Janna_Anderson - Hello Poetry

Give me the bullet The one that was meant for her Let the wind shift and the shooters aim be off Let me feel it- I don't know where it is but I can see the ground rushing to me, Or am I falling? Give me my last moments A third person movie view of me on the ground and the chaos around Give me the overwhelming feelings of the cold floor Warmblood Stiff hands and pain. the taste of my own blood The smell of it too The view of the floor tiles and how my blood spreads smoothly over it And finally, the sounds of screams and footsteps before it all fades. Give me the first time my parents know. The way the phone rings hours later They don’t pick up the first time Give me the look on their face Give me tears so frequent and heavy that the earth shakes Give me a play by play of the conversation And then tell me who you will tell next. Give me the first time my siblings know A phone call to the oldest who lives far away And a proper explanation the younger three as to why they found mommy and daddy crying. Give me a way to tell them who gets what Lava lamp to Jack The ceramic faerie collection o Ada And the stuffed animals to Reid. Give me time To watch the news reports that ant say my name To look at my friend and how they decide to grieve To read the celebrity sympathies, the ‘Thoughts and prayers are with the family” and the paper signs that rest at my candlelight vigil Give me the time to watch my funeral Poster boards with pictures that stop at 16 A Eulogy given by a stranger because my family can’t do it justice while they cry. A procession of people in black that absorbs the sun Flower tosses and final farewells And a fleeting look at the marble grave the say RIP Give the fuure About a month or so when the spotlight of American pity and attention swivels to the next thing And give the vision of a man at the library of congress who pulls out the Bill of Rights and writes my name next to thousands of others under a title of “Kids Killed to soon”

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Oct 16, 2018

Oct 16, 2018 at 11:09 PM UTC

Janna_Anderson

Give Me

Give me the bullet The one that was meant for her Let the wind shift and the shooters aim be off Let me feel it- I don't know where it is but I can see the ground rushing to me, Or am I falling? Give me my last moments A third person movie view of me on the ground and the chaos around Give me the overwhelming feelings of the cold floor Warmblood Stiff hands and pain. the taste of my own blood The smell of it too The view of the floor tiles and how my blood spreads smoothly over it And finally, the sounds of screams and footsteps before it all fades. Give me the first time my parents know. The way the phone rings hours later They don’t pick up the first time Give me the look on their face Give me tears so frequent and heavy that the earth shakes Give me a play by play of the conversation And then tell me who you will tell next. Give me the first time my siblings know A phone call to the oldest who lives far away And a proper explanation the younger three as to why they found mommy and daddy crying. Give me a way to tell them who gets what Lava lamp to Jack The ceramic faerie collection o Ada And the stuffed animals to Reid. Give me time To watch the news reports that ant say my name To look at my friend and how they decide to grieve To read the celebrity sympathies, the ‘Thoughts and prayers are with the family” and the paper signs that rest at my candlelight vigil Give me the time to watch my funeral Poster boards with pictures that stop at 16 A Eulogy given by a stranger because my family can’t do it justice while they cry. A procession of people in black that absorbs the sun Flower tosses and final farewells And a fleeting look at the marble grave the say RIP Give the fuure About a month or so when the spotlight of American pity and attention swivels to the next thing And give the vision of a man at the library of congress who pulls out the Bill of Rights and writes my name next to thousands of others under a title of “Kids Killed to soon”

42

Sitting at the desk where so many white men have sat. Sitting as the rats pick up their bats, ready to bash. Throwing trash about to clash all because she didn't win a sash that said she was feminine enough to be liked But masculine enough to be respected. She is better than expected. she connected, Corrected and directed this country in their time of need. And I need her! We Need her! I want to be Her. But if I cannot be her at least I would like to see her. Lips red from where she ****** the competition dry Arm strong from where she pulled herself out of the grave she was born in. And when she pulls herself to that podium? That is the new morning. And while the rats are mourning The age of American women will be dawning! She will be Drawn in a glorious light in the temples of women's minds. And she will not just be kind But ruthless/\ be soft And still impenetrable like steel Not be pretty. But absolutely gorgeous And we will call her Diana because a Ruthless, toothless Amazonian Wonder woman she is. The president? Yeah you can call her Madam because no longer is she the biblical white man Adam And Madam president? Will be no longer a phantom. Because just like Christine she only appears real to me. Madam has a nice ring to I could sing to it Praise to it. Bathe to it And while a phantom she will no longer be She is an angle of music to me. And when my daydreams are no longer daydreams But every woman's wet dream become a reality. I just hope everyone understands she didn't get here for free. She wasn't dining with the queen at high tea. She was using the breaststroke to cross the black sea All to become the barbie you and me need to see. The strong barbie The I don't take no **** barbie No longer coy No longer submissive I’ll be a ***** if I have to Barbie. Unlike the African queen Cleopatra She will not be bit. That will not be the end of it. Madam President I could get used to it.

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Feb 9, 2018

Feb 9, 2018 at 11:34 AM UTC

Janna_Anderson

Madam President

Sitting at the desk where so many white men have sat. Sitting as the rats pick up their bats, ready to bash. Throwing trash about to clash all because she didn't win a sash that said she was feminine enough to be liked But masculine enough to be respected. She is better than expected. she connected, Corrected and directed this country in their time of need. And I need her! We Need her! I want to be Her. But if I cannot be her at least I would like to see her. Lips red from where she ****** the competition dry Arm strong from where she pulled herself out of the grave she was born in. And when she pulls herself to that podium? That is the new morning. And while the rats are mourning The age of American women will be dawning! She will be Drawn in a glorious light in the temples of women's minds. And she will not just be kind But ruthless/\ be soft And still impenetrable like steel Not be pretty. But absolutely gorgeous And we will call her Diana because a Ruthless, toothless Amazonian Wonder woman she is. The president? Yeah you can call her Madam because no longer is she the biblical white man Adam And Madam president? Will be no longer a phantom. Because just like Christine she only appears real to me. Madam has a nice ring to I could sing to it Praise to it. Bathe to it And while a phantom she will no longer be She is an angle of music to me. And when my daydreams are no longer daydreams But every woman's wet dream become a reality. I just hope everyone understands she didn't get here for free. She wasn't dining with the queen at high tea. She was using the breaststroke to cross the black sea All to become the barbie you and me need to see. The strong barbie The I don't take no **** barbie No longer coy No longer submissive I’ll be a ***** if I have to Barbie. Unlike the African queen Cleopatra She will not be bit. That will not be the end of it. Madam President I could get used to it.

48

The literal worst. Some might say Nixon- the criminal in charge Martin for the tear he let the native’s tread Hoover for the shanty towns that rose Fillmore who let the escaped and finally free be returned to captivity. John Taylor the whig who wasn't a whig but manifested his Ideas in us going west. Warren G Harding and the Affairs James Buchanan who started the war. But the worst were the ones who never got to be. The literal worst because I got to see a world that will remain unknown to me. And they are: Jessie Charlene Victoria and Shirley Belva Elaine Carol ‘n Patsy and Cynthia McKinney And who can forget Joan Jett Blakk the black Drag Queen Because Despite what the winners want you to think WE do not look like James Buchanan! Warren Harding! John Taylor and all the other men who have persisted to reign. And still, we sit here and watch as all other make strides in the field we claim to have created. Brazil Germany India Israel Iceland Ireland Liberia Norway Pakistan The Philippines Sri Lanka South Korea And the UK I hope I live long enough to see America rise to the silent challenge of its peers. To see a woman at the podium To see a woman at the desk. To see The black woman The trans woman The bisexual woman The old woman The unmarried, unmothered woman The minority woman The asexual woman The not so average American woman woman. The bleeding woman.

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Feb 9, 2018

Feb 9, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC

Janna_Anderson

The Literal Worst

The literal worst. Some might say Nixon- the criminal in charge Martin for the tear he let the native’s tread Hoover for the shanty towns that rose Fillmore who let the escaped and finally free be returned to captivity. John Taylor the whig who wasn't a whig but manifested his Ideas in us going west. Warren G Harding and the Affairs James Buchanan who started the war. But the worst were the ones who never got to be. The literal worst because I got to see a world that will remain unknown to me. And they are: Jessie Charlene Victoria and Shirley Belva Elaine Carol ‘n Patsy and Cynthia McKinney And who can forget Joan Jett Blakk the black Drag Queen Because Despite what the winners want you to think WE do not look like James Buchanan! Warren Harding! John Taylor and all the other men who have persisted to reign. And still, we sit here and watch as all other make strides in the field we claim to have created. Brazil Germany India Israel Iceland Ireland Liberia Norway Pakistan The Philippines Sri Lanka South Korea And the UK I hope I live long enough to see America rise to the silent challenge of its peers. To see a woman at the podium To see a woman at the desk. To see The black woman The trans woman The bisexual woman The old woman The unmarried, unmothered woman The minority woman The asexual woman The not so average American woman woman. The bleeding woman.

49

I **** her slowly as I whisper I love you I step upon the pretty tresses and tear the hair out with my boots. She basks in the sunshine only to let me blow smoke in her face. She who lets me cut her down with one fell swoop. She who gives endlessly and cries quietly because she did so. She who once stood tall but now only sits for me. I Destroy And she still sits still. I have ****** her dry of all things living. I praise her in public but tear out her hair in the dark. She wears things on her neck not because they are pretty but because of where my teeth have left marks because she has been far too kind to say no. And when she has had enough I use my kisses to bring her back in. Hold her so tight she feels like she's burning alive. Hurricanes in her eyes but her mouth is desert dry. I stack stone on her chest just to see how long until she doesnt breath. I drill my finger in her skin looking for valuables within. She swallows the poison I feed. I have never felt as good as when I see the mix of colors from bruised on her neck, arms and shoulder Both old and new. And when my Libido takes hold. She has nowhere to go despite her saying no. I **** the most important parts of her with my burning heat And when my burning is unbearable I will set her on fire just to see it. I tear at her roots with my huge hands ignoring the painful way she screams. Scratch her skin with my nails until my fingernails are always red and never clean. I inject her with chemical I make and use just so she's worth more to me. I starve her so there's more for me. And when her eyes silently plea my sneer is all she’ll see. Her eyes filled with the whimpers and screams I force her to suppress and as I stare at her from above my cold hand around her neck I ignore them. I build temples out of her skin just to tear them down again Once there was innocence in the way I hurt her but now I know. I know what I do And I do it anyway. And when she finally dies and people point to me i'll scratch my head and point the other way. Even though I know her death will be the death of me.

0

Dec 28, 2017

Dec 28, 2017 at 7:04 PM UTC

Janna_Anderson

Abusive

I **** her slowly as I whisper I love you I step upon the pretty tresses and tear the hair out with my boots. She basks in the sunshine only to let me blow smoke in her face. She who lets me cut her down with one fell swoop. She who gives endlessly and cries quietly because she did so. She who once stood tall but now only sits for me. I Destroy And she still sits still. I have ****** her dry of all things living. I praise her in public but tear out her hair in the dark. She wears things on her neck not because they are pretty but because of where my teeth have left marks because she has been far too kind to say no. And when she has had enough I use my kisses to bring her back in. Hold her so tight she feels like she's burning alive. Hurricanes in her eyes but her mouth is desert dry. I stack stone on her chest just to see how long until she doesnt breath. I drill my finger in her skin looking for valuables within. She swallows the poison I feed. I have never felt as good as when I see the mix of colors from bruised on her neck, arms and shoulder Both old and new. And when my Libido takes hold. She has nowhere to go despite her saying no. I **** the most important parts of her with my burning heat And when my burning is unbearable I will set her on fire just to see it. I tear at her roots with my huge hands ignoring the painful way she screams. Scratch her skin with my nails until my fingernails are always red and never clean. I inject her with chemical I make and use just so she's worth more to me. I starve her so there's more for me. And when her eyes silently plea my sneer is all she’ll see. Her eyes filled with the whimpers and screams I force her to suppress and as I stare at her from above my cold hand around her neck I ignore them. I build temples out of her skin just to tear them down again Once there was innocence in the way I hurt her but now I know. I know what I do And I do it anyway. And when she finally dies and people point to me i'll scratch my head and point the other way. Even though I know her death will be the death of me.

36

Her name was Seraphina. And like a storm overtaking a small boat on the sea, I was swept away with love and never found again. She was named after a queen, I was told. I didn't doubt it once. Mesmerising would be far too simple of a word to describe her the way she looked the way she moved the way she felt. She was stronger than anyone I had known! And always was safe and steady Her lines and curves were dark and elegant like that of an Angel. Hair hanging in thick white braids long past her back. She was mine from the moment I saw her, I started upon her as nothing more than one of the many, running and helping her as we journeyed. But when her previous Captain died, I took up post and we have been inseparable since. I took vows when I got her that I would keep her safe and clean and steer her out of harm's way. And I have kept my vows to this day. It wasn't until a storm we saw that real worry set in, I stayed close and rubbed her tenderly as the bow of her began to dip. The waves were high And we were soaring through dark clouds Before crashing back down again. Upon a rocky road we rode together, waiting for the storm to end. Two days it lasted and I clung to her wet and scared as I saw men tossed from side to side. When we came out the last two living with a rainbow in the sky. I praised her to all who would listen telling them of how my Seraphina saved me from the torment of the sky. And still, ten years since that storm came crashing we are both still here and I retelling about how her and I survived and came out as one, A ship and her Captain alive.

0

Dec 23, 2017

Dec 23, 2017 at 3:33 PM UTC

Janna_Anderson

Seraphina

Her name was Seraphina. And like a storm overtaking a small boat on the sea, I was swept away with love and never found again. She was named after a queen, I was told. I didn't doubt it once. Mesmerising would be far too simple of a word to describe her the way she looked the way she moved the way she felt. She was stronger than anyone I had known! And always was safe and steady Her lines and curves were dark and elegant like that of an Angel. Hair hanging in thick white braids long past her back. She was mine from the moment I saw her, I started upon her as nothing more than one of the many, running and helping her as we journeyed. But when her previous Captain died, I took up post and we have been inseparable since. I took vows when I got her that I would keep her safe and clean and steer her out of harm's way. And I have kept my vows to this day. It wasn't until a storm we saw that real worry set in, I stayed close and rubbed her tenderly as the bow of her began to dip. The waves were high And we were soaring through dark clouds Before crashing back down again. Upon a rocky road we rode together, waiting for the storm to end. Two days it lasted and I clung to her wet and scared as I saw men tossed from side to side. When we came out the last two living with a rainbow in the sky. I praised her to all who would listen telling them of how my Seraphina saved me from the torment of the sky. And still, ten years since that storm came crashing we are both still here and I retelling about how her and I survived and came out as one, A ship and her Captain alive.

26

I am Lucky some would say. To have so many parents that care for me all day, And yet Luck I do Not feel. Why? Why do I not feel Luck that so many care? Caring does no good when they aren't really there. They look with eyes but do not see! Do not see the truth! The Truth in me. My man has been trained in the human brain but mine he cannot see? He refused to see Spend his days and night with those who have symptoms just like me. Still refused to see. And now that my brain is calm and my eyes don't any longer linger on kitchen knives. Now that a smile easy. Now that a class is easy to pass Now that my internal monologue doesn't have me doling out each of my possessions to my siblings. Now that I don't think of how That note, YES That Note! Will read. Still, he persists And I don't know why. Is he blind to the previous ailments? Or is Blackness all he wants to see?

0

Dec 22, 2017

Dec 22, 2017 at 11:59 AM UTC

Janna_Anderson

Lucky

I am Lucky some would say. To have so many parents that care for me all day, And yet Luck I do Not feel. Why? Why do I not feel Luck that so many care? Caring does no good when they aren't really there. They look with eyes but do not see! Do not see the truth! The Truth in me. My man has been trained in the human brain but mine he cannot see? He refused to see Spend his days and night with those who have symptoms just like me. Still refused to see. And now that my brain is calm and my eyes don't any longer linger on kitchen knives. Now that a smile easy. Now that a class is easy to pass Now that my internal monologue doesn't have me doling out each of my possessions to my siblings. Now that I don't think of how That note, YES That Note! Will read. Still, he persists And I don't know why. Is he blind to the previous ailments? Or is Blackness all he wants to see?

25

It was created for one purpose To hit where its brothers had landed And stay But as it was drifting Aimlessly down It saw you It saw your smile Heard you laugh Saw the completely original uniqueness of you. An in that moment its heart burst and rapidly regrew With a new purpose in mind. To touch you, So as it drifted down it swayed from its brothers hoping to find you. It wiggled and squirmed and moved all about Until it finally landed On your nose As I hugged your red nose did you hear it? What it whispered to you? I did I heard the soft ‘I love you’ Before its grip on you faded and melted away. The sweet soft suicide of a snowflake It certainly wasn't the first to fall in love with you, And it won't be the last.

0

Dec 22, 2017

Dec 22, 2017 at 11:51 AM UTC

Janna_Anderson

Suicide of A snowflake

It was created for one purpose To hit where its brothers had landed And stay But as it was drifting Aimlessly down It saw you It saw your smile Heard you laugh Saw the completely original uniqueness of you. An in that moment its heart burst and rapidly regrew With a new purpose in mind. To touch you, So as it drifted down it swayed from its brothers hoping to find you. It wiggled and squirmed and moved all about Until it finally landed On your nose As I hugged your red nose did you hear it? What it whispered to you? I did I heard the soft ‘I love you’ Before its grip on you faded and melted away. The sweet soft suicide of a snowflake It certainly wasn't the first to fall in love with you, And it won't be the last.

23