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Lucky Queue Mar 2014
I made a 12 egg omelet for dinner
Not just for me, mind you,
But stuffed with milk, garlic, onion and two cheeses
Half as big as our whale sized pan and oh solo cheesy
It was such a delightfully delicious omelet
But of course, I couldn't make a beautiful thing without a dash of pain
Once, twice, thrice, four times I gripped that accursed handle
I burnt my fingers so the places where I grip my own are now slightly leathered
Sighing with exasperation, I lean across for the spatula and
ZING what do you know?
One more stripe of seared flesh on the forearm
Of course it hurt (when does fire not burn?)
But now I can't help but laugh, as the undersides of my fingers feel like a wallet
And my forearm a new splash of paint
Lucky Queue May 2013
They say you cannot have
Compassion and innocence
And yes I can see that.
But you have great compassion
And that is the greater virtue
They say that there ain't
No rest for the wicked
But what of the kind hearted?
The sweet and gentle?
They say that ignorance is bliss
And that knowledge is power
But do you know, these tables
Can also be turned?
I know you have a kind gentle heart
A tender soul and a listening ear
I know you have a wearying life
A tortured soul and a sore heart
And I know you have a bright mind
Brilliant thoughts and a clever eye
I know because with these
You've touched me
Touched my life and heart
And mind in an irrevocable way
And shown that you can lighten
The world for those in need
I literally just found this 8:42 on 5.7.13. I have no words, absolutely no words for how shocked I am right now. It's not been a great day. Not at all. But I have two beautiful friends who are helping me get better and I have this gorgeous feeling of shock that'***** me. I still can't believe I wrote this. Sorry if I'm tooting my own horn here, you can completely ignore this note, it's just for me. But dang, I can't believe I wrote this. What in heck. Anyway. I've got this and two great friends(Storm is one) and a new favorite shirt for an important reason. I still don't know how I feel exactly. But dang.
Lucky Queue Dec 2012
I've always loved quotes
And I tend to collect them
Much as one would collect
Bottle caps, or fuzzy-haired trolls
Or maybe foreign coins
One glance at my favorite notebook
And my zeal for quotes becomes
Very clear
There are many things I do though
That don't make sense to me
Like why I try to make people
But am so often
Why I like some ***** jokes
And not others
Why I even like them at all
Why, perhaps, I am who I am
And not a bit different
Yet so incredibly
Lucky Queue Mar 2014
I got my hair cut
In a small salon the filthy streets of Philadelphia's Chinatown;
The golden eagle
Appropriately named as I always feel wings lift me when I leave
Though the streets are grey and black with dirt and grime,
The salon is clean, chic, and welcoming
First one young lady with limited English swept me up to be dropped into the care of a second who washed my hair and luxuriously massaged my scalp with exquisitely long nails
Then I was led over to a swivel chair to ponder my reflection and bat my legs as a little child, waiting on Kelly for my grown up haircut
At last Kelly was free, and she too whisked me over to her mirror
In her most exceptional care she cut and thinned and cut and razored and thinned and cut some more
Her fingers flew, running through my hair and seeming to drop pieces of hair by magic
At last she styled and stepped back nervously asking if I liked it
Quickly scrutinising it, running my fingertips over the much-shortened hair, I looked up
And grinned
I love it
The bangs barely long enough to brush my eyebrows
The back as short as a boys, bristling when I rub it the wrong way
The front long and soft enough for tousling but short enough to stay out of my way
If I envelope my head in my hands I can easily trace the contours of my scalp
As though a couple silk scarves were draped over a barren skull
I was told I look like Emma Watson or Audrey Hepburn or a boy
But I love this
They're both stunning women
And I don't mind shocking a few old ladies with the surprise that this "strong young man" is I'm fact a girl
Lucky Queue Oct 2013
I used to pull sharp metal across my legs
Rarely, only on occasion
Whenever I was so desperate to feel something and I couldn't feel happiness so I chose pain
I've not chosen this particular brand of pain in a while
But I have other alternatives
I've never brought an open flame to curl against my skin like the folds of a blanket
Nor have I beaten myself with my own fists or struck out against some hard surface to bloom purple and green flowers on my skin
No, I have other alternatives.
I take showers so hot my skin reddens like a boiled lobster
I dig my nails into my palms and arms and legs to leave armies of pale crescent impressions
I bite my lip, the inside so that no one can see the sore and near-torn flesh
I scrape my nails against my back, arms, legs, chest, stomach, leaving red lines like from the claws of a tiger
I sing sad songs, difficult songs, loud songs, songs to make my throat hurt from exertion and holding back tears
And that may seem to be the least harmful or all these but its not
It can't be when it reopens my old battle wounds and makes my throat so raw that the tears burn even more
And all of these alternatives don't mar my skin permanently
But I can't help but wonder if they're really all that much better
Because I still want to feel
Lucky Queue Oct 2012
America, the perfect
Land of Opportunity and Golden Streets,
Land of the Free and Home of the Brave,
is not quite so perfect.
I think the upcoming presidential election has me thinking a bit politically...
Lucky Queue Mar 2013
My tinkling clattering bracelets
You provide such interesting theme music for my
For my daily wanderings through life
Chiming as small bells do
Clinking together as I shift my hands
Subtle movements and quiet sounds
A flow of water over you
Merely adds to the harmony
A quick **** of my arm
A jolt from being pushed
And the music adjusts accordingly
The same movement gives rise
To the same chords
Yet the meaning changes for
Every single moment of life
Lucky Queue May 2013
Ich will frei sein
Ich will mit Vogel fliegen
Ich will die Sterne küssen
Ich will Gedicht über alles schreiben
Ich will mit die Engeln leben
Aber kann ich nur jetzt schlafen
Aber werde ich nur jetzt traümen

I want to be free
I want to fly with birds
I want to kiss the stars
I want to write poems about everthing
I want to live with the angels
But I can only sleep now
But I will only dream now
Lucky Queue Sep 2012
Men have died
And angels cried,
All for love.
I have wept,
And secrets kept,
All for love.
Kings on thrones
And men of bones
Have shuddered,
All for love.
Nations have clashed
And creatures thrashed,
All for love.
Will you ever cry,
And inside die,
All for love?
Poets and troubadours
Have sung its praises.
Playwrights and authors
Have written its woes.
But who in the time
Of the cavemen would have
Thought love could ever
Be shown by a rose?
Lucky Queue Oct 2018
You requested a ride with your phone
since you don't walk at night all alone.
You were tired and drunk
so in the back seat you sunk
dropping your coat with a groan.

I drive around town after work,
because bills pile up if i shirk.
Patriotic America
writes corporate erotica
and leaves me with nary a perk.

Since I can't drive for Uber or Lyft
I'm stuck working first and third shift.
The money's much needed,
but I wish fewer heeded
capitalist lies, so I'm miffed.

FAGSS really get me to ****
(fully automated gay space socialism)
But until then I roam,
only renting (no home).
Hurry up now and rise communism.

Lyft and Uber make me dough.
But only as long as drunks go
out and party all night
maybe run into a fight,
but please, by all means, take it slow.

Uber wants to prevent their drunk riders
from being real rowdy outsiders.
So they no longer sit
in the car that they picked.
Get ready for eggs and slashed tires.

Uber's CEO likes Trump.
On his face I'd like to dump
tons of gross ****
including his ****
before squashing him into a lump.

Hello, I'll be your Lyft driver.
Get in, and be a Lyft rider.
Please buckle, no whimper.
Go ahead, sulk and simper,
but please, can you tip me a fiver?
Lucky Queue Sep 2012
One friend is deaf but manages to hear twice as much as I do,
while simultaneously embedding himself in games and genius.
One friend is kind and smart, always complimenting and supporting others before herself.
One friend is quiet, and she is both easily embarrassed
and easily embarrassing.
One friend is the previous friend's brother,
and crushes on me while never saying enough.
One friend is very intelligent and geeky,
and detests wearing skirts even more than I.
One friend is really in your face and dramatic,
pushing the boundaries on everything, but noone hates him.
One friend is the unfortunate brother of a great annoyance, but is her polar opposite.
One friend has hair of constantly changing color;
blue, green, pink, black, yellow, brown,
but always the same hoodie no matter her hair choice.
One friend has a thousand faux laughs,
but guards his true one from the light.
One friend has a mocking joke for everything,
and you can't help but laugh with her.
One friend has a treasured hat and while sketching everyone, everything, and everywhere, lays my insecurities to rest as I do the same for him, both of us in need of some love
and understanding from a kindred spirit.
One friend has an obsession with a band and a book and a show, and an overbubbling enthusiasm for everything in her life.
One friend has a meme for everything,
and a perverse thought for every situation he encounters.
One friend is half blind but she manages to see twice
as much as me and explains everything beautifully.
One friend is crazy and gets away with the exclamation of abraham lincoln in any awkward silence because its just his nature.
One friend is as a mouse, but a genius in every aspect
and hides behind her glasses.
One friend is obnoxiously loud and more of a dork than the gangster his hoodie implies so everyone simply laughs.
One friend smiles like a duck in the cutest way,
and wears her square glasses in the best way.
One friend longs for a love that is loyal
and hide s behind his temperment
So... this isn't *quite* as silly as I initially intended... I am posting this before it's completely finished though, so there will be more added later.
Lucky Queue Jul 2016
Dear old lover,
You send me all these signs to remind me that you’re around.
You come again and again to **** me over in your bed of lies,
You give me cracked porcelain and glass expectations for me to mend with gold.
But you’re a topaz among yellow diamonds, a ******* rube.
But you’re Splenda, ******* Stevia.
You’re overpriced, second hand Ikea,
I’d push you into a swimming pool to ruin your silk tie.
Your hands white from the bleach and peroxide, and collar yellow from nervous sweats.
Yeah, you’ve got a library; dictionaries of medicine and candy sweet science,
but you must have burned everything on doing a person right.
You’re a double entendre pain-in-my-*******-*** with a Ken doll grin.
Give Mr. Freeze his heart, and buy your soul back from the devil.
As filthy as it is, you could do with a little in your life.
Dear former friend,
I want you like a salad of poison ivy,
I need you like I need a nap, and I’m the designated driver.
You’re chopped liver, and your humors are out of whack,
The crown you wear is turning your forehead green and doesn’t fit quite right.
I’m the beast and you’re the burden
You’re the straw and this camel is kicking you off
at last chance, last call, last stop Nowhereville
You bathe in the bubbles of champagne dreams and silver fantasies,
But I’m the cup of ambrosia gods long for, and you lost me.
Lucky Queue Oct 2013
Machmal denke ich günstig für nicht sein,
Denn ich kann nicht zu viel sehr gut machen.
Ich bin zu klein, zu kurz, and nicht klug
Nicht friedlich genug, oder zu verrückt und komisch.
Meine Geschwister meinten das ich bin sehr ägerlich.
Aber meine Freunde hat etwas anderes sagen.
Sie denken ich bin nett and freundlich,
Lustig and vielleicht schon,
Und ein absolut Schlauberger.
Ich glaube sie fast nie,
Aber ich beginne zu sie glauben.

Sometimes I think I'm good for nothing
Because I cannot do too much well.
I am too small, too short, and not smart
Not peaceful enough or too crazy and weird.
My siblings think that I'm very annoying
But my friends have said something else.
They think I'm nice and friendly
Funny and maybe pretty
And an absolute smarty pants
I almost never believe them
But I am beginning to believe them.
Maybe this isn't too badly worded auf Deutsch.
Lucky Queue Feb 2013
I want to imagine dragons into existance
I want to kiss fire to your lips
I want to be shocked back into life
I want to fight my way down from the top
Just to break the status quo
I want to sing in the rain and
I want to dance on the edge of skyscrapers
I want to close my eyes and melt into you
Until the colors of our souls swirl into a new color
I want to smile mischieviously and whisper
"Fin" as the last echoes of my song
Fade away
I want to climb the clouds and
I want to fly through mountains
I want to swim through space and
I want to sail through the deepest depths of ocean
I want to do and be and speak and feel more than
Can be done and spoken and felt
I want to stop the world's rotation
And switch up the planets
I want to achieve the impossibilities and
Do what cannot be.
For it is said
Only those who attempt the absurd can achieve the impossible.
Last line is a quote by Einstein, inspired by the name of the band Imagine Dragons.
Lucky Queue May 2013
Steh auf drache
Du kannst stark sein
Du sollst froh sein
Ich werde die Sonne scheinen für dich machen
Ich werde für dich und mich singen
Und werden wir unter den Himmel schlafen.

Stand up dragon.
You can be strong.
You should be happy.
I will make the sun shine for you.
I will sing for you and me.
And we will sleep under the heavens.
If anyone can help me write this in german better, please do! For my friend
Lucky Queue May 2013
Unpleasant slickness
A ***** feeling that you're overwhelmed by so you just want to get into a shower and scrub your skin raw
The one time my sisters and I played in mud and were covered in gritty goop
Losing the handle to the outside faucet
Cold icy water
Jumping into a creek and getting soaked
Cold water and cramping up, drowning
The ocean's waves pulling me under
Fear of drowning and ocean water forced down my throat
Salty water and the taste of the sea
Association poem
Lucky Queue Aug 2014
the bass and horn and drums blare
all in a sudden wave of noise that ebbs
and flows
washing over the barbican center in resounding and quieting washes of color
and sound and music and flavor and passion and life
and reverberating through my bones
the geeks and nerds around me get up to retreat from the music or else head closer
the ones in front of the band whoop and shout
as the guy by the mike announces unintelligibly
perhaps the song and band
but will anyone remember once the passion and music is over?
no matter
all i care about right now is the faint sushi like taste in my mouth, of cucumbers and tuna, from my sandwich
and the disappearing,
fading buzz from the back of my plastic seat
as the music and the noise from the band
ever so slowly
wow its been a while since ive written, but i got a sudden burst of inspiration from the band playing here
its lunchtime in london and wikimania is exciting
hopefully more poetry will spill out soon
Lucky Queue Nov 2012
When I was little, I had a blanket
Not a regular blanky either
The smoothest, most wonderful one
Hand sewn by my great grandmother Charlotte
Now all we have of hers other than a
Dresser, rocking chair, and picture or three
I didn't realise it then, but it had a heart design
Of faded green, and brown and red-orange
And off-white
I don't remember much, but I do remember
I could be completely enveloped within
Still can, and this is no huge blanket
Perhaps five by three feet, and ugly as heck
But so wonderfully made and beautiful
Soft and love infused
I thought we didn't even have it anymore,
But then I rediscovered it,
Now I can't live without it
Lucky Queue Dec 2012
As a teenager who writes poetry
I get some weird reactions
I’m sure some people who hear I write poetry think
Oh my god, another teenager writing angsty poems
Then they read my poetry and think otherwise
How can I not write of the beauty and sunshine of life?
Of love?
Of happiness?
Like everyone I have down days
But those pass in due time
My dark poetry can’t last long
Not in my mind
Lucky Queue Dec 2012
I'm half asian so everyone thinks I speak 'asian'
Which just goes to show their ignorance, thinking that's a language
Another strange causation because of my 'asianness' is that I:
Can always win arguements with Wyatt by stating this fact
Was declared a ninja even before my skills were proven
I surprise people with my appearance and when I reveal my ethnicity as they believe initially that I'm mexican, italian, or spanish
Was assumed to have gone to the same church as all the others
Am considered strange, exotic, weird, genius, awesome, and stupid
Am endearingly called a 'short asian woman/lady/girl' by friends
Oh and I love love love love chopsticks, rice, and spicy foods.
Pass the srirachi and pepper please
Lucky Queue Nov 2012
I wake up and it's tour day
Bright shining sunny
The little ones line up and fidget
Go up to the street's side and watch
Some others stream into the museum
Whose insides are covered in papers
And sketched all over with crayons
Depicting a cityscape and palace interiors
The parades are full of balloons and yet empty
Then the parade has a different balloon
It's alive, regenerating, strong
A simple face exuding evil
Suddenly I know; we have to run. Now.
Children are running and crying
My friends and I glance at eachother
Anxious, fearful
I have to dash back and forth
Running, trying to calm the children
Reassuring myself and my friends doing the same
The stenches of fear and pain permeate the air
Somehow I need to get away, to escape
And run
Then two women appear
Cold, sterile, lifeless automotons
Trying to take me away
So I pretend for a bit to follow, buying time
Then I struggle away, and run back
Mad dash
I find two friends and plead help
Wyatt is willing, Max is silent, Rachel isn't there
The women are back and no time remains
After one last plea I jump the wall
Fall, climb, stand, run
Gary appears barely in time, time for what I don't know
He runs along side, pushing, pulling, somehow helping
While saying nothing, too far away to touch
We're running into eternity,
Away from a black swarming wave of putrid evil
I wake up, sweating, gasping
And I'm still running
Freaky weird dream I had a couple nights ago, wasn't literally running when I woke up, but I was mentally. Wasn't as scary as it sounds, but I didn't exaggerate either.
Lucky Queue Oct 2012
I know I blame you
For the hurt and break
For the sickness and longing
And for the invisible barrier between us,
Thin and strong as spidersilk
I deemed you hardhearted
Mercurical in emotion
And swift to raise walls.
But perhaps I was too quick to judge.
After all, you came here at just eleven years
You were tormented by peers, much like me
Your family has been split and shattered
When we were together, we were so close,
I clung to you like a baby bird
But I think you clung to me as well,
I just didn't see it because you held differently
And your touch was so gentle.
You claim to be over me, and to have successfully
Forgotten what we had, even though you also
Claim to have loved me, right before the split
But I think your indifference, your shields and shells
Are made because you also were hurt and ache and
Are created if only to protect a tender belly and soft heart.
Lucky Queue Nov 2012
Hello! Hello! Over here!
Step closer, lean nearer
Ladies and gents
Laddies and lasses
Dogs and sheep of all ages
Listen as I tell you of my fabulous new invention:
The bobby pin.
It pins hair and cash alike
A paper clip in a pinch
Open locks
Dig a coin from a crack in the floorboards or
Mark your spot in a book
Put all over your face and fingers,
And make ridiculous looks.
Poke a hole in some paper,
Moustache in a moment
The uses are endless my friends,
You can't live without it!
So crowd around, line up
And buy a set of your very own
Bobby pins
Lucky Queue Nov 2012
I think boredom was made
Just to tickle the consciensces
And annoy the heck out of
Poets and thinkers like me
Lucky Queue Nov 2012
There were two of them
Half bleached by the sun and crusted
With hard packed dirt
Found on a friend's farm
Slightly broken, and curious things
Possibly vertebrae, definitely a joint
They didn't quite fit together,
But the looked like they belonged together
Even thought they were yards apart
They were differently sized almost-twins
I wanted to take them home,
Clean them up, bleach them completely
Arrange and draw them
Study and identify and catalog
They fascinated me, and all I knew was
I couldn't take them home
I don't even know where they are now
Lucky Queue Jul 2015
you're the boxspring billionaire of feel-good
saving up your love for a rainy year,
scrounging and saving every fleeting smile and shallow kiss and
miserly, hunched over with the weight of your own suffering and despair,
each scrapped-together pile of crumpled-from-your-pockets shreds of I.O.U.s and featherlight touches.
too afraid to leap and risk, you'll never grow or invest your affections into the stocks of Lisa and George LLC, or Francis and Kelly Inc.
so your love is bound to crumble into fragile dust, the fruits of your labours withering into mouldy piles of seed, stem, and flesh.
the could-have-been and might-have-grown dying, before even living to flourish and erupt into glorious blooms of the strikingly ethereal and otherworldy.
but not for you, not ever for you.
you're the boxspring billionaire of feel-good
and you'll burn before planting your love.
written mid June 2016
the title sprang into my mind during a drive and wouldn't leave
ironically it then spread and grew on its own
Lucky Queue Jan 2013
Progeny of grey sloppy sponge
And hard, dense cranial matter
Sons of electrical pulses and impulses
Daughters of ideas and concepts, half formed
The words and phrases spat out onto pages
The pictures and doodles creeping out
From behind your eyes
The mess behind your all-and-nothing
Viewing optical orbs
Art and trash, poems and junk
These are your brainchildren
Lucky Queue Nov 2012
Perfection: breezes
Calm, cool, caressing, gentle
Forever smiles
Version of a haiku I wrote on 9/3/12:

Breezes are perfect
Calm, cool, caressing, gentle
Always make me smile
Lucky Queue Oct 2012
Halloween approaches,
Creeping toward us,
Like the decomposing remains,
Of the undead,
Rattled and shaken from their place of rest, of what should've been eternal slumber,
But now eternal hunger,
Draws them from enshrined and honored pits within deep and moist and decaying earth,
Drawn by the sweet aroma,
Of candy corn and miniature snickers,
Milky way and skittles too,
But in the end,
Their only appetite,
Is for me and you,
Happy Halloween.
Lucky Queue Mar 2013
So, don't you see her pain?
You've always been  observant
Can't you see the sick look of pain in her eyes?
After all, you're the cause
Your pretty eyes, curtain of *****-blondish hair
Sweet smiles, irresistable scent, soft touch
Your ingenuity, intelligence, creativity, and kindness
Don't you know that's why she fell for you?
She doesn't blame you for this split
But can't you see that hurts her more?
She's got to be strong, got to hold it in for you
And for her own sanity, but oh the irony
So you can sort yourself out, fix your problem,
Don't you know she hasn't cried
Hasn't screamed out, tried to smile, for your sake?
She knows your problems must be big
Big enough to hide it from her, to retreat
To ask for a break that you vowed against
She's trying like she always has for others
Confused, hurt, but mostly worried and longing
So for her, be okay, and return
She doesn't hate you
Lucky Queue Nov 2012
Carpe diem is from the Latin phrase
carpe diem quam minimum credula postero
Which means 'pluck the day and put no trust in the future'
coronemus nos rosis antequam marcescant
'Let us drink and be merry'
As a wise, yet fictional professor said,
"We are food for worms, lads"
So pluck the day! Put no trust in the future!
Who is to say a future exists?
Believe no soothsay nor medium,
They lie and tell half truths for petty cash
Find joy and beauty in the world,
Enjoy every moment like it's your last
Don't squander your health, money nor sanity though
If there does happen to be a future coming,
You'll want to be around for it!
**** the marrow out of life,
Just don't choke on the bone
Lucky Queue Nov 2012
Here I am
Walking softly through a lake of shale
Slipping down a hill
Tripping the pieces against each other
Tearing my feet up
Reaching scraping and stratching arms and legs
Over the berry bushes
Stretching for a few ****** drops of **** sweet juice
Wetting my lips and staining my fingers
Robins and bluejays flying overhead, a soft grey bird
Shyly quietly watching
Watching the fracas of the bejeweled and gaudy birds
And their screeching cries
Watching and listening with quiet fearful timidity
Much like me
Wrote this one ages and ages ago
Lucky Queue Dec 2012
Simply fermented
Curds and whey, minus the whey
Fantastic with meat
And fruit
And bread
Creamy, sweet, and soft
Sharp , hard, and strong
Fancy, or plain
Expensive, artisan, specialised
Cheap, processed, conformed
Cheesey, cheesey, cheese
The poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese. -Gilbert K. Chesterton

Well no longer Gilbert K. Chesterton, no longer...*I was feeling silly today*
Lucky Queue Nov 2012
Poor kitty cat, crazy dazed cheshire cat
Thinks by offing the parents
The offspring offed will be
So scratches both the top and roots
Of this family tree
This disillusioned kitty cat
Can't seem to understand
That by scratching a leg
You do not bite a hand
This addled backwards kitty
Has much to learn these days
And harsh admonitions
This ***** do not faze
Lucky Queue Dec 2012
Childhood is so bittersweet
A good one will be full of smiles and laughter
A few tears splattered over book pages
But overall rather sunny
A not-so-good one will be sadder, darker
Many tears, with a few smiles strayed about
Overall rather gloomy
This is all relative of course,
Some lives are sadder or sunnier than others
Different ends of the spectrum
All different kinds of people
And lives
And factors
Where one might become wicked
Only because of a cruel treatment
But another may see this evil and become more angelic
A chance for an action may result
In complete and utter bliss
Or despair and depressive desperation
But I digress,
Childhood should be a thing of great joy and beauty
Laughter and play
Not a period of pain
Lucky Queue Oct 2012
Half awake, making coffee
For my dad, not myself because I don't like it
No mugs so I grab a clean salsa jar
Fill it up not quite to the top so there's room for cream
Add the cream
And as it pours in, swirling up from the bottom,
A cream mushroom appears,
Growing in its ebony liquid environ
Swelling and dispersing to even the color
Mixing so the color is that of caramel or toffee
Still thinking about the mushroom
And the possibility to capture it as an image,
If only I can remember it
Lucky Queue Oct 2012
It is so funny how so
many decisions
that exist in American life;
the Super Bowl,
the Presidential debate,
a child's game,
all boil down to the toss
of a coin
At first the shape wasn't purposeful, but I like how it looks now
Lucky Queue Mar 2015
I am a cold creature and cannot speak.
The words solidify before they reach my mouth
And I choke on my own breath.
I am a cold creature made of ice and bone,
Stiffened by harsh winds thrown against me
Yet fragile to a breeze’s grazing touch.
I am a cold creature with numbed feeling and a distant gaze
And cataracts chilled to cool perfection,
Floating on murky brown pools of exhaustion.
I am a cold creature whose heart and eyes once held flame and fire,
yet there is still an ember’s glow.
its been floating through my mind for over a week so figured i might as well let it take form
i think it's kinda pretentious sounding but ian likes it
Lucky Queue Oct 2012
Red is the color of passion, but the passion of love
A firey burning sensation, heating and fueling lover's desire
Orange is the color of energy, blinding, and fast
Zipping through space and recharging the multiverse
Yellow is the color of friendship, sunshine and bright
Lifting frowns and bringing joy to all
Green is the color of life, growth, expansion
Of Gaia and the vibrant vivacity of Mother Earth
Blue is the color of sadness and melancholy and despair
Of the salty water of both tear and sea
Indigo is the color of calm and surging stillness, contemplation
And intellect, the color of knowledge
Violet is the color of passion also, the passion of music and art
Powerful and strong, mellowed and smooth
And octamarine is the color of magic, the eighth color of the rainbow, falling off the edge of the world into space
White and black, not contained within a rainbow, but both contain the rainbow themselves, they intertwine, yin and yang
White signifying good, pureness, gaiety, life
Black symbolising evil, taint, gloominess, death
Lucky Queue Apr 2013
What's with this phrase, 'come at me bro'
What does that really mean?
People use it to provoke, but why?
There's nothing particularly threatening about it,
And it's not even very grammatically correct
One could just as easily say
'Get thee away from me, ye dark angel of hell'
And it would be equally offensive
Or more so, if a bit befuddling.
But why not say 'come at me bro'
As a request for affection?
I know I would much rather say this
And receive, instead of a flurry of blows,
An armful of sweet affection
Lucky Queue Jun 2013
So I've got two AP classes I'm studying for for next year, as well as trying to study to skip german 2, so I'm going to be pretty nonexistant this coming summer. Thank god finals are over.
Lucky Queue Dec 2012
I'd rather cuddle than go to the park
Said my friend
I'd rather cuddle then go to the park*
Said I
What a difference one little letter makes
Funny that both 'a' and 'e' are the most used
Out of all the 26 children, these are the most abused
(Sorry that was dark, I had to write it though
I've got a new contract giving me a quota
And setting a minimum of X poems a day
With L number of lines with Q words per line
And purple plus candy canes equals love.
Another provision in my contract is that I must write
Anything and everything and whatever comes to mind)
So I'm thinking of all these letters and thinking
Why these? Why 26? Why have 'c' if 's' and 'k' can do its job?
And why do people have favorites?
Which makes my mind segue into this thought:
Why have favorites at all? Everything will be a favorite
Something to someone, right?
And what does it benefit us to love a letter or symbol such as <3
Or maybe :)
Is it because our mind sees patterns and so instead of seeing
The mathematically incorrect 'less than three' we see a heart
And instead of 'colon parentheses' (correct in no context but the internet) we see a smile
And in all honesty, we must admit, <3 and  :) are not biologically
Or physiologically accurate
So how did we come up with the super-simplified emoticon?
And who came up with a word like emoticon anyway??
Lucky Queue Mar 2017
The croci are swelling,
pressing up towards chill winds,
straining the surface tension of the dampened earth.
Unfolding gentle lips of purple and white to taste the spring,
like the flick of a snake's tongue,
they sway, eyes closed and arms open.
They beckon you to stroke softly with your fingers,
and tremble when you inhale as yellow powder speckles your face,
and they giggle.

But unlike the trees and bushes,
they never age.
Thin, nubile, soft bodies will wither,
the fingers they've poked up through the leaves and twigs underfoot will pull away.
The croci swell and dance,
but they never throw their heads back and sing
Lucky Queue Mar 2014
I want you.
I want to snuggle between your arms and your chest, wrap my legs up with yours and feel you breathe.
I want to nuzzle into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder and feel your warmth against my skin.
I want you to kiss me and rub my hair softly like you do sometimes.
I want to mumble sleepily into you and somehow you understand.
I want to laugh and goof off together and curl up under blankets and feel safe and warm in your arms.
I want to lie a little bit away and watch your expressions and play with your hair.
I want to stroke the soft skin on your cheek and neck and kiss you.
I want to say I love you a thousand times and once more for luck.
I want to slip my hands under your shirt and press them against your back to pull myself towards you and nuzzle into you and breathe you in.
I want to press close and confuse your heart beat and the motion of your lungs.
Mostly as long as I'm close to you, I feel safe.
Lucky Queue Feb 2013
Cupid's known as the love god
(Eros in the greek)
Shooting arrows of attraction
Towards those unwary
Arrows tipped with a love potion
Laced with aphrodisiac
Feathered with rose petals
Bow strung with rainbows
And infused with sweetness
These are the tools of his trade
Or so they tell us

But I like to think differently
Maybe he's a mischievious deity
Arrows tipped with complexity
Laced with anxiety
Feathered with the red of blushes
Bow strung with false courage
And infused with unsure passions
Maybe these are also his tools
Perhaps a mix of the two?

I think the gods get a little too bored
So they play with our lives
Like a child with a nest of ants
I'm not really sure how this poem came from this title idea...
Lucky Queue Sep 2017
i wake up.

the room around me is earth; red, radiating, crumbly.
i sift the bedcovers through my fingers next to my cheek.
an arm, heavy over my waist, shifts with the warmth behind me.
carrots sprout from between knuckles; purple, white, gold.

i wake up.

the piles of leather tomes as if dust was blown away just a moment ago.
warm skin behind me just a little more solid; the smell of carrots and earth a little less sharp.

i wake up.

the walls have receded and sun is pouring over my legs.
only a couple feathery green tops remain and the arm is held tighter to my body.
dusty rectangular outlines on the dresser and floor.

i wake up... and open my eyes
Lucky Queue Dec 2012
This trio, conjoined by the snaking coil of a common dream,
Put forth their writing on the proverbial wall
The void between breached by the collective of the written word
Surreal landscape all the while sifting before their wise eyes,
Reached across miles to clasp their hand in the hall of time!
Never quenching the fire of their talent threefold muse,
Or assuaged in time the darkened orbs of the wise.
Through those hands that reached out for each other,
Three incomplete souls, three beads of one unique rosary,
Their heart full of amorphous love,
Breathed into each other a new life,
Became one missing piece of their puzzle,
Bound by a string of silent promises to stay intact,
To not fly away from each other, no matter how high their wings took them,
They set forth a journey, a journey full of never ending journeys.
The perils of their Fellowship, intangible
And the only barriers space and time
One being divided in three by fourteen hours and many miles of Earth
A chance linkage has set this pursuit in for a piece, a work in motion.
A work to describe their separation is forged
And the cogs of a collective mind start to spin.
A single piece borne from heart to heart as in a compendium
Spread out, and all around them the duties of the spherical lay;
Compiled by their hands is done,
And the same rising of the sun is seen of the three in each own way
The beauty of each rose is unfurled like the beating of each momentum!
The victory shall soon be won!
The goal of their want was met by the shores of brighter halls;
Herein contains the working of those annals which rose out of grey walls.
Now hand grasp hand to work complete,
And forged a work and friendship which cannot delete!
Though they rise and fell,
All around their eyes did well;
To see the beauty of one goal,
That did not crash upon some far off shoal!
So ran they the race of the clock which halted—injuries could not hold
The lays of their hearts was far stronger than the ills and their story's told.
The wheels of motion could not stop their voice,
Now they each rise up in one and do rejoice!
A three person collaborative write by: abyjyt jn, Timothy, and the undead faerie girl. Fully compiled November 20, 2012.
Lucky Queue Jan 2013
Rain that is no longer wet
A slip of the teacher's tongue
Which can only make me wonder:
Is it like canned evaporated water?
Lucky Queue Oct 2012
I'm half in love with you
And I'm half in love with him
But this story twines two ways
So where do I begin?
I knew you first
Loved him later
Emotion, confusion
Is this fate or
Something else,
To consider
Because my heart won't belong
To random bidders
I know this is cheesy
And probably cliché
But I need to find some sense
In all this fray
So bear with my confusion,
And my state of mind
I hope only for love,
And one not unkind
This gets a bit cheesy...
Lucky Queue Apr 2013
It's funny how people tell me I'm strong, tough
But some things make me so weak
My will breaks easily and I fall
I'm not talking about physical weakness
Nor any type of physiological frailty
My mind and heart are the problem
And sometimes I wonder
Were the tinman and scarecrow wrong?
True, there is benefit in having a heart
And yes, a mind has much to offer
But the heart remembers you
The mind aches with pain
And I'm tired of being broken
I know I can be sweet
Kindness is little problem
But does one need a heart to be kind?
Perhaps its absence would suit me better
And if I think, I think so often of the past
What could have been, what might have been
And I think(hah think) that maybe
Losing my mind wouldn't be so bad
So tell me heart, and you also mind
What is your great redeeming quality?
I'm dying to know
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