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call it the greenhouse effect or whatever
but it just doesn't rain like it used to.
I particularly remember the rains of the
depression era.
there wasn't any money but there was
plenty of rain.
it wouldn't rain for just a night or
a day,
it would RAIN for 7 days and 7
nights
and in Los Angeles the storm drains
weren't built to carry off taht much
water
and the rain came down THICK and
MEAN and
STEADY
and you HEARD it banging against
the roofs and into the ground
waterfalls of it came down
from roofs
and there was HAIL
big ROCKS OF ICE
bombing
exploding smashing into things
and the rain
just wouldn't
STOP
and all the roofs leaked-
dishpans,
cooking pots
were placed all about;
they dripped loudly
and had to be emptied
again and
again.
the rain came up over the street curbings,
across the lawns, climbed up the steps and
entered the houses.
there were mops and bathroom towels,
and the rain often came up through the
toilets:bubbling, brown, crazy,whirling,
and all the old cars stood in the streets,
cars that had problems starting on a
sunny day,
and the jobless men stood
looking out the windows
at the old machines dying
like living things out there.
the jobless men,
failures in a failing time
were imprisoned in their houses with their
wives and children
and their
pets.
the pets refused to go out
and left their waste in
strange places.
the jobless men went mad
confined with
their once beautiful wives.
there were terrible arguments
as notices of foreclosure
fell into the mailbox.
rain and hail, cans of beans,
bread without butter;fried
eggs, boiled eggs, poached
eggs; peanut butter
sandwiches, and an invisible
chicken in every ***.
my father, never a good man
at best, beat my mother
when it rained
as I threw myself
between them,
the legs, the knees, the
screams
until they
seperated.
"I'll **** you," I screamed
at him. "You hit her again
and I'll **** you!"
"Get that son-of-a-*******
kid out of here!"
"no, Henry, you stay with
your mother!"
all the households were under
seige but I believe that ours
held more terror than the
average.
and at night
as we attempted to sleep
the rains still came down
and it was in bed
in the dark
watching the moon against
the scarred window
so bravely
holding out
most of the rain,
I thought of Noah and the
Ark
and I thought, it has come
again.
we all thought
that.
and then, at once, it would
stop.
and it always seemed to
stop
around 5 or 6 a.m.,
peaceful then,
but not an exact silence
because things continued to
drip
  drip
    drip
  

and there was no smog then
and by 8 a.m.
there was a
blazing yellow sunlight,
Van Gogh yellow-
crazy, blinding!
and then
the roof drains
relieved of the rush of
water
began to expand in the warmth:
PANG!PANG!PANG!
and everybody got up and looked outside
and there were all the lawns
still soaked
greener than green will ever
be
and there were birds
on the lawn
CHIRPING like mad,
they hadn't eaten decently
for 7 days and 7 nights
and they were weary of
berries
and
they waited as the worms
rose to the top,
half drowned worms.
the birds plucked them
up
and gobbled them
down;there were
blackbirds and sparrows.
the blackbirds tried to
drive the sparrows off
but the sparrows,
maddened with hunger,
smaller and quicker,
got their
due.
the men stood on their porches
smoking cigarettes,
now knowing
they'd have to go out
there
to look for that job
that probably wasn't
there, to start that car
that probably wouldn't
start.
and the once beautiful
wives
stood in their bathrooms
combing their hair,
applying makeup,
trying to put their world back
together again,
trying to forget that
awful sadness that
gripped them,
wondering what they could
fix for
breakfast.
and on the radio
we were told that
school was now
open.
and
soon
there I was
on the way to school,
massive puddles in the
street,
the sun like a new
world,
my parents back in that
house,
I arrived at my classroom
on time.
Mrs. Sorenson greeted us
with, "we won't have our
usual recess, the grounds
are too wet."
"AW!" most of the boys
went.
"but we are going to do
something special at
recess," she went on,
"and it will be
fun!"
well, we all wondered
what that would
be
and the two hour wait
seemed a long time
as Mrs.Sorenson
went about
teaching her
lessons.
I looked at the little
girls, they looked so
pretty and clean and
alert,
they sat still and
straight
and their hair was
beautiful
in the California
sunshine.
the the recess bells rang
and we all waited for the
fun.
then Mrs. Sorenson told us:
"now, what we are going to
do is we are going to tell
each other what we did
during the rainstorm!
we'll begin in the front row
and go right around!
now, Michael, you're first!. . ."
well, we all began to tell
our stories, Michael began
and it went on and on,
and soon we realized that
we were all lying, not
exactly lying but mostly
lying and some of the boys
began to snicker and some
of the girls began to give
them ***** looks and
Mrs.Sorenson said,
"all right! I demand a
modicum of silence
here!
I am interested in what
you did
during the rainstorm
even if you
aren't!"
so we had to tell our
stories and they were
stories.
one girl said that
when the rainbow first
came
she saw God's face
at the end of it.
only she didn't say which end.
one boy said he stuck
his fishing pole
out the window
and caught a little
fish
and fed it to his
cat.
almost everybody told
a lie.
the truth was just
too awful and
embarassing to tell.
then the bell rang
and recess was
over.
"thank you," said Mrs.
Sorenson, "that was very
nice.
and tomorrow the grounds
will be dry
and we will put them
to use
again."
most of the boys
cheered
and the little girls
sat very straight and
still,
looking so pretty and
clean and
alert,
their hair beautiful in a sunshine that
the world might never see
again.
and
Dark n Beautiful Apr 2010
The ******.
They say that beauty is in the eyes of the
beholder, however the ******
is a gold mine.

Women do not even know
what their possess
many a nation have gone to war,
because of this ugly beauty,
the seven hundred wives of
King Solomon and his three
hundred concubines
a great example of what
the ugly beauty can do.

Infidelity is on the rise,
so many lies,
since the ****** is an embarassing subject
why men lie and killed for it,
For this remarkable commodity

A ****** is like a Van Gogh painting,
it gets lot of attention.
A weapon so powerful
It can break a man down to his lowest
it has a language of its own.
silly words like sup, sup, sup. during loving making
However, that was supposed to be the primary appeal
of a beer to men.

The ****** and a beer have so much in common
they both get their men all the time,
a smooth transportation,
in addition, the lamentation,
****** you are surely number one!
Men incredible dreams,
No matter how destructive or fulfilling,.

.
Dark@beautiful/or Darknlovely
Francie Lynch  Mar 2015
Ice-Cream
Francie Lynch Mar 2015
I chose ice-cream
Over yogurt;
Strawberry, vanilla or chocolate.
Each equally without prejudice
Attracted.
The fifteen year old server
Was kinda short;
The vanilla tub had about three scoops
Remaining,
Stacked hidden like frozen snow-*****
As in war games.
His task would have been daunting
And embarassing,
And I, a humanitarian
From higher education,
An altruist from St. Joseph's,
Could not allow it.

The chocolate tub
Was yet covered,
And the sobbing child's cries
Were hardening in my ears
As Dad tried to allay
His chocolate tears,
Applying the five second rule.
I am an empath
By nature and poetry,
So, turning from chocolate,
Left me strawberrry.
Triple scoop too.
I believe
You thought through
Your choices
Like flavors of ice-cream.
Being imaginative,
I do.
MaYJa Jul 2014
. . . I have been seeking a new kingdom to call home and your heart, like a castle hides behind great walls,
where both the strong and weak share embarassing flaws.
Unlike just any castle, yours is not on top of a great hill,
nor in the midist of a forest beyond where the waters chill,
its right infront of everyones face who decides to pay attention,
funny that many by pass it because they never seek it, but are ever seeking attention.
Unlike in fairytales, its guarded by pride, humbleness, care and a huge ego,
it rages against anyone who tries to love and care for it, but when it loves back, it never lets go.
Like any castle out there, forcing yourself in will hurt both you and those in it,
the hours you'll take destroying can not be compared to the years you'll take rebuilding it.

So I made up my mind to stand at the gates of these great walls, perfectly built brick for brick,
to proclaim my honour and loyalty for you,to make a promise and stick to it,
because I would rather help you guard it, than play pirate to break down your walls.
So Knight me your majesty, as I report for duty to guard and protect everything that lays behind your great walls. . .
. . . let me make it my new home. . .
choupinette Jul 2013
I never told you this,
it's a bit embarassing,
but every wish I make,
I make it for you.

Every penny thrown into fountains,
every lucky stars shinning bright,
every last cigarette of the pack,
is a wish for you

I wish that your troubles will go away.
I wish that you will no longer need those antidepressants.
I wish that you finally get the break you need.

If it means I'll never see you again,
if it means you'll forget about me,
so be it.

You deserve to be happy.
Little Azaleah Aug 2016
'Hahahaha'
They laughed.
They laugh at my insecurities,
They laugh at my embarassing moments,
They laugh at my face,
They laugh at me.
They laugh, they laugh, they laugh
.
They don't seem to care or realize
the whirling emotions within me.
They don't seem to care at all.
They just laugh,
And I don't think it's funny at all.

{ E.I }
Katie J  Jul 2012
Mine
Katie J Jul 2012
Parents:
Overbearing,
too
controlling,
always
out
of
line,
demand­ing,
embarassing.
Cruelty
undefined,
liars,
protectors,
lovers,
homewreckers,
caring, kind, considerate,
bossy,
loving,
sweet,
caregivers.
And definitively
Mine. <3
Izshe  Sep 2012
For Bob
Izshe Sep 2012
She came into my life
a karmic explosion
over a pristine
midnight blue
upstate New York
lake,
its breath
damp and warm
and sweet.

Gasping,
labored efforts
expelled a preganant breath,
a prelude to
life.

Blackflies engaged in rutualistic seance.
Lethagic mosquitos emerged
from the evening's sweet mist.
But then raged into frantic spirals,
squealing out futile messages.

Timid pines,
guardians of the ancient site,
loosed their rigid stance,
Prickly spines shivered to the ground.
Anxiously, they awaited rumors
that would quell the fetal dread
that flowed through veins,
invading their bliss.

A bulky mass stirred from somnolent state
in that mud-lined basin,
releasing brown ribbons of agitation,
and inciting a ravenous hunger.

Friendly galaxies,
former guides in his dream state,
abandoned his cause,
flickering a vague adieu.

Having cradled him for so long,
the slick muddy floor now sent him flailing to and fro,
an ungainly dance,
embarassing to watch.

Where once he thrived,
he now gasped for air.
To be continued . . .
escape Apr 2014
Today in class, I saw you writing a spreadsheet
Numbering girls looks from 1 to 10
You gave me a 7, told me that was alright
But I don't want you to define my beauty with a number
To the government, I'm just a digit
To charities, I'm a statistic
To businesses, I'm only the amount I own
I want to go back to the days when you wrote poems about me
You caressed my flaws and kissed my imperfections
The day you told me I was gorgeous, I looked myself in the mirror
"I'm actually pretty" "I'm like all those other girls" I told myself
But what's changed since then?
When you fell out of love with me, did my importance sink too?
With a clear view, do my downfalls and my embarassing body diguist you?
You were too insensitive to show the slightest bit of affection
So you labelled me, gave me an average and put me in a category
To you, I just want to be human
To be beautiful
To be loved
Sharina Saad Oct 2015
Yesterday I was a school going kid
Always Hungry for knowledge
Always Thirsty for lessons of life
Obediently sitting in a large noisy class
Listening and recording every words preached
Hoping they were stored forever...
Or atleast before the exam day was over

Today I still go to school
Twice a week
with a bunch of happy people
We have fun learning!
embarassing ourselves mostly
In the most intellectual way!!
laughing at ourselves for being silly
Sometimes unsure
whether we are hungry or thirsty
But knowledge is like the sea...
Endless and wide.

Rather ...
We are desperate to digest it all
The ZPD, Scaffolding, Sociocultural and Constructivism?
Hey hey whose theory?
And Skinner, Pavlov, Vygotsky and Chomsky
Hope they are here to tell us a story.

To go or to let go
Hard .. dont you know?
Decided to go with the flow...
Determined that one day
We will stand tall
On that humble stage
Wearing that long pretty robe ...
in our hands a scroll...
There's nothing like having a PHD
With your sweat and tears...
and a whole lot of laughters too....
The feelings?
Of course... unexplainable
The experience?
PRICELESS!!!
Neon lights Oct 2014
I spent one of my days, somewhere at the end of October, facing all my fears
I let them through my mind and everyone got infected by bad vibes from me
That day I woke up to some distant rambling of my parents fighting
I found myself falling back into sleeping sweet embrace and awake at 9:30, finding dad sleeping on the stairs.
The day before, mum put oil on my hair and I complained about the smell that doesn't fade away after washing it  four times.

I was thinking of buying books and listening to music but can't because mum is beside me
And I don't like doing anything near her.
I asked her if I could change my glasses frame if I get straight A's for finals
She asked me to find a hammer to nail my bamboo box together
I wanted to show her a picture I took at school with another seven people of which I don't even know three of them
but end up telling myself not to because I don't want her to critize my funny body posture.

My sisters came home and suddenly all in a rush rummaging through some old things behind my closet.
They found a picture of me when I was six and another one when I was eleven taking a picture with my favourite teacher.
I told mum to get rid of my kindergarten ones but she kept them
Next thing I knew, I lost the one when I was eleven.

I saw the printer wire and my sister insisted that we should put it up so mum did and I fixed it. I fixed the printer and clear the carriage jams and all while putting up with all of the screamings going on between both my parents and both my sisters.
I blasted ******* bands in my ears and running loud thoughts in my head.

That day I cut my nails only on my left hand
Later, one my right hand finger is stained from printer ink.

Evening came and dusk came, night came. Midnight came.
I talked to the only person I'm sure I love and reachable. Autumn.
She's 17 and leaving school next year also very worried about her big exam on Nov 3.
She told how her emotional day went that day from how her classmate cried and her teacher cried too so that night
she got into the shower and cried and I said that it is okay
and we talked about biology and saliva and ulcers.
I listened to Good Riddance that night for how it constantly reminds me of people I love: Autumn and Luke and people I loved: Nightingale.

One of my friend also had the same vibe saying she is afraid of tomorrow, afraid of turning fifteen next year just like me.
We laughed about our first day going to school few years back then.
I brought up all those people I used to know and asking myself where did they go?
Or was I'm the one who disappeared?
Night came as I sit on a dying school chair listening to the ******* loud TV downstairs
I made coffee and listen to those voices.
Dad switched off the TV I was left with a strangling silent even with music on full volume.

Unconsciously, I grasped the coffee mug in front of me
clinging to its blistering warmth and started to cry for no reason just draining out the weight of life of today.
I shut my eyes with intent to barricade those tears from falling
but
it just pools and pour out and didn't cease and I just let them be until I hear someone going upstairs.
Oh how embarassing to see me in this state wiping off tears on the sleeves of my shirt where my heart should have been

Here I am in this endless mirage with a mug of coffee listening to the low hum of voices so familiar and imagery of many people that I'd like to take their pain away
just to let them breathe for a while.
I sipped the bitter coffee to the last drip
I tried not to think of those times when I haven't listen to this one song quite awhile
and
just before I press play it crossed my mind what if this song changed
It was kind of disappointing that it didn't but the feelings I had for this song did change
I took a few glance at my bookshelf and lost in this flashback when I used to measure my height on it
and
adding another 28 cm just to see how tall Luke was and it turns out he was taller than my bookshelf
so before I went to sleep on the same night, I told myself that I need to be at least 175 cm.

I lean against my chair trying hard to recall when did those things happened?
It can't be that long ago but
the image is so unreachable in my head.
Today, it's emotional day Autumn said it's an emotional day and
I said strikethrough 'an'
Today, life seemed as inevitable as death is
I'm here with no particular purpose of living set in my mind except surviving against a few little distraction
and
let me tell you this

*I like it.
Today is the day and this is what I've gone through today

(12:23AM)
the dead bird Feb 2016
life is strange.
I wonder frequently
why I am conscious
did the me that I am
spring to be out of
nothingness?

"energy cannot be created;
nor destroyed"

what was I, then,
before I became me?
sometimes, I daydream
and imagine
that before being born into this hell
I was just beams of enegy
shooting out
from a supernova.

flying
past
star systems
and
comets
and nothingness
being almost nothing
no
consciousness
not yet

that is just
a daydream.
I am not religious.
but
the concept of heaven
seems pretty ******
to me.
bliss, ****
I don't want
eternal
anything.

I would get used to it.
living in bliss
would become normal
even if
it is a stark contrast
from the way
I am living right now.

no,
personally,
my idea is that
when I die
my consciousness evaporates
my soul becomes
what I was
before me
and I no longer
have thoughts,
or emotions.
that used to scare me.
it's not frightening,
because in nothingness,
you have no concept
of frightening.

you also have no concept of happiness
but none
of sadness either.
no embarassing memories
or boredom
or headaches
or being sick
I won't even
be able to miss my dogs
for I will have no concept of them.

I am not scared
of death
nor
nothingness
I welcome them
but will wait
until I get an invite.

one of the biggest questions
that used to plague me
was
why does anything exist at all?
I don't think there's an answer
as to why.
I think it just does.
and existence
means
experiencing
all of it
the happiness,
the *******
the anger
and depression

duality
is in
everything

I am not horrible
well, in some ways
I am
but in an equal amount
I am also
wonderful
and the same goes for you,
too,
though I see
each side
of the duality of your being
as something beautiful.
trying to write about something other than depression or lust. I don't like it. I feel it lacks passion. But they are thoughts and here they are
I watched her walk the halls day after day at school
Dumpy, frumpy with a beautiful smile
The boys called her names I dare not mention
She continued to be bubbly and laugh at their taunts*

Funny though, no one though she was dying inside
Did not know every single tease tore another building block from her body
Never showing how much it hurt, the smile contageous but everyday she suffered

People would pass her in the halls and the guys would cough with some obscure name
They waited at the bottom of the stairs during lunch just so they could tease her more

She wasn't ugly not at all
Not skinny,not fat
Just above average

She would perserverate over what to wear
What would make her look her best
Each outfit would hit the floor as her own mind would say words worse than the boys could think of

She had one boyfriend
Her friends teased her so badly she gave him up
That seemed to bring the dogs on more
They thought it was fun

Everytime I saw her she smiled and laughed ignoring them
I used to tell her she was beautiful and they were just immature
Prom came around and she bought a beautiful dress
Thought for sure she would go

It didn't matter how sweet and thoughtful she was no one asked her
Why?
Because she wasn't a popular kid nor a geek
Just short frumpy Sue of a dairy farmer

She graduated with honors
The frumpy girl was replaced by a beauty
Yet she could not see it
All she could see or hear were the names those boys called

The Valedictorian speech she gave was full of promise for all
Including the ones that didn't know beauty from a hole in the wall
A few weeks later we were all gathered again
This time for her funeral as Sue had taken her own life

She left a note alright
Thanking ones by name
I wish I had done more yet she thanked me for being her friend
I guess she got the last laugh

Her note was no joke
But she made sure to point out every vile thing about those boys
Every mistake they ever made
Each embarassing thing brought them down a few more pegs

We buried her today
I gave the Eulogy
About the girl with the most beautiful smile
That reflected all she was on the inside

Magazines, movie stars, text books, and tv shows
They show the beautiful people on the outside
Teaching children that is what matters most

Teach your children beauty is from within and really has nothing to do with the outer shell
Tell them do unto others as they would want done to them
to befriend the little people whose smile or words inspire them

Most of all teach them everyone is beautiful in some way or other
So they don't have to bury their friend one day or worse yet
You don't have to bury them before their time
Written by Niyahlove /Jennifer Humphrey all rights reserved

— The End —