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I S A A C May 2022
glue down the edges of the wig
over line everything that is too small
hide everything that is too big
dress myself up like a doll
prance around like a drunken mess
dance around to try and make rent
****** you would think
on the brink you would think
but after the drink and the spotlight
i have no doubt in my mind, this is life
they call me many names, a man of many faiths
or faces but never peep any laces
corset underneath this slip dress
another j to smoke away stress
pennies never my worries
i will be provided for surely
i am doing my work, my work is doing me
i dont know who is in control
is it her, him, he
is it I that takes the lead
after everything is off, the mirror doesn’t notice me
wondering who will ever notice me
Renie Simone Feb 2021
Dear, Pa –
it’s your once-son
Danny – or better known
as Sandy, or Annie or;
Ann-Marie and to some
folks on 19th Street,
I’m known as a sinner, a ******!
My life is a movie, like
a catwalk model; and
I play a very special person, who’s got
no-one to lean on, no mommy to hold, and;
Wait, I know her. She’s familiar to me like,
I’ve known her since the beginning of time, but
right now, in physical form, she stands
in front of me in the;
mirror, Pa. Yes, I am her reflection, no
I mean she’s my reflection and I realize
that; all along, this whole time, I told myself
a big-fat lie; as a child, hatred and anger
were the tears I cried. So –
this one’s for you, my king,
my liege; this one’s the promise
that we’ll keep; this one’s the bond
between our sheets; but this one’s the
one that’ll point at you; before I lift
the middle one, to say, “***** You!”
But hey, Pa – here I am. A
woman, not a man. A bonafide,
sophisticated lady in minx
with, real diamond earrings and
fierce wings; those nails, my nose
and my lips – make me feel like I’ve
power at my fingertips.
Tonight is my show – it’s my time
to shine. And I’m going to **** it
like I know I can – so thank you Pa,
and thank you, ma’am. For giving
me the strength to be who I am.
Brief Explanation: This is an ekphrastic poem which was inspired by a particular photoshoot of Himmel Reyes, of which I unfortunately can't seem to source. This is a fictitious response to some darker sides of the glamorous life.
Just tryin to contain my emotion,
but running around in circles, i got some kind of problem, but not sure how to contain.
They say i think to much, but the chemicals in my brain are like a house that hold you hostage to watch me cry.
Got whispers softly through the wind in my ears, just tryin to contain, contain my emotions.
Oh it's ok, but really it's not, getting worried over everything i see or do, but i just cant contain this anxiety.
Pushing and pulling through.
Just tryin to contain these thoughts that burden my darkness.
Wanting to die by a river, so the tide can drag me away, when im dreamin i can watch the lines fade away.
Ileana Amara May 2020
this is a poem of treasured nostalgia;
when Fate wrote what we were supposed to be,
there was rain pouring down hard
two young souls slow dancing in the dark,
his eyes was a mesmerizing art,
his arms were my home, his hand was my guide,
gently tugging me along with my heart
held upon by his other hand,
I held on tightly, enthralled
and yet I breathe exhausted.
I could only last for so long until I ask for my heart back,
all the love for myself drains, running my soul into a drag race
"Where are we heading?" I asked, we're all heading to finish line
"What then if we do?" I asked, and I answered before he could,
we both loved, both break, both hurt, and both end by then,
the scenery blurs,
the time slows down
my breathing begins to even,
our hands so tightly clasped loosened,
I took my heart with grief, anxiety, and fear
even before I could know what the finish line could be.

IA
English Jam Mar 2019
I claw out of the grave like the phoenix
And for my 15 minute lifetime
I burn like the sun, the gas lamp, California, the Holocaust
Before fizzling out again
I live to die  

I awaken on the production line
I breathe in the ash pouring from the apocalyptic clouds
Disappointed, I turn to my grey sarcophagus
The faceless, factory-made, invisible-as-Kether generation
Buried in the grocery store pyramid

Like Goya's dog, I peer blindly, so tiny
Upwards, into the infinite nothing that awaits
The afterlife, the void, Abraham's *****
Death, limbo, desolation row
The nihilistic emptiness from which I rise
Poetic T Feb 2020
If I'm  the drag would you be

                                          my queen?


Yes I maybe a bit of a drama queen,

    but we know

who sits on the throne..

I took more time on my hair,
         than you did on your make up.

But you know that all my time is  yours.

I may be a drag,
but we know who hold the title of beauty.

    I'm just the ***** and your the lady,

              be my woman and ill always love you.

And I'll never drag you down,


                                           but lift you higher up.
mjad Jul 2019
My heart was left splattered
The room has been left untouched
Blood has dried on the walls around me
But he walks around scraping it off
My body quivers in fear
His nails drag on the surface
But his eyes stay on me
White paint peaks through
I feel like I'm about to puke
Taking the broom he sweeps
My broken heart right to me
As if his cleaning was helping me
He forgot and forgave, and I was not ready for that mental cleansing yet
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
Hope is shrinking
Light is dimming
Walls are caving in
and everything seems to diffusing into blue.

It's all heavy and dark
draining and enveloping.

And all I want to do is put a pause on life
to make everything stop moving on
dragging me along with it
as the abyss is plunging me
in like a dark hole.
Laokos Jul 2019
"what, you're too good to say 'good morning' to me?"
     she asks me as she slumps through
     the front doors of work.

"no."
     I say,
"you didn't hear me say it back?"
     . . . she didn't.

some people try
     to drag everything
into their own collapsing
     star.

     but I brush it off and
               walk away, successfully
          escaping her gravitational
               pull.

later, minding my own
     ****-stick, she fires another
     shot,
     "you sure have a chip on your shoulder today,  I'm staying out
     of your way!"

this time I don't
even acknowledge
                         her **** bird trying
                         to land on me,
                                                  just smile right
                                                  through her.





I turn my
head to
look
outside.  

the smeared
clouds are
rippling in
a smooth cadence
of anticipation.  



a storm is coming . . .
it's gonna be a good one.
Arisa Apr 2019
I wanna eat something
but it won't fill me up
only drag me down.
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