RA: Favorites

Apr 2014 RA

Theia Gwen

I must be a *******
For falling in love with you
And you must also be a *******
For loving me too

Of all the types of self harm
You were the sweetest
And when I wanted to shut everyone out
You were my one weakness

And you must be a *******
For trying to pick up broken glass
But I am not a sadist and I won't let you
Hurt yourself whenever I crash

Apr 2014 RA

Living And Loving A Lie

Apr 2014 RA

Theia Gwen

Living And Loving A Lie

"Do you have a boyfriend?"
A family member would ask
I suppressed a smile thinking of you
"No" I'd reply, my face a mask

"Mommy, why are they holding hands?"
A little girl would want to know
I'd pull my hand away from yours
And manage a timid "Hello"

"You're obviously in love"
A friend of mine took note of my bliss
I finally admit it but changed pronouns
Turning every "her" into a "him"

"I'm bisexual and dating a girl"
I'd tell the mirror 1,000 times
Getting the courage to tell my parents
Then turning around and changing my mind

"Are you ashamed of us?"
She'd ask tears welling in her eyes
"No" I'd hug her close because it was true
I was only ashamed of myself and my disguise

Another poem about that LGBT love story I'm writing. Has nothing to do with me or my life. :)

Apr 2014 RA

Arbeit Macht Frei

Apr 2014 RA

Theia Gwen

Arbeit Macht Frei

We're all stuck
In this panopticon
They promise us
Work will make us free
But they've lied about everything
So far
In the ***** ghettoes
Death was a fickle friend
My mom held me tight
And told me that everything
Would be just fine
But her last intake of breath
Was a poison
That overtook her lungs
And everything
Is not fine
And I'm starting to wonder
What freedom are they promising
It's ironic that our work should not
Make us free from these camps
But make us free from life

My class is reading Night by Ellie Wiesel in English and had a discussion about irony and the Auschwitz's sign and I got this idea.

Apr 2014 RA

The Tom Riddle Theory

Apr 2014 RA

J

The Tom Riddle Theory

Why is hellopoetry.com black and white? I've always wondered about this... why my colorful photographs are required to travel back in time. How does this effect the poetry in any way, shape, or form? But I understand the wisdom of this design now. And it sets a great metaphor for all of the people of the pen involved in this truly noble motion, this secret society for people with passion, talent, and troubled minds and souls. Hello Poetry is black and white not because it has to be monochromatic and modern, but because us poets fill these pages with enough inovativeness and color already with our words, ideas, thoughts, songs, senryus, ballads, heartbreaks, insecurities, that adding literal color to this website would be overwhelming. These soft undertones of gray, black, and white may be considered drab and depressing to some, but to us poets it represents timelessness. And this is probably why we are all here. Hourly, daily, weekly, monthly, or even yearly publishing poems. Because we all know we are not going to live forever, and we are so entirely insignificant in the broad scheme of things and of the universe itself, that it is a bit comforting and helpful to have this coping mechanism or soft blankie to calm our fears, that this literature we write, however insignificant it may be, is absolutley permanent. And that maybe someday it will be remembered so a small bit of us may live on. Tom Riddle knew the needs and wants of man kind before anybody else realized it. Maybe he was just trying to cope with the fact that he is insignificant. These poems are all our Horcruxes so *viveamus per camenam nostram.

^^^let us live through our poetry

Apr 2014 RA

Thoughts During Church

Apr 2014 RA

Theia Gwen

Thoughts During Church

I will drown out
Their ignorance
With our love

And I will down
The bread and grape juice
Thinking only of us
Drinking champagne

And as the pastor preaches
I will smile, not frown
Because all I'll hear are your sweet
"I love you's" on repeat

And I'll perk up
When I hear the world "angel"
Because I may be an atheist
And thought I have no God,
I have you
And you're **** close
To an angel

And I will stand
When the band begins to play
Because I'll be thinking of you
Strumming your guitar
Because you're a symphony
And you hush all cacophony

There will be no tears shed
When I leave this church pew
I'll pay no mind to the fact
That I'm surrounded by people
Who think I'm living in sin

My mom thinks she's "curing"
My love for you
As I radiate in church
But it's only because I'm thinking
Of that girl with blue hair
Who's there for me
When God isn't
And kisses my lips
In public
And her gray eyes
Full of life
Block out any ugly stares
When people look at us
They see two girls kissing
But I see two humans
Deep in love
But apparently it's sin
Just because you're the same gender
As me

And those people in church must think
I'm just like them
And I suppose we at least have one thing
In common:
We'd both fight for our love

I'm writing a LGBT love story about two girls and one of the girl's, Britney comes from a deeply religious family and these would probably be her thoughts at church. The only way in which this about me is that I'm also an atheist who's forced to go to church and I mostly think about my boyfriend in church. I don't mean to offend anyone and I realize that not all religious people are homophobic, but if you deny that religion is holding back human rights, you're clearly wrong.

Apr 2014 RA

Remnants Of Our Love

Apr 2014 RA

Theia Gwen

Remnants Of Our Love

He always told her
He liked the way
The moonlight silhouetted her face
And she always told him
She liked the way
He held the small of her back
When they swayed

And they had a hideaway
Where they always found each other
A park on a lake called Otisco
They'd walk and hardly notice the time
Gone by
And one day
He took a pocket knife
And carved their initials
Into the bark of a dead
Tattooed tree

They came every single day
And even though it belonged
To the community,
They felt it was theirs

And the sun rose and set
As did the moon
And they took time with them
And the soles of their shoes grew old
But this remained their spot
That they would always go
And they both wished they could
Freeze time
And lie on the grass
And memorize each line
On each others face
As they were now

And the wood on that tree
Slowly decayed
And the two lover's hearts grew old
But they were still every bit in love
With this park
With each other

And that girl
Now walks through the park alone
With tears falling down her
Wrinkled face
And she never notices the stares
And that tattooed tree had fallen months ago
She's beginning to forget
The exact lines in that boys face
Or the exact way he held the small
Of her back
And nothing scares her more
So she sits at the bench
She donated to the park
With the plaque that had
Their initials engraved
In dedication to the lovers
Who loved this park
As much as they loved each other
And she longs for the day
They'll walk beside each other again
When she makes it to the Pearly Gates
Until then, she'll just put one foot
In front of the other
Getting older with her shoe's soles
Walking in the echo
Of the love she once had

I was walking in a park today and I saw a tree with a bunch of initials engraved in it and this idea just came to me.

Apr 2014 RA

Glass

Apr 2014 RA

Lily

Glass

my coffee knows me best
today I've gotten more and more
familiar                 with Bishop.

Elizabeth Bishop
and I find myself sipping hot
caffeine          for the second time today

she was addicted to alcohol
just like I am to caffeine
her glass was filled with whiskey

mine is three quarters water,
one quarter cold milk
two teaspoon of coffee,

and one of sugar.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Today I got to know a perfectionist

a woman poet
whose main feeling was of
alienation         no sense of belonging.

Fascinating      just
like
me.

April.11.2014