o **** that fake moody mockup?
the one with teary laugh! too quick feet!
etymology; from rival to flying to fall
brims over leftover feelings
burn the stage & hope it's not overdramatic
what to run from? barks every tree
8pm morning coffee for a lost boy
There was a prompt to introduce yourself in 50 words, I guess that's that?
Feeling The Mysterious Ways
We Wore Comfy Caps
We Wondered In Silent Wonder
When Should We Know Some More
Poems need your listening,
Though I'll do the reading,
And though it has the rhyming.
You need to feel the feeling,
Hope my poem will be heart touching,
And I hope it will leave u smiling.
I was born in December 2000 at 11:53 pm
Miss Congeniality came out that year
I still watch that movie
I’m 5’4.5”…on a really good day
I’m 133 pounds
I don’t know how to dance
And I’m a sucker for over-sugared, terrible coffee
Man, choking on sugar seems like the sweetest way to die!
I’m still learning how to be an adult
It’s difficult because I want my parents to constantly be there
But I get annoyed with them when they’re constantly there
I like Naked smoothies…. a lot
I’ve been told that I’m really bad at telling jokes
I’m bad at telling jokes because I go into too much detail
I’m bad at telling jokes because I still don't get them
I have a strange fascination with hugs
Ask my best friend, it’s true
I think it’s because you can’t see the other person’s face when you hug them
So what if that hug means something else you don't even know about?
Yesterday, I tripped over my brain, landed on my heart, and it shattered like a broken phone against the pavement
I'm afraid of writing an obituary
Maybe because I wonder if it's going to be written by me for me
I'm sure this sounds weird but I wonder what my laptop say about me when I’m not around
I wonder what the Word documents would say if they could read what I’ve written on their skin
I wonder what my pens would say,
If they knew,
If they knew that I use them,
To pour out my heart and soul on to something that can never actually love me back
My name is Jace
It’s a name my best friend gave me
I enjoy snuggling, singing and crying until I’m smiling again
But I don’t let my guard down as often as I should
I have solar power compassion
And a battery operated smile
My hobbies include:
Faking my confidence to my friends,
Hiding behind a past that doesn’t define me,
And trying to convince my smile that it's not fake
I wrote this for a Hamlet project.
She came with her friend
wanting an introduction
but I played the clown.
She never asked.
I wouldn't have been
the child I was?
Who is he/she?
If you see once
You will not forget
That, he/she is
There: Let me define you
I knew I had to take you out the moment I saw you.
You told me, ‘in my dreams.’
What do you think I’ve been doing?
You’re the girl of my dreams.
Oops, I’m awake, I guess I prefer the real you.
I don’t have to say much, I just have to say enough.
But with you, what is enough?
You’re everything that shuts a guy down.
Everything that seethes glaciers.
Everything that turns me on.
I don’t want to have children.
But I see my heirs in your eyes.
I love you, and that scares you.
Maybe the real reason you’re scared, is because you want me too.
Time Expired and thus Unfettered
Like dusty files unopened on their shelves - serene and calm;
Behind locked doors these memories of war lived in my mind.
Distant images, long archived, evolved in Vietnam
But buried ‘neath the present of a very different kind.
But now those dusty files have tumbled to the ground.
Upended by the vigour of this fine new freedom I have found.
Without the shackles of that other life I find
The memories fresh and sometimes pleasant to my mind.
And so I take them up and dust them off these files long hidden.
Peruse each ancient, tattered memory page by page.
And let their content to my mind project unbidden
The flickering image of a long lost distant, youthful age.
And with these verses I have made for you, shaped by my pen, a light.
That you too might view the shadowed contents of my new found files.
Described between the lines of each is what it was to fight
A war, the grim visage of which was seldom wreathed with smiles.
But I conjure you look closely at these careful, recent woven lines of mine.
This tapestry conceals ideas that oft’ belie the written word.
Look underneath to seek the reason why my thoughts sometimes repine
Against a patterned camouflage which sometimes makes them seem absurd
Chimerical these hidden images that tumble on the edge of time?
Yes, but if you use the mirror of your own reality to construe,
To grasp the presence of that conflict these days almost always called a crime
Then might you judge these portions that I gladly offer you.
Written in 1988 when suddenly I realised that no longer being a soldier I could speak my mind.
When I am introduced
With the new one
For a kind information
I have nothing to do
Theme: Instinct matters
there is no time limit on grief
so i’ll write until my hoarse throat heals
and i’ll sing until my heart stops bleeding
Feb 18, 2019, 9:11 AM