Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
E H Edwards Aug 24
I am from a book,
From LeapPads and iPhones.
I am from the green high house
It felt alive.
I am from the grass,
The sunflower,
Looming, yellow.
I'm from the big dinners and bigger hearts,
From ****** and Brock,
And Sally and Bill.
I'm from teachers and artists,
From smelling pines and eating peas.
I'm from Catholics of England and Italy,
From soup and Shepard's pie.
I'm from Nana's lap,
The words of my mother
Next to the lake.
I am from my family
M-E Apr 25
My mission was to            ignore
hijack a tank
follow and fire
the targets:
5 Cheetah drivers, Taxicabs
all FBI Ranchers and helicopters
get busy and
                                ignore her calls
play GTA and score
its cold outside
hell freezing cold
and the garbage bag
is an inch away
from the big bang.

Bombing cabs, trash trucks
trash cans and everything        ignore
no burglers running away from cops
no rich playing in a vast golf course
no prostitutes or homeless men
wandering in the streets
and no trash to take out
in the hell freezing cold
I was busted by the army
angry I was so I left the game
and switched to Tv on a news channel
in awe of the atrocities
I yelled, unwittingly:

Honey, I think there is
something wrong
with the world

No sweetheart
Its just the people
NOW, take out the
SMS Mar 13
Purple and blue the sharpener
Was absolutely stunning.
Two holes, one for pencils and the other
For desperate child fingers.
At seven I didn’t know the consequences
of shoving my finger against that blade.
How could I have known that one
Sharp deep cut on my finger would
Entrap me in a world of self pain.
That, that day would continue over and
Over again for the next ten years.
A constant cycle of seeking solace from
Different types of metals.
On a quest for worth, in depthness of,
Not ones soul, but of superficial lines.
A mastered game of hide-and-carve
Deceitfully covering a plea for help.
Jonesy Feb 22
No I'm not appointing blame,
My origins will never change,
But what was there for an eight year old to do.
I never felt wanted again after I was born,
There was a huge void in my spirit
My dad married and it seemed like he forgot about me,
I felt like I was scorn.
I was never helped with homework;
I became a novice
Never understood Maths, English or any prerequisites.

A mistake.
Yeah I get it.
But at least don't treat me like it.... Please.
My teacher (God rest her soul) took me under her wing,
Helped me with maths,religious education and English.
I slowly understood what I was missing:
Love, joy, sympathy and a family.
This quickly ended when she died though,
And that void came back.

I never saw my dad.
I might have slowly forgotten his features.
But that didn't bother me I was only ten by then,
And I was coming into myself:
I suffered depression and insecurities.
Many a day I would bury my head in a book
Not because I wanted to,
But because I wanted to make myself scarce so I could escape the hardships of my dysfunctional family.

Maybe reading was a good thing,
I reassured myself as I read through the encyclopedias in my small library;
Deciding that I'll read my problems away.
Mom was never around,
And daddy had a new family.
I'll just read the problems away.

I felt unwanted.
Mummy started going out every night,
At this time I had a five year old sister;
Of course mom hardly spent time with her.
I babysat her while missing homework assignments I never got helped with.
Because mummy went out every night.
Sometimes she came home
Sometimes she didnt
A fire kindled in my spirit made of anger
How could a mother do this to her young daughters.

Jonesy 2019 ©
As promised part 2 to my origins
Jonesy Feb 12
Growing up as a child and a young teen was not the best,
The memories up to this day traumatize me:
I always remember the bad ones and never the rest.
Now don't take this as a sob story I don't take well to pity,
Just give me a few minutes to dwell
On a childhood that was anything but well.

It was the 29th day of March,
A long and eerie night
A miscarriage was near in sight
The doctor told her:
Its very possible that you will lose your baby
After hours of pain and blood loss
Came a bundle of joy with "cat eyes" that brought light to all a young mother's flaws.
It was a miracle.
"Its a baby girl, woah look at those eyes they are almost bioluminescent in the dark"
Parents could never be so proud to bring such a beautiful creature to the world.
"I wish all the best, to this little girl"

Life was great
But I wasn't truly welcomed
Some people my existence upset.
But as a baby and toddler, it was great all I had to do was breastfeed, cry and ****.
Then time happened and life became complicated.
My mom cheated (or was continuously cheating) and there was no preset
My dad wished there was a reset
And me... I was treated like an asset;
For money.
For **** sake my young years have been duped.

Jonesy 2019 ©
I want to start a new collection about realism in association with well origins. This will be the first poem of the collection; this collection entails basically my uncensored life story (and if u guys want to share your own life story too please do not be shy,  no judging) I hope you enjoy and look out for my next poem "Memorandum" coming soon.
Justyn Huang Jan 13
If happiness were a simple thing
As they'd say,
"Catch a little birdie before
It flew away"

I'd be living in the trees to catch them

Too long above the world below
The dirt, the mirth and roots that grow

Forgotten then for how we came to
kiss: the sun, the sky, the clouds to know.
Talis Ren Dec 2018
I am from the broken, pretty things,
the glue in the cracks
and the paint-over coat.
I am from the fixer-uppers
and the “she’s not quite right”s.
(Oh honey, puh-leeze
I know I’m a Nobody,
but Nobody’s perfect,
so let’s leave it at that.)

I am from hot and spicy foods,
that too-much-pepper burn.
I am from butter and cream,
whole milk, never skim,
from hard-to-pronounce chemicals
on the back of cardboard boxes.
(We’re all dying anyway,
so hand over the bacon.)

I am from poorly timed jokes,
bad puns and sarcasm.
I am from too many EXCLAMATION MARKS!!!
and question marks????
From Bold and Italics and Underline text,
and weird fonts
for the book manuscript.

I am from warm purple bruises
underneath my shin guards,
shadow-boxing in mirrors,
sore knuckles and tired bones.
I am from the ****** lip
after a lucky punch,
the laughing dares,
and the pat on the back
trailing after.

I am not from sugar and spice,
or anything nice.
I am from cacti and spiny roots,
from hot sand and spite.
The snap before the spark
and the ash after the light.
I learned to breathe easy,
by knowing how to survive.
Arcassin B Oct 2018
By Arcassin Burnham

Soul Demented , loyal replenish,
In a sea of sharks,
Dogs and cats and bats will get in the way of my heart,
And that is to see all that has been made crash and burn,
I am destined for this purpose, calling to my worth,

Do you wanna see the world burn like I do?
Make families perish into ash like I do?
Put smiles on everyone's face like I do?
Or get revenge on the man who abandons you,
Smiles , smiles , smiles makes the planet die off.
Smiles , smiles , smiles makes the planet die off.

Jason , Jason , don't you think the old man would have noticed
that his second bird is about to his get his wings cut off?
Jason , Jason , your mom went to great lengths just to get you
to me , just let the trust thing rub off,
Like the bones off your flesh when I wail on you with this crowbar
making a ****** mess on the floor, the one that I just mopped,
He'll never find his bird locked in cage , my old distant frienemy,
I wish I could do this to all my enemies.
-gabi p- Oct 2018
i'm from a small, yellow bedroom
yellow flowers, yellow layette
and yellow jaundiced skin  
i'm from the taste of the tea mother makes me when i'm sick
and from the sound of her singing
about how she looked and looked for the light
like the roots and the leaves floating in the boiling water
her voice a soothing sound
like bubbles in simmering tea

i'm from words written on a page-
the feeling of an old book and the smell of a new one
and i'm from hiding beneath the covers
falling in love with black letters printed on white paper
i'm from lots of illustrations and then none at all
when my mind became colorful enough to fill all the pages
i'm from "the game is afoot"
and "after all this time?"

i'm from all over the world
pieces of my heart, a jigsaw puzzle
like my family scattered all over the globe
i'm from canada, from the US, from france from lebanon from italy
i'm from a country nobody wants
but a country that desperately wants us back

i'm from messy hair, oversized sweaters
half-finished sketchbooks filled with promises
and ******* poetry lines
i'm from the echo of my own voice
against the splatter of the shower
i'm from reading in the flashes of street lamp lights
i'm from pursuing science and desiring art
drawing on the airplane's foggy windows
and wondering how it flies
with a clear head and with clouded eyes.
Bethan Roberts Aug 2018
Bright from the wine-dark womb the world
Is light itself, and the fingers of the newest covenant
Flower like petals.
She comes forth like a promise
Between legs that bore her;
Her cord has not yet been cut into the kiss of Cain,
And the secrets of her origin cling tight
To her flesh. Her chest heaves
Its first breath out of the blurry brightness,
******* in spirit from the dead air.
She holds for a surprised second,
Then throws back her rose-crowned head
And cries.
Next page