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Suki G Apr 27
They call me a good girl
and so, I’ve always tried
but somehow, I can’t seem to find
the shining white pearl inside
and so, I always try
to find the good in others around
and hope that in some way, somehow,
it rights all my wrongs.
They call me a good girl —
I think I’m too good even for that.
They’ve walked over me,
stepped on my feet,
crushed down my throat,
trampled across my chest,
pinned my hands and legs,
clipped my very wings,
and for it all, they simply say
that I am a good girl.
I wonder if I’d still be good
if I shake my mane and roar
and thunder claps at my voice
and the earth trembles below
as I trade my wings for talons
and claw my way out
and soar a thousand feet high
and take back what’s rightfully mine.
But what does it matter?
They may call me names,
but I know mine:
I’m a good girl.
NaPoWriMo 2021 (April 14) Prompt: Write a poem delving into the meaning of your first/last name.
Suki G Apr 4
Stretched wide across mountains and valleys,
clusters of hills and springs of rivers,
a soft brown veil dusted with gold.
Take a long nail, pry it aside,
come, see what’s within for a modest fine.
My flesh, a soft pink for a childhood much missed,
my blood, a loud red for all the shocks I’m full of,
my bone, I’m not too sure for none have travelled far
but if you pressed me hard enough, you’d feel it -
scrolls of poems written and yet to be,
my tongue a ribbon binding them all,
my teeth an ivory chest to contain them,
and sweet lips carefully locking them for now.
A treasure trove awaits those
of my blood and water,
presented on a silver platter under
a soft brown veil dusted with gold
stretched wide across mountains and valleys,
clusters of hills and springs of rivers.
annh Mar 13
Peace abides in the gentle velvet folds of patient time;

When industry is forgotten and rigid right angles

Give way to soft currents of inspiration;

Lacking definition, judgement or expectation

My yardstick shrinks and disintegrates into nothingness...

Inadequate to the task of measuring infinity.

‘Where is beauty to be found? In great things that, like everything else, are doomed to die, or in small things that aspire to nothing, yet know how to set a jewel of infinity in a single moment?’
- Muriel Barbery, The Elegance of the Hedgehog
Grey Feb 19
“What is a poem?”
My English teacher asks,
then barely pauses before answering his own question.
Lists of rules and reasons
spill from his mouth,
so many that he’s cut off by the bell.

I refrain from raising my hand
and telling him that anything can be a poem
if you want it to be.

The painting on the wall,
the fleeting peace that comes
from looking at the moon,
the little boy whose hands are already rough
and calloused with use.

Nothing makes a poem
but our minds and thoughts and wishes
for “poem” is just a word
but what it gives us is ours to decide.

Maybe even this is a poem,
though my English teacher would disagree.
2/18/2021
Felt like trying something new.
I Stanislavski my way through life
I am and I am not
a piece of *****
I put myself in situations
scenarios racing through my head
and try to imagine
exactly what it would feel like
to be dead

Experiencing
my inner theatrical sense of self
dynamism;
the activeness of an energetic personality
how sad to know
that this is not
nor will it ever be my faculty
"Hi my names Suzan, I work at Applebee's."
Succumb to the attraction,
And you just might find
The greatest marvel the
World failed to define.
Leah Carr Nov 2020
leah (noun/verb)

noun
1. An object that causes others pain or discomfort, and is property of somebody. It can manipulate a person into developing an attachment to it, only to hurt them on an even deeper level.
Eg. The leah moved onto its next victim.

Synonyms:
problem, issue

verb
2. To cause difficulty or suffering, or to "mess things up".
Eg. She leahed the family reunion.

Synonyms:
aggravate, worsen
I decided that an unconventional poem would be best to describe my emotions today.
JcA Oct 2020
Love sickness (ləv-sik nes):

n.

Of which you are both cause and cure
Love's dictionary
Devastation

Noun

I Inspecting the wreckage,they say it’s a good thing you weren’t there, that you didn’t suffer. You bite your tongue. They do not know what good is.This is not it.


II  You feel free. You know you shouldn’t, that it’s wrong. You smile anyway.


III You suddenly feel like you are drowning and no one is noticing. You cover your face and begin to cry.
Sometimes beauty can be so simple
No glitter nor magic in finer details
Something authentic and raw, like crystal
You can be as you are, simply beautiful

Your definition of beauty bares no need
For fancy words or deeper meanings
I have found that my definition of beauty
More than a definition, it is but a feeling

I look at the cloud cluttered filled sky
It brings me the sweet sound of rain
Then it turns into a star speckled night
I feel a sense of beauty again

I hear the smooth rhythm of an upbeat song
With lyrical play bounded to the music
Then another piece plays only on rhythmic sound
A calm, soothing, soul touching acoustic

I find myself gravitating to beautiful things
Things that flourish within their elements
Beauty to me, is not only what shines or sings
But a story told through genuine sentiment
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