(I think I've lost the ability to start things, so please forgive this poem for not having an attention grabbing genesis)
I've been twiddling my thumbs for almost eight months now
Putting off all that I care about
(And especially everything that I don't. Here's lookin' at you, AP World History)
Sitting around amassing a booklet of words to use in the future for novels and whatnot
But only using them in essays so I seem smarter than I am
(For example, susurrus means 'a whispering or rustling sound; a murmur')
Hoarding anything affiliated with Ben Folds because he makes me feel things on occasion
(I currently have 189 songs of his on my iTunes library; No one understands me.)
Making dick jokes at lunch while masking the thoughts of substance ricocheting around in my head
(Also your mom jokes because no one would think that you're crying internally about the uncertainty of the afterlife whilst making lewd stabs at their mother's integrity(and vagina. Ba dum tss.))
Apparently craving the lingering feel of another's touch
As illustrated by my subconscious through the medium of dreams
(I had a dream a few weeks back that Ben Folds licked my hand; My stomach folded (hahahah, folded) in on itself.)
Thinking that my feelings of misanthropy and apathy and everything else I can't find the words for yet are mine alone because everyone else is too stupid to have thought them themselves
(Even though I know that I'm not particularly special and I should stop being so elitist and stupid)
But I've finally found a light at the end of the table in the last place I'd expect--
(I meant to say tunnel, but hey, the source of said light does sit at my lunch table.)
A cherubic Presbyterian boy with an aversion to all things perverse,
(Which includes my sailor's tongue and occasional tendencies to want to put it on a member of my own sex, thought he doesn't know about that)
A spec of cleanliness on the grimy waistcoat of humanity who makes me want to be the best I can be
(Today when I saw him, I only swore once; I was very proud of myself)
But maybe I'm just jumping the gun
Because what would a good Christian boy want with a heathen like me who isn't even sure she believes in God?
Maybe his prolonged contingencies were merely contingent and I'm just overreacting because of my few and far between incidences of human contact.
(Seriously. Don't touch me.)
Maybe I just want someone to talk to for hours about everything and nothing at all.
(What with me being relatively antisocial, it's hard to find people with similar mindsets.)
Maybe I just want someone to funnel my adolescent attention to
(Because teen movies have taught me that one obviously can't be happy without having a crush on someone at any given time.)
Or maybe it's just because the way the Bible quote on the back of his t-shirt conflicted so humorously with the way he shook his hips to a J-Lo song on "Just Dance."
(Seriously, though, it was hilarious. I was dying.)
Or the way our fingers brushed when we were catching frogs
Or the way he blushed when I stepped out in my bikini
(I went to a pool party today.)
Or the way he held me momentarily in the delirious confusion of the flashing strobe lights
Or the way he got one point higher on his research paper than me a month ago
(He was excited; I was upset.)
Or the way that he does everything nearly to perfection.
I could go on..
But I don't know.
Maybe I'll get over him in a week and slip back into myself.
Because, like I said, what would a good Christian boy want with a heathen like me?
In fair Verona where Will set the scene
Belle Fortune moves the markers up and down.
Two households both alike in dignity
Fiercely compete for fear of losing ground.
When Juliet saw Romeo at the dance
Events were set in motion that, perchance,
Would see fair Juliet as our Romeo’s bride
but ultimately result in her suicide.
With Tybalt and Mercutio both dead,
And Capulet and Montague estranged.
Young Paris sought fair Juliet to wed
not knowing of her loss of maiden-head.
Romeo was banished for his crime,
a sin for which a peasant would have died
Their two households, joined because they wed,
remained divided by their foolish pride.
Summer’s fierce heat shimmered in the air,
oppressive in the absence of a breeze.
With Friar Lawrence’s help, Romeo’s girl played dead,
as if struck down by some unknown disease
Romeo , in Mantua, heard that his Juliet
Lay dead amongst the sleeping Capulets.
A draught of deadly poison he obtained
So they might sleep together once again.
When Romeo met Paris at her tomb,
Words led to swordplay, leaving Paris dead.
Would not the world have been a better place
if Romeo had kept it sheathed instead?
Unshriven, Romeo drank the poison down-
the only son of Montague now dead.
Perchance just then fair Juliet revives
Bereaved, she took his Dirk to bed instead.
Authorities, arriving at the scene,
could only mourn a brace of kinsmen lost.
Capulet and Montague were reconciled
Their amity bought at a fearful cost.
The evening was awake full of history
wind pressing against warm skin
that forgetting would be too long
we didn't have a sail
or a boat
or more importantly an anchor
to remove or ground us in this swelling sea
I looked over your head wishing for sunlight
so we could go back to yesterday and the day before
so that maybe we would have never yelled so loudly
on the train tracks
watching humanity tear itself apart
on each side of us
we got lost in that
we lost everything we said we never would
and now these buildings aren't our friends
and their structure is pushing us out like gates
I'll become a stranger to another town
walking without your shadow underneath empty street lights
talking to the moon about things only you heard
about why I thought the world is ending
and how I planned on
(your hand helped the most)
tonight we said goodbye in tangled fists and heartbeats
tonight I shed away the secrecy of humming words I told you while you were sleeping
far away dreaming of me
I grabbed you like it was the last time, the way I always meant to hold you
tonight I sang to you in years
locked behind eyes you so swore chambered the sun
(on couches and floors)
watching you circle around me
like the earth
steady in your footsteps
in cold spring winds
but Im already in Portland missing you
walking streets and counting trees I wish I could show you
because you're not here
where I think I need you
Im already reading your book about the sand
and imaging the way you smile in the desert
tickling scars you gave me on a bed
wasted wine and razor blades
(now twisted like metallic woven thread pink and past)
Lucky You ,I tongued my lips
that red rust
pain killing love
love killing pain
fuck the way you made my thighs sweat
your arms are tied around me now
and Im promising myself I won't forget
amongst the screaming silent trees
your heart is beating faster..
'your emotions are heavy,
I'll keep them inside my chest'
"We will create a civilization of the Mind in Cyberspace. May it be more
humane and fair than the world your governments have made before."
Such grandiose vision
inspired the decision
to twist your words into our new world.
And we twisted, and twisted,
until the line of sight broke.
Now, the civilization you envisioned
has become more than you could have ever dreamed.
More powerful, more twisted.
Utopia/Distopia, you choose.
We are an immeasurable society,
Capable of individual self-representation,
Be it on political, religious or moral grounds.
We have a language,
We have a culture.
We are the users,
No longer will we be used.
Is that not fair, humane even?
Your governments hold no sway here.
This place is our domain.
Where even a single being can make a change.
-Lines One and Two from A Declaration of the Independence of Cyberspace by John Perry Barlow.
Even though we're worlds apart
Even though I think you're too crazy
I still find myself smiling at you on the telly
Laughing your heart out over the silliest things
I never know what colour your hair nor nails will be
The tight slacks and nose-ring you love so much
I would certainly curl my lips and pull a frown
When I Contrast those with my shirt and tie
Your love for life just shines through
One look at you and the world's a nicer place
It's people like you who make others smile
That deserve to be happy contented and blessed
What I see is what you show the world
I don't know what goes on behind the lights
I don't know how you are when you're alone
I don't know if you ever carry a surly look
I sometimes think it would be nice to see you
Without the leggings, the painted nails, the crazy hair
But then I also think I don't want to
So I can always smile when I see you :)
Author. Nothing his radar
Escapes. All things he knows,
Even the wind that blows.
All gods ere him stoop, bowing
Together to the majesty in
Heaven's realm. Great his manifold
Wonders. Excellent every craft
And work of his hand. The world
Whole waltz upon his golden cart.
Man, the opus of his creation:
The only in his image cast.
Unequalled in form and fashion--
From his first to his last.
Nought exits that was uncreated;
Nonfictional be the Genesis' account.
Scores of theories scientists great invented--
All, Scripture and faith, does discount.
In awe stand: the Alpha hail; laud the Omega.
on nights like these we forgot the work of love
and loosed the chains that tied our hands to our hearts
we jumped and groaned in the rough outline of satire
that left us rolling among the sweet aftermath of our decadence
on nights like these I found my brothers
because no one is closer than troops before battle
and afterwards we were each other's father and son
because we fought like our hand was forced and maybe it was
on nights like these it was all for the boys
for the past we invented and the future we never believed
the world had died and we toasted it with cheap wine
we laughed like animals at jokes beyond men
It all began as an observation,
a mere innocent study,
to watch people in cars,
First, the tired workers,
who glared and stared in the road in front,
who slumped in their seats,
who held the steering wheels in a glum manner,
who had dark circles in their eyes,
who had cans of beers at the back seat,
tired, weary, drained, exhausted,spent.
The cheeky children,
who yelled at their siblings,
who wrestled with siblings,
who sat listening to lectures,
who texted with their phones,
who went tippy tappy with their laptops,
who ignored the world; reading,
innocent, busy adolescents.
Of course, there are mothers,
who glance at their sleepy children every few minutes,
who smile at their babies dotingly,
who gave loud lectures to kids,
who smoked cigars,
who was on the phone,o was just driving ahead,
loving, fussy, unleisured.
There were the out-going,
who head-banged furiously to booming music,
who sang aloud to radio,
who chatted enthusiasticly with passengers,
who smiled the whole way through the journey,
who stuck their hands out to feel the wind,
who had nothing to worry about,
free, wonderful, liberated, loose.
Also, some were fretful,
who needed to visit hospitals,
who had their heart broken,
who got rejected at interviews,
who lost someone,
who is obviously in anxiety, who were simply drunk,
worrysome, tired, sad.
And then there's me,
who had nothing better to do,
than to watch and observe,
and felt many things should be changed,
On the Outside Looking In
How sad it is when brave heart meets mad assassin!
On day lit street,
How cruel it is,
When daylight spreads her stunning wrap as shroud,
Tragic life lost!
Let hell have no mercy on their vile souls,
Fire fed incubus,
Community relations busted,
As two rampaged alone,
Dancing with devils,
Religion whirls in chaos,
Solution zero, not grounded,
Crucify others with tongue alone,
Here I sit and ask that all this evil ends,
I know that it's impossible to have a world of friends!
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
how is it that life goes on?
the sun keeps rising and setting,
people continue their busy routines
nothing has happened.
but today you have stopped loving me,
how can strangers not see it is the end!
how is the sorrow in my eyes not enough to make the world stop turning?
how is the immense hole in my stomach not big enough to make the waves stop crashing against the shore?
how can I go on, if no one has even noticed my heart is so completely broken.
how do I eat or sleep, knowing you no longer want me?
how can i go on if no one has even noticed something's wrong.