Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Alysha Feb 8
Some days, I just want to be blind. Blind to the world. To the crimes, to the kinds of people that exist.


If I was blind, I wouldn't have to spend all the time trying to decipher how someone could be so cruel. How they could think it would be so cool to shoot up a school.


February 14th is a holiday, is Valentine's Day. A day of love, not hate, and should not act as the day of a shooting. Is a day where seventeen lives were lost as a result of a guy who felt a little lost. A man who needed to move on.


Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. A safe place where people go to learn without concern of dying. On Valentine's day, seventeen lives are gone as everything that should have gone right had gone wrong. I mean, come on, why is it seen as an event that everyone saw, but cannot correct? Is there a vet for people who act like dogs?


Some days, I just want to be blind. Some days, I look out of my window and see trees blowing in the breeze, and it used to put me at ease,  but those old opportunities have been seized.


Fire. Burning. Horror. Forest fires in national parks. Places were bark used to decorate trees, little did everyone one know, this was a slowly killing disease.


We didn't have time to grovel, never mind write a novel. It's too bad you have to pick up the remains out of the rubble. In the background, I mumble, “wasn’t there supposed to be no casualties?” I mean can anyone sneeze without having to bend at the knees to the ultimate destroyer. Surprise. Surprise. Don't catch flies because you didn't open your eyes and realize that there is no easy end to all of these crimes.


Some days, I just want to be blind. Blind to everything. Blind to kids my own age. From the gentle voices to the ones filled with rage.


Walking toward a Target exit and seeing a wall of missing children, half of them probably screamin’ looking for their parents, scared and searching for some flair, of hope.


Most of them most likely thought that it could never happen to them, but here they are sitting in the middle of a stranger’s den. Scared and alone. Wondering when, or if there’s is a time that they will get to go home.


You know, the funny thing is that though it might be a stranger. You might not even think that they can pose a threat, let alone danger. Think about it, your kidnapper could be a lady, old and sweet, or so you think before she starts look a little less fragile and meek. And this makes you feel weak, well this will teach you not to go to the store to buy something as simple as meat.
Another old piece. Rhyming included
Kai Schultz Jan 11
A friend
You are so special
88 days without you
88 days of tears
88 days staying up praying
to the God I didn't believe in
88 days of praying, hoping for a miracle.

Such a brave friend you are to me
so brave and strong and amazing.
I'm proud to know you
I'm proud to see
your face once again
now that you aren't on posters
as 'Missing'.

I saw all these missing posters
when I heard the news
I took time
to go around
and cross out 'Missing'
Then put 'Found' on the posters
and now the posters
are still up
Along with another one
that me and Chase and Lexa put up
that I made
that says:

'Jayme Closs is FOUND'
God I'm so happy that I'm in tears. She was always a good friend of mine, always such a good person, I kept hoping. I never gave up on thinking she was alive. I'm so relieved.
Kai Schultz Jan 5
Growing up, I remember always being in some danger
Someone would take a dangerous,
dark,
interest in me.

I would go home from school
Tell momma that a boy a few years older than me
Liked me but was scary
And wanted to take me away
She would say to others
"Such a silly girl,
With her silly little stories"

This boy, he never lost interest in me
He would draw me pictures
And take photographs of me on the swings
saying it was fun
saying it was harmless.

Soon enough he started to touch
to touch in the most intimate of places
him and his friend
they would touch me and i didn't know that it was wrong.
when I did find out maybe a year or so later,
I told mum
I told her and she didn't believe me because I was so young yet.
"Such a silly girl,
With your silly little stories."

Time passed, and he grew more dangerous.
He wanted to take me away still.
He wanted to 'keep me safe'
and he did
he took me when he got his license,
the day he got it
he took me and for two years
nobody knew

he had told my friend who i'd been staying with
that I was in London studying with my brother
oh what a lie
what a wonderful, believable lie.
And for two years
we were on the road

he implanted thoughts into my brain
conditioned me to behave,
to allow him to
yet I wasn't all there
I was a zombie
and he used me for as long as he could
then brought me back

people saw i had changed,
some even asked why
i told them
i told them that the boy was crazy
and that he took me and beat me until i listened
beat me until i said yes
until i loved him
until i was that zombie
with that stockholm syndrome
and all they said was
"Such a silly girl,
with her silly little stories"

he stuck around
because nobody believed me
he eventually got me to shut up about it
him and his friend
they touched me
they kept doing awful things
used me...
i became a mommy, and yet
my own mommy didn't believe me STILL.

eventually the cops caught on
they put him in jail a few times
but never long
and mum still didn't believe me.
she thought it was something
like a misunderstanding
that the two boys were angels
and whenever he was out again
he would say to everyone else
convincing them i was ******,
"Such a silly little girl,
with such silly little stories."

I started eating less
when he called me fat
i cut down on a lot of the eating i used to do
so he would still love me
when nobody else would
because in that twisted way
i did love him
and i needed him
to feel the same

i also started wearing less around him
in those moments when him and I were alone
because I needed to please him
i needed to know he would indeed love me
and i thought he did
he said he did
i swear to the gods he did

then he was put in jail again
and i was left with his friend
his best friend
the other one who liked to touch
and at the same time i was kicked out
me, mum, and my little sister
we moved in with mum's friend
and i got into a messy ****** relationship
with mum's friend's son
and he used me
a lot
the first night
he thought i was asleep
it started with a cuddle because
i was sad
and when he thought i was asleep
he started touching
grabbing
moving his hands and fingers into places he shouldn't have
it hurt
he hurt me
he kept putting a hand over my mouth
to muffle the whimpers that escaped
in protest to what he was doing
but he wanted it muffled
not because someone would help or anything
but because he would get teased for finally
getting a girl.

at some point i fell in love with a man
a man on the internet
yes i know
exactly how that sounds
but i swear
by now i know my feelings somewhat more

He did this for many nights
every night
for two weeks maybe
before i broke it off
he kept pushing my head
grabbing at my hair in tight handfuls
telling me
'**** it'
or 'get on top of me'
or something else
something else that would break me

and then i did break it off and
the boy i loved
his friend
came over and... worried some friends
hurt me
but left before he could...
well...

but at school he did it.
he pulled me out of classes,
went to bathrooms,
locker rooms,
his car out in the school lot...
and he was a lot less gentle than Him.

I started dropping weight,
started hoping He would be out soon.
I started eating even less.
i wanted to be pretty.
i wanted him to love me still
even though people online were telling me
that he was bad for me
that i should stop loving him
that he's evil

i would cry at
the mentions of ****
the entirety of the subject
because i would know
that was what was happening to me...
but still people didn't believe me.
i was a silly little girl,
with silly little stories

i kept trying to **** myself
to take away the pain
wash away all the filth
that had built up from Him and his friend
on my skin
which was bruised and scarred
not only from him
but also myself.

then
another friend of His
came and confessed his love
but rejection made him
pull out the gun
shoot me and miss by a bit
hitting me in the leg
then he shot himself
and died
and i still wish that he had been
a bit better of a shot than that.

i had surgeries
two
and yet people still tried to brush me off.
"what a silly little girl,
with those silly little stories."

suddenly
i confess to that man online
that i love him
and he cares
he's sweet
he's honest
he helps me
he wants to, anyway
i admire that
but he's so much more than that
he's a good man
he's creative
you can always trust him...
of course,
he's so far away
and i'm only a little girl i guess...
but already he means the world to me.
i would do anything for him.

and lately
this group
of older kids-
seniors-
they come over
steal the alcohol
and drink.
they get drunk and
one of them does the whole touching thing
keeping the cycle from stopping
scaring me
choking me out at times
smacking me
doing things to my body that i can only speak of in my head..
yet
after all this time
only a few believe me
because
i'm just a silly little girl
making up silly little stories..
seeking attention
in a cruel world
filled with disgusting people
who don't deserve to live.
and i'm one of them, i guess.
here's my uh... story.
We had a very happy conversation about family matters.

Mom, Dad. I’m OK.
They’ve been really honest with me
but they’re perfectly willing to die for what they’re doing.
And I want to get out of here
but the only way I’m going to
is if we do it their way.
And I just hope that you’ll do what they say
Dad
and just do it quickly.
I really am alright.
I just hope I can get back to everybody really soon.

My little girl.

Catherine and Randy gave impeccable dinner parties.

I am an Establishment person.

I am being held as a Prisoner of War
and not as anything else.
I mean I am being treated
in accordance with
international codes of war.
I’m not left alone, and I’m not just shoved off somewhere.
I mean, I am fine.

Also, since I am an example
and it’s really important
that everybody understand that
you know,
I am an example and a warning.

And so people should stop acting like I’m dead.

Mom should get out of her black dress,
that doesn’t help at all.
and just hurry.
Bye.

Patty honey I want you to know
that your father is doing everything in his power.
Millions of people all over the world are praying for you
I know it’s been a long time sweetheart
but keep up your courage
and you keep praying
pretty soon god will touch their hearts
and they’ll send you home.


Mom, Dad.
I've been hearing reports about the food program.
So far it sounds like you and your advisors
have managed to turn it into a real disaster.
Anyway, it certainly didn't sound like the kind of food
our family is used to eating.

I called him a couple of weeks ago and said,
Hey, Randy, let's play tennis.
We haven't played tennis in months
and he said
Gosh. I just can't. I'm busy.
I know he's got a lot on his mind,
But, I think he's pretty obsessed with this.


Mom, Dad.
Tell the poor and oppressed people of this nation
what the corporate state is about to do.
Warn Black and poor people
that they are about to be murdered
down to the last man, woman and child.
Tell the people,
Dad
that the removal of expendable excess,
the removal of unneeded people
has already started.

I have chosen to stay and fight.
I have been given the name Tania
after a comrade who fought alongside Che in Bolivia.
It is in the spirit of Tania that I say,
'Patria o Muerte, Venceremos.'

She was one of the prettiest young women south of the Mason‐Dixon line.

Q. Okay. As a matter of fact, when you got to 1827 Golden Gate, or this apartment on
Golden Gate, you were not being held in that closet all the time, were you?
A. Yes, I was.
Q. You were?
A. Yes.
Q. Was there a previous closet in which you were held?
A. Yes.

DEATH TO THE FASCIST INSECT THAT PREYS UPON THE LIFE OF THE PEOPLE

She is a winsome beauty and her sweetness of manner has endeared her to all who know her

Whatever happened to the real men in this world? Men like Clark Gable? No one would have carried off my daughter if there had been a real man there.

She was somewhat of a revolutionary savant.
We kidnapped a freak.
I think that she was spectacular.
At that point, it was against her will to go home.

Q. And you moved in a car, I take it?
A. Yes.
Q. Were you blindfolded?
A. Yes.
Q. And whose car was it, do you know?
A. I don’t know. I was put into a garbage can that was ******* and put in the trunk of the car.
Q. And then, was the garbage can taken into the apartment on Golden Gate when you arrived?
A. Yes.
Q. Were you in it?
A. Yes.
Q. And you were placed in a closet immediately, is that correct?
A. Yes.

I. She’s an amoral person
thought that the rules did not apply to her.
She lied to nuns at school
about her mother having cancer
in order to get out of an exam
engaged in ****** activity
at an early age
and experimented with drugs
such as LSD.

II. Velcro Theory defined the aimless, lost souls
such persons, he said, who float around
in an empty moral space
and then find stuck to them
the first random ideology they bump into.

III. She is a celebrity prisoner of war
but the other thing
is that listening to her voice
is kind of hypnotizing
and not at all unpleasant
she speaks in this whisper
the well-enunciated voice
that someone called
the rich girl’s voice
The eerie voice of an heiress
and it's hard not to admire her composure
considering the ordeal she just went through.

We didn't know whether we were looking at a live girl or a robot.

Greetings to the people.
This is Tania.
Gabi crouched low with her *** to the ground.
Perfect love and perfect hate reflected in stone cold eyes.
To shoot first and make sure the pig is dead before splitting.
I died in that fire on 54th Street,
but out of the ashes I was reborn.
I know what I have to do.

Catherine was mentally and physically exhausted after the kidnapping. No wonder she developed a drinking problem.

Q. Okay. And is it true, Miss Hearst,
that you in the presence of Thomas Mathews ejected a live round from the M-I
that you had near you
and inserted that in the clip,
and put the clip back in the weapon?
A. I don't recall, it is possible.
Q. It is possible you may have.
And did you, in fact, also at that time
load a couple of live rounds
into the chamber of a revolver, a pistol?
A. I don't recall.
Q. Did you give Bill Harris a pistol
in the presence a Tomas Mathews?
A. I don't recall.
Q. You don't recall?
A. No.

I’ll think of it all tomorrow—I can stand it then.

I think this has been extremely ******* her
She's what the kids call ‘spaced out.’
Her religion holds her together.
And when you talk to her,
you see reality escapes her.
All she can say is that people are
‘persecuting’ Patty.
That's the word she uses,
‘persecution.’
We all love Patty,
and God knows she's had a terrible time,
but the whole complexity of the situation
seems to escape Catherine.

You're being told this
so you'll understand why I was kidnapped.
The S.L.A. has declared
war against the Government
I'm telling you now why this happened
so that you'll know
so that you'll have
something to use,
the knowledge
to try to get me out of here.
Bye.

I’m the happiest mother in the whole world.

I hope that you'll make sure that they don't do anything else like that Oakland business.

Q. Do you recall you spoke those words, Miss Hearst?
A. Can I see the transcript?

I don't believe Patty's legal problems are that serious. After all, she's primarily a kidnap victim. She never went off and did anything of her own free will.

From the moment I was kidnapped,
they consistently attempted to
discredit the revolutionaries.
After the first communique was received,
the pigs reacted by hauling out the stress machines.
The machines indicated I was being tortured
and kept awake 24 hours a day.
I guess that all the pigs expected me
to keep my mouth shut,
but I was furious.
They put away their trickology for a while.
If you believe the media,
you'd think I was totally weird.
According to them, I never mean anything.

Catherine, while still blond and attractive, has aged around the corners of the eyes.

Greetings to the people,
this is Tania.
Our actions of April 15
forced the Corporate State
to help finance the revolution.
As for being brainwashed,
the idea is ridiculous beyond belief.
I am a soldier in the People's Army.

I am Tania and We are not fooling around.

What could have been a tremendous instrument for change—Patty's kidnapping—has failed, and their old attitudes toward life—I guess it's called ‘conservatism’—are back

The kids who went to public schools
were not the kind of people
we should have close associations with.
As a result, I spent twelve years
almost totally surrounded by young people
who were busily developing
ruling class aspirations.

She has nowhere to go,
as resulted in only a change of captors.
But at least now,
as long as society is her
captor,
she does not have to worry about being killed.
Freedom may be a more awesome
alternative
-- you are not here to decide that.
We have a framework,
the SLA predicted this trial.
If we can't break the chain
at some point in their predictions,
there are going to be other Patricia Hearsts,
the blueprint is plain,
it works

A year and a half after her kidnapping,
she's in the safe arms of the law.
So, what does she do?
Patty gives the revolutionary salute,
even when she's in handcuffs.
And when she's booked,
she's asked her occupation
and what does she say?
Urban guerilla.

Bailey, I just –
I don't know him,
you know,
like he just kind of drifts in
and you know,
says blah, blah, blah
and I just go,
oh,
okay.

It was never true that our objective was to reconvert her.

You can almost see how Patty couldn’t relate to her—you know, trying to be so self-righteous and so upright.

Well, I always knew
that the Lord was in my life,
kind of on my shoulder.
I started to stray off
I always knew His hand
was there to bring me back.
I got to the house,
put my bags down in the entry,
went right to the kitchen
and the first thought on my heart was
I need to hear Jesus.
I picked up that Bible
and started in Matthew 1:1.
For that whole five days
I read and cried
and read and cried.

In short order, she returned to being the Patty Hearst of Hillsborough, California, the heiress herself.

It's kind of fun because back then,
there's nothing else to do but paint your nails.
It's really exciting.
I have been crocheting now.
At least, my mother came in and she asked –
she had asked me,
about my hair,
you know,
like
can I change it back?
She asked if there was a beauty parlor.

Her eyes are,
for the most part,
downcast,
as if she were sharing a secret with
herself.

She’s such a devoted, old-fashioned Southern lady, that we just died watching her facade break. That hysteria wasn’t just grief that Patty was gone—it was guilt, you know, ‘What have I done wrong?’

I'm being treated in accordance
with the Geneva Convention
and one of the conditions being
that I am not being tried
for crimes which I'm not responsible for.
I'm here because
I'm a member of a ruling class family,
and I think you can begin to see the analogy.

She writes these dramatic
love letters to her boyfriend saying,
"I want to keep up the fight for the revolution."
And she wants to overthrow the government in America,
which she spells A-M-E-R-I-K-K-K-A.

Q. And you were reading a paper, were you not, when they were in the store?
A. Yes.
Q. And you looked up from that paper, did you not, and you saw that William Harris was being held on the ground by someone and being detained, isn’t that true?
A. Yes.
Q. And you picked up an automatic weapon and shot in the direction of Mel’s Sporting Goods Store?

OBJECTION

I have a really nice brown pantsuit.
Al got it.
He has really good taste.

Trish Tobin
is telling her
that she is about to head off to Switzerland
to go skiing for three weeks.
I mean,
so what you have
in this compressed circumstance
is the old life skiing in Switzerland
for three weeks,
and Patty is saying,
I've got a life now.
I've got a new life.

The Hearsts are really ramping up for this one.
He is a bright guy,
but in terms of just his manner and his dress,
you couldn't help but be struck by
how square he was.

Q: I've become conscious and can never go back to the life we had before." Do you recall saying those words?
A: I don’t recall seeing a transcript of that tape.

I have chosen to stay and fight.

She is still an uncommonly handsome woman, prettier in fact than any of her daughters.

It’s a miracle she survived at all.
The ordeal nearly killed me,
Mrs. Hearst once admitted and,
asked what sustained her,
she answers instantly: My religion.
Yet her victory over despair
sometimes seems more apparent than real.
After her divorce, she moved to Beverly Hills,
where she supported Catholic causes
and joined the Beverly Hills Garden Club.

I just want to tell you like, my politics are real different from way back when.
Obviously, right.

Q. Is it not true that you ejected
from your automatic weapon
a live round and placed into it
an additional clip?
A. I did not have an automatic weapon.
Q. You did not?
A. No.
Q. What type of weapon did you have?
A. It was an M-I carbine.

She’s a victim of thought control by terrorists. And all I can do is hope and pray that God will bring her home again.

She was de-programmed and de-radicalized,
returned to the persona
more similar to what she was
She was essentially brainwashed
by her side team and her lawyers.
By the time she walked into the courtroom,
nail polish,
nice pair of shoes,
very well dressed,
it was impressive.

I'm terribly happy. More happy than predacious.
Do you have any notion what you'll say to her when you see her?
I'll tell her I love her.
Are there questions that you want to ask her?
No questions in my mind.


I want to see my parents, and my sisters... I'm really happy to be going home.
Jamie L Cantore May 2018
This book represents the majority of my Poetry since childhood. I hope you enjoy it.
Bryden Jan 2018
Where are the children today?
They were playing in the fields just yesterday.
‘Where are they now?’ you say,
it seems they have gone somewhere else to play.

A deafening silence fills the air,
the soundtrack to a parent’s nightmare.
Maybe this is just a dream,
you didn’t even hear them scream.

The wind wails, pushing the swing,
maybe it’s trying to tell you something.
No little ones can be seen today
as the sky turns grey from the smell of decay.

Could it be everything you ever feared?
Perhaps they have just disappeared.
Maybe they’ll return for a story before bed
or maybe their clothes are stained with red.

The sun is rising but the birds don’t sing,
the absence of children is a peculiar thing.
So, where are the children today?
Maybe they have gone somewhere else to stay.
CautiousRain Apr 2016
He'd always leave at 2:53 P.M.
Swoosh fwoump.

It was only a matter of time,
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-ti

I wanted to be free.

He'd strap me to a chair and whisper,
sweet stories that you'd coo to *a child,

with sour breath running down my neck,
his greasy forehead pressed against my tear-stricken cheeks;
it'd deteriorate and culture in my ears.

His scent engulfed my mind,
my body, my soul...


He made a grave mistake,
dressing me in grimy socks,
making me dance skin-to-skin,
forcing me to kiss him, call him.

Oh no, you see,
he should have known.


I betrayed his trust, I'd pay the price,
"Isn't that right, Leila?"

That's not my name.

"Now Leila, darling, you're going to be a good girl,
for Daddy, aren't you?"

That's not my name.

"Leila, sweetheart, I can trust you, can't I?
Hmm? This will be our little secret,"

That's not my name.

"Aw, don't tell me, dear, beautiful Leila,
you aren't scared, are you?"

That's not my name.

I knew him well,
after a few months,
and his smell was musty,
only when I let it be.

He always liked sweets,
like me.


He was disgusting,
and my wrists ran red with incisions;
he'd lick them clean.

He'd always leave at 2:53.

"Oh Leila, sweetheart, I expect dinner when I get back,
won't you be a good girl,
and do as Daddy taught you?"

That's not my name.

So I did.

This kitchen was charming,
as much as his worn dining ware,
lined with cracked roses painted by Chinese overseas,
wondering when they would be used.

This was the first time I'd seen him genuinely smile,
"You look especially beautiful, tonight, Leila,
perhaps it's the sparkle in your eye,"

That's not my name.

He took a sip.

His glossy eyes hovered above his glass,
and his gaze drifted over to me,
in my grimy socks and brown-stained apron,
my long, dark hair drapped over my shoulders.

Another glass,
another glass,
another glass,
glass,
sugary sweet,
sweet,
down his lips,
lips,
lips,
teeth,
throat,
liver.

He liked sweets,
sweets,
sweets,
dripping, sipping,
sweet,
sugary sweet, nectar,
cool, smooth,
antifreeze.

He'd always leave at 2:53.


Silence.
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-ti-


2:53 P.M.

Silence at 2:00-
2:00
2:00


I'd heard him cry,
"Leila, Leila, Leila,"

That's not my name.

He'd always leave at 2:53,
2:00,
silence.
He would never leave at 2:53,
2:53 P.M.


*I left at 2:53. Silence.
Prompt was ******, and I had just watched a video on how to escape a kidnapping, so yeah....
FUN FACT: Read all the bold as its own poem. Do the same for the italics. See how that makes you think.
Reading: http://vocaroo.com/i/s0uKqNL4QQDM
Kelly Weaver Apr 2016
My scream to you is only a whisper
Why bother when all you do is hit her
Your mama says you’re in trouble, mister
That’s no way to treat a lady!

Baby, what’s the duct tape for?
What of this rope you bought at the store?
That better not be what I think it’s for
That’s no way to treat a lady!

I’m not in the mood for a hit
Not to be battered or bit
Baby, you’re so full of ****
That’s no way to treat a lady!

An accident? She’s dead!
And your palms are stained crimson red
And I can see her body under your bed!
That’s no way to treat a lady.

Flowers planted after dark
Just as you wished, you left your mark
Doesn’t matter how loud I bark
That’s just how you treat your lady.

There she lies, under the ground
Unable to be seen, not to be found
The gardener won’t even make a sound
She knows that’s how you treat your lady.

Dig up the roots, there she lies
Bones broken at the ties
Skull crushed, her demise
We’ve found your lady!

Flowers growing from her bones
Dug out by mindless drones
Results of your uncontrolled hormones
We’ve found your lady.
Next page