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Mark Steigerwald May 2015
Check Out my GoFundMe account and help me get to the South Pacific and make a real difference in our world. 5 seconds of your time could be the difference.

Go to the link below to see my GoFundMe page

http://www.gofundme.com/lb1t6c
Morgan  Feb 2016
no bug spray
Morgan Feb 2016
i've been watering dead plants for so long
i hardly remember what they look like
when they're alive,
and maybe this means i'm
losing my mind,
but the truth is,
we all want a miracle.

i think i've just been
counting too much
on mine.

i wanna believe
that my love & loyalty alone
can turn a withered pile of
prickly dirt into a strong
and stunning cactus,
once again.

i wanna believe
that if i count you every
time i count my blessings,
you'll bless me with your presence,
but it feels a bit like a child's
impossible dream.

i am a dreamer though,
even in a one bedroom apartment
with creaky doors and leaky faucets.

so, i'll continue to do these things
that don't make sense to you.
i'll wish you a happy birthday,
just cause i mean it.
& i'll visit your mom in the hospital,
so she knows she's never alone.
and i'll give money to your friends'
"gofundme" page,
because you know,
i want ryan to get well too.
and i'll pray for your safety,
even though i have no religion.

and i'll sit here,
on my bathroom floor
thinking about dead roses
while you lie with your
face in a pillow
that's forever stained
with the scent of my shampoo.

and i'll hope that you still love that smell
as much as you did when you still loved me.
and i'll hope that your heart isn't
prickly and pathetic.
i'll hope that it's
stunning and strong
like a cactus.

and if they call me crazy,
you can tell them they're right.

but i'd rather be the one who
waters a dead plant,
than be the one who misses
the magic only found
in fallen petals.
wordvango Feb 2018
Wouldn't it be crazy wonderful
To see in person some of
The most noted Wordsworth's
And personalities that
Hello Poetry has to offer?
August 15th would be good
Here in Clayhatchee Bamalama
In the south with nothing else to offer but the woods and cornstalks the peanut dust air.
It would be a festival. A face to face to finally meet the poets I admire and describe in my head by their words and their profile.
I'm about to start a gofundme page to make the wildest dreams come true. Imagine Eliot greeting you in person.
Its gonna be tie-dye only and sandals dress. (Weeds illegal here and the price high as hell, so bring your own)
Load up the vw van with all your poet friends.
Entrance fees waved to those
Bringing their own soap and toiletries. Oh, and beer....or ***....whisky....tequila.... Etc.
We are also going to need qualified trippers to man the LSD flipout tent.  Please apply here: www.hpflipouttent.com
Sarah Spang Feb 2015
Someone stroked the dial down
On contrast, shade and form
The dullness paints the very air
From eyes; tired and worn.



ANNOUNCEMENT (To my readers):

Hi Guys,

I know it's been a while since I've posted poetry and I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate your support and feedback. All of you have been so kind and I could not have asked for a better audience. However, times are rough at the moment and I'd like to post a link to my GOFUNDME account. If you like my poems, you will be make a small donation via the website, even a buck would be appreciated. Below is the link.

Thanks,
Sarah

http://www.gofundme.com/Sarahquil
MJ  Dec 2014
48
MJ Dec 2014
48
Forty eight, the number of so called “friends” that I have lost on Facebook since voicing my opinions.

One of them was my uncle, who thought it better to simply unfriend me instead of following my polite request to stop sharing certain opinions with me.

Red, the color of the innocent blood that Officer WIlson drew.

Three, number of days since the Grand Jury decided that Officer Wilson was justified in his slaying of a college bound, unarmed black teenager.

Youth, the group of people who have become fed up with all the lies told to us, all the injustice perpetrated against us, all those telling us we’re not good enough, we’re not complacent enough, we’re not thankful for what we have.

Eighteen, the age Michael Brown was when he was unjustifiably slain while unarmed. A college bound teen, Mike was taken from this world far before his time. “”He should have been in college. He should have been spending all night in the library studying for exams. He should have been going out with friends and making the most of his time. He should have been getting ready to come home to his family for thanksgiving. Instead, he’s 6 feet underground, because that is where Officer Wilson decided he should be.”

I don’t have a gun, stop shooting - Michael Brown’s last words

Gofundme, website that brewed hate and racism, and assisted Officer Wilson in raising nearly half a million dollars

Hatred, the thing that has allowed Ferguson to happen the way it has.

To the ‘change’ that we have seen in the past 50 years since the Civil Rights Movement. To the ‘change’ that has allowed systems of institutional racism to remove innocent black lives from the streets. To the ‘change’ that has allowed Officer Wilson to have zero punishment for taking an innocent life. To the change that we may one day see that will allow Blacks to live freely and happily, and to allow them to have zero fear in situations where they are innocent. To the change we may one day see that will erase the racism that still haunts this country. To the oncoming revolution, may it be strong, may it last, may it save

-m.j.
D  Jun 2020
please read this all.
D Jun 2020
i don't have a poem, but a plea.

hello poetry is an escape from real life for a lot of us, me included, but real life needs us right now.

the #blacklivesmatter movement is louder than ever and if you're not a person of color, or if you are but you also benefit from the system in place that depends on the destruction of black and brown people, now is your time to stand up.

stand with those at the protests, use your voice, your platform, your privilege to raise up your fellow black voices. and educate yourself on whats going on if you haven't already, because this is just the beginning.

this is global now. all over the world people in countries like UK, Germany, Canada, and many others are taking to the streets in a peaceful protest of the ****** of Georgoe Floyd, and so so many other Black men and women. a protest of the blatent police brutality in cities all over the world, brutality that mainly targets black skinned and brown skinned people. a protest for real honest ******* change, that will ripple through country to country.

this is a revolution. do not be silent.

go out and protest if you can. donate to the georgefloyd gofundme, to the bail outs for the protesters who were wrongfully arrested. spread awareness where you can. lift up black and other poc voices, and don't give up.
our words are so powerful, this site has proven that for so many of us, so lets use them for good
Rip Lazybones Jul 2016
To the reader scroll down to skip: I have been posting from this account since 2012, I think. It is possible that I may delete all of this in the next couple days. I have no static readers, so it won't matter much, and this is not an emotional gofundme with words to stay here. This is just an explanation of choices before me. This is the last place on the earth that I exist. If this goes away, I'm sorry, and I thank you for all the time you spent reading me. Good luck to you all in either direction the wind blows us.

A lot of stuff has been moving for me
People fading and being swept out of my life
Tectonic plates beneath me are sliding apart
Vibrations shakes my bones, then rattle my organs
Tie up as many loose ends as I can
What else can I use to hold to steady
Do I let the maelstrom of inner fire consume me
Do I let clench the earth to keep things together
Do I release my carbonic form into ash to float elsewhere
Do I slide into the depths of the sea with new shackles
Unfortunately coins only have two sides
And I have only one life
That is possibly too few or more than I deserve
Depends on who you ask
All the people I have came across
The wanderers, travelers, lovers, highway men
Minstrels, talking shadows, the shackled, growers of moss
All of them and others that need mentioning
They have no say or choice
I am starting to wander if I do
The scale will tip in one elements favour
Whatever it is, it will be greeted by my coin flip
Rot with dignity or embrace life's next trip
Best part of the result
I am the only one who can read what gravity puts in my hand
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJa5sxlvsVg
Siren  Feb 2018
Held On
Siren Feb 2018
I’m glad I held on
Held your hand
One last time
One last breathe
Gone
Cold
I was told
You left us
I’m glad I held on
Held your hand
One last time
As you ascended
Memories
Imagining
You regaining your strength
In your limbs
In your mind
You shined
Smiled
I’m glad you held on
The way you did
Until I released
You back to Him
I’m glad I held on to you
My body tells me it’s time
Even though my mind
Hates the memory of losing
A best friend
A laughter out loud
A smile with a few good teeth
A working man with working hands
I’m glad I held on
Held your hand
One last time
No #FuckCancer gofundme page will ever replace you
No brown eyes with a gray tint to look at
Drown in
Get lost in
No sound of rough feet rubbing together
Sounded like matches
No more car watching on the porch as people passed
That’s your baby girl?
That’s your grandpa?
Nope that’s my daddy giggles
No more haircuts on the porchNo new memories
I’m just so glad
Glad I held on
Held your hand


Happy Birthday
February 24 is my father’s birthday. He died when I was 14 years old due to colon cancer that metastasized and shut down his kidneys. He was my best friend. Similar to his eulogy I wrote about his hands.
Alvian Eleven Dec 2024
6 a.m di Surabaya - 1 a.m di Gaza

Saat bangun tidur badanku terasa lemas.
Masih terlalu pagi aku masih ingin berbaring di kasur.
Sambil kubuka akun X orang orang Gaza yang kukenal.
Tapi hanya akun Omar yang tampak aktif.
Memposting apapun yang sedang dia alami.

Omar mengeluh susah tidur.
Kedinginan berselimut kain tipis usang.
Banyak nyamuk masuk ke tendanya.
Sementara di luar suara zanana mengganggu.
Diselingi ledakan bombardir pesawat jet.

10 a.m di Surabaya - 05 a.m di Gaza

Aku bosan menunggu antrian bank yang ramai.
Sambil menunggu sepi kubuka lagi akun Omar.
Dia mengeluh melihat banyak belatung.
Merubung sisa tepungnya yang hampir kadaluwarsa.
  Dia tak bisa lagi membuat roti.

11 a.m di Surabaya - 06 a.m di Gaza

Aku menunggu ojek online di tepi jalan.
Sambil merokok kubuka lagi akun Omar.
Dia mengeluh kehabisan sabun dan shampo.
Sementara air untuk mandi dan mencuci.
Hanya tersisa setengah ember.

01 p.m di Surabaya - 08 a.m di Gaza

Aku sedang makan siang di Peneleh.
Makan pecel sambil kubuka lagi akun Omar.
Dia mengeluh saat mengantri di toko.
Menghabiskan waktu dan tenaga.
Berdesak desakan hanya untuk sekantung roti.

04 p.m di Surabaya - 11 a.m di Gaza

Saat sore aku nongkrong di Wonokromo.
Minum kopi sambil kubuka lagi akun Omar.
Dia mengeluh setelah belanja di pasar.
Bawang , tomat , terong , kentang dan cabai.
Harganya semakin naik tak terjangkau.

06 p.m di Surabaya - 01 p.m di Gaza

Aku sedang duduk di beranda masjid.
Menunggu isya sambil kubuka lagi akun Omar.
Dia mengeluh setelah berjalan jauh.
Merasakan kepanasan dan kelelahan.
Hanya untuk mengecas ponselnya di solar panel dekat pantai.

08 p.m di Surabaya - 03 p.m di Gaza

Aku masih makan malam di Tunjungan.
Makan rawon sambil kubuka lagi akun Omar.
Ternyata di Gaza sedang hujan deras.
Omar mengeluh setelah tendanya kebanjiran.
Barang barangnya basah terkena air hujan.

09. p.m di Surabaya - 04 p.m di Gaza

Temanku mengajak minum kopi di kafe.
Minum cappucino sambil kubuka lagi akun Omar.
Dia mengeluh sudah lama tidak makan ayam.
Yang bisa dia lakukan hanyalah menggambar ayam.
Lalu menaruhnya di atas piring kosong.

10 p.m di Surabaya - 5 p.m di Gaza

Aku sedang menonton sepakbola.
Saat jeda kubuka lagi akun Omar.
Dia mengeluh setelah memeriksa Gofundme.
Hampir seminggu tak mendapat donasi.
Sementara uangnya hanya tersisa puluhan shekel.

01 a.m di Surabaya - 08 p.m di Gaza

Tengah malam aku bersiap tidur.
Sambil berbaring di kasur kubuka lagi akun Omar.
Ternyata pemukiman dekat tendanya baru saja dibombardir.
Omar mengeluh setelah kelelahan membantu evakuasi.
Dia hampir muntah melihat serpihan tubuh berlumuran darah.

03. a.m di Surabaya - 10 p.m di Gaza

Aku merasa kesulitan tidur.
Sambil mendengarkan musik kubuka lagi akun Omar.
Ternyata dia masih tetap mengeluh.
Merasa lelah terus menerus mengeluh.
Terlalu banyak keluhan hingga kelelahan mengeluh.

Aku juga lelah melihat Omar terus mengeluh.
Tapi orang yang menderita memang harus mengeluh.
Hanya mayat yang tak bisa lagi mengeluh.
Mayat tak merasakan penderitaan untuk dikeluhkan.
Daripada menjadi mayat lebih baik Omar tetap hidup walaupun terus mengeluh.


November 2024

By Alvian Eleven
I took a walk
with you
to you?
for you
this morning when it was
dark outside

I stopped
and
cried in a telephone booth
and called your
number from
the
      d
         a
       n
         g
       l
         i
       n
        g
  phone

Someone organized
a benefit concert
to offset
medical costs for your family

I probably won't go

but I'll donate to the gofundme link
online
ogdiddynash Feb 2024
no, not a political divide crossed.

no, not switching fandom to the
hated other crosstown team,
with the clownish bobble head
thing.

once a meat eater, a meat eater
for life.

stolidly, boringly straight, waaay
too late
to switch that side.

the switch referred to herein is more
profound, straining boundaries of a
decades long term relationship.

I desire  to switch sides of the bed we
sleep on, after decades of habit, that
transferred with us when we traveled,
moved etc. To each Our Side was the
Natural Order of Things, a higher law,
immutable, constitutional and ranked
higher than the Ten Commandments.

over time, my side sank beneath the
excess weight of growing old with
bad lifestyle habits…a bad back, an
aging frame, core muscles that seem
to have been decored, made a new
firmer bed a necessity,

when we called 1-800-Mattress, we two
social security retirees, were shocked,
shocked! at the hole in our budgets
such an expenditure required.  We would
be forced to survive on bread (brioche)
and water (Pelligrino) for weeks, our only
condimentable affordable would be margarine,
a pseudo butter made in chemical factories.

so, she refused.

I sank into deep despair, for who could deny
her finger pointing “J’accuse” where responsibility
for this truly lay (lie?).

marriage counselors demanded exorbitant premium
prepayments, Medicare said ha ha, and United Health
Care was united in their ***** opposable *******
but eloquent “Mais Non!”

As I write this, Climate Comservationists have confirmed
my sinking side is now receding at a rate of 4 cm/year.
The implicit implication was at the Great Melt Flood of 2050
that was coming to sink us, I would not be quietly floating down
the Hudson River out to a South Pacific isle, but would join Jason Bourne in the green crystal clear waters of the nearby East River, but unlike Jason, I can’t hold my breath for twenty minutes, ergo and ipso facto, I am doom-ed.

So I have started a GoFundMe to obtain a new airy mattress  capable of variable soft/hard differential setting on each side, with an inflatable air pumping gizmo just for the end of days.

Thanking you in advance and be assured lol your contributions will remain not anonymous.

Yours, Extra, Sincerely,

Ogdiddynash (Ogdiddynatsch)
the reason why my name has a variant spelling is because some in our family Americanized our Germanic uprooted spelling when
we came ove on the Titanic

— The End —