This person has a headache,
Another’s got the flu,
Someone has a broken heart,
The other’s got a bruise.
She’s got a paper cut,
He has many scars,
Their *** is really boring,
Some dude stole the car.
One guy’s got an ache,
One girl's got a pain,
“Doctor, please prescribe us something,
strong enough to fry our brains!”
Everyone has a problem,
In our mind or on our skin.
When did life become the game
that only pills can win?
Jun 9, 2021
Jun 9, 2021 at 5:04 PM UTC
If you show me a ripple,
I'll paint you the sea,
Give me one seed,
I'll plant you ten tree,
Take a box of nails,
I'll build you a home,
With one twig, somehow,
I'll keep you warm.
Feb 26, 2021
Feb 26, 2021 at 3:26 AM UTC
I kept staring;
She stared in return.
When I blinked, she blinked right back --
delayed, but twice as hard;
the same, but different.
Stood slouched —
almost hunched over.
She wore the same outfit as I,
but it didn't seem to fit her the same.
I tucked my shirt into my trousers,
she did the same. It looked better on me
than it did her.
Her hair was tangled.
I could tell because it looked just like
mine used to. Hers was more voluptuous than
mine ever was. I could almost hear her speaking,
like telepathy. But her voice sounded different,
deeper, more pronounced --
I couldn't put a finger on where I recognized it.
She didn't say anything in particular;
it was as if she didn't say words at all.
The way she mumbled sounded different --
almost foreign.
It was soothing, almost refreshing to hear,
because somehow I understood her.
Her face was pointed like a soft mountain top.
She looked almost...
disappointed when I noticed. Nose fairly flat —
Mine had a small bump. Her lips were uneven,
showing gums when she faked a smile;
I never opened my mouth to grin, it was unbecoming.
Her forehead was long and wide,
big enough for two brains --
I bet she's smarter than I am.
I noticed she was tired — I was tired, too.
My eyes are blue. Hers were grey,
similar to the sky when it rained —
almost like it was waiting for a rainbow.
I lifted my hand to touch hers,
she did the same right after. I could feel
the warmth of her hand on mine. It felt as if
she was a long-lost sister, someone
I hadn't seen in a long time.
An instant connection.
I don't remember ever meeting her, but
it was like I knew everything about her.
We let go at the same time.
She became a stranger again.
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 7:18 PM UTC
We see things that other females
don’t pay a tuppence to.
Like a half-burned cigarette tail,
Your osculation of deep, dense rouge—
A secret trusted only by two.
With our own hands, we mimic time
And manipulate the world you once knew.
Falling in love with a writer is a faulty design.
To your heart, we assail
With words plunked to a tune;
In your soul, with great force, we impale.
From a love-front angle of view
You might feel a tad misconstrued,
like a poorly mixed cocktail.
Ricochet from baseline to fault line,
But every time you pull through ‘cause you knew,
That falling in love with a writer is a broken design.
When we close our eyes and slowly inhale;
We hear the laughter of a family in an empty room
And unveil the retold, recycled tales.
Picturing why the dust rests less heavily on one broom,
And can smell the meal Ma cooked when they came home from school.
From the underworld and past the skyline,
We scour everything down to its last detail.
Falling in love with a writer is a grueling design.
To us, your eyes flourish like flowers in June
With lips– silky like cabernet wine.
And although sometimes we forget to say we love you,
Remember that falling in love with a writer can be a beautiful design.
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 7:17 PM UTC
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.
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 7:13 PM UTC
She thinks he hung the moon.
A princess with her shining knight
In love, she fell, with him so soon.
As he proclaimed her beautiful, she swoons.
He stands in black; she walks in white
She thinks he hung the moon.
Pinot grigio in crystal poured by noon;
He reads to her in the yellow sunlight -
In love, she fell, with him so soon.
By night, he has her wrapped in a cocoon
Fire ablaze, she clenches his arms so tight
She thinks he hung the moon.
By morning, it’s their honeymoon
He kisses her hard with all his might
In love, she fell, with him so soon.
And then, by the end of June,
Inside her something stirs, a delight
She knows he hung the moon,
In love, she fell, strongly with him so soon.
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
As the sun fell,
her eyes glistened like many sunsets
filled with wonder and adventure -
two pools of never-ending light
reflecting in the movement of colors.
As the moon rose beyond the horizon,
it left her eyes twinkling like stars.
On even the coldest night,
she couldn't see the warmth, the magic,
her eyes gave the world as she gazed upon the landscapes of life as it slowly passed her by.
Jul 29, 2016
Jul 29, 2016 at 2:19 PM UTC
Like the moon, her eyes glisten in the midnight garden
Daisies delicate in the soft breeze by her feet
Fire roars in her heart, but stays frozen to the touch
Lips like pink roses in the spring
The clouds lay in wait for a storm - she gazes
From a million miles away, stars fluoresce her gloomy skies
Aids her wandering mind to see the beauty of the night
A small nose points up as she watches
Birds soar swiftly to their nests for safety
At her feet, rodents scurry home to avoid their dark predators
The hours draw long
She stands still as the world continues to shift around her.
Gloomy skies shift to blue
Her skin warms, lips like dark wine
Daisies turn towards the rising sun
The once glistening eyes ‘come dull, her heart to stone
Stars vanish in the light, clouds fade away
Her mind stays put just as her feet
The once midnight garden becomes a field of infertility
Her dreams gone like the moonlit skies
She waits for night again.
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 1:21 PM UTC
"If I could go back,
and knew what I know,
I'd change a few things,
and shake up the flow.
I might go to class,
be where I should be,
Say and wear what I wish,
And only be me.
Ignore the ignorant,
hold dearest friends close,
Respect authority,
see where it goes.
Have love and compassion,
a watchful mind,
Keep ears wide open,
and always be kind.
Harbour a strong heart,
let others be shared,
Make sure I remind them,
that I always care(d).
So, if I could go back,
and knew what I know,
I might change a few things,
and see where it goes."
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC