Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2019
Variations on OK: “I'm ok... as in just okay :)“

ah, me making the global rounds,
with the poem interns in tow, observing poet patients,
me, the anti-troll meme, asking the lonely legions,
“what’s up, just checking in,”

responsa included the nuanced range of variations
of the simplest terms,

Variations on OK: “I'm ok... as in just okay :)“

the normal curve of emotional disturbances, falling mists,
category 5 storms and verbal cover-up girl makeup all represented by
OK

this, then, the OK stuff of human poetry, the plain, the innocuous, inadmissible guiltily non-confessions that are the infectious complexity of heartache, humongous jealousy of those surficially
just innocently happy, those who fear of failing,
longing for what was and can not be true once more,
so with not-even-a-serious-word a reminder of our masks when meeting Quo Vadis,
the replies come in summarizing shades of:

OK: “I'm ok... as in just okay :)“

a perfectly good response, shadings and gradations
that shout volumes deserving of interpretations, talmudical exegesis,
across continental contestation,^^^meaning obviously that the contra-opposite is likely what’s meant,
all indirect giving access when delving into their abyss,
as in the rock n’ roll verse states,

“just dropped in to see what condition your condition is in”^

okay.

yes, it’s true okay is better than not okay,
which is better than the catch all meaningless of the
OK....the one, that dribbles off into air hanging, silent albatross

but the insertion of the modifier

just

makes the meaning of the fully, half born, sentence summation diagrammable except
OK
is not valid in life size, grownup version game  of Scrabble(d) hearts

this is how I spend my everyday vacation days
exploring everything human

the graze of a hand, the longest slow journey of a singlet tear,
a child’s shrieking glee, the nightmares gasps
when they woke the awoken,
the intelligible whimpering vocabulary of the new born innocent,
the spackled, patching of the speckled cracking of the
semi-autonomous, wish-it-wasn’t human,
my, busted-heart

so when two lovers continental shelves do not meet,
but graze each other, altering the landscape of emotions,
OK, just, okay is
sedimentary weak but perfect

you are the interloper ghost,
who now asks “how ya doing,”
the famous just “checking in,”
and
in the sliding spaces where mountain ranges get created,^^^

the O in Okay is a black hole disguised

I'm ok... as in just okay :)”

though this is a Buffalo Springfield “ain’t exactly clear”
you accept and understand for aching hearts are the
specialty of the maison

and that is all I have to say on the matter.

OK?
<>

3:21am Monday September 30 ~ 10:38pm Friday October 4, 2019
Jack Jenkins Sep 2019
A brief breath stolen away
Wishing on a dandelion the rest will follow suit
Wishing the empty page would match my empty heart
Anxiety suffocating me, I'm barely breathing
Distant dark waters call my name to the shore
Lull my senses and deprive my feelings
The right side of my mind hopes
The left side of my mind despairs
My heart loves my head but my head says my heart is weak
Nothing is ever good enough and peace cannot stay
The voice in my throat often lies to me
Coping mechanisms just aren't enough anymore
Even suicide says she has nothing to offer me
In the briefest moment of honesty
I don't want this anymore
Whatever this is
//A reflection of who I am when nobody is looking//
sankavi Sep 2019
:)
i think I'm ok
i feel ok

i think im happy
i think things in my life are finally going well

i know it sounds stupid
but i strongly believe all things happen for a reason
even if you're at your lowest
trust me it won't last

if something terrible has just happened
dont worry it'll teach you something important

every single person on this planet impacts someone in a positive way somehow

i don't know
i just believe whoever created this universe has a plan for us
and all you can do is trust that

I'm ok
everything is going to be ok
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2019
Hineni, Hineni; I’m ready, my lord.”  
(For Evangeline Ruth Hope
)

<>

”Hineni is Hebrew for “here I am,” and is the response
Abraham gives when God calls on him
to sacrifice his son Isaac. It is also the name of a
prayer of preparation and humility, addressed to God”


<>

what you do not know
is that this word,
was spoken with a fist beating
a pin into the praying man’s chest

recited daily,
shades of hopeful, reverent resonance,
a shaded resolution, disguised as a quavering variable,
a statement, a questioning, an unsteady surety,
all of the above

this word, rooted in my genetic consciousness,
been ready repeated since my first whispering

was I ten years aged?

first time, full on bowing
on the synagogue floor, not fully understanding or
ready to confess my selfish need for forgiveness,
my forehead resting on my stubbed fingers resting on carpet,
worn thin by my predecessors ancestors,
who now comprehend more, but then, never enough

these same fingers, that write this collective,
                                  Hineni,
a word repeated oft, flavoring of the who
of who I am, a training in soul fracking from
early childhood, its import, powerful beyond
today’s identity revisionist empowering

let me plainly speak, in the original language
taught to me with that other tag along, English,
a lingua franca, a dialect that can never capture
a soul presenting himself in substantiated readiness

for the whatever exists in between
hallelujah and hineni, where the rubber soul
hits the road, stumbling on hands and knees
on a forest path of roots and soil, where sunlight breaks tween
branches, are road signs to look up, look down, look within

I know your name,
Evangeline Ruth Hope
analyzed its components,
cleverly constructed Greek and Hebrew rooted,
bearer of good tidings, following Ruth in, to hope,
you a Moabite in Mormon Utah, preparing
yourself for exposure, practicing humility
unceasingly seeking

good

that is how it should be

cannot translate well enough
what was this gift given to me
learning as a youth, a wanderer, tribal member
where beseeching is second nature,

and accepting personal responsibility fully cardinal,
fiddling prayers while standing unsteady on
the roofs of extreme shakiness

hineni is then but this:
a prideful admission of strength

ready ready ready, here I am,
completely unready for the unknown future foretold,

hineni I know

here I am,
ready or not,
find me so I can be found,
cease, help me cease, my foundering,
confident in my willingness to
find a way


netanel
9/12/19
Truly alone here.
Garbage only in the mirror:
If it's true they are a reflection of me.
Though it's not, not at all.
We are not one, not at all.
I am superb.
They are trash.
I was never like them,
Always better.
They lied to make me hurt
For they were jealous and less.
I am Grand, beyond them and above, far above.
Me.
I Rule.
I'm Awesome.
And Grand.
Sweet, loving, gentle, kind - everything they never were, but lied to be.
I'll go my own way.
Hallelujah.
King
Nina Sep 2019
I am still patiently waiting
for the day to come
where I wake up
and smile
kinda sad idk recouvering
Masha Yurkevich Sep 2019

Today,
I will give up.

All of these problems and struggles,
I've had enough.

I don't want this weight
on my shoulders,
I want all of this to be over.

My strength  is thin,
and I'm beginning to fall apart within.

Today,
I want to give up.







But I don't.



I don't want to give up.
But do I have to?
kain Sep 2019
One of these days
I'll fall in love for sure
All these cinematic
Shots of me sitting alone
Looking depressed
With a cat on my lap
Will have something
To culminate to
I'll be the star
Of a lesbian romance
That will wow the crowds
Shock gays through the ages
And land me where
I truly belong
Hello? Yes, it's me again. I was just wondering if you ever decided to get around to sending me a perfect lesbian lover. The last one didn't work out... yeah, I know. No? You want me to die alone? Fantastic. Alright, I'll let you go now. Just... yes, I'm gonna go cry, is that a problem? Okay, good. Buh-bye!
Colm Sep 2019
Just let me sit neath the wild blue yonder
Brooding like coffee on a quiet thought
With eyes full of horizons
I’m found in the lost
Brooding like coffee on a quiet thought
Next page