Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Aug 2015 Harly A Quinn
Nicole
Who am I to judge,
          if I did the same?
society (noun):
as of today
where everything has to look pretty
where we tattoo on our own scars
where we take, even from ourselves
where some of us don't belong
where it's a struggle to rise from the bed
where eating becomes difficult
where there is all we'll ever know
 Aug 2015 Harly A Quinn
Poetria
Society left us all alone.

So we built ourselves a word throne.
// We are the leftovers
society doesn't know how to use. //
 Jun 2015 Harly A Quinn
jessiah
It's amazing

How a pair of eyes can enthrall you

I've been watching hers for only minutes

And marveling at everything...

Everything indeed is there

All my terrifying needs

I am thin with worth,

And with a glance

I am pierced by demand

How can I ever delight such majesty?

Gods help me keep her interest
there is no privacy anymore
tinker with your settings,
imaginary dragons, but to no true avail,
your scathing privacy has since sailed,
only to return for another sinking

what you forgot,
is very well remembered
in a some very overlooked place

see me in my summer camp class photo,
blonde crew cut and goofiest of grins,
find my poems of eons ago,
in living tricolor,
to my now better understood
"eternal" embarrassment,
they writ on, vainly looking
for a way to enjoy a
natural unnatural aging,
a wordlessly, self-destructing death
on a someday,
though the probability is that
someone's gigabytes
will cloud store them forevermore
because accumulation is
cheap and easy and
whatever

everything you need but didn't want,
the tangled webs, births and deaths,
multiple divorces and successes,
ancestors, progenitors,
children who no longer acknowledge
parenthood,
the detritus of lives writ even larger than the
original reality life show

confrontation tween my suppression
of long term memories that  
are dangling participles,
going gone being been,
confusion resultant in
the tenses of existence,
I was therefore I still must be
but no longer
the me
I pretended to be

there is no privacy anymore,
especially,
not even from thine own
prying eyes and faulty memories...


when they ask what is my name,
to better trace my leavings,
I will
like Jehovah to Moses respond,

I Am that I Am
(אֶהְיֶה אֲשֶׁר אֶהְיֶה,  ehyeh ašer ehyeh)
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Am_that_I_Am

June 20, 2015 11:54 am
You can’t fence her in.
It’s like holding back the wind.
No matter how high you build your walls,
She’ll crack them open.
She’s a wild beast, not t'be tamed.

t'be = to be
30 words
Next page