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Jun 2018 · 830
Patient in Waiting
DP Younginger Jun 2018
Twiddling thumbs, stiff with a wobbly fidget,

A slight tick in the present thought of the pending arrival,

A silent yawn and flare of the nostrils, day after day,

A tickle, ricocheting like twinkling stars in the black skyline,

Descending from the kneecap and shivering south like freezing raindrops falling single file down a window,

You sit; I am the passerby,

I smile; You bat an eyelash,

Wondering if I will stay constant in my path or stop to smell the floral design; a future sunk into the bud,

A past with a blooming, yet stunted growth,

A yearning to be in a field with your flower, twisting together a ladder for the bumblebee,

Awakened with the sting of tomorrow and drooling in the waiting, for the patient to cough,

I will clutch my breath until I am called into your office.
A poem about not being able to act on your future in the present moment. Feeling stuck in the now.
Jun 2018 · 421
Evergreen Vibes
DP Younginger Jun 2018
Stone walls like office buildings on a starry night,

Standing at attention, they salute to the masters of the world,

Tiny faces embedded in the grooves of each sector,

Playing stiff, as the wind pushes roughly through the evergreen seaway,

Wheels spinning continuously as you pass through communities; never ending hamlets of pine,

A silent coastline of towering majesty,

Like a segmented train, stretching miles long and dancing like a caterpillar,

Every bushel peaking over the other, knowing their role,

Waiting patiently like the caged animal, welcoming adventure with the twist of a ****,

The largest hammock of an ecosystem crying out for you to bare witness,

Whispering softly in the breeze,

Come play.
I love Colorado. 2018.6.14.
Jun 2018 · 432
The Isle of Slang
DP Younginger Jun 2018
Correcting lines,

Painting new stripes with clear coded markings,

Her curiosity is like an allergy to the heart,

Constantly craving to itch, but my reach is coming up short,

Torturing me with her innocent smile; a blushing cheek,

Eyes glowing in the direction of the teacher; an aspiring Jedi,

All I gave her was an answer,

A simple coat of honesty like armor to the Knight,

Abstractly patching together a robe of consistency,

She absorbs my words like a bubble attaching itself to another; becoming the giant,

An ever growing cloud of thought steaming fatter and fatter with the act of knowing,

I gush inside with the discovery of my own blemish to language,

My absent mind on autopilot as I glide into her turbulence,

Eyes completely stuck in this string of moments, one after the other,

I sit on my porch and wait for them to come home.
Jun 2018 · 293
DP Younginger Jun 2018
Dorothy is captivated in her own mind,

Her eyes step into a colorful illusion of a an altered universe,

An outer parallel that consists of tangerine trees and marmalade skies,

Her perspective lost in kaleidoscope vision and sugar coded mountains,

The sky is a meadow of green and the grass is an ocean of cerulean,

A second dose catches her in a flick; a motion pictured mindset,

Her eyes have completely lost focus,

Gum drop rainballs and pixie stick gravel,

She is absent minded of all that is telling,

A third hit and she disappears,

Flying through the sky, she dreams of the life of an average person,

Reality swapped with insanity,

She lives a dream and dreams what others live.
Written in a creative writing course that I took in High School.
Jun 2018 · 314
The Red Notebook
DP Younginger Jun 2018
What lurks inside this book of secrets?
A juicy tale waiting to be exposed?
A lie that finds justice?
A simple story with a complex ending?
A poem with a theme to which no one comprehends?

No one, except the narrator behind the first person speaker,
The Creator,
The mastermind behind all that follows,
Me...him...or her...who knows?
A book which holds the mysteries of my deepest ink,
A notepad with my scribbles and scrabbles written with a blank pen,
Key words and phrases that could be polar opposite of what is actuality,
Processed under a microscope of human mind and matter,

Welcome to my world,
My realm,
Where I make the rules and you play actor to attempt the follow,
A curiousity that will always force a pondering upon your solidified wonders,
A future of revealing knowledge,
A pocket watch spinning in opposite directions,

My words cannot be learned or taught,
They play with the mind and bombard every intricate thought bubble,
Digging deeper to find meaning in the mine of a premeditated stanza,

Is it a happy ending?
Is it a truent fib?
Is it a creative mixture of stories and lines?
Or would you call it a poem?
That is the bone destined to be buried indefinitely, waiting for the dog,

I chizel in this binded slate to uncover the underground,
I believe these silent dialogues are for you, to drive you crazy to unravel,
The anticipation of tearing off the wrapper to discover the gift,
It is brain boggling,
Thoughts twisting like twine around the neck,
This containment is insanity,

So you think you know my words, do you?
You can't see the dimensions existing in this plane,
This ink, this graphite, this wonder,
These perplexing strands of ideas mean nothing to you, but they feed,
I think for thought and write to feel right,
I make to believe and believe to make,

This notebook is red,
A color blended with blood and pain,
The color that stains forever,
A color with such anger to its personality,
I'm ill-tempered by the ignorant; the ignorance,
A few lines remaining and still so much left to fight for,
A never ending dotted line that trails a crescendo for all of eternity,

This poem lives for the stranger whom uncovers the mystery; a Hardy Boy,
The one whom I undoubtedly love,
The one whom comprehends my inner struggle and becomes ally to my thoughts,
She would be my dictionary,
I would be her words,
She is my pages,
I am her binding,

The reason these ideas grow from this stem through the flow of my arm,
Along my fingers,
Into my utensil,
And onto the absent surface,
The dull end of this pencil knows all,
Together, we write this novel of uncertainty,
Bleed my thoughts,
But you still will not reveal the master plan behind my words,
For this color stains and ruptures the soul,

I am crazy,
Insane in the brain,
But my desires?
Realistically bleeding,
As the stranger, you narrow your focus on this lightbulb like a fly on the wall,
Explore the mind,
Find what is so secretly kept safe,
But remember,
My thoughts...
They stain.
Written in 2008 and one of my longest poems. I remember writing it in my Spanish class, completely in my own world.
Jun 2018 · 504
I Flew Too High
DP Younginger Jun 2018
I float in the center of confusion and paranoia,
These days, all I can do is ponder in traps of thought,
These thoughts race and beat me to the finishing ribbon,
I inhale with a treacherous risk of it being my last,
I must part from you,
You hold dear to my heart, but my heart can't succumb to your cancer,
It's killing me inside to know you're always around,
Just give me a few days with my feet on the ground,
Soon, we will fly high together again,
But today, I must knot this leash to the leveled Earth,
It's just not the same anymore,
I can't be alone with your envious smile,
You take me to places I do not wish to follow,
My hopes and dreams are fading away with your evaporating smoke,
You tell me to sore through the clouds, but I stay grounded to this planet by my morals,
What used to feel right, now feels so wrong,
Down seems to be up and life is surely turning over,
You're pulling me into the surface like a gel conforming to its surrounding plane,
It is my fault for loosening the grip,
You're gone now,
I have given up on you,
I've left town, but I'll return when it is convinient,
Just keep flying high like you do and I will meet you at the podium,
This is a race,
But, last place finishes first,
Be safe,
Be smart,
Don't fly too high...
Written in 2010. In the library at Orange High School.
May 2018 · 531
DP Younginger May 2018
The girl who catches the eye, like fireflies in the fog,

A majestic mountain, towering over my every thought with clouds of tomorrow,

Fingers like feathers, tickling my heart with a few short strokes,

A smile so free, teeth like ivory keys shining in song, a tongue giving directions,

Unbelievably shadowed by immense rays of fascination, I can't look around her,

So innocent and strong, a face solid with concrete dimples, weighing the world down with her happiness,

Loves me and I her, eyes like sparkling diamonds, hoping that I can be her jeweler, selling my love at half price,

Looks at me with this fierce growl and I stare back with prey-like tendencies,

Is more amazing than a soft winter blizzard, quietly falling over and over again, for me,

First poem written in 2018. Very simple with no edit.
May 2018 · 321
DP Younginger May 2018
Watch closely as I construct my Monday forecast,
I see clouds shifting this way with bags under its eyes,
A rainy day is approaching,
It's been summer for over a year,
It's been gloomy at times,
I've had the occasional sprinkle,
But, there is a storm headed this direction,

You see, it didn't drizzle that day,
Stuck in a drought, I crave the waters of the sky,
But when you expect things to happen, the head is rotated counter clockwise,
I sit and wait, way too much,
My love used to say that,
The queued are the *******, your patience will let you down like tears from the sky,
I feel her words with every innuendo of new days to come,

They are glorious dreams to rocket a brain into space,
But, what goes up must come down eventually...right?
I tried to think the worst, but when the tears slid down her cheeks, my heart lurched,
It rose with a recharged happiness that I have never felt before,
Once again, her first words spitting "I can't",
Poking a hole in my overinflated pumper, the juice leaks into my stomach,
A wounded gut,
She is always right,
This heart was floating so high, but with a scattered like a runaway balloon,

You love em',
You hate em',
But hating them is a quick glance into what is next,
Live for now,
Love later,
Conquer your ridiculous hopes,
And those pesky expectations.
May 2018 · 272
Pick or Choose
DP Younginger May 2018
There is a decision to be made,
There is a future,
There is a past,
There is a "so-so" chance at happiness,
Behind door number one is your future,
Door two contains some pain, but with a hint of pleasure.

What would you miss most?
A place to laugh like no one is watching?
Or a place to shred the moment and skate passed your problems?
This is the riddle that hides the key to the door of your choosing,
Think hard,
Thoughts can be a teacher in the dark.

Door one is Blue,
Door two is Black,
Choose between your favorite colors,
You've got a tough decision to make, my darling,
Secure your dusty pencil shavings,
Switch to ink if you must,
Do you enjoy being humid when the frost blows?
Cold palms when the heat rises?
The past is freezing in the shaded fog,
The future is boiling with steam-filled bubbles.

Door two is in your future if your mind stutters at the thought of "I love you",
I'll tell you something simplistic,
Door two is indestructible to everyone, except yourself,
Door one is to be shaved into crumbs of sawdust, once your decision turns,
There is no going back and those shredded pieces of entry can never be referbrished,
Read the fine print,
If door one becomes door two,
You lose the door that dissipates into nothing,
You can keep the fire burning with consistent attention,
When it defuses, it is like scraping a burnt match,
Never to be utilized again,
You can't manage a roaring fire in the pouring rain.

So here you stand,
Two doors,
A 50-50 chance,
Don't do damage to your dome,
Follow your hearty wishes and dreams,
That is what your future holds,
Live it,
Love it,
Idolize it,
Door one lives on,
Door two fades to black,
No thought,
No hesitation,
You win,
He loses,
I prevail.
Written in winter of 2008. Slightly edited in 2018.
May 2018 · 395
Cornered Darkness
DP Younginger May 2018
There is a boy,
A presence stumbled upon in the shadows,
He hides his face to conceal his identity,
I see his flaws, but no one points at them and laughs,
He is surrounded by rusty chairs and a cloud of darkness,

He does not speak.
He does not think.
He simply stares at the world.

An empty dreamer with all intentions of barking,
He wants me,
I see him,
But my soul is engraved for another,
This boy,

I want to know what he desires.
I want to know if he stares at me for a "hello".
I want his attention.

The next day, he is gone,
A glimpse of his presence is captured, but not saved,
A figure of darkness and a corner of loneliness,
Shaded patterns of sadness echo in my senses,
Silently pushing me towards the abyss,

A face of fade.
A smile so still.
A beautiful soul trapped beneath a blank, stern, and silent scope.

I still want to know what he thinks,
My future is set in place, but is watched by the dark,
This boy needs light,
He needs a guardian,
To graduate with a wing of gold,

This foggy corner represents a relationship.
This boy signifies change.
This darkness is my unhappiness.

A narrative poem broken down into three sentences,
But do not be blind to the objective,
The words beneath the cracks,
I write about a boy,
A second image pierces my periferells,

On the left, is love.
On the right, is curiousity.
On the real, curiousity kills the cat.

I killed the boy,
I shot his nerves, point blank, with the roll of my eyes,
I just need attention,
I need constant attraction,
I adore his love,
I cherish my love for him,
Engraved in darkness,
Altered by a corner,
Continuous attention feeds my emptiness,
Fade away,
Into my dark corner.
Written in Fall of 2008. Recently edited. From the perspective of "my love". The font from "Altered by a corner" to "Into my dark corner" should gradually decrease in font size, but I could not edit in that way.
May 2018 · 211
Lost and Found
DP Younginger May 2018
I can't tell you enough,
How it brought me to tears,
Looking deep into your eyes.
I saw you. And I felt you, seeing me too.
Not just my blue eyes or white skin or blonde hair.
You saw into my soul.
My roots.
For my Káritta.
May 2018 · 331
Lift Your Chin
DP Younginger May 2018
You ponder alone in darkness,
Disgracing your personal image is an uncontrollable pleasure,
Don't hurt,
Don't feel,
Cleanse your inner complection clear of unhappiness,
I'm here for you,
Lift your chin.

Let me kiss those seeping tears,
You cry when you feel happy,
A feeling new to your emotions,
Let it bleed through and stain,
Lift your chin.

Let me love you, forever,
I'll protect you from these unidentified flying emotions,
I can be your self-control,
Only letting love, happiness, and joy into our house,
Lift your chin.

I love you,
Nothing else matters,
I can be your only friend if it makes you warm on winter days,
Don't be lonely,
You have my heart, forever,
I can sing your song on rainy days,
I can tickle the tear duct for you,
Shaking loose the last few droplets for this puddle of sadness,
Lift your chin.

I'm here love,
Don't stress,
Don't tremble,
Do you hear that?
My heart pounds for your love,
A drum with a never ending metronome,
Each beat running on infinite happiness,
Lift your chin.

I'm grasping your nervous palms,
They are moist with worry,
But you're comfortable in my eyes,
You're lovely,
No one stretches this smile wider than you do,
Do you see my tears?
They contain no sorrow,
They leak for you,
Tears that speak of your beauty with every drop,
A warm sensation that disguises your goosebumps,
Somewhere you're reading my words, aren't you?
They make your head spin like a basketball on one finger,
Left your chin.

Let me in, forever,
Keep your head high, forever,
When you cry, I will be there with a kiss,
Mopping your sorrows away,
Until my dying day,
Lift that chin.
Written September 11, 2008.
May 2018 · 194
Take My Guiding Hand
DP Younginger May 2018
You're beautiful.
I know it,
But you scowl at such an audacious remark,
How can you see yourself so ill-favored?
The way your face lights up as I approach your stunning features,
Perhaps the world is blind and I am the only one whom sees this unworldly phenomenon,
You still disagree with me, no words, a shake of the head,
I will capture this verdict,
I promise,
Your beauty is complexive,
One glance and the camera in my mind grasps every pixel of your flower,
You duck and cover at the sight of a lense,
Photo albums make your heart vanish,
But why?
You're gorgeous.
I know it,
You don't trust my honesty,
But, you see, I do not intend on settling for a loss, a tie is still a loss,
Those conditioned strands of silk compliment your sky blue eyes, so bright to a squint,
You look away from admirerers,
You isolate yourself from face,
You're a rose.
I know it,
But why can't you see what I see?
Take my outstretched hand,
Don't hide from marble puddles,
Don't scratch or splash away your reflection,
You frown at the sight of a passerby, taking in the world,
But again I ask,
You're Monroe.
I know it,
You actually consider believing it,
Trust me,
These words write for a wild purpose,
You give me reason to touch graphite to this linear plane,
Lined with veins for you,
Don't be nervous,
Look here,
Into my eyes,
Look deep into the black abyss that holds space for you,
Only you,
You're beautiful.
I know it,
No more questions, your heinous?
I smile,
You blush.
Written in the summer of 2008.
May 2018 · 339
Transforming Man
DP Younginger May 2018
Everyday my life shortens,
My happiness shimmers with the thought of "my day" approaching,
The chill running down my spine, reverts,
My hands tremble, as the fragrance of her hair breezes passed every sense of my body,
I stumble with weak knees, as her voice echoes through these drums,
My periferrels focus on her figure and send butterflies to my empty gut,
These eyes see differently; each day passes again and again,
It's no longer Love that gasses this heart,
But the motivation of one day filling the hole that lingers in the shallows of my soul,
I have transformed for that day, specifically,
In a way, I have failed,
I am vulnerable and my feelings are surfaced and exposed,
My inner sores are doomed by a heart that defends this castle, no more,
But, I will move passed this spinning clock; it is my time,
Living in doubt is drowning yourself in denial,
Living in fear of denial is breathing in counterless distress,
No more knots,
No more heavy pockets,
Live weightless,
Live free!
May 2018 · 198
DP Younginger May 2018
You know that she is gone,
You know it won't work out,
But still, your heart gives you a reason to keep trying,
A signal inside your head that tells you she is the one,
Her smile,
Her laugh,
The way she looks at you,
You're hooked,
But it's all part of her game, with only one handicap,
You can't win,
There is a glitch,
A reason to give up and accept defeat,
But, you have this feeling that you'll pull through,
Your heart is extremely sensitive, it's fuzzy,
Although her heart has its mind on something different,
She wants a present,
A today,
A living in every moment attitude,
You desire a future,
You blow it,
You back off,
But you don't completely remove your being from this game,
You simply play it safe with all intentions of succeeding,
You smile,
She laughs,
The atmosphere is morphing from misty to foggy,
Suddenly, you cannot see her,
She walks away,
You stand there with a dying rose, slowly descending from behind your back, to the cold Earth,
That's it,
You failed the system,
Your fuzziness turns to streaks of lightning,
You win,
No tears,
No regrets,
Just a motive to move on,
You now live as she does,
I'm here,
Right now,
I'm not there in ten minutes,
I live for this moment,
The future was just an obsession,
But that obsession chases snakes, as you fall into your comfort zone,
I say goodbye to my obsessions,
Hello obsessers,
What are you doing, today?
Nov 2014 · 11.7k
Strawberry Cough
DP Younginger Nov 2014
Red streaks of thin hair, finely cured,
Sugar-coded skin, sweet yet sticky inside…and then you sniff,
Freshly sliced with soft cries for help, the grass grows,
Dried in the most delightful setting; a miniature shadow of the sun,
The initials share a basketball in one palm-
-The pop from the stereo reflects the ripple of a king-
A complete package within, once the engine has revved- the liftoff-
Find yourself inside of her powers; the majestic magic maneuvers the mind,
Mend many memories and flick the switch on the motionless projector,
Guilty pleasures please the people and protect peaceful guidance,
Keep close the cultivation of a captivating lover-
-She will rise in your soul like helium in the lungs-
She, who I breathe for, calls my name; forever entering the cave,
I broke off a chunk of everything she has grown to be,
Crumbled, chalk-like pollen, piles into mounds of distraction,
I set flame to the lone match and touch the wick- a silent sway-
She burns, her hair still a fiery-ruby blend, but like all living expectation-
-The ash separates and with the wind…she performs flips-
The poem is supposed to look like a gorgeous nug of ****.
Nov 2014 · 2.6k
DP Younginger Nov 2014
My shoelaces flap side to side like one of those car-dealership inflatables arms-
My veiny stompers pump puddles of pure procrastination from perceptive sprinting-
Underneath the tune-buds, I cannot hear my sneakers scraping the scrap rocks of gravel-
To my left- a hooting owl habitats itself in a hushed game of charades-
To my right- a slick tree frog flies freely from a lofty leaf and lands in the lagoon-
Elapsed images of elastic languages fill my mind with everlasting wisdom-
Entertained by the watercolors, my canvas curdles and secedes the state of mind-
Pressing harder- the curtain continues to close as I chase the condescending daylight-
Pressing softer- the tuner in my temple turns into a terrorizing shriek from my tibia-
Nov 2014 · 3.3k
The Devil in Pajama Pants
DP Younginger Nov 2014
Somewhere down in the depths of everyone, there is a spinning plate,

The Devil holds his stick parallel to yours and watches as you sweat,

You rip the sticky bottom of the bottle off of the glue and stick your bucket out to catch the fall,

The Devil plants his loafers and casually crosses one leg over the other,

Sometimes you even change the channel and pray that the entertainment value fills your cup,

The Devil licks the sides of your ice cream cone and draws faces in your food,

You drop your *** into the bean bag cloud and strum the buttons on your controller,

The Devil places the headset on his burning head and boils your water as you sit in the corner of the room, ignoring the kitchen,

Someone passes by with a similar stride and you turn a single glance into the Vietnam War,

The Devil sinks into the sofa and picks the fuzzies off of his jammies.
DP Younginger Nov 2014
Inside, I’m a house-cat with claws like Hugh Jackman- he’s been waiting on hold for an hour and a half.

I’m a Ghost-type Pokemon wearing a powder blue LT jersey from a time when JT was all glamour shots.

Today I’ll smoke a bowl next to my open window and then spend the entire night hoping my parents stay brainwashed by the Smart TV.

How come all the advertisements on the side of each website I view are related to me in some way or form?

Sometimes I have dreams about shadow monsters hanging out with my Cookie Monster doll.

When I sob my father’s name, it responds by tickling my toes at the end of the bed and twisting my ******* when I fall back to sleep.

My ears are like Batman’s pet bat, except in this world my eyes accumulate wax.

I’m a house-cat hopped up on cat-nip and I can’t sleep so let me be.
Nov 2014 · 1.3k
DP Younginger Nov 2014
How many Someone’s lay planked on their waist and stare aimlessly at the candle’s flame?

Who of You is daring enough to close Your eyes and in space alone, simply drive- drive away?

The same Someone’s and Who’s-of-Who’s, on occasion holler at the moon with expectation of a bark back; or is God but a prestige to fools that We allow to wear Normal on Their crummy ******* name tags?

Sometime around Christmas there is a salivating peace, sifting downward on ordinary people, whom really don’t feel like being cold, you know?

This is me, rotting away on the carpet, a blanket’s blanky for the floor, just staring through the shutters on the vent below my brow; in the reality of it, I should probably schedule a spring cleaning…not for the vent folks.

You see- and I’m trying to be as casual as I can- I’m about to ******* pass out, you know what I’m saying?

This is that incredible moment where I’m the Bob Feller of dozing off, 9 innings of shut-eye talent, but at 2 or 3 in the morning…it looks as though I’m bringing in Mariano Rivera to close it out,

I can almost smell the scraps of mowed grass, kicking up from his cleats as he jogs closer to where home is; I never really find out if he makes it to the mound…
Oct 2013 · 1.4k
The Backseat
DP Younginger Oct 2013
Here, I loaf,
Coffee in my left, a second wisdom in my right,
Shredding years off of "the plan" to pay the dues, society bills,
Thousands on thousands pile up in pre-season games,
Fingernails digesting in the stomach, slashing through the stream like a cross-saw paper-cut,
Here, my feet bounce,
Behind generationally equal minds, I peak over dandruff and hear nothing but dry lips,
Avoiding the eye, I dip into the ocean,
I wade, I pause, I sink,
My joints crunch and fingertips tap dance,
Here, the static fleshes out,
Every thought a raft, casted away, I play Tom Hanks,
Chalkboards accumulate fine powder, the particles tickle the sneeze,
Outside, the rain is still, falling through the ice,
Inside, my brain is still, falling to the vice,
Here, I watch those watching,
The wrapping on the box, present inside, today we learn tomorrow,
I sit on the bow,
Distraction by means of technology, we are all second-hand smoke detectors,
Together, we learn to strap our seat-belts on correctly,
Here, the window is foggy.
Oct 2013 · 661
DP Younginger Oct 2013
I slept on the floor,
Make me a slave, I feel criminal,
Every stitch in my hoodie plays the pillow,
Tell me a story, lecture my unknowing- I shall bow-
Outside, the children laugh; I watch them to feed my innocence,
Gardening my eyes, the rose pierces the finger and leaks into the old soil,
Red rain to flourish the undead...souls like zombies as the veins pump within,
Oh, so now there are more man-made commandments? Humor me with your ideals,
Weigh the opinionated options, use  equality to be better than me, the uniform is uniform,
Use every hole in the wall to spy on those whom seem little, like ants, they march on, single file,
Push me down these stairs, allow me bounce off of every comma to reach a point of ending, I begin.
Oct 2013 · 1.1k
Thought Bubble
DP Younginger Oct 2013
Take me away to the smell of morning, a fresh brewed stretch as stitches in the shoulders slightly begin to tear,
Take me away to the taste of late night TV, where censorship stares darkly at the ***** daylight,

With this glass of Piraat, I cheers to the bubble- You've kept me trapped and captive-
-no ransom-

Take me away to my youthful fortress- king of the world- bunk beds budding dreams-
Cast me away to wrinkled newspapers, a tinted fade from pre-decade wood-
-I reminisce-

With this wincing wink, I say hello to my old pal,
Look how big you've grown, you are transparent in thought.
A quick juke in the right pathway sends me off to the races, no body in front of me but dusty footsteps,
This sequence seems separate from repetition but i'll find the looking glass,
-a letter to myself with simple calligraphy-
I'm lost- I'm discovered- I'm tied- I'm bound-

Oh fragile bubble,
Forever caged off the ground, I swing...
Oct 2013 · 778
Space Staring
DP Younginger Oct 2013
Eyes out of focus, ears echoing with a hint of reverb,

Pupils alternating on perfect loop, a period to a black hole,

Hair becomes like static, a sound that goes unnoticed ,

Fingers numb, fingertips like nubs, bitten to the core like a rotting apple,

Nerves in the kneecap relay a rhythm to freezer burnt toes,

Bouncing a heel - a nervous and impatient tick -

The words in front are smudged by internal noise, binding brain activity,

Reality renders room for a romantic razor to ready the troops,

Slicing and dicing the fruit - on the cutting board - falling seeds like a hailstorm in July,

To be stuck forever, a coma with a comma to separate answers to commence,

Answers bladed sharp and split open by the distracted mind,

An attention disorder that lives in the people,

The people take drugs, die faster, and hide away from the natural,

The unexplored realm where one can truly find a companion,

Holding hands with Caulfield, innocence is immobilized for eternity,

The shuttle returns - all words loitering become visible, feasible, and manageable once again.
Oct 2013 · 942
DP Younginger Oct 2013
Choose your satirical weapon of choice,
Draw a three-dimensional box and conceal the hidden within a two-dimensional sphere,
Needle-point holes squeeze tightly, a misty spray like that of a busted soda-pop can,
The knowledge leaks consistently into the universe, morphing tear droplets into The Great Lakes,
These ten toes hover and glance over the edge, zoning prints like words in a descending motion,
A touch of the shoulder from a folded palm gently comforting and confirming life above this Earth,
A speedy squeeze of all five joints, now on my knees, the gravel latches onto my scabs, pushing and pounding through the pain,
Molars grind, tongue-dried, salty saliva salvaged, yet sitting silently on a secretive cold-sore,
The knowledge is flooding the dam gates, burying ankles in piercing hot grains of sand, diving into a castle's moat, a rush like traffic on a Friday evening,
The world seeps into the depths of my transparent drain,
The seepage creeps slowly downwards into a mental shaft constructed purposely for psychological phenomenon,
I worry there may be excessive overspill of rescued reality,
An unopened present, the anticipation and expectation as a child dreams,
As the gaps and cracks expand, I am able to touch base with memories as they pour outwards like a dog's busted territorial marker, a firefighter's ammunition,
Extinguish the forrest fire,
Paint the canvas gently with a spin of the color wheel,
Play the part of a lonely plumber,
Plug every hole.
Oct 2013 · 929
Flat Lines
DP Younginger Oct 2013
It's a dark shadow, not knowing how to tug your path through the oceans waves,

It's a blinding sunrise, understanding what you hold internally for all those whom seek the bluest river,

It's a rubix cube of thought, feeling unaware of set solutions like the procrastination of a premeditated checkmate,

Why do these toes enjoy hanging over the cliff?

Why do I taste bitter aspects of living and then bark at them with the snarling grin of of a man less fortunate?

I am who I am supposed to reflect,

The water invites me to wade but I would rather think about the clouds and drift,

Far far away, I dream of white puff with many hunchbacks and a baby's grasp of the finger, warm like a winter's hug,

I am now and forever, yet those are impossible actions to reach out for,

I am faded in my cage and forgotten in my youth, yet she provides me with balance and clarity,

We will die and from death we will count numbers in our slumber, until the curtain bleeds through the white dress, a stain that will linger no more,

We will become our dreams and live on for a soul purpose,

Just Imagine.
May 2013 · 488
DP Younginger May 2013
At night, my sleep- it ponders.
At day, my sleep- it wanders.
I search for the core of my thoughts, to drift into the feathers.

Of course-
They are separated by silk or satin.
By now-
I must have warmed both halves of my body.

It's 3 am...
I'm two hours late.
But the rabbit has no time to waste.
May 2013 · 914
Are You Sure?
DP Younginger May 2013
What is it that you want most in your life, as it follows a very distinct path?
Do you want to fly? Play sports? Sustain a career? Or perhaps spend the rest of your life with that very special one you love?
Does he treat you well?
Does he love you with mirrored intensity?
Are You Sure?
Take a look into my graphite eyes,
Do you believe it?
I do-
It’s up to you to decide where you’re headed in this short living,
You can follow me,
Or steer your own life on autopilot,
I can guide you,
I can love you,
Can you love me the way I love you?
Are You Sure?
Take a moment to envision a life without the One that you love,
How is it?
Can you honestly believe that you will be with him forever?
I believe it,
Do you?
Look into his eyes and glance into your future,
Is he present?
I am here,
And you are right beside me,
Loving me- right?
Are You Sure?
Don’t cry,
I’ll be here forever,
Cherishing you, loving you, caring for you,
Believe me when I say that we are going to be together for eternity,
Look into my eyes,
Do you see what I see?
I can see what you see,
But can you look into my pupils and say that you love me with the look I am receiving at this moment?
Are You Sure?
Take a breath and smell the air,
Do you smell the passion?
I do-
I can tell you that you love him, even if you can never seem to let him go,
You want to let it all out, but you’re afraid of what he will think,
Don’t worry,
Let it out baby,
He won’t mind because he loves you,
I love you,
Do you love me enough to show me your past?
Are You Sure?
Don’t leave,
Stay here in my arms forever,
Let me hold you the way you should be held,
Do you feel the warmth of my love?
I love you,
I know you, to me, the same,
I know with all of my beating heart,
You Are Sure.
May 2013 · 610
The Spot
DP Younginger May 2013
Welcome to the darkness,
Here, in the pitch black, you must think sanity is reality,
Run faster boys!
This is what life is all about, ain’t it fellas?
Beer, cigarettes, and the gateway keeps my body numb and limited,
I tear my pants and soak my shoes,
Welcome to the beginning,
Finely tuned alcohol mixed with a law-bending chaser,
You start the night sober and end up in the brush of a security-focused forest,
The spark ignites the torch and they’re off,
I sit with no worries and breakable boundaries,
Welcome to the climactic chase scene,
A flash- a knock- a turning door ****-
We’re back into that **** darkness again,
Weaving through vines and avoiding surprise…I stop.
Feels like a few steps and a highway short of glory,
An adventure away from true freedom,
I sit,
I watch,
I plan,
This is the Spot.
May 2013 · 789
Water Colors & Pastels
DP Younginger May 2013
The tip of a stallion’s tail paints the ripened walls of a Victorian Manor,
Edging the corners of each windowpane, there exists a glimpse of childhood glamour, sealed with stain glass paper mache-

Drowning in liquid blush.                 Watering flowers on canvas.
                      Sketch skies from scratch.                    Moisture in the rough wood.                                    
      Shading lips of an awning.                       Leaking dissolved gutters.        

Bleeding innocence for public eyes- Reviving youth in summer coded tapestries,
Such a beautiful residence, unique in design with romantically crafted shutters,
The exterior emulates ecstatic dreams, composed by the tropical contents within,
The interior imitates indigo seams, stitched by a face in the

This spacious mansion reveals rippled reflections of imagination, as she melts peacefully in the Spring rain, and dries most comparable to running mascara,

A seasonal attraction is morphed into the portrait of a generation- Striving to follow a receding path across forgotten rainbows,

The Universe orbits in the mist with the presence of-
Water Colors & Oil Pastels,
Telling A Story,
May 2013 · 812
Coffee Beans (Unfinished)
DP Younginger May 2013
I’m Up! I’m Up!
The pink rag, soaked in ice cold water flops onto my capsulated face,
Caught in between the colorful alligator whom follows me in the darkness and a temperature guage, set to a boiling point of some sort.
I’m Awake! I’m Awake!
The grown imitation of me is dragging the arctic rug across my crusted sockets of sight,
I arise with immediate surprise,
My head cranks left- right-
A man’s best friend shaking a seizure to feel warm and dry,
I visualize the bottom of my mattress laying quiet and still above my head,
The coffee beans brew the smell of one more morning to begin the dilation of rested lungs,
Get Up! Get Up!
The executioner of rested thought is a parasite to my inability to exercise- Worm-like movements of some algorithm-
Off with his head!
The king of my heart screams as the comforter slides off of my immobile flesh and the residue from my eyes attracts plenty of oxygen,
Drifting off, I again visualize that slumbered alligator, whom is chasing my dreams into the Rubbermaid playground,
The creature sways in my knightly moat as I taunt the teeth of a smirk so envious- Opposable stumps we tag as a thumbs up,
Ten minutes with this shadowed beast is all I need to chomp down on prey that only exists in the wild jungle of the morrow,
Splash! Splash!
May 2013 · 1.3k
DP Younginger May 2013
Stress cushioned grips, Check.
Speed Racer threads of mental strains, Check.
Lazy legs with baggy exhaustion, Check.
Unshaved follicles and overlapped cuticles, Check.
Unclipped toes with rotten flakes of age, Check.
Un-fished priorities topped off with an absent cherry, Check.
Uneasy knees and crack able joints, Check.
Absent-minded realizations of accomplishment, Check.
Did I miss something crucial? Check.
Productivity in moderation…Check.
A list of values to jump over silently…
May 2013 · 1.0k
Forgot The Present
DP Younginger May 2013
Stuck in the middle of three familiar faces,
Trapped in the core of colorless thought,
To exist, the gal must eliminate the beauty of sharp autumn leaves,
Dropping back into bland flakes of an aged trees dead skin,
One must paint- alive- velvet streaks of rebellion,
Forget the Past,
To grow, this gal must soil the seed with warm fingers,
Pop the pressure and allow the lungs to lay low,
Consider the movements of an ink-blotted splatter, as space in a frozen lake,
Remember the little girl they use to pamper,
Free the chained doll and give life to a blackened heart,
Forget the Future,
Blossom the flower, soon to be in the fullest bloom,
The sun rises twice for the one who speaks romantically,
Entertain elders with a new generation of enthusiasm,
Be the woman whom creatively ponders as a mature adolescent,
Grab hold of the most valued gift you desire and expand from those branches…
May 2013 · 990
DP Younginger May 2013
****** suspicious schemes,
Right or wrong, I see past all communication into extreme expansions of a negative mindset,
Scarlet buttons compressed with Indian shaded tint, through mistaken pigment,
Veins pumping overtime with boiled fumes of something condensing,
You’re running out of immediate clockwork when days brew skyward and panic appears to be tempting your envious iris,
Behind the machinery are the blueprints,
Directed only towards agitated agony and sour sorrow,
Illuminated by locked doors-
I ask you- as the reader- the listener-
See passed my memories and create room for visions of a tangible imagination and leg-pumping adrenaline,
Needle infested wrenches lock arms with the absent intelligence of conscious deprived brain flow,
I see you peaking around my duct and depict an abstract view of confused, focused eyeliner,
Slick and plentiful dew drops linger between a plugged safeguarded build,
You’re running out of precious seconds as Antoine Fisher burns free the story behind a smearing disguise of gratitude,
Amen to the present and many men for this lopsided track record,
I’ve got a key witness in my pocket, along with images of what I lived for, before mistakes took flight,
Continue on with your heart, as nothing more than a stranger in a cauliflower society where I erase the painted tapestries,
Beware of the ticking, as I await my calendar to run dry,
Prepare your own stopwatch and click on the rolling minutes my old friend,
I hate everything you represent,
Everything you expose to the previously tainted atmosphere,
But mainly, everything you have coming home from war,
May 2013 · 577
DP Younginger May 2013
These questions come from the heart but leave though the mouth at the direction of no one,
They surround me with the confusion of a thousand watches ticking,
I ask you, Why?
Not answering me is the one thing that turns my days into weeks,
Those weeks into tears,
Those tears into puddles of raindrops gathered at the surface of my feet,
Those puddles seem to be a mirror looking up at a face that has been crushed by a thousand problems,
The mirror drowns me in a sea of hopelessness,
I read your notes from scratch and turn them into works of art with my bare joints,
I have seen your heart which pounds me like 10 rounds with the champ himself,
Keeping you close was iron,
Letting you go was child's play,
Calling was a tad short of desperation,
Begging was abhorrent,
I chased your heart around in circles only to end up in the same place I started,
I attempted to ask you one question which you would not grant me,
I concealed my question in a package and sent it to your heart but you strayed elsewhere,
I can't understand,
I don't comprehend,
May 2013 · 492
Thoughts Louder Than Words
DP Younginger May 2013
Curling this finger just under my boyish snout,
Dipping my pupils into yours without words to expose,
I think of this moment and other aspects of you that I do so impose,
You repeatedly stir my flies while I pull you into me with these eyes,
These brunette iris' mix coherently with a beautiful crest witnessed beneath,
I picture summer and capture what I hope to be forever,
Caressing your Midas enhanced locks, I swallow thoughts that curl my dimples skyward,
You tinker with my strings as I maneuver myself closer to your heart and further from the day we locked textures,
It's finally time to open up these dreams contained within,
I want you here, I want you now, I want you forever in my spin.
May 2013 · 789
Sunshine On A Cloudy Day
DP Younginger May 2013
Have you ever noticed a horizon engorged with clouds of all mystic colors?
A formation of rainbow nimbus with a hint of gray that hides sunlight for the human eye to capture,
These circumstances calls for immediate alarm,
A hint of gray,
A color described only as bold and audacious,
As the gray cloud disguises the beautiful assortment of colors, I look to a solution to brighten up my day,
I look to her,
The girl of my dreams,
To cast her own sunset in my imagination,
She too is exceedingly colorful in her own way,
She resembles a rainbow in numerous diverse ways,
Her smile is a reflection of various colors that glow with every concept of beauty,
Her voice grasps my attention when my ears do as the eyes do best,
Her hugs give you that warm feeling that makes you feel as though you are sitting on a towering hill watching the sun dip below the sky,
When the sun goes down the feeling of warmth empties with it as you wait for the morning to approach,
The next morning approaches and exits without a glimpse of a beautiful sunset,
Have I done something wrong?
Is there a reason the gray has completely enclosed God's work of art,
My emptiness becomes an abyss in the pit of my stomach as I fall to the earth in complete despair,
I look up only to hear that melodious voice of a loved one that resembles the beauty I miss so deeply,
She brightens my day once again,
With that smile, face, and figure,
I call to her as she slips away from me,
Why is she gone?
Does she love me?
Doesn't she care?
Clouds cover her up as she disappears into her own horizon of solitude,
I'm left alone once again with the image of gray plummeting my mind,
I don't get it,
She was there and blinked in a different direction,
A life lesson well learned in a sentence summed up with one word,
That's all I obtain in life,
I take Time to acknowledge the beauties of Earth,
And sure enough they dissipate with the blink of an eye,
I love her,
I know she loves me,
I think about her every time I gaze upon the wonders of the sky,
Its that time again,
A time where my beauty dips beneath the clouds of gray,
But I will live to see the aspect of her beauty once again,
Because I love her,
Until my rainbow of a sunset dips beneath that horizon,
May 2013 · 729
DP Younginger May 2013
Reasons to disappear into nothing,
No one would miss me,
No one would Care that I left,
Not even she,
The crush I long for each and everyday,
I talked to her,
I had A lot on my mind,
Maybe too much for her to transact,
I don't know where I went wrong,
She left without even saying good-bye,
That's all she needed to Say and I would have been fine,
The two disheartening words that I longed to hear from her voice,
But how can you even speak to a girl that doesn't even know you exist,
Frequency is not the key to a relationship,
Neither is ever saying more than two words to that Person in reality,
An animated world with a spruce of reality on the side,
Why say good-bye in person?
She won't hear me,
She won't tap the corner of her Eye,
Not even a breath,
I look up,
She looks down,
A face ashamed by my presence,
My heart hurts for a girl who doesn't even believe I am visible,
A small frame of a sad face,
That's all I appear to her and her mentality,
A picture of a friend that could never be noticed,
Seven long hours I wait to hear her words that can only be seen,
Seven long hours in the making of another step towards a disaster waiting to happen,
I speak,
She listens,
I persuade,
She ignores,
I love,
She just stares ahead,
I was there yesterday when she said hello,
Where am I today?
A secret is revealed,
She knows the secret I have kept from her for so long,
I guess that is why a simple "hello" is proportionately out of the question,
It's all Right,
Keep staring ahead,
You look your way,
And I'll look my way.
DP Younginger May 2013
A sorrow couple of days fills my heart with dreams,
It beats with a drum of a thousand jungles,
You own its sticks in which it beats,
Snapping those sticks in half opened a wound in my soul,
I no longer breathe with lungs but with space I live,
I have no heart- Just thoughts of it beating-
I hear its rumble when i sleep,
I feel its warmth when i'm listening to your song,
I am cold and on my own,
Shelter is not needed to keep me warm or dry,
I sit in the rain listening to the beat of the drops on my face,
Remembering your face is no complication,
Remembering your voice is as easy as my first steps,
I can think your thoughts and hear your heart,
Your heart beats with one stick while mine beats with nothing but air,
It is a tunnel of darkness and you are the light in which i approach,
Night covers up my tears and hunger that have overwhelmed me,
Thoughts in my head make me feel as though I have fallen into a race track,
They race faster with every push of your pedal,
Only to be stopped by the beating of the drum,
This will be my last words of sorrow for moving on will be a defender I am willing to tackle,
This is a challenge that I am able to accomplish,
Good-bye sorrow,
Good-bye pain,
Good-bye darkness,
Hello light,
I pay my adieu to the beating of the drum,
Good bye O' loved one.
This is the first poem I wrote, which came in 2006 as a 14 year old
DP Younginger May 2013
Tears fall at the expense of absence,

Hearts fill to capacity with the remembrance of his presence,

Eyes painted rose with water pastels that smear adolescent happiness,

We live to remember and die to live forever,

Somewhere...somehow...our angel is protected,

His pain has departed and his heart will echo beats forever,

We bear in mind his tears of relief and eyes that shadow youth,

Pick a memory out of your hat and clutch it tight,

These memories keep firm the love that is never to be forgotten,

So stay strong my peers,

Remember not the absence of our angel,

But live in our moment,

His moment,

Do not grieve his tardiness,

Embrace the memories we hold securely,

Celebrate what was and not what is,

Our angel is here,

Our angel is there,

But in our hearts...

Our angel is everywhere...
May 2013 · 471
Capture Your Moment
DP Younginger May 2013
I guess you can call me the sun,
I have no cloudy days in the way of this seed,
I see California skies and Amazon care for this sprout,
You start off unaware of the beauty to be blossomed,
Every kiss is water to your soil,
The roots have been positioned but you've got a journey ahead of you,
Every vein has a chance to branch,
You just have to know which way the sun rises,
A bend towards love is a reach into that almost heaven sky,
Smiling creates room for happiness to seep on through,
The forecast shows occasional windy days but promises you unlimited sun,
You control your own weather from here,
When it rains-
You have to see the the sunny skies to come or your caught in a storm,
Imagine the sun before it peaks its golden wings through your difficult times,
Storms knock you down but the sun turns your leaves green again,
Keep your vibes positive and leaves vulnerable,
Growing is what makes this day a forest,
You're added to the soil and must find the sun wherever it sets,
Look up,
See your future heights and pull yourself towards this beauty,
Branch out,
Live strong,
Create shade with experience,
For experience is what makes you build,
And remember…
To be happy…you must orbit around each others hearts...
May 2013 · 668
Behind The Train Window
DP Younginger May 2013
A heart hurts for the last song,
Lungs breathing- slowly-
Without dilation at the end of a summer's final dance,
Left and right we step together and grow vines between our toes,

Eyes connect,
Pupils sink into roots and dissolve time,
We become one,
We become two- As one- We are still-
In the moment-

Through these iodine eyes,
I bleed tears of pastel rose,
Scarlet rivers sitting silently outside the iris of a swirling hurricane,
The wind roars!
The sea is calm,
The bridge suspended above the creek sways gracefully in the gentle breeze,

Leaves bend and sprout incandescent green envy,
The sky steps on chalk filled clouds like feathered pillows,
A tip of the toe,
A rip in mother nature's fabric,
Stitches that mend tears into crest like smiles,

The Earth pulls us into each other like magnets- trapped in a box-
To be attached forever with no loose ends,
I sit and imagine what we could be...

— The End —