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 Apr 2015 Eliot York
Elioinai
They talk and bend,
They draw and write,
Harder and faster,
With ever clean hands,
Which might sometimes stoop to dirt,
Only to be disinfected after,
They peer down the microscope,
And examine the cells,
Each year the pictures are better,
But their eyes are darker,
They work,
To add that extra diamond,
And slave,
To remove that spot of rust,
But all their work,
Is like adding more water,
To a swimming pool of iron,
And their houses increase in space,
And their wives are wrapped in lace,
And their lives go to waste,
As they increase the yield,
They decrease the life,
And all that grow are empty supermodels,
Row by row,
Strong back, strong head,
Sword against the bugs,
And man falls with them,
Forgetting he is made,
Like the bugs himself,
Work,
Not to make the fields full,
But the heart,
Then the rust won’t matter,
And if pictures of cells are hazy,
Your eyes will be clear to understand
17 Feb, 2014
Inspired by The Omnivore’s Dilemma
 Apr 2015 Eliot York
Willow-Anne
Way back when I was younger
I was mistaken as a dude
They asked all sorts of questions
That slowly grew more rude

"Why don't you wear makeup?
Or dress in something nice?"
"If you ever want to get a guy
Why won't you just take our advice?"

When I began in high school
I had just begun to change
I had bought myself some cheap makeup
And clothes that just felt strange

Still, it wasn't enough though
The insults continued to come
"Ugly. Lazy. Undesirable"
It all began to make me glum

By the beginning of junior year
I had fully given in
Dresses replaced all of my jeans
And makeup covered all my skin

It was then, the insults changed
And people began to glare
Said I "cared too much about my looks"
And my "head must be full of air"

I still always got straight A's
The way I talked was still the same
But though I knew that they were wrong
Their comments made me feel lame

When senior year had rolled around
I was lonely as could be
People "liked" what I'd become
But I felt no one liked me for me

I'd never been on a single date
Because all the guys were crude
So it was only a small amount of time
Before I was labeled as a "*****"

When I finally started college
I expected something more
But people took one look at me
And labeled me a *****

I had not been sleeping around
I still hadn't even been on a date
Everyone just made assumptions
And looked at me with hate

The part that was most ironic
Was that after all these years
Of changing to be whatever they said
I was still hated by all my peers

I didn't want to dress like this
I didn't want to just conform
But there is only so much a person can take
Before they need to fit the "norm"

Society is what destroyed me
They are the reason I am this way
I changed to be what people wanted
Now I understand: I'll never see that day

I don't know who I am now
Though everyone else thinks that they do
Now please just take one piece of advice
It's so important to just stay you

You are perfect just as you are
So continue to stay strong
Remember no matter what they tell you
What society says is **wrong
Well....This is by far the longest I have ever spent on a poem....and the longest thing I've ever written. But though it is FAR from perfect, it was well worth it in my opinion, because this is something so personal and important to me.
To everyone reading this poem; no matter how old or young you are, no matter where you are, who you are, or what you have been through, please just remember you are uniquely beautiful and wonderful. People are going to tell you your whole life, that you are not good enough, or that you need to change to be accepted. ***** them. They are wrong. You have something so unique to offer the world. You are amazing and beautiful, and perfect and you DO NOT need to change. Stay strong and be EXACTLY who you are. Let yourself grow and evolve the way YOU want. Then years from now, when you have become the best you, the person YOU want to be, you can show society what true happiness, success, and beauty look like. <3 I know that all sounds super cheesy and cliche, but I don't care, and I mean every cheesy word of it.
<333333333 Stay wonderful everyone <333333333
 Apr 2015 Eliot York
Syzygy
Dear World,
You say everyone's beautiful.
Everyone, meaning
The authentic photoshopped models on TV.
-Unsigned
Whatever happened to the moments
we lived for
the moments we lived from
electrifying lives
currents of passion
high voltage that knew no resistance

what do I have to do?
to feel the surge
to feel the spark
to feel alive again?

Is it in the tomes?
Is it in the songs?
Do the muses hold it in the walls?
Is it inside of me?

Searching for the switch
to send me back to passion
To make me feel charged again
to make me feel in charge again
to my darling who feels she's not:
our separation is mere illusion.
truly, your pain strikes me as i write this;
your sensations of abandonment,
and the decisiveness they have caused,
bleed from my skin into the fibers of my clothes.
i am no longer clean.
i do not feel pure.

to my severed arm and shortened tendons:
destruction is merely another side of life.
out of disappearance comes all things-
without space, there would be nothing to contain us,
nothing to allow and enfold our beings' spirits,
and they would sputter and cease like my love's flame.
i am no longer yours.
i do not feel full.

to the farthest star that my eyes can see:
your light reaches me- i glimpse you!
in the perceived emptiness between us
there is no distance to be found;
around us exists the infinite potential for
further connection and deeper growth in closeness.
i am no longer alone.
i do not feel sorrow.
 Mar 2015 Eliot York
witchy woman
No one loves me
I'm not worth a single drop of blood

It would be wasted
If you spilt it for me

And dry your tears
For I'm the only one that has to cry

This time,
So there's no use shedding them for me

Sometimes, I wish I knew
How to disappear completely

So no one would remember my voice
Have no memories with me

I feel like life
Would merrily move along

If I were just simply
Gone
                     Gone

    Gone.
The titles also a radiohead song. But it doesnt seem like a bad idea. Erase everyones memories of me and just leave. Fall back into the everlong seas of black unconcious and then hopefully to the end of time- the extraterrestrial, super inconcievable meaning of life. I believe we find it when we die. I dont even know, I dont think anyone loves me so its about that time.
flawed to near insanity
but long as you could hold down a job then its alright
isn't that a wise policy she asked
i'm not so sure
watching the clowns strut their stuff
in the midnight sun
they are reckless to be certain but self aware to a fault
just makes it all the more bizarre
watch em go at it with each other over the simplest thing
its no way to live
you can vouch for the living as long as you haven't died
and this madness is just shy of being in a pine box
so darling lets get outa this crazy place
get away from the thinking
that you gotta be like everybody else
get away from the plastic hippie rat-race
roll down the easy highway
find us some sweet sunshine to breath in
find us a better life to be
 Mar 2015 Eliot York
Grame Rabbit
In semitones it sang its morning song:
With perfect intonation did it sound
Each pitch-pure shaft of tone to richly confound
The staccato, choppy, chirpy, cheepy throng.
After this phrase of notes sung clear and strong,
A cadence-closing burst of trill unwound,
Shaken out taut and cinching, fast and round,
That lasted to the pure tones doubly long.
More beautiful singing I have never heard,
And yet was I inclined to doubt its worth.
I silenced my mind and listened to the earth,
And this was in the singing of the bird:
If all the world will be the way it is,
Be thankful for the bird that sings like this.

^ ^
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