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Paul C  Jun 2012
Hollister Model
Paul C Jun 2012
When I grow up,
I want to marry
A Hollister model.

Mother says
I should reconsider.
Seriously,
Reconsider.

But deep down,
I know
that's what I want.

Because behind all of
The airbrush
The diets
The workouts
The computer enhancements
There lies,
A woman.

And on that woman,
Somewhere,
there lies
Scar tissue?
A birthmark?
Or worst of all..
A zit.

Somewhere,
On that perfect woman
There lies,
An imperfection.

And that is why I love her.
Inspired by one of my favorite poems, "Guessing My Death" by CA Conrad.
Jocelyn Robinson Mar 2014
In case you haven’t realized,
Our society is constantly teeter-tottering on the border between pure brilliance and tragic defeat.
A constant struggle that has left a sour taste on the tip of common tongues and has left this nation burnt out and lazy.

Somewhere along the line,
The sparks inside of people’s bellies trickled out into a dull roar and America decided to give up.
They gave up on prosperity.
They gave up on life.
They gave up on each other.

Somewhere along the line,
The common man concluded that failure was an option and responsibility was irrelevant.
That the only essence of life lied within an 8x10 cubicle,
And it was ok to conform to a system that led us into debt,
A system that led us into war,
And a system that led us into a borderline depression.

Masses decided that indulgence was greater than integrity.
It wasn’t their responsibility to make.
A
Difference.

But, Somewhere along that same bitter line,
The burning flame that is our generation, pushed through the social sidewalk.
We began to walk,
We began to talk,
And we began to show a greater for the future than anyone could have hoped to imagine.

In the midst of a rocky start, we forgot who were.
We masked themselves in Abercrombie and Hollister
To hide the fact that we are something better then a text message,
A clique,
Or Facebook.

It became “uncool” to actually know what you’re talking about.
We filled our sentences with lots of “likes” and “you knows?”
We tend to attach an upward inflection to the end of every declarative sentence.
You know, even if it’s not like and question, you know??

On our own we learned to speak
With
Conviction.

With that conviction,
Hold your own,
Know your name,
And say what you need to say even if it makes your heart pound,
Your hands sweaty.

Simply, because we are the people of tomorrow.
It is our job to fix brainless society.
But it cannot and will not work,
Unless we know what we stand for.

There is no misconception of the work we have cut out for us.
There will be troubled times, there will be tears,
There will be hard work,
And some of us will be lost along the way.

But our story is just unfolding and we have the power to
Change
The
World.

We’ve all heard the skeptic’s tale.
Skeptical teachers,
Skeptical parents,
And nonbelievers.
Raising doubts that we are too young,
That we are too naïve,
And that we’re utterly indifferent and careless to ever be a part of something bigger than ourselves.

Well, talk is cheap.
Make no mistake that there is beauty and potential in every
Single.
One of us.
Wake up today knowing that we've made it,
Know that the time has come to start living,
Changing,
But keeping true to our hearts.
L Smida Oct 2012
Handed a drink
Smells of grape
Clear strong liquids
Black plastic cup
***** robed priest
Fair Snow White
Queen of hearts
***** canteen Indian
Hollister tall guy
Jeremy Matt Jake
Beer pong games
Intense with time
3 hours later
Winners and losers
Rookies against all-stars
My big mouth
"Flip cup anyone?!"
Four on four
Too intense now
Every round played
Too much beer
Way too fast
Louder and louder
Crazier and crazier
Drink after drink
Chug faster chug
Lost count already
16? Or 23?
Not slowing yet
Out of mind
Last game now
One on one
No more beer
Liqueur in cups
Don't even kno
Tap down up
Chug chug chug
Flip cup once
Winner me winner
One more game
Asks a stranger
What's one more?
Okay I say
Lost this match
But that's okay
Leave the room
Pop a squat
Not a couch?
But it works
Spinning room spins
Blurry figures there
Not too sure
What's going on
Black out hard
Can't hear anything
Can't see anything
Every once-in-a-while
"Are you okay?"
I can't feel
I can't answer
Black out again
Lost in deep
Seas of waves
Awake for seconds
How did I
Get on the
Steps to upstairs?
People drag me
Up and up
Black out again
Black black black
Dark dark dark
Oceans of drunkenness
10 o'clock a.m.
Holy ******* ****
What is this?
A soft pillow?
A warm blanket?
Someone was nice
I look behind
Me and there's
3 strangers sleeping
Next to me
What's that smell?
Puke on my
Jeans and clothes
Pillow in puke
How do I
Not remember puking?
I do not
Remember a thing
After flip cup
Lay for a
Few more minutes
Gain enough balance
To sit up
I see Mary
In the hallway
"Liiisaaaa!!!
How are you?"
What the ****
I feel okay
Not bad actually
Until I stand
Make my way
Down the steps
Bathroom is trashed
Sink ripped off
Of the wall!!
Beer, bottles, shots
Everywhere ******* disaster
I feel fine
But the smells
Make me puke
Think, never again
******* crazy night
Stories of me
Retold to me
You went hard
You're so little
You drank alot
You played every
Single game of
Flip cup dude!
I saw you
With your head
In a bucket
Puking so hard
I couldn't leave
You like that
So me and
A few people
Dragged you upstairs
Hahaha thanks guys
Blah cupcake blah
Pizza ******* blah
Apple pie moonshine
Stale white bread
Memories kinda lost
Everyone had fun!
The ******* end
Till next time
Westley Barnes May 2014
Where buses still elapse with Time
Down straight Dame Street
The Trees are satellites that allow Children to look up
and let the pavement breath.

Earthen Columns that gate the Boombox Clubhouse tint
Flanked by the Yeoman Guards of Hollister
but forget to pay the same compliment
outside of American Apparel
Where Teenagers dream out fantasies
of lamp-lit, flash-shot
worship-worthy objectification
in a converted loft in the real New York
Their headphones spring streams of bright optimism
as they cradle knitted knee-high socks.

Take the curve round Trinity College
and laugh past the rumours
that it may soon float on Dow Jones
and dodge past the charity advertisers
Strutting over campbags of sleeping homeless
to Lemon Cafe for an overpriced Mocha
Which regardless deflates the sheen-covered hollowness
of green-comfy Starbucks

and learn the subtleties of speaking lightly
to dark-jaceketed Blonde girls
Whose eyes seem to sparkle "Yes, we have sipped
on Veuve Clicquot at reserved tables on Graduation nights
at Cafe En Seine"
-"Where Oscar Wilde might have drank"
- "..Had he been alive."

Then speculate on the best Festivals and whose
Films and Books are over-hyped and under-appreciated
and the after-College Gossip on who broke-up or stayed together
or who hooked up even though they shouldn't have
or regretted it

and who's doing a paid internship and who's moving abroad

and afterwards charmingly tease their superficial attitudes
as meanwhile they secretly take photos
to upload on Instagram
and later you'll fake-admonish them
for how they did this behind your back
while you were staring into the lake
in St. Stephen's Green.

When the moon no longer glazed the water
and had receded its contrast to the farthest grass
and you decide to take the last bus home.

Throughout
Caution Glints The Vowels
and Brands them too.
All caps intentional-for emphatic purposes.
Niki Elizabeth Sep 2015
"i love you, but i can't do this right now.
i need a break to think.
we can try again in a bit."

Do you know how stupid that is?
You don't get to pick and choose when to be with me.
You don't get to wait 'til it's easier and less stressful.
Life will always be stressful,
and love is never easy.
I guess I should have expected this,
from a boy who still likes Hollister.
Nathan Millard Dec 2012
I could smell your polo cologne from a mile away…

It wasn’t an overpowering smell but I knew it was coming
Even before I could smell it
I can still remember walking to the shower and passing by your room
Fumes drifting out like the vapor in a Hollister doorway
Only the dark clothing store was never as inviting as your room
Not in a comforting way, like a quaint house or camp fire invites you closer
                But in the way that apple invited Eve
   As if to say… “I dare you”

I will never hear jingle bells the same
Or be able to listen to Mac Miller without your voice singing in my head
Because it was so annoying having you loudly sing at the side of my head
But now it’s quiet, too quiet
Your croaking voice isn’t mutilating the symphony of car horns and street noises any more
I realize now however I preferred the musical chaos of having you hang out with me

This is not a love poem
This is a…
This is an…
This is an I guess I know how I feel too late poem
An I guess I should have said this poem

But without the absence of something we often don’t realize what it meant to us

You’re gone…
Not dead, you didn’t leave me, not a dramatic departure
You were forced to move
Due to your own stupid actions

After all I guess it was me who told you the reason to stay in a certain place can’t be a person

I would eat my words in my sleep if I could, because my common logic won’t allow it
but in my dreams I will; in my dreams I have a hopeless side of me, not counting every tick in a day to make sure it still runs the same as all the others, unlike the waking me does

But when I wake up those words still hang in the air and I realize they were best left said anyways

I think I wish I had said good bye
But with one too many letters un-replied to, I wouldn’t know how to say it
Because I don’t know which you to say good bye to
The you sitting in the hall with me at midnight
                The you who’s face drifts a little too close to mine
The you who can cry and admit he isn’t perfect
The you who knocks over stuff and makes a mess when we are cooking
The you who holds a stapler over his chest saying “dare me”
The you pretending he doesn’t know me
Or the one pretending that he hates me
I saw your many faces and don’t know which one to say goodbye to

So it’s probably best no good bye was said at all but I still feel unresolved
You stick to me, like a burr or a thorn
This feeling that I could have done more
I could have told you how beautiful you were so you wouldn’t try too hard to fool people into thinking it
Because your price tags and diet made you look appealing to some but not me

No… I was drawn to your eyes and how they always match your shirt
Your chipped tooth framed in your goofy smile
The laugh that escaped your nervous lips as you say something I know you don’t tell most people

I wish I could have told you it was going to be okay:
You would be okay if you learned who you was
It would get better if you stopped trying so hard
You can’t help your ****** orientation so you need not hide
You don’t have to hate yourself because you think some people hate you
Because some people didn’t and you made them want to try…

In ways I was an improved vision of yourself
And you were an improved vision of myself

If only I could run the football field, be attractive, be cool
Have people wanting me and wanting to be me
If only you were confident in who you were, able to sing, dance and express yourself,
Have people trust you and see that you aren’t afraid of judgment

But I’m not you and you aren’t me, I smell like trees and you smell like Polo
I am not afraid of myself, and you are
I try to be honest and you try to be someone else
I am still standing here and you aren’t…
brooke  Mar 2012
Hollister.
brooke Mar 2012
I hate to see the life
you've created without me
because I don't think I've
created one without you
(c) Brooke Otto
KATIE666 Feb 2013
Senior year filled with bliss
Senior year full of lists
life lessons we've all learned
no Qur'an to be burned

acceptance and tolerance is taught
things we ought not do
and things we ought to

skipping classes oh what fun
getting lots of essays
never done enough
We've all got pretty tough
after four years time
spent on
homework
friends
experiencing life
is defiantly sublime

getting ready for the future
yet we still cant see the whole **** picture
kind of nervous
kind of scared
at the end of the year
when we'll really see who really cared
to be true friends til the bitter end
through all our ups and all our downs
clean out the friend list
get ready for the plunge

each day is another last
memories we shall forget
names that used to have purpose
are now found meaningless

find a purpose
find a place
society dictates
this is our anthem
that although times are bad
working is all you have

each election getting meaner
every day a little harder
HOPE MY ***
this is all a clever lie

high school teaches us so much
yet none is remembered
none is obtained
vague concepts taught to the blind masses
When will the people learn?

To STAND UP
Stand up against corruption
and illegal government spending-WHOOPS
guess that was left outta the text books

Stay civil
stay sane
Follow the "American culture"
Eat fat
stay thin
this is hypocrisy we now live in

Vote for Republican
Vote for Democrat
doesn't matter in the end
they are the same
Abercrombie and Fitch
VS
Hollister
Same brand
different label

Don't you see?
Can't you see?
This hypocrisy....
is real
as real
as you
or Me

End of line
I always make friends with homeless people. Maybe it’s the *** stained teeth and friendly personalities that draws me too them. When I’m in town you can find me with laughing people, who hold nothing to their being by the end of the day. I love them. They’re so happy, grateful and remind me of everything I want to hold in my heart. They are the sun, surrounded by dark clouds but still radiating through the grey. The public of Surrey in their white designer tops and overpriced jeans will never realize this. Call me a sucker but I would give everything to these people. The friendlier they are the more they deserve it. They always seem to be the ones who have been in their situation for the longest and have tried every method of getting the necessities we indulge on. The saddest, and grittiest are usually new to their world. It’s such a cool world mind. All of them sing punk music, create such beautiful art and tell the most interesting woven stories. They are deep. Very deep. They have been to one end and back, up and down. Being surrounded by these people can be dangerous at times mind. One day I could be engulfed by a dark crowd. By dark I mean, what parents and young teens imagine when they think about going out to the grungy parts of town; the stereotypical stench of creepy men glowing with peoples fear of them. Rapists, *** traffickers, hard-core drugs, drunk men breathing down your neck and pulling roughly on your arm. I’ve been kissed on the cheek by a drunken dark mess, but he soon got punched by another. They respect people consent, children and females of any age. I don’t care if it’s a sexist old age thing for men to feel protective over women. Women are the most scared when regarding this world. I was scared. It was only a kiss on the cheek but that could lead on to so much more if left to slide. That’s why he got punched. You don’t cross boundaries. It’s the same with any person; have or have not. At the end of the day, I find the characters with scruffy attire and a perfume of ****, cigarettes and beer more comforting and safer than those who breed Topshop, Topman, Hollister Apple and Urban Outfitters. I am the kid all parents would fear to let out on their own. And they should. I’m going to get myself in trouble one day, talking to strangers and hanging around gritty areas alone. But it’s better than when I used to shoplift. And anyway…I feel a lot happier after I hang round these people.
Why are people scared of people?
Lexi Cairns Jun 2015
The greatest mistake we make is teaching our children that monsters are not real
They are, but not in the way we imagine them
They do not hide under our beds
Do not even look like what we've been taught was evil, can't even see what is lurking
Inside of their heads
Movie villains are easily spotted in all black, ***** and cackling
The things that hide in the dark are not demons
I know
You're not a monster, you're a human just like me
Easy to pity because we both cry and bleed
You are not a monster
But you have seeped into my veins like poison
It does not matter who I am with
You will rise like the ocean and swallow me until I can't breathe
Wrapped in the arms of a lover
I freeze
His hands are not his hands his teeth are not his teeth
They are the hunters
They are yours
I know you're nothing but a ghost now
It's only the shadows of memory that seize me
But i'm back in that room and the door is locked
And I am locked and I am trapped
by hungry stares and greedy hands
Prowling like a lion and I am the prey tonight
Shouldn't have let the wolf inside
But you were dressed as my friend in an Abercrombie shirt and Hollister jeans offering what I thought was a comforting hand
But I am locked in your claws and they tear through my clothes
So I use the only defense left to me
The last resort mother nature provides
I play dead
Hoping my frozen body will somehow deter you
Turned off every light in myself one by one
The city in a power outage
Stepped out of my body like a ghost
Cold and unknowing
Hide from myself the way you cover a small child's eyes
so they wont see the ******
But pretending not to see it will not save you
Warning signs are there for a reason
Trigger warning trigger warning
I ignored all of the flashing signs
Why would I guard myself against someone I claimed to be like a brother?
Blind-sighted
Thrown off the cliff and your arms drag me down like an anchor
I am already dead
Wishing I could drown not even bothering to hold my breath
Your smile used to be so inviting but now your eyes are loaded guns and your teeth are like knives waiting to tear me to shreds
And I cannot run and I cannot hide
My body is mine my body is mine my body is mine
I know that he is not you
But you could be anyone
And in a way you already are
Because 77% of rapes are committed by someone the victim knows
And in a survey of college men 51% said that they would **** a woman if they knew they would not be caught
All the voices are yours
Telling me that I must have wanted it, because "Look at what i'm wearing."
Every shadow following me
Still hunting me as I walk to my car at night
Always prey as I look behind my shoulder every two seconds like a twitch
And I run so I can get there before you do
Every time
Before you can climb in like you did before
"No" was a word you could not comprehend, could not understand
But if dogs can learn it and listen then so can you
You were not entitled to enter my car, my house, my bed or my body and especially not my soul
I do not desire your attempts at worship
Will not let you take off my pants so you can
"Make me feel like a real woman"
I am fire burning every place your hands have touched
My body is not a piece of meat to be sacrificed on an altar
Not yours for the taking
I am a temple, a sanctuary
And you are not my God.
Lee Jan 2013
I stagger cold through the halls of my indoctrination.
I do not wish to be seen.
A thousand ******* eye's gawk silent from there checker pattern perches
and my chains and prizes jingle
and attract stares
with each bounding step.
I can no longer stand my hours in this house of heresy.
Loose lipped **** lovers
spill secrets over bile chowder
chuckling about a days delicacies
and social secrets.
Second rate at best,
they all know there lover boy on the Hollister bag
probably takes it in the *** more than the average ***
and still they swoon blind batty eyed at the queens that prance the halls.
I am unamused
Feel abused
giving out my finest hobby to any takers.
I'm being used.
How am i supposed to ******* death sweet and smokey at this rate.
Like some fluff tailed hair
I hustle off with my ticking life in toe
the numbers at my waste spell ruin.
I'm late.
I'm late.
If only I had some red haired queen of hearts
to behead me.
A better fate.

— The End —