Archive for the ‘Fun Poetry’ Category

Another poem by fictional character and pseudonym Alexander Silver


This is just another story
Another chance to say you’re sorry
And to pretend that you don’t know
All that I’m talking about right now.

You’re so beautiful in your very own way
I love the way that your eyebrows strain
Every time that you’re happy, every time that you’re mad
I love you when you’re smiling, love you when you’re sad.

This is just another tale
And it will follow you just like a tail
You can pretend that you don’t recur
But it can only be for so long so obscure.

You’re as sexy hip as you have always been
I love the way you dance, the way you sing
Every time that you’re happy, every time that you’re sad
I love you even when you’re lonely, when you’ve been bad.

This state in your life seems like an energy vacuum
Talk about sudden appraisal, and self-absorption
I can tell it by the way you slide, the way you hum
It’s uncanny the way you find yourself under such conception.



Automatic Magnets

Sexual beings doing sexual things when their mood is on
Well, all these things can be fun when you push all the right buttons
The core of the eyes are wired to the electric impulses
A word or a move; a reaction towards the reactor: automatic magnets.

There’s something “evil” about the way we desire it all
A storm in our hormones, our animal instincts have needs as well
Nothing scientifically logic when all you want is to feel…
Your skin upon somebody else’s skin; the best rush of dopamine.

Nothing is forever, might as well take the chance present at the moment
Tomorrow is for regrets, it always has been, especially in matters of the heart
Whether you do this for the feelings contained, or the urge in your dermis
Take your chance to make your hugest mistake or obtain your biggest reward.

Fabulous-Living-Room2The picture is from Google. I edited some details.


When did I become a curtain that shades you off from the rays of the sun?
All this time I was envisaging as being a lamp whose task was brighten you on
Might as well be household furniture, then at least your ass would sit on my lap
Sounds funny, but in my eloquence slur words and phrases are best kept unwrapped.
Should we begin the countdown? Should we change these facts?
Should I start bursting cursing verbs in verses? Would you like that?

I wouldn’t rely on such childish methods
But it’s like you’re playing Play-Doh with my heart again
So mold this clay to form the shape you’d like to display
Whatever the colors might be, at the end of the day,
When you mix them all, they always turn to bullshit brown.

So in great respect about the aspect of my self-inferred humble reflection,
I never meant to be that sour foam in your drink that you skew when in consumption.
My tendency is to taste my own blood before being in any way opinionated
But man, my skin is itching and is like ants are moving my jaw, forming a speech pattern.
So my apologies if what you hear isn’t exactly what you expected.
Who would’ve thought that small creatures would use me as their puppet?

Although it feels good to expel pressure
Your “Holy-Mary-ears” should never ever hear such atrocity
So excuse me as I count down all of the victims in this casualty
One, two, to one and two, seems like us both, a pair
But soon it’ll be just you, cause you’re helping me to disappear.

This is a poem. Before reading, you must know that all the things written here are purely artistic expressions of the mind’s fantasies. I don’t believe and don’t rely in violence towards women, or anyone. Thank you.


A Mother’s Prudent Wish

Girl, you show up like a goose seeing red
Assaulting all of those who are trying to feed off their pieces of bread
You’re wrecking my picnic, scaring my kids
You better back off before I start relying on my punches and my kicks.

The bearer of my life always told me;
“Never ever hit a female.
No matter what the circumstances are
Never result to violence;
Except when she threatens your family,
Then slap around that bitch”
I’m not vehement, I’m just ascertaining
My mother’s prudent wish.

Girl, you’re like a spawn, vetoed from hell
Swarming all the way into the finer veins of these pugnacious intents
Your blood begins to boil, your skin to swell
We abide in awe at all of your rambling, your deleterious contingence.

Your tongue must be conjoined to your menstrual stillness
I’m not one to minimize others, but you’re an impeccable example of a cliché
So I must sojourn my tongue before it becomes an illness;
A continual codependency on the right side cerebrum’s verbal impugns’ soufflé.

FPO2015 (First Poem of 2015)

I know that my love might seem childish
I know that my love might seem infantile
But when you mix this insanity of mine
With my twisted sense of humor, love
You get what you get
And what you get, is me.

I know that my dreams might seem like drags
I know that my faith might look like scheming
But I was born in an age when laughing
Screaming, and making love were one thing
It is what it is
And what it is, is me.

Sometimes I wonder, when I look at the sky;
“Why would birds fly against the wind?”
“Why would they persist against all odds?”
You feed them a bit of bread and they’re all around.

If love was simpler, wouldn’t it be boring?
Don’t you want a piece of excitement?
Let that spontaneity take control
Be surprised, expect the unexpected.