I put my hands in my pockets,
                                   protecting
Whatever can be found inside

I found it!
It was a child in a small red house,  and then an apartment, and then in a lamp...

3, 2, 1,
I Am the Genie.
You wished for my health,
You wished for me to stay,
And the last wish
             You gave it to me!
But I am not your genie...
I belong to the child,
To the past, to the future... But most importantly,
To the wonderland.

Take your hands out of your pockets!

I hadn’t any dreams
In my hands
You sometimes hold
My wishes
Fell through
Holes in my pockets

I was very much empty and I
Wanted you to know

By Arcassin Burnham


The She-angel that could make me sing out
My feelings to submission breaking
Down the walls where my heart resides,
Painting pictures in my pineal allowing
Me to give in with no sure measure of
Deceit,
She-angel listens to my words and even now it still it amazes my soul,
Jumping for joy and not in fear of being
Left behind,
Her accent gives me chills in the most
beautiful axis,
The world was never ready for you my angel,
I will walk to the ends of the earth with nothing to live for with a pockets of hopes that faded away in the fire where my trust got extinguished,
But with you my angel everything revived itself, I Thank you for that.

Don't sit there and laugh
I promise it's real
I'm nowhere near daft
But I have an appeal

Women have united
We held a caucus
It has been decided
We want deeper pockets

Not stitches of yarn
To create the illusion
Not fingertips only
Whole hand exclusion

Not pockets so small
They cause a contusion
Not 1/4 of whole
Causing wallet protrusion

I should not be coerced
To carry a purse
It's like we're accursed
pocket problems traverse

You get it right on dresses
But never on pants
I need to stress this
Dress to pant transplant!

You do it for males
All big and cozy
Put some wind in your sails
This is no time to mosey

Pocket Equality for all!
Across every brand
Divided we fall
United we stand!

She moved her hand from her pocket to his

I would greatly enjoy
Drinking a full bottle
Of blue sky, with
Cloud cubes.

And as a youngest
Quasi-only child
I have no basis
Upon which to babysit.

I keep a pocket-sized
Terrace with me
At all times
Purely for the flowers.

And it would be a
Jolly thing to have
An eight-year old
Dream come true.

On rare occasions
I wear dresses
And walk sedately
Through fields.

And once in awhile
The bird on my leg
Is a massive swallowtail
And tries to fly a feathery airplane.

When I was a kid
I spent time alone
Probably more than my fair share
But it wasn't bad at first
It was liberating.
At first, I discovered myself
I discovered the universes that existed
At the pinpoint of my imagination
A true world of wonders

I remember tiny snippets of freedom
Long walks in the park with my hands tucked into my pockets,
Or my hair getting soaked from the rain when I'd walk home

Back then "on my own" was somehing I fancied
Like a childish crush
Where I only wanted it because,
Hell.
It made me feel good
It made my heart pound
When I could spend just a second listening to my breath

But now. I've learned the consequences
The damage I've done to myself
From spending that much time
Alone.