeless and had nothing better to do so Drex Count my mispelling and bad grammer again!! haha


Last train to heaven::::

Well the hobos have filled the frieght yard
theres a line five miles or more
they know that this is their last ride
their getting off at heavens door

Theres no need to grab any water
and no need to pack up your bags
there will be a tailor there waiting for you
he will fit you in brand new rags

There will be no more waiting in line
cause heaven has good food galore
So go fill up your bellies my friend
The Lord says theres plenty more

We know God has a place for us
and we'll not slip in societies cracks
And I'll have my place for eternity
In my little mansion down by the tracks...

Written on a train bound for nowhere coming from nowhere.....
 
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