Lau Chavis
May 26, 2011

'It’s the shoes I noticed first', you tell me
fabric and rubber worn-down by too much love
remnants of favorite memories stained into the sides

‘It’s how they changed’, you explain
One day to the next
Flat and easy to Amazonian heights and ankle breakers

‘They are full of surprises’, you say
                       Just like you
My cheeks flush pink

‘I like that’, you tell me
I wonder, what kind of guy notices a girl’s shoes?

You wait for me to accept the compliment
Instead I roll my eyes

And you see in me a common ally

(Young man in dressing gown enters room, sees a man also in dressing gown in front of laptop, glasses on.)

Surprise!
What?
Guess.
Erm... give us a clue?
I can't, you'll get it straight away.
OK, is it to do with the football?
Nope.
The weather, it's raining aga-
Nope.
Umm... I guess her?
Go on...
There's something online?
Well, yes, keep going.
I presume the usual.
The usual?
You know, Saturday nights and she...
Yep, you are thinking what I'm thinking.
Oh, that is a surprise!
I know, I did say at the start...

(Man in front of laptop checks to make sure if it is true or not. Indeed it is. Groans and looks up to see there is no one else in the room with him.)

Written: May 2012.
Explanation: To be honest, not sure if this even is a poem. Written in my own time.
Beaux
Beaux
Jun 26, 2013

Have you seen the troubled youth these days?
They're not very troubled at all.
They create their own illness then spread it amongst the masses of degenerates.
The symptoms consist of debauchery and disrespect.
They yell to the crowd, "Look at me for I am broken."
No. You are fixed...fixed onto the idea that one must be troubled to be different.
Oh, have you seen the troubled youth of today?
They're not so troubled after all.

ottaross
ottaross
Aug 18, 2013

Choosing a series a words for a ditty,
Those we first pluck a few at a time.
For readers it will, at first, seem so pretty
When they detect that rhythm and rhyme.

But soon, I suggest, it becomes such a chore,
When words strung together do pose
An oft-trodden pattern or insipid score
That bounces and sings as it goes.

The message conveyed in this rigid frame,
Is lesser I fear than than when we escape
From words chosen for just ending the same
Or some fortuitous fit to that shape.

So I tend to lean towards using blank form,
For verses I build by the letter,
And chose the words that I feel will conform
To that which my heart says are better.

Tara Sampson
Tara Sampson
Feb 28, 2012

Lights out, music on

Ladies, time to dress classy

And dance like a slut.

Tara Sampson
Tara Sampson
Mar 10, 2012

I'm the teenage girl,
Restless, with an attitude,
Living just to die.

Wake up.
Tell yourself the bathroom can wait no longer.
Forget to go
5 more minutes
30 more minutes
Get dressed
Grab mismatched shoes
Almost miss the mandated public transportation to hell
Yell
Walk to a door I know will be locked
Pull on the door trying to see if my arms get stronger since
The day before 
Talk
Pretend to listen
Have nothing important to say back
Slap?
“What the HELL you do that for?”
Duck.
More duck.
Then….
Chord.  

Ride back from hell in a smelly monster
Nap
Banana
Nap again
Remember to go to the bathroom
Climb a tree
Fall out
“Where’s my phone?”
Find it,
Lose it again
Lose myself
Find myself

Then do it all 
Again.

Science
Science
May 22, 2013      May 22, 2013

picky
teaser
lota
pizza
flamingo
burnin'
gerhkin
wordin'
processing
pro
gramme
lots
a
purple
tan
tanging
tongue
tear
stupid
deer
croissant
croissant
croissant


(are you here?)

rich
and
faming
silly
daydream
little
cupid
castle
cooped
chicken
kickin'
malicious
software

(are we there?)

yet
cooky
suki
mikky
mopy
skiing
slopy
tear
out
control
shout
doubt
pout
trouble
double
choc
tim
tam
ginge
sortafairy
tail
of
a
bat
rat
smack


(should we pack?)

and
CRACK
goes
ankle
blowing
soccer
flowin'
talk
tak
no
silly
silly
silly

all these
years

(should I be crying these tears?)


hello
again
a
pen?
why
thanks
some
lunch
punch
crunch
an
ankle
swollen
ready
all

flail
fall


(?)

Emma Johnson
Apr 30, 2010

You think that smile will make it all right,
Do you realise you’re enraging my mind?
Think it’s okay because you believe your better, why?
Like that grin makes it okay to stay blind.

Because I’m young you think I’m dumb,
You count your manners on one thumb,
You speak out; you smile like I’m making fun.
I got a rage that will make you wish you were numb.

Anger, my rage erupts enough for me to lash out,
Punch the wall, should have been your face, ow.
You have directly affected my mood now
Brewing and steaming, to release I jot this down.
Now how do I get rid of this frown?

© Emma Johnson 2009
Arizona Indigo
Arizona Indigo
Jan 12, 2013

I apologize for my thoughts and my actions

But you must understand that I am what they call a man.

And no matter how perfect any woman thinks iam,

I might as well be nonexistent.

For women are the most alluring, sinful ,angelic animals on earth.

I am simply bewitched by your existence.

I can not resist directing an x-rated daydream,

Every seven minuets.

The being of your facts,

Makes me want to fall to my death beneath your feet

Something about those hills

That makes my teeth want to sink into my lips.

That voice makes me want to do one thing:

Hear it moaning.

No matter how hard I attempt to be an angel,

My devil enduringly conquers.

We refuse to admit that a

woman is stronger than a man.

We could easily succeed

in having a human being develop

Inside of us and painfully thrust it out of a diminutive hole

Nine physically and emotionally draining months later.

“We could probably do it better than you can.”

We just act ignorant and

Heedlessly assume what is logical;

However, in the reaction center,

that every man denies,

lives the manifest verity that:

Women.

Are.

Stronger.

To be born into a stormy emotional spectrum

With color and darkness

Alone shelters the truth for you.

Fact: A man does use his small head much more often then

His actual head, simply, because men don’t know how to use it.

How convenient it is to be born with two heads.

let its roots anchor into your minds and consume your conscious.

-Arizona

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