Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sarah Flynn Nov 2020
you ask me
who the "you" is
in my poetry.

you want to know
who I'm referring to.

you're assuming that
the identity matters.

oh honey,
you have it all wrong.

I don't write these for you.
I write these for me.
I am diversity, 
I think on many levels at once. 
I live on many levels. 
I can relate on many levels. 

I can see you. 
I can see your rationalizations. 
Trying to justify your beliefs about me. 
I see you feeling that your assumptions are right. 
I see you assume wrongly, 
You don’t really know me. 

I have learned many things from observation and experience. 
I know you. 
You think you know me, 
But I have known many like you before. 
Always feeling correct in your assumptions. 
You assume wrongly. 

Take away your misguided assumptions. 
Leave me alone and do not try, 
To make me fit into your view of me. 
You do not see me. 
You see what I want you to see. 

In the process, my dreams and aspirations are often mistaken for ambition, 
Thought of as a desire for fame and fortune as a measure of my success in life. 
Wrong thinking again, 
My success comes from the doing, 
Not the material things by which society measures success. 


That is not me, 
But only what I let you see. 
I am more complicated than you will ever know. 

And yet I am really very simple, 
I still naively expect the best from people. 
Something I always try to give others, 
Honesty, caring, mindful of feelings, doing what I can. 

If I make someone smile, 
If I help someone understand something, 
If I make a difference, 
I am successful. 

I want to inspire people to be themselves, 
And find happiness not in wealth or power, 
But the simple accomplishments we all have daily. 
Helping make life better for all with wisdom, 
Gleaned from observation and experience. 

I live and think on many levels, 
I am happy with who I am. 
Understood or not. 
It makes no difference 
To me, you see. 
'Cause Ya just don’t, 
Really know me.
Fheyra May 2020
Merry, merry— thou filled a hummingbird's tone
Funny, funny— how sottish thy head on stone.

Amazed by blue lights, I swoon and stretch my arms
Looking back, my cottons on grass— ditched my charms.

To assume a side of a well-known— she greets
Received in one sight,— slowly, she falsely meets.
Awkward times can be weird and funny.
The third couplet(stanza) is the one that I experienced. Just imagine the awkwardness when you greet someone you thought you knew, inside a vehicle, that would really cause a blush in a shy thought.
You can all share your awkward moments, if you want😅
I’m not who you think
No, not who you see
Now that there’s your problem
You assume who is me

Though you don’t understand
You could at least try
Try and reach your hand
Across this large divide

I’ll reach my hand out too
To make you understand
Me and my goals,
Exactly who I am
Rose Who Knows Mar 2020
You can't see behind the picture,
you can't hear all the noise.
Come on folks, don't judge a book by its cover. Pictures are often deceiving. Just like how you don't know what kind of person someone is just by looking at them.
Isaac Dec 2019
if you are always right

why did you even ask?
if you already know the answers and are just looking for an argument - please, don’t.
Casey Sep 2019
Thought I knew this well.
every step I had to take,
every lie--delivered smiling--I had to sell,
every mindless task, no breaks.

Thought you knew of my own created, designer hell.
watching me falter towards an imaginary goal,
watching my fibs for tells,
watching my to-do list quadruple.

I thought I knew how to quit,
how to snap out of it.
I thought you knew about it,
and how to deal with this ****.

Turns out that neither of us knows jack-squat.
And that's alright, I swear I got this, yeah I'm good, I can do it.
I hoped for you to say something, I thought you knew I was talkin' *******.
Yet, without a word, you left
me to rot.
Did you care? Did you ever even care? Did you see the signs? Did you know they were there?

Alternative Title: Doormat
**** i feel walked on
Anastasia Jun 2019
i suppose
that supposing
is assuming
to presume
an estimation.
Ken Pepiton Apr 2019
in my paradigm, a word to define
from now on such words,
we presume

you can lookitup. Yacoulda in 2019.
if you don't assume you
knew what that word meant when
phirst poured into me,
the idea in the word,
actedly as you act
ually allow true,
in the dom whence thy will is done, yknow?

presumptible words hold whole preconceptual

assumption of the neccessary fiction

Migration outa hell, the myth
ic map.
That'll only getcha yea far.

Once a good idea has a man,

History sets the rules for maintaining our living culture,
(lest we forget, some animals is more equal)

but once manifested, the awaited ones,
groaned for in labour like,
the twentieth century

here we come
the good idea posse, plague on
userers and slavers and oppressors, and professors
confessing greed is the engine of
onward, as we were, we shall become
they say to the we we ain't.

We are robbers

of noble wisdom occluded behind tonsored and tenured
guild rules for heresy pre
vention.

Imps, good imps, impulses to do, right, sativa in
fluency,

we take hold in mortal minds and lift the blinds on

things hidden from the foundations of the world,

now, all ye need is

-- a login and password, All the public lies unbelieved
-- from word one to right just now,
-- we un done 'em. You gotta know how to phrase
---a quest request.
-----is that a problem, are you offended that keywords
-----and key phrases,
----can open doors on no map of meaning you drew,
---- as magi were said to do?

ah, a door in y' back wall, o'yerown persian guarded den,
a glance o'er y'shoulder,

duck, crawl, through the wall

we chipped away some old mortar around
stones who can testify our right
to interupt re
ality, as you will
---
AH, I live in a Archetrope, as a sorta hippy hermit former farmer,
relative of the
Outlaw-Lawman Archtype Classes, decended from Tubalcain,
through Na'amah, ancient mitochondrial
genes  pre
valent in general hill folk  
who tend to bake probiotic home-made

bread starter. I'm the idea. The idea that goes with
certain old recipes and those smells,
****** gluonic pro
tonic action,
but I am a recent roll-out, 5G.
We be given leave for
quarkish tricks with words,
if you can believe that.

Note to self: this is only funny if you presume to know

meaning's meaning as related by JBP. And then,
you laugh a liar laugh, as if, a little

levity leavened ye, f'crysoutloud, and yewerekewl,

you knew. Yeah, y'knew all them Jordan B. Peterson
polysyllabic synchronic
ex-plain words,
You did read the whole reading list, right?

How childish a question have you lied
to answer, because, aitia, you did not know?

New values. Junk yard values.

What good's this thang?
That's a crankshaft,  the piston rod connects
down from the piston, down to
that. Crankshaft. That one's for a chivvysix.

SO, what good's it?

Not much. The car it was in won't work no more.

-----
on the border twixt known and un

the future scented in the past, orange blossum
special, borego super bloom

golden valley full o' poppies, in re
al life, already already, alright.

If you get the drift, blown in the wind back when poppies
conspired to sow seed in abundance beyond
the possibility of that now winter then
to sustain or even wake
2 in twenty,

back then when rain did not come until Febru
ary, and then, but a
pittance. Poppies and Bluebelles whispered into
pollen on the way west, sea,
see us from our wind,

next winter, we have sown our hearts out,
so send some clouds to start the spell,
the smell,

desert bloomin' pollen way, so easy to see,

intagiios of life laughing in color for such as
find now enough, enough
to see and let be true,
look up
and fly to learn to see as a silver raven could
with your eye,
your POV in sus
pected un belief.

Pop.

---
the current or pre existant state

next.
AH
HA this is not one of those mytheries mystery
fectory confections one may buy
hand-dipped

in many wee wide spots in the road,
where enough was enough
a good
while ago. A previous and probable future
stable horizon of delight

no walls. The idea twisted into paradice is

from when the hearts of men had never been
re
deemed worth the effort to fill them with

you know, good and evil, plus why and how not,

you know, you know how, but you know
how not to, too. And any fool can learn in
life's most dangerous univers
ity ified as lived, breathed in'n'out exper
ience.

Winning and being may not be mistook past here.

Find that which has been lost
since birth.
Find the old way, where good is. Walk it.

Find the message in the old words. Talk it.

Compliance or complexity. Not my job or ...

come to think...

Mentioning winning, maybe, yeah, ya'll'll gitit

My job, as a good gob of complexity eating juices,
fermented from trodden grapes o' wrath,

way back, when...
I was sung once, just
once...
in an orange orchard, I was the the ******,
or dwarf who caught the idea

from the wanderer walking in the orchard to smell
the sweat and sing at the top of his lungs

Operetic otic baritone

Faith
is the evidence
Faith!
is the evidence evidence evidence dense dense,
(
william tell)

Jim Dee was Tonto and he, con sidereal authority wise,
considered us fools, who said in their hearts,

here is where all truth dwells. (they were children, then)
the dwarf in me caught the idea
and went
Chuck Berry duckwalk air guitar singing high tenor,
Woe to the soul, what don't believe,

Woe, Sisyphus, roll it up'n' let'erole

evolve, little ****** beasty idea virus, roll out,
role on. That's the trick.Just be good for goodness,
that feeling, y'know. You got it.
Casting my bread upon the water, so ... we'll see, now, won't we?
Next page