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Kelsey May 2015
Not that anyone cares
Kelsey cut class again.
Probably out getting high
With her new stupid friends.

Not that anyone cares
But Kelsey likes to break glass.
She writes on the walls
And she’s waiting for the crash.

Not that anyone cares
But Kelsey snuck out her window,
Out to smash mailboxes
And let herself go.

Not that anyone cares
But Kelsey doesn't do well in school
She’s not perfect like them.
No straight A’s for this girl.

Not that anyone cares
No one listens to her, she’s not even there.
So go for it kid get drunk.
Life isn’t fair.

Not that anyone cares
But she’s always on the run.
Stop saying she’s like them
Her life has barely even begun.

Not that anyone cares,
But Kelsey is all alone.
She’s completely her own person.
Not even close to Regan’s clone.

Not that anyone cares,
But Kelsey cries every night.
She has terrible dreams
And just existing is a fight.

And not that you’ll listen
But she hates her life
And you can’t fix her with words.
So don’t waste your time.
Something I scratched down a few years ago when I was feeling a little different than I usually feel these days.
andTilly Nov 2020
Kelsey O’nara
a girl with eyes so green
you find yourself lost in that what could seem
like the green pastures of forever to hold

just say, say her name to call her again
say, say: O’nara, my dearest friend

Kelsey O’nara
a girl of thousand faces
you need to caress her to know how the changes
go through to get, get you through

just say, say her name to learn a few new ways
say, say: O’nara, I loved and I’ll love those days

Kelsey O’nara
a girl of the purest smiles
you’ll want to smile back for her to know that you tried
finding yourself grown over by a warm hug

just say, say her name to feel the calm, calm happy
say, say: O’nara, yourself I just might need

Kelsey O’nara
a girl of the last goodbyes
you don’t know how to say or how to make last
you try anyway since the future is to pass

so say, say her name with a one last bow
say, say: O’nara, take my hand, and let’s go

take my hand, and let’s go
Kelsey O'nara is about many things, but first and foremost about embracing death (death doesn't mean a bad thing to be scraed of, you know) - represented by the beautiful girl Kelsey. This song started out as a poem, and was "songified" later on:

sptfy.com/kelsey-onara

Say: O'nara, sayōnara.

©2020 andtilly.com
(8:20 P.M.)
I'm out my back door
and into the cities
I've got my hat, phone, wallet,
lighter and keys.
It's a short little walk,
the gas stations not far.
I see where they parked,
I enter the car.

(8:30 P.M.)
Kelsey grabs my hand
and looks me in the eye,
she ignores the centipedes
she sees,
or at least she tries,
she then calmly explains
she's out-of-bodied
the entire car ride
and how she's been
counting the stars
even though its not quite night.
She says we're swimming
through the mountains
and climbing up the seas
but from where I'm sitting
we're still in the back seat.
I ask, "Hey, what's she on?"
"I think LSD.
But don't worry, it's cool,
she's dating the guy
throwing this thing."

(8:40 P.M.)
It's a twenty minute ride,
crammed into the Taurus,
but Ashley's in the front,
getting shots poured out for us.
"To a good night!"
We laugh and proclaim,
we down the first drinks
and start the pre-game.
Hennepin then Franklin
then Grand avenue.
We've already got a buzz
now were smokin buds, too.

(9:05 P.M.)
We pull up
just as the suns going down
and as the moon peeks her face
out from under the clouds.
There's already some kid
face down in the grass
some brilliant soul's pulled his pants down
and sharpied his ***.
I guess he shouldn't have passed out
with his shoes still on;
hopefully nobody patrolling
sees him lying in the lawn.

(9:06 P.M.)
The second thing we notice
are the angels on the porch
They've already bent their halos
and lost their wings, of course.
The beautiful brunette
with half her head shaved
turns to welcome us
with a big friendly wave.
With a smile on her face she says,
"Hi! I'm Mel!
Welcome to our party;
welcome to Hell!"
"Where should we put our drinks?"
"Just leave em in your car!
We've got three kegs
and our very own bar!"
We're escorted inside,
in front of at least a hundred people,
and brought to the roof
with a sign that reads Steeple.

(9:20 P.M.)
Jon's tipping a bottle,
just waiting for Kelsey.
He asks her right away,
"Babe, will you marry me?"
She's too far gone
to know what to say,
so he wraps her in a hug
that makes everything okay.
It's clearly a cute joke,
just some little spiel,
but Kels is so high
she thinks that it's real.

(10:30 P.M.)
We all decide its best
if we leave those newly wed
because, to be frank,
there was a lot of PDA going on in their bed.
Mel starts to lead us
down the winding stairs,
by now the broken halo
escaped from her hair.
She said seeing Kels and Jon
made her feel lonely
so she needs another drink
and wants to get to know me.

(11:45 P.M.)
As it turns out
she's a good partner for pong;
but now she wants to sneak off,
to go rip up her ****.
So we take a trip down the hall
and slide through her door.
let me preface this part:
I never expect to score.

(11:50 P.M.)
She gives the lighter a spark.

(11:53 P.M.)
We're making out in the dark.

(12:15 A.M.)
The silence is broken,
we hear someone scream.
We look at each other,
"What the Hell could that mean?"

(12:20 A.M.)
We're scared, so we joke
about what it could be.
The most likely reason?
Something scared the heavens out of Kelsey.
We say she's probably worried
about alien transplants
and the whole entire time
I'm not wearing my pants.

(12:21 A.M.)
"The cops are here!"
I jumped and ran from her bed.
I don't think I'll see those red skinny jeans
ever again.
I manage a quick goodbye
and then I'm into the Hall.
I find my friend Ashley
and our sober cab Paul.
"Kelsey's with the cops
and Tom left with Nancy,
our cars down the road,
lets head to the street."

(12:25 A.M.)
As we sneak out the back
we hear the cops speak:
"The first kid we found
had **** drawn on his **** cheeks."

(1:05 A.M.)
After a while
the three of us arrive,
back to my place,
though we started with five.
The drive back was extended,
even if Paul was driving well,
because in my drunken stupor
I made him stop at Taco Bell.
We head through the porch,
My roommate's still up.
He asks if we wanna drink
and then goes to grab cups.

(1:50 P.M.)
After a few rounds of Kings
Paul's on the couch, fast asleep,
and James went downstairs,
It's just me and Ashley.

(2:00 A.M.)
We turn a movie on
and we sit in my bed.
We discuss all the things
going through both of our heads.
For three straight hours
she flirted up some guy
'til his girlfriend walked in
and started to cry.
She called Ashley a *****
who swore she didn't know
while dude stared at the ground
and said, "Sorry, bro."
Ashley had enough,
she hates being called a guy,
so she winded one up
and kissed her fist to his eye.

(3:00 A.M.)
We didn't watch the movie,
we just talked some more,
until we fell asleep
keeping one another warm.
Two old friends,
two trips in different Hells
and the only thing to do afterwords
was to laugh at ourselves.
Two old friends,
who's hunt for love was a blunder,
who consoled their loneliness
by wrapping up in each other.
The times aren't meant to be read with the poem, just to give it more style, aesthetically.
Rex Allen McCoy Jan 2015
~~~
Tis a gladness found in sadness
mostly pleasure
wince of pain
From an odor round the barroom
none the boys could e'er explain
Like a billowed line of washin'
after gentle fallen rain
Tis the wail of spring befallin'
on a barfly
oh ... the shame
~
Lo
there's homework
I'm the tender
to a list of things that broke
Ere the boss be sharing surely
words no poet ever spoke
Lazy good for nothing ******
paint the fence and fix the gate
You want a pint ... you must be kidding
Plow the forty ... 'fore it's late
~
Down the misty path of memories
thoughts of Kelsey's brew appears
In a vision almost godly
round a table rests my peers
And no memory tarries longer
forceful
clearer
sweeter
stronger
than ol' Kelsey pouring liquor at the bar
I sheds a tear
~
Summer sadness tans bare shoulders
to replace the winter's shun
And the kids each day
they greet me ... Morning Dad
YOUR IT ... then run
Lord
I never knew that Heaven
'twas the place beyond my wall
Till I heard my children laugh
while toasting mallows in the fall
~
Though breath of Heaven
washed the aftertaste
of Kelsey's from my life
And forever I'll be holding ... dear
new memories
with my wife
I am angered at the sign
that hangs atop ol' Kelsey's door
. . . NO BARFLIES . . .
. . . CASH RESPECTED . . .
~
Sure
His wife now runs the bar
~~~
destructive May 2014
I hope you appreciate him and his presence as much as I do. I hope you find the spaces between his fingers, just like I always wanted to. I hope you know how much I loved him... oh how I loved him. I loved the way he listened to me when I had something to say and I loved how soft spoken he was. He always knew the right words to say... and I hope he finds the most beautiful words to say to you. I hope you find him incredibly **** in that dark navy blue shirt with that silver tie... but know that we had so many memories together and those will never fade. I loved him with every ounce of my being and he never truly saw it. So now... I guess it's time for me to move on. This is the 6th time i've tried to get over him and no other attempts have been successful... i guess if you love something you should let it go right? And if it comes back to you its yours... and if not it was never yours to begin with? What if he comes back but just to check in? Ahh.. probably not. But as you are loving him, just remember that I loved him as much as I could and now loving him has broken me into little pieces. I will always have a spot in my heart for him if he ever decides to come back... make sure he remembers that. Kelsey, i hope you know how much it hurts me to write this. He was my source of happiness for the past 8 months, and i've come to find that it'd be best to let him go. Letting go has proven to be one of the hardest things I've ever tried to withstand. Sometimes I like to wonder what he's doing. Is he playing 2048 like we always used to? Is he entering grades? Is he watching that Bates Motel show that he educated me on one day? The possibilities are endless, and I'm hoping none of them involve you. You might have been wondering why I fell in love with him, and to be honest with you, i'm currently wondering that myself. Out of all people... a band teacher. More specifically, him. It's getting late, so i should stop writing and thinking about him, but I want you to remember this; he was once mine, but i was never his. If you ever find yourself in that type of situation, you will have felt what i felt.
the guy I wrote about... his name is Josh and he is the sweetest guy alive. The girl's name is Kelsey... she is his whole world and it kills me to see them together. but i have to accept the fact that he is no longer mine... and that will be hard.
Zoe Aug 2011
We made chicken fettuccine alfredo.
I don't really know what food has to do
with death, but
we made chicken fettuccine alfredo.
Timothy Brown Jul 2013
Picked up a little spark
out the corner of my shut eyelid.

Such a weird emission in this charcoal dark.
It began a faint glow.
Slightly brighter than the black
above, beside and below.
Then the glow became a hum
of violet and gradually grew
into a blue.

That color, so serene,
became a green  and its vibrations
were quite intense. Just like in the earth
out of the green, with a little help from it's blue fellow,
sprouted a most glorious shade of yellow!

I became intoxicated by this colorful spectrum,
drinking deeply of each color as if on some
florescent binge. When I had my my fill of this bouquet
out sprouted the orange and red.

They all danced in a kaleidoscopic
shuffle, shifting about like lovers
in a masquerade ball.
They would collide and waltz
twirl about each other with excellent grace
and then, in search of their original partner,
separate. Once the couples were reunited,
they took flight from my eyelids and slowly
but surely, in a most marvelous display,
everything returned to black as the colors faded away.
Written for a friend.
© July 3rd, 2013 by Timothy Brown. All rights reserved
Samuel Dec 2010
My phone lights up and goes dark.
An "X" with your name beside
A missed call.

I return.
You pick up.

Flash:

It's the eighth grade again.
It's 4 am.
I muffle my voice so my parents won't hear us talk
I refuse to hang up until I hear a click from your side
To preserve what I can, savor the moment

Return:

Tonight, we talk.
We discuss what went down on your side of the world this week
And remember old jokes
(your cat is only fatter)

Tonight, you're tired.
You and I both should go to sleep.
We sign off, say our good nights

And I am the first to hang up.
As I was that July, three long years ago.

*People change.
Sam Dickinson 2010
Ryan Bowdish Jul 2013
Shannon, Mariah, Serena, Maria
Meridia, Midian, Sharon, Alliah
Rochelle, Camille, Rose, Halo
Trenna, Jessica, Ashley, Georgia
Marla, Olivia, Sofia, India
Daniella, Diana, Christina, Caroline
Isabella, Amelia, Amanda, Matilda
Nadine, Haley, Bailey, Francine
Eliza, Annabelle, Kathryn, Sandra
Melinda, Audrey, Aubrey, Emily
Tara, Emma, Ginny, Kathleen
Josephine, Helena, Charlotte, Laura
Chelsea, Arkady, Megan, Kelsey
Kayla, Karliah, Moana, Vivien
Kaysea, Macy, Stacy, Lorraine
Theresa, Felicia, Cecilia, Darlene
Holly, Brianna, Alexa, Ariel
Marianne, Miranda, Jennie, Coral
Korra, Daisy, Penelope, Rayne
Zoey, Cassandra, Grace, Stephanie
Female names are beautiful. Poetry on their own.
Krissy Schiller Jun 2012
As Captain Jack kisses of the last roach
Lavender's in the boathouse window shouting that she's grown wings that she's gonna fly
over Old Casey's boat above the painted lake past where the music surrounds
permeates with the pulse of noise
Green Hat pulls me over says my name is Corey
or Kelsey
Kelly's a **** name I tell him back home people call me Blow
Enter Tennessee the cinnamon sipping reds smoking sonofagun
Are you Kevin?
I ask the fingers that familiar flight of touch leading me
down and
down and
down towards our game
"Never have I ever" howls the young Indian chief, scarf draped in madness
the fearless warrior Peepeeohpee
Someone has trapped the moon behind the window the house on the hill someone has fed the fire with its secret light
This stranger this enigma this Laura I am her cousin
and everyone I touch is Kevin
Then with the sun Tittas steps off the boat as Jesus
sacred palms slashed from last night's ritual
Bums a cig from Drew or Not Drew with the thousands out west and the lotus flower arms
Floats on her back French exhales
As I look at our feet stained red with ink all slow spirals soft wind ***** flowers
then to the shore the fireflies still dancing through the dawn
Flying high
Secretly praying to each outshine the fade
Andrew McElroy Oct 2012
Go to sleep.
Open up your dreams
To begin the amazing thoughts
and beings that conform
and reside around
the confusing words
that live in your mouth.

Lay with me,
Die with me
Open me up,
Twist me all around
and then put yourself in
Begin to see the inside of me
Inside the walls of my lungs
The black and graffiti’d walls
Wonderful, so good to be
All night, alright

What happened to you,
While you were inside of me?
Did you drive to the mighty sea?
Did you see the artist at work?
The girl in bed.
The man so lost.
The confusing air.

Mind of mine,
Lose your blues…
Use the abuse as the juice
To squeeze and drain
and inject into the veins
of this wicked country
Into your tattooed arms
Into the mind of your God
and your empty spirit.

Colliding and spinning…
Colliding and spinning…
Amy John Feb 2014
Why is it every time I get ahead I just fall back down?
One step forward twelve steps back,
Why everytime I feel a glimpse of contentment,
I end up crushed?
A wrecking ball to the chest
Knocking me back
Taking my wind
Crippling me with terrible force.
To say you broke my heart doesn't do the pain justice.
Crushed me
Mangled my body into pieces that will never be whole again.
My littlest kin
Why?
Who are you?
The mask you wear shields what you use to be
I remember the conversations
Hours spent teaching you
Coaching you
You, so eager to learn and willing to accept every aspect of my religion
Jah was good to you
Is this the same girl?
The one spitting at my face?
Yelling? Hitting ? Pushing?
Terrible things said send daggers of pain to my heart
Every thump sends shreds of glass through my veins and out my extremities
Only to circle back inside
Endless cycle.
I miss who you use to be
I am loosing faith
When do I walk away?
When do I say it's time to go?
Now.
Now I am done.
Now is enough.
I've held on for so long
The rope has finally snapped.
Things will never be the same.
I know you will never see this, Kelsey. I felt the need to add. I love you with all my heart. The drive home was terrible. I stopped on the side of the road at a feild and got out of my car. I allowed myself to crumple to the ground looking at the stars. Begging for peace. You didn't even care. You sent so help Kelsey. How dare you. HOW DARE YOU. I feel glimpses of anger, but it the purity of this overwhelming sadness is unbearable. It cloaks the anger. I've tried. Don't even say I didn't. I ******* tried. I did everything to my power to save you. Everything. You threw it all back. You will never be able to feel this pain that dwells deep inside me. I am bleeding with sorrow.
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2016
Priti Patel's quote on EU migration - whatever it was...
list of common surnames: cropper, cross, crouch,
dabney, dalton, daniels, eads, easton, eccleston,
fairclough, farnham, fay, gardner, garey, garfield,
haight, hanes, hailey, ibbott, irvin, isaacson,
jack, jackson, jacobs, kay, keen, kelsey,
lacey, lacy, lamar, macey, mann, marchand,
neal, nelson, neville... sure pati japati patel -
i'll be an albino in Gujarat
if your play the sitar in a sari;
but your name sounds a bit migrant
revealing, what a weird 'back of the bus'
you seem to stand on -
you want the Mongolians resurrected?
i swear we were being ousted in line
of what Queen Sheba said to Solomon:
'olive skinned throughout the geography
and the unwelcome green men on
sponged-knickers creaming for an ******
a french dessert...'
yes pretty prior, you found home on a
continent when half of the european nations
didn't practice colonial antics -
i guess it's easier to pick on them.
but with a Patel surname you sound british
already, the great experiment worked
the anaesthetic of former colonialism
numbed via recreational Ketamine use
really numbed the skull and jaw mandibles -
i hate, i hate being conscripted into
post-colonial affairs of "why it all failed"
what a waste of the urban hubs of
Manchester or Liverpool -
where once artistic expression thrived -
i hate these post-colonial societies,
it's as if they were castrated en masse,
and they're wondering why no one has a permanent
suntan in scandinavia - maybe the raw herring diet -
cinnamon up your ***, magician's trick with
space between fudge of digestion, disappearing trick
but then the cough that blinds you sweetly -
i guess post-colonial nationalism wanted to
listen to non-colonial nationalism -
a former migrant like pretty plated smell
olive skinned exploited inversion of angers
but dunked a footstep into a trip-up
with non-colonial nations -
a bit like the greek bail-out - pretty patel
is a name least likely associated with migration;
you teasing the beast out?
Martin Narrod May 2018
Again?

Little bits of paper set little boys and girls awake. Paper is the voice, it is the rush, and it plays against the spirit of the rough. Some had hands in favor, some made famous from their toils. Across the bridges, into harm, extreme liking finds a way to plant their dreams. A courageous haunt for storytellers fashioning fictitious love in the vocals of these pleasure scenes.

A gasp at poison sells us. Two legs is all it took- the fanciest of the 399 lives, stitched across the faces of all his slaves. Some hide behind the moon, in the shadow of its glow. Some depart him, only to remark, and take up the King James Bible in a fight to eradicate some half-lie half-truth tale. Some take up their histories. Some track down their accusers. Some just watch the show.

If ever was a prophet, material or fake. A flip of the light switch rewinds the days, while a new trial of words ghastly fails. If ever was a wind to whip the rocking torments of joy into a smooth flowing dressage of subtle paper cuts and clues, lusts on paper and *****, petite memes cloaked in the vast inertia of the West. Rags piled high as riches, short denim shorts worn publicly before each and every oval and square, curious domain names ******* the brain to forget the old complaints, renege on values once comparable or the same.

Only in this world, today, strangers bed each other and misspell the chants beaten into their acute proclivities for breaking the law, while purposely opening their mouths on soap boxes, and orchestrating the papers’ coolness through the grid and onto the plane. The work of the slaves is the accord to which forewords tune gravity.

This is the paper taking down cities. This is the worship building anarchy in its own members. This is the end of the call and the beginning of the caste. These are the mute and colorless stains on the walls, and the childhood loves of an adult that colorfully decorate the dormitory in his past with the clutter and occupancy that curtails to no complaint. There is the paper and there is the gain. Will any of them ever be human again?
Clutter boys girls boy and girl taking keeping god Jesuit anarchy human being accord fragrances scents stitches earn threads needles gravity awake sleep tire tiredness acute oval obtuse inertia West Kelsey paper papercuts utes travel wonder wander pleasing ***** fake real prophet world America dream poems poem poet 399 slaves master *** ****** grasp gasp sell sales earthly boredom experience sexuality
Jon Tobias Jun 2012
Kelsey Martinez visits the glory hole at the local Vons
Every afternoon at 3:00
He fills holes in attempts to fill his holes
And walks away a little more empty
With a sharpie on the inside of the stall door he writes
This is The John Wilkes Booth

The ways we **** sometimes kills us inside

Moriah Carter lost her virginity hesitantly
like a semi heterosexual cowboy
Riding *******
Because sometimes we just can’t look our lovers in the face
She knows how sometimes we are objects
Just a means to an end

Amanda Lee Van Zetten thinks about the day she was conceived
How if her parents had done anything besides missionary
Might she have been born differently
How passion might be lost in translation

Do not lose us in translation
We are not math or language
Not some secret cuneiform
We are simple structures of bone and breath

Just ask Kacie Brumley
Who lays awake some nights
Translating her body like braille
The Kafka transformation into blindness
Fingers like antennae
Response like music

We moan like music
We **** like music

I **** like music
There is ***** soul in these *****

If you don’t **** like music
Go to your nearest guitar center
Plug yourself into the nearest distortion pedal
And
Rrrrrrrreeeeeeevvvvive yourself

Remember Janelle Gibson
Who dances like a slow hurricane
Whipping sweat like beach water
To wash away sandy rough places
She knows how to spread the wet

Or Jennifer Smith
Whose body is a fire most days
And she wants someone to kiss her
On the blue part of the flame
She knows how it’s hard to find someone
Willing to touch you like they won’t be burned

Touch us like you know how to put out our fires
But won’t
All this flame is show
All this fire is just some unrequited glow
So you can still see us against a dying sunset

Jaimee Sanders
Is fine ******* in the dark
Knows that we really are like insects
How we feel passionate and blind while the lights are out
But the minute the sun breaks the blinds
We scatter to some new dark space in shame

Forget having perfect bodies
And ******* with the lights out
We are sunsets
That don’t sit well
Like bedrooms in the dark
We are shameful passion

Just don’t regret me in the morning

Toffer doesn’t regret me
After that one night so many years ago
He knows as well as we do
How often we are just fleshy strands of light
Flayed down to some simple structure
Of bone and breath
And the need
To be needed

I want to want someone so badly
Thinking about them helps me sleep at night
He said

So know this
We are fire
And we **** like music
And we **** like shame
And we **** like insects in a dark room

This is how we ****
And it feels good
September Sep 2012
That double crescent moon bite mark
That Thom made on my arm
To show me he was, "*****."

Those five purple fingerprints
That Riley left, to remind me
My pants? Gone last night.

That weird, mysterious oval
On the inside of my thigh.
...Was that Kelsey or Nyssa?

That tiny yellow mark that splotched my eyebrow
From when I ran into a telephone pole
—completely sober.
Tyler still mocks me about that.

That blood red under-eye
That made me realize
We all get hit.

That Texas-shaped purple-to-yellow transition
That screamed to me,
We all heal.
Jay D Sep 2010
Yes.
I remember you
But not your name. Kate? No.
Mallory? No.
I'm sorry.
There's too many faces now.
But I do remember you. Mollie? No.
You were the girl with the blue eyes. Yes.
The girl who wore contacts.
The girl who's eyes are actually a beautiful brown.
Yes you. I saw you.  I remembered you.
I wanted to love you madly. Kelsey? No.
You spoke to me about how you're from out of town
But you said you'd move here one day.
With me? No. Emily? No.
******.
You'll have to forgive me...
See, I have a photographic memory,
But sometimes the pictures come out blurry.
Here. Let me hold you a second.
I promise it'll come back to me. No? Ok.
Nice try? I know. I've never held you before, but it was worth a try.
But we can start now? No? Ok.
Jenny? No.
Forget it. I don't need to remember.
I love you. Brown-eyed, Blue-eyed, name-less girl.
We don't need names. Why? Because it's really not that important.
*this has kinda an abrupt end...but maybe one day I'll add on to it.
palladia May 2015
dear followers, those i follow, those who have messaged me, those who have critiqued me, anyone who has read my words, and those who have yet not,

thank you for spending your time with my work. you have made my 2 year hello poetry voyage a pleasant one.

i’ve had a rough start to this 2015: so many choices have to be made; stressful home-life; and i’m on the verge of a life-changing decision which i’m counting on to put me in a better place. i’ve lost the time to spend creatively inventing new word sequences to post here, as my last drafts are insipidly dull and were posted just to seem like i’m still here… but i’m not. i haven’t been able to write poetry for a year now! i’m just continuously revising old drafts that were written 2-3 years ago, so when those springs run dry, i will have nothing left to offer.

however! i have quite a few megalithic pieces i’ve been working on for over 2 years that i am expecting to publish here, probably no later than sept 2015. after these pieces (which form a book) are fleshed out and ready for publication, i have decided to stop running my hello poetry account and leave it up as a relic of my childhood. most of my poems on here are juvenilia anyways, written when i was 15 and 16 on the vast acres of deciduous north america. i’ve moved on with my life now. i’m in an entirely different place, much older, and hopefully wiser. i’ll try to stay sane these upcoming months and pray i don’t disappoint with my expected poetry explosion.

meanwhile, i’ve shared 2 of my most favourite poems in the world by repost in my feed (right before this message). they are reed kelsey’s “there’s a universe in his eyes” and yangliu’s “rangers edge of the city.” i would like to send virtual xoxoxo to reed kelsey and yangliu because your poetry literally spoke like nothing before to me; i’m not just speaking about mechanics, but your flow of beautiful lines/blocks of words i can only dream of writing. after years of gathering words i find attractive in books (trust me i’ve got plenty), both of you seem to throw those out and just use simple language to create an unimaginably genius arrangement. i’m jealous! yet i’m in awe. xoxoxo to both of you… i can never send enough.

thank you for reading this far and to everyone i mentioned above, much love. i adored my time here, and that’s what counts. and if you really miss me, you can find me on tumblr (if you try).

from all these years of work, suffering, and toil,
pluck me, and I shall glean the gain of an eternal laurel.

now in this triumph, I shall constellate
sail unafraid through stormy Symplegades
catheterize my fears, lost to my face

remember me, with all my glorious infantry
we’ll watch them obliterate the deeds
my laurel has yet to bring…

xoxoxo pallas
Appropriate music to listen to while reading the letter:
Observations of Self, by D. Burke Mahoney:
http://twinspringstapes.bandcamp.com/track/observations-of-self
Ryan P Kinney Nov 2017
I am scared!
Scared of this world

Robert Godwin Sr
Alyssa Elsman

How many more have to die?
By my kind,
By their kind,
Because they blame some other kind
What ever happened to just being
kind?

Daniel Parmertor, Russell King, Jr., Demetrius Hewlin

Where were you when the World Trade Center went down?
It’s something everyone alive then will always remember
Never Forget! was our brand motto for American Pride

Krystle Marie Campbell, Lü Lingzi, Martin William Richard, Sean A. Collier, Dennis Simmonds

And now, the death of another is so commonplace
That we forget what and where.
It’s no longer personal enough to register where in our lives that it struck us
Only note that another life has been struck down
Add another tally to the equation
And still it does not add up

Trayvon Martin
Tamir Rice
Samuel DuBose
Delrawn Small
Philando Castile
Terence Crutcher
Heather Heyer

We are completely desensitized
And decentralized
We keep ourselves disconnected
(because we just can’t absorb,
Take,
Process it all)
It’s not us
It’s not me
It’s somebody else
Somewhere else.
Until it is
Then we care
How much can we take, before we break

Cynthia Marie Graham Hurd, Susie Jackson, Ethel Lee Lance, Depayne Middleton Doctor, Clementa C. Pinckney, Tywanza Sanders, Daniel Simmons, Sharonda Coleman Singleton, Myra Thompson

The tragedy is the comedy
We laugh so we don’t cry
Sakia Gunn
Richie Phillips
Nireah Johnson, Brandie Coleman
Glenn Kopitske
Scotty Joe Weaver
Jason Gage
Michael Sandy
Sean William Kennedy
Duanna Johnson
Lawrence "Larry" King
Angie Zapata
Lateisha Green
****** August Provost, III
Mark Carson

I can’t say I’ve never thought of committing violence.
Hell, when my ex-wife cheated, it occurred to me
And I can’t say that I have never hit another
I’ve been a kid
My whole life is designed just to grow up
But, I’ve thought of killing myself far more often than the thought to harm anyone else have ever occurred to me
Because my problems are mine;
My fault,
And I am not seeking some scapegoat

Keenya Cook, Jerry Taylor, Million A. Woldemariam, Claudine Parker, Hong Im Ballenge, James Martin, James L. Buchanan, Premkumar Walekar, Sarah Ramos, Lori Ann Lewis-Rivera, Pascal Charlot, Dean Harold Meyers, Kenneth Bridges, Linda Franklin née Moore, Jeffrey Hopper, Conrad Johnson, 1 unnamed victim

I am not going to deny that being a white male hasn’t allowed me to sidestep a whole level of *******
One day, angry white males will be the minority
And we’ll have no one left to blame, but ourselves.
If we don’t **** everyone first
If we don’t **** ourselves first

Michael Arnold, Martin Bodrog, Arthur Daniels, Sylvia Frasier, Kathy Gaarde, John Roger Johnson, Mary Francis Knight, Frank Kohler, Vishnu Pandit, Kenneth Bernard Proctor, Gerald Read, Richard Michael Ridgell

Jonathan Blunk, Alexander J. Boik , Jesse Childress, Gordon Cowden,
Jessica Ghawi, John Larimer, Matt McQuinn, Micayla Medek, Veronica Moser Sullivan, Alex Sullivan, Alexander C. Teves, Rebecca Wingo

The earth has already decided that we are a plague upon it
Maybe climate change is the natural response to the abuse of our gifts

Nancy Lanza, Rachel D'Avino, Dawn Hochsprung, Anne Marie Murphy,
Lauren Rousseau, Mary Sherlach, Victoria Leigh Soto, Charlotte Bacon, Daniel Barden, Olivia Engel, Josephine Gay, Dylan Hockley, Madeleine Hsu, Catherine Hubbard, Chase Kowalski, Jesse Lewis, Ana Márquez Greene, James Mattioli, Grace McDonnell, Emilie Parker, Jack Pinto, Noah Pozner, Caroline Previdi, Jessica Rekos, Avielle Richman, Benjamin Wheeler, Allison Wyatt

What is this world going to teach my son?
That he’s better because of how he looks?
Or what I’ve taught him:
You make yourself better.

Jamie Bishop, Jocelyne Couture Nowak, Kevin Granata, Liviu Librescu,  P
G. V. Loganathan, Ross Alameddine, Brian Bluhm, Ryan Clark, Austin Cloyd, Daniel Perez Cueva, Matthew Gwaltney, Caitlin Hammaren, Jeremy Herbstritt, Rachael Hill, Emily Hilscher, Matthew La Porte, Jarrett Lane, Henry Lee, Partahi Lumbantoruan, Lauren McCain, Daniel O'Neil, Juan Ortiz, Minal Panchal, Erin Peterson, Michael Pohle Jr., Julia Pryde, Mary Karen Read, Reema Samaha, Waleed Shaalan, Leslie Sherman, Maxine Turner, Nicole White

I work as a data analyst
So, I ran the numbers
But, these are more than numbers
These are people: sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, friends, lovers.

Stanley Almodovar III, Amanda Alvear, Oscar A. Aracena Montero, Rodolfo Ayala Ayala, Alejandro Barrios Martinez, Martin Benitez Torres, Antonio D. Brown, Darryl R. Burt II, Jonathan A. Camuy Vega, Angel L. Candelario Padro, Simon A. Carrillo Fernandez, Juan Chevez Martinez, Luis D. Conde, Cory J. Connell, Tevin E. Crosby, Franky J. DeJesus Velazquez, Deonka D. Drayton, Mercedez M. Flores, Juan R. Guerrero, Peter O. Gonzalez Cruz, Paul T. Henry, Frank Hernandez, Miguel A. Honorato, Javier Jorge Reyes, Jason B. Josaphat, Eddie J. Justice, Anthony L. Laureano Disla, Christopher A. Leinonen, Brenda L. Marquez McCool, Jean C. Mendez Perez, Akyra Monet Murray, Kimberly Morris, Jean C. Nives Rodriguez, Luis O. Ocasio Capo, Geraldo A. Ortiz Jimenez, Eric I. Ortiz Rivera, Joel Rayon Paniagua, Enrique L. Rios Jr., Juan P. Rivera Velazquez, Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan, Christopher J. Sanfeliz, Xavier E. Serrano Rosado, Gilberto R. Silva Menendez, Edward Sotomayor Jr., Shane E. Tomlinson, Leroy Valentin Fernandez, Luis S. Vielma, Luis D. Wilson Leon, Jerald A. Wright

I did research to try to find all the victims since I became abruptly aware 16 years ago
There are too many
I could not discover a single database that contained a comprehensive record
No one can keep track of it anymore
I know I’ve missed people
I know there are 1000’s of people now missing people
Even 1 was too much

Hannah Ahlers, Heather Alvarado, Dorene Anderson, Carrie Barnette, Jack Beaton, Steve Berger, Candice Bowers, Denise Salmon Burditus, Sandra Casey, Andrea Castilla, Denise Cohen, Austin Davis, Virginia Day Jr, Christiana Duarte, Stacee Etcheber, Brian Fraser, Keri Galvan,  Dana Gardner, Angela Gomez, Rocio Guillen Rocha, Charleston Hartfield,  Chris Hazencomb, Jennifer Irvine, Nicol Kimura, Jessica Klymchuk, Carly Kreibaum, Rhonda LeRocque, Victor Link, Jordan McIldoon, Kelsey Meadows, Calla Medig, James ‘Sonny’ Melton, Pati Mestas, Austin Meyer, Adrian Murfitt, Rachael Parker, Jennifer Parks, Carrie Parsons, Lisa Patterson,  John Phippen, Melissa Ramirez, Jordyn Rivera, Quinton Robbins, Cameron Robinson, Lisa Romero Muniz, Christopher Roybal, Brett Schwanbeck, Bailey Schweitzer, Laura Shipp, Erick Silva, Susan Smith, Tara Roe Smith, Brennan Stewart, Derrick ‘Bo’ Taylor, Neysa Tonks, Michelle Vo, Kurt Von Tillow, Bill Wolfe Jr.

and NOW I’ve run out of lines and time to read off all 2,977 people who died in 9-11
Isn’t that a tragedy?
We made plans in college
We'd graduate, then teach
But, a phone call from the doctor
put those plans out of reach

I remember sitting quietly
As I heard the old man say
"You're going to have a baby"
I guess Life Gets In The Way

Life Gets in The Way my dear
Life Gets in The Way
We'll put our plans on hold my dear
Until another day
Don't worry, things will all work out
No matter what folks say
We just have to face the fact my dear
That Life Gets In The Way

You quit to raise our children
We had two, one on the way
It's funny just what happens
When Life Gets in The Way

I remember that fall morning
The news the doctor had to say
It still hurts me to remember
When Life Gets In The Way

Life Gets in The Way my dear
Life Gets in The Way
We'll put our plans on hold my dear
Until another day
Don't worry, things will all work out
No matter what folks say
We just have to face the fact my dear
That Life Gets In The Way


Time has passed, there's grandkids now
Like you, they love the beach
Kelsey, Michael's  youngest
Wants to grow up and to teach

I wish that you could see them
As they run around and play
But, Cancer took you from me
Because Life Got in The Way

I think of you, your smile
And how you'd look at me and say
We will once more be together
Unless...Life Gets In The Way

Life Gets in The Way my dear
Life Gets in The Way
We'll put our plans on hold my dear
Until another day
Don't worry, things will all work out
No matter what folks say
We just have to face the fact my dear
That Life Gets In The Way
Freya Adwin Mar 2019
She asked if I could babysit her child,
While she went running some errands,
She said she’d pay me 15 dollars an hour,
She said her kids' name is Karen.

She didn’t give me much time to answer,
But no matter what I would’ve said sure,
She stated her own name,
But I didn’t hear her.

She was in a hurry,
Her eyes flickered from side to side,
She ran off without any transportation,
I almost asked if she needed a ride.

I walked up to her house,
And opened up the door,
And sitting there was Karen,
Crisscross on the floor.

She smiled a bright smile,
Greeted me with a “hey”
And, to my surprise,
Said that Kelsey was her name.

I didn’t mention to her,
That her mother got her name wrong,
Rather I pulled out my phone,
And asked if she knew any songs.

She said she could search it herself,
And that she was a “big girl”
So I handed her the phone,
And this is when she changed my world.

She searched the song,
Put it on really loud,
And then began to sing along,
Or, rather, she began to shout.

She danced in a circle,
My phone in her hand,
And from that moment I knew,
My time spent here would be far from grand.

A very stressful child,
And though I was getting paid more for a longer watch,
I couldn’t wait for it to be over,
And I kept checking my watch.

Four hours in,
The mom was nowhere in sight,
The same song was on repeat,
And Kelsey would play it all night.

I snapped,
I’d had enough.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
It was the only way to shut her up.

I grabbed a couch cushion,
And when she was turned around,
I wrapped it around her little face,
And shoved her down.

With the pillow drowning out her screams,
Of suffocation and fear,
With her tiny limbs flailing,
My lunacy began to appear.

I enjoyed her struggle!
And her muffled screams!
It brought joy to my heart,
And brought pleasant dreams.

But it was a different type of joy,
Unlike iced tea on a summer's day,
It was like the feeling you get,
When a nuisance has passed away.

Oh, finally!
What joy!

If I knew that death brought me such satisfaction,
I would’ve started long ago.
But now the mother is arriving home,
And obviously, she can’t know.

So I know a perfect way,
To keep her from finding out,
I’ll just have to **** her, too.
Yes, without a doubt.

And maybe I’ll share this joy,
Of watching her blood spill,
But that story’s for another time,
Another story of my ****.
So yeah, I like ****** lol. Still an old one.
anonymous Oct 2016
the sign at the side of the road says "right lane ends"
i yell at it "everything ends"
no one hears me

except maybe god
but god's not watching today
god's TiVoing me
god'll probably get to it later
i get it though
there's supernovas and auroras and kardashians to watch

the christians say that god knit me together in my mother's womb
all fearfully and wonderfully
i get the sense that maybe the good yarn was on back order that day
it's okay god
i also have days when i wake up late and almost miss the bus and forget my part of the group project that's due today

we got this, though

we got lots of ways to glue and macaroni up a brain just right
all this science and not enough places to stick it
i shove a handful through the blood-brain barrier and there it is
home
chemicals so sweet they make me cry glitter

it's funny how things can look the same but feel so different
when kelsey texts that we need to talk, that it needs to be over skype
it fills me with that old dread

it just takes a few words to scoop me out like a pumpkin
they don't last long, after you carve them

i want to take extra antidepressant tomorrow morning
it increases my risk of seizures but i don't care
i'm not sure how many hours i spent today
shuffling through walmart with downcast eyes
occasionally stopping to cry at a toaster or pillowcase

thirty one is mathematically prime
it doesn't feel very prime

when i get to the end of the toothpaste i know i still have time
i roll it and squeeze it and press it and
day after day this tube gives me what i need to get by until
one day it doesn't anymore
that's my thirty one

i watch the sad blue mouthwash disappear into the drain
i'm not sure why

people act like a breakup retroactively erases
all of the joy and value a relationship had
like its impermanence somehow robs it of significance

i figure every relationship ends
either in breakup or death
i don't think it makes them any cheaper

to regret anything is to wish for your own non-existence
without the steps and forking branches that brought you to here, you would be someone else
someone that your parents and best friends might mistake for you

i regret.
apathy Jun 2013
trust is filled and spilled,
its lost and gained,
its stolen and given
and still, i trust no one

every single time i trust someone,
they hurt me
so why do i trust at all?

somethings are broken,
but sometimes,
they never get fixed

how do i trust someone,
when all they ever do is hurt me?

its like a loop,
it constantly terrorizes me,
at first,
i don't trust you, out of fear,
out of insecurity,
but then i let you in,
ever so slowly,
and then, when i'm not noticing,
you turn it all around,
you hurt me.
you hurt me over and over again

when i'm done with being hurt,
i move on,
just to find someone else to be friends with,
to trust,
and then to get hurt by all over again

i thought at 15,
your supposed to learn how to cook,
how to go out in the real world,
to prepare for college or your future
but i'm not learning that,
i'm learning how mean people can be

so, Kayla,
Sarah,
Haley,
Kelsey
Miss Shaddock,
and now Emmaliegh,
how do i trust again?

all you ever did was hurt me,
was it really that hard just to be a good person?
why did you hurt me?
i thought i could trust you,
now, i trust no one,
and that's because of you
Jon Tobias Jun 2012
Our bodies are dumb
but we use them well
Like last legged engines
Like ugly cars you drive into the ground

This is how we live

Moriah Carter dances diligently
A body of prayer
Til all she has are heavy heaves
And the choreography of a long lost language
Leaving the speakers speechless

Kelsey Martinez is a ball of energy building
And he’s begging some beautiful woman
for an angel fist of light
Punched right into his dark side
An eye bulge duet of disgusting duality
But this **** feels good

We just wanna feel good

Janelle Gibson ***** like music
***** like a jazzy slap bass in a dark room
Like gritty distortion during a slow jam
Like this has the potential to be so much harder
But it won’t be
Even if you want it to

Kacie Brumley knows how ******* our bodies can get
She never forgets the importance of her own breath
Even when she’s holding it
Here
Hold her breath she’ll be right back
She is gasp and knee buckle praise for
Awkward types of beauty

Jennifer Smith is embracing fragile
The fragile ties that link lives to other lives
As if she were a knife
Sharp enough to sever
But patient and still enough not too
It takes patience to stand that still
And she wants you to know
She doesn’t have to

Amanda Lee Van Zatten wears her rose colored glasses backwards
Because she’d rather be naïve beauty
than see naïve beauty
So she dresses up in childhood
And still does things
Like wish on wells
And stars
And people that break

Tim Pagaard teaches English
Respects the breath that speaks like it has something to say
Knows that all this poetry and language is just practice for our mouths
So when it comes time to actually speak for something
We can
He believes we can

We’re all in this process of becoming broken
And in the short time interim
Are learning how to live
It takes a long time to learn to live
And I feel like I’ve been here for that long

I think you should live like you’ve got aids
Not so much that you are going to die tomorrow
But you might
But you don’t have to feel so bad if you like rest a day
But then you gotta get back out there

I fall asleep in other people’s beds
So often I am too drunk to go home
Not that I’d want to
I am clumsy bear hug boney
Begging my roughness to rub people the right way
Am broken and fake toothed smiling
Because I believe even when you are unattractive
Smiling is beautiful

And Christoffer Jones is man still finding ways to fit in his own skin
Not that he feels he doesn’t
But there are more ways to fit than one
Is obnoxious in the mornings after
He lives
He lives

Life isn’t short
Seventy some odd years is a long time
It’s just not long enough

We know this
And this is how we live
Kelsey P Nov 2011
I've loved you as best I can,
I put my trust in you.
But when the time came you ran,
Just like the other two.

My heart; all battered and bruised,
It's now laying on the floor
Beating helplessly because of you.

I'd pick up the pieces
Of what's left of me,
But they only reflect
Who I used to be,
when I was with you.

With you I could fly,
I gave everything I had to you...
But when you left me here to die,
Well I guess my heart did too.

I won't blame you for the hurt,
Because that would just be mean
But I will say that what you did...
Well, it just got the best of me.

I hope your new town's fine;
Perfect in every way.
But don't forget who you left behind,
And all the memories that will haunt you one day.

- Kelsey
Ameliorate Jun 2015
She stands for solidity
A force to be reckoned with
Her name comprised of two syllables
Ebbing and flowing effortlessly like ships on a calm sea
Unmistakable beauty radiates
While people are drawn to her presence like a moth to a flame
This girl has a spark which is derived from her selfless soul
The way her eyes smile when she speaks
A true taste of simplicity.
Radiance, compassion
A true friend to have
Kelsey, my cousin
The girl who came from the sea.
Drawing inspiration from someone close to me.
Can't seem to put my finger on it, but love maybe a little defiant. I believe love try to be a reckless when it won't to be, how could you describe me meeting you? So you telling me that we met only by coincidence; or do dreams really come true?  Never in a million years I'll believe love will send me one of god most gorgeous angels, love keep trying time and time again to make me open up and let it in, but a constant fight keeps it out. I wish someone would have told me love is defiant to the end, because love again love wins.
Kelsey D. Cooley Sr.
She was built,
shorter than the other buildings,
     but stands just as tall.
She was designed to be
     thinner,
     as it would just fit.
Her long winding curves,
     stretching lusciously
          into the great blue sky.
Sabatino,
     or what I like to,
          call her:
               Kelsey.
Her smile a grin
     of reflective bright
          sunlight.
This was how she was modeled,
     crafted with the finest:
          Marble,
          Steel,
          Wood,
          and Stone.
As if Michelangelo
     or Da Vinci,
came back to chisel this
     monument to beauty.
Not because they can,
because they must.
     I may walk past this building
          everyday,
on my way to work,
          coffee,
          school.
But one day,
     I will christen the lips
          of her sounding entrance.
That day I
     will be as tall as her.
A titan of concrete,
     of steel.
A titan that controls my
          imagination,
          time,
and heart.

— The End —