Peter Pan


We are not all Peter Pan;
We must grow up one day.
We must do all we can, while we can,
Before it all goes away.


TV has more than the Disney channel;
There is so much out there to find.
One day you will not be able to afford Chanel,
So be rich and poor at the same time;
Make the most of your life.


Our guardians protect us and raise us.
Hold their words close to your chest,
But one day you must leave the nest
And walk alone; relax and take a deep breath.
In fact you must go, because it is good for the soul.
You learn to fly high into the sky,
Before they plant you in the ground.
Technology does not save us all,
So cry aloud your nature call.


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
I was a "D" Student
In Dr. Hoffman's Computer Science Class
At George Washington School.
I was not really a Futurist
As a Youth.
I didn't care for Star Wars,
Though I did appreciate
Close Encounters of the Third Kind,
Which I saw with my mother
At the Cooper Theater in Denver,
That  no longer exists.
So,
Though I am much more technically challenged
Than the typical youth of today,
I notice that I tend to have
A more pliable mindset
Than they do.
Actually,
Many of the youth of today
Have very RIGID mindsets,
Much  like that  of my Uncle Shea.....
My mother's eldest brother
Who became  an Ultra-Orthodox Jew,
And,
At times,
Drifted towards
Militant Jewish Extremism.
Ellison Apr 15
I've shrugged myself away since three years ago
Always wanting to change away from too much innocence
Wanting to know more about what others did
But now I've learned too much.

I want to be able to go back and cry on the sleeve of myself
And tell him to stay young forever
Tell him to not worry about the future and life
And how big your genitals are.

Tell him never to smoke or drink to death
Tell him to never yell at your angel mother
Or take for granted what keeps you warm at night
And love your friends with a peaceful mind.

Farewell, another part of the child
That once never needed an herb to have fun
He crumbles like the ash on a dusty page
Burned by the lighter of irrational maturity.
Karisa Brown Apr 8
"There's a Maturity
in the cleverness
of calmness."
The young man
Fails to see any value
In What he can't possess.
The old man realizes
That possessions require
MANAGEMENT.
Even an online collection
Can become little more
Than Virtual Junk
Without Discriminatory Tastes.
I remember this moment as if it were just years ago.
Felt this feeling before, guess my lifes been put on hold.
I sensed the fear in my heart.
Been too scared to rip apart.
The negativity attached to me. (Its all I know)
Its been exactly three 3 years since I've walked this path.
And now I realize there's no turning back...no turning back.
Just know that I realize
I know whats on the line.
I just gotta remember to remind myself

You just want to be dependable.
No you don't want to be dispensable.
You're much older now.
You're much wiser now.

There are certain things that I've come to understand.
The expectations I had for myself didn't go as planned.
I tried to mask all the pain.
Of my failure of a life.
Just to see that that ain't right.
But in moments like this, i ask myself.
Is this really the road you wanna go? Hell no.
But just know, that I realize now.
I know whats on the line.
I just gotta remember to remind myself.

You just want to be dependable.
No you don't want to be dispensable.
You're much older now.
You're much wiser now.
You don't want to be emotional.
No you don't want to be disposable.
You're so much older now.
You're so much wiser now.
Sorry I have been gone for so long! I hope you all enjoy this piece. I recently lost a poetry contest and it hurt my confidence and self esteem....I just hope I still am as talented.
All this filth, all this murk
it's all coming from me - no one else to blame,
I believed in the woods once, could see the light
through the trees, but now it is all murk in the mottled forest;

The act is an act, the mask to hide
from the world, my hollow shell, a cocoon;
this convenient hideaway, measured tone, repressed
thought, whirlwinds of desire.

So you just run onward through the bones in the yard,
saying hi to the pristine porceline girls of porno
on the way, spinning and grinning
with jawed grimace, their faces sown
in poetic indifference,
and you want to remember

That, once you were something
pure.

till you were about ten years old -
sighing, carry on, knowing that your scars
are your best friends, mutter with them,
freeze the pain, don't drown it out, Believe,
because the greatest lie is that  man is pure,
and life is not that long that you can ignore those smiles
that are ok with that, and laugh about it along with you, in words , stories, and poetry.
love
aghast
at its own
separation


curds from
whey
drifting
up into
unshapely
neglected
kernels


drifting up to
a wide distance
in their broth
of once-
togetherness


weeping
energy
like a
milky
wound


expectations
of gushing
romance
seep out
and down


sunk to the
bottom


to never
feel
alone


to never
feel
lost


to never
feel
grown
or
responsible
for it all


sunk right down
to the
bottom


buoyancy
independent
rising up


I take care
of my
self


alone
purposeless
drifter
bulbous
love nugget




© 2017 Adelaide Heathfield
Real life love is not like fairy tale love. It does not absolve a person of their responsibilities, their cares, their troubles. It doesn't make it so that nothing bad ever happens. And it isn't often romantic.

Giddy-eyed passion inseparable is replaced by an ever-deepening friendship of two independent people. Love solves no problems. It only makes life richer and more complicated.
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