Bitter divorce poems

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

My heart is like a raisin
shriveled by your love.
Oh wait, that wasn't love;
that was just you
pretending to be the sun.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I am not the kind
of woman
men fall in love with
madly: No
I am the kind they
slip in and out of
reasonably. And look:
we can still
be friends.

[Payne]

See this car?

50% of it is mine

Where is the chainsaw?

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

 

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

When I found you in my bed
hungering up and down my spine
lost were threads of things I said
and rejection disappeared in wine;
so take me back now to your home
feed me platitudes soft as butter
I remain with you to be alone;
in solitude I shake and stutter.

And when you come to join me here
I hope you find me welcoming
because the truth is hard to bear
love and you still tend to cling
I've tried to shed you off, of course,
but cruelty isn't in my nature
and hurting you has hurt me worse
you are such a vindictive creature.

So while I stay here in your grip
I hope you grant me a smallish favor
don't let your guilty tongue slip
just let me rest in silence to savor
the moment before I pass you up,
go back to my chilly bed without you
reclaim my spine and my empty cup.

[Darth Cupcake]

These are intense, Nigel.

Although the second one made me do that bitter laugh thing.

[Dysnomia]

Needs moar rage though

[Dysnomia]

Haiku

I need to tell you
I cheated, it was with her.
You stupid fuck.  *bang*

Not exactly divorce, but close.   

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

  I like that.

I may be able to come up with some more rage. My obstacle is, in order to write effectively bitter poetry, I have to get drunk as fuck, and since my goal is to be a HOT bitter divorced single mother, I am currently not drinking in order to expedite the diminishment of my gut.

Maybe I will just have to start drinking selectively.

[Triple Zero]

my goal is to be a HOT bitter divorced single mother, I am currently not drinking in order to expedite the diminishment of my gut.

being a healthy + HOT bitter divorced single mother >>> being an alcoholic medium-HOT bitter divorced single mother with liver problems that however can write awesome poems

they are awesome poems btw. they make me all sad and reflecting your bitterness. which makes them good poems in the sense of capturing the emotions, but bad in the sense that they make me a sad zipple 

[Cramulus]

My heart is like a raisin
shriveled by your love.
Oh wait, that wasn't love;
that was just you
pretending to be the sun.

LMFAO

[Dysnomia]

I like that.

I may be able to come up with some more rage. My obstacle is, in order to write effectively bitter poetry, I have to get drunk as fuck, and since my goal is to be a HOT bitter divorced single mother, I am currently not drinking in order to expedite the diminishment of my gut.

Maybe I will just have to start drinking selectively.

HOT! 

feel the rage Nigel, feel it.     Perhaps you could do shots of things, so you consume less, rather than have full blown cocktails, or a beer?

[Darth Cupcake]

I like that.

I may be able to come up with some more rage. My obstacle is, in order to write effectively bitter poetry, I have to get drunk as fuck, and since my goal is to be a HOT bitter divorced single mother, I am currently not drinking in order to expedite the diminishment of my gut.

Maybe I will just have to start drinking selectively.

HOT! 

feel the rage Nigel, feel it.     Perhaps you could do shots of things, so you consume less, rather than have full blown cocktails, or a beer?

I go for the shot choice, or the red wine.

Because a little bit of red wine is good for you.

Also, I agree with the Dutchbag re: the capturing of the emotions.

[Bebek Sincap Ratatosk]

 I saw the gardener yesterday
with rose cuttings all around.
And I thought hard on what to say
of the roses on the ground.
For their beauty seemed the same
as that which he let remain.

The gardener, hearing my deep sighs,
continued pruning for awhile,
"Cut not and the beauty dies."
He spoke with a quiet smile,
"For, I bring just little pains,
to make stronger what remains."

I walked on in a thoughtful pose
and then came upon your form.
Like the clipped and fallen rose.
Your heart seemed cut by his scorn.
But a cut, which clears the way
For blooms in a future day.

[Richter]

To all the poets of this thread: